Just Took His Hand

Moves fingers, gets mind working...been a long, long time and not sure about doing this but also sort of want to write something down.

Blogs are odd things. In a way it's just like keeping a journal. Except that it isn't private. Sometimes complete strangers read it. And what is so odd about it all is that I must feel that these written thoughts about just a tiny piece of life are so verrry worth sharing. I don't think they really are but putting some things "out there" quench a little of the exhibitionist in me same as reading blogs of others helps satisfy a voyeuristic urge I have.

Maybe this formation, this integration, this self understanding quest isn't such a tiny piece of life after all. I do tend to minimize things sometimes to deflect.... sort of like a shrug I suppose. Sort of like a passive-aggressive attention getter deflection shrug even (need another day to unravel that one). But because the blog started out as a place to put my thoughts as I tried to integrate two distinctly separate parts of my life into something that would work well overall, and because I think that goal has been accomplished somewhat, maybe it's time to go another round.

So, here I am with a wonderful dominant man I have known for 5 years, been so very drawn to, but never submitted to, until now, who has patiently listened to my crappy stuff about everything for all that time and also to all of the joy filled parts of life, and when he held out his hand I took hold saying yes, it's time now, isn't it, he nodded yes and I am so very glad. This is the journey of my growth under the guidance of man I respect and adore, who is a well respected member of his lifestyle community, a dominant man who has made me a part of him, and who has brought me into his family life, allowing me to serve him and my alpha sub sister as his beta. I love being in this place.

Daddy Said..

No more emptiness, you've had enough of that.

Work in Progress

My husband told me of an announcement made by a friend of his... that his wife has 2 little babies growing in her belly and how overcome with emotion the man was at telling the good news.

He and I both know how much we missed this joy for us because he could not step outside of his alcoholic selfishness long enough to enjoy the awesome creation of a new life. And at that time I could not risk challenging him because I was afraid... not of being physically hurt, but of not knowing what was "right".

He loves his boys. They have wonderful relationships. Even though it's sad for us both to remember how relationally sick we were back then we now have victory in healing. Life is so much better now. I know my husband's thoughts drifted back over these old memories as he told me the good news about his friend. I could sense his heart opening to feel more and I was opening to feel as well.

We talked as I continued to pull up the stray bits of grass that were growing between the rocks in the garden. I told my husband that an older woman I work with was at the hospital yesterday with her son, daughter-in-law and her parents, and the little 3 year old grandchild awaiting the arrival of baby #2 into their family by C-Section. The older sister of the new dad-to-be was coming in with her oldest daughter to see the new baby and to give the new mommy a rose.

My tears started as I told him this story because when my second baby was born C-Section over 20 years ago, my parents did not come to the hospital for the delivery nor did they come during my five day recuperation. My mother did not come and help me after the birth even though she lived only five miles away. And I knew that she would be so angry with me, would lash out with her stinging words and withhold her love from me if my mother-in-law came to help.

At first I wasn't going to say anything and bring up this old history because the past cannot be changed. We can only learn from it and move forward in a healthier way. But... because I know how this deep hurt has affected other relationships, I had to risk and tell him.... intimacy, transparency, said in love, not accusatory.... So I continued....

I told him that because I was so afraid of my mother's anger and withholding of her "love" as her control over me I wasn't able to accept my mother-in-law's love and help at the time of the birth of our children. I had to be "loyal" to my own mother before others. That I was so sorry, that I didn't know what was going on at that time, that I'd been indoctrinated to avoid her wrath from the time I was very small and I knew only that if I accepted the love and help of my mother-in-law, I would "loose love and gain wrath" from my own mother. I was controlled by fear. I'd been "taught" to not trust in my own feelings and instincts so I was afraid of what might happen. The fear of what I imagined i'd loose seemed greater than any gain that I could see.

My head was bowed in such shame. Tears flowing. My husband walked over to me as I cried and he cried and held me until I could stop.

And so I asked if my own mother didn't want to be with me then why would anybody else want to be with me? If she didn't want to be with me why wouldn't she let me go?

She was sick, he said, caught up in her own selfishness and alcoholic sickness.

He's right. Somehow we raised two exceptional young men. So emotionally healthy. How did we do that?

He said "because you poured into them all the love and understanding you never got".

Maybe this is a key to why I am so submissive today. Maybe some submissives are emotionally damaged women who were stripped of the instictive ability to trust their own choices and therefore look for the iron grip of a Dominant so we know what to do and know we are wanted. I dunno. Maybe we just need to be loved and accepted .

But submissive or not, I know that the dysfunctional dynamic that was between my mother and I prevents me at times, even now, from believing that anyone besides my immediate family really wants to spend time with me when they could be doing something else. It makes me needy and standoffish at the same time and why I can't trust easily. I'm a work in progress, just like a recovering addict....

Perspective Heals

i'm doing well. Things are sorting out. my former Master has been walking this release with me as the adjustment is huge for Him as well. He's set some boundaries which i respect. i respect a man who follows through. And it's all good.

There is no anger. There are many, many wonderful memories that still make me smile and laugh aloud. He and i have laughed together over many. It is His way of showing me the positive side rather than dwelling on the loss.

There is sadness because He and i had become very close and very much a part of one another's lives. i miss that. So does He. And because of that very intensity and depth our relationship had to end.

To new beginnings!

Released

Last night i was released.

He said i was restless and i am. i haven't been asked or tasked for months. i think he is also restless... and has been for months now. He needs variety, new experiences. i think i actually bored him with sameness. i tried, i really tried to please him and to serve him but it just needs to be two together working toward a goal and i guess it wasn't.

So, time to sit back and see what happens next. Never know when a door will open.

Embrace and Surrender

Birthdays, holidays, milestones such as these are sometimes a little bit bumpy for some people and i guess i'm one of those people. As much as i love the celebrations there is tension and emotion and, in the past years for me, perhaps too much inward focus. Baaaaad habit, that! When there is too much inward focus there is the pitfall of living without optimism. Another bad habit. i think it's the ego talking tho, that "all about me", and that is what i'm trying to shed so i got over it pretty quickly, thankfully, by remembering that i am here to serve and not to be served... i'm not talking about a hard clit experience here... talking about giving up the ego in order to live in the midst of life rather than looking on from "above". It's about living in the moment and treasuring. And seeing that the others are here on this earth to do the same.

My dad has had one of those illnesses that last for years and gradually, oh so slowly, takes one's life. We are looking at his last weeks or days now and how honored i am to be walking with him on this journey. What a sweet man he is. So peaceful and so gentle.

i had a comment on the last post ... isn't it great to get feedback that causes one to think some more.... about the soul mate coming when we stop working it so hard. Agree. Again it is a matter of letting that piece find us as we embrace what we have going right now. Being observant, watchful, thoughtful, but not controlling. Just submitting.

Something Goin' On Here

Today is my birthday. I am almost officially in my mid fifties.

And one thing i can say about myself is that i don't always see the obvious as i walk the path. i construct my own reality and eventually it disappears as tho made of sand that filters through the fingers. i offer up this song for the season, and credit CSN&Y. Perhaps the light of this new day will show me a new way.

It's been a long time comin'
It's goin' to be a long time gone.

Appears to be a long time,
Yes, a long, long, long time
Before the dawn.

Turn, turn any corner.
Hear, you must hear what the people say,
You know there's something that's goin' on here,
That surely, surely, surely won't stand the light of day.

And it appears to be a long,Such a long, long, long time before the dawn.

It's been a long time comin',
It's been a long time gone.
But you know the darkest hour,
Is always just before the dawn.

And it appears to be a long time,
Such a long, long, long time before the dawn.

Obey the Cock

my nipple is so stiff. i'm on my back in my white bed and the palm of my hand rests along the side of my breast while i circle that long, stiff nub with my middle finger. It's so hard, so elongated. And as i focus on how hard and swollen it it, the other nipple hardens as if to keep up. i drag the finger down the side of my body to my pussy and feel the soft week-long growth of hair and shiver as i think of you.

i've been thinking about how badly i want to please you and torment you just as you torment me. About how i crave you. You've created an ache in me that, at times, overwhelms all other thought and feeling.

i think about how you tied my hands above my head and further tied them to the hook fastened in the wooden rafter overhead and how you made sure that i had to remain up on my toes.... easier for you to get me to move in response to your deliciously torturous touches, you've told me.

When we are together my senses are attuned to your every move, your every breath, your every word.... my mind races as it tries to anticipate you so that i can try to tease you back just as you tease me. You are near me now, your voice at my ear sending shivers down your slut's body, your slut i am, god how i love belonging to you ....and my mouth is open because my breathing comes so hard and ragged. You are so close to me and i need you more, i need to taste you and i turn my head just enough. You must feel my breath on your neck now, Master, and i bite your earlobe -- hard -- hard enough to make your breathing stutter and i don't let go until i hear your low chuckle. "girl", you say, "My girl". i release my grip on you but you linger just a few seconds and i taste the salt of your skin as my tongue laps down along your jawline and i feel your pulse under my lips at the base of your neck.

This dance of ours has gone on for an hour or more, this tease, this mutual seduction. You drive me to the very edge of want as i tease back.

Silence now as you pull away. Breathing in, breathing out, seconds passing, minutes gone by.

i feel you close again now. Your cock is hard. i can feel it pushing its way between my ass cheeks. You've bent me at the waist just a little and your cock is between my legs now pushing in and i feel you pulling it out along my slippery pussy lips and the pushing it back, pulling it out, pushing it back.

You've trained me to see your cock when my eyes close and in my dark place i see it in front of me. I must, must open my mouth to accept the cock but at the same time i feel you fucking my slippery slit. Your cock, how i crave it. Your fingers violently fuck my mouth while you pull my head back by the hair.

"What is it that you need, girl", you say.

Your cock.

"Yes, my cock. What do you crave, my girl?"

Your cock.

"Whose slut are you?"

Yours, Sir.

"What do you obey, girl?"

Your cock.

"What do you want girl?"

Cock, Master.

"Whose cock?"

Master's cock, please, please Master may i have Your cock.

Your hand twists my hair even tighter and i choke on the saliva that has accumulated in my mouth and is dripping down my tits and onto the floor. You move in front of me while releasing my hands from the hook overhead. Disoriented i fall to my knees in front of you and you take me.... using my mouth. And i obey the cock.

SUGASM #150

October 11th, 2008 by Vixen Last modified: October 11th, 2008
1 comment

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #151? Submit a link to your best post of the week by emailing me directly at radicalvixenatgmaildotcom Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks

Stolen Time
“The sigh of a kiss that has been too long waiting is a wicked rush.”

Keeping things hot when everything hurts
“While it’s not as fun for him, what I love about those times is how sexy he makes me feel at a time when I probably feel the most worthless as a lover.”

Like lovers do…
“As soon as I got that groove, he felt it. His body started to tense up and tremble.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself

Sugar Bank

Editor’s Choice

At What Point Have You Crossed The Line?
More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

Sex News, Reviews, & Interviews
Catalina loves Sgt. Major from Backdoor Bondage and Kink.com
Click Foreplay
The End of the Sex Writer?
Lust Objectified: Lelo’s Lily Vibe
Sex News Roundup

Sex Work
20 Questions With Janet Jacme
Busy Busy Busy

Erotic Writing and Experiences
Backward (One)
The Five Twenties - The Fifth Twenty
i Kissed a Girl
The love for guys in uniform
Natalie Gets Laid
A Night to Remember, ft. Mariella and VibeReview
Talk Dirty To Me
Will you suck it?
Your Gorgeous Polish Girlfriend Won’t Pose Just How You Imagined

NSFW Pics, Videos & Audio
Boymeat’s Boots
HNT: Lucky Heather 2
Kelly Zhang (Met Art)
Radka - OJ

Sex & Politics
Do BDSM and McCain Go Together Like Vinegar and Oil?
Invasion

BDSM & Fetish
3 days
Punished in the school gym
Sex Camp 2008: The Petting Zoo!
slut to the Mailbox ….. This Morning’s Task as Accomplished
Someplace I’ve never been, part 2

Sex Advice
Man-Handles: What to Do with His Nipples?
Sadie’s Advice for Craigslist Dating. Confession #151

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
Can Group Sex Get Your Man to Clean the House?
Channeling Jessica Rabbit
How I started paying for sex
Present Genitive
Seven Daily Sins: LustTrust

slut to the Mailbox ..... This Morning's Task as Accomplished

i stood next to the mail box, envelope in hand. It had been with me for a long while now as a physical reminder of my service to Master and i didn't really want to let it go. In it was the cunt smeared lipstick blotted tissue that Master had me make for Him one night weeks ago. The Domme looked on as i worked to please Master by outlining my dark pink cunt lips in red lipstick to match the full red lips of my mouth. It was a method of seducing the Domme; the seduction of Her was His goal and by His use of me i became part of His plan.

And now this pussy scented tissue had become part of a plan to continue the seduction of another.... this time, a young, sensuous submissive girl. "My girl" He said to me, "Where is your special envelope? I want you to show this young girl what a slut you are. There it is, thank you, My girl."

In my hand that night was this same mossy green envelope made of beautiful slightly textured paper that had withstood the countless openings as i would look inside it again and again to see what i had made for Master and i kept it and i looked at it and held it because the act of making it had pleased Him so.

This passion, this craving to know that i continue to have meaning to Master, that i continue to have a purpose, that i continue to be a girl He chooses to use drives me to a state of craving that is barely understandable to me. i hate it and i lust after it and i love it and i crave it as a need. What is there to do but to keep coming back, keep coming back until the day comes when He tells me to go.

So i took the red smeared musky scented tissue out to show the little slut and i saw her responding in the way that sluts do when the lust wave radiates through a cunt's pussy. "Now you will mail that to her tomorrow, girl, and freshen it up for her, too, won't you?"

As Master and i talked this morning His voice and my craving need of Him made me wetter and wetter and i wiped the folded tissue again and again around the opening of my slippery cunt. Master told me what to write on my note paper, you know, the message and the gift was from Him, not from me, and all the while i wondered if the little slut would think the blue edge around the mossy green was pretty because it's the color of her eyes.

Addressed, stamped and sealed i stood on the sidewalk in front of the post office making a decision as to whether i should go inside and drop it in the slot there? Or just drop it in the sidewalk box. i turned it over in my hand. The sealed edge was a bit crumpled. Well sealed but crumpled and i raised the envelope to my face so i could smell myself on it one more time. i felt the roughness of the seal as my thumb traced along the V shaped flap. And my pussy throbs even now knowing that the envelope was not sealed by my wet tongue but by wet, wanton slutty cunt lips.

The sidewalk box received Master's note card because that was my choice to make. i didn't want to know that the postal workers i have come to know inside would be handling my pussy juices. But if Master had told me to hand it to the worker behind the counter, i would have.

xoxo

Your girl, mission accomplished

And now it's about 24 hours later. i have realized, yet again, that my purpose is in serving Him, not the other way around. But the reward comes around.

i hate the passion --not sexual passion i speak of here, it is the passion that makes me hurt so much when i feel (... insert self centered word here, pick one ....) because i have forgotten that i'm His in the way He chooses .... UGH what a baby i am, godDAMmit ... because that is my ego speaking. That is me wanting to drive. That is the "old me" or even the "cultural me, vanilla me" speaking. But then i really don't hate it or hate my submissiveness at all when i listen to the servant heart inside of me and accept her. i just hate how i react. Thus, formation.

For example, it is very unlikely that Master will even read this. He rarely does read what i write and if He does, He certainly doesn't read my stuff when i want Him to (will i EVER get this??). Yet, that is also what drives my need to serve Him because His ownership of me fits so well with my need to be owned. He is stronger than i am and i have never found a chink in that strength, as hard as i try, i cannot. There is no negotiation. i chose to be His and choose again and again. Sometimes it hurts when i forget my place and there are days of struggle ahead getting set right again. But it is my choice to be with Master as long as He will have me.

i also realized this today as i was going about the service in my household and that is this... i am not merely a quickie seduction object for Him. Those come a dime a dozen. What i hope i am, and what i can only surmize that i am to Him is that i am just simply there for Him. To meet any need He desires.

Enough for one day.

Ready

i'm ready to come back.

The new baseline is from a place that does not necessarily involve erotica, or sex, or titillation.

This new baseline is from a place of service for the sake of service. Deep and effortless servitude, working at being an example of self-discipline, recognizing my status as that of a girl who places others before me. Developing a will to obey is my hope and that out of this humility my level of obedience will grow and grow.

---- first becoming nothing, and then becoming all ----

It is my hope that, in my strength and in my work, this will be accomplished.

Place

Master says i don't know my place.

He's right.

I've lost it.

Why and when did that happen?

Was it because He didn't tend the garden or because i didn't?

Decending Again

i'm not exactly sure what is happening. Or maybe i do. At the simplest, i am just simply tired of this. Tired of the online silliness of the shallow praise given by horny net geeks. ooooo crys, nice chest, ooooo crys, wow wow, ooooo crys i watch you all the time, oooooo crys,.,.... whatever they think will work to get boobs flashed or cunt spread. What a load of shit.

Wanting to do a good job at something for real praise but not having anything to do ..... oh wait .... oh yes, the showing up and sitting with a plastic smile on my face if the real heart isn't in it, best use the plastic smile.... looking like a fucking senior picture from the yearbook while laughing at the appropriate times and being witty and FUN FUN. Can't forget FUN. i am so sick of this. So sick of the shallowness of it all. The temporary nature of it just sucks because it holds so little of any worth. It's all in the head. All in the mind. Pretend.

And what i want is it to matter.

Closing Up Shop -- Going on "Holiday"

I'll be closing up shop soon. I've been on a "permissions only" status for a couple of days now. It was very touching to hear that people actually read this blog and even more touching to know that some have wondered why my blog went to password only. Short answer? I'm going on holiday meaning I'm just ready to take a break. I'll be the only one to have permission because I'm not ready to delete all this stuff but don't want to share it anymore either.

I have decided to stop blogging for a while as it's become like a tail attempting to wag me ;). I tend to start thinking about numbers and when they climb my ego comes in and then I want to write things to get even more readers. That can't be why I write. I'm not really sure why I write but I am sure that writing for numbers is not the best path for me. I have no less than four posts in draft form, all "Dear Master" types of entries that are pretty much blubbering bullshit to anyone but me. So in draft they will stay because the healing came in the writing, not in the sharing.

It does not feel good to me knowing that strangers are "getting off" on my stuff.... it used to charge me but now it just makes me feel yucky. I find that I can express just as well or better by writing personal e-mails to Master and that works best because I need to know that someone I care about hears me.

I've even toyed with the idea of posting erotic or even pornographic photos here and, really, the only reason would be to get attention. For me, it is attention that does me no good. Sex blogs, lifestyle blogs, pictures taken to entice a reaction or to get people to look and comment and masturbate over is a culture that is just not comfortable for me to read or to create.

Things are alright, though.... I'm mainly just really trying to figure out how to live as a submissive in a vanilla life without crossing the line.

It is Strength or Weakness, Health or Sickness?

A dear friend and i were at dinner one night this week. We do this about once a month and at some point during our dinners the talk always turns to our relationships. Usually we talk about sex, too, and i have shared with her about what she calls my "special needs" sexually.... BDSM. She understands bedroom and/or BDSM play but doesn't understand D/s.

We both spent many, many years married to verbally and emotionally abusive men as we raised our children. Each of us left those men with thoughts of never looking back and we each got help individually and as couples. Who knew that we women would find that we have voices and opinions and that those voices and opinions are important to be heard. Who knew that our spouses would finally get it too.

We were both submissive women too eager to please, too eager to accept another's --- anybody's --- unhealthy dominion over us, too easily sent to scramble to figure out where we miscommunicated when the shit would hit the fan. We just kept scrambling to tidy up all the loose ends because we were unable to fix that whole fabric of what was really wrong. We needed to find a voice and become healthy. For some reason we were just not willing to pack up the kids and run probably because the hurts were not visible and the abuse was done in secret. We felt that we wouldn't be believed by our children, parents or friends.

She and i were friends during much of this dysfunctional time and didn't know we were each living like this. Amazing, isn't it. But at a party one night she said something to me..... sort of a little slip that told me she was hurting.... and i invited her to dinner. At that dinner i told her my history and told her that i'd soon be moving away from my home, husband and young adult children because if i didn't i would most certainly die. And she then told me her story and we shook our heads in wonder that we'd never had the voice to share with one another or anyone else.

So at dinner the other night i began to talk about how comforting it is for me to have a person with strong broad shoulders on which to lay my burdens, how fulfilling it is to be able to completely surrender myself so as to meet another person's needs in service and how that makes me feel so complete, about how i feel there are some people in this world who love being the ones to take the burdens and make the decisions just as i love to give them up. Very simplified, yes, but about as far as i felt she could comprehend what are the beginnings of a power exchange type of relationship.

Her brows knit together as she said "That is just not healthy! Isn't it true that within a relationship, the person who is so controlling must learn to give up some of that control in order to learn to defer to others and the people who are so deferring must learn to take charge?"

Hummmmm. i wonder. i wonder if she is right. The pressure i put on myself to be "a good sub" may not be healthy. i went in a direction which was to find affirmation of who i am, a submissive person, and subsequently developed that understanding into a need and craving for that life. i pretty much found the choir that sang the virtues of D/s and joined in. Conversely, she went in the direction of the cultural understanding of mental health which is to teach a much more middle of the road approach that we call "vanilla". But i wonder if i got it right. Did i get on the bus that may not ultimately bring healing?

This is all so heavy on my mind and heart today because i am struggling with this awful feeling that i did the wrong thing with Master last night BUT i don't really think it was the wrong thing... the delivery was wrong but the message was not wrong. It's not a huge thing going on... i know we will talk it through eventually but this is the thing.... here i am feeling defensive like i used to feel when i tried but couldn't "speak up", or when i tried but couldn't "disagree" or when i just flat out got angry because i felt so powerless. This is not about BDSM, it is not about limits.

i used go over and over a situation that ended badly trying to see how i might have better explained myself, how i might have been more understanding of a position other than my own, how i should have been more patient, how i should have asked for help or more time or more information. But the thing is sometimes a negative outcome is not my fault.

Last night i was reduced... yes, reduced, to a shivering little pleaser submissive puppy dog of a woman and it doesn't feel right. It feels like i'm thrown off balance, like i can't trust my own instincts, like i will loose ground if i push my opinion. The patterns run so deep and here i am not knowing how to please and to have a voice at the same time... the fear of saying the "wrong" thing runs so deep.

The Pier

Edging.

my dress is made of a sleek finely knit jersey and the high waistline frames my breasts and allows the skirt to blow freely about my ass and thighs as i walk the length of the pier. No panties and no bra obstruct the availability to any who'd wish to enjoy.

The breeze is light but still noticeable by my nipples that are puckered and hard and straining against the bodice of the dress. i'm well aware that in this state of arousal my aureoles are bumpy and swollen and noticeable to any who view.

The need i have to spread my legs is strong. i pretend to be interested in the small bit of shell in the center of the long pier and i squat with the sole purpose of spreading my legs. The pink shimmery fragment on the wood plank gives me a target but i don't really need one, do i? i sometimes still hold on so tightly to the good girl who won't allow her bad girl to surface. Squatting i feel the lips of Master's cunt slowly separate.... the sticky fluids have dried and hold the edges together and as the lips spread the pleasure ripples through my body and i close my eyes and tilt my head back opening my mouth just barely as though ready to take a cock. Just a hole, just to be used, just to serve.

Standing now i move purposefully towards the end of the pier.... not so much to get to the end but to feel the slick lips rubbing and the wetness running. The railing is about elbows high so i rest my arms on it and my body stretches so that my ass is hiked outward. The breeze is blowing my dress between my legs and i know that my tits... Master's tits... are exposed to the nipple.

Then i hear Him. "My slut" is all He says. His hand rests on my ass and slowly traces down and his longest finger teases me thru the fabric. my breathing is shallow and rough.

As i edged to this fantasy, i felt myself there. i hear the gulls, i felt the hairs on my skin move as the breeze blew and i felt Master's deep voice travel through my body.

Meditation. i am ready to begin the meditation in service to Him, for in the practice of meditation i can so so easily go to Him any time He chooses and serve Him as completely as He sees fit.

Surrendering to Him, knowing that i serve Him, wanting only to feel Him in me and around me i trance easily. Today, for the first time, not only did i feel the pleasure that He gives but i felt His hands on me, using me like he loves to do. i felt his fingers sliding into His pussy and reaching for that sweet pleasure spot that is deep inside. Moans and shudders... holding on so tightly, feeling His every touch, each brush of His breath, each word He speaks. And then, the time is up.

Thank You for this gift, Master.

Work and Be Worked

i figured that the answer would be a simple "yes". Like the answers to most questions, though, it wasn't that simple. "Do you think it's natural for sexual energy to ebb and flow?" The answer was a "yes, but" and then "Yes, but sexual energy needs to be expanded."

i asked the question because i am concerned that i am not sexual enough. i know that my body is changing lots... some say that menopause changes a woman as much as puberty. Thankfully i still have the drive and the desire but at the same time it is just different somehow.

So what about this expanding the sexual energy idea? The meditations that Master fashioned for me are a primary way i keep in touch with my sexual feelings on a daily basis. i work hard on getting the mind and pussy working together with varying results. When it's great i can feel such pleasure deep within Master's pussy, tingles and strokes along my clit and moisture forming between my lips. When it's not so great my mind won't settle in on a mantra and it flits or drifts. So i started doing two 15 minute sessions a day to help train my mind to focus, focus, focus. Master also has me edging to keep the want growing. Today i wondered if maybe a bit of self loving the bod prior to meditation might help. Tomorrow i'll experiment. i just have to have faith that it all works for good and not obsess about easily getting or not getting the quick big "O".

So what i have come to understand about working and being worked makes so much sense. i need the work. i need the purpose. i crave it. Master knows that by putting this slut mind and body to work for His purposes gives me purpose. It's food for my spirit. And really for me it doesn't need to be sexual work for the results to make His pussy flow.... i'd serve Him in any way and i think it would be heaven.

Short Leash

One week ago i disappointed Master by my behavior. i knew better than to act the way i did but i went ahead and did "it" anyways. It wasn't a full 180 degree turn towards misbehavior but was more of a slippery slope i'd been on for a while and i just didn't know how to stop it on my own.

i don't think it's important that i reveal what i did or how Master set me straight but rest assured He did. i was a tearful, repentant, heartbroken mess in front of Him once i had confessed and realized that i had disappointed Him. He broke me. i was embarassed and humiliated. Master's pussy was dripping wet while at the same time i cried rivers of tears.

Never in my adult life had i been called out on the carpet and punished. Never. Reasons for never being punished might be because i would always make sure i did things pretty close to just right because to disappoint people in authority over me or who i cared deeply about made me feel awful. But i know i have not always done my best or done things correctly. Master is the first person, Dominant or vanilla, who has cared enough to take the time to see what was going on in my head and life and to put a stop to it in a way that was the most effective for me to learn.

i say effective because since He punished me, which includes the taking of a privilege, i feel so very cared for, so close to Him, so settled down in my spirit, and purposeful.

i don't know why it works the way it does. i'm just glad that it does. Thank You, Master. xoxoxo

Still Happily Serving

First of all, i would like to say that i deeply mourn the loss of FatBoy, my little cock dildo that i managed to bite into two pieces (i know, not a good thing at all). Master wanted "him/it" replaced right away and i couldn't fine another one because he was a unique lil fat thing. Instead i replaced him with an egg shaped plug that can't be bitten through but it's not the same. Finding a FatBoy, Jr. is on my to do list.

This has been the most beautiful spring and early summer i can remember. It's also been one of the busiest! Creative energies are being expended elsewhere and i don't seem to have the drive to blog as much as i do in the winter. It's natural, i suppose.

Master continues to draw me to Him and challenge and use me for His pleasure and the benefit is that i am so fulfilled in the process. We may not be in a position to fuck just now but His mind fuck is like nothing i've ever experienced! Through the meaningful work He has me do daily through my solo meditations and with our hypnotic scening done maybe a few times a month and with our nearly daily connecting otherwise and somehow, He can pretty much take me wherever He wants me to go and i feel as though i am there. Sometimes i focus so intently on His words that he can paint a picture during a conversation and for a short time i feel as though i am right there in that place. And because i am pretty good at describing what i see and feel, i can share it all with Him when He desires it so that we are drawn even closer and deeper into relationship.

i'm a lucky girl!

FetLife

Joined FetLife last night and found four new homes (groups) and hope to meet some new friends.

Two groups i am most excited about are the group for Doms and subs with vanilla spouses and the Mind Control Fetish Group.

bringing up slut

When i was maybe 2 or 3 my mother had to pull a little toy out from my pussy because i'd been playing in it during my naptime and the toy had gotten slippery, buried and stuck.

When i was about 5 i loved to take off my lacy panties and stand over the drain in the basement to pee in it.

When i was 9 i rubbed my pussy along the crossbar of my bike and ground it in, loving the feelings.

When i was 12, 13, 14, 15..... i would lay in my bed whenever i could with my pants off, legs spread, and sticking anything i could find into my needy pussy. i'd imagine that i was being watched and i'd orgasm.

When i was a teen i would lay under the water faucet in the bathtub and let the water run onto my clit until i'd cum. i didn't know what it was called but i wanted to do it again and again.

i would look at my wet pussy in the mirror and watch as i'd finger or insert things and watch as it changed color as it became swollen.

When i was 16 i went with some girls and boys to a loft apartment in the city. It was the home of one of the moms who was divorced and she was with her friends drinking wine. We drank some wine with them and then went to the upper level. i remember hands groping, feeling my wet pussy. The boy put my hand on his cock and he came all over my hands. i felt so guilty. One of the moms hugged me and said i'd be okay. She was right.

When i was about 18, my mother found some erotica in my brother's room. She was livid and threw in into the trash can. i went into the garage and i found it. It was a magazine filled with black and white images of a woman tied to a chair, her legs spread, her pubic hair was a large and thick triangle and her lips protruded just a bit. A man was standing over her. As i stood in the garage i reached under my dress and violently orgasmed when my finger touched my clit.

Is it any wonder that Master's pussy craves as it does?

Edging Cunt

Getting back to basics is getting to this girl's libido nicely.

Edging this morning hasn't been this intense in a long time.... my clit being so hard, Master's pussy so wet, then finding myself so wet makes me stroke wet fingers up and around my clit and then back to pussy for more. Again and again i approached orgasm and again and again i back away. i was a good slut for You, Master.

You know the effect anal beads have on Your girl. Ever since the day that You doubled my pleasure as each bead went into this ass i can't help but cream at the thought of them touching me. i didn't want to use gel, Master, not when Your cunt was so slippery so i slowly fucked myself with the beads and when the pleasure got high enough i stopped, pulled them out, and began to insert the girl cum covered beads into this ass, one at a time. With just one bead in i pulled the handle of the beads up along my slit to tease my clit more.

The pleasure was so exquisite this morning that i orgasmed as the fourth bead went in.

During the day at work i again wore Your shields, removed them with each bathroom visit and replaced them with clothes pins after admiring the pattern the shields leave on my areola. i'd start and stop my pee stream just to feel Your pussy working and i'd stroke my lovely little clitty before putting myself back together to get back to work.

i'm about to meditate now, Master. And edge some more. Or maybe i'll edge and then meditate. But i have to touch, have to touch.

Back to Basics

Master, today feels so brand new and i am so grateful!! What i mean is that i feel new energy or new hope or optimism. It's all three, really. i remember you saying back in the early days of our relationship something like "let's see the world as half full, girl". Today i just embrace that even more. i will also embrace the gift of living in each day as it comes.

i'm not sure how i moved away from living with joy in each day but i did. Before going farther i would like to offer this confession to You, Master. i don't know if it's stress, or hormones, or lack of sleep or what but probably a combination of all that plus some other things just have interfered with my grateful service to You. i didn't realize that until today. Maybe i've just been a pain in the ass. Maybe been bratty. Yet in the moment i thought i was serving well. But i think i lost sight of staying in the day and in the moment of just being grateful for You.

So, i confess a need to be accountability grateful. What i mean is this. Daily meditating. Bathroom times always with clamps and touches and visualization and pee. Cocks to ride on daily and being grateful in knowing it's Your pussy being made wet. Your nipple sheilds. Daily or multiple times daily, edging. Daily or multiple times a day fantasizing. Daily kegels. Lots of water. Daily writing to You about it all right here because You want me to because it keeps us connected during our busy lives. You've given me structure and i'm tapping into it more by talking to You about it.

So grateful to You, Master for Your patience and care.

Two in the Mirror

Mirrors line the long hallway. They are framless and i'm left without any sense of boundaries that a series of heavily framed mirrors would give me and i am left to find my way. It's uncomfortable.

There are images in the mirrors but i can't see where the images originate and maybe that doesn’t matter, really. The images are here now and i am here with them for a purpose.

There are reflections of two women in the mirrors. One woman has dark hair and the other light. The images are always just ahead of me as i walk. When i stop, they stop. When i move forward they move forward. They cast their dark eyes down, they smile softly at one another and they smile at me as they each trace along their hip down their thigh with long fingers. It's as though they are performing some type of seductive dance to lure me and they are working in unison towards that common goal. i can’t help but watch and follow even though the unfamiliarity of this dance is as uncomfortable as it is captivating.

i'm not sure which woman is leading or if one is leading at all. Seems like one of the two floats slightly forward like she's enticing the other to follow as a mimic. As if planned the mimic then takes over the lead and the other follows.

The woman with the dark hair is in red and her protruding nipples make sharp points in the satin gown. She touches the tip of one just slightly and i see that when her head drops back in an exquisite expression of pleasure her mouth opens just slightly. The mimic, the woman with the light hair, follows the motions of her darker sister and teases her own nipples under her blue satin gown. They see me watching, exchange glances and soft smiles, and continue their tease.

i move forward down the passageway turning in slow circles as i go. i see that the beginning of the mirrored hallway is far behind and it ends at a point far ahead. There is no history here but only the now and the place to where the images are drawing me. There are no others behind, nobody ahead. Just me. And the two women in the mirror.

Such sluts they are as their hips undulate and their pussies rub. Such sluts they are as their tongues tease and their fingers weave through and grasp one another’s hair. Such sluts they are as they slowly raise the hems of their satin gowns higher and higher up their curved asses to show me that heart shaped place where wet lips meet. My breathing quickens, my nipples are swollen and erect and my cunt is wet. And i just continue to walk.

i see a figure at the end of the hallway. He’s in black trousers, black boots and is without a shirt. His facial features are obstructed. i sense such strength and sexuality even as he stands so calmly.

The sluts in the mirror are floating back and forth from the right side of the hallway to the left and back again. They seem agitated and the thin straps of their gowns are slipping down their arms. Fingers are under their gowns, legs are spread, breasts are thrusting towards him. It is he, the man at the end of the hallway, they are seducing now.

i feel my hands caress my own body. The fabric is so smooth, so sensuous in feel. It glides along my curves. It clings to my ass. My right hand is under the hem of my gown and my left is kneading my breast. i see my exposed breast and Master’s nipple shield under the red satin gown.

My chest feels tight as i begin to understand now. My eyes meet hers, meet the eyes of the slut with the light hair in blue satin, we smile softly at one another and hear Master saying, so proud of His slut, “My good girl, you have please Me so.”

Wild Hearts

"I want to ride to the ridge where the west commences
I can't look at hobbles and I can't stand fences
Don't fence me in."
Cole Porter

i understand this, Master. i do.

i believe that men long for adventures to make their hearts race, and battles to fight for worthy causes, and seductions to make their blood boil and beauties to lure.

i believe that women long to have a man like that to be proud of, to be swept up and to share in his adventures, to be seduced, and to be the beauty.

Our culture doesn't support that very well does it. We've become fearful. Have we lost the ability to live with wild hearts?

Maybe in general that is so but within D/s we have this opportunity to live out how we are made .... man and woman, Master and submissive. Supporting fully our expressions of who we need to be.

Master, i am so drawn to Your wild heart. Sometimes i stumble because i've never experienced a man like You.... i'm trying.

i am so proud to be called Yours in this adventure.

Check Point

Regarding the previous posting.....

it might have been a good idea if i'd paid more attention to what those buzzing toys were trying to tell me from the pocket of my purse.

i had to go to a secure government building today to take care of something for work. It had been several months since my last trip there and i didn't really think through the entire check-point process.

i walked through the metal detector archway and turned aside to retrive my purse. The female sheriff's deputy had the belt stopped the belt right on my purse and from the side i could see its outline. When she crumpled up her eyebrows and said "hmmmmmm" that's when i just sort of went "oh s***", took a breath and smiled. She turned her viewer to my direction. My mind was racing.... what's she seeing, what'll i say? She pointed to something and said "can you tell me about this?" She was pointing at the vibrating nipple clamp. i said "it's a clamp" and i could tell she wasn't getting it. She said "will you show me, please" and i took my purse, opened it, opened the pocket and said "it's a personal item, can i just have you look inside here?" and then she sorta got it. But, there's more....

The purple vibe was in the pocket too the one i ride home on, the "Master's Cock" one.... so she looked in and i just acted like i do this ALL the time and she had me remove the clamp and hold it in my hand and i had to explain to her how it works. And i in my most assured voice said something like "think what a good story this is going to be." So she just shook her head, walked back to her chair and said "we see just about everything here but that takes the cake".

And rather than leave the complex by a different doorway, i made myself walk back through their checkpoint.

Buzz

The ringer volume on my cell phone is usually turned all the way down to no volume when i am at work. All quiet. No sounds. Then i turn it up just before i get ready to leave the office.

So when my purse started buzzing last week at about 5 pm, i figured i'd made a mistake and set the ringer to vibrate. No biggy. Except that when i pulled out my phone it wasn't vibrating and my purse was still buzzing. Oh NOOOOO! It must be the vibrator in the zipper pocket, the one i ride for Master on my commute and it must have turned on accidentally! So i opened it up and no, the vibrator wasn't on but my purse was still buzzing! What?? Digging deeper i felt it. The vibrating nipple clamp.

Like a good slut, i just hit the ladies room, peed, plugged Master's pussy with the vibrator, edged and went on home.

Place Called His

It's Friday already. Almost time for meditation, edging. The time of night and the time of week that is so condusive to just reflective thinking and resulting feelings.

Master's gifts this week have been many. In return i wish i could write about them in a deep and profound way or i wish i could write them into a story for Him. i know He'd like that. Something written so that He'd go WOW or better yet, go mmmmmmmmm, My slut. Or something to make Him laugh. i love making Him smile and laugh. His laugh is so warm and wraps around me like a binding to hold me still to Him.

Master sometimes says He spoils me and i feel as though He does. He gives me a place to be. That is a gift. He gives me a place to be His. That's the greater gift.

That place He's given me called "His" is where i am free to freefall as His slut and as a slut. It's a place where i don't have to weigh the choices, the choices are His to make. It's a place to freely feel and experience anything He chooses as my service to Him. i don't even have to worry about when or where. It all just seems to work out.

In this place called "His" He's guided me into His service rather than my self service. i understand much better now how i must remove all notions and actions of my control from our relationship. It was pretty painful for me to see that i had not given up quite as much as i thought i had and He still stuck with me and pulled me through that muck. Yesterday He said peeling the layers away from me is like peeling an onion... with each layer come my tears, lots of them. It hurts me, hurts good. There is no judgment in those words about peeling the layers away, just tender honesty.

This week He gave me the gift of visually seeing His cock while i pleasured Him. Master has such access to my mind that i can see Him now at my mouth as though He was actually above me as i kneel before Him. He is vivid in my mind and that's a gift. He allowed me to bring Him pleasure this week. i hope there are many more ways i can in the future.

This week He's also helped me with technical stuff with my computer. That's ongoing but will sort out soon enough i think.

So now it's time to take the more tangible gifts that Master has given me.... His voice, His shields and the pillow i can hold when i miss Him along with His guided meditation and meet Him for a while. i need to edge for Him. i need to work His cunt for Him.

i have far to go, and so looking forward to continuing this walk.

Last Night Got

to worship cock.

laid.

meditation in for 25 minutes.

to wear a dildo in Master's cunt while on my way home from work and out to dinner.

to thinking that doing daily Kegels is a good idea and will please Master in His pussy's responsiveness.

an idea that a getaway sometime in the fall sounds perfect,

and thinking ocean, so....

better join the gym again to get ready because now my schedule is stable enough to commit to it.

Fabric

Master's family is going through an experience that has potential to change the entire fabric of their family. And in the midst of the first crisis, Master contacted me to let me know.... to let me know so that i could keep them all in my thoughts, to let me know so i wouldn't be concerned if time would pass without contact, to let me know so i'd know how to best serve during this time.... or at least try. Events like this.... i don't know how else to say it but to say "event".... change the fabric of the family forever. They have the potential to send earthquakes through the fiber of the individuals.... they cause hard questions to be asked of oneself and it is just life at its most basic.