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….

 

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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…

 

 

Shine On…

This is one of my favorite Pink Floyd songs…

And in my humble opinion, her cover does it justice.

“Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light.
Shine on you crazy diamond.”

Aren’t we all exposed in the light?

Take a minute and listen to this…it IS worth your time.

SHINE ON…

Getting to the Point (Bond-part 2)

 

Disclaimer: Like the one before, this post may be too intense for some readers, especially those who do not subscribe to the lifestyle. Use caution before reading.

Now on with it….

Bond and I were about to explore limits with knife play. Here’s where we left off:

“Are you ready to test your limits, little girl?”

Am I ready?  Really ready?

Please note, readers:  Rational thinking should really kick-in at this point. The sound of the little voice that says, “this is crazy…get out before it’s too late” should be deafening.

Instead in my own voice, I confidently said, “Yes, Sir”

I had my back turned towards Bond.  He wrapped his arms around me from behind in a very affectionate embrace.  He slowly ran the point of the knife up my left thigh, applying some pressure, but not breaking the skin.  He traced a line on both of my legs and up stomach, up further and further.  He circled my breasts and traced my spine.  It was not painful, but I could feel the point of the imposing knife.

Which brings me to my point.

In this session of play, it was not about pain, but rather the intensity.  It was the taboo of playing with sharp and dangerous objects.  The fear of being cut.  And most of all, it was about trusting Bond.  I realized at this “point” that what I crave along with fear is the ability to trust.

Enlightenment.  (I should really be able to get this type of thing (fear/trust) from a company-paid ropes course, but this is far more fun)

We carried on with our evening.  Bond was a very experienced Dom.  I initially thought of him as a pain Dom, a sadist, a cruel bastard.  I realized as we went further, that he was more of a blend.  He craved my response.  That was his drug.  He was part sensual Dom.

Once again, Enlightenment.

Mr. Bond continued to test my limits and delivered pleasure beyond anything I’d ever experienced before.  And although I ventured into the session with a distaste for bondage, Bond helped me understand it’s purpose.  Sometimes the intensity and release would become too much.  It was too good to experience.  It was beyond my threshold.  Had I not been restrained, I would have tried to escape.  I would not have allowed myself to go that far.  To be that consumed with pleasure.

Bond took me there.  Somewhere….where no one has gone before.

There’s really not much you can do to resist, when your legs are tied.  Your wrists are cuffed and tied behind your back.  It is a feeling of helplessness.  You must be able to fully and completely trust your Dom.  That’s the mental part of submission.  It is born out of the restraint.

In between play time, we talked at length about different things.  Our vanilla lives.  Our dark desires.  Our struggles to blend the two worlds.  (He was adept at the blend, it’s me who struggles)

Mr. Bond explained to me that I had a strong personality. Trust me, I’ve heard this before.  He went on to say that because of my dominance in my vanilla life that I try “topping from the bottom”.  This means I try to “control” the situation from my submissive role.  And if I truly wanted to submit, I had to let go of all control.

Which is precisely what I did.  We carried on for hours.  Testing limits.  Giving and receiving pleasure.  Talking.  Playing.  And being intimate and close, the scariest part for me.  But I took Bond’s instruction and let go.  I deliberately gave away control.

I gave it all to him.  As an offering.

To be continued….sog - Copy

 

Feeling Good…(Bond part 1)

Oh freedom is mine
And I know how I feel

It’s a new dawn
It’s a new day
It’s a new life
For me

(Cliché alert)

“What a difference a day makes”

I am struggling to write this post.  There is so much I want to share about my experience with Mr. Bond.  I am different person today than I was yesterday.  I am changed.  Changed by this encounter.

In many ways, I am free.

Warning:  This post is long and in no way will do the evening the justice it deserves.

Disclaimer: This post may be too intense for some readers, especially those who do not subscribe to the lifestyle. Use caution before reading further.  You have been warned….

Here goes:

Waking up yesterday morning I was already high on adrenaline.  Almost drunk, but focused on preparing for the evening.  So anxious.  So excited.  So nervous.

So READY for Bond.

I arrived at the hotel just in time to get ready.  I meticulously unpacked my suitcase, hanging the dresses I brought in the closet.  I placed my toiletries on the bathroom counter.  I stocked the refrigerator with bottles of water.  I became familiar with my surroundings.

I texted Mr. Bond to let him know I had arrived and began to prepare myself for the evening.

It was nice to take a long shower, a rare treat for me with work and kids.

I readied myself.  Remember, he requested that I wear a dress, heels, red lips and toes.  No underwear.

I decided to break the rules right out of the gate, and I put on my favorite pair of lacy panties.

Nothing like a disobedient sub.

He instructed me to go to the bar and have a couple of drinks.  I complied.  The bar was almost empty.  I was really overdressed for such a place.  Nervous about what would happen next, I quickly drank the 3 Ketel One Cape Cods I ordered.

I received a text: “I am at the room”

He’s here….OMG

Me:  “Cashing out.  Be there in just a minute”

Bond: “Bring your drink with you.  Come now”

Of course the bartender was beyond slow, delaying me further.  Doesn’t she know I will get in trouble if I’m late???

I stepped off of the elevator and began walking towards the room.  It was a suite at the very end of a long hallway.  In front of the door stood Bond, watching me walk towards him.

Keep in mind, I had just consumed 3 (that is three, Roman numerals III) very strong drinks moments before.  Walking with purpose was a bit of a challenge.  But once I saw him, I was in the zone.

(And note, beside him was a large imposing, square black duffel bag….Pandora’s Box)

Here I come, Bond.  I am coming for you.

We exchanged friendly banter as I descended down the corridor.  I felt an instant connection.  He was as handsome as his photo and very friendly.  I immediately felt at ease.

I put the card in the door and as I opened it, Bond gave me a grin.

A sadistic grin.

He wrapped his arm around my throat and forced me into the room, careful not to allow my face to hit the wall.  He was behind me, pinning me to the wall.

His breath was warm in my ear.  His voice was direct as he whispered, “Don’t you ever fucking make me wait for you, little girl.  Do you understand me?”

I managed to muster an answer, “Yes.”

He pinned me harder to the wall, “Yes, what?”

I know better.  I was so shocked by the pinning, that I forgot my manners.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl”

We kissed.  He was an excellent kisser and I became comfortable again.  He surveyed my outfit to ensure I had followed instructions.

Oh crap…I had willfully disobeyed him.  It’s on.  I am in trouble.

“You look very nice tonight.  You are really a beautiful woman.”

“Thanks, Sir”

He kissed me again and reached up my dress.

I’m in for it now….

He discovered the panties.

“Why are you wearing panties?”

I decided in a flash not to tell him I’d intentionally worn them, fearing my punishment.

“I thought you wanted me to wear panties”

His voice was stern, “There is no, ‘I thought’ little girl.  You either understand your instructions or not.  You told me you understood them, did you not?”

“Yes, Sir.  I am sorry, Sir.”

He then bent me over the table and ripped them off, exposing my backside to him.  I knew what was coming next.

“You did something you weren’t supposed to do, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

His hand was swift and precise across my backside.  Followed by another and another.  All in the same place.

I cried out.  The sting was intense.

“You’ve taken your punishment like a good girl.  Remember, you must obey me.”  He turned me to face him.  My eyes were slightly welled-up from the sting of his hand.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you will obey me.”

“Sir, I will obey you.”  I peered into his kind eyes, trying to see if I could predict what was coming next.

“Good girl, now take off your dress.  Leave your heels on.”

I quickly complied.  As I was following orders, I caught a glimpse of the bag.  Pandora’s Box.  He saw me look at it and he walked over and unzipped it slowly before flinging it open.

“I’ve got lots of things in here for you.”

Oh shit.  Now I am nervous.

I stood in front of him.  Naked.  Vulnerable.  He could sense that I was uneasy.

He took my face in his hands and kissed me.  He then turned me around and guided my hands down on the coffee table.

Now I was really vulnerable.  Exposed to him.

He began rummaging through his box of tricks.  He clearly had an object in mind.

I tried to look back to see what he was doing.

“Turn around.  Keep your hands on the table.”

He’s on to me.  I better obey.

“How does if feel to be exposed to me like this?”  he asked.  I pondered my response.

“I feel vulnerable, Sir.”

“Good girl.  You have to be honest with me for me to push your limits.”

Limits?  What is coming next?

He rummaged some more.  I then heard him plug something in.  I heard the humming sound of a motor.

He rummaged again.  The suspense was exciting.

I heard something metal…but it didn’t sound like a knife, it sounded like keys.

Keys?  What would he do with keys?

Then I heard it…I couldn’t mistake for anything else.

It was the sound of a blade being opened.  He opened it and closed it.

Then he did it again.

Bond had a knife.  And he wasn’t afraid to use it.

He placed it on the coffee table in front of me.

Before I could even react to the knife, I felt his hand over mine.  He told me to get on my knees and face him.

He was sitting on the couch behind me and on my knees I turned to face him.

He took my hand and placed a leather cuff on it, fitting it snugly, but not too tight.  He then pulled out a small lock and secured the cuff to my wrist.

A lock?  Are you kidding me?

With careful detail, he repeated the ritual with my other wrist.  All the while making eye contact with me.

Facing him he explained the rules to me.

“I own you right now.  Do you understand that?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You are not allowed to cum unless I say you can.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.  That may be hard for me at first, but I will do my best.”

“Good girl you will obey”

He was swift in his work.  He quickly brought me to the edge over and over again.  Finally I begged for release.

“Sir, can I please?  Please, Sir.  Let me…”

“Hold it for me, not yet.” His voice was direct.

It was agony and he knew it.  It was his way of conditioning me to do his will.  I was high on the experience.  It was unlike anything I’d experienced before.

Finally I was allowed to let go.  It was intense and euphoric.  I almost forgot about the leather cuffs on my wrists and the knife on the table.

Bond had not forgotten.

He told me to retrieve a towel from the bathroom.  When I got up to walk to the bathroom, he quipped, “No.  I want you to crawl to the bathroom.  I want to watch you.”

How sexy.  I still had my heels on.

I crawled slowly to the bathroom and picked up a towel.  To add to the atmosphere, I decided to bring it back in my mouth.

Mr. Bond liked this.  So submissive.

Upon returning to the table (let’s call it an altar) I noticed that the knife was missing.

Is the towel in case I bleed?

And then I heard it…the undeniable sound of him switching the knife open.

Mr. Bond was about the cut the ties that held me back all these years.

To be continued…

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