Archive for the 'kink' Category

Page 2 of 20

Trying New Things

Published on November 8, 2011 in anxiety, bdsm, cunt, D/s, edge play, kink, masochism, piss play, porn, sadism, sex and Uncategorized. 0 Comments

I think that maybe providing a play-by-play narrative of our sexual encounters has gotten old. (For me at least!) But there’s usually some tidbit that is interesting or something I can expound upon. Despite over four years of kinky stuff, we still find new things to do!

Last night he used Icy Hot on my pussy for the first time. I had been feeling a little left out since he tried it on other ladies months ago. I think ultimately I liked it, but certainly there were moments when my cunt felt like it was on fire. The heat and pain would fluctuate. MasterDoc got ice cubes to cool it down, but for me cold is more painful than hot. I’d rather have the fiery labia than the sharp shock of cold on them.

He started off with some on my nipples; the sensation there was minimal. He threatened to pull back the clitoral hood and slap some right on to my clit, but it was initially a fake out and he rubbed some in to my labia.

It tingles, then it flares up. He applied more a little later and I paid attention to the ever changing sensations, trying to decide if I liked it or not. At times, it felt so inflamed that I imagined my labia to be greatly swollen. I suppose the thing that made me decide I ultimately liked the sensation was when he fucked me. My pussy was extra sensitive – on the outside. MasterDoc was careful not to get more than an incidental amount of Icy Hot inside. (Thank you, Sir!)

It’s funny, because while I can say that my sensitivity was heightened, I don’t know if I could quantify my orgasms as “better than” so much as “also fabulous.” I’m so damn lucky that I can be blase about the orgasms I have. I wish all the women reading this could have the same orgasms I do. You all deserve it.

The night before he did a wee bit of breath play while getting me warmed up. I tried to go with it as he pressed his hand against my throat slowing the flow of blood to my brain. But just as things started to get fuzzy I panicked. He released my throat. He knows that I have anxiety around not being able to breathe, and while it’s intriguing to think of him having such control over me as to make me pass out, I think odds are I’ll panic whenever close.

A good Dom will understand their sub’s anxieties and work around them or work on improving them. Traumatizing me would not have a positive end result, but gradually working towards something he wants me able to handle could ultimately lead me into new experiences.

Alas, I still hate the idea of piss play. I don’t find it hot. He called me into his room yesterday to see a video that Blondie had done in her porn days which included a lot of piss. Ugh. I lucked out when the streaming video froze on his computer. I didn’t want to have to watch all 30 minutes of it.

But again, while I hate it, there is something hot about being made to do it. There’s also a lot of grossness to being made to do it! Thankfully, he doesn’t do the piss play thing often.

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.

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.

Pushing Limits, Part II

Published on September 26, 2011 in bdsm, blow jobs, D/s, dom, edge play, forced orgasm, humiliation play, kink, orgasm denial, sadism, sex, submissive and Uncategorized. 0 Comments

It’s at this point that I’m unsure about my recall of events. I know that sometime he had me suck his cock. And I remember getting into it. I love trying my hardest to make him feel good and turn him on. He thrust my head down on his cock a few times, holding it there, giving me the more intense choking scene I’ve asked for. I had to struggle to pull away and get his cock out of my mouth throat when I couldn’t take anymore. This was hot. It left me a little lightheaded. A little drooling. He did this a couple of times.

“Now get on your hands and knees and take it bitch.” I wasn’t sure if the wetness from my earlier orgasm would be enough. He made me beg for his cock. I wiggled my ass trying to reach it. He slid it in slowly, which was good since most of my body’s lubrication was on the outside. But as I got into the fucking my pussy got itself wet, and soon I was panting, hoping for permission to come. He seemed to push me a bit, which I loved, and I couldn’t quite get to orgasm without his permission. When he told me to come, I came hard though. He kept fucking me, forcing orgasms out of my body. By the time he was done with me, I was exhausted.

This limit pushing evening was exactly what I needed. I like being submissive, and I need to be ordered around and roughed up now and then by the man I love. I love MasterDoc’s nice side too, but I need regular doses of the big, bad Dominant side. And I mean sexually – I get enough Doming from him being told what to do for chores. No risk of that not being enough. Speaking of which, I need to put his laundry away.

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

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.

Delightfully NastyDoc

Published on September 8, 2011 in anal, bdsm, blow jobs, cunt, D/s, dom, edge play, forced orgasm, horny, kink, masochism, nipple clamps, orgasm on command, sadism, sex, sex toys, shio, spanking, squirting, submissive and Uncategorized. 0 Comments

After a rough week and a half or so, it was wonderful to have some bdsm play with MasterDoc. It feels like it’s been a while since we’ve done a variety of bdsm play, although that’s not entirely true. Perhaps this was just the right kind of play on the right night for me.

MasterDoc spent some time planning the night’s activities, something that’s not one of his Domly strengths. He looked through my wishing box for ideas (I haven’t looked through it and updated it in a while though). He went off to the bedroom while I played a game on my phone in the living room. I was wearing a new chemise I bought from Frederick’s of Hollywood (I’ve always preferred them to Victoria’s Secret. I have always been able to find stuff that FITS ME at Frederick’s.) When MasterDoc came out, he pulled one of my breasts from the bra top and applied the suction cup to my nipple. The small one fell off, so he used a larger one, and that painfully adhered to my nipple. I had to breathe through the pain, but after a while it did subside enough that I could deal with it, although the pain never completely went away. He put cuffs on my wrists (he’s grown fond of the look recently) and gave me my collar to put on.

He left me there, and a little later came back out to take the suction cup off and put a clothespin on that same nipple. He followed that with a clothespin on the other nipple. He commented on how hot it looked for my breasts to be both out and over the bra cups and have a clothespin clasped on to each nipple. I moved gingerly so I wouldn’t disturb the clothespins. He left them on for longer than usual, but the nipple play got me hot. His next move was to have me kneel on the sofa so he could insert my Njoy butt plug. I had to sit plugged and clipped while MasterDoc watched part of the republican debate. (He’s a Ron Paul fan.) I felt like this was some serious edgeplay, having to watch the republicans bullshit their way through a debate. (Hey, the democrats bullshit too. I’m sick of politicians. But the democrats don’t scare me as much as Michele Bachmann or Rick Perry, for example.) MasterDoc removed the clothespins sometime during this period, but I felt like I still had them attached to me for quite some time afterward. The pain of the blood rushing in upon removal was intense. He had me wiggle every now and then to make sure I felt the plug.

Thankfully, after Ron Paul spoke a bit, we moved into the bedroom. I sucked his cock until it was hard. I loved when he grabbed me by the hair to pull my head up to his. He made me come by slapping my face repeatedly and telling me to come. My jaw still felt a little sore as I took notes for this entry later that evening. This was followed with more cock sucking.

It was time to fuck. He wanted to do it with the butt plug still in me, but I asked to take butt plug out because I thought having something that rigid in my ass as he penetrated my pussy would hurt. As he would say, he’s “such a softie” (yeah, uh huh). He took the time to spank my ass hard as he removed the butt plug. I got on hands and knees and he fucked me silly. Sometimes I rocked forward and back to help along his thrusting. I kept coming over and over – lost mostly in subspace reverie. When I stop breathing enough, my body backs off on the orgasms a little until I’ve gotten some air in. But the continued stimulation pushes me back into orgasm in seconds flat. He interspersed hard spanks with the thrusting of his cock. When he eventually pulled out, he slapped my pussy as I squirted all over my throe. I collapsed exhausted afterward, having come countless times.

I had been in need of him abusing me a bit. I think perhaps with all the stress I’ve been under he hasn’t pushed my limits in a while. It was great to get back to that last night.

His

Published on August 24, 2011 in bdsm, blow jobs, D/s, edge play, forced orgasm, kink, masochism, needle play, orgasm denial, orgasm on command, sadism, sex, sex toys, submissive and Uncategorized. 1 Comment

I’ve been quiet on the blogging front because I’m preparing to move out of my little studio apartment into MasterDoc’s apartment. I haven’t been working on that every minute, but often when I have free time I just want to kick back and play The Sims Medieval to relax and escape.

There have also been times of fantastic sex. But when I have time to write up a blog entry, well, The Sims call to me.

Last night we had sex, and his grabbing my hair and asking, “Now what am I going to do with you, young lady?” made me shudder in anticipation. He can get my entire body involuntarily twitching from just simple touches. I tried to relax my muscles, but the convulsing still went on whether I wanted it to or not. It’s like my whole body becomes a stand-in for my vagina. He had already gotten me to put my collar on, and as something different, he put wrist cuffs on me as well. He said he likes the rattling sound when I move and the metal on the cuffs makes noise.

The other night, the phrase that got me was, “I’m excited you’re moving in. Now I can have this pussy whenever I want it.” It’s funny how, despite an independent streak, I really love the idea of him owning me. I don’t want to be treated like a possession all the time, but when we’re in bed knowing that he can do whatever he chooses to me is exciting. While I’m a strong feminist with a successful career, it gets me hot to feel like he has such control over me.

Last night he brought out the needles. Thankfully he used them on my butt and not my inner thighs like he’s threatened. But the pain was still difficult to bear as each needle was inserted. I whimpered like crazy. He had me blindfolded but I could tell when he might be preparing to put in another needle when he grabbed a bit of flesh. I think he put in three needles, and while it hurt it would only really hurt for the duration of the needles being inserted. After, I’d breathe deeply trying to slow my breath and relax my body.

He brought out the Hitachi magic wand and pressed it to my cunt. “If you don’t want any more needles, you’ll come when I count to three.” Jeez, I was going to make sure I came! The needle play was intense. He counted slowly, “One…Two…Two and a half…Two and three quarters…” Argh! Evil man. I did manage to come when he finally, finally, said three.

After a period of time, he took the wand away and told me I could either play with myself or fall forward if I wanted to. (I was on my hands and knees.) I chose the latter. We cuddled for a bit and I played with his chest hair.

As I often do, I’ve neglected to mention that we started off with me sucking his cock, and then using my skilled hands on his inner thighs to make him feel good. I really enjoy making him feel good. Touching him feels good to me too.

As we cuddled, he said he wasn’t sure if he should just come and call it a night or if he should fuck me. I politely indicated that I really would like his cock inside of me. I think it had been a week. We fooled around on Sunday night, but there was no PIV (penis-in-vagina). He said that fine, he’d give me some sex. I continued to stroke his chest hair, and then on a whim I leaned in and started kissing and licking his chest. This had a great effect.

He fucked me from on top, and try as I might not to come without permission, he forced an orgasm out of me. Then he proceeded to keep me coming for an extended period of time. I’d start thinking that maybe I’d need to ask him to stop as my body was tired, but then he’d send me into the throes of orgasm again and I’d forget all about any fatigue. I was really amazed at how long he went on fucking me, and how I was unable to stop the orgasms from coming. I was exhausted by the end, but of course very, very happy.

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.

The Dark Secret

Published on August 11, 2011 in assault, crazy, kink, musings, stupid people, trauma and Uncategorized. 5 Comments

I have a lovely, happy blog post brewing in my head. But I also have this one. I’m gonna handle this one first.

If you’ve hung around here for any length of time you know that I was sexually assaulted six years ago at a sex party. I’ve written about the triggering and post-traumatic stress issues I can still encounter after all this time. I probably have also written that the shitty way I was treated after was just as bad as the assault.

And if I haven’t, I should.

The dark secret of the kink/sex-positive community is that not everyone plays by the rules. And even those who do often fail to call out the predators on their bullshit. I’ve submitted a proposal for a panel discussion at Momentum next spring on finding ways to address this rather than sweep it under the rug. I feel like I’ve healed to the point where I’m ready to be an activist. Because I sure wish I had had an activist on my side when all that shit was originally going down. I’ve spoken to various women over the years who have been somehow abused or violated within what should have been a consensual, mutually enjoyable kink scene or sexual experience. (I don’t doubt that the men who have experienced abuse don’t even try to come forward. Being realistic, the majority of survivors are women, but I think the men who experience this need us to listen too.)

As a brief aside here, I like the term “survivor” rather than “victim.” I was a victim for the duration of my assault. I’m not always a victim. I have survived people ignoring my clearly stated boundaries on two occasions. I’m bitter that they have both changed my life forever (the first was totally outside the scene) but I have prevailed and found myself a wonderful Dom who takes care of me, not violates my boundaries. (Waxing poetic on this will be the next post.)

A big issue going hand-in-hand with the violations happening is that most people in the scene won’t listen when someone speaks up about it. These assaults (I’m using it as a general term for rape, sexual assault, physical assault, abuse, etc.) are whispered about at most. Those who speak up loudly, as I did via my old blog right after the assault happened to me, get branded as “crazy,” “drama queens,” and “troublemakers.” Often they do what I did for a few years – they disappear from the scene, disillusioned that a community that gives so much lip service to consent could turn a blind eye. The predators doing this do it more than once. I know of at least three men within the NYC scene who have violated boundaries more than once. On twitter this week one of my twitter pals was furious and frustrated when she tried to speak up about another woman’s assault within her local kink scene. She must have received mostly the same sort of bullshit I had.

“It’s a he said/she said thing. I don’t want to get involved.”

Or they make up excuses for the person. “Well, he was drunk.” The support I’ve received over the years from people within “the community” has been minimal. But it is increasing and I want to lend my voice to those speaking out.

Let me start with this, if you don’t get involved, don’t take sides, then you are by default supporting the perpetrator. Silence lets this cancer flourish in the community. Sometimes, the predatory people are the ones running parties and educational sessions at conferences. This will not end until we speak up and hold our fellow kinksters responsible for their actions. I don’t give a shit if “that guy” seems nice and throws fun parties. If you keep quiet you are enabling him. (I’ll bet there are a few women who violate boundaries, but because of our socialization, it ends up being men far more often.)

I had the pleasure of meeting a kinkster guy recently, and we somehow got onto this lovely topic. He filled me in on someone being predatory that I didn’t know about, and I filled him in on the one I know about first hand. We compared notes and he too has seen women who speak up dismissed as “crazy.” Branding someone as crazy is an effective way to silence them. I’m sure this tactic has been used to silence women (and other minorities) for centuries.

But this guy I met up with brought up a concern we must address. He pointed out that in his experiences as a Dom he has made mistakes. People do make mistakes. But you know what? If you make a mistake you apologize, try to mend the hurt as best you can and learn from it. There are men like himself who hesitate to get involved in lambasting a predator because they fear that a simple, unintentional mistake on their part will place them in that position.

I know this can be difficult for nice guys to believe, but the chance of that is small. People who apologize and try to fix the harm they’ve accidentally done are not the types I’m talking about here. I spoke online with the guy who assaulted me a night or two after the event. I wanted to believe it was a mistake. I wanted an apology so I could do my best to forgive and move on. I didn’t get an apology. I got excuses. I got a scared little man trying to deny his responsibility and getting angry with me when I called him out. Soon I was one of those so-called “crazy” women in the scene. The few who actually listened to me and agreed that what happened was wrong were usually afraid to speak up. The predators among us manage to snag a few friends who will stand up for them, not really knowing what they’re like. The person who’s been assaulted, and their allies, get their voices drowned out.

Since I’ve seen this time and time again, I have to call all of you out on one bullshit excuse item: the idea that women make up stories of being assaulted to retaliate against someone.

Seriously? Go back and read my description above about what happens when someone speaks up. What would making up a story accomplish? Absolutely nothing. False rape reporting has been a red herring thrown about by the media for years. With 60% of ACTUAL rapes not being reported because of the dismal reaction victims of sexual violence usually get from law enforcement, how many women can be stupid enough to lie about it? There are a few of course, but the estimate of “unfounded” reported rapes is just 8%.

From Wikipedia:

FBI reports consistently put the number of “unfounded” rape accusations around 8%. The average rate of unfounded reports for Index crimes is 2%. However, “unfounded” is not synonymous with false allegationand as Bruce Gross of the Forensic Examiner explains,

“This statistic is almost meaningless, as many of the jurisdictions from which the FBI collects data on crime use different definitions of, or criteria for, “unfounded.” That is, a report of rape might be classified as unfounded (rather than as forcible rape) if the alleged victim did not try to fight off the suspect, if the alleged perpetrator did not use physical force or a weapon of some sort, if the alleged victim did not sustain any physical injuries, or if the alleged victim and the accused had a prior sexual relationship. Similarly, a report might be deemed unfounded if there is no physical evidence or too many inconsistencies between the accuser’s statement and what evidence does exist. As such, although some unfounded cases of rape may be false or fabricated, not all unfounded cases are false.” (Emphasis mine)

It’s time to end this now. If we want the outside world to know that bsdm doesn’t equal abuse, then we need to make sure that’s true to the best of our ability. I’m thrilled that I’ve seen signs of people waking up and speaking out. But we still have a long way to go.

Are you an activist or an enabler?

______________________________________________________________________________

Kitty Stryker has been tackling the topic:
Safe/Ward: A What You Can Do Guide

Safe/Ward Blog Carnival (trigger warning) This link will lead you to a cornucopia of blog posts by kinkster women who have been violated at some point or another, often not speaking out until years later.

If you’ve been subjected to assault or abuse, RAINN is a good resource for information. I found that even being at a sex party didn’t make the professional counselors I went to dismiss what happened to me. (I tried coping for 2-3 months on my own because I was afraid I’d be blamed.) I’m sure a few asshole therapists out there would blame the victim, but most professionals do not.

I’m one of those kinksters who will lend an ear to any survivor who needs to talk. There are a few more out there. Let’s make THOSE voices the ones that are heard.