Wednesday, October 22, 2008

The other L word

Being bound, blindfolded, whipped, cropped, slapped, spanked, choked, photographed naked, or video taped, doesn’t frighten me half as much as the other L word. You know the one; it starts with an L and ends with an e. Even the thought of it makes me quake in my shoes and want to run and hide.

I’m a basket case when it comes to relationships. I try to learn from my past mistakes and I think the last few years have been monumental in my growth but it’s frightening to think that I will get it wrong again. But really what will happen if I do? I’ve learned from the past that I will not disappear, I may fall apart for a bit but I always dust myself off and move forward…the problem is I tend to keep moving forward with the same type of people and need to break the pattern. I keep thinking the next one will be different but then blam something happens and I realize I'm still dating the same person just in a different package. See that is the rational me talking, the brain, the heart is a completely different matter. The heart sits and says “uh uh, no way are you going to get hurt again, I’m going to build this wall here and hide behind it”.

See my heart likes to think it’s in control…sort of like me. I know there are some things in life that we can’t control but that doesn’t mean I don’t still try. I’m a control freak remember? Of course I also question my judgment when it comes to relationships. I’ve been burned so many times it’s scary to let go, relax and just see where life takes me. I have to say Master is extremely patient with me in this regard, he gets this rational tone to his voice and makes it all seem so easy, so clear. Then I hang up the phone and two minutes later I’m in my head again.

My relationship with Master is probably the healthiest one I’ve been in so far. (Which by its very nature may sound absurd but it's true). His personality is much different than anyone else I've been involved with and I think I knew that this relationship would be different and that’s why Master scared me so much when we first met. It freaked me out so badly that I had to back off for a time. Now that I’ve opened myself up again I’m still scared but it’s not the all consuming scariness that I had before.

Before I get tons of e-mail on this let me state that I’m not worried he is going to hurt me physically (at least not on purpose) or anything like that. He gets in my head, and sees me, I find myself opening up in ways that I’ve never done before and that can be terrifying. So its not that I’m really scared of him personally it’s more that I’m scared of him breaching the carefully constructed wall around my heart, leaving it crumbling and me vulnerable. I can sense the cracks in the foundation and I guess this is life deciding it is time to teach me a new lesson about submission. Learning to let go and enjoying the ride, wherever it takes me. Wish me luck.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008


I have always disliked being on display. I’m hypercritical of my body just like almost every other woman out there, and have found it difficult to overcome the embarrassment of it. I have recently come to a place of acceptance and I am learning to surrender to it. I am beginning to understand the erotic nature of being naked, bound and on display for my Owner.

I know when he watches me, know when he stops whatever it was he was doing and slides his gaze across my flesh.I feel it. I sense his attention and it sends shivers coursing through my body. My heart speeds up, my skin flushes and I feel the dampness forming between my legs

Today I stand naked, my wrists bound above my head secured to a bolt in the ceiling. The rope pulls me up so high I must stand on tip to, my body stretched to its limit. A blindfold covers my eyes; my mouth is stuffed with a ball gag. My arms ache and the muscles in my calves twitch, saliva pools in the corners of my lips. My body is my only measure of the time that has gone by and even still I couldn’t tell you if I have been here for 5 minutes or 30. The air has a slight chill to it, my nipples stand at attention, and my skin is covered in goose bumps. I hear noises around me, sometimes close, sometimes further away. I try not to pay attention to them; I get anxious trying to figure out what Master is doing. I breathe deeply and try to relax into the position, surrender to it.

I lift my leg, and point and flex my foot to take the ache away; I slide it up the other leg massaging the tension from my calf with my heel. Every movement is calculated, I try to keep my toes pointed, try to make sure ever movement is pleasing and sensual. I switch legs and repeat the process, slowly running my pointed foot up the side of my leg, swinging my knee to the side, releasing my hip, opening myself up should he be watching me. When I’ve stretched my legs, I lean my head back slowly, arching my back pressing my breasts forward, my ass out. I shake my head slowly side to side stretching my neck, my long red curls softly brushing my back. When I have stretched all I can I slowly return to position, waiting.

Master likes to watch me shift and move, my muscles tensing and shaking from the strain. When he comes close I feel the warmth radiating from his body. I strain forward willing him to touch me, his body heat searing my flesh, and pooling between my thighs. The desire to be touched sending pulsations through my body that make me writhe in anticipation.

He leaves me there squirming, working myself up. He knows I have a vivid imagination and it doesn’t require much to send it reeling down the path toward orgasm. He enjoys watching this happen, I’m sure he would love to be able to read my mind, to peak into my head and watch the scenario I have picked out.

Then with great care he reaches out and softly runs his fingers down my breast, my stomach, my hip. The tenderness of it almost undoes me, I’m too aroused. Tender was a few minutes ago now I want it hard, I want him to grab me roughly and possess me. But he knows that, which is why he moves slowly, reminding me that I am not in charge that I am here for his pleasure, to take as he pleases. He teases me for a few more minutes and then moves away, I cry out from behind my gag moving forward trying to find him again with my body. My frustration mounts as the moments tick by. I try to surrender into my predicament but I am beyond my capacity to relax, the only release I can think about is focused between my legs.

Suddenly I am yanked backward by my hair, my body pulled firmly against Masters. I groan. He leans in and whispers to me “Is this what you wanted slave?” His other hand slides down the front of my body; he pinches my nipples hard, squeezing my breasts. His hand travels lower and lower, slipping between my legs, sliding through my wetness. I grunt and press my pelvis forward into his hand, my body bucking, pressing the heel of his hand into my clit while his fingers slip in and out of me.

“You’re so wet, you like this don’t you? It turns you on doesn’t it?”

I moan in response.

"Do you want to come slave?”

I groan like an animal in heat my body moving faster.

“Come for me slave.”

I scream from behind my gag and my legs give out leaving me dangling from my wrists.
Master releases my hair, and wraps his other arm around my waist holding me up, taking the pressure off my arms while I twist and moan in ecstasy and release.

As my breathing returns to normal, Master reaches up and unties my arms. I collapse against him. He undoes the gag in my mouth but leaves my blindfold on. He carries me to the bed, places me down and lies down beside me. He removes the blindfold and I blink at the brightness of the room. When my eyes adjust to the light I look into his eyes, and he smiles at me.

“Thank you Sir.”

“My pleasure slave.” He answered, wrapping me in his arms.

Saturday, October 11, 2008


My emotions are torn, split between the excitement of a new adventure and the sadness that I’m not sharing it with you. I may be busy exploring a new land, playing death defying games with new foods, but you won’t be far from my thoughts.

An amazing statue, an awe inspiring landmark is sure to excite and amaze, but next to the thrill of witnessing new things I will be wishing I could share it with you. I know there will be other times, other locations that we can share, but it doesn’t mean I won’t miss you on this trip. How could I not when looking at the faces around me will always bring you to mind.

I know what you are thinking, what you would say, “ Don’t dwell on that”, “You’re going to be so busy you won’t have time to miss me", “You’ll be home before you know it.” The list goes on and on. And you’re right I shouldn’t let these thoughts spoil my trip. In fact I won’t let it spoil my trip but I will still miss my nightly calls, my weekends spent wrapped in your arms.

So I will focus on the positive. The amazing new and different things I will see on my trip and our reunion when I return, sharing my experiences, my photos etc…but mostly I will look forward to a private welcome home celebration that keeps us inside for many delightful, and kinky hours.

Thursday, October 9, 2008

The Whip

The blow landed just below my ass. I felt compelled to move forward away from it but I knew I needed to, wanted to, stand my ground. I leaned over the back of a chair; my back arched my ass pushed out in invitation.

Another blow landed this time higher. The sound was worse than the bite of the leather as it struck me, but with each blow I could feel my skin heat. I could imagine the raised line of welts that were forming on my skin, the redness that accompanied them. Master marking me, his sign of Ownership. Another strike, another crack of leather, I winced this time and pranced in place up on my toes. I felt the heat seep down through my flesh to radiate between my thighs.

I listened to the whistle of the leather as it sliced through the air, trying not to brace for the impact. I had learned to surrender to each blow, knowing that the slice of the leather wasn’t as harsh if I was relaxed. The next strike landed high on my back; I wasn’t expecting it and jumped a little sucking in my breath with surprise.

Master grabbed a handful of my hair pulling my head back while another blow landed on my ass. I could feel the moisture building between my legs and I moaned and shifted from side to side, my nipples hardening. The blows kept coming; I bit my lip my body torn between pleasure and pain. A cool hand touched the lines crisscrossing my body running down over my ass, grabbing my hip. I felt the hardness of his cock as he parted my legs and roughly pushed inside me. I groaned at the fullness of him buried deep within me. My body clenched around him, I had been waiting for this, needing it. His hand tightened in my hair, his hips moved, I pushed back into him, as he rode me hard. “Come for me slave.” He whispered and the world broke apart.

I moaned and bucked like a wild animal, the orgasm ripped through my body clenching and releasing my muscles, I didn’t want it to stop, the intensity of it flowed through me, and kept going. As my body continued to ride the wave of ecstasy he pulled out of me. I cried out, my body still clenching, around the emptiness. I was forced to my knees and his cock pushed down my throat. I could taste my own juices coating him and groaned, hungrily sucking, he thrust quickly and deeply in and out of my mouth, saliva dripped out of the corners of my lips and down my chin as he used my mouth as he had just used my pussy. I felt his muscles tensing, my mouth fill with his release, choking me. His hand was still entwined in my hair, not allowing me to pull away. I gagged but took a few deep breaths through my nose, and calmed myself down as Master’s nourishment slid down my throat, a few drops seeping from between my lips to drip onto my breasts.

He slowly pulled out of my mouth and looked down at me. “Good girl” he said and I smiled. He pulled me up and walked me to the edge of the bed, handing me a towel. I cleaned up and we climbed into bed, his cool body against my warm back, his arms wrapped tightly around me. “Such a good slave, I’m glad I own you.” He whispered kissing the back of my head. I feel asleep a smile on my face, wrapped in Masters arms.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

The Night

I listen to the wind howling outside, the fallen leaves dancing across the pavement. The cold seeps in through the old walls making the room cold. I slip down further under the warmth of the down comforter but I still can’t seem to get warm. I shiver and move closer into his warmth. He grumbles in his sleep as my cold flesh touches him but he automatically pulls me closer and envelops me in his arms.

I sigh, trying to forget about what woke me. My crazy insecure thoughts and fears always seem to rise to the surface during the night. It’s easier during the day, I keep myself busy, occupy myself with other things but when night falls and the quiet settles over the house they creep around the corners of my mind. Like a mouse seeking out little bits of food my brain picks at the threads of past fears, past hurts, casting doubts.

How can I trust when I have been hurt so many times? How do I surrender these fears to the past? I feel as if I am balanced on a ledge holding on by my fingertips, knowing that I need to let go in order to move forward. I put on a good front, but inside fear eats me up and haunts my nights. He pulls me tighter as if he can sense my unease.

“What’s wrong?” he mumbles sleepily.

“Nothing Sir” I reply.

“Stop thinking” he says and turns my head, gives me a quick kiss and falls back to sleep.

I chuckle to myself, at how well he knows me. A small smile forms on my lips as I snuggle back into his body, my brain quieted for the moment. I continue to listen to the wind howling outside the window but this time it doesn’t sound so scary. The shadows and doubts have been pushed aside and my body relaxes into sleep.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Judgments again....

I didn’t think I would be writing another post on how frustrating it is by the judgments of others but it amazes me how petty and nasty some people can be. As bloggers we write to share our experiences our inner most thoughts, stories tidbits of our lives etc... I can’t speak for everyone but I usually enjoy reading the comments people leave. I appreciate all the people who read my words and those that take the time to comment. I applaud those who even if they don’t understand my relationship see the happiness it brings me and acknowledge that while it might not be right for them it works for me and Master.

It’s the people that seem to have an agenda, an insistence that their way is the only way that sadden and befuddle me. Its times when I read comments to posts that tell the writer that they aren’t a “true” or “real” Dom, slave, whatever. Who is anyone to tell anyone else that they aren’t a “true” anything? At times I feel like I’m back in high school.

Wouldn’t it be much more productive if comments were made from the person leaving the comments perspective instead of from a place of judgment or attack. I know when I comment I try to only speak from my perspective, my experiences. I may state how a particular post made me feel but I make an effort not to attack the person who wrote it.

As I stated once before in another post I feel that there are way too many people who hold judgment against those of us who choose to live a kink lifestyle for people who are in the lifestyle to pass judgment on the ways in which we define our relationships. It’s a shame that we all can’t acknowledge that there isn’t a “right” way or a “wrong” way to any of this that it’s really just about what makes us happy. If you’re kink is kinkier than mine and you are happy with it congratulations on finding what does it for you but please don’t put mine or others down. There is enough room in this world for everyone to have their own variation.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008


I stand before you, your one hand resting lightly on my throat while the other hand gently traces my face, your thumb softly brushing my lips. I watch your face as your hands move over my body and shudder as I see myself through your eyes. I love the way you touch me, the way you hold me, your strength, your guidance.

You spin me around standing me in front of the mirror, your hand still gripping my throat as you stand behind me. I look at myself standing there naked, you behind me fully clothed, the collar around my neck under your hand, and watch as you slowly move your hands over every square inch of my body. Your movements are slow and torturous. There is no rush, no hurry, except for in my head which is urging you on, wanting more, wanting you to take me to fulfillment.

I watch as my eyes turn from clear to glassy with desire, my legs start to shake, and quiver, my breath comes faster causing my breasts to rise and fall in rhythm. I have watched as you teased my nipples to hard peaks, now they are straining forward begging for your attention. I can see the slick wetness glistening between my legs needing your attention.

I’m not sure which I like more, when you are gentle, slow and deliberate or when you are strong, demanding, and harsh. Each has its own unique challenges and rewards. I try to think of other things but somehow you know when my mind wanders and bring it quickly back to the present with a gentle flick of my nipple, a slow circle around my clit or your hand around my neck tightening ever so slightly.

I stand there like this for what seems like hours but is most likely only minutes, my body shaking and quivering, my knees wanting to give out. “Please” I beg, “please Master, I need to come.” Your eyes lock with mine in the mirror. “Keep your eyes open and watch yourself” you whisper to me. I hate watching myself come, I feel so self conscious but I do as I’m told. It’s a struggle to keep my eyes open, to keep them trained on my face as you move your hand between my legs. I want to watch you, watch your hands, your face but I know if I do you will stop. So I keep watching myself, my eyes locked with the image in the mirror.

I feel the pressure mounting inside me, I want to move but your hand on my throat tightens warning me to stay still. I moan, and my eyes start to slide shut, as your grip on my throat tightens again warning me to keep my eyes open and locked with my eyes in the mirror. I gaze through half open slits at the girl in the mirror and know she is on the edge. You lean down and whisper to me to “come now” and my back arches as I push my pelvis forward into your hand, and I lean my body back into yours.

My mouth opens and a low gasping moan escapes my lips. I blink several times trying my hardest to keep my eyes open, watching the girl in the mirror buck and groan. For a moment I forget it is me, fascinated by the sight of the woman having an orgasm before me. When my brain returns to reality, I blush and try to look away but you hold me steady and whisper to me “You’re beautiful and sexy there is nothing to be embarrassed about.” You hold me there a few minutes more then turn me around and wrap me in your arms. I hide my face in your shoulder, embarrassed and tired. You walk me to the bed and hold me until I drift off to sleep.