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A Geeky and Kinky Weekend

Published on November 6, 2011 in anxiety, assault, bdsm, bisexuality, caning, D/s, emotions, exhibitionism, flogging, forced orgasm, kink, lesbian, masochism, orgasm denial, orgasm on command, sadism, sex, sex parties, sexuality, shio, spanking, squirting, stress, stupid people, submissive and Uncategorized. 0 Comments

MasterDoc and I are home from the Geeky Kink Event. The idea of geekiness and kinkiness in one weekend was too much to resist.

Unfortunately, there were few sessions we were interested in attending – either they were too basic for us (such as the anatomy of masturbation) or just not well run. I can’t speak on the myriad sessions I skipped, but that was our general view. Also I run into the problem that I’m often not a geek for things that make up “geeky” events. I don’t watch Dr. Who (though I love Torchwood), or Buffy, or anime. I don’t know how to play many of the games geeks play. I needed a nice corner with Monty Python and popular music geeks to hang with.

I still had a good time. Our friend V. was there for the weekend with her girlfriend and I got to have lunch with them on Saturday. Shane was there, spending some time running (or attempting to run) games in the gaming room, but mostly spending time with an ex who had come along to hang out. (Alas, I did not get naughty naked time with Shane this weekend.) We met a cute, nice young woman who MasterDoc met on fetlife – she’s eager to become a librarian. After my initial advice of, “Don’t do it!,’ I followed that with, “Just kidding. But are you ready for a life of poverty?” It’s funny, I love my work in many, many ways, but knowing how tight the job market is, how difficult and stressful it can be doing more with less after massive budget cuts, I’m not as eager to encourage others into the profession. The profession itself is quite honorable – ensuring access to information to all citizens, regardless of income. (I speak from a public libraries point of view.) Like any customer-service kind of job, you deal with total assholes, but I’d say most people are at least ok to deal with, and others are just lovely.

Plus I get to buy books with money that isn’t mine. That’s awesome.

Friday night in the dungeon MasterDoc gave me a sybian ride – probably the first one I’ve had in months. Me and the sybian have been a little at odds with each other. Despite the incredible orgasms it can give me, I’ve gotten kinda sick of the machine as it eats up too much of MasterDoc’s time at parties. We put our differences aside, however, and I shrieked uncontrollably as I came. I find that I reach a point where I’m so out of breath I think I want it to stop, but then realize how good it feels and don’t want it to stop.

MasterDoc lay with me for a little while in the aftercare room down the hall. It was lovely to have an adorable young butch dyke offer something sweet to eat to help me recover. If I wasn’t such a scaredy cat at hitting on people I should have said she’s the something sweet I’d like. Since the mattresses were taken when we got there we ended up on a blanket on the hard floor. Oh well. The set up of water and snacks was such a good idea – every event should have an aftercare room.

All weekend, I was drooling over all the adorable baby dyke butches around me. I want one! My birthday’s coming up, will someone remember that for me? Mmkay? I got the impression that many of them were subs (collars being a clue) so I suppose I’m not really what they’d want. But if there’s a toppy, boyish, lesbian out there who’s interested, drop me a line. As much as I have a thing for transmen, I find that I prefer my butch lesbians to be boyish rather than manly.

It was fascinating to just people watch at the event. Lots of people wore costumes – Drs. Who and Horrible were pretty popular. One guy dressed as Dr. Horrible on Friday evening looked a great deal like NPH. There was a lot of steampunk aesthetic of course. There were sexy ladies walking around half naked, and even a few guys in that state. The creativity and gender bending was a lot of fun. Since it was a geek event, there was a preponderance of people who were perhaps social skills-impaired (or style-impaired), as well as a seemingly large percentage of the morbidly obese. (In costumes such as a Hogwarts school girl. Many things were NOT fun to see too. But I do my best to reserve judgement and support the idea that everyone deserves the right to dress up, or get naked in play space.)

We ran into a geeky, kinky woman we know who we haven’t seen in years. She didn’t recognize us because we’ve both lost weight and she had gained a little (in curves really, not fat, her tits looked amazing). MasterDoc finally got the opportunity to give her a sybian ride on Saturday night. I got my second one of the weekend that night as well, and squirted a fair amount. I hadn’t noticed Shane and his ex arrive in the dungeon because I was too busy coming.

The black cloud of the weekend was seeing the guy who sexually assaulted me several years ago. I knew he was going to be there since he was slated to teach one of the sessions (just the person you want to give some sort of legitimacy to by having them present at your event, no?) but it was still a shock and trigger when we went to the hotel bar for our free drink and there he was. I felt panicked and grabbed MasterDoc to tell him who was there. We got our drinks and sat down away from the douchebag and the poor unfortunate woman he undoubtedly got to pay for his hotel room. I had some PTSD to deal with when we hung out in our room waiting for dinner to be delivered.

He later appeared in the dungeon while MasterDoc was giving sybian rides, but I had popped a xanax by that time. He steered clear of me (if he recognizes me), I steered clear of him. Thankfully, I only saw him those two times. I was hoping I’d luck out and not see him at all. As I carried our heavy toybag down the hall Saturday night, I had a momentary fantasy of coming across him and feigning an accidental plowing into him with the bag. I’d say, “Oops. That was an accident. Don’t worry, it was just a bad thing that happened to two good people.” (He fed me that line while refusing to take responsibility for his actions after the assault.)

The shopping was fun – I mostly window shopped but I also bought a waist cincher that fits me. I need to sell off the two larger corsets I have. V. would like to try them on and maybe buy them from me. Fingers crossed they fit her. The hotel room had a full length mirror, and I rarely look in one, but I had to gaze at my transformed body for a bit. I understood how it is that people have told me I look even taller now. I do somehow. I guess because I’m narrower than before but still every bit as tall.

My new thinness gave me a certain boost of confidence, but my skin heard it was a geek event and decided to have a small breakout. Gee, thanks skin! Nothing like a big, red, cystic zit on the side of my neck, eh? There were a couple of equally red but much smaller pimples on my face. My bangs mostly hid those though.

Overall there were lots of nice and interesting people there. We didn’t end up playing with anyone we didn’t know (with the exception of MasterDoc giving a few ladies sybian rides). Our geekiness does translate into a little social awkwardness too. DeeDee is the social butterfly, but she wasn’t with us. I got to see intense scenes – one that I would NOT want to do myself, but it was intense and gripping to watch. A Dom used a staple gun to shoot staples into his subs upper arms. Youch. I cringed repeatedly, hopefully they didn’t notice or didn’t mind the reaction. There was a long-lasting flogging and spanking that was fun to watch too. MasterDoc gave me a caning before Saturday’s sybian ride, but that was our only bdsm play over the weekend.

The Good and The Sad

Published on October 24, 2011 in anxiety, crazy, D/s, depression, emotions, exhibitionism, mental illness, musings, show, submissive and Uncategorized. 2 Comments

I’m even more behind in blogging than usual. Over a week ago, MasterDoc and I did a show for the first time in a long time. It was a guy we had had over before, and like before I finished the scene with giving our guest a prostate massage until he came all over my tits. I have a few drafts, barely started, of posts about sexual things.

I’ve had some fantastic sex with MasterDoc. I also had Shane over last week (rowr); we hung out and again had awesome sex. I rode him, and when he’d reach his fingers to rub my clit I would grab my ankles and lean back a little. I think that’s when I came the hardest.

But the terrible part is, despite great sex, despite orgasms that blew my mind, I was mired in a severe depression for a few days.

This sucker was the type to blow all my usual depressions out of the water. When I was a teen, I was hospitalized for three months with depression. This felt like that sort of depression.

I thought I was all over this deep of an illness. I had matured, gotten medicated and better able to handle mood issues. But for the first time in well over a decade, I had fears of being hospitalized again.

I’m usually quite comfortable discussing depression. I feel that if it’s not talked about it remains mysterious and strange for those who aren’t mentally ill. But this time around I felt shame. I felt shame that I am so fucked up that I’m technically one of those people who are being made fun of when people joke about crazy people. (Pisses me off that if I had cancer or diabetes or some-such, the teasing would be just shocking to everyone and the jokers would be shamed.) I struggled with simply taking care of myself, which of course makes my submissive duties much, much harder. I felt ashamed that I couldn’t be a fully effective submissive.

I get pissed off that my illness could be used against me when I speak out about the times I was raped or sexually assaulted. My being mentally ill doesn’t mean those things didn’t happen, weren’t traumatic (to even an ordinary, mentally fit person) and doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be taken seriously. It’s so easy to take advantage of the mentally ill. People don’t take us seriously. We doubt ourselves a lot. Even when I’m not in an ill state, having “crazy” thrown at me (like after I was assaulted) stings like a motherfucker.

Usually, when I’m depressed I feel sad, out of sorts, have a hard time functioning. But this Friday-Sunday it was beyond that. I spent time with MasterDoc Saturday night, and despite amazing (truly AMAZING) orgasms, I cried as we cuddled after. I just couldn’t stop the tears. He’s one of the very few people I can relax around and just go with what’s going on. And it is amazing how he lets me cry and is just there for me.

On Friday, I felt like my chosen family wasn’t taking the severity of my depression seriously. But a talk with my friend DivaSub made me realize something – I have gotten very, very good at hiding just how mentally ill I can be. That conversation reminded me of one in high school with my best friend. I couldn’t understand how people didn’t know that I was totally miserable and anxious enough for regular panic attacks. My friend pointed out to me that I always seemed happy. I have become TOO good at not letting people know what’s going on inside. I think MasterDoc is the only person who I will let my guard down around and cry because of depression.

Let me explain for those who haven’t experienced it – it’s not that I’m sad 24/7 when I’m depressed. I have ups and downs, but my mood swings wildly and the downs are more frequent and much deeper than normal. I have anxiety that makes me not want to leave the house. I fear that the careful control I have will break down and I’ll be crazy in public. So the best thing to do is avoid being out of the house as much as possible.

I fear getting so mentally ill that I have to take a break from work. I fear that everyone will know then that I’m ill.

I hate the fact that I feel shame over this. I can’t control it. I’m not a bad person. But I have bouts when I’m quite depressed, when my brain isn’t working right and I can’t muster energy for basic functions. I’m sad and teary often. Please remember though, most of the time I feel quite mentally stable. (As I feel right now.) And this is probably true for a great many mentally ill people.

We Actually Went Out

Published on October 10, 2011 in anxiety, bdsm, blow jobs, cunnilingus, D/s, forced orgasm, orgasm on command, sex, spanking and Uncategorized. 1 Comment

My extreme homebodiness gave me a little reprieve Friday night. I didn’t feel averse to going out, and got to go out with MasterDoc for the first time in a while. (DeeDee was unfortunately sick and stayed home.) For a total change of pace, we started the night in the bdsm club. There was a presentation arranged by a local group before the club opened. The topic sounded interesting and so we went. Hey, how bad can a talk and demonstration of kinky stuff be?

Now I won’t name names because I don’t want to be bitchy towards the person who presented or the people who arranged it. But despite good info and good demonstrations (the demo model was just adorable and they had great chemistry) the presentation was amazingly tedious. I didn’t know anyone could possibly make bdsm THAT boring. I wanted to hit my head against the wall. I pictured the episode of The Young Ones (called “Boring”) where Rik breaks down sobbing because Neil the hippie is taking a long time to explain something and it’s horribly boring. I felt like Rik.

The hour or so of lecture was mostly painful, but even after we didn’t opt to stay at the club. We rarely go to this club because although they have lots of bdsm equipment, there’s no sex allowed. (NYC law. No alcohol either.) MasterDoc and I both like our bdsm with sex ultimately.

We went to the usual swing club. It was fairly busy when we got there, and became even busier later. MasterDoc nearly got distracted by the ladies around us but then remembered that the best way to handle me is to make me come first. After that I’m pretty mellow for the rest of the evening. We commandeered the large bed and MasterDoc went down on me. I strangely had a strong negative reaction to this. I’m not big on oral these days. I preferred it to sex when I was much younger, but now I’d rather have the sex. And since we were in public, I was in my collar and people were watching, it made me uncomfortable to have MasterDoc going something that seems like servicing me. While he and I are both of the opinion that if a Dom wants to eat pussy, then (s)he should do as (s)he damn well wishes. The act itself isn’t necessarily submissive. But I know that other people might see it differently, and I felt uncomfortable having my Dom seem less domly in public. I couldn’t come even though I tried to close my eyes and focus on the sensations of his tongue.

We took a break, and MasterDoc said that it’s ok, we weren’t on a schedule. I explained to him my reaction, and I don’t think he expected that to be the issue at all. He had me suck his cock, and I was better able to get into subspace and enjoy myself then. He got into Dom mode and started making me gag on his cock. I loved it. Saliva was running out of my mouth. He slapped his cock against my face and then shoved me down on it again. I love this sort of play lately. One time he gagged me enough that I was feeling kinda floaty by the time I got air in. I like when it gets that way. My jaw became a bit sore, but I wanted to make him feel good and to perform well in front of the people around us.

Our friend Veronica came in and started playing with a couple of guys. She’s cute so it’s quite nice to see her naked and fooling around. MasterDoc flipped me over at one point, and made me come by slapping my ass and cunt. It felt good to come. My eyes clenched shut and the world around me receded. I did wonder to myself if my orgasm faces were making any of the men around me hot. As I think I’ve said before, while I love knowing there’s an audience, I mostly prefer not to look at them.

I sucked MasterDoc’s cock hard again. (Complete with more choking. I think both of us like it when he’s all rough and dominant with me with an audience. While heading out for the evening, I got hot thinking about being his dirty slut.) He fucked me from behind, and goddamn did I come! He surprised me with lots of intense pounding. For a moment I thought the pain of my pummeled cervix would be too much, but then I came some more and forgot about it. It actually might have added to the experience. I could feel my tender cervix for hours after.

The club was unusually busy, and the owner pressed MasterDoc and I into service with hanging up coats and giving tours. I grinned as MasterDoc got to lead around a pack of attractive women. He had turned on the charm and it was cute to watch. Despite my feeling shy, MasterDoc made me help out and give a tour. It went okay as the couple was nice. The woman was quite heavy, and yet I thought she was kinda sexy. Of course, I think more than a few people thought we worked there by the end of the evening.

MasterDoc sat among the lovely ladies he gave the tour to earlier. A couple of people asked what’s in our large toybag. MasterDoc showed them. One of the ladies commented on how he has a pretty woman (me) and that he’s lucky. I grinned as this triggered his, “She’s the lucky one” story.

MasterDoc rightly points out that how he gets attractive women is by honestly believing that the woman is the lucky one to be with HIM. With some men this would be delusional, but with MasterDoc it’s true – I’m lucky to be with him. (He will admit he’s a lucky man to have me and DeeDee.) He may look unassuming, but he is quite extraordinary. And he knows it. (He also knows he’s not perfect.)

The club was so unusually crowded that we didn’t end up playing any more. As we drove home, we passed a large, hipster bowling place and I thought to myself – I’d had a MUCH better night than going bowling could possibly be. This made me smile.

Even though my collar was off, I addressed MasterDoc as Sir at one point. I’m not required to call him Sir unless he issues a direct order OR my collar is on. But I think it’s good when it slips out on its own. While I’m glad MasterDoc is not heavy on protocol, I wonder if sometimes it would be better for me to have to be a bit more respectful. On the other hand, until he got to know me and how I love to tease those I love, it was a bit difficult to get away with teasing.

Pushing Limits, Part I

Published on September 25, 2011 in anxiety, bdsm, blow jobs, D/s, DeeDee, dom, edge play, embarrassment, forced orgasm, horny, humiliation play, kink, masochism, masturbation, orgasm on command, sadism, sex, sex toys, spanking, submissive and Uncategorized. 0 Comments

As you know, I’ve been finding it hard to find time to write. And if it’s not time I’m looking for, it’s motivation. I find that this week in particular has been busy with work (and work-related stress), chores around the house, and assorted other bits and pieces. To top it all off, I have to work today, Sunday, for a few hours. It feels like a sub’s and a librarian’s work is never done.

This is partially (but only partially!) down to perception. I have had some stellar time alone with MasterDoc this week. But I find when I truly have downtime, that I just want to do mindless stuff like watch a show, or play The Sims. Writing seems beyond my energy level.

But before I head off to work today, I vowed to try to get at least one blog entry written. So here we go.

Yesterday, I was really craving kink. It was funny because MasterDoc was in a totally cuddly mood. I think other than caning and such, he doesn’t necessarily push my limits as often lately. He managed to get himself into the mood talking dirty to me. And I got to experience some kink that really did push my limits.

He started talking about humiliating things he could do to me. And just the idea of most of it pushed my limits. I hoped that some of these ideas would only amount to talking, but it seems he wanted to give me what I wanted – kink.

He took me into the bathroom to piss on me. I find that piss play is something I truly hate doing, but I kinda like him being dominant and making me do it. I hesitated on taking my vibe along, because I wasn’t feeling horny at the idea of his piss. He pointed out that it was up to me, but why not get an orgasm out of it? I relented and grabbed it on the way out the bedroom door.

He had me kneel in the tub. He grabbed the closest breast and started slapping his cock against it. “See, if I slap it hard enough it keeps my cock from getting aroused.” A frequent (male) piss Dom problem is getting aroused by the idea and then being unable to pee thanks to the hard on. (I always hope for a hard on.)

“Get that other tit over here.” He said and I turned towards him. He continued to play with my tits, call me his piss whore and tell me I could come when I felt his piss. I ran the vibe over my clit, not sure if I could get aroused enough to come. But then the whole thing is arousing despite being totally repulsive at the same time. I suppose it’s a part of submission/masochism that is difficult to understand. “I don’t want to do that thing, but I want you to make me, because your making me is hot.”

So he pissed on my tits, and I came. I buried my face in his tummy as best I could. I feel embarrassed to be coming at that point. It always feels like he has the bottomless bladder. When he pees on me, it feels like it goes on for several minutes. Towards the end, I couldn’t come anymore so I turned my head towards the wall in humiliation, because now I was just experiencing him peeing on me without the distraction of an orgasm.

He was in a merry mood after, and went to wash his hands. I couldn’t wait to get the piss soaked vibrator put down and the tub water running to clean myself off. I learned the hard way one time that you need to do more than rinse, you need to use soap and scrub slightly. And you need to remember that your hands have been pissed all over. One time, I rinsed my body well but forgot my hands and had to smell his pee all evening. Yuck. This time, I scrubbed and rinsed carefully.

I think one of the downsides to piss play is that the aftercare happens after a lapse. I’m left alone to rinse off, and getting wet inevitably means I feel a chill after. (Especially when I walk in the bedroom and he has turned up the air conditioning.) I think I’m still processing the experience whereas he’s been distracted by other things while waiting for me. I need a warm blanket and some adoring cuddles after piss play. While he can humiliate me as my Dom, I need reassurance after that he loves me even if I’m his filthy piss slut.

After a little recovery under a sheet to keep warm, he moved on to phase two. I had so hoped he wasn’t serious about phase two.

He gave me the kneepads. He told me to put them on and get the leash. Lately he not only has me wear my collar, but also wrist cuffs during play. I like it, but I find it much easier to be little miss subby when it’s just him around. (Or I can usually deal with him making me crawl into DeeDee to say hello.) The catch of this bit of impending puppy play? DeeDee and her other serious boyfriend were in the living room watching tv. MasterDoc instructed me to crawl into the living room, bounce around like a playful puppy, bark and pant. My brain could NOT get my head around doing something so embarrassing in front of DeeDee’s other boyfriend.

Now, you need to know that her other boyfriend is kinky too, so none of this would make either DeeDee or her boyfriend freak out. I was the only one freaking out. I crawled as far as the curtain that hangs over the entrance of the living room to keep air conditioning in. I could not make myself go any farther. I stayed hidden behind the curtain. I told MasterDoc it would be easier if he went with me, but he wanted me to go alone. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

In doggy fashion, I turned to him and whimpered and whined like any dog would when faced with something they really didn’t want to do. This didn’t produce pity unfortunately. He got the riding crop and smacked my ass until I crawled in. I hung my head down nearly the entire time. I could get through the embarrassment if I didn’t have to look at the people in the living room. He told me to lift my head and pant, and I simultaneously closed my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see. Ultimately, the embarrassment happened. But MasterDoc said I got a C- for that performance and he was a little annoyed with his misbehaving little bitch. Meanwhile DeeDee and her gentleman said, “Awww.” when the puppy came in. They thought it was cute.

He led me by leash back to the bedroom. I crawled until I was in the room. It’s funny, but I can’t recall the less stressful bits right now. I know I asked for aftercare. He hadn’t thought that scene would need aftercare, but I pointed out that it was a very intense scene for me. I got some cuddles.

End of Part I

Angst and Sex

Published on September 8, 2011 in anxiety, D/s, depression, emotions, forced orgasm, masturbation, sex, sex toys, stress, threesome and Uncategorized. 0 Comments

I’ve been officially living with MasterDoc and DeeDee for over a week now. The stress of moving, compounded by a sinus infection and then my car being broken into and stolen from, has left me feeling depressed and almost killed my libido. This depression seems to be lingering longer than I’d like. The kicker I suppose is that I was feeling better Friday morning as I left for work… only to find the passenger side window on my car shattered and my stuff rifled through. Argh! I think I felt a little like Charlie Brown with Lucy and the football. I kept thinking, “Ok, today will be better!” only to have the “football” swiped out from under me, again.

I’ve been yearning for attention and cuddles from MasterDoc much more than sex and orgasms. We have fooled around a few times. We did some assisted masturbation where I used the Hitachi on myself and he added to the experience with grabbing my hair and such. Rowr. I came remarkably hard, but I wasn’t feeling particularly horny the rest of the time. On Saturday, MasterDoc wasn’t feeling himself (he had a rough week as well) so I did my best to be helpful to him. DeeDee and I attended to him. I sucked his cock, she did some spot worship (caressing the lovely spot of hair right in the middle of his chest). DeeDee, ever creative, went off to get something – when she came back she put some garlic powder in her palm, licked it, and spritzed MasterDoc’s cock with the new olive oil spritzer. Then she went down on him. It wasn’t erotic so much as amusing, but I give her a lot of credit for creativity.

MasterDoc had to wash after, since oil will deteriorate condoms. (You all know that right? Don’t use anything oil-based with latex.) When he came back, he decided to fuck me while DeeDee bathed. I had so turned off my desire that it was hard to shift gears and receive pleasure. The orgasms had to be pulled out of me. We expected DeeDee to come back in, but she wasn’t sure if she should.

Monday I was feeling particularly depressed and kinda moped around the place all day. I had angst over feeling needy but also being too scared to talk about it lest I be perceived as annoyingly clingy. This week I need lots of petting, reassurance and attention. I did speak up just a little, and thankfully later on MasterDoc suggested getting “freaky” as he calls it. I felt delicate mentally and he somehow found his missing mojo and provided me with the perfect combination of attention, domination, comfort, and orgasms.

He’s had his own angst because at least half of the last testosterone implants he got worked their way out of his body. He’s low on testosterone until insurance will pay for the next implants. This doesn’t stop him from being a horny dog, but his cock isn’t always as cooperative as he’d like. And like any guy, if his dick isn’t working he can feel hesitant to start fooling around. This has been the perfect week for me to remind him that while I love penis-in-vagina sex with him, he can make me feel good in so many other ways. That’s not as trite as it sounds. They say the brain is the largest sexual organ, and I tend to agree. While I need orgasms, I have needed attention and cuddles far more this week.

However, his cock decided to cooperate. Huzzah! That’s good for the old self-esteem (his and mine). He fucked me from on top, and pushed me into orgasm before he gave me the command to come. When he did give the command, I started coming harder.

Yes, I realize that with a life like this you’re probably wondering how the hell I could ever be depressed. As I pointed out to MasterDoc, my depressions seldom correlate with the quality of my life. This is why I consider it to be an illness and mostly chemical. Granted, poor behavior modeling on the part of my mother, and being a shy and intellectually precocious kid, only compounded my difficulties. These bits I can, and have, worked on and improved vastly. But the chemical bit is harder to treat. I’m medicated, but perhaps I’ve been on the same medication for too long? Or are there just going to be times where the delicate balance in my brain goes too far for the medication to handle. I don’t know.

The love and orgasms and attention from MasterDoc helped me tremendously. I am thankful for all the does for me.

Just “regular” sex at home

Published on August 17, 2011 in anxiety, bdsm, blow jobs, caning, cunt, D/s, edge play, forced orgasm, happy, humiliation play, kink, masochism, masturbation, needle play, orgasm denial, orgasm on command, sadism, sex, sex toys, spanking, submissive, trust and Uncategorized. 0 Comments

“Who wants to have sex?”

This sudden question from MasterDoc caused me and DeeDee to look up at him with surprise. He hadn’t indicated the slightest interest in sex earlier in the evening. When I recovered my wits from the surprise, I meekly raised my hand. DeeDee was watching a show and was interested in finishing it. I hadn’t had sex with him since Tuesday, and this was Sunday, so I was already feeling like I needed a little MasterDoc-iliciousness. The sex with the new guy on Friday was satisfying, but the connection I have with MasterDoc is unique and I like to experience it regularly.

MasterDoc started the evening talking about piercing me – on my inner thighs. Eek. I was really scared because I imagine this to be even more sensitive in a way than the outer labia was that one time he pierced it. I was working the Siri on my clit as it was getting late, and I needed to get to bed, so I had to have a part in getting myself warmed up. I had a hard time getting aroused because the needles scared me. Me, the person who pushed for needle play in the first place. Somehow lately that kind of pain strikes me as too much to bear. Other submissives and masochists out there will probably know what I mean by “kind of pain.” Different implements cause different sensations. A needle is different than a cane strike which is different than hot wax.

The talk of piercing was merely a mind-fuck (for the time being). He put me on hands and knees and fucked me, which, he said, would ensure I’d stop complaining that I hadn’t had his cock since Tuesday. The scene climaxed with me coming over and over again, as per usual. I wish everyone could describe their incredible, mind-scrambling orgasms in such a blase way.

Two nights later, DeeDee had plans, so it was just MasterDoc and me at home. I lay on the bed, face up, relaxing while waiting for him to decide what we’re going to do. He gets the medium cane (The only one he could find. Thankfully the only one he could find wasn’t the thickest one.) and starts caning my thighs. I “ooh!” and “ouch!” He orders me to spread my legs. He starts working on caning my inner thighs. Red cane stripes appear – but only on one thigh. He decides he must make the other one match. Interestingly enough, the second thigh is the one that bruised slightly the next day.

He has me roll over eventually, laying flat on my tummy. He canes my butt and I work to slow my breathing when it hurts a lot. I was in the mind space where I worried I couldn’t handle the pain, but then ultimately it turned me on. It’s not just the physical pain causing a biological reaction, but also the idea that I’m his. He can use me like this if he chooses. I have handed myself over to him in such a way that I trust him even to make me hurt. If he gets pleasure from it, I do too.

It’s interesting to have a dynamic with someone where you both love each other very much, and endeavor to take care of each other in your own ways, but that same person who loves you can make you hurt and leave bruises. I can see how a non-kinkster might have trouble understanding that. But when we’re in a scene, he takes me on a journey. I always come back safe from that journey, inevitably wiped out from lots of yummy orgasms after the pain. Four years with him, and I still find sex with him to be ultra-exciting.

Satisfied with beating me, he tells me to get over there and suck his cock. Pleasuring his cock with my mouth was delectable.I use various techniques he’s taught me over time. Most recently he’s asked for more suction, whereas before he didn’t want it because the head of his cock is so sensitive. He still doesn’t want the head sucked on hard, but I work my lips along the shaft, squeezing. I lick. I slap the head against my outstretched tongue. I work the base with my hand while orally taking care of the rest.

He gets a condom and puts it on, taking time to slap my cunt a little. He flicks my clit with his fingers. (I hate when he does that. I hate when he does it to my nipples too.) He works some lube into my pussy. He slowly slides the head of his cock inside of me. His cock is thick, so when I’m not especially warmed up I appreciate it when he goes slow. Just that bit of cock feels great, however, and soon he’s sliding the full length into me. As he does this, he props himself up on one hand and uses the other to slap my face. Oh yes. That was hot. Cock sliding in simultaneously as face getting struck.

He fucks me silly, I feel on the verge of orgasm, sure that I won’t be able to hold back until he gives permission. I whimper and moan, a clear sign that I’m dying for orgasm. I do manage to hold out until he tells me to come. When I come, he slaps my face some more, making me come harder, and pounds my pussy intermittently to really make me scream. I find myself orgasming for what feels like an insanely long time. I thought to myself that surely, I’d run out of steam and not keep coming after a while, but this took a very long time to occur.

Aftercare consisted of pillow talk and my massaging “the spot” on his chest. I think I cracked some silly jokes and we laughed a little. He touched me a bit and stopped when he worried that he was turning me on. But post-orgasm lately, I can get aroused and immerse myself in the feel of his touch without needing to go on to orgasm. It’s extremely pleasurable being touched by him. No one else feels like him. No one else knows my body as well as he does.

Anxiety is Not a Good Party Guest

Published on July 30, 2011 in anxiety, bdsm, crazy, D/s, depression, dom, embarrassment, emotions, libido, mental illness, neurosis, sex, sex parties, sex toys, stress, swinging, sybian and Uncategorized. 0 Comments

When I have a bout of angst and body issues, I sure know how to do it up.

MasterDoc and I went to a private party last night. We had partied at this person’s house before, he’s someone MasterDoc has known in the scene for many years. You’d think with my recent weight loss I’d feel like hot shit and all sort of confident. Last time I went to a party there (a couple of summers ago) I had a great time and ate out some cute woman by the edge of the pool among other things. You would think that I’d run with more abandon now that I’m not quite the “fat chick” anymore.

You would think that, but you would be wrong.

This time, there seemed to be a preponderance of hot, young people there. So many pretty women I’d gladly have made out with, but because of my overwhelming anxieties I didn’t get anywhere close. Instead I just saw many of them make out with each other as I yearned from the sidelines.

Social anxiety is something I often have, but I had long prided myself on being the first person naked at a sex party. Talking to strangers is hard, but getting naked and fucking them is not so hard. But last night I was convinced that I look worse now than when I was much heavier. The sagging skin I have from the weight loss got blown out of all proportion in my mind. The fact that I’m nearly 40 and so many women there were in their 20s intimidated the hell out of me. They were fit, with perky breasts. I felt like I’d look horrible in comparison. My clothes were on way more often than they were off.

To add to my mishegos was the fact that many of them seemed to know each other and were comfortable flirting with each other or just diving in. I felt like I was invisible much of the night. I’m sure MasterDoc was right when he told me it was because of the vibe I was giving off. But at the time I was convinced it was because I’m ugly and no one had the least amount of interest in me.

The evening started off okay. I felt awkward from second one, but I chatted lightly with a few people. I’m sure, however, that my social discomfort was showing already. I felt better when MasterDoc and I made out in the corner while two of the guests were serenaded with “Happy Birthday.” I had mentioned that I felt clingy emotionally, and early in the evening it sounded like he and I would get some quality time together, at least for part of the evening. He and I had had some cuddles alone earlier. At one point he took me into a bedroom and we stepped over the people getting it on on the floor and he fingered me to orgasm on the bed. Soon, the couple on the floor were taking over the bed, and as the woman was a pretty, young, firm-bodied blonde I felt soooooo intimidated. I felt like I must look like a sack of shit next to her.

What’s so bizarre is that my sense of attractiveness see-saws like crazy lately. When I did my make up for the evening I felt awesome. Put me around young, hot people I don’t know, and that crumbled. And not everyone there was hot or young. But somehow in my mind I was the ugliest thing on earth.

Things took another wrong turn when I thought perhaps MasterDoc and I were going to really play, but he got distracted setting up the sybian. I truly have grown to fucking hate that machine. It feels amazing to ride, but you try going to party after party with it and sitting around bored and ignored while your Dom gives women rides. I wouldn’t care if people just used it themselves and we merely provided it. But as it gets used at parties now, I HATE that thing.

MasterDoc didn’t mean anything by getting distracted. He has ADD and truly can’t help it most of the time. But in my mental state I just shut down. “Oh this is yet another party where I’m going to be ignored.” When my mood became apparent, MasterDoc focused his attention on me, but then that made me feel like it was just a case of, “Here Nadia, take your vibe, get yourself off while I watch. That will shut you up for the rest of the night.” I could not get into it at all. My view of it was terribly skewed, but arousal was not possible when I felt like such a troll.

Rather than watch the sybian rides and feel bored and left out, I took off on my own. I sat and did stuff on my phone, realizing that if there was any time I was giving off a “Don’t talk to me vibe,” it was probably then. Meanwhile, I would have been thrilled if someone talked to me. A young guy did for a bit. I wasn’t into him and I doubt very much he was into me, but he was at least friendly and nice, so I did my best effort to be chatty and friendly. It was a nice break from sitting alone.

MasterDoc had asked me to check in with him now and then, so I went to the basement and waited until he finished giving a sybian ride, checked in, and then went upstairs. I felt like eating. I mostly stuck to fruit but I had more cake than I should have. I wanted to drown my feelings in food. (Now you see how I got fat in the first place!) I felt so awful about myself, that I didn’t even go for a dip in the pool – and I love swimming. Late in the evening most people were walking around naked or semi-naked and I still had my sun dress on. I felt conspicuous, but I figured I look much better with my clothes on these days. And no one was giving me a second glance.

Yeah, the evening mostly sucked because I was filled with anxiety. What a waste. This morning I could see how I was blowing my body issues out of proportion. Sure, the loose skin is not attractive, but it’s also not as noticeable as I think it is. But around young 20-something women with the perkiest tits this side of the Mississippi, I feel ugly.

One funny point, although I’m not 100% sure that what I thought took place did. I was a bit intoxicated and a few feet away. But some guy started talking to this chubby woman and somehow seemed to think she was the “kinky librarian.” He mentioned seeing the name on the list, and wondering who that was, he wanted to meet her. I think that woman let him believe she was me. And you’d think someone pretending to be me would boost my self-esteem. It was very strange. I was tempted to go over and introduce myself, but then I wasn’t quite sure what went on in that conversation. So, dude, if you’re reading this, I was the mopey, tall brunette who stayed dressed most of the evening.

There was a break in the sybian rides, and MasterDoc and I found a room to be alone in. I got some cuddles, but pointed out that what would have been even better is if he had brought our toy bag along and fucked me silly. He noticed the condoms on the bedside table, and pointed out that we could still have fun without all our accoutrements. He fucked me silly. I was screaming in orgasm. It’s a wonder the whole house didn’t come up to see. He kept me coming and coming and suddenly my body issues melted away while I was enveloped in orgasm. Alas, they came right back after. But he made me feel spectacular, and the sex was the redeeming feature of the evening.

What’s Up?

Published on July 25, 2011 in anxiety, depression, emotions, mental illness, musings, stress, trust, Uncategorized and venting. 6 Comments

This post probably won’t be overly sexual, but just my way of blabbing about things on my mind. Hey, it’s been a week since I blogged, at least this is something, ya know?

I’ve been very sad the past day or so as someone I liked a great deal has decided that I’m a liar. This person seems to be suffering from delusions, but as I’m not a medical professional and only know what’s been on their twitter feed, I have no way to know if that’s what’s truly happening. I backed off when things started happening in this person’s life (at first thinking all the stuff was really happening – why would I doubt someone who seemed completely sane? I still suspect that some things this person has asserted really have gone on.) but I would occasionally vaguely mention them in a tweet to indicate that I was a) missing them, b) supportive of whatever was going on, c) worried about them. I hadn’t emailed them in weeks but last Tuesday I sent one. When I didn’t get a response I was left to assume that maybe their email was still compromised in some way.

Let me say as an aside, that my thinking this person is mentally ill is not meant to be a derogatory comment. I suffer from depression. I’m mentally ill. I understand that if someone’s ill it can be hard to see it and impossible to control it. I hope this person gets help – or that I’m wrong about my suspicions of their mental state.

I had backed off reading their twitter because even though I cared about this person I barely knew, I couldn’t do a damn thing and it was really up to them to get in touch with me. I would peek now and then, but wasn’t making sure to read all tweets like I had previously. Imagine my surprise when I looked Sunday morning a few minutes after they had tweeted something directed at me, calling me a liar, saying they don’t think I’m hacked (I never said I was so I don’t know where that came from) and to never email or tweet about them again. Ok. It’s hard to accept that someone I have done nothing wrong to thinks so badly about me, but if someone is mentally ill I don’t think arguing with them would help. So no more tweets, no more emails, and after this one post, no more mention of this person ever. I have no desire to bother someone who doesn’t want to hear from me. I have deliberately kept this explanation vague to give this person as much privacy as possible. I find it strange that they suddenly posted this message to me 6 days after I had last emailed (which was the first time in weeks) and 8 days after I had referred to them on twitter.

But I’m sad. I’m hurt. I’m disappointed. And I can’t do a damn thing but pick up and move on with my life. So I will. If this person happens to read my blog, hey, I’m not a bad person like you think I am but I doubt my saying so will matter. No need to tweet about not blogging about you, I won’t again and I’ve stopped reading your tweets anyway. Good bye and good luck.

___________________________________

So through the sadness I felt as I tried to process this strange turn of events, I reminded myself that I have MasterDoc. At the end of last week depression hit, but considering it was PMDD week, one day of mental illness was quite an improvement over the usual symptoms. (We’ve been playing with my birth control pill regimen – it’s useful to have a Dom who’s a doctor.) MasterDoc happened to be spending a night and morning with a playmate of his, and knowing he was going to the beach with her after I hadn’t seen him in a couple of days, and wouldn’t see him for a few days after just fueled my depression. When my mind goes wonky like that, I find things to obsess over. I focused on, “But he’s my Dom, he’s supposed to take care of me!”

Thankfully, I recognized the depression and I didn’t get angry with MasterDoc (not for long anyway and not when he was home). When he got home that afternoon I was happy to see him, got myself some cuddles and found out that he had in fact been concerned that going to the beach on the last day of my premenstrual issues was not a good idea. But hey, I survived. And spending time with him for the rest of that day was wonderful. It’s wonderful that I opted to shake off negative feelings towards him, and just bask in his affection. My mood improved greatly and my mood evened out enough to make it possible for me to get through the weekend alone without too much angst. (Except the section above.)

I also have fond memories of having sex with him earlier last week. The bond we feel and the way we both know how to touch each other so that the other person twitches with arousal is pretty amazing. Lately I had been having some insecurity thing about him not desiring me any more. That insecurity was mostly squashed after that night with him.

So I’m my usual ball of angst but I’m mostly keeping it in perspective. Time to get back on track with diet and exercise (during the heatwave we had this week I mostly didn’t exercise. The one time I did I thought I’d fall over and pass out with all the sweat I was losing despite being right in front of the air conditioner!), and focusing on the things I can change in life.

Intensity

Published on July 18, 2011 in anxiety, bdsm, caning, D/s, dom, forced orgasm, kink, masochism, masturbation, orgasm on command, restraints, sadism, sex, shio, spanking, squirting, sub drop, submissive and Uncategorized. 1 Comment

I feel bad that I haven’t covered the hot sex I have with MasterDoc as often lately on this blog. It’s noteworthy sex, but I’m feeling so lazy about blogging (or just plain busy) that I often don’t get to it. I have notes to work from about a hot encounter last week, and I’m sure memories of more recent scenes will pop in. This post may be a conglomeration of various times rather than a straight narrative.

From early last week, I remember the endless twitching of my body as he touched me. I’m so sensitive to his touch that my body reacts even if my mind hasn’t caught up yet. The twitches have become involuntary muscle movements. He sucked on a nipple as I diddled myself to orgasm. (Remembering this makes me want to go diddle myself now.)

He fucked me next, taking a moment to slap my pussy with his cock. My sensitive clit loved this. He fucked me til I came, which doesn’t take long. I was in another world and even ceased to be aware of the fact that I was being fucked while on my back – I was so disoriented with orgasm. He kept hard and kept fucking me while I came. When my pussy pushed his cock out, he slapped my pussy with it again. This caused me to squirt and could feel a splash as he slapped his cock against my pussy right before fucking me again. Getting a rain shower of one’s own come is certainly something different.

I was already worn out from exercise and now the orgasms. Orgasming like that is a very intense experience. I lost touch with all around me, and all I knew is that I came. That, and I was exhausted. Next he had me on all fours playing with myself with vibe while he caned me, hitting pretty hard. I had put the canes out myself, so I was delighted that he used them. I thought how hot it was to take pain for him. I can’t always manage to eroticize pain, but it’s awesome when I do. Taking pain became a deeply submissive act for me. I came as he alternated caning, hand slaps, and playing with my pussy.

He spanked, paddled and caned me again yesterday. MasterDoc pushed my limits and I even felt some fear – as he’d touch me gently, I’d remain tense worried that he’d hit me again. And often he did. Somehow I enjoy that fear in small amounts. He hasn’t instilled as much fear in me lately and to be honest I missed it. (Note that this is fear with someone I trust and know won’t ultimately damage me.) The scene was fantastically intense, and he hovered over my body as he made me come, and put some pressure on my throat. I have anxieties about being unable to breathe, so my brain read things as even more intense than they were. (I truly panicked that he would make me pass out, something which, while I trust him to be careful and take care of me, makes me downright phobic. He wasn’t holding my throat in such a way as to make that possible. But a part of me wants to let him go that far, like it would be a good experience to finally truly let go of control like that.) The spanking yesterday left my ass sore for a while. I wasn’t sure I could handle the pain he was dishing out, but as always I was just fine after the pain stopped. (Something I’ve been learning while doing bdsm, pain can be difficult to stand acutely, but I will return to normal as soon as it stops, and I can stand what he dishes out even if I think I can’t at the time. The fact that I always bounce back makes me feel strong, rather than weak.)

I needed a lot of aftercare after such an intense scene, but I had really needed him to be stern and Dominant with me. I felt thankful to him for giving me exactly what I needed. Cuddles helped my heightened awareness come back down to normal. The fear during the scene is one thing, it continuing after would be a problem.

Back to the other day. In the latest of his trying out unusual ways to make me orgasm, he commented that it would be interesting to make me come from pulling on my pinky finger. I said pretty much anything would work with him. I was beyond exhausted at this point. But as he ran his fingers slowly down my arm, I focused on the sensation and felt my arousal climb as his hand descended. As he massaged my pinky I came. It was diabolical how he could make me come again, quite hard, despite exhaustion, and without touching any body part traditionally considered an erogenous zone. Yesterday he did the same thing, making me come when I thought we were all over and I didn’t have the energy in me to keep going.

I hope you’re all lucky enough to have a partner who makes you come til you can’t come anymore.

Over the past week there was also some light bondage (wrists, blindfold, duct tape across mouth) as he made me come, and also I helped him come a gallon.

Reconnecting

Published on June 26, 2011 in anal, anxiety, bdsm, crazy, cunt, D/s, dating, depression, edge play, emotions, forced orgasm, kink, libido, masochism, needle play, non-monogamy, orgasm on command, prostate massage, sadism, sex, sex toys, stress, the writer and Uncategorized. 0 Comments

It’s been a crazy week. My hormones have had their way with me via premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD). I’ve learned to contain the craziness fairly well, but it’s still a hellish week for me. I’m gonna be trying a new birth control pill and see if that one helps.

MasterDoc had been away the previous weekend, and with my emotional state I really needed to reconnect when he got back. He didn’t quite pick up on this, and decided to do play piercing. I was scared and I ultimately knew I couldn’t handle it that night. But what do you say to your Dom? Plus there’s plenty of times I was scared before intense play but in the end enjoyed it.

We got in a little cuddling, but not nearly enough for me. He had me bent over the Liberator Axis and planned to pierce my labia. I cringed. He wiped off one side of my labia with an alcohol wipe. And he told me, “You have to keep still, slut.”

Even though I knew the pain would be too much for me that night (whereas he’s done this before and I could handle it), I did my best to hold still and ride it out. As the needle slipped into my flesh I screamed. Truly screamed. Despite this being manageable on another day, it overwhelmed me and made me miserable. I didn’t feel the type of fear that arouses me, but I felt actually afraid that he might do it again. This did nothing to turn me on. I did have a slight endorphin rush, however, but not enough to lift my mood.

MasterDoc realized his misstep and didn’t pierce me again, and he soon removed the one needle from my body. He moved on to regular sex, and while it was good to have sex, I had such a hard time feeling connected and getting aroused. I think I did manage to have an orgasm eventually, but not without a lot of work. We talked after, and he agreed that when he’s been away for a few days and I’m in the midst of PMDD it’s not the best time to do some intense play.

On Wednesday I saw the writer again (the guy of the last entry who I’ve decided to call “the writer”). I managed to contain the anxiety of the PMDD and enjoy watching silly dvds with him. We fucked again and it was terrific, but I was too tired to do it more than once. He crashed at my place and I dropped him near the subway on my way to work the next morning.

Friday night I was content just for cuddles with MasterDoc. I was feeling exceptionally fatigued from the PMDD and went to bed pretty early. On Saturday the PMDD started to wane a bit. I got the evening entirely alone with MasterDoc. We talked, reconnected and I expressed how I wish he’d touch me more actively. He did more of that and it helped me feel soothed and connected. I noticed that we seem to lay a bit apart during foreplay these days, and I wish that he’d press his body up against mine more often. These are all things that can be dealt with. Even in the midst of PMDD I was able to realize that my feeling of disconnect from him was temporary, but it was still a relief to feel connected to him again. The physical contact helps the feeling of emotional connection.

I wasn’t feeling quite as fragile emotionally, so I was enthusiastic when he told me to hang my head over the edge of the bed. This could only mean that he’d fuck my throat. This is hot although his balls tend to fall over my nose in this position and it’s hard to focus on opening my throat when I’m suffocating! He held them out of the way and I was able to keep his cock inside my throat for longer, although eventually my body forced it out. We didn’t do this for long but I enjoy it – perhaps all women wouldn’t but I do.

Soon after, he fucked me and made me come so much. I really thought that my arms would collapse from holding my legs up as he pounded away at me from on top. In the time he’s been having testosterone supplements his cock has become even more amazing. My vagina of steel doesn’t push his cock out as often as it used to. I can’t tell you how great an orgasm is when he can keep plumbing the depths of my cunt with his penis while I come. He managed to make me come even past the point where I thought I could. If the peak of arousal ebbed a little, he went at it a little harder or deeper until my face was contorted in ecstasy.

At some point, he made me come just by massaging my hand. I really hope all my readers out there find someone (if they haven’t already) who can do this to them.

He wanted to come and it has to be a targeted activity when he does. He had me get between his legs to play with his thighs and ass, and I playfully started kneading his butt with my toes (they were nearby at that moment). I not only have magic fingers but my toes seem to do a pretty good job too. I joked that this was probably the first time that there was a foot job and a foot fetish didn’t play into it at all.

I worked at that until my thighs were too sore from holding me upright and using my toes dexterously at the same time. I asked him if I could switch to my hands, more as a sign of respect to my Sir than any anticipation of him saying no, and of course he told me I could.

I massaged his groin, ass and thighs. He stroked his hard cock at the same time and I would pay careful attention to his reactions. He changed his mind about not fucking again and had me get on top. It was all I could do to not rest all my weight on him as he made me come again. He thrust his hips up and poked my cervix over and over. Eventually, he said, “That’s enough for you, young lady.”

I resumed playing with his ass with the intention of helping him come. He had me grab the Bob butt plug and I worked it in after having loosened his ass up with my fingers. This plug is a little more flexible than I’d want, but I slid a finger in underneath it so I could press it against the prostate. A few times I thought MasterDoc might come, but it didn’t happen. We were then interrupted by a call from DeeDee letting him know when she and her daughter would be back at the apartment. Our attention turned to snacks and away from sex. I still wish I had made him come however.