bdsm · bondage · D/s · focus · needles · restraints · Richard · Richard and Anna

Needles

 I read a lot about people’s limits being stretched. I write a lot about my own limits even as I discover what they are. The only thing I am sure of is that I do not know what they are…I know I have some hard limits and I know exactly what they are but the line of what I can handle and what I can’t blurred for me this weekend I am realizing that many of the super scary things he wants to do to me are not quite as scary as they first sound when he presents them to me.  Since we have met I have known that he likes to use needles on his submissives. He and Ms. Anna at one time explored this and she spent a lot of time talking to me about it. Of course our conversations were always followed by the gentle and comforting reassurance that he wouldn’t expect anything like that from me for a long time.

Things are different now and I wonder if it is because Ms. Anna is gone…but he decided to explore this with me sooner than I ever expected. I had asked him over the past couple weeks if he knew when we would do it and he never told me. He refused to answer questions like that knowing that it may only aggravate my apprehension instead of helping it.

This weekend we made plans to stay together both Friday and Saturday night. Because of this uninterrupted chunk of time we would be together I wondered if he would decide he had waited long enough. He never mentioned it though and neither did I. I had almost put it out of my mind.  

Saturday when he told me to lay down across his bed it never crossed my mind that was what he was planning. Not until I realized he was taking extra time making sure I was tied down tightly…he put pillows behind my head and told me he wanted to make sure I was comfortable. I sensed a seriousness about him that unsettled me and I asked him as he looped the rope through the black cuff around my ankle if he had decided he was going to use needles today. He didn’t answer right away which was an answer in itself. Instead he continued securing my ankle before coming around and sitting beside me on the bed. He placed his hand on the top of my head and his thumb smoothed out the nervous little furrow in my brow as I waited for his answer.

 “Yes.” He said. “I am.”

 I right away struggled with myself in that timeless conflict between fear and a calm acceptance of what was going to happen. We had discussed this…I had told him just last week that I was ready to do it. That I wanted to  get that first time over with. I clung to the fact that I knew he would never do anything or ask anything of me that he didn’t think I was ready to submit to. 

Needles though- the very idea of having needles going into my skin is scary. More than scary….I sensed myself begin to panic slightly. I felt my heart race and I felt really, truly scared of him. He began to set items out on the table. A bottle of alcohol, cotton balls and of course a box of needles. They were individually sealed….they looked like the type you would start an IV with or use to draw blood. Thin but not tiny. He told me we would start with one. Just one he said. He told me over and over I was going to be alright. That I was safe, that he was here and I would be OK.  He opened the alcohol and poured some across a cotton ball. He rubbed the cotton ball on the top of my breast. It felt cold and hot all at once and I felt my breath quicken again. My heart was so loud; I could feel it and I tasted fear in my mouth. Not so much fear of the pain but fear of the very idea.

Could I be this submissive?

Could I allow myself to be here restrained across his bed allowing him to pierce my skin with needles?

Yes…I could.

 The very idea excited me. The quiet side of me that realized how unreal this was stepped away and tried to pull me along. Yet the side of me that revels in submission…the side of me I have given over to him wouldn’t allow me to leave. I know there are acts that for me may always be purely submission….meaning my own pleasure will be willingly  sacrificed for the sake of my submission. Part of me hoped that this would not be one of those experiences. I wanted to enjoy this…I wanted to find myself sexually responding to the idea of this but I wasn’t feeling it yet.

  I felt fear. Cold fear and I simply closed my eyes. I hoped that sub space would welcome me. Richard had other plans. He wouldn’t let me escape.

“I want you to remember this. Stay with me.”

He asked if I was alright.  I shook my head yes and then no. His look was soft and encouraging and I knew I was going to be OK. I am conflicted inside myself when his eyes turn soft and tender…when his voice gets soft and I hear his words with more than my ears. When my body absorbs his words and I let them cover me like a favorite blanket. I struggle with the two sides of him…the side that is eager to hurt me -vs- the side that is offering nurture and compassion.

 I like how he acknowledged how hard this was…..how he knew it took a lot for me to submit to him in this way.He began to pinch the tender skin on the underside of my arm.

“Remember this? Remember me telling you that the pain would be like this, a pinch.” He pinched me again.Yes I remembered and in my head I reminded myself of the cane…of the hard spanking I had taken from him. I could do this. After all it was mostly mental and I could control that.And I did a pretty good job until he took the cap off the first needle. I felt his hand on my breast, the scent of alcohol was in my nose. I didn’t know where my eyes should be. I wanted to look at him but something kept me from doing that. I knew I couldn’t watch the needle because I felt sick to my stomach and truly felt if I saw it pierce my skin I would either faint, throw up or both.

I picked a spot right behind Richard on the wall beside the bathroom door. It was white and clean like the noise in my ears. I watched it closely….concentrated on it intently before I squeezed my eyes closed. I felt the needle go quickly into my skin and come right out the other side. It reminded me of the kids in school who would sit and play with straight pins. They would press them through the skin on fingers and palms made rough from swinging on monkey bars and climbing on trees. I remember being fascinated by their play as they held them up showing off their bravery. Now it was my turn to be brave.

The needle rested right beneath that first tight layer of skin, that thin pale layer that tries so hard to camouflage small purple veins and streams of blue blood. I wanted it out right away. I felt invaded…indignant almost. I hated the fact that my submission led me to this dangerous place and at the same time thrilled that I was living a fantasy. Dancing on the edge of everything scary and dark and wondrous….I was letting this man methodically place needles into my body. I never felt more submissive or more owned than at that very minute. I was terrified and he knew that I was. That didn’t stop him from doing as he pleased with me. I like that.

Pure perfect Dominance.

I felt twinges of excitement…..small physical reactions that I hoped would turn into pleasure. I hoped that those feelings would win the battle over fear and apprehension. It was an up and down struggle. I would calm myself…or he would settle me and then something would surface that was not good. It felt wrong and scary and I didn’t want to continue. I willed my head to stay in the right place, begged myself to calm down. He spoke encouraging words to me…he touched me gently and reminded me I was OK. He picked up the second needle and I heard him tell me this one was not going inside of me. He dragged it across my skin as he talked me down from the ledge that overlooked my crumbling resolve to submit to him in this way. He ran it along my arm causing my body to shiver from chills that existed only in my head. He told me he was ready to begin again and he picked up another needle. His face was intent and full of gentle concentration. 

 He cleaned off the skin of my other breast and the smell of alcohol was again hot in my nose. The needle was in quickly and I laughed nervously when he teased me that he bet that one hadn’t hurt at all.

I ended up taking two needles in each breast. I can’t say it was easy. I can’t even say it was something I liked. I can say that I learned a lot about Richard as I allowed him to further his rights and his control over my body.  I learned a little about myself too…about my limits and about Richard’s ability to judge what they are. I had moments of extreme panic as I had this first needle experience. I also had softer moments that built my trust in Richard like nothing else could. Moments that deepened our bond as I allowed him to carry me away to a scary place only to be returned to everything that was still good and safe and right.

I also am sure now that ‘doing needles’ is nothing more than a mental barrier that I am straddling. One that I know will continue to be hard on me as I attempt to make it to the other side. I didn’t like the fact I felt I was weak in my submission. My fear and panic was so great at times…I feared Richard and found myself pulling away from his comforting touch in fear of him as I submitted to this. I didn’t like that either. 

I like that I am learning there are lessons to be learned in each new experience. I am able to walk away knowing myself better. I never want to be hesitant in my eagerness to explore. There is so much to do, so much I want to learn and feel and do….and such a small frame of time that we are given to do it. I hate leaving an experience knowing I could have made it better…handled it differently or been a stronger submissive. That’s who I am.Because that is who I am I found myself a few hours later tentatively asking Richard to take me there again. I needed to go back to that scary place and see again that I was stronger than it’s pull…that my submission was stronger than my fear. For as many lessons as I learned during my first needle experience I learned even more during my second. Lessons and feelings I have yet to reflect on because I am not sure where they will lead my mind.  

I’ll write more about this later. The past couple days have left me emotionally exhausted….I am off to bed!

Good night for now…. 

bdsm · D/s · focus · Richard

Greed

Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.  ~Mark Twain 

He was still wet from his shower when it happened. You know I believe there is something wonderful about a man right out of the shower. Hot…clean..damp. There is something even nicer about a man who comes to you directly from the shower and orders your mouth on his cock. This is where I found myself with Richard yesterday. As I write this Richard is beside me on the bed napping. I am sitting here in bed beside him resting on my tummy…..I am wearing a pair of boy-short panties that barely cover my bruises from yesterday. Notice I said I am on my tummy….

About an hour and a half ago we started watching a movie together before realizing we were both exhausted. (my fault). Richard suggested a nap and we both rested for about an hour. He woke me up a few minutes ago inadvertently and I am not quite sure how but here I am wide awake with him still half snoozing beside me. I woke him up long enough to ask permission to bring my laptop to bed to do some writing in my blog. I knew he would say yes. He had told me earlier that I would not be allowed to orgasm until I posted today…until I posted an accounting of one of the amazing events that we shared yesterday. Last night was the first time we spent the entire night together so when I woke up at 4 AM this morning I struggled to go back to sleep. I find that Richard is particularly insightful in the morning and we ended up talking for a couple of hours before one or both of us drifted back off to sleep. So the nap today……my fault. I am going to type quietly and try not to distract him as I lay here in my panties.So here I go…..like I said, he was still wet from the shower when he ordered me to put my mouth on his cock. He was beside me on the bed when he pulled my head down to him. I inhaled the clean manly scent of him as I opened my  mouth. I find this very submissive. I like having this part of my body taken and used as if it were any other entrance into my body. I think he must have liked what I was doing because he made really wonderful encouraging noises.

“Turn around for me….I want to see your cunt while you suck my cock.” As these words still played in my head I shifted so I was kneeling by his side and he had easy access to the rest of my body. This is just another reason why he and I are so compatible. I think that I could take most anything from him as long as he talks me through it. My reactions…my responses are closely tied into what I hear and see. I like direct, concise, black and white directions. He provides me with this.

His hands started exploring me and I felt his fingers enter me. I like how he presses deep inside of me…..how his thumb plays with my clit and his fingers smoothly glide in and out of my body. He sets an amazing rhythm with his hand and I follow it easily. I was embarrassingly wet and pressed myself eagerly into his hand. He has the most amazing hands. You can’t even imagine what he does to me…all my favorite little spots he has found.

I think I am one of those adults with ADD…because the closer he took me to the edge of release the less attention and focus I was able to pay to his cock. At one point the feelings between my legs were so intense I stopped sucking him and rested my head on his leg trying to catch my breath. The sensation of having his fingers explore my body coupled with the taste and feel of him deep inside my mouth overwhelmed me. I felt a flush creep up my back and I felt damp all over. I was so close to cumming…and I was just about ready to ask for permission. I felt two sharp slaps on my bottom…they were hard and I turned my head around and looked at him surprised. I wasn’t expecting that. He continued to spank me hard over and over…”Greedy little cunt.” he said between smacks. “What a greedy cunt you are. Focus on my cock not on my fingers.” I felt ashamed and embarrassed that I had lost myself in my own pleasure…..that it took him hurting me to remind me of my place. It was more than that too…it was the fact that he had the right to put me and keep me in my place that I found the most erotic. It was a reminder that he pleasured me because in doing so he pleasures himself….I pleasure him because that is what I am told to do. The pleasure I receive should be secondary and residual from his own. Do I get pleasure from pleasing him? Yes…so much. Yet even if I didn’t….even if he asked me to do something I thought that I couldn’t possibly do I would do so for the sake of his pleasure. It is the mark of a submissive….because in doing so…in putting his pleasure above my own – that is where the greatest pleasure is found for me. I am known to forget that sometimes. What a greedy cunt I can be. J

bdsm · bondage · D/s · nipple clips · Richard · spanking

Yesterday

Love is often gentle, desire always a rage.  ~Mignon McLaughlin 

I knew I had to write tonight. I woke up thinking about it. I have so much to say. So many things have happened, so many thoughts in my head. As I sit down in front of my computer the list compiled in my head of potential topics to write about is dwindling to a select few. I promised Richard that the only thing I wouldn’t write about tonight was Mark. I promise to catch everyone up on him later.

Yesterday I saw Richard. We had so much to talk about…so much to catch up..and so much stuff to do. I had been tormented all day with thoughts of what he was going to do to me. We had just spent 10 days apart as he was traveling and it was suprisingly (OK…not too surprising!) how difficult it was to have him gone. We were sort of lounging there together, very comfortable with each other. He had undressed me down to my panties very soon after I walked through the door and as I lay there by his side his fingers and lips were idly exploring my body as if he had only just discovered me. It was so nice to talk to him face to face after ten long days…IM and emails will never measure up to being together.

 I knew this first meeting would go one of two ways. One he would be eager to Dominate me….anxious to hurt me. He gets such pleasure out of hurting me. I like that. Or he would go easy on me…I figured it would be the latter because we are spending the entire weekend together and it crossed my mind he would not want me too sore to serve him for the remainder of the week and into the weekend. It just goes to show how unpredictable those Dom’s are….. Before I knew it I was head down across his knees and he was spanking me very hard. I still had my panties on and after a few minutes he pulled them down so they rested mid thigh. He whispered something to me about that being the best place for my panties to be or something like that…my mind was concentrating on the pain of his hand. I told him today that there is something wonderful about the skin to skin contact of being over his knee. Having his hand directly deliver the pain to my body is different from any other sort of pain. It is more emotional, more intimate and it a strange way both harder and easier to accept. I like knowing he can hurt me through his own hands…not with a cane or a belt or with clamps or clips. It is his hands that are delivering the pain to my body. It enhances the feeling of being taken, of being owned. I find that all together very pleasant.

He pushed me off of his lap and then pulled me to my feet. I am still learning his moods and how to adapt my own actions and submission to meet his expectations. I like that as Dominate as he is…as sadistic as he is he is still able to show me incredible tenderness and nurturing. I think that many Dominants are not as comfortable with their own dominance in order to show that side of themselves. It is a conflicting feeling to have my bottom hot and burning from his hands to moments later having him press kisses over my face and lips. It is a natural process for him because that is his style of dominating me. It is the perfect blend of savage brutality…and tenderness. Sounds odd I know but to me it makes perfect sense. As he kissed me he whispered to me that he wanted to really hurt me tonight…that he was going to hurt me…that he knew he could do anything he wanted to do to me. Again..the combination of tenderness and brutality. To be called a slut…his slut between gentle kisses does strange things to my body. I was lost and shakey by the time he pulled away and set me away from him. He looked down at me and nodded towards a large stuffed chair in the room.“Go to that chair…..I want you to sit on the chair and face me. I want a leg over each arm. Show yourself to me” He wanted me open for him. Nothing reminds me of the hard side of him as quickly as him forcing me to do the things that I find the hardest. As I walked to the chair I felt his eyes on me….I think he likes looking at me when I am naked. 🙂 I sat down and my eyes met and surprisingly held his. I tried so hard not to look away as I sat less than two feet from him and opened my legs. Like the slut he expected me to be I displayed myself to him. The chair opened my legs wide and I knew nothing was hidden from his view. He sat on the edge of the bed for few moments and watched me. “Put your hands above your head.” he said standing up and walking towards me. He stood in front of me and his fingers entered my body swiftly. I was so wet and I welcomed his touch. I love the feeling of his fingers inside my body probing and pressing into me. I love how wet he makes me and how his fingers feel slippery against my bare skin. I always try and watch him just a little…I try to watch his fingers as they touch me and it reinforces the fact that I will never ever have body hair again….lol.  I love the feeling of being displayed of being open for him to touch and play with and to hurt anyway he likes. I love it but find it shameful and it gives me that feeling that is so close to being bad.I knew I was close to cumming, I wanted to so badly and I asked him if I could. “Please, may I cum?”

“Oh..no.” he said. “Not yet.” He shook his head as he spoke. His eyes said there is no way you are cumming already. His fingers left me and I moaned in frustration. I hate the empty ‘I almost had an orgasm feeling’. He walked away and came right back holding one large black clamp. It was the cruel heavy plastic type that was made for anything but my small breast. I held my breath waiting for the pain of the clamp. He watched me as he leaned over me and attached it to my left breast. He pinched it right inside the skin around my nipple…taking enough skin nto the clamp so my nipple pressed up from behind the clamp. I cried out in pain and frustration. I told him it hurt…that it really hurt. He said “Good.” I feel scared wen he says things like that…in a thrilling erotic sort of way. In my head I am soaking up the feeling of being hurt by him and having him enjoy it…even in my most submissive moments I get that scared feeling reminding me of the limits I used to have.

My hands were still over my head and I really wished he had tied them together or restrained me so the temptation to push the clamp away would not be so strong. At one point my hand came down and I literally willed myself to not push it away. He warned me to keep me hands above my head. I really don’t want to know what would have happened had I taken it off myself. I told him again that it hurt. He said it was going to hurt a lot worse when he took it off. I knew he was right. His mouth tormented my other nipple and his teeth bit and pulled at my skin. As his mouth distracted me from the pain of the clamp his hand released it and the pain was unbearably intense for the briefest of moments. When Richard takes a clamp off of my nipple he always rubs it very hard…I haven’t quite figured out yet if he does it to hurt me more or to assist in rubbing away the pain. The funny thing is to me it is all in the same. The hard rubbing of his hand is the good type of pain….I love that. As I recovered from the removal of the large clamp his mouth travelled lower until he was between my legs. I felt his breath on my thighs…his kisses on the tops of my legs. Finally I felt his mouth on my clit. It was the softest touch and he rolled it around on his tongue pulling it gently into his mouth all the while pulling at my nipple with his finger. Again my mind was working hard to take in the pleasure and the pain. All of my experiences before have been with pain and then pleasure or pleasure and then pain. Richard gives me both in equal intensity. It is a heady feeling. As his mouth swirled around me I felt my body tense and I knew I was going to cum. I was on the brink and found the words to ask him if I could please, please cum. He said yes just as I buckled against his mouth and his finger. I felt myself clench around his finger and I held on to the back of the chair. It was a hard orgasm…the very best kind.

My breath was still coming in short little burst when he prssed me further back into the chair and stood in front of me. His hand was in my hair and his cock was pressed against my mouth. I did nothing but open my mouth. He held my head still on either side of my face and used my mouth just as he would any other part of my body. I relaxed my mouth to take him in the entire way…I struggled with my gag reflex every time he pressed deep inside my mouth and paused his stroke. I could hear my own noises in my ear. Not quite pleasure..not pain but something. The music of submission perhaps? I began to stroke him lightly with my fingers, loving the way his deeper noises blended with my own. I felt a strange combination of power and helplessness. I was pinned beneath him with his hands holding my head immobile so he could thrust himself in and out of my willing mouth….yet my fingers had the power to make him groan. Strange, strange combination. I am still trying to decide how I feel about that.

I felt his body tighten and then stiffen and his thrust got harder into my mouth. I was sure he had bruised my lips. I liked that feeling of being used. It is addictingly hot. His hands tightened in my hair and I felt him pull it keeping my head still. I knew he was going to cum before I tasted him. The salty weight of him in my mouth caused my own body to crave release once again. He pulled out of me and stepped away slightly. He ran his hand down along side of my face before pressing his fingers against and then into my mouth. “Lick your cum off my fingers.” I sucked his finger deep into my mouth tasting myself on him loving how his taste blended with my own.

He asked me afterwards how that made me feel. How I felt about having to clean his fingers after being inside of me. All I could think of was loving the way I tasted…and knowing that when the day comes that I find my playmate that she will taste like me. I can’t wait for that.

spanking

Thoughts on “Moments” From Richard

Most of you do not know anything more about pixie and my relationship than what you read here.  Most of you don’t know, for example, that our pixie went through a short period when she felt that all her relationships ended in misery and wondered why she ever began a relationship.  I believe that I have convinced her that all relationships end with pain (unless the two people go down in a plane together).  Someone always leaves, someone always dies, leaving the other person sad and alone.  In spite of this, and in spite of the fact that we KNOW it to be true, we enter relationships.  We don’t let the knowledge that there is pain in the future keep us from beginning relationships and enjoying them and treasuring them for whatever time we are allowed, whatever time we have together.

Those of you who have been reading carefully may also know that pixie and I know we have a limited time together.  The circumstances which give rise to this tragedy are personal and of no concern here.  But you have heard me say that I am not the one true Dominant for pixie, and that I understand that my role is to guide her and nurture her and help her explore in a safe environment for some period of time, however long, however short; and at some point to help her find the next Dom.  I most desperately hope to be able to leave her in a safe place, with a good man.

As you may expect, pixie and I have had many conversations about  this. We began thinking in terms of months.  We are now thinking in terms of years.  But we both know that we can see the end – it is not as far out as it usually is when one begins a relationship, especially one of this nature and intensity.  We finally decided that we would not start a relationship by looking at how it would end.  We decided we would ignore the pain coming at the end, and enjoy the time we have together, whatever it may be. And of course we know that we are, as we frequently remind each other, “much to close.”  We have been told this by more than one person. If I may quote Dr. Dom, “what are you two thinking?” I can only reply, Dr.Dom, you yourself love pixie and you haven’t even met her. How can you expect something less of me?

Both of us have had recent experiences with relationship loss. It seem that it is really hard to have something end with the grace and goodwill that one might hope for. I think that what happens is that both parties know it is ending, know it has ended, know that it must end, but then one person decides to acknowledge that and make it stick, and the other person feels rejection, and pain, and anger. I hope with all my heart that knowing this will help pixie and I to part one day, as we know we must, with nothing but shared pain and love – not the anger, nothing that will keep us from quickly reaching that point where we are sad but have wonderful memories, unspoiled by anger in parting. In other words, I hope that when one of us is finally willing to admit it must end, the other will be able to accept that truth. And I say this without knowing which one of us that will be.

As I read this over, it seems unbearably sad, and I apologize for that. For in truth, there is much joy in the fact that we have seen all this, and still we have begun a relationship which is making us both intensely happy. We are living in the moment. We have shared so much and have so much more to share. And we have time. No one knows how much time they have, and we are no different. Today she is smiling and looking forward to seeing me again. What more could a man want? I am intensely happy. I wanted to share all this with you so that you might understand more fully the significance of the quote which precedes pixie’s blog entry “Moments” and what it meant to me to read it.  And I wanted to say pixie, I feel exactly the same.

bdsm · caning · D/s · focus · girls · irrational thoughts · Richard · spanking

Moments.

…..let me be aware of the treasure you are.  Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart.  Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow.  Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so.  One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.  ~Mary Jean Iron
 

A negative quality that I have is that I lose focus. There are days that I wake up and realize that I am not feeling very submissive. I am extremely busy and there are times I get too wrapped up in all my other roles and forget this is something I am doing for myself, something that I require. I am really good about noting the long list of ‘Dom’ responsibilities. I have said before more joking than anything that the only real responsibility of the submissive is to obey her Dominant. I am well aware there is more to it than that. One responsibility I feel I have is to keep my head in the right place. I shouldn’t need Richard to Dom me back into the right head space when he sees me. When I was with M I could blame this on the distance between us and the resulting frustration of wanting to be with him. I can’t use that excuse on Richard. I am aware it is just something I lack….something that I am getting better at.

Richard is an interesting guy. He is funny and charmingly sweet and he is one of those rare men who truly listen when you talk. Not only that but he understands me on a level that few have. He understands when I struggle and even why I struggle sometimes before I do. He knows when to “Dom’ me through it and when to take a more tender approach. He is also proactive. In his realization that I can lose focus he has asked me to take a moment each day to sit and relax and think of myself submitting to him. These moments throughout my day….as it turns out I have several….keep me focused. I feel I benefit from a consistent stream of extreme physical stimulation. Ex.spanking…caning…pain…etc. There is no doubt I crave the physical side to this relationship. I am just realizing how important the mental Domination can be. I find it erotic as I sit behind my desk or just as I go about my day and a thought…so amazingly hot…so disturbingly close to the edge begins to play out in my head. I like that my body can physically react to his Dominance when he is an hour away unaware of the thoughts in my mind. Allowing myself these thoughts keep me focused. I like this.

I also had a hard and fast reminder that while there are times I need my own thoughts to bring myself back into my own submission Richard is incredibly capable of getting me there too. I may have mentioned before that I am searching for a girlfriend. I want a female friend…a playmate of sorts. Someone who understands what I do and someone I am attracted to. Someone I can get close to…close enough to want to share some of my experiences with. I am curious about this newly developing side of my sexuality and I am going to go slow as I explore it. Richard has been supportive and intrigued and…..SHOCKED when I first blurted out I wanted to be with another girl. So earlier today I got an email from Richard and this is part of what he had to say….

…..she is lying face down with her legs apart, and a pillow under her pelvis.You kneel between her legs, touching her. You put your tongue just above her crease and run your tongue up her spine to her neck. You nuzzle her neck and as your mouth reaches her ear, I cane you right at the crease between your butt and your thighs – the most tender spot, and you moan into her ear. That pushes her over the edge and you continue rubbing her as she comes.

No doubt this little scenario will inspire whatever moments I have tomorrow. Focusing is such hard work. 🙂

life lessons · M. · Ms. Anna · Richard

Thoughts on blogging

 Sometimes what seems like surrender isn’t surrender at all. It’s about what’s going on in our hearts. About seeing clearly the way life is and accepting it and being true to it, whatever the pain, because the pain of not being true to yourself  is far, far greater. ”
~ Nicholas Evans

I have scared myself the past couple of days. I have avoided my blog. I haven’t wanted to write. I haven’t checked my comments or my stats…I haven’t even really read all the wonderful blog friends I am linked to. For the past couple days I have seriously thought about not writing anymore. I thought maybe I should just sort of go away for awhile. I am not sure why I feel this way..like I said I scared myself because I get so much pleasure out of writing about my feelings and experiences…fantasies and thoughts. Not to mention the wonderful, strong people who read me and offer me their strength through their own words and comments. I have learned so much about my own submission while reading about others like me…I hope you feel the same about me. I have learned so much about myself.
Do you ever just feel like you need to not share so much….I’m not sure what to do. I’d miss you all so much. And I am certainly not lacking for inspiration. I am on the cusp of learning so many new things and still have so much to tell you.
I feel this hardened block around me right now like my words aren’t flowing naturally. Maybe it’s because Richard is traveling this week…or we just had an argument about him not wanting me to talk to M or maybe it’s because I have lost a really good friend in Ms. Anna. I want my blog to be a place full of my positive thoughts and accountings of my submissive growth that is not coming across in my writing right now. Right now it is an archive full of where M and I were….proof of what we shared. It makes me sad. I need to rearrange my thoughts regarding my blog so that I want to come here and share my new experiences with the same enthusiasm and delight that I did before. How do I do that?
Not writing here anymore isn’t going to give me M back….it isn’t going to help Richard see I am strong enough to see M without falling apart. It isn’t going to make Ms. Anna be my friend again…so I am not sure where my head is. I am not sure what to do…I do know that if I can’t write about the positive I won’t write at all. I can’t live behind a cloud…not when there is so much sunshine on the other side. The loss part of “love, loss and spanking” pretty much sucks.

bdsm · bondage · D/s · knife play · nipple clips · restraints · Richard

Deliberate Pain

The torment of precautions often exceeds the dangers to be avoided. It is sometimes better to abandon one’s self to destiny. ~Napoleon Bonaparte

It is the deliberate pain that I enjoy the most. There is something inexplicably erotic about allowing someone to hurt you especially when the person hurting you knows what they are doing is close to or at your limit. I have pain so sexualized in my brain, so eroticized that it morphs into amazing pleasure as it absorbs into my body. I am amazedat times at my true desire to feel pain, to experience humiliation and to submit with everything inside of myself. I have stopped asking why. I’ll never know. I don’t even really care any more. People far smarter that I am can’t figure it out, I won’t try. It is what it is as Richard would say.

When I say ‘deliberate’ pain I am focusing on the type of pain that gives you two choices. The first is allowing yourself to sink blissfully away into deep subspace never to be heard from again….at least until it is over. Or pulling everything it takes from around you and inside of you to take the pain as it is given. To feel it raw. Both have drawbacks and advantages. The other day I was sitting on the floor in one of Richard’s spare bedrooms. This particular room has an amazing brass bed to which he had me tied to. Not tied across…but tied to. He had me sit on my bottom on the floor in front of the bed. I still had wrist and ankle restraints on from earlier in the day, leaving these on he spread my legs and looped rope through each restraint. Using the ropes he tied a leg to each leg of the bed and a wrist to each of the higher bedposts. It was an uncomfortable position but nothing I couldn’t tolerate. He sat beside me on the floor and toyed with me until I could barely stand it. He has these utility clips that are nothing short of nipple torture devices and when he removed them from the bag I felt dizzy knowing what was coming. As I watched him he ran a rope through the metal links attached to them and secured the rope to the brass bed in front of me. Pushing me forward a bit he pulled the tight skin right beside my nipple and attached the clamp to that skin. He did the same thing on the other breast. The pain was incredible. It was the hot type of pain that you almost need to wipe away or move away from. The kind that hurts you behind your eyes until your body adjusts to it. They were tight and felt as if they were clawing into my soft skin. They pulled and twisted harder than the cruelest hand ever could and I found I could not look away. He watched my reaction. He knew the agony I was in and he loved it. It was deliberate and methodical and amazing.

Subspace was not an option on this day. His words kept me in the here and now his touch kept me achingly on the brink of release and need. I felt a cool blade on my back and knew he had the knife. I felt it glide across my skin, heard the almost metallic sound of metal against flesh. He whispered that one day he was going to put it inside me. He sat behind me and ran the knife over each nipple…the pain of the clips punishing me as I instinctively drew away from the blade. Sitting up having to be aware of every shift of my body made drifting away impossible. He knew that. He touched the point of the blade to each of my nipples and I heard my own soft moans in my ears. As I watched him hurt me my body ached with desire and longing for it to continue. I am in love with the fact that he wants to hurt me, that he can. The fact there is danger and intense heat in every touch he offers me and in every look he gives me. There is a look a man gets when he is hurting you and loving it. I can’t explain it and probably wouldn’t even if I could. It is what it is.