Archive for the 'happy' Category

Reconnecting

Published on January 17, 2012 in anxiety, bdsm, blow jobs, bondage, D/s, emotions, exhibitionism, forced orgasm, happy, kink, masochism, mental illness, orgasm on command, piss play, restraints, sadism, sex, submissive, trauma, trust and Uncategorized. 0 Comments

It’s funny how after a period of time when I’ve felt disconnected or out of sync with MasterDoc, I find myself wanting him to assert his dominance during sex more than ever. There’s been a few times lately when I haven’t felt able to handle some things we’ve done. These are things that I’ve done in the past with no problem, but I’m going through a lot of sturm und drang as I acclimate to a new depression medication. (Several years on prozac and the damn drug seemed to stop working. I realize that happens frequently.) There was a time he decided to piss on me, and unlike my usual reaction of distaste but thinking his control over me is hot, I freaked out a little. I was downright belligerent even though my collar was on. I declined to use my vibe to come and just begged him to get it over with. I could see that I wasn’t in a mental state to handle it. In the end, I felt a little traumatized. (Meanwhile, he opted to piss on my ass as a way to soften the experience since he saw I was in distress.) Thankfully a good heart-to-heart talk later and I felt better. Gentlemen (Dominants in particular), saying you’re sorry after you’ve inadvertently and unintentionally freaked out your sub/lover is not a sign of weakness. It is a sign that you’re a decent human being who wants the pain and the anxiety connected with bdsm to be pleasurable for you both. (Or, at minimum, not traumatic.) A simple, “I’m sorry,” even though you haven’t done anything wrong per se, is the most amazing balm.

There were a couple of other times where, in the midst of our usual amazing sex, he said or did something that didn’t quite affect me in the usual way due to whatever mental state I was in. I think a large part of this is how I’ve reacted to the new medication. I find myself feeling very much NOT an exhibitionist. (Uh, like, hello where did Nadia go?!) I find myself not wanting strange guys to grope me. Things that I used to love I’m not into suddenly. I’m also very inclined to withdraw both physically and emotionally from many things. I am loath to leave the apartment these days. I have done an extraordinary job of the lesbian sheep dance – above and beyond my usual. (I’m still seeing the elegant, sexy, Mexican lady I started seeing late last year. We’ve finally made out – due to her making the first move!! And I’m the one with experience with women. Oy. Words can’t describe how frustrated I am with my fucked up self right now.) While I’m still kinky as anything, I’m much more one-on-one than I used to be. Granted, I think I’ve been moving in that direction for a while, but there’s still a part of me that wants to be an exhibitionist. I can feel it still in there. Just not right now.

I appreciate the fact that I can talk so openly about what’s going on with MasterDoc. He’s quite analytical, so I can discuss my being unsure what’s a true feeling of mine and what’s colored by adjusting to a new drug’s action on me. He’s calm and can take criticism. He wants me to talk to him. If it wasn’t for him asking me a few times, “Is there anything you want to discuss?” I wouldn’t have opened up.

After our talk, we reconnected with sex, and I felt myself wanting more than anything to melt into subspace and have him show his dominance over me. I found myself thinking about the fact that he still hasn’t pissed in my ass (something he’s threatened to do and I’ve dreaded). It wasn’t that him pissing on me was a wonderful thing, it’s that he has the control over me to make me want to do dirty and disgusting things to please him. While not everyone feels this way, I find it exquisite to be under someone’s control like that. Not just anyone’s control, but this man who I’ve served for about four and a half years now, who has proven himself to be someone I can truly look up to, but also someone who’s human. There are times he aggravates me (rest assured I aggravate him often too) and I disagree with him, but I respect that he’s a highly intelligent man capable of introspection. He’s an interesting person because he has a mean streak – and when I’m in subspace that’s a fabulous thing – but also a great desire to take care of those he loves. There’s tenderness, but also sometimes a picky critic.

And then there’s the lover who knows my buttons so well. He can still make me come from just grabbing my hair and saying something dominant to me. *fans self*

There was a moment last night when he told me to put his cock head against the inside of my cheek so he could slap my face and feel it through my cheek. This was after some deep throating, which I’m getting better at doing. I can hold it longer without gagging. Although, I think I would like to have one of those porny blow jobs where I’m on my knees and he’s fucking my face while standing up, the drool running down my chin.

I found myself craving to please him but I also admonished myself not to get upset over not being perfect. That’s an unattainable goal and giving myself angst over it will only cause grief. But I love the moments when I’m in subspace and absolutely worship him. While it sometimes sounds like submissives are in a constant state of worshipping their dominants I think that a healthy relationship also requires being able to see your dominant as a human with foibles. Dominants can’t be perfect any more than submissives can.

The main attraction of last night was him restraining my wrists to his bed frame and then fucking the living daylights out of me. I have long been a fan of some restraint during sex. It makes me feel that more vulnerable to him, which sets me off even more. I think my brain was scrambled by the end, but happily so.

I’ve been working on being more vocal – not in the way of sounds (I am quite a moaner and screamer) but in the way of saying hot things. Begging for his cock. Telling him I crave his cock up my ass in that moment.

New Year

Published on January 3, 2012 in blog, exhibitionism, happy, musings and Uncategorized. 0 Comments

I’m not sure where I want to take this blog in 2012. I’ve debated stopping blogging off and on over the past year. I find that I’m less inclined to recount every sexual encounter. We went out for New Year’s Eve to the swing club, and I realized that I’m at a different place than I’ve been for the past few years. My exhibitionism seems to have taken a vacation. I suddenly didn’t find random men watching me get fucked to be as hot as before. It wasn’t a bad experience – at all – but it’s not the thrill it once was.

I’ve always had the tendency to go through phases – phases when I like to go out a lot (to swing clubs, dancing, etc.) alternate with homebody phases. I’m definitely in a homebody phase right now. Much of the time I’m happy to stay home. I think a large part of this is because I have a happy home life. There’s always plenty to do around the apartment – both in terms of working to keep it nice and in terms of stupid crap like playing games on my computer. With 40 just around the corner, I’m feeling a pull towards a more settled life. We’ve talked about getting a dog someday, and the idea of having to come home to walk and care for a dog isn’t as much of a drag as it used to be. (Plus with three of us it would be less work individually.)

There’s no way of knowing if this will last long-term or just be another phase. I have a new body that will take work to maintain and yet I’m feeling less confident naked than when I was fat. I also have a hard time not seeing myself as the fat girl anymore. When we were out on NYE I wondered if a couple of slim, hot women were saying bad things about me, but my friend pointed out that she thought they were actually thinking I’m hot and were interested. Having such a self-esteem block does nothing to help me.

I’ve contemplated writing a book but I’m not sure I know where to start. Everybody and their brother has a memoir out these days, so I hesitate to try adding my unusual life to the list. I’d like to post more on Good Vibrations magazine, but I feel at a loss for topics. I know I want to continue activism in bringing sexual violence to light and helping support survivors. I’ll be at Momentum in March and I look forward to meeting other women working hard for the same cause. Silence has gotten us nowhere. We need to speak up.

I don’t think I want to stop blogging. (I’m sure Good Vibes is glad to hear that as I owe them a review!) I think I just need to feel out what direction to go in. Sex will always be my topic of choice and I like presenting a real-life kink relationship to people. Perhaps my blog posts will be me pontificating pointlessly like this one.

Half-Assed Blog Post

Published on December 29, 2011 in D/s, edge play, happy, humiliation play, kink, musings, needle play, piss play, random thoughts, sadism, submissive and Uncategorized. 0 Comments

Beginning of blog entry #1. Around 12/9/11. Just a few jotted notes.

I wasn’t feeling horny when Shane was over. getting lots of cuddles. helping him a little as he jerked off.

sex next night with md. sucking his cock. him reaching around to get it wet and lubed. having me get on top to fuck. pushing myself close to the edge of orgasm, and for once really and truly reaching the point where i couldn’t stop myself from coming.

md would keep thrusting now and then, joking about Nadia the fucktoy who he could make come at his whim.

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Yup, never fleshed this out.

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Beginning of blog entry #2. Around 12/22/11.

I have been a bad blogger again. Enjoying fun things without taking the time to write about them. Life just seems so busy lately. It’s not the holidays so much as working full time, doing stuff around the apartment, seeing Shane, having a second date with the pretty lady (where I did the lesbian sheep dance once again! Baa!) and other assorted things.

And yes, I’ve been having a fair amount of sex.

Shane was over last night, and as we watched a show with DeeDee in the living room, he started getting me worked up. He played with my clit and strangely I felt self-conscious. I could not come. I felt like it was tacky to do around DeeDee while she was watching something. I know personally I don’t want my relaxation time (she’s been sick this week) interrupted by someone crying out in orgasm. Hearing it through a closed door isn’t bad. I did manage to convince him to head to the bedroom.

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Yup, more writing that was totally not fleshed out or completed.

Another notable night was a few days ago when MasterDoc had me kneel in the tub. As he prepped a spot on my upper breast with alcohol, he told me I could come either when I felt the needle go in my skin or I felt his piss on my body. I cringed.

I couldn’t come with the needle. It hurt too much for the first 30 seconds or so. But I kept playing with my clit as he continued to tell me to come. Eventually I came, terribly humiliated at coming as he pissed on me and went on about how I’m his dirty piss slut.

I have such a love/hate relationship with humiliation play. I find myself wishing MasterDoc would push me more and make me do things I find disgusting. But of course I also wish that it never happens. I don’t want to ask for him to do things he’s talked about having me do, because I DO find them gross. But on the other hand I’ve been trying to revel in being his dirty whore as I know he’s into that (and don’t worry folks, I’m into it too or I wouldn’t consider doing it). Whenever we see ass-to-mouth in porn I cringe. But he would love to do that to me. I asked him why the other night and he said, “Because it’s dirty and disgusting.” I keep trying to reassure myself that while it’s gross, it’s not harmful. (MasterDoc has explained that since the cock has been in your ass you’re not encountering any foreign bacteria and such.)

I’ve been trying to get better about calling him Sir. I was slacking off something terrible. I feel like our dynamic needs to be reinforced a bit more. I like that we can be casual with each other, but it can’t come at the cost of losing respect.

Last night I described him as a Sour Patch Kid. *grin* He starts out tart but ends up sweet. (Or, often, the other way around.) I love that he has both sides to him.

But, my friends, I promise a blog post tomorrow as I already have my part in Mia Martina’s “A Year of Sex” virtual book tour written and scheduled. See you then.

Knife Play

Published on December 9, 2011 in anxiety, bdsm, bondage, cunt, D/s, edge play, forced orgasm, happy, horny, kink, knife play, masochism, restraints, sadism, shio, squirting, submissive and Uncategorized. 0 Comments

This week I’m on the emotional roller coaster that is my monthly struggle with premenstrual dysphoric disorder. I feel like I’m constantly working to rein in the anxiety and agitation that goes with it. Taking a benzodiazapine helps, and since this is the only time of the month I need any, I can take it without worrying about tolerance or addiction. But even with medication, the mood fluctuations still exist and need management.

When I got to spend some time alone with MasterDoc on Tuesday, I was hoping for lots of cuddles and petting. I needed soothing to deal with the craziness that happens to me biologically at this time. I’m certainly getting better at dealing with it on my own, and this was never more apparent than when our naked time together started with MasterDoc laying with his back to me telling me to play with his ass to help him get off.

Starting off with his orgasm is rare. After all, men usually get one orgasm for the evening (unless they’re still young enough to get it up two or more times). The agitated part of me wanted to whine that I wasn’t getting the attention I needed. But the rational part of my brain said, “Ok, considering all the times he puts your orgasm first, you really need to be agreeable and allow him his release first tonight. (Not to mention the fact that he’s the Dom.) Also, you know he will make sure you are taken care of. It might not be penis-in-vagina sex, but he won’t leave you without orgasm or cuddles by the time the night is through.”

I worked through my whiny feelings and I did manage to enjoy making him feel good. By now I know just how to knead the muscles in his thighs and buttocks to make him twitch with pleasure. I slowly worked my way to his asshole, eventually sliding a finger inside. As I did so, I tugged gently at the entire perimeter of the sphincter muscle that holds it closed, working the muscle so it would relax.

After several minutes, MasterDoc came and I’ve learned by now to keep up the stimulation until he is done coming and indicates that I should slowly work my fingers out of him. I’ve been instructed to keep the pressure towards the front wall, so that any semen in the tubes gets gradually pushed to the tip of his cock and out.

I had made it through a selfish fit without throwing a fit. MasterDoc surveyed the toys I had laid out. (It’s my responsibility to set up the bed for sex. I put down the throe, make sure we have lube, condoms, my collar, my cuffs and any toys I might suggest for the evening.) He had already been concocting a scene, and the blindfold I laid out was definitely part of it.

Once I was in my collar, cuffs and the blindfold, he connected the cuffs around a pole that makes up part of the headboard. My arms were over my head now, and unless I was naughty and tried to uncuff myself, I was unable to use my hands. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

I tried to eroticize being left helpless. I felt excited wondering what would come next. After his return, he took a moment to raise the blindfold and show me what he had ready for play. My heart beat faster when I saw it was one of the knives from my kitchen knife collection. It was a small one, but I knew it could certainly cut me if used the right way. MasterDoc put the blindfold back over my eyes and the anxiety was something else!

You see, I have a bit of a knife phobia. I can handle using one myself, but if someone else is standing near me holding one (like those times when you start to talk with whomever is making dinner and they have a knife in their hand, which sometimes gets waved around expressively because it’s just there in their hand already) I get ridiculously flinchy. I could be five feet away but I’ll get anxious and hypervigilant of the knife’s location.

I knew that knife play, for me, would be very much about playing with my fears. (And, indeed, I had put the request in my wishing box.) I wasn’t as interested in cutting, although that can be part of knife play. Of course, since my brain chemistry was already rioting due to the PMDD, my phobia led me through some moments of pure terror that evening as MasterDoc ran the knife gently over my skin. He’d talk about making an incision on my inner thigh and I probably begged him not to. While the terror I felt was real, it was more like titillation as my subconscious knew I was ultimately safe. Even if MasterDoc did cut me, it would be careful and deliberate. And as a doctor he’d do anything necessary to prevent possible infection or complications.

I like fear play with someone I trust because there’s a certain exhilaration that occurs. I felt a little delirious with fear, but it most likely made my pussy wet. I’ve forgotten how exactly he made me come that night, but I came very hard, squirting a little bit.

In the aftermath, MasterDoc enjoyed showing me that there were in fact TWO knives. The sharp one he showed me, and a regular blunt dinner knife, which he used most often to run over my skin. The mind fuck was a success. My brain was convinced he was only using the sharp one.

I got the cuddles and petting I needed after the scene. And while I would have thought this week would be the worst time for something that intense, it was pretty amazing. I really loved it.

Bad Sex, A Date, Neon Wand, and Bondage

Published on December 4, 2011 in bdsm, bisexuality, blow jobs, bondage, caning, D/s, dating, dom, electrosex/tens unit, forced orgasm, happy, horny, kink, lesbian, libido, masochism, neon wand, non-monogamy, poly, restraints, sadism, sex, sex toys, submissive and Uncategorized. 0 Comments

The rest of the week, I had a busy but decent time at work. MasterDoc made me come a lot on Thursday evening just before DeeDee got home. (Actually, the time overlapped a little.) I love when he makes me delirious from pounding me hard and making me come over and over.

Friday night we had something we so rarely have – bad sex. Perhaps bad isn’t the right term for it, but for whatever reason I couldn’t get into it. He was in a rough mood and wanted to cane me, but, quite unusually, I wasn’t in a rough mood. (When this discrepancy in mood occurs it’s usually the other way around.) We played, but I had a hard time getting wet and wasn’t anywhere near coming while he fucked me. It’s such a strange experience the few times this sort of thing has occurred. MasterDoc told me not to worry about it, and for once I managed pretty well to not worry. After all, if someone else was asking my advice on the same topic, I’d tell them not to worry as sometimes things just don’t click sexually. It doesn’t mean anything ominous. We all have “off” nights. Considering how much fantastic sex we have the few times it’s not fantastic are barely remarkable.

I had a girl date the next day with a woman who contacted me on a dating site. She’s poly, identifies as bi but hasn’t done much (if any) dating women yet. We met at a small restaurant in Manhattan (that describes pretty much every restaurant in Manhattan) and had gluhwein – mulled, spiced wine. It was so yummy. I’ve looked up recipes but my lazy ass hasn’t gotten the ingredients together yet. The restaurant was quirky and the food was mostly French or German. I wasn’t sure how the date was going until she brought up my allergy to cats and she mentioned unfortunately she and her husband have two. She said she’d like me to be able to come over to her place sometime though. I grinned broadly. I told her that my level of allergic reaction does vary from cat to cat, and some cause only minimal distress. It wouldn’t hurt to try. The goodbye was my usual hug and air smooch by her cheek. I nearly worked up the chutzpah to kiss her properly just before we parted ways, but it ended up a slightly awkward moment, as I think a moment too late she realized I was trying to go in for an extra goodbye.

I think I need a theme song that will play here on any post where I do the lesbian sheep dance (see paragraph 8 on at the link). Any ideas? I like to think of Joan Jett’s “AC/DC” as my general theme song.

I enjoyed Saturday night with MasterDoc. I’m happy to report the sex was totally different than the night before. We tried the neon wand again, since it seemed pretty weak the first time. I say it’s no substitute for a violet wand really, but it can hurt, so as a toy in its own right I liked it. Not to mention it’s far cheaper than a violet wand. (This makes me think of MasterDoc’s pointing out that there’s a “Dom arms race” on – it seems like dominant men keep acquiring more and more impressive, expensive toys to try to outdo the others. His big purchase was the sybian.

I wore my wrist cuffs which we’ve been doing more of lately. I was over the moon when he decided to cuff my hands above my head, attached to the bed frame. This sort of thing turns me on so much! I have been trying to get him to do things like this for a while. (Maybe next will be a little physical struggle or pushing me up against a wall?) His bed is a large silver frame that looks like so many pipes joined together. It’s ideal for bondage. I’ve tried to get MasterDoc to try this for a long time, but he’s usually not fond of bondage because he wants me to be able to do all sorts of things to him.

We worked around it though. He tormented me with the neon wand for a while, threatening to put it inside my cunt. This panicked me slightly – it was a great mind fuck. I begged him, “Please, please Sir, don’t do that! Please!” I’m sure my wiggling and begging were a delight to him. He pointed out that it’s when the wand is slightly away from flesh that it sparks, and being in constant contact like it would be inside me it probably wouldn’t hurt at all.

He surveyed my position and wondered aloud if he could hold himself in position over my head long enough to get his ass licked. He decided he wouldn’t be able to hold it long enough to make it worthwhile. I’m glad he moved on to a plan b and came over to stick his cock in my mouth. He also lifted up his balls so I could lick them, and he seemed to enjoy even just resting his balls on my face while he stroked his cock.

He fucked me, and it was so hot to know I couldn’t get away. I realized that’s sorta silly since I wouldn’t try to get away anyway! But the helplessness is hot. He fucked me and it was like extra stimulation to have my wrists bound. I came like crazy. Since my arms weren’t free I couldn’t use them to hold my legs up. I worked muscles I don’t usually to keep them up. He made me come repeatedly and I held my legs up without support for much longer than I thought I would be able to do. I had a goofy grin on my face after.

Bullshit, Part I

Published on November 21, 2011 in anger, bdsm, consent, D/s, DeeDee, happy, kink, mental illness, mother, musings, sexuality, stupid people, trust, Uncategorized and venting. 3 Comments

It has been quite a week here. I’ve been sick, DeeDee had family issues and I dealt with premenstrual dysphoric disorder early in the week. I hope next week is far better.

I’ve been left contemplating how consenting adults can have their choices questioned (part I) but on the other hand people who violate withdrawn consent can go around denying it for years (part II).

Some members of DeeDee’s family have decided that she can’t possibly have chosen to be in a bdsm relationship. They think she must be abused. They’ve found my blog and point to my own history with depression (and the one time I was hospitalized for such 23 years ago when I was a teenager). People into bdsm are as varied as any other group of people. Some are mentally well, some have mental illness, some are awesome people who stick strictly to the notion that consent matters, and unfortunately, a few are predatory. People into bdsm generally like things more intense than others. Are people who like to burn their mouths on hot, spicy food sick people? How is this different? I like extra spice with my sexuality. I like the feelings of bliss released when controlled pain is applied to my body in a consensual situation. While I suffer from a mental illness, that is not what causes me to love playing with power differential sexually. I’ve had kinky fantasies since childhood, and while my family is your garden-variety dysfunctional American family, I was not abused at all in childhood. No one beat me, no one did inappropriate sexual things to me (or, indeed, any sexual things to me). I was treated lovingly for the most part and, as an only child for the first 11 years, I was pretty much spoiled. (On one side of the family, I was the only grandchild for 9 years. Oh yeah. Spoiled.) Being turned on by thoughts of bondage and helplessness just occurred naturally. (And, I might add, long before I was raped or sexually assaulted. Rape and sexual assault, sadly, are more common in this world than bdsm.)

The infantilization of those with mental illness would be humorous if it wasn’t so damn offensive. I would like to think that while I certainly talk about a lot of intense kinky sex here, I also very clearly convey the loving relationship I have with MasterDoc. He doesn’t take advantage of my mental illness. If anything he has mentored me in adopting better coping mechanisms. I don’t blow up in emotional outbursts as often as I used to. I’m far better at asking for what I need emotionally rather than stewing and expecting others to read my mind. Bad methods of coping I learned from my mother have been slowly unlearned with MasterDoc’s patient teaching. I suffer far less distress than I used to because I can handle things more rationally.

But, you see, I would bet DeeDee’s family will think he made me write that, or something. Determining that my agency has been taken away from me without so much as talking to me is also damn offensive. While I like the security of considering myself owned by MasterDoc, the truth is owning people is illegal in the United States. I am a free woman. I have a career. I can pay my own bills. No one is manipulating me to be MasterDoc’s submissive. I have the means to leave if I wanted. But I don’t want to – not because anyone has worn me down or some shit, but because I have a tremendous amount of loving support from my chosen family. My current household is so delightfully stable and placid compared to that of my parents’ house. (While ultimately loving, my Mother had a tendency to shout and have emotional outbursts. Thankfully my Dad was stable.)

I think it might actually disappoint some people just how normal and dare I say, equitable, our relationship can be. I can disagree with him. We will discuss things we disagree on. MasterDoc likes having intelligent women as submissives because he’s not looking to control someone 24/7 (not to mention the conversation is far better). He wants us to think for ourselves. He wants the best for us. He’s still good friends with his former submissives. Hardly sounds like they fled from him, huh? He walked one down the aisle as her bridal attendant and she counts him as her best friend.

But I could talk about that ad nauseum and still not convince people. That’s okay. I know I’m in a happy and stable relationship. I know MasterDoc has not ever laid a finger on me in anger, and never will.

Come Again?

Published on November 20, 2011 in bdsm, cunt, D/s, flogging, forced orgasm, happy, horny, kink, libido, masochism, masturbation, orgasm on command, restraints, sex, sex toys, shio, spanking, squirting, submissive, trust and Uncategorized. 0 Comments

Posting has been thin because I’ve been sick. I didn’t have the energy for orgasms, or writing this week. I wanted to though!

But Saturday I got some alone time with MasterDoc and I’m finally feeling much better. He put my cuffs on my wrists. The collar stayed off until we got to the bedroom. We put on some kinky porn (a full length Device Bondage clip on pornhub – I selected it). It was pretty damn hot. I got up for a moment to get something and complained that I didn’t want to miss any. MasterDoc paused the clip, went into the playroom and came back with his small flogger.

“Want to know what you missed? This is what you missed,” and he started flogging my tits. It made me giggle until the left nipple got a particularly sharp crack that made me wince. We smiled and got back to the porn.

Soon we realized that moving to the bedroom was overdue. We moved his laptop so we could continue the porn. I love how her helplessness in bondage is brought up by the Dom. If that was me I’d be so on the edge of coming if it was pointed out that I was secured. I still remember playing around with bondage with my first boyfriend. (Oh gawd, that was just over 20 years ago. I feel old.) He tied me to his bed with his school ties (Catholic school boys are freaks). I would come even harder whenever I pulled at the bonds and felt held down.

Yes, I’ve been kinky as long as I can remember. That was just the first time I got to do those things with another person.

There was no bondage for me today, but MasterDoc did have me sit on the bed with my hands behind my head while he flogged my tits, thighs, tummy and pussy. Someone recently expressed concern (not to me directly) that I’m some abused, broken woman after reading this blog. As he flogged me and I thought about how much I enjoyed it, I shook my head (internally, not literally) and wondered how our fun and games could be so misconstrued.

MasterDoc decided we should take a break to cuddle while we watched the porn. I played with my clit and I could tell he was stroking his cock behind me. Unexpectedly, he told me to come. Holy shit. I hadn’t been anywhere close to orgasm but I came within seconds. He gently but firmly grabbed my hair as I squirted a load of hot girl come on the throe. I was surprised by how much I squirted. Squirting seems really sporadic for me recently, but I certainly needed rehydration after this afternoon.

Huzzah!

He wanted to fuck me, and watch the porn, so we set up the bed. I was on my knees and could not wait for him to put his penis inside me. While I kinda wanted to watch the porn, I totally forgot about it when he started fucking me hard. He’d slap my ass a bit and then plow into me with his cock. I wanted to come so badly, but I waited until he gave permission.

Once he did there was no stopping me. The woman in the porn was on a sybian, and I marveled at how, like that machine, MasterDoc can make me just come and come and come. Seriously. I can only imagine the fun we would have had had we met earlier, although I’m not sure I could have handled him at a much younger age than when I met him. I bit the throe for a while and tried to bury my ecstatic screams in the mattress. While the coming would ebb for a bit, he’d slap my ass and plow into me some more, and I would be delirious with orgasm once again.

I have no idea how long he made me come. Wonderfully long. As I collapsed next to him, I said, deadpan, “I’m so abused.” This was good for a chuckle. Why do I find it so funny? Because an abused woman isn’t being given lots of orgasms, followed by lots of cuddles. She doesn’t find her self-esteem growing as her relationship grows deeper with her man. I have to laugh at the absurdity of it or I’d be pretty pissed off by the assumption that I’m only with MasterDoc because… well I don’t even know why. He’s beaten me down? Er, no. He keeps me on tight leash? Hardly. (Although that might be hot now and then. *wink*) I’m dependent on him? Nope, I’m not. Only dependent in the sense that I turn to my chosen family for comfort, support and companionship. I depend on them for that.

I thought that was probably all, especially since MasterDoc has started feeling under the weather himself today. But the porn kept running and I soon buried my fingers in my pussy. He returned to the room after a few moments away to find me masturbating. We chatted a little, and I reached for the Hitachi. With his assistance, I came even harder than before. I think you can tell the depth of the orgasmic feeling by my voice during it – it was higher pitched for the orgasms during sex, but got really guttural when I came from the wand and his hand. As I started to come he pushed the head of the wand against me. Fuuuuck. He slipped fingers inside my cunt, and also touched various spots on my pelvis and thighs that send me reeling.

I squirted some more. And lay spent. I gave him a fuzzy smile.

Surely we were finished.

I can’t recall how it came about, but the man made me come again. I’m just such a poor unfortunate soul aren’t I?

Hell no, I’m a very sexually satisfied woman.

Cuddles and caressing his the “spot” on his chest topped off a very pleasurable afternoon. (I’ve discussed the spot before. This patch of hair in the center of his chest that is just so wonderful to pet.)

Home Life

Published on October 4, 2011 in bdsm, cunt, D/s, forced orgasm, happy, kink, musings, orgasm denial, sex and Uncategorized. 0 Comments

I’ve been living with MasterDoc and DeeDee for a month now and I’m quite happy living here. I’ve hit a total homebody phase and am usually quite content to hang around the apartment. I’ve gotten a lot of MasterDoc time and lots of hot, hot sex. I feel terrible that I no longer feel compelled to detail every encounter here. It’s just that I feel like my writing is stale. The sex, mind you, is still fantastic. I think it actually just gets better and better as time goes on.

Last night we were both in a playful, silly mood. It’s not all the time that our moods coordinate, but last night they meshed well. I love that our D/s relationship includes silly time and affection. It’s not all “suck my cock bitch!” although MasterDoc does like to say that, or some variation, often. (And often in jest in the middle of regular life.) While the sex got started via cuddling, MasterDoc soon grabbed my hair (What there is of it. It’s short, which I’m loving except for the fact that it’s harder for MasterDoc to grab me by the hair) and turned me on a great deal by grasping me firmly and speaking dirty to me. I wish I could recall what he said! Foreplay entirely consisted of this sort of play, but I was eager to come by the end of it.

He fucked me from on top, a position that is far more common for us now than before we both lost weight. While non-genitally-focused foreplay doesn’t always fully prepare my vag for sex (you do know that the vagina elongates as part of arousal, no?) if I slap on a little lube and MasterDoc takes his time, it is sweet anticipation while he puts his cock in gradually. He has a big cock, something I don’t think I mention here very often. I find it to be just right for the most part, my vag just needs a little time to open up to accommodate it. When we first started dating, the first few strokes of sex would hurt. But after that… well it fits so snugly inside me that I feel every stroke as he slides it in and out. It’s awesome.

Not all women are into being penetrated (nor all men for that matter!) but I find I really like it. While masturbation consists of clitoral stimulation, if I’m with a partner I like penile or digital (or dildo) penetration. Too deep can be problematic as my cervix doesn’t really like a pounding, but most of the time I’m too far gone into orgasm to notice.

I love the sort of “dance” that happens during sex with my orgasm. MasterDoc does thrusting that he knows will get me going, and I sorta try to hold back a little. I can hold back from orgasm indefinitely, which is why he let me know a while back that if I “accidentally” come it’s ok. So I still hold back, but I don’t grasp at that self-discipline as hard as I used to. Sometimes I’m not sure if my brain will let me let go, then MasterDoc fucks me hard and I start to wonder if I could hold back even if I tried. I love the feeling of being pushed into orgasm. As I start to come, he says, “That’s it, come cunt.” While last night was mostly what you’d call vanilla, there was still some roughness – he slapped my face during orgasm. Rowr.

We only went at it for one round, but I was feeling fabulous! I didn’t mind spending the rest of the night in less sexual pursuits.

On a different note, I finally broke down and started a tumblr. I plan to use it to share random stuff that I come across, quotes and suchlike. So far it’s fairly political but in the future I’m sure to add kinky photos that I like. It will definitely be random. It will consist of things too long to tweet but too short (or off topic) to merit a blog post. So if you like, follow me there too. If not, no problemo.

Catching Up (But Not with Depeche Mode)

Published on September 18, 2011 in attraction, caning, dating, depression, happy, horny, kink, musings, poly, sex, slut and Uncategorized. 2 Comments

(Bonus music geek points if you get the reference in the title.)

MasterDoc and I had some wonderful scenes before he went away to Dark Odyssey Summer Camp with DeeDee for the weekend. I’m the lazy person who didn’t take notes right after. He caned me, because I was in the midst of premenstrual dysphoric disorder week. It is amazing how much better I feel after a good hard caning! I felt great, until the next morning when the endorphins wore off and my biochemical issues reared their ugly head again. Still, some relief is better than no relief. Truly. I wish I remembered more details, because at the time I thought how awesome the sex was. I don’t mean to brag, I’m just very lucky.

An old flame from a couple of years back has reappeared – Shane. Back in 2009, I enjoyed dating him for a few months. He was kind enough to drive all the way back to my area (after just having driven home from seeing me) when I had such bad stomach pain that I needed to go to the emergency department. That night was when I was finally diagnosed with gallstones and a few weeks after I had surgery to remove my gallbladder. (I’ve been happier and pain-free since.) But despite our not dating for long, he came, met me there and sat with me for a few hours into the wee hours of the morning. He kept me company while I vomited and wished the injection of morphine would take effect. In other words, he showed himself to be a very nice guy. He drove me home when I was released and headed home himself (for the second time!) to get some sleep.

A month or two later, our contact became sporadic, and during one IM conversation he told me he had had a car accident and hurt his back. Yikes. He pretty much disappeared after that. I didn’t feel any ill will, I just figured it was one of those things that petered out on its own. Several weeks ago, I was surprised to get a message from him on facebook. He wanted to reconnect, find out how I’m doing, etc. He didn’t assume we’d just start dating or fucking again. But we made plans to hang out, because as I said, I had liked the guy and felt no ill will when he drifted away. Turns out he was busy dealing with all sort of stressful stuff – his business being chief among them. He didn’t have time for relationships.

So with a lag of 2 years in between, I seem to be seeing him again. We hung out last night. He hadn’t assumed we’d fuck but I sure did. *grin* It was awesome. I still like spending time with him every bit as much as I did before. He should have a bit more free time now since his business is doing well, so he promises not to be a stranger for two years again. He has one of my favorite combinations – a nice, respectful guy who is kinky and dominant. Does a subby (hetero or bi) woman need much else? We’re close in age so we share some pop culture references that MasterDoc doesn’t necessarily have. My age difference with MasterDoc doesn’t have much impact on my love or how much I enjoy being with him. But now and then I want to wax poetic about some 80′s band and he’s not the one to do it with.

It’s funny, because while I’ve gotten lots of messages from guys who seem interesting on the usual dating site I inhabit, I’ve been feeling more introverted, as well as just tired of meeting new people. Shane showed up at a perfect time when spending time with a known quantity is more appealing for me than the stress of getting to know someone from scratch.

I can hear MasterDoc now, saying “Phooey” when he finds that while I’ve blogged it’s mostly about another guy. It’s just that there’s only so many ways I can call him wonderful, sexy, domly, etc. I can only gush about loving him, loving being his submissive (most of the time), and the hot sex so many times.

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.