Making Up for Lost Time

There is nothing like marathon make-up sex to make it all better.  Since M’s been back, we’ve been back at it…each and every and any opportunity we can.

In the morning before work…

Those” run home for a quick lunch” Nooners…

The “we have 30 minutes before the kids get home from school” afternoon delights

Those “time for bed” at 8:30 evenings where we don’t actually go to sleep until 1:00 am

The wee hour “wake up call” where there’s no need for an alarm, beacause we never go to sleep.

And as much as I love how he takes me.  How he controls me.  The immense pleasure we share…what I really love, is how close we are becoming.  It feels like the brief hiatus ignited our devotion to one another.  I find myself more submissive.  I am more acutely aware of my service to him.  I want to give more of myself to him.

And on a side note, all of this action is great for my fitness routine.

Now if I can just get some sleep.

all the time

 

 

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Pavlov and the Well-Trained Sub

There is a certain amount of training that goes into a D/s relationship. Learning your Master’s rules. His expectations. Learning to obey. Learning to give Him everything…the good, the bad, the ugly and the part of you that’s been hidden away for so long.  It’s a process.

And for the headstrong submissive, it can be a bit challenging at times.

I find it most challenging to give M everything.  I only want to give Him the good, the shiny, the polished, the organized part of myself.  I try to pretend that the forgetful, ADD, scattered, emotional, overwhelmed person doesn’t exist.  And then he sees the inside of my car, and that perfect, shiny illusion is shattered in a matter of seconds.

My life is full of responsibilities and sometimes I get so wrapped up in the “have-to’s” that I forget all of the “want-to’s” in my head.  I think we all do that to an extent.  I find myself so focused on the to-do list, that I sometimes forget that my number one responsibility is to be His.  To give Him all of it, all of me.  And if I do this, He will take my burdens away.  Lucky for me, M is patient.  He understands my reluctance and He gives me the time I need to turn over more and more to His capable hands.

This is all part of my training.  At times, I do forget that I need to be trained.  I am naturally submissive to Him, and I feel that I should innately know how to serve M best.  And in some ways, this is true.  But He is in charge and looking back, I see subtle ways that He has trained me.

When we walk into a store, a restaurant…or anywhere, I stand on his right side, slightly behind his shoulder and he takes my hand and leads me in to where we are going.  There’s a feeling of safety.  A feeling of protection.  I like it.

When we go to a restaurant, He usually orders for me.  He knows what I like and He will ask, “What sounds good to you tonight?” And if I say more than one item, he will choose which entree to order and that’s that.  He never gets it wrong, he knows me so well.  And on a side note…He will, at His discretion, order me a drink from the bar.  Sometimes I think the man is just trying to get me drunk to have His way with me….but He has his way with me anytime, anyway, without the drinks.

He has trained me to have an almost Pavlovian response to certain phrases.

  1. “Assume the position.”  (This means on the bed I am to be on my knees, presenting myself for His use, close enough to His cock to pleasure and worship Him and within His nimble reach.)  These words cause an immediate physical reaction that changes the humidity in a few seconds.  In crass terms, these words make me soaking wet.
  2. “That’s my good girl.” (M says this at different intervals, but almost always praises me when I cum for Him.  When he sees I’ve let go and shed every layer of skin….torn down every wall and revealed myself to Him.) These words evoke a multitude of emotions.  It makes me feel proud that He is pleased with me.  It makes me feel small and submissive.  It makes me want to be His very bad “good girl.”
  3. “Cum for me” (I love the way these words sound whispered in my ear.  The feel of his breathy voice is an automatic turn-on.  And to be quite frank, these words…His command…produces almost immediate results.  He has trained me so thoroughly, that I will cum on command and let go with abandon.
  4. “Suck my cock, little slut”  (Holy mother of Don Draper, those words….those words flip a switch in my brain that turns me into a voracious slave, eager to savor every inch of Him.)

I think it’s fascinating how mere words can produce such a response.  I love that He has such control over me.  That He can elicit such intense reactions from simple phrases.  I often fantasize that we are in a public place where he leans over and whispers one of these catchphrases in my ear and I immediately begin to salivate from my head to my toes.  I turn into a shameless mess of a woman, my only goal to pleasure Him and serve Him.

Pavlov was onto something.  And so is my M.

truth

Our Story of “O”

Sometimes, life gets in the way.  The desire is there.  The passion is there.  But so are the kids.  The bills.  The housework.  The jobs.

And waiting in the corner…staring at me smugly is that ever-growing bastard…the laundry.

So what’s a couple to do with limited time on their hands?  This is an age-old question and I bet if you Google it, I am sure you will find several versions of the same Ladies Home Journal article, along with multiple Cosmopolitan articles about how to keep the fires hot.  There may be some valuable advice in there about making time…about connecting…about reverse-cowgirling your lover like Seabiscuit till you both win the race.

But let me ask this….what’s a kinky couple to do with limited time on their hands?  A couple who pushes limits.  A couple who teeters towards edge play.  A couple whose marathon scenes have been known to go on for days.  How do they find the time to-do-that-thing-they-do?

For M and I, we have always somehow found a way, and the only rule (which is more like an anti-rule) is “anytime, anywhere and any way we can get away with it.”

But a little while back, we were struggling to find a way.  It had been a couple of weeks since we’d engaged in anything sexual.  I’d been dealing with putting my father on hospice and we’d both been busy getting the kids settled in school.  There was little to no time for anything other than kids/parents, bills, meals and everything else that demanded our attention.

But one night lying in bed as I was about to fall into a deep coma from exhaustion, I felt his breath in my ear.

“Assume the position, my little slut.”  I could feel his hand clasp my throat and I quickly rose to my knees and faced him.  He stroked my hair and face.  I was immediately awake and at attention.  He pulled me to his lips and kissed me as if it were our first kiss.  Long and passionate and purposeful.  I could feel his hand between my thighs searching for his perfect spot.  Within minutes I was a puddle of a mess.  He kissed me again.

And then he said, “Go get a towel.” I am glad thought of that.  My M definitely knows best.

For hours we worshipped each other’s bodies.  It was a session of pure, uninhibited play.  I don’t know when, if ever, I’ve had orgasms like that.  They were so fast…one after another…after another…after another.  The towel was soaked from his handiwork. We barely came up for air…each of us pleasuring the other.  I loved that his hips came off the bed as he plunged himself deeply in my mouth, clutching my long hair in his hands as he unloaded himself down my throat. Neither of us could get enough.  It was as if we made up for lost time, many times over.

My journey to subspace was swift and beautiful.  I was able to find the peace I so badly needed.  I let go of all that was vying for a place in my thoughts, and realized that my only real need is to serve M.  If I do this.  If I give Him my everything, he will lighten my burden.  He will ease my mind.

And he will fuck the ever-living shit out of me at a moment’s notice.  DAMN…..

Oscar

When we finally passed out, sated and exhausted, it was almost 4:00 in the morning.   I was up early for work the next day.  Rejuvenated.  Refreshed.

And reminded…that I am His.

 

Madness

This week has been incredibly stressful for me. Maestro has also had a challenging week. Lucky for us both, he is visiting this weekend. I do hope he sees fit to push my limits and further my enlightenment. I hope he rummages through our bag of delights and finds the perfect implement to use on me, as he uses me.  He says, “You know I don’t take requests.” And trust me, I do know this.

My reply was, “Yes, but I do know you will TAKE what is Yours.”

transformed

I hope the weekend is full of dark and dastardly deeds, because this week has been nothing short of pure Madness….

 

ABC’s of BDSM/Kink

In celebration of Dr. Seuss’ birthday this month…let’s go on a little sojourn into the ABC’s of BDSM and kink, shall we?

A is for Anal.  Come on ladies, ass up.  It’s no longer just for birthdays, anniversaries and make-up sex.  I’ll Analyze it for you.  It is Amazing. So get off of yours and get some…

B is for Bondage.  Bound by ropes, cuffs or even words…there is no freedom like it. Hog-tied.  Tied to the bed.  Hands in front.  Hands behind.  Legs.  Ankles.  Hands tied to legs…to ankles…to the bed…I could go on…

C is for Control. The word itself stirs me…In my humble submissive opinion, it is best given away and Consensually coerced with the use of a strong Crop and well-positioned Clamps.

D is for Dominant.  Delicious.  Decisive.  Direct and Demonstrative.  All I can say, in Southern-speak is DAAYYUUMM. (Which is DAMN…for those of y’all who don’t speak the language)

E is for Exhibitionism.  Could you would you in a boat? Could you would you in my throat?  Could you would you in plain sight?  Could you would you when it’s bright?  It’s anytime.  Anywhere. Exposed.  Erotic.  Exciting.

F is for Fetish.  Fly your freak flag. All are welcome.  Flags of a feather Freak together, with Floggers and all.

G is for Good Girl.  These 2 words, when used together, dripping from the lips of my M, ignite a fire in my loins that burns like the flames of Hades. That’s HOT…Damn HOT.

H is for Hitachi Wand.  You know you’re in for a fun night when the lights flicker and dim as it is switched on. Now, that’s some powerful shit…Hello and HOWDY, Mr. Hitachi.

I is for Insatiable. To quote the late-great-Barry White…”My darling..I can’t get enough of your love baby”  (Sing it to yourself in his baritone and you’ll totally get it)

J is for Jesus.  Not trying to be funny here…but I guarantee I say His name about 100 times in the midst of a kinky weekend.  Just sayin’.  As God is my witness…

K is for Know thyself.  To set boundaries and establish limits, one must know who they are.  K is also for Kink.  And lots of it.  Go big or go home.

L is for Little.  It’s a wonderful place to be…sometimes stocked with glitter and rainbows…It can also stand for Love.  Lust.  Lustful.  Lusting after…

M is for Masochism.  The sheer pleasure from pain. Mouth-watering smacks on the ass that Melt. My Master is a master at this…More, please.

N is for Nipple clamps.  These implements demand upright attention.  And there is something so Naughty about having someone tug on your chain.  State of Nirvana guaranteed…

O is for OH MY GOD…Orgasms.  Preferably lots of them.  Sometimes they are denied, but when allowed…they are Overwhelming.  Oh..my.

P is for Paddle.  Ah, the precise Pain from the use of a Proper Paddle. It’s Penetrating.

Q is for Quiche.  In order to do all of this kinkery…one must eventually eat to keep one’s strength up.  On a side note..real men do eat quiche and they also eat pussy for that matter. So eat the fucking quiche already.  You already know what’s for dessert.

R is for Rope.  Japanese silk.  Jute.  Nylon.  Regardless of the material, it’s the technique that counts, Scout’s honor.

S is for Safe and Sane.  It’s the Sadists out there you have to watch out for, you know.  Sluts beware.

T is for Talk.  “I am your dirty whore from way back, Daddy.” I fucking love to Talk dirty during hot, carnal sex.  Although I don’t always get to say much when his cock is halfway down my Throat.

U is for Use Me.  Analogy:  What “good girl” is…when spoken to me…”Use me” is…when I say it.  It’s global warming, climate-changing dialogue that turns me into a dripping mess…as I anticipate the Unspeakable things awaiting me.

V is for Vibrators.  Be mindful of the friendly Vibrator packaged as a personal massager…it’s certain to Violate you in ways unfathomable…such Vigor.

W is for Wet. Here it is used in a sentence.  Whips and Wartenburg Wheels make me Wet. Weally…Weally…WET.

X is for, you guessed it…X-RATED.  Once again…my humble and submissive opinion.  Handle your business in the bedroom (or wherever it may be for the Exhibitionists) and act like you are making an XXX rated movie.  Crank it up a notch whether or not the camera’s rolling.  Or whether or not you know it’s there….

Y is for Yours.  It is about belonging to your One.  It should be said frequently.  It’s a powerful statement.  Practice with me, “I am YOURS.”  Say it loud.  Say it proud.  You know who You are.

Z is for Zen.  We, subbies out there refer to this as “subspace” which is a state achieved when you lose all conscious awareness and rely on the sublime feeling of pure ecstasy as you float in the moment.  It is heaven on earth.  ZEN….Namaste…hey…hey…hey

So I will close with this…

Down and dirty and downright flirty, this little post is meant to amuse those who use those

For their pleasure, with a feather or even paddled and likely straddled.

Some like it hot and some like it cold.  Some want them young.  And some want them old.

Some crave the pain while others like to restrain.  Some prefer the view from the top as they wield their crop to their unsuspecting bottoms’ bottoms…

Waiting to hear that first “POP”

But it’s all in good fun, for now I must run.  The wheel calls my name in decibels of pain.

Waiting for “good girl” to drip from his lips as I arch my back and hips and spread my thighs, I watch his eyes and I hear my sighs ring out into night’s sky…

I recite in my head as I approach the first O…

Oh The Places You’ll Go.  And Go.  And Go. And Go.

Oh the places

Happy Birthday, Dr. Seuss…

 

 

Joy, Pain, and Minnie Pearl

Where were we?  Oh that’s right…we just finished up Saturday.

Maestro conducted a full orchestra throughout the weekend.  By the time Sunday rolled around (we affectionately call Sunday, Subday around here) I was soft putty in his hands.  Honestly, he could look at me and evoke a reaction.  Every nerve in my body longed for his touch and I found myself, once again, sequestered to the bed.

Under his spell.

He held me captive for hours delivering immense pleasure as only he can.  I love that he keeps a close check on my needs.  He got up and brought me some water, but paused before returning to the bed.

He rummaged through our bag of tricks and I was once again redirected…this time to keep my eyes closed.  He came back to the bed and put my collar on.  The collar that has his affectionate pet name for me (SLUT) in silver on the front.  Once I have that on, I find that any inhibitions I may have are erased from my being.

“I didn’t tell you to open your eyes.  Now close them, my dirty little slut”

Damn…he has a way with words…

I could hear him open something…like a cap.  I realized it was the tube of lubricant in the bag.  I wondered what would come next…

I readied myself.  I could feel him looking at me.

“Open your eyes.”

I opened them and saw that he’d selected a new item from our collection.  He was holding the new anal plug I’d ordered.  He wanted me to see it.  He wanted me to know what was in store for me.

It is a bit imposing, I must admit.  Have you ever ordered too much in a restaurant, only to realize that your eyes were bigger than your stomach?

In this case, my eyes were bigger than my ass…

I had a slight bit of fear pulsating through my veins as I watched him position me, ready me for this session of play.  I knew it would be intense, but I welcomed the opportunity to push more limits…and as I pondered this limit-pushing…

Maestro slowly pushed the tip of the plug inside me.

(Here’s a bit of trivia for you folks at home…I have named it Minnie Pearl, because when it goes in it makes me want to say….”HOWDY!”)

He continued to push further in….slowly…checking to see if I was okay.  And I was.  I was really okay.  It was wonderful.  I wanted it deeper…and Maestro obliged.  Once fully engaged, he took out another trick from the bag…

The riding crop.

He taunted me with it…rubbing my back with the tip.  Gliding over my legs and circling my backside.  He walked around me, surveying his best angle and then he delivered the first blow on my upper right cheek.

Such a sweet combination…the sting of the crop caused me to flinch, enhancing the depth of the plug.  He continued to find targets all over my bottom and was quick in his work.  I found myself close the edge when introduced the crop’s cousin…

The flogger.

Maestro is a professional when it comes to flogging.  He knows the exact force to use, the best places to strike, and the perfect rhythm and I found myself over the edge with Minnie in tow, before I could say Chuck Norris.

Then he began to alternate the crop and flogger and things became very intense.  I could feel my back warming from the sensations and I wanted more.  Being the adept Master he is, Maestro obliged and brought me to oblivion with swift precision.  I ended up in subspace once again and found myself joyously laughing from the experience.

Once I was back from the clouds and onto the bed…Maestro had another implement pulled from the bag (the never ending bag…reminds of Mary Poppins’ carpetbag…what else could possibly be in there). This time I was not allowed to open my eyes and felt the sharp sting of something metal…

The Wartenberg Pinwheel…or as I now call it, the Wheel of Fortune.  He started on the bottom of my right foot and came all the way up the back of my leg, across my reddened bottom, up my back and back down the other side…when he arrived at my left cheek, I began to laugh uncontrollably.  The sensation was unlike anything I’d felt before and I LOVED IT!  I felt the sensation of pain from the sharp points on my ass, but the feeling was more like a relentless tickle.  Maestro loved hearing me laugh and he tortured me with the wheel and his nimble fingers until I could take no more and I ventured into subspace again.

For those of you at home, keeping score…yes, that was twice in one day.

At this point, I wanted nothing more than to pleasure him.  He had given me an afternoon of hedonistic delight and it was my turn.  I love when he watches me take him deep in my mouth.  I love hearing him moan.  I love it when he talks explicitly dirty to me.

And I love the prize I receive when I bring him over the edge.

After all of the fun, I collapsed in his embrace and we woke up just in the nick of time.  The babysitter was due back any minute with the kids and everything was a mess…the room…the bed…and especially me.  We gathered everything up in the room…straightened the bed and hopped in the shower in record time and were ready to greet the kids as they came in the door.

Sigh….

What a perfect “Subday” Sunday…