Archive for January, 2009

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Beat Me in St. Louis?

January 28, 2009

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My Master and i are registered. Looking forward to meeting Thursday’s Child and D there! Is anyone else planning to go and want to meet up?

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Smiling in Red

January 24, 2009

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Bedpost

January 22, 2009

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Exposed

January 19, 2009

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“Follow me,” my Master said. i got up from my position seated on His lap in the social lounge area of the BDSM club we were visiting. i followed him into one of the play rooms. He pointed to the wall. “Stand over there.”

i followed his instructions, leaning up against the wall, not sure at all what He had in mind.

“Time to say bye-bye,” He said, and pulled a blindfold over my eyes. Then He opened the buttons on my sheer blouse to reveal my breasts completely, pulled my skirt up in the front and had me hold it there, and pulled my panties halfway down my thighs.

And then He left me there.

It was a very cold night, and early, so the club was pretty quiet. But He’d positioned me directly across from the shelf unit where people store their toy bags, so every few minutes i’d hear the creak creak creak of someone walking past. But i had no idea if they were looking at me or not. My Master and i had been playing around a bit in the social area, with him revealing me and playing with my cunt, and we’d been surprised at how unwilling people were to look. So i wondered if this was the same, and i was just standing there exposed but unnoticed.

Every so often my Master would come over to check in on me. In the beginning, i thought i could tell when He was near, but then He managed to get much sneakier and would just appear out of nowhere. After i’d been standing for maybe 10 minutes, He had me start playing with my clit and nipples while i posed.

Through it all i was definitely getting aroused, but also embarrassed. i kept breaking out into a big grin to fight the embarassed giggles that wanted to come.

By the time someone actually came along who was willing to engage in the scene, i was very nervous. She complimented me on how nice i looked, exposed like that, and i got out a “thank you” and turned bright red. As she went on commenting about “how i looked like i wanted to pull my skirt down, but my nipples were telling another story,” i was totally trying to turn around to face the wall, i was so embarrassed.

Once one person engaged, that broke the ice for others, and at least a couple of male voices joined in the teasing. This lasted for a few minutes, in a couple of rounds. My Master let me stay there for a little bit after that, then came and took my blindfold off and let me throw my arms around Him and shower Him with kisses.

We talk a lot about putting me on display, and it was even more intense in reality than it had been in fantasy. (And this was without a “touch me” sign on the table beside me or around my neck, which is one of the things we’ve talked about.)  i definitely have an exhibitionistic streak, so i was surprised at how nervous it made me.

One of the things that made it work so well is that i had no idea it was coming. For all i talk about being a planner and overthinking, the fact that i just had to take this as it came was incredibly powerful. i told my Master that, and got back “You think i don’t know what you need?” He knows me so well.

Before we left the club He introduced me to the woman who had started the fun, and one other guy came up to me at one point while i was still standing against the wall, but without my blindfold, and commented that i could see them now, so i knew he had played. But i don’t know if there were others, or how many of them. For the rest of the night, whenever someone would give me a friendly nod, i’d have to wonder if they’d seen me standing there playing with myself like the little slut i am.

Great fun. Master told me later that someone had come up to Him while i was standing there and asked “Training exercise?” We’re not much on protocol, so my Master responded “No, she just likes it.”

And He’s right. As usual.

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Trust and Let Go

January 18, 2009

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My Master always gives me very specific instructions about what to wear when i see Him. Packing instructions too. Usually these come the night before a visit, and the uncertainty drives me crazy!

This week He told me a few days earlier what i was to wear when i saw Him. Then followed it up with the comment “I don’t know why I felt so nice just then; generally I prefer you to be in the dark longer, because it keeps you more off balance.”

i greatly protested, trying to convince Him that keeping me off-balance wasn’t really in His best interest. i’m a planner – i like to rehearse scenarios in my head and think about what i’m going to do. When He takes that opportunity away from me, i feel very unsettled. On the edge. Grumpy. Which means i’m not at my best when i see Him for the first time. i feel very vulnerable and emotionally fragile.

And, of course, that vulnerability is exactly what’s looking for. He’s more interested in feeling my submission than in me performing to some desired standard. He strips away my control when He takes away my ability to plan, and He likes it that way. Because ideally, after the emotional fragility comes the realization that He will take care of me, and that i can trust Him completely and totally. Rather than angsting because i don’t have control, because i haven’t been able to plan my actions and emotions in advance, i need to trust and let go, knowing that He will keep me safe, no matter what happens.

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Ten things

January 15, 2009

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My Master and i are seeing each other this weekend. He asked me for a list of 10 things i was looking forward to. i immediately fell into overthinking mode, and started worrying about making the list contain consistent kinds of items, and thinking about what order i should put them in. As soon as i realized i was doing that, i (virtually) slapped my own hand, and just started writing down the first ten things i thought of. Submission, for me, is really about doing and NOT thinking.

1. A nice dinner out
2. Being on display at the club
3. Kissing
4. Your cock in my cunt
5. Taking whatever punishment You want to give this time
6. Practicing being more submissive more consistently during our time
together instead of dropping in and out
7. You dressing me up and taking me to the bar
8. Girl-watching with You
9. Waking up next to You
10. Your cock in my mouth

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Sealing the Deal

January 14, 2009

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The company I work for isn’t a sleazy as you’d think a place that employed an office slut would be.  They’re really a very professional firm, and are well known and respected in the field because of the quality of their work and the excellent service they give.  My work is almost entirely internal – keeping the boys happy and on their toes, and amusing the CEO, for the most part. But there are a few customers who get a little “extra” in the way of excellent service.

I look forward to the times that i’m called in to help “seal a deal.” The sweet humiliation of being the naked slut serving a room of men in suits was a big part of why I took this job, after all. Nothing gets me as wet, or as eager to please.

So I was thrilled when, kneeling in his office awaiting my day’s instruction, the boss informed me that there would be an important client meeting today. One where I was to be on my best behavior, and demonstrate fully to the client what kind of service they could expect from our firm.

My mind was full of fantasies about erect cocks slipping out of Armani suits as I got the conference room ready.  Peterson walked past as I stood at the copier readying copies of our service quotes for the meeting, only to stop and quickly come back to investigate the smell of sex and desire coming from my cunt. “Excited about the meeting today, Lyn?” he asked, smirking as he ran his hand between my legs and smeared dripping cunt juice across my eager and erect nipples.

When meeting time came around, I knelt in my usual place, just to one side of the door where guests entered the conference room. Legs spread, breasts thrust out, eyes on the floor – waiting patiently to see how and if I’d be used. Sometimes I wasn’t. Sometimes just the presence of the office slut was enough. Sometimes they’d just ask me to serve coffee, the lackeys and underlings ogling my nakedness, erect cocks straining against tight slacks as I bent over them to refill a cup. Sometimes there’d be more.

I kept my eyes trained to the floor as they filed in.  Listened as the boss talked to someone – their CEO, I guessed from the tone of his voice – about the company, about who’d be attending the meeting today. He stopped directly in front of me.

“And this is Lyn.”

A hand reached down and grabbed my chin firmly, pulling it up to get a look at my face. A hand with long, red-lacquered nails. A hand attached to a body wearing a pair of red-bottomed Louboutin pumps and an Yves St Laurent suit. A body attached the face of the most gorgeous woman I could remembering laying eyes on.

Suddenly this meeting got even more interesting.

“Ah yes, I’ve heard about Lyn,” she said, and pulled me to standing, still holding on to my chin. She looked at me, and my eyes dropped to the floor, my usual smart-ass nature replaced with meek compliance as I saw in her eyes that she was not someone to be trifled with.  Her hands cupped and lifted each breast in turn, and spread my ass cheeks and inspected me there. Then one finger slid between my legs, gathering my cunt juices, making me shudder as she ran a fingernail across my clit. “I think she’ll do,” she said, as she sniffed my cunt juices on her finger, then slid the same finger into my mouth for me to clean off.

As the meeting began, I found myself in service as her footstool. I worked hard to maintain my position as the pressure from her legs weighed down on my back. Stifled my outburst when she bent her leg and rested the pointy heel of her stiletto against my ass. The meeting went on around me, and I scarcely paid attention, too busy wondering where this was going to end up, too busy imagining what she might do to me next.

The next thing I knew, everyone was standing up. Hands were shaken, backs were clapped, and exclamations of the beginnings of a “wonderful partnership” were made. Clearly, we had sealed the deal.

Or perhaps not yet.

“There’s just one thing. I do need to make sure of the slut. I think she’ll be perfect for some projects I have in mind, and her reputation does precede her, but I would like to be sure.”

“By all means,” the boss said. “Do as you like with her. I’ll have Peterson wait outside – he can bring you by my office to finalize things before you leave. I have no doubt that you’ll find Lyn to your liking. We certainly do.”

As the boss and our team filed out, I realized that there were others in the room. I’d been so enraptured by this woman, that I hadn’t even noticed the rest of her entourage. Four men in suits – just what I’d been hoping for – but completely overshadowed by her.

“I hear you like gangbangs, Lyn. Is that true?”

I nodded, not sure if I should speak, not sure how to address her.

“Good. Because my boys do too.”

The first of them put me up on the conference table, spread my legs, and dropping his pants just enough to get his cock out, shoved himself into my cunt.

“Eyes on me, Lyn,” she said, as he fucked me. I struggled to keep my eyes on her as she stared into mine, as one by one the men fucked me, came in me, and pulled out for the next. Apparently she only employs particularly virile men, as by the time the fourth was done, the first was ready to go again. I watched her all the while, my body responding to the men fucking it, but my mind firmly focused on pleasing only her.

After the second round, she dismissed the men. Now it was just the two of us in the conference room.

“On the floor, slut,” she commanded, and I pulled myself off the table to kneel at her feet, embarassed by the trail of come dripping out of my cunt.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, poking the pointy toe of her shoe into my raw and abused cunt, and beginning to fuck me with it.

“Pleased to be of service, ma’am,” i responded, as my body responded to the rhythm of her foot, my stretched-out, come-filled, and used cunt accommodating more of her shoe than i would have thought possible.

“How many times did you come, Lyn, when they were fucking you?”

“None, ma’am,” I gasped, my breath coming faster now.

“Good girl. I was hoping you were waiting for me. Can you come for me now, Lyn? Can you show me that you are an obedient slut?”

My breath came faster, my cunt began to clench, my eyes rolled back in my head a little.

Crack! Her hand slapped my cheek hard. “Come for me now, slut!” she commanded, and I exploded all over her shoe in my cunt, gushing onto the floor beneath us.

“Good girl,” she said, removing her shoe from my cunt. “Now, clean up this mess you made.”

I carefully licked her shoe, cleaning off the mixture of my cunt juices and the men’s come from every inch of her shoe, making sure I got it right the first time, afraid of what she’d do if I missed a spot. Only pulling back when I was sure I’d gotten it all.

Apparently I’d done a good enough job, because she got up and walked out without another word to me. But I could hear her in the hallway as Peterson walked her out to the boss’ office.

“Oh yes, she’ll do,” she said. “She’ll do just fine.”

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A hard one

January 13, 2009

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i knew it was going to be a hard one while i was packing my suitcase. The packing list He’d given me had all of His favorite toys – the riding crop, evil stick, wartenberg wheel, clothespins – and none of mine – the nice thuddy and whippy stingy floggers.

Our room had a bench at the end of the king size bed, which made for a perfect spanking setup. i could kneel on the bench with my upper body on the bed, and my ass was at a very comfortable height for Him to work on.

i was thankful that He started off with a nice thorough spanking, so i was well warmed up before He started in with the crop and later the evil stick. Although by then my mind was not in a place to distinguish one sharp stingy pain from another, and i thought he was still using the crop when i was murmering “please no, please no, please no more,” only later remember that i’d brought the evil stick and that must have been what He’d been using.

Unlike our previous visit, at least this time i didn’t have to support myself – i could melt into the bed and cry out into the soft comforter, unable to just roll away and force a break when things got rough. Forced to give the submission i need to give.

Sometimes s/m scenes feel like a gift that He gives me. And sometimes they feel like something that’s taken from me. This was one of the latter times. Even though He let me play with my clit as He clipped clothespins to my inner thighs, my sore red bottom and my labia lips. As He bit my skin, already tender from the beating. As He fucked me deep with my dildo.

It doesn’t look so bad in the picture. Until you realize that those dark spots aren’t moles and freckles like the ones that adorn the rest of my skin, they’re blood blisters raised over the course of a half an hour of being my Master’s plaything.

All i could think to say when He was done was “So much for You not being a sadist.” We have both changed a lot since we began this journey together, and it makes me really happy to know that He is willing to take what He needs from me, even – maybe especially – when it’s hard for me.

Today He wrote to me: “I love you when you’re taking that for me.  I really do.  I can’t explain it, but I do.” And that made me really happy to read. Because i want to give Him everything He needs.

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Hi, my name is lyn, and i’m an overthinker.

January 9, 2009

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My Master regularly accuses me (and correctly so) of overthinking. The other night we had a miscommunication about my trying on some clothes we’d ordered and sending Him pictures, and i overthought myself into NOT trying them on because He wasn’t online, despite Him telling me that i should. When He came back on, after spending on hour looking forward to seeing the pictures, i was already in bed, and He was one very disappointed Master.

More frequently, it comes in the context of  Him telling me to just “be/act submissive,” and me getting all caught up in worrying that i don’t know how. What i’m worried abou really, is doing it *wrong*. i have a little bit of an obsession with doing things right, and right the first time. i don’t like learning curves, and the fact that i struggle sometimes with my submission frustrates me.

Which is, of course, the completely wrong way to think about it, because submission is a journey, not a destination. And, the first lesson He taught me (and continues to try to teach me, slow learner that i am, at least on this topic) is that submission is about letting go.  And overthinking is pretty much the antithesis of submitting.

Coming out of this most recent overthinking debacle, my Master instructed me to write him something about overthinking. “It doesn’t have to be long,” he said. “It can be  stream of consciousness. But it has to be before you go to bed tonight.”

i got two sentences written before i started overthinking about overthinking, so i stopped there and sent it on to Him. As short and sweet as it is, i think it’s a pretty good mantra for those times where i find myself struggling to figure out what to do.

Sometimes i try to hard to figure out what exactly You want from me, and that keeps me from doing anything. Where it would be better for me to just do it, and accept correction or adjustment from You if i was mistaken or didn’t get it quite right.

Let go. Let go of outcomes. Do my best, with submission and pleasing my Master as my goal, and accept that sometimes i will do it wrong. And that that’s okay.

Thank You, Sir.

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Favorite blogs?

January 7, 2009

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Here in long-distance sub world, the new year came with some new rules. Or rather, a change to an old one.

According to the last posted version of my rules, i was not allowed to read D/s blogs (or really any sex blogs as the rule actually played out) without explicit, advance permission.

Now, i’m not only allowed, but encouraged – even mandated – to visit sex blogs to my hearts content.

Why the change? Our relationship has always been multifacted, but the end of 2008 found the D/s aspects slipping more than either of us really wanted, and we are trying to rebalance that in the new year. My Master wants my submission to be more forward in my mind again, and knows that reading about others submission does that for me.  Also (and this deserves its own blog post) some of the aspects of my submission were becoming “de-sexualized” and my Master wants his “submissive, wet and eager-to-please” little slut back.  So, time for a rules change.

Adjusting to the change has been harder than you might think – i’ve gotten really used to not including sex blogs in my daily net surfing, so i have to consciously remember to do it!  And a lot of my favorite bloggers from when i used to read blogs aren’t posting anymore.

So, readers, can you please help this poor slavegirl out? Who are your favorite bloggers? Who’s writing the hot sexy posts that will have my cunt wet and ready at all times for my Master? Male D, fem s slightly preferred, but hot is hot, so no need to restrict it to that.