bdsm · caning · Life in general · spanking

Justify my love…hey, wasn’t that a song….?

I am such a curious soul, always reading, trying to discover something new. I like to analyze my every  feeling..and for obvious reasons figuring out the D/s dynamic is first on my list. The emotional side is probably the hardest….as that is so necessary for me.

I am one step closer to understanding this morning and I can thank this web page…”></a>.

This FAQ page..some of which I am going to quote below makes so much sense. I am intrested in what my readers think of this topic realizing many of you are in similiar situations.  This web page deals with polyamorous relationships and while my situation does not meet all the criteria the following portion was still helpful for me.


“But if you love someone, you shouldn’t want anyone else…right? That’s a common idea, but it doesn’t really hold up in practice.

Many people believe that a person who has multiple loves can’t give their “whole heart” to any person. The belief goes that if you love one person, you can express your love wholeheartedly, but if you love multiple people, your love is divided up and is therefore not as deep. This is based on the “starvation model” of love–that is, you only have a limited amount of love, and if you give your love to one person, there is none left to give to anyone else–so if you fall in love with another person, you have to “pay” for it by withdrawing your love from the first person.

.Love is not the same thing as money. With money, you have only a limited amount to spend, and when you give it to one person you have less left to give to another. But love behaves in wonderful and unpredictable and counterintuitive ways. When you love more than one person, you soon realize that the more love you give away, the more love you have to give. Yes, you CAN give your whole heart to more than one person, and when you do, you realize it’s the most beautiful feeling in all the world.

Don’t think of the contents of your heart the way you think of the contents of your wallet; it doesn’t work like that.

Some people also seem to feel that it is not possible to love more than one person at a time, so if you’re in a position where you’re in a relationship with one person and you happen to fall for someone else, this “proves” you don’t really love the person you’re with, right? After all, the feeling goes, we are put here on this earth to love only one other person, our one true soulmate in a world of six billion people…the single person who is right for us, and who by some quite astounding coincidence happens to go to the same school, or work at the same place.

This is the “scarcity model” of love–the notion that love is rare, that we can only have one true love, and that once we meet tht one true love, the part of our brains which take notice of other people suddenly and mysteriously shut off.”


bdsm · Life in general · spanking


He liked when I told him I was wearing short shorts and white panties today….of course he had to see for himself…..


I lack photography skills Sir.

Can’t figure out my timer so what you can’t see in this picture is the acrobatics that went into this shot! Hence the slight wedge….

You know what strikes me though as I check myself out…the lack of cane marks on my bottom…is it obvious I miss my M?

Ok…Sir. So here I am in my jean shorts….I know you most likely wanted the opposite view but taking a picture of your own butt can be a challenge…lol.




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bdsm · spanking

The trouble with tasks.

I bought a new toy and couldn’t wait to play with it. I opened it and looked at it, weighed it in my hand, admired it, and couldn’t wait to show M. So much of these toys are all stillnew to me. It looked so innocuous in the packaging, so innocent in my hand. I desperately wanted to try it out.What am I talking about? My new butt plug of course, what else? My first ‘real’ one btw…..the one I had before got me in a little trouble because I was told to get one and got the wrong thing. How was I supposed to know the difference between a plug and a probe? Anyway…it served it’s purpose but a probe is not designed to stay in by itself where a plug has this indentation that allows it to stay put. Am I the only one who didn’t know this? ***sigh***

So anyway, now I have a new one. The pack specifically said “Perfect for Beginners”, I still consider myself a beginner at least in back yard play. I should have learned my lesson as far as reading packages when I shop for toys . Remember when M made me buy wax…the package described the sensation as warm and erotic. LIARS! Try jumping off the bed (or at least wanting to, kinda hard when you are chained) moaning and frantically trying to get away agony. This was soooo hard for me. Every drip, every drop of the melting wax felt as if it was melting my skin. Of course it wasn’t, it barely left a mark yet it is the kind of pain that at least for me that is impossible to get on top of. It didn’t help either that M was allowing the drops to fall all over my freshly caned bottom. You would have thought he liked hurting me…lol.

But back to the plug….I really couldn’t wait to try it out so the other day when M told me he had a task for me I instantly thought he may allow me to play with my new plug. He told me to run a warm bath and relax myself as best I could. After I am in that languid warm mode that only a warm bath can achieve he told me to get on my hands and knees in the water and insert my new plug. Then I could masturbate with it inside me. I was in heaven with anticipation.

I did just what he said…ran my bath, added bubbles and just relaxed myself. I ran my hands all over my slippery body until I gathered the courage to turn over and use the plug. This is where things started to go very wrong. First of all I got in the tub thinking I wouldn’t need lubricant because after all I was in the tub….gallons of water, right? Water wasn’t cutting it, I couldn’t get it in so I hopped out of the tub feeling quite challenged by now. This just had to work, I had waited all morning! Got my lube and crawled back in to tub ignoring my trail of bubble through my house. I also ignored the irony of the words on my bottle…WATER BASED. See, water-lube..makes sense, anyway. So I lubed up the plug and again tried to insert it. I couldn’t do it, I pressed it in a little further and it still wasn’t going any further. It sat on the edge of the tub and just looked at me for about two minutes. What was my problem? I was not giving up…! It was me against the plug. I added more warm water to my bath and gathered my will and my courage. This four inch piece of silicone had met it’s match.

I got out of the tub and stood against the wall…bending over I was able to insert the plug slowly…carefully and not without a lot of discomfort. Gingerly I got back in the tub and laid back. Nananananana…I did it, I showed it.

The feeling of accomplishment was short lived. I had to keep taking deep breathes to handle the pain of it being inside me, it felt large and unyielding. I waited for the full feeling to turn pleasurable. It didn’t. I tried to concentrate on M, I was doing this because he told me to, it didn’t have to feel good. I knew this was something he wanted me to get used to, the feeling of being taken this way, having him inside me like this. As these thoughts started multiplying in my head the pain settled and I felt my body stretch to accommodate the plug. I did a really good job of arousing myself as I imagined M and the thought that he would have showed NO patience with inserting the plug. I imagine the plug would have cooperated with him. So I lay there and touched my clit, slow circles like I love it and then harder and a bit faster all the while very much aware of the plug in my bottom. Nothing was happening. I couldn’t orgasm with the plug inside me! Maybe it was some butt plug curse…did I not show it the proper respect. Revenge perhaps?

I had a dilemma. M’s instructions to me said two things very specifically. Use the plug and that yes..I was allowed to orgasm. What’s a pet to do? Take out the plug and orgasm? Leave the plug in and keep trying? Take the plug out and not orgasm? I was so frustrated, my need for release was so strong and I knew it was purely a psychological hold up that I was unable to orgasm. I got out of the tub and removed the plug. It was as hard to remove as it was to put in….I am thinking that once again this was a case of false advertising. The pain of taking it out frustrated me even more as it made my need to orgasm even worse.

Hiding the wretched plug under my towel, who knew what it was capable of and at this point I had decided I never wanted to see it again. I once again climbed back into the tub and had the most delicious orgasm ever! I felt like I deserved it after the last half hour of butt plug hell.

Not too sure though if I officially did something wrong or not? What do you think?


bdsm · caning · M. · Story


No one but Night, with tears on her dark face,
Watches beside me in this windy place.
~Edna St. Vincent Millay


rain.jpgThe air smells like rain and nighttime. We cross the empty parking lot to get to your car. I hear thunder and walk closer to you. You make me feel safe. I like how you open the car door for me. As soon as you close the door rain begins to bounce off of the windows. It soaks you as you run around the front of the car to get inside. You are laughing and wet when you climb in beside me. I like how the street light shines against your face, you seem to glow. You say we are going to wait here until the storm passes. You relax back into your seat and wipe the rain off of your face. There is rain on your arms and it makes your shirt cling to your skin. I ache to touch you but I don’t. Instead I lean back into the soft leather of the seat and watch you watch the rain. You catch me watching you and I look away. We sit and quietly talk for a few minutes. I feel your hand on the back of my head, under my hair and you gently stroke me. You are quiet as your hand idly plays with my collar. We are both quiet now. The silence is comfortable as we listen to the rain and the thunder outside. I love the way your thumb  strokes the top of my spine. You slip your finger beneath the leather and pull my head back hard against the seat. You watch my face for my reaction. You catch me off guard. It takes me a second to adjust to the tightness of the collar with your finger laced beneath it’s softness. It slows my breathing, centers me, forces me to concentrate on you. I am not scared, I feel calm as your grip beneath my collar holds me tight to the seat. I warily watch you not sure what to expect. Your other hand is on my knee and you tell me to open my legs. I do. You push my knees  further apart. I feel hot and flushed. The collar tightens and all I hear is my heart beat and you breathing. I feel air on my thighs. You have my skirt bunched around my waist. Your finger touches me possessively, I can feel it slide between my bare lips. I am instantly wet and I know you can feel me. I want you more than anything and I try to tell you by pressing against your hand. Again the collar tightens against my neck and I know it is a silent warning to be patient. A soft whimper escapes me when you stop. This isn’t about me. You mention the marks of the cane on my thighs and I like how your fingers trace over them. My skin stings as you press into each stripe. I feel my breath come faster as I try to focus on you and less on the pain of your pinching fingers on my thighs and the pressure of the collar circling my throat. I feel trapped, I feel pinned to the seat. I can’t move and do not want to.  I like how I am yours to play with. I barely hear the rain now. Your hand cups me pressing hard into my wetness, your palm making small circles against me, your finger inside me. You tell me how wet I am for you. How you like that I am ready for you and how you want to cane me again but that it will be much, much worse next time.  I love how your voice is hot on my neck and how your whispers nibble around my ear. I can’t help but press into your hand lifting my bottom slightly off of the seat arching my back. I am so close to orgasm and I can tell you know. You can read my body, you always could. I want you inside me. You tell me what a slut I am, but your voice is almost amused, admiring. Your words make me ache and I whisper, “please…Sir.” You scold me for my impatience and move your hand away. Your finger is still looped under my collar and using this as a  handle you pull my head down into your lap. You open your pants and you tell me to take your cock in my mouth. I struggle to obey you as the collar is too tight around my neck. I taste you and need surges through me. I love how you feel in my mouth, I love how you taste and the sounds you make that tell me I am pleasing you. You release my collar and grasp me around the back of my neck. You rest your other hand on the top of my head and I feel your fingers bury into my hair.  I feel your cock press deep into the back of my throat. I love how heavy you feel on my tongue as I struggle to take all of you as your thrusts quicken in and out of my mouth. I like how your hand is tight on the back of my neck. It reminds me that I am helpless against your strength, against your need to dominate me. I love the feeling of being helpless- of feeling submissive to you. Master, Master is playing over and over in my head with every thrust into my mouth and all I can think of is pleasing you. Your grip is tight and I can’t move. In my mind I know I exist at that moment only for you, to be used anyway you desire. I love feeling that I belong to you. You tell me you are ready to come and I can’t wait to taste you, to feel the liquid heat of you in my mouth. As you near your release your thrusts become harder and faster and I feel my lips bruise and swell and you hold me tighter. I wonder if you realize how tight your grasp is around my neck. You groan the moment before I taste you and I love it as I try my best to continue to hold all of you in my mouth while swallowing at the same time. I like how you spasm and jump slightly as I slowly continue to suck on your cock. I suckle more gently now running my tongue around the head of you savoring the lingering taste of you in my mouth. Your hand is still around the back of my neck resting your hand beneath my hair with the barest trace of pressure. I make sure you are cleaned off and as dry as my tongue can get you before lifting my head and looking at you. You are pleased with me, and you push my hair off of my face. You tell me what a good pet I am, how I please you. I love the satisfied expression on your face, how your blue eyes look soft now. I love how very beautiful you are. It embarrasses me because you know I am admiring you. We realize at the same time the rain has stopped. I can’t remember where we are going but I start to adjust my skirt pulling it down so we can leave. You catch my wrist and tell me not to. Leave it pulled up you say. It’s not mine to cover.


caning · Life in general · spanking

Blood and other stuff.


Today I had a discussion with a blogger friend about being caned until she bled. My first reaction was that would most assuredly fall way outside my parameters. Yet she explained it as not a whole heck of a lot different from the other cane strokes, the ones that did not bleed. She suggested it was where they had overlapped or just cut deeper into the skin. She also said that when she saw that she was bleeding she was excited. I kept waiting to feel horrified but I 100% understood. I would feel the same way. I am a visual person, I enjoy looking at my cane strokes, the redness of my bottom and my thighs after being with M. I love that he will pull me over to the light just so he can see every stripe up close, that he touches every bruise every mark he mars my body with. I get pleasure from that as well, the humiliation of being visually inspected is arousing. I know just by some recent conversations with M that he will again push my limits when next we see each other.Can I imagine having blood on me when he finishes with me. Unless that is a parameter of his. Absolutely.Over the past few days we have kept an ongoing dialogue up about just this topic. I was asked to look at some pictures that were linked to my blog that I felt were pretty harsh in comparison to what I am used to. Lupus caning pictures among others….M asked me how they made me feel.

Me:My first impression is horrific…..then I think mmmmm, maybe one time. I can’t see you taking it to that level …what is the point. Like I said, is it overkill? I don’t want the experience to turn negative in my mind. I can barely stay on top of the pain as it is.

M: I’m surprised. We have talked about a restrained, no specific number caning. I imagine this would be the result. I think you could get into subspace and stay there through something like this (not that it wouldn’t hurt…). I really see you as having a high tolerance for the cane so would like to one day, intend to, push it. I know.. let’s try it and see. 🙂

Me:(Dumb question) Can you really see yourself doing that to me?

M: Yes.And I suspect it will turn me on so much, I’d fuck you without bothering to untie you. Where I’d fuck you, I don’t know, but either way you’d feel me banging hard into your raw and beaten bottom.

So that is what I get for asking dumb questions. Drenched panties….lol. I told M today that the most arousing thing to me as I anticipate seeing him again is the knowledge that he wants to hurt me. That he wants to and that he knows he can. I will never fully understand why that just does it for me but it does. I love that his words pull something out of me, something primal and dark. That my own thoughts and reactions to him scare the living daylights out of me sometimes. There are thoughts in my head, things I long to experience with him that on a saner day I would cover my eyes if presented with them. Yet with Him I find I have little inhibitions, that I can embrace my darker desires. I asked him if he felt challenged by my seemingly high tolerance for caning. I asked him how having me under his power, completely at his mercy made Him feel?

M:I would stand over you and direct the cane vertically. Same with the flogger, that would be easier and I could use it much harder. Its leather straps would get between your cheeks, flail your throbbing cunt, slash against the inside of your tender thighs. How would I feel? I would laugh while you begged and then if you begged too much I would gag you, or maybe put my hands around your neck to silence you……. ……And a large part is wanting to take you long and far, take you to a point where you are mine totally, you resistance is gone, your tolerance is gone, the pain is unending and merciless, and where your spirit is completely mine……

 I do not even think I was able to form a cogent response to these emails. They left me painfully aroused and trembling with anticipation. Yet a real concern and a real confusion lingered with me throughout the remainder of the day, it provoked me writing this post.Can I meet his expectations? I hope I can. I admit freely how badly I need this experience, how willingly I submit to every act he subjects me too. My only worry is not being strong enough to take all he asks me to take for Him. I am wondering if I will swallow my safe word everytime I feel it on my tongue or will I use it. Will I struggle when he ties me down and tells me he is going to beat me past the point of begging him to stop? Will I be welcomed into subspace…will I need it’s shelter.

Good night for now……


bdsm · caning · spanking

Something you need to know…..

I have to share today’s final email from M…much much too hot to sit in my ‘old mail’ file all alone……don’t worry he can’t be serious. Can he?

As we head into the weekend there’s something you need to know.

You need to know that next time I see you, I am going to whip your entire body, from head to toe and on every available surface.  I will chain your wrists together and start on your breasts, wanting to hurt you the most at the start.  I intend to have you crying with the pain, pet, crying real tears and begging for mercy. Cane, flogger, ruler, all will torture you. And then your sexy flat stomach will feel my flogger, the tip of my cane, my hairbrush before your cunt, wet despite your agony, feels the burn of leather as the little strap punishes your most tender lips, spraying your juices down your thighs.  And your thighs, pet, if you thought what went before was painful, wait until I spend ten minutes on each thigh.  Burning with cane stripes, the deep sting of the brush, you will sob like the begging slave I want you to be.

Do you think you have been caned before?  You haven’t.  The weals that I mean to put across your bottom will last weeks, pet, because I will lay them on full force, each one a screaming tear of cane through air.  Your bottom, the backs of your legs, your calves, they will be lined with angry welts such that any way you sit or lie, you will think of me with tears in your eyes.

And the lash marks on your back, rubbing against your clothes later, will remind you that forever you are a slave, one to be used by me and beaten by me however I want.

Crumpled on the floor, sobbing and pierced with pain, little slave pet, I will drag you to the bed and make you spread your beaten cheeks and beg for me to fuck you in the ass, plead with me through your snot and tears to release myself deep inside you regardless of the pain it causes.

That, my pet, is our next meeting.  Look forward to it.  It will hurt.

dscn1119.JPGSee,why I had to share his words….I also want to share this picture with my readers. He asks…do you think you have been caned before?  This was right after last time, do you think he has caned me before……like I said he can’t be serious…..can he? How much worse can it be?