DeeDee had a date one evening this past week, and I got to spend time alone with MasterDoc. I was feeling extremely submissive and I’ll bet he picked up on that. While we sat on the couch, moving towards having sex, he made me lick his ass. I’m getting more and more used to it, even though I still don’t like doing it, and I did good job rimming him.
In the bedroom, I cuddled with him and stroked his body. He sounded like he was going to come various times and I was concerned by my usual being left out/not getting to come fears. But this time I told myself, “He always takes care of me, I should just trust that he will.” And so I kept writhing against him, touching his body – ass, back, arms, neck, groin. I breathed heavy into his ear as I pressed my body to his.
He did come from my touches and him stroking his cock. He shot pretty far on the bed. He had me clean up and then we had dessert. I was yearning for sexual attention, but I behaved myself.
I asked if I could lay down – mainly to rest and relax but I was also hoping he’d start playing with my body. He did. He played with my pussy til I was breathing heavy and close to coming. They were delicate touches but his touch makes me tingle. He teased me a bit and I must have had such a set of blue balls – metaphorically speaking. He told me to come and come I did. He would let me rest slightly then amp up the sensation to make me come again. I would think to myself, “I’m done,” but then he would make me come again. I grabbed hold of his arm as I came, thrashing about.
Post orgasm I lay there fantasizing about him grabbing the Randy (which I won recently on twitter from Vixen Creations, mine’s “vanilla” flesh-colored rather than the black one on Babeland’s site) and telling me it’s time we see if we can fit it in my cunt. Rowr. I kept tormenting myself with more sexy thoughts.
He turned to me in middle of cuddling and asked if I wanted him to pee on me – not willing to do it but wanted . I couldn’t reply. Part of me wanted it and the other part of me was horrified that I wanted it. He seemed to back off, but I kept thinking that it would be hot for him to make me do something I hate – and it’s not that the act is hot for me. Being pissed on in and of itself isn’t erotic for me, but him grabbing me by the hair taking me down the hall to the bathroom, barking an order for me to kneel in the tub…. and then he pisses on me, in my ass, in my mouth – the last one being terribly forced. I don’t want him to piss in my mouth, but I do want to feel like he owns me and will do it if it pleases him. Does that make sense? Ultimately though, the fooling around was over for the evening.
This Lady Gaga song inspired me to write a bit of erotica for a change. The video has nothing to do with my fantasy, but I love it all the same for being totally campy and sexy at the same time.
This is some pretty kinky shit, but if you read here regularly you should realize the kinds of things that are talked about on this blog. And without further ado: “Show Me Your Teeth.”
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She had dared him to go further than before. The butterflies tickled her stomach as she wondered if she could handle what he was going to dish out.
She had shared some of her darkest fantasies with him – the ones where she’s tied up helpless, the ravishment fantasies, the ones where he does things to her she likes to think she doesn’t want. But at the same time becoming his slut entirely turns her on immensely and she hopes that her gentle teasing has gotten him worked up enough to really push her limits this time.
She had spent some time reassuring him that she was ready for this. She wanted him to reach down and find those dark places of his soul and utilize them so they could both fulfill the twisted fantasies that brought them together.
He put her collar around her neck, and while he usually wasn’t big on protocol, he ordered her to kneel before him, forehead touching the floor. She did as she was told and steeled herself for what she hoped would be a bumpy ride.
He placed his foot on her head, holding it down.
“Are you sure you’re ready slut?” he asked her.
“Yes, Sir,” she replied immediately. She could feel her cunt begin to get wet. He removed his foot from her head and had her sit up. He sat on the sofa across from her spot on the floor and looked into her eyes.
“You are going to do everything I tell you tonight without question. I am going to take you to a place of humiliation and submission that you’ve never been to before.” She took a deep breath at this. “Go get the behind the back restraints.”
She was thrilled he asked for those – she had always hoped they’d use them again. Just having them on made her hot. When she returned to the room with the restraints, he stood up and put them on her. He buckled the collar, then buckled each wrist into their respective cuffs. She straightened up, and in this position her full breasts stood out. He took a hunk of her hair in his hand and shook her head around a little. She closed her eyes in a bit of a swoon. While her eyes were closed, he raised his hand and slapped her across the face a few times, each time a little harder than the first. When she opened her eyes he looked at her intently.
“I’ll be back in a moment. I expect you to stand at attention for me right here, understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
She could feel every inch of her skin thrum as she heard him go off into the bedroom where the toys were kept. She tried to figure out what he was getting by the noises, but she couldn’t be certain. There was a chain noise and otherwise the noises were indistinguishable.
He came up behind her and placed a blindfold over her eyes. Now she was helpless and unable to see. He started to pull something else over her face, and she soon realized it was the muzzle. Her helplessness increased with not being able to communicate easily. He tweaked a nipple and she practically gushed wetness knowing that she was at his mercy. A chain rattled. She tried to discern if it was a leash or not. As he started pulling at her nipples, making them stand out, she realized that the chain must be one that connects two nipple clamps. The question was, which ones?
He slowly released the clamp onto one nipple. As it continued to bite and bite she knew it must be the clover clamps. She took deep breaths through her nose to cope with the pain. Clover clamps weren’t something she’d grown accustomed to just yet.
“Take the pain for me slut,” he said as he tugged lightly on the clamp to make sure it was on securely. She whimpered and he stroked the side of her face. “Breathe deeply. That’s it.”
He went for the other nipple and soon the other clamp was biting into her flesh. On the one hand, she wondered if she could stand the pain, on the other, her cunt felt like it was on fire. He pulled a little on the chain and she whimpered loudly. She moved her hands instinctively but of course found them to be secured behind her back, where they couldn’t do her any good.
He helped her balance as she was lowered onto her knees on the floor. Her senses were flooded with the pain, and the feel of his hand on her shoulders, and the anticipation of what might come next. He removed the muzzle. “You’re not to speak unless spoken too, understand cunt?”
“Yes, Sir,” she replied.
She heard him unzip his pants and he took his semi-hard cock out and slapped her on the face a few times. “You’re my cock-sucking whore,” he said, “You’re my piss-drinking whore. You’re my ass-licking whore. Open your mouth.” He put his cock in and she hoped that he was too hard to piss in her mouth. Anyway, he wasn’t likely to do it in the living room where there would be a mess if she failed to catch every drop.
She sucked, having a hard time keeping his ever-hardening cock in her mouth without the use of her hands. He grabbed the back of her head, and pulled her face right into his crotch. She tried to breathe through her nose while he gagged her on his cock, but soon she was sputtering and dripping drool down her chest. “Again, whore,” he said as he pushed his cock into her mouth and straight to the back of her throat again. He fucked her mouth hard and drool ran down her chin. Snot started to flow out of her nose and she was sure her makeup would be moist and messed up under the blindfold. He choked her repeatedly on his large cock, and then pulled her head back by the hair and slapped her face a few times. She could feel her sense of will melting as she became nothing more than his whore. She wanted him to hurt her. She wanted him to use her.
He reached down and slowly removed the clover clamps. She cried out as they came off and the blood painfully rushed back into each nipple. He slapped her for making noise and put the muzzle back over her mouth. “Get up,” he said and he helped her to her feet as she couldn’t hold her balance with her arms behind her. He undid the restraints and she rolled her shoulders to ease the soreness in them. She could hear and feel a leash hook onto her collar and he led her, still blindfolded, into the bedroom. He had her kneel on the bed, head down, ass in the air. Without warm up, he caned her a few swift times. She cried out under her muzzle.
Next this cold and slick fingers were pushing into her ass, lubing her up. She could feel the cold steel butt plug as he stroked it teasingly around her asshole. He pushed, and it slid in, filling her up. With his other hand, he checked between her pussy lips. “You’re a wet little slut, aren’t you?” She could hear the wet noises as he slapped her pussy. He slid a finger inside and wiggled it around just a little bit. She moaned and pushed back onto his hand.
He laughed.
“Not yet slut.”
He removed the muzzle and the blindfold, and slid his finger, slick with her juices, into her mouth. She obediently sucked his finger clean. As he pulled away momentarily, her eyes blinked, adjusting to the light in the room. She could still feel the heavy steel plug in her ass. He told her to lay down on her stomach and rest for a moment. He gathered up more toys.
He lay down next to her on the bed and she pulled herself close to his chest. She wanted him so badly that she started to lick his chest and massage it with her fingers. He let her do this for a moment, and lay back to enjoy her attentions.
His cock was hard again when he had her stop and lay on her stomach. She felt the cold swipe of an alcohol wipe on each ass cheek. This could only mean one thing – needles. Her ass chilled as the alcohol evaporated from her skin. She listened to him unwrap a couple of needles. He grabbed one ass cheek and slid a needle into her flesh, the needle exiting out a short distance later. She took a deep breath and her body soon flooded with endorphins. He stuck her again, on the other side this time, and again she was flying high on her body’s own natural drug. She was blissfully in subspace. Her will had dropped completely, and she only wanted to do whatever he wanted her to do. He let her lie there and enjoy the rush for a few minutes. He knew, however, that this was the ideal time to really push her limits.
After removing each needle, he asked her if she was able to stand. “I think so, Sir,” she replied and unsteadily sat up on the bed. He looked into her eyes, leaned forward, and kissed her deeply.
“You’re a good girl. Now let’s see if you’re as obedient as I expect you to be tonight.”
He led her into the bathroom, and she knew this meant piss play. She always had such mixed feelings about piss play. On the one hand it was degrading and gross. On the other hand, she relished him putting her into that mental space. It wasn’t that she thought she was worthless, it was just that him making her feel dirty and under his control gave her such a high.
He had her kneel in the cold tub. Would he just pee on her, or would this be the time he finally followed through with his threat and peed in her mouth? He removed her collar, “just for practicality’s sake.” She knew that even without that symbol around her neck she was expected to obey.
“Are you my obedient slut?”
“Yes, Sir. I’m your obedient slut.”
He made sure to look into her eyes as he spoke. “I expect you to prove that now to me. This next part can be as easy or difficult as you make it. I expect you to try your hardest to please me.”
She could feel herself shake a little. This was it. This was when he followed through on the months of threats. God, would she be able to stand the taste of piss in her mouth? Would it totally freak her out? Thankfully the endorphins from earlier were still flowing and she felt a rush when faced with the challenge of doing that which she found totally repulsive. He stepped as close to the tub as he could, and took his mostly soft cock into his hand. He took hold of her hair with the other hand. “Open your mouth.”
She did as she was told, with only a slight hesitation. She closed her eyes tight, but he wasn’t having that. “Look at me, bitch!” She opened up her eyes and looked up at him, standing over her like some sort of powerful god. He wanted to see her eyes as he did this. He wanted to watch the struggle as it unfolded in her head and showed in her eyes.
With her mouth wide open, and eyes wide open as well, she felt the first hot drops of piss land on her tongue. A panic came over her, but she steadied herself and let it flow into her mouth. He relished the look in her eyes. It was a look of panic and disgust, but she held herself still as he pissed into her mouth. He felt powerful knowing that he could make her do this.
“Swallow as much as you can, cunt.”
She gagged as she swallowed but she kept coming back for more because more than anything else she wanted to please him. She wanted to show her devotion by letting him use her however he wanted. When she’d gag and cough a little he ended up pissing on her face and into her hair. A few tears escaped the corners of her eyes. He took hold of her hair more tightly and continued to let go a long stream of piss into her mouth.
“Hold it in your mouth a moment. Show me.”
She knew he meant the piss and, struggling against all sorts of forces within her, she held a pool of it in her mouth, revolted by the taste. He looked into her eyes.
“Now swallow cunt.” She did and collapsed in the tub, crying. To an outsider, she seemed broken and devastated. But she felt a certain freedom in having let go of her inhibitions so. He let her collapse, but he continued pissing onto her body. “You’re my filthy, piss-drinking slut. One of these days I’ll do this with a whole crowd of men to watch. Then I’ll have them piss all over you as well. You’ll reek of piss and they will be amazed at how much you’re my whore.” He finished pissing on her.
“Clean up,” he said as he left the room. She slowly gathered her wits. She felt emptied out inside, like all her worries no longer had a space within her. Somehow she felt baptized, new. She adjusted the water in the tub and began rinsing herself off. She took handfuls of water into her mouth and rinsed it out as best she could. She had to wash her hair as he had pissed there as well.
She dried off. She put her collar back on and went to find Sir. Her damp hair hung limply and clung to her face. She had forgotten temporarily about the plug in her ass.
She found him in the living room and she asked his permission to use the toilet. He didn’t grant it right away but made her sit on the floor at his feet. The fullness of her bladder added to her arousal in some strange way. Still, she was becoming desperate to use the bathroom.
He lifted her chin and she had a hard time looking at him. “You’re a good girl,” he said. She let out a deep breath and focused her eyes on him. “You can go use the bathroom now.”
She paused for a moment, wanting to ask if she could remove the plug from her ass, but then she remembered that she wasn’t to speak unless spoken to. Thankfully, he noticed the conflicted look on her face and he asked her what she was thinking.
“May I please remove the plug from my ass, Sir?”
He laughed a little. “I had forgotten it was in there. Yes, you may remove it. Now go use the bathroom and meet me in the bedroom after.”
He handed her the ball gag when she arrived. She put it on and he had her get on hands and knees on the bed again. He stroked his hard cock and put a condom on it.
He pulled her ass apart and could see the slick, shaved lips of her cunt. She was remarkably wet. He slid his cock into her and fucked her slowly. Her muffled moans turned him on more, and he felt a sense of ownership over her. She moaned and pushed her hips back to sink his cock as deeply as she could. His cock stayed completely rigid as he fucked her. Her moans became louder through the gag. She could come at any second, he only had to give the word. But he was enjoying teasing her and he pounded her cunt a little with his cock, listening to the desperation grow in her moans.
Finally, he thrust his cock as deep inside her as he could and told her to come. His entire body trembled and he could feel her cunt convulse around his cock. She made a remarkable amount of noise for someone who was gagged. As she came, he felt his own arousal peak and shot forth a wad of hot come. He groaned and twitched as her pussy continued milking his cock as she came. He felt his balls suddenly drenched as she squirted. He smiled.
As they both lay limp on the bed after, he put his mouth to hear ear and said, “I’m very proud of you cunt.” She glowed from within from his compliment.
I’ve spent plenty of time the last two months bitching about struggling through PMS. I’m happy to say this month is better, but even though it seems like all is well, I can tell that in a way my mood has gone a bit manic this time. I’m not bipolar, but I think even in regular depression sometimes your mood will swing the other way – just far less often than a person with bipolar might experience. I find myself giddy this month, googly-eyed lovey, eager to do things. I went for an hour long walk today. I never do that! So while the symptoms this month could be described as “positive” I think it’s just another side of the coin from the “negative” symptoms of the past few months. I’m out of balance emotionally like I am every month, it’s just that this month seems more positive.
Last night I had a wonderful night out with MasterDoc. My giddy, lovey mood made me really appreciate how happy I am with him. I really got into our dynamic and realized how fulfilling it is for me. It’s funny, because I constantly struggle with two different desires – there’s a part of me that’s independent and wants to make my own damn decisions but there’s another part of me that wants nothing more than for him to have control. These two parts sometimes conflict. A part of me says that I shouldn’t just let someone else control me like he does, but then I am so turned on and so happy when he does take control.
When we arrived at the swing club, he poured us some water since the bartender wasn’t around. I had said I was thirsty and I couldn’t wait until the water was poured. But, rather than hand it to me, he took a drink first. I wanted to say something as I was so thirsty, but the look he gave me said it all. “I want to make sure you remember your place,” he said to me. I went weak in the knees.
All last night, I found that being his slut was hotter than anything else. I realized that while we do sometimes like swinging with others, there are times like last night where the real kink being satisfied out at the swing club is that I’m his whore, and he gets to show off just what I will do for him. He gets to talk to me like I’m a dirty slut in front of everyone and I don’t object but instead am obviously turned on. I follow his command without hesitation or argument when he tells me to suck his cock, or take my clothes off, or come.
I have moments when I worry that some people are judging me for being such a whore. But then I get so turned on by it that I forget to feel embarrassed. While some might judge me, I think that most people find how I am to be phenomenally hot. The single men at the club are all eager to talk to us in the hopes of joining in. I’m not gorgeous, I’m fat and flabby, but I am a sex goddess there. And I am his. He gets to be the guy who has control over this nymph who wants to fuck and fuck and fuck. (And the reason I want to fuck and fuck and fuck is because I’m so fucking turned on by him.) We’re parts of a whole. It’s a dynamic. I give up control, he takes control and we’re both happy in those states.
Just when I thought I was tired from coming, I’d look into his eyes again and I’d start breathing shallowly and I’d ache for him to touch me and make me come. He can make me come without even touching any of the typical erogenous zones. For me, the hottest part of sex is the mind-fuck, the control. While the stimulation of my pussy is wonderful, the fact that he controls when I come makes the fucking amazingly more intense. I realized last night that being submissive and kinky really are integral parts of my personality. As my Dom, he fulfills me so much that I am willing to struggle with insecurity and jealousy because sharing him with others is still way better than not having him in my life. I think I’m also starting to grow more secure. I’ve been making a concerted effort to focus on the positive and I have started noticing things I’d ignore before in favor of dwelling on the negative. I noticed last night, truly noticed and internalized, how much he enjoys being with me. And I’m starting to see that his wanting to spend time with others doesn’t diminish that. Since I’ve grown so very fond of DeeDee, I can totally see why he wants to spend time with her. And that makes it easier to go busy myself with something else when they want time alone. (She does the same for me.)
Is this a breakthrough or just the hyper-happiness of PMS? I really hope it’s the former.
Unlike most entries I’m not really telling the story of what sex acts we did last night. It just doesn’t seem as interesting to me as capturing what goes on mentally. He made me suck his cock and he choked me on it in front of everyone. He fingered me to orgasm in front of an audience, he made me come by just stroking my legs, butt, hip and breasts. He made me come over and over, uncontrollably. I squirted a huge puddle a couple of times. He fucked me hard and spanked me with the hard wooden paddle. He let some random guy eat me out, and I didn’t so much come from his abilities (which were ok but not great) but I came from knowing I was doing it because I’m MasterDoc’s slut. He made me come with my pants on just by grabbing my hair and talking dirty to me. I was so afraid I’d squirt in my pants!
I just kept thinking about how I’m really his whore and I will do nearly anything for him. That sort of power strikes me as scary at some moments, but I always come back to the key point that makes it not scary – he would never do anything to truly hurt me. He pushes my limits. He gets me to do things I thought I would never do, but he has never, not once done anything damaging to me. And even on the rare occasions where something didn’t quite work, he is fast to talk things over and make sense of what the issue was so he could avoid it in the future. Sometimes I think that it’s weird for a modern, feminist woman to be so deeply devoted to him, but I am.
The title of this entry came from MasterDoc, who of course got the line from George Orwell’s novel 1984. Near the end of the story, the main character (Winston) is locked up by the totalitarian government. They make him betray his love, Julia, by scaring him to death with something he fears the most (I want to say it was rats but I can’t recall). They make him break down and tell them that he wants them to do this horrible thing to Julia, not him. They make Winston betray her. MasterDoc has a knack for talking about something kinky and difficult and possibly painful, and he is good at making DeeDee and I encourage him to do it to the other, as long as he’s not doing it to us. He thinks this is hot. lol He really does like having power and control, doesn’t he?
I haven’t blogged in over a week, not content that I’ve generated at least. I’ve been dealing with a particularly rough bout of premenstrual symptoms and haven’t felt like writing. MasterDoc gave me a therapeutic beating last Wednesday that helped in the short term, but ultimately I was having enough internal issues that it didn’t last. Funnily enough, yesterday he and I both – separately – hypothesized that I may have PMDD (premenstrual dysphoric disorder). Definitely something I will ask my gynecologist about next time. I have about a dozen of the symptoms.
Today the symptoms are starting to break, but even yesterday I was feeling anxious and irritable enough to be struggling with it. I didn’t sleep over MasterDoc’s due to the impending snow (and I am glad I went home last night!) but I did visit him for a few hours. We reconnected. He reassured me that yes, if I’m in emotional crisis like I had been last Friday night I did the right thing by getting in touch with him.
Since my mood was still unstable last night, MasterDoc declared I needed a beating and orgasms. And indeed they helped like they usually do. After he shook off the silly mood he was in, he had me lay down on the bed, face down and took the cane to my ass. The strikes focused my thoughts. I took the cane fairly well, but then he dribbled some melted wax on me. Yikes! It pooled slightly on my lower back and I kicked one leg up while trying to deal with the pain. The wax was particularly difficult to take last night. I seem to be out of practice. The caning continued and took me into subspace. I didn’t get wet like I often do but considering how not myself I felt that’s not entirely surprising. He used the little rubber flogger on me, the little ends gathering together to sting my ass.
He had me on hands and knees for some beating, and propped the magic wand against me but it kept slipping away from the perfect spot, so even though I had permission to come I couldn’t quite get there. I let MasterDoc know that it was sliding out of place, and he took over, pressing it against my clit, making me come. He took out a toy that we haven’t really used yet: snake bite suckers. The set comes with two larger ones and one thinner sucker that’s just right for the clitoris. Thankfully he only put the larger two on my nipples. As my tits hung down he commented on how they resembled udders. He flicked them with his fingers which hurt. He has decided he really likes them, and as I can wear them longer than nipple clamps he plans to have me walking around the swing club with them on. He had me kneel up, and he tormented my nipples some more.
He had me lay on my back to be fucked so he could continue to play with the nipple suckers. He tweaked them, fucked me, slapped my face. I went from zero to sixty in about two seconds. He told me I could come at will and I came, but then I came even harder as he gently but firmly applied pressure to my throat for the first time. Previously I had been afraid of even the hint of breathplay as I’m asthmatic (and have experienced not being able to breathe. Not really fun.) but I had put in my wishing box that I was curious to try a little bit with him, since I trust MasterDoc to know what he’s doing (and to know what to do in case of an emergency). He pressed a bit harder than I had expected, grabbing my collar close against my throat. For a second, I wasn’t sure if I was scared of this…. but then I came, harder than I had to this point. I was amazed by how hard I came.
I was very, very happy and calm after that.
He next had me suck his cock, and he worked in yet another wish from my wishing box: grabbing my head and choking me on his cock a few times. I find that I don’t gag as badly as I initially thought and I really like that he’s got his cock shoved down my throat and his hand firmly on my head as the thrusts his hips upward. His cock gets extra slick with my saliva which makes it even easier than usual to suck. He had me rub his wet cock over my face and I did as I was told. (Of course.)
His cock hard again, he debated fucking my ass or fucking my cunt again. He eventually opted for my cunt and got me on hands and knees. He said I had been a good girl and gave me the magic wand to use on myself. He started off slowly, teasing. He’d then fuck me harder for a moment. I kept the wand pressed against my clit but he told me not to come until I asked permission. He wanted me to take my time so he could fuck me as long as he liked. I was moaning like crazy, feeling amazing even though I was holding back from orgasm. I almost didn’t want it to end. I wish I had a recording of my moaning and babbling at that point. Out of nowhere, he told me to come. And I came as he fucked me some more. When his cock was pushed out he slapped my cunt to keep me coming and I sprayed come all over my hand, the throe, and the magic wand.
I was in a wondrous daze after that orgasm. It was hard to find somewhere to lay down since there was a big puddle, but I sat against the wall, legs splayed. Despite using the menstrual cup, there was a smudge of blood on my leg (and the come that came out of me was tinted pink due to some menstrual content.) My hands felt like they were buzzing, and it took me a moment to realize this was from holding the magic wand to my clit for a while. I felt positively amazing. If they could make that feeling into a pill form I think I’d become addicted. Oh yes.
After I cleaned up, we sat in the living room and he put on the basketball game. He had me grab pillows so I could sit on the floor at his feet – another thing I had requested in my wishing box. I happily played with my new smart phone while I sat on the floor between his legs. Occasionally I’d hug his thigh and kiss it. And other times he’d smack me playfully with his hard cock. It was an evening I sorely needed after the emotional upheaval of this month’s cycle.
Despite my depression the day before, my birthday was pretty good. (And Friday morning I woke up with a bit of a migraine aura. I haven’t had a migraine in a few years since I started taking magnesium, and this didn’t turn into a full-blown migraine, but to get to the point, when in the prodromal phase of a migraine I have often had severe mood issues a few days before the actual migraine. Alas, I only realize why when the migraine would eventually come on. But boy, does this help explain Tuesday! Thankfully, I only experienced the aura and postdrome today and avoided the pain, I guess through my regular taking of magnesium.)
So, while I still felt a bit emotionally fragile, my work day wasn’t too bad and that evening I got to have sushi with MasterDoc. He gave me a bracelet that I’ve been pining for for quite a while (first when I saw the grossly overpriced Tiffany model, then the pining became more realistic when Divasub pointed me to Eve’s Addiction.) It’s a chain with a lock (non-locking) so it’s an acceptable piece of jewelry to wear daily, but has enough bdsm symbolism to give me the warm fuzzies when I see it and think about being MasterDoc’s sub.
And I should point out here that I’m fortunate that my Dom is a doctor and the type of person to understand that things like clinical depression and migraine prodromes are somewhat out of my control. I am thankful that he understands. Of course in return I’ll do my best to understand and control my moods before they get out of control.
I fell back into sub mode on Wednesday. I was happy to do stuff even though it was my birthday. I scrubbed the kitchen counters (something that I try to keep on top of). I exercised without complaint. And consequently my evening was much nicer than the previous afternoon. When I’m happy, I’m so glad to serve. Service is much harder when I feel depressed or irritable.
We climbed into bed at one point and there was some erotic foreplay. I kissed his chest, rubbed “the spot.” (“The spot” is this particular place in the center of his upper chest that I and one of his friends [she named it] find soothing to stroke.) He directed my hand downward and I stroked his cock, then massaged around the base as he stroked it. He had me wet his fingers and he stroked my clit. We put the axis under my ass and he fucked me. It was wonderful. I only squirted a little when I came (he pointed out that he had drained me the day before) but I had delicious, hard orgasms.
I was very happy and so the second round of fucking was a total bonus. He took me from behind, and fucked me until I was frantically moaning. I could feel the mushroom head of his cock sliding along the inside of my vagina. It was as if I could feel every stroke of his cock in minute detail. The build up lead to terrific orgasms when he gave me permission to come. He’s gotten better at managing my vagina of steel and not getting his cock pushed out when I come. (I also try a bit to control the clamping down.) I came for quite a while as he continued to push his cock into my spasming cunt. I was euphoric. I cuddled up after and let him know that I was so very sorry for my outburst the day before. I felt so happy to be in his arms and to remember that I’m loved.
So MasterDoc knew that orgasms and/or a beating would help improve my mood. After we had talked quite a bit, we were able to sit and relax and reconnect. I made myself a cup of tea and we had this exchange:
“What type of tea did you make?”
“Regular black tea.”
“No, no, I know that but you usually make something good, you’re a bit of a connoisseur of teas.”
“Oh I made PG Tips. I’d say it’s the best bagged tea I can get.”
“PG what?”
“PG Tips. It’s big in England.”
“Oh an Anglo thing, of course. I should have known with you.”
“Well the English know quite a bit about making tea. What do Americans know? We threw it in the bay. That’s not how you make a pot of tea!”
We thought it was funny at the time. I hope it translates here.
Relaxation and cuddling led to porn watching and sex. I rode his cock for a while until he decided to spank my ass – hard. In the fragile mental state I was in today I couldn’t process the pain. He smacked me a few times and I burst into tears. Yup, even wonderful MasterDoc miscalculates sometimes. We stopped, cuddled and he acknowledged that probably just now I need support and love rather than pain.
MasterDoc knew that orgasms would improve my mood even if a beating wasn’t quite right. He teased me with the magic wand until I was rolling my hips trying to keep the vibration directly on my clit. I started to moan and he added the archer wand (glass dildo) and fucked me with it. He had me take over using the Hitachi on myself, and he proceeded to fuck me with the glass toy. When he told me to come, I had incredible rolling orgasms. I squirted massively, multiple times. The archer wand is curved just right to hit my g-spot so I suppose the rain shower that issued forth from me wasn’t a big surprise. Thankfully I had put the throe on the bed or the mattress would have been soaked. When he cuddled me after, I put down a towel on the puddle and pretty much immediately the towel was soaked through.
This was pretty appropriate considering the porn I had selected was “lesbian bukkake.” Yes, women squirting all over each other. It’s kinda hot.
I truly am blessed with multiple orgasms. I had just kept coming over and over again. I was entirely unaware of anything other than my orgasms. I did feel better after (how could I not!?), and I cuddled MasterDoc tight. I love being in his arms. I would have been totally miserable if I had stormed out earlier in the afternoon.
Next, I played with his ass to help him come. We watched more porn (and I had to resist making commentary on it… the theme was two best friends get it on and have a male escort join them. Yes, women fuck their best friends all the time. I’m sure men do that too. What, you don’t? Oh that’s right, we don’t either.) and I massaged his ass. I think I keep getting better with practice and have learned to take my time, massage his thighs and then his ass, then very slowly work lubed hands into the area by his asshole. Stroke and press against there for a while and then when he asks I slide a finger in. I followed his direction when he told me to press forward or massage inside his ass. It really is satisfying to help him reach a fantastic orgasm. Watching someone shudder and pant a little with pleasure as they come, and knowing you helped, is a great feeling.
He offered to make me come again, and I was really happy. I hadn’t expected more. (The orgasms earlier were phenomenal. Really, what more could a woman want?) I lay the throe back down and put a towel over it. It was the towel he had just jerked off onto. When I lay down I got a cold wet feeling on my arm all of a sudden. Yup, his come this time, not mine. He just used his fingers to bring me to orgasm the second time around. And again, I came over and over. The man doesn’t need toys. He has talent. And again I felt overwhelmed with happiness that I hadn’t stupidly walked out. I cuddled up to him and didn’t want to move. The depression from earlier was replaced with a bit of chagrin over how irrationally I had been thinking earlier. MasterDoc has vowed to pay closer attention to my mental state and not let me get to the crazy part of things. When I’m rational, I can see that he’s been the best person ever to watch my moods and help me get depression under control.
I’ve been feeling the need lately, more than ever, to feel submissive. It’s funny, because if you’re not submissive you may wonder why anyone would want to feel controlled, beneath another, objectified. But for me, it’s not only incredibly hot, it also soothes me. In the midst of all that’s been going on in my life, submitting to MasterDoc allows me to relax and not stress.
It’s not always easy to submit. Last night MasterDoc talked to me about how I can be possessive of my time with him. If faced with giving up or sharing some of my time with him, I should view it in terms of submission and pleasing him. This is incredibly hard because I want to be with him as much as possible. I crave being with him, I crave his attention. While there are moments when I’m very much in the headspace of submission where I enjoy just being there while he attends to someone or something else, (tonight was one of those nights) most of the time I find that really difficult to do. Even moreso when I can’t at least be with him in the same place.
It’s interesting, because although putting my wants aside so that his happiness is fulfilled is a challenge, (especially being genuinely happy about doing it myself) I crave that challenge. I’m happy when I’m struggling with myself to make him happy. It’s kinda convoluted I will admit. What can I say? I’m a submissive. Some days it’s more fulfilling than others. Other days I just want to be the center of attention.
Last night, we watched part of a very hot porn video – in it a submissive woman had to serve at a party. The guests could comment on her naked body and they were free to grope her as they wished. She was the only person in the room without clothes on. Her wrists were secured behind her back and she wore high heels. In the beginning she has a tray slung on a belt around her waist with two chains leading to her collar. She had to navigate the living room full of guests balancing full champagne flutes on the tray. Let me remind you, her hands are secured behind her back throughout this.
She did spill a couple of glasses and was scolded for it. One spilled on an ottoman in the middle of the room and she was ordered to clean it up with her tongue. After she did that, she was brought around the circle of people again to be groped, probed, examined and handled. God, the humiliation was hot.
I was so fucking hot and wet watching this. MasterDoc needed to divert his attention to helping one of the other ladies in his life through a crisis, and being horny yet feeling very, very submissive, I enjoyed playing with myself until he was ready to touch me, and I could go back to that if he needed to pull his attention away again. He had me stop touching myself at one point, and I really was content to lay on the bed next to him patiently. I was genuinely happy to be doing that.
I suppose short-term patience like that is easy. But feeling like I’m giving up time, giving up getting my needs met when I feel like I want them to be met is hard. The idea of taking something like a weekend away at Floating World with MasterDoc, and then deriving pleasure from him having a good time, even if I don’t get to enjoy the things I’d like to because I’m sharing him, is hard. I should trust more, I suppose, that he will make sure I’m taken care of at some point. But that’s hard when it looks like things aren’t going how you hoped. (Especially when you’ve paid your way for the weekend.)
Tonight, I was really turned on by the submission. Actually turned on by being his servant, waiting for him patiently. It made me fucking horny. He drizzled some hot wax on me and I was really turned on by the fact that he could inflict pain on me – the control of it. He fucked me after, and I was so aroused the entire time. I suppose I should add that he placed the laptop on my back and continued his online conversation while he fucked me – and this drove me crazy. He made me come and squirt like Old Faithful.
That was the only round planned, but as I started this post I looked up the porn and started watching it again. MasterDoc decided that we could go another round, and he fucked me from behind again. This time, somehow, my vaginal muscles didn’t push him out. I worked hard at keeping things that way while also coming insanely hard. My hand dropped beside the bed, flailing limply as I came, head pressed into the bed and my knees kept spreading wider as I’m pounded down into the bed. I went completely incoherent – moans, whines, grunts, gasps were the only noises I could make. I was catapulted into another world. The only thing I was only able to do was come for as long as he wanted me to. He kept fucking me and I kept coming. I started to wonder if I could handle any more. My muscles pushed him out, and he kept touching my pussy, slapping it, stroking my legs, grabbing my hair. And I responded by continuing to come and squirt. When I later picked up the towel beneath me (placed there for the wax play) it was heavy from all the wetness I had squirted. The throe underneath was very wet too. MasterDoc said that he impresses even himself. I’m impressed too. I was utterly under his control being made to come like that.
Half-Nekkid Thursday photo The square over my face kinda ruins it, but alas we do not live in an entirely sex-positive world where my sharing my nakedness would be looked upon favorably by all!
We cuddled in bed, naked, as we often do. I love to feel the warmth of him up against me. I run my fingers through his chest hair and feel relaxed. For a change, we also ended up cuddling with me scooted up the bed a bit and his face pressed against my cleavage. It was nice to stroke his hair as he nestled his face between my breasts. The warmth of another human body can be so comforting.
I wasn’t sure if we were going to do more than cuddle. He wasn’t feeling like fucking, but he did suggest a sybian ride. As much as I love the sybian, I was more in a magic wand sort of mood. So he had me get the wand set up, get an insertable (I chose my glass dildo) and some lube. He toyed with the magic wand against my nipples, and thankfully it was a time when it felt good. (Sometimes the vibration is too much when my nipples are feeling extra sensitive.) He tried something new, and licked my nipple as he held the vibe right by his tongue. The sensation of a velvety tongue and vibration brought a smile to my face instantly. It wasn’t just arousing, it was a sensation that made me feel just plain good.
He teased my body with the vibrating wand. He’d push it against my clit and get me worked up and breathing heavy. But then he would move it to my thighs or my breasts. He worked me over for quite a while. I appreciate the fact that he went out of his way to do this since I had been dealing with depression. He knew that this attention and the subsequent orgasms would help.
He teased me for what seemed like a long while. He put the wand down momentarily and lubed up the glass dildo. He slid it into me and fucked me with it – I was panting instantly. I could have come from just that. He teased me some more with the wand, holding the dildo inside me. I so wanted to come. He alternated between the wand and the dildo – working me up into a right lather.
I was nearly going to break down and beg for permission to come, but then he gave me the command to come. And come I did – over and over and over again. The feel-good chemicals were coursing through my body – I tingled from head to toe. Depression had no hope of holding onto me with MasterDoc making me feel so good. Afterward, I was in such an amazing post-orgasmic haze. I had a stupid grin on my face and I cuddled up to him. I’m going to miss him so this week, but I will be popping by his place a few times to exercise, so at least I will get to stop by the apartment that holds so many fond memories for me.
I was shocked and saddened yesterday to find out that Urban Libertine had passed away in his sleep on Sunday morning. I had only met him and Momo this year and become friendly with them – I’ve only hung out with them twice at their place during sex parties, but I count them both as friends. We’d twitter at each other and flirt a bit and I looked forward to getting to know them better. When I noticed Momo’s twitters sounding like something really bad had happened, I sent her a tweet asking about it. I had no expectation of it being as serious and final as death. He was a nice guy and I’m sad that my friendship with him won’t be able to go any further. At the last party, I didn’t get to have sex with him, but I thought, “I’ll just have to make sure I get with him next time.” Who knew there wouldn’t be a next time? He was only 40. Just a few years older than me.
Now, some people might wonder why I’m so very sad about this when I barely knew him. I mean, I don’t even know his last name. But it got me thinking about emotional vs. physical intimacy. We put emotional intimacy up on a pedestal and declare it “superior” to physical intimacy, but in the meantime we forget that physical intimacy IS intimacy. Taking someone into your body is an intimate act. No, it’s not the same thing as becoming emotionally intimate with someone, but this is the first time someone I’ve had sex with has passed away (to my knowledge). I was fond of him as a friend and I’m fond of his lady as a friend as well. I ache for her deep in the bottom of my heart every time I think about what she must be going through losing him so suddenly. They had a D/s relationship from what I know, and she affectionately called him Daddy. They seemed to be so in love and so happy. I’m so sad for her to lose someone so dear.
Of course, this got me thinking – how would I cope if I suddenly lost MasterDoc? I don’t like to think about it as the thought terrifies me. Last Saturday I got a peek into how much I depend on him. I was having terrible stomach pains and wondered if I should go to the hospital. I couldn’t reach MasterDoc (his phone battery had died) and so I put off going. I wanted his guidance to tell me to go. It’s not that I’m incapable of making an intelligent decision about my own health care – I did decide to go considering I had just had a procedure the day before and the pain could be complications. But I dread hospital visits – particularly since it looked like I was going alone – so I put it off for a good hour and a half while I panicked and thought about what to do and hoped the pain would go away. Had I reached MasterDoc I would have acted sooner as he would have told me to go. (I am fine now, follow up with doctor tomorrow. I have gall stones – who knew? Shane drove all the way back from home to go to the ER with me. Davey and MasterDoc got my messages the next morning.)
While I’d be devastated to lose Davey, there’s an added layer to my relationship with MasterDoc due to the D/s component. I rely on him for input and decisions. I’ve gotten so used to his guidance that I feel like I’d be lost without it. I’ve finally found a Dom, something I’ve needed all along. How would I survive without one? I’m terrified at the thought. I have trusted him to do things to me that I’ve never trusted anyone to do before. I don’t want to have to look for another Dom. I can’t imagine someone else being able to take his place. He is able to read me like no one else.
Last night I appreciated seeing MasterDoc even more than usual. I counted my blessings to have him and I cried a bit as we cuddled because I was sad about the loss of Urban Libertine, sad for his lady Momo, and also scared at the idea of having to go through what she’s going through. The age difference between MasterDoc and me brings issues of mortality more to the fore. He’s 18 years older than me, and male, the odds are extremely strong that I will outlive him. I dread that day. Last night we made sure to tell each other how much we love each other. It was reassuring after this sudden loss and the upcoming trips that he’ll be making this month. I don’t see him again for six days. But I will cherish each day I have with him – near or far. Sometimes MasterDoc points out that he thinks part of why I’m so smitten with him is lust (not that he doubts my love, but he thinks a percentage of it is lust). But I would much rather have him in my life not having sex with me than losing him. I’ve become deeply attached to him. While I do lust after him, I also love him deeply.
When Babeland offered Staci Haines’ Healing Sex for review, I decided to snap it up. You see, after I was sexually assaulted in 2005, a friend at that time had Haines’ Healing Sex DVD and lent it to me sometime in the months following the assault. While Haines’ focus is on survivors of childhood sexual abuse, her techniques can definitely be applied to recovering from any sort of sexual trauma. I remembered the DVD as being insightful, so I was happy for the chance to read and own Haines’ book.
Staci Haines specializes in the somatic approach – “an educational and transformational approach that assumes that the body, mind and emotions are one interconnected biological system.” (p. 15) She discusses a great deal the concepts of being aware of what you’re feeling, or indeed being aware if you’ve dissociated and stopped feeling. Being present during your sexual experiences is a major first step towards healing. Being aware of your body and reactions helps get you away from dissociating – “checking out” – during sex.
Haines is realistic about the conflicting emotions that survivors may feel – they may feel guilt or shame when they feel sexual pleasure, they may love and hate their perpetrator at the same time. Being triggered during sex with a partner may cause a survivor to take their anger out on their partner. She doesn’t paint a picture of recovery as being all hearts and flowers – but she does point you towards the wonderful future you can have if you take the time to heal. As they say, nothing worth doing is ever easy.
The approach is entirely sex-positive. She explores different types of sexual expression, everything from oral sex to S/M and in between. There’s chapters on sexual anatomy, creating boundaries for yourself, partnered sex, navigating your way through triggers and how to work on healing them, and even the use of sex toys. Many of these chapters have interesting sex-positive information that would be useful for anyone. (The book is aimed at women survivors, of any sexual orientation.) While she discusses the problem of survivors sometimes becoming sexually compulsive in reaction to the abuse, she makes clear the point that being a fully realized sexual woman with a stronger sex drive than our society thinks you should have is NOT the same as being compulsive. She then goes on to discuss the real difficulties with actual compulsion. She also doesn’t glamorize sex as being the perfect image we see in porn or read about in books. Haines is clear that we bring our quirky human selves to our sex lives – there will be times when things go wrong and you and your partner end up laughing. Sometimes you may need to stop the action for a time and get back to it after dealing with difficult memories. There’s even a chapter for partners of sexual abuse survivors.
The final chapter in the book is a phenomenal collection of resources – everything from healing sexual trauma, to dealing with any sort of trauma, to women-friendly sex-positive sex toy stores (Babeland is on the list).
One minor gripe: this book has more than an average number of typos that were not caught and fixed. If you’re a grammar nut like me this may irritate the heck out of you.
RT @Unchaste_Athene: Addendum: Also stop kissing people, because that is far more likely to give you HSV-1. 14 hrs ago
RT @Unchaste_Athene: Dear potential lovers:Unless you have a recent test saying you are HSV1-free, you have no right to be paranoid about me 14 hrs ago
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