Archive for the 'trust' 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.

Bullshit, Part II

Published on November 22, 2011 in anger, anxiety, assault, consent, recovery, stupid people, trauma, trust, Uncategorized and venting. 3 Comments

On the other end of the irritating spectrum is the fact that the guy who sexually assaulted me is still denying it. (Description here, despite his trying to claim I deleted it off my blog.) I wrote about my situation, not naming him of course, on Good Vibrations’ blog because I think more discussion needs to happen around non-consensual acts in a community that prides itself on consent. He commented (outing himself!?) denying that anything non-consensual happened. GV got nervous, so I offered to re-write the post. The original can now be found on Kitty Stryker’s blog. He also tried to leave a comment here, but I don’t feel I owe this man any airtime in my space.

It’s disgusting that this man still refuses to take responsibility for his actions. I feel certain that there could be clear video and audio footage of the incident – of me telling him to take the speculum out because it hurt and his continuing to hurt me instead – and he’d still deny responsibility. I don’t expect any different from him, but he should realize that he’s not going to shut me up about what I KNOW happened.

It’s also disgusting that it seems the organizers of the Geeky Kink Event told him that I sent them information on him. Hey, it was within their rights to decide to keep him teaching a class, but to tell him that his victim reported him? What the fuck? They could have very well put me in danger. So far harassing comments denying his responsibility are all that he’s done, but they didn’t know what might happen. I’m still waiting for an explanation for this. MasterDoc contacted them and so far they don’t seem to have anything to say for themselves.

I’m refraining from naming the con that approached me discreetly and respectfully earlier this year and decided to ban the asshole. Hopefully it drives him nuts to not know who will be denying his application to teach next year. I had hoped that maybe people were becoming more concerned with consent and better able to handle complaints since things were handled so beautifully with this con. Unfortunately, it seems I can be sure of that with only one grouping. As for the Geeky Kink Event, if you’re a survivor don’t approach them as they clearly won’t honor your privacy one iota (nor worry about your safety). And if the guy who assaulted me is to be believed, apparently they feel qualified to decide if I was assaulted or not.

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.)

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.

Perving Time, Dear Readers

Published on July 28, 2011 in bdsm, D/s, embarrassment, emotions, forced orgasm, happy, humiliation play, kink, masochism, masturbation, orgasm denial, orgasm on command, piss play, sadism, sex, sex toys, submissive, trust and Uncategorized. 0 Comments

Finally, I’m going to write about hot sex! Get your lube and sex toys ready because this could be quite enjoyable. If you’re a perv, that is.

It’s funny how in a long-term relationship things can ebb and flow a bit. For a short while (a matter of weeks really) I felt a bit like I wasn’t quite in sync with MasterDoc sexually. Granted, my “not quite in sync” is still far better sex than most people have. He seemed less domly in nature for a bit, these things happen, but last night he was in an appropriately dominant and nasty mood. And it was like we were never out of sync.

I have a wonderful Dom, he listens when I mention things. I’ve mentioned recently really wanting to be actively touched (I like touching him too, but something about his hands moving over my body is awesome) and he touched me a hell of a lot last night. We had been together on the bed for a short while before his touch was driving me crazy. “That’s it. Think yourself wet,” he said. I could feel my hips bucking as if they were trying to reach for the nearest cock.

He’d stroke my face. He stroked my arms. And soon I was twitching uncontrollably. I can’t recall if he made me come with just words and non-genital touching, or if he decided to fuck me first.

He fucked me on my back, a position that we’ve come to really enjoy now that we’ve both lost some weight. He didn’t put it in right away, he had to tease me by rubbing his cock up and down my pussy. I was so close to verbally begging for his cock. I was already begging for it with my body language. He seemed to tease me much longer than usual. I wanted him so badly! Finally he fucked me, and I was well off on the journey to an orgasm. I tried to be good and hold off coming, but he kept pushing me, fucking me harder. I held out for a while (because, honestly it feels good to linger on the edge for a while), but he pushed me to the point where I couldn’t stop it. He seems to push me a lot lately with orgasms. Him exhausting me by forcing me to orgasm for long periods of time is becoming de rigeur. No, I am not complaining one bit.

I can’t recall if he slapped my face then, but at some point in the evening he slapped my face as I came. Him exerting power over me made me come even harder. I do know that at that point he grabbed onto and cradled my neck as my upper body moved forward during orgasm. It was an amazing feeling to clutch his bicep as that arm held me, him holding me to his chest so that my nose was buried in his chest hair and body scent. It felt like he was so strong and I was so taken care of, and taken over. His cock has been remaining hard lately even against my contracting vaginal muscles. So I get to feel his big cock sliding in and out of me while I come, not just leading up to it. I swear, my head will explode from this one of these days.

We took a break. He told me I could take my collar off, but I asked to keep it on. I was enjoying subspace and wanted to stay there. He let me keep it on, and somehow I managed to slip in a slightly sarcastic joke about how hard MasterDoc’s life is – i.e., He’ll manage somehow as I be subservient and helpful to him.

He watched some of the Yankee game as we both got ourselves desserts. (Yes, Doms can do things for themselves.) After a bit, he asked if I wanted more sex or not. “I’d like more, but I could be just as happy if we didn’t.”

He then gave me the two options of “no more sex tonight” or “I’ll piss on you and then take you into the bedroom and fuck you.” He was a little surprised that I chose the latter. The whole pee thing is such a mixed bunch of emotions for me. I hate the act, it’s terribly humiliating even if it’s just him and I in the bathroom. But I need him to sometimes make me do things he likes and I hate, because in the making me do it, I feel so submissive. The things we do put me into different headspace. It may seem like torture to a regular person, but for me it makes chemicals in my brain do amazing things. I can get such calm, and an almost meditative state from it. And there is a part of me, which despite my laziness and inclination towards egalitarianism outside of D/s, likes to take care of him. To fawn over him a bit. I stood over his bath last night before we fooled around, constantly adjusting the temperature so it would be just how he likes it. I told him I felt like an English butler. And there certainly is overlap in the duties of a submissive and a butler.

But the poor butler doesn’t get fucked to wild orgasms.

Back to our evening. MasterDoc was drinking water and hoping he’d be able to pee soon. I took that time to play games on my phone and generally distract myself from what was going to happen. He lamented, “The tribulations of a Dom! I’m planning to pee on you but then my cock gets hard thinking about it and I can’t pee with a hard cock!” (His life is so rough, I know.) He took me into the bedroom first and fucked me. I was thrilled about that. I love his cock! Plus a part of me hoped it would help him forget the whole peeing on me thing. Needless to say, I came a whole bunch again. He really worked at getting me highly aroused.

After some recovery from the coming – seriously folks, my body was tired - he ordered me into the bathroom. Urgh. I put on the knee pads and sat on the toilet lid waiting for him. I felt like it was diabolically ingenious for him to send me there to wait so I could stare at the tub and know what was going to be done to me shortly in there.

When he came in, he explained that this is the way it would work for the evening – he had put a condom on, he planned to piss in it and rub it against me, and I knew instinctively that he would pour it on me eventually. Or perhaps he mentioned it, I’m not sure. I burned with embarrassment. Just the idea of the humiliation of him rubbing his piss filled condom on me made me turn my head to the wall, quite involuntarily. I felt honest to goodness humiliation. I switched on my siri vibe when he told me to, and started playing with myself.

He started pissing and I closed my eyes as I often do, but he ordered me to look at the condom as he filled it. He rubbed it on my tits, and told me to suck on the condom a bit. Again, more humiliation, plus some disgust. I could smell the piss through the condom and made sure not to suck too hard on it lest it break.

And I suppose the most humiliating thing was the fact that with the help of my vibe (and being highly aroused already from the sex we had) I came when he told me to, and he laughed a bit as I continued to burn with humiliation while coming. He poured the contents of the condom over my breasts. I think he may have pissed directly on me too, but I was too deep in subspace to quite know what was going on.

Immediately after, I felt like a hungover person suddenly opening their eyes to find the aftermath of the party they had last night. You look around, feel confused about where you are for a moment, then things start to come into focus. Aftercare was definitely in order, but there was the little matter of being covered in piss. I showered off, and he met me in the bedroom.

Cuddling led to more orgasms. His touch feels amazing to me. He can make me come so easily. It really is astounding. I feel almost like it’s a magic trick we do. “Abra-cadabra! Watch this lady orgasm from my hand resting on her shoulder!” At some point he said, “I think you’ve had enough young lady,” as I was clearly getting aroused yet again. But I explained him that, indeed, I had had plenty of orgasms and I was just enjoying how wonderful it felt for him to touch me. Reaching an orgasm from it wasn’t the goal, even if I was twitching like I do on the way there.

What’s Up?

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

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

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

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

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

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

___________________________________

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

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

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

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

MasterDoc, the Cure for What Ails Me

Published on April 25, 2011 in anxiety, bdsm, bondage, caning, crazy, D/s, derangement, dom, emotions, forced orgasm, gags, kink, libido, masochism, neurosis, restraints, sex, sex parties, shio, spanking, squirting, trust and Uncategorized. 0 Comments

The rest of the weekend was uneven in quality. On Friday, I hung out with Blondie in SoHo and the east Village. I had a great time but carrying a too large, too heavy purse screwed up my back. MasterDoc was planning on schtuping me that night, which hadn’t happened since the previous Monday due to various plans and time constraints. With my back bothering me so much, I wasn’t up for it. I was frustrated to no end, but I couldn’t manage the pain of the back and staying in a sex position for too long. I tried to write it off considering the next evening I was going to be his date to a kink party. DeeDee was going with her other boyfriend.

MasterDoc did massage my back (isn’t he a nice Dom?) and cuddle a little, but PMDD was setting in and I felt abandoned when, my eyes closed while resting, he left me alone in the bedroom. The madness that can come with a particularly bad bout of PMDD was strong, and I started thinking… no, I started being convinced that MasterDoc was bored with me and/or no longer attracted to me. This resulted in a heavy depression on Saturday. I took a trip downtown to get my hair cut and found myself not having any impetus afterward to do anything but wander around in the rain until I could catch the next express bus. I tried to perk up in time for the party. MasterDoc was concerned about taking me out because of the depression, and unfortunately that proved founded.

All night, somehow our wires crossed and things ended up badly. I just kept longing for him to hug me, to cuddle me, to touch me and tell me everything was all right. I wanted him to play with me since it had been a little while and reestablishing that connection would feel so good to my depressed, insecure brain. On his end, he says that I put up walls and made it impossible to connect with me. I felt like he wasn’t really trying. Oy. We did connect for just long enough for him to make me come, and squirt a little, but when he became engrossed with watching another D/s couple play, I felt ignored and threatened because the other woman had a much hotter body than me. Meanwhile MasterDoc was enjoying watching the connection of the other couple because they seemed to have the sort of unspoken connection he and I so often have.

Please allow me to say, I don’t like myself when I’m depressed. I don’t like being depressed. With many people, I can hold off on getting downright hysterical, but I think because I trust MasterDoc so much I often suddenly direct any sadness and rage at him. I hate when I do this. At the time, the idea of being no longer attractive or interesting felt entirely real to me. I’m sure anyone reading this can see that it was just the PMDD.

The following morning was tearful. But thankfully I was ultimately able to realize that he wasn’t shunning me the night before (even if that’s how I felt) and I was probably putting up walls (even if I didn’t think I was) and that we love each other very much. My intense feelings of anger and sadness came out of worrying that he didn’t want me anymore. As ridiculous as that sounds it was insanely intense.

The depression lasted the rest of the weekend, but I was able to reconnect with MasterDoc. Having him cuddle me soothed my crazy brain. He took me into the bedroom and employed playing techniques that I had been clamoring for. Like the couple we saw the prior evening, he cuffed my hands behind my back, and he used a strip of duct tape to gag me. I lay over the Liberator Axis and he gave me a good caning. My pain tolerance was lousy and I wished I could move out of the way – but with my hands behind me I couldn’t push myself up. I couldn’t even wiggle out of the way. I had to trust that he would judge the right amount of pain to induce an endorphin rush. While the caning hurt like the dickens, I think it had the right effect on my brain chemistry.

He told me to get up on hands and knees, and I mumbled through the gag that I couldn’t get on my hands with them behind my back. I was still gagged, and struggling to breathe slowly through the one clear nostril I had. (You see, if you breathe in too sharply your nasal passage narrows.) He slipped a condom on and fucked me with my arms secured behind my back. It was so worth waiting for. He fucked me long and hard. I know that phrase is totally overused but it’s the best description. He kept pounding me until I couldn’t hold back and I came. It was a magnificent orgasm, but I felt like I was suffocating and that abruptly stopped my body and compelled me to manage to move my arms around to the side just enough to rip off the duct tape. MasterDoc joked that he’s a doctor and wouldn’t let anything happen to me. If I passed out he’d be there. I know breath play can be hot but it often just makes me anxious. He understood that the anxiety was too much. He fucked me again, with my wrists released and the tape off, and that time I had every possible orgasm wrung from my body.

My depression was lifted for the entire time I was fucking and coming. Hey, how could I feel depressed mid-orgasm? (Although if it’s possible I’m sure I can do it.) After cuddles to further soothe my savage soul he had me get on top. We tried doing it with my cuffs linked but I couldn’t lean forward onto my hands and as a result my hips and thighs got such a workout that I was promptly exhausted. MasterDoc put me on the bottom, and he fucked me silly again. I’ve always loved sex with MasterDoc, but holy fuck now that he gets testosterone supplements and he’s lost some weight he can fuck harder and longer. It’s wonderfully bewildering to have a Dom in his mid-50′s fuck better than guys half his age.

I felt better having reconnected and gotten fucked. My hormones still raged and I found myself feeling teary, but thankfully I was no longer aiming my mad and sad feelings at MasterDoc. (He should be made the first Jewish saint for dealing with my anger when I’m depressed. It hurts him, even if he knows it’s just the chemical imbalance talking.) Feeling his skin pressed against me is soothing. While he can’t magically cure my PMDD, he has the capacity to make it better, even if only for a little while.

Heh. Saint MasterDoc, patron saint of wayward women. (By the way, I managed to leave out of the flow of the story that I blew him for a while, and then later in the evening I helped him come with prostate massage. So my Sir did get direct appreciation shown for him putting up with me.)

Endlessly Horny Slut

Published on November 17, 2010 in anal, analingus, bdsm, D/s, edge play, embarrassment, happy, horny, humiliation play, kink, libido, masturbation, orgasm denial, orgasm on command, piss play, porn, prostate massage, sadism, sex, sex toys, shio, slut, squirting, submissive, trust, Uncategorized and wax play. 0 Comments

I often think that time spent alone with MasterDoc in sexual situations can’t get any better. And then they do.

Early in the evening he was talking about how he canceled an “orgasm on command” demonstration he was planning at a party we’re going to Friday. I spoke up, saying that I really think it wouldn’t be a problem him making me come with just a touch and a word – even in front of an audience. He turned towards me on the sofa and said, “Oh really?” His hand caressed my face and he twined his fingers in my hair. “So you think you could come just from my command?” I was twitching a little and breathing heavy by this time and I answered, “Yes, Sir.”

“Then you can come.” The full-body cascade came over me and my left hand shot out and impotently grabbed at his nearest thigh. I was still dressed in my work clothes, and we hadn’t any foreplay whatsoever. Even as he gave me the command a small part of me doubted I could come, but I am so conditioned now that not coming wasn’t an option. Thankfully I didn’t squirt in my work pants (although many of you pervs out there would have loved reading about that!).

A phone call came in for him immediately after, and I caught my breath, stunned, while he spoke on the phone.

Later, after we had both had dinner, bathed and gotten ready for sex, I put on a video from theupperfloor.com. (Thanks again to the person who shared their password with me! Hawt stuff!) He had me plug in the HDMI cable so we could see the porn on the big screen tv. Just watching the goings on of training the house slaves got me so hot. We both loved a scene where Cherry Torn had a knife handle (dinner knife) slid up her ass, and then the magic wand was vibrated against the part sticking out. I thought to myself that it would be super hot for me to disappear to the kitchen and return with a table knife, but something in me prevented me from just doing that. I really need to be more proactive.

He had told me minutes before to get an ass toy that he could use to warm up my ass. Earlier I had pointed out it was a long time since we had anal sex, and he took that under consideration. I returned with an ass toy – silicone, sorta rippled, with a handle to press against the perineum.

With lube and toy in hand he had me get on hands and knees. I leaned against the sofa arm. He worked the toy into my ass and I was moaning before much really started. The idea of him violating my ass was just too, too hot. I wasn’t quite sure what was going on at various times, but fuck, it felt good. He teased me and my whole body tingled with excitement. Satisfied that he had heated me up, we adjourned to the bedroom with the porn.

I’ve been feeling extremely horny and slutty in recent days. I’m sure many of you are saying in disbelief, “Only in recent days?!” Since the feeling of shift I wrote about last week, I’ve felt like some blocks about doing things MasterDoc wants me to do are starting to disappear. (Not all of them sadly, but a few key ones.) On some levels, I live for pleasing him. I’m starting to fantasize about him doing things I formerly thought of as hard limits.

In the bedroom, he told me to get a toy that’s larger than the first one for preparing my ass for fucking. I used a slender, red-sparkle silicone dildo to work my ass and soon I was fucking myself with it like a bitch in heat. He really enjoyed watching this and let me come after a while.

He was ready to fuck my ass himself, and we tried to figure out the best position. Unfortunately this hesitation led to difficulties getting it in (a cock needs to be super hard for anal) so we took a break. (Note to gentlemen of a certain age: As this entry will demonstrate, you can still satisfy and drive a woman wild even if your cock isn’t cooperating. Seriously, as much as I love cock it is not the only thing that will get me off/make me happy.)

He made me come a ton of times via command and molesting my body. He decided that it would help him get hard for me to lick his ass. Normally I’d have been hesitant to get there, but that block I mentioned that seems to have moved? I didn’t really have a problem getting my tongue into his asshole as best I could. I really tried very hard to make him feel good. I’m enjoying more and more feeling like he’s in control and that makes it easier to do things I don’t like to do. By verbal command, he made me come TWICE while I licked his ass. As I started to come the first time I thought to myself, “Damn you!” because of the embarrassment of orgasming while my tongue was on his asshole.

At this point, is there anything this man can’t do to make me come?

During one of our interludes (while I tried to recover from so many orgasms), he declared that everything points to enforced exercise. Fuuuuuck! He’s decided that if I do squats I’m allowed to come when I can. He emphasized that the point wasn’t doing squats until I’m sore and exhausted, just a few until I can manage to come knowing he’s given me permission to come. I cringe at the very idea of coming from exercise. But if anyone can make me do it, he can. We shall see.

We fooled around for two hours or so, and a couple of times he kept making me come long past the point where I thought I could. In my exhaustion, I nearly begged him to stop. Nearly. I’m digging this forced orgasms thing though.

His cock cooperated towards the end of the evening, and he fucked me up the ass. I didn’t hear him give me permission to come so I rode the edge the entire time. It felt pretty damn amazing. (Note to Doms: Please give commands to come loudly and clearly, because if the sub has to ask, “What did you say, Sir?” it decreases the arousal just enough to limit the ensuing orgasm.)

More porn was watched. I fantasized about him pissing in my mouth as he went off to use the bathroom. I started masturbating before he came back. Since it seemed pretty clear we were “done” as far as getting me off, I considered my clit tickling to be masturbation and came at will. He joined me again on the bed, and a few moments later told me to come after I had already started, and I just kept coming and coming. I had squirted even before he gave me the command to come. It’s amazing how fast I can rub my clit when I’m aroused.

He wanted a prostate massage, so I worked his ass over for a while. I was really getting into it. We heard DeeDee come in during this, and MasterDoc decided to delay his orgasm. We said hello to DeeDee, heard about her date, and I voiced a need for cuddles and aftercare.

We cuddled. And just being close to him turns me on so very much. It gives me a helpless feeling, the way I get wildly aroused around him. Soon I was licking his “spot” and realizing that indeed, “spot worship” has become a fetish for me. Yes, I will admit, the middle of his hairy chest turns me on. I talked about how I would love for him to come in my mouth and then I’d play with rubbing his come all over my chest. The fantasy was so strong! It wasn’t in the cards though.

He still wanted to come so he had me help by giving him an ass massage as he jerked off. I tried my best to tune in and notice his reactions. To press firmly against his asshole and perineum in a way that would feel good. My fingers made him twitch for a while after he had shot his load. Even though I was tired by this point, my submissive nature helped me focus and enjoy making him come. Even though there were so many delicious orgasms last night, I wanted to be his endlessly horny slut. I’d certainly stop playing when he asked me to, but I aimed to be eager and ready at all times. Accomplishing this wasn’t too hard.

Is it any wonder I hesitate to try to fuck another guy? Without MasterDoc taking control how can another guy fucking me be anywhere near as hot as when I fuck MasterDoc? But if he told me to fuck a roomful of strangers it would be the hottest thing ever, and I would do it under his watchful eye. I am his slut. There is no denying that.

The Next Steps?

Published on November 11, 2010 in analingus, bdsm, bondage, D/s, dom, emotions, gang bang, humiliation play, kink, masochism, musings, piss play, restraints, sex parties, submissive, swinging, trust, Uncategorized and wishing box. 1 Comment

As my D/s relationship with MasterDoc develops, the focus can change over time. When I first met him of course the focus was teaching me precisely how he likes to be pleasured, getting me to remember to say “Sir,” and training my ability to come at his command. On the service side of things he taught me what chores he wants me to do, and how to prepare things how he likes them, etc.

Recently I’ve felt like there’s a shift – the shift hasn’t happened just yet but it feels like a new phase of our relationship is ready to begin. I’ve been contemplating for at least a week now telling him that if he wants me to lick his ass, then I would respect him even more if he made me do it despite my dislike of the activity. I think I’m at the point now where him making me do a few things I dislike (but know full well won’t harm me) is the way to go. Not so much to exercise power, but I think he, as the Dom, should feel free to engage in whatever experiences he would like to – and not give as much concern over what I like to do.* Of course, I’ve hesitated to say anything because I’m worried this is a case of “be careful of what you wish for!” But I feel like I need to take another step into being his submissive on perhaps a deeper level than before. We’re at a point where if he makes me lick his ass I’m not going to consider leaving him. If he pisses in my mouth I’m not going to leave him. I don’t like these activities and hope they don’t become frequent, but I feel like if he’s the Dom then he should use me as he likes.

We’ve watched a lot of porn on theupperfloor.com lately and it’s been giving him all sorts of ideas. The forced exercise I found too painful to watch. I hate exercise but can handle it better if I’m doing it by myself and of my own volition. But the scene where the slave was hooded (and therefore couldn’t see) and forced to scrub the floor while the dominant whipped or fingered her – that was damn hot. Just scrubbing a floor isn’t hot to me. But being in some sort of bondage/blindfolding/gagging and being watched over by the man who delivers such delicious torment to me, that would be hot.

The Upper Floor has also made me crave kinky parties where I could serve and be toyed with by the guests freely. Not only toyed with but perhaps also gang-banged.

MasterDoc and I talked briefly about the idea of things like positions the sub needs to learn and use in certain situations. He was never into that, but I’ve been curious about it and now feels like a time to maybe delve into some of that, to maybe have a little more protocol than we currently have? (We’ve never been big on protocol other than calling him Sir and being respectful and obedient.) I’m also wishing for more bondage in my life.

All this is dependent on what MasterDoc wants and thinks is right. I’m merely expressing my willingness and desire to go a little further into submission and service to him. I feel like I need to be pushed a little.

* This meaning that of course I hope my needs will still be met, but I think he should feel more latitude in making me satisfy his needs even if I find an act distasteful.