Kinkless. Is that even a word?

I am having one of those "stuff on my mind" moments, where I know it will help me work out what is what, but I am unsure whether it is things I want the world to know. And more importantly, I am not sure everything I said would meet Sir's approval for public consumption.

Has he beaten me? No
Has he treated me badly? No
Am I still madly in love? Yes

OK...we are clear this is not a relationship going bad post?? Yes? Good

It's been a long time since I have had to live with someone new. Get to know their foibles and intricacies.

When I was married, there were so many habits of my ex husband that I hated.  I didn't become to hate them, I always did...right from the minute I noticed them. Sir has habits, small ones, possibly things He doesn't even notice, and so far, each and every one makes me smile.
I am not positive that it is working the same in reverse, but we'll get there.

The thing I have found the hardest is the meaning behind different things. We can SAY the same thing, and mean totally different things. It is when there is no clarification, one thinks one thing, and the other, another.

Which, for most people wouldn't be a big issue, but for me?? Blah.

Right now, I am struggling big time with my submission and my everyday life.
I cannot find a happy balance.

I have responsibilities, I am a mother, daughter and employee, all relationships which require me to be up front, strong and capable.
And I don't want to come home and turn into a mindless submissive who bows and scrapes, and neither would Sir want me to, but I am missing control. Not necessarily sexual control, but the kind that turns me into a whimpering submissive.

We have always done things differently to others. Our relationship is nothing like anything I have ever had before, and to be honest...the kink has dropped off a lot.
Which....I hadn't noticed that I had a problem with before now.

I can't tell you how long it has been since Sir tied me with rope.
Its been weeks since the flogger came out of the drawer.
I haven't seen a butt plug or any other kinky type of sex toy in months!

And yet.....

I have had a better connection with Sir sexually.... I have had multiple orgasms for the first time in my 30 odd years of life AND the orgasms have been easier and more frequent. All HUGE things in my life.
(For those just joining us... I had a bad orgasms-less marriage for 14 years, and Sir is the first guy to be able to give me orgasms.)

So while there has been little kink, it has been offset by better things elsewhere.

So why am I being an ungrateful bitch??
No clue


I am tired.. I know that.
Physically tired, emotionally exhausted and at times, a little homesick for the things I have left behind.


I don't know the answer.
I am not entirely sure I ever knew the question.

I am damn sure all I have managed to do is confuse myself rather than clear my head like I thought things would.

I need a holiday.

Weekend fucktoy....

What do you pack when you get a trip away as a birthday present?

I suppose that would depend on the destination.

For me?? It was a kink-friendly, Dungeon/ Bed and Breakfast long weekend away.

Required packing therefore included corsets, sex toys, whips, chains, rope, dildo's, vibrators, blindfolds, crops and many other things I am sure I didn't even get to see.

This venue is like no other that I know of.

Imagine if you will,  private bedroom, with adjoining fully-equipped dungeon. En-suite. And double french doors out to a private garden complete with a St Andrews cross, cage and an old fashioned barber's type chair.

Sound like heaven yet??

Now add a private maid, well versed in all things kink, at our beck and call 24 hours of the day while we were there.

Cooked breakfast every morning.

Access to a library filled to the brim with kinky books.

A large screen TV, and enough porn to last me 5 years.

Sound like something out of a kink fairy tale?? It was.

Want more??

One of our hosts was a professional photographer.

This is one of over 150 images I came home with. 34 of those Sir and I picked as our favourites.

I am a very lucky slut.

I had one of the best weekends of my life.

I was toyed with.
Treated like a fucktoy.
Beaten.
Teased.
Wore a chastity belt for the first time in my life.
Was chained naked in a dungeon.

All thanks to my Sir, who purchased the weekend away as a birthday present. Can't think of a present I have enjoyed more.

Thank you Sir. I love you, always.

Old times and New beginnings..

It's New Years Eve here in Australia.
The end of an eventful year for me, and the beginnings of another are just hours away.

I have faced court ordered property settlement, a hysterectomy, I have met the love of my life, moved hours away from my family and hometown to begin a new life with Him, I have a new car, and a new motorcycle.
I have lost friends, and gained new ones.
I have found out some of those trite cliches that everybody sprouts are actually more like home truths. And that those that have been through it, often are the ones to let you learn the hard lessons yourself. Sometimes learning the hard way is also the only way.

I have said goodbye to people that have played an important part of my life, and I have met others who will be a constant source of amusement, friendship and inspiration.

It hasn't been a huge year kink wise. In the last 12 months, I have managed only 2 kink events....3 if you count last New Years Eve. But I haven't missed it really. The public scene is great in small doses for me, but it is not where I want my kink life based permanently.

I look back, remembering last New Year's Eve, getting ready at a friends home, chatting with another girlfriend on why it was I was single.
I know I was a constant source of consternation to those who knew me. I didn't actively chase men, nor did I encourage their advances towards me. My "dickhead" radar serves me well, I knew who wanted what, and what I was prepared to give, and those who advanced wanted me not for myself, but for what they imagined I could give.
She asked me to list all those things I wanted in a man. I did try and tell her this was as fluid as a river, that what I wanted now didn't mean it was what I needed or what I would need in the future. Nevertheless, she asked me to list the superficial things that turned me on, the things that given a choice, would accompany brains, intelligence and a sense of humour.

My reply?

Tall.
Standing 5'9" and having a penchant for high heels, I like to still remain shorter than those I stand beside. (in a romantic sense, most of my friends are 4 feet fuck all tall)

Dark.
The one time I deviated from this...it landed me in a bad marriage.

Bald.
I liked the idea of the freshly shaven head. I had never had the opportunity, but I wanted to try it.

Tattoo's
As the owner of 5 tattoo's (at the time) I appreciated those whose art choice were worn on their body as mine are.

Bikie/Trucker.
This is where my inner rev head slut appears. There is nothing better than a machine revving between your thighs, or the vibrations that pass through your body as a truck descends with its engine brakes on.

I figured, as long as I could get somewhere close to that list, I was going to do ok. It would at least take care of the sexual attraction bit. At least.....on my behalf.

I quickly then added 'Accent'
I am an accent slut. I have been known to hold completely inane conversations with total strangers for the simple reason, that they had an accent. Similarly, I have been known to follow men around the supermarket because they smell a certain way.

She laughed at me.

So there we were, half dressed, no makeup, she is laughing so hard she is nearly peeing her pants and I am frowning.
She gets out her phone, sends a text message and says not much more on the subject.

We ventured out and about. To a kink club. With other friends.

She then informs me, I should not be surprised if I get a message on Fetlife in the next couple of days. She has recommended that a friend of hers send me a message.
Being the insatiably curious girl I am, I then ask who.....quickly backing it up with the excuse of needing to know who she had sent in case I got other requests from our night out. She tells me, and I ponder the fact it might be lucky the car was stationary, lest I drive into something in my shock.

The gentleman she had messaged was a play partner of hers, and one I had already perved on from the comfort of my couch.

He messaged the next day, hungover. And as best I can recall, that was the extent of the communication for the next 2 weeks.

Next event....who happened to be there??? Said handsome perved upon gentleman.
Annnnd being the matchmaker she is, my friend had coached him into greeting me with an Irish saying, spoken (of course) in the thick Irish accent.

That was it.
I was done for.
Excitement ran down my leg....literally!

It was the beginnings of something I had no idea would result in the things it has.

2 weeks from that day, we had our first date. It lasted more than 8 hours, and ended with my declaration of love....and Him riding His motorcycle into the sunset.

Almost 12 months later, I love Him more today than I did then.
We are combined under 1 roof, kids, cats motorcycles and all.

Tonight I am not preparing myself for a kink event. I am not even preparing myself to leave the house.

What I am doing is contemplating on how many Wii games that 5 kids will have me playing, or how many popcorn kernels will I have to vacuum off the floor tomorrow.

I love you MY Sir, and even though you are not able to be here with me tonight at midnight, know that you mean the world to me.

I love you always.

I am yours forever more.

You are my everything and my happiness.

My Happiness

the humiliated slut..

She lies on the bed, bound and blindfolded.

There is music playing softly, loud enough to muffle the rifling of the war bag, but not loud enough to hide the click of the camera.

He is out there, taking pictures of her exposed body, the parts of her she hides from the world.
The thighs that are fatter than she likes.
The stretch marked stomach that is evidence she has given birth to children.
The breasts that are smaller than she always dreamt of having.
The scars from surgeries to correct her health.
Every mark and blemish on her body is in full view of Him and His camera.

If He was any other man, she would be feeling humiliated.

Humiliated and exposed.

Dirty and degraded.

Used and abused.

And yet... with Him, she feels loved.
Wanted.
Desired.
Trusted.
And respected.

The clicking stops.

His hands touch her body instead of the camera.

His fingers touch her, open her, expose her to His view.

He can see inside her, see the place His cock goes, His tongue goes, and His fingers enter.

He holds her open, using various toys on her clit. Playing with immeasurable patience. Taking His time, gauging her every reaction, seeing which affects her more.

She struggles mentally between the desire to relax and enjoy His ministrations, and the desire to hide from Him. The teachings of believing having someone do this to you is dirty and wrong. Her body knows which desire overrides the other. The wetness He sees tells Him that this turns her on.

He knows every inch of her body.
He has touched and played, teased and tortured.

The things they do may seem humiliating to some.
The names He calls her are not those acceptable in a public forum.
The things they do are not those her mother 'talked' to her about, prepared her for.

And yet....each and every thing they do, each and every name He calls her, each and every time He touches her, she loves Him more.

a slut in control...

I was given the opportunity this week to take control.

In the bedroom.

Sexually.

Presented with a naked male and told I had complete control to do whatever I wished.

*insert major panic attack*

Not a random male.

Sir.

I faltered. I am pretty sure I stuttered, and I am damn sure my eyes were wider than saucers.

"Ummmm, you do know that the bit about being a sub means NOT taking control right?" was the first thing out of my mouth.

"But, but.........I, ummm, errrrrrr, oh boy, sheesh" was next.

In that sixty seconds I realised that NOT taking control has become a habit I don't want to give up.
I was lost. I don't remember ever taking control like Sir was offering, and to be honest, it had no appeal. But in that instance I realised something..... It must get tiring to always be the one to make the decisions, to be the one who takes control, who plans what will happen next, with no input from a loving partner. (Moans, squeals and squeaks don't count as input, just so you know)

He reads me very well. In the past few weeks, Sir has seen close up and personal to the stress that I allow get to me occasionally, and the sassiness in me takes over. But it is an unconscious behaviour, and not one I had noticed until Sir pointed it out to me. He has become adept at taking that stress and beating it out of me with great success. I turn into Suzy Homemaker afterwards apparently. Cooking, cleaning and smiling a LOT.

But there are times when we want mostly normal adult raging hot fucking and kinky sex time, without it being to de-stress one of us, and it's those times that I am sure it becomes exhausting to always be the one to 'make the first move' and always be in control. Having said that, I have absolutely no interest in being in control and making any decisions in that scenario.

Hmmmmm impasse.


I am coming to respect the Dominants in a different way than I have before, as I suspect they often feel the same way about submissives. There is something innately awe inspiring about watching someone successfully achieve something that is a completely foreign concept, that often you cannot imagine undertaking yourself.

I don't want to take control, and therefore, am in awe of those who can and do with success.

Sir amazes me when He reads my moods, correctly judging those times I crave the need to feel control, HIS control.

But maybe, just maybe, I need to be more proactive in a submissive way in those 'in between times'

make up your mind..

I have been pondering on why it is that I haven't felt the need to blog lately, and have come up with zilch. The fact that life is hectic and busy is probably part of it, the fact that kink is hard to find time for these days is probably another. The fact that I am busy enjoying new vanilla friends, a new job, a new house, a new garden, and a whole new life is also part of things.

But for the most part.... I have generally had nothing to blog about.

BDSM seems to have taken a back seat in our life.

I don't mean this to sound as if Sir and I are vanilla... far from it. He still randomly bites me, I still ask permission for orgasms, and last weekend I learnt that calling Sir a cunt gets me punished with various implements when I get home, but other than the occasional 'mini' session, life is pretty vanilla. And more wonderful than I expected.

Sure, I often daydream about what might happen if we got a few hours together.....alone..... with no kids. Then we get them, and we do the things we can't do with 5 kids in tow... shopping, housework, gardening, general errands and then it's school collection time and our alone time comes to an end.

Sometimes I miss it, other times I don't.

The more stressed I get, the more I crave. And it is odd, because I have become addicted to orgasms, but yet, I often crave control that is non-sexual.

Being expected to have done something, to do something that is asked, to wear something in particular, all small controlling actions that have a huge affect on my psyche.

I guess this mini blog is proof that you can just never know what goes on in a submissive girl's head.

The lucky slut....

Do you know why I am lucky??

No...good. Grab a coffee and find a comfy seat, I'm about to tell you.

Two years ago....

I was newly single. BDSM had never entered my world except for the occasional joke about me wearing thigh high boots and using handcuffs on guys who pissed me off. Never in my life have I owned or worn thigh high boots, nor at that time, had I ever used handcuffs.

I had the reputation of being a bitch. This came about from the guy who's front teeth I punched out when he refused to stop grabbing my arse on a dance floor while out with some friends.

I knew what I wanted, and what I didn't. I am, and always have been a headstrong female. I like to get what I want, but unlike most women I know. I ask, or I get it for myself. I refuse to play stupid juvenile games to get things. Means more to me if I work for it and earn it.

I was not in a relationship of any kind. I was not WANTING a relationship of any kind. I was enjoying the freedom to do what I wanted, when I wanted without being made to feel guilty when I went out.

Over that 12 month period, I delved into BDSM. I began to explore the kinky side of me I had hidden through shame. The feelings of sexual arousal from 'kinky' things no longer made me feel ashamed, no longer did I have to deny it. There was this whole world of people just like me out there, people who revelled in being 'kinky' It opened my eyes a LOT.

I met a guy, a Dom, who became my Master. Over the next 9 months, I learnt more than I thought possible, but I know I never gave it everything. I always held back a part of me. Not through shame, or the desire to keep secrets, but with the knowledge that this was a temporary relationship. I wasn't about to hand over everything to someone I knew would eventually walk away.
Looking back, it was not an entirely emotionally healthy relationship, but it was exactly what I needed at the time. Some who paid some attention, someone who could communicate and something temporary to help me get through the end of a 14 year relationship. Sounds harsh, but it worked for the both of us, we both got what we wanted at the end of the day.


One year ago..........

I hit the end of that D/s relationship. It had taught me a lot. What I wanted, and what I didn't. It taught me to value myself like I hadn't known how to do before. It taught me I had a lot to offer someone...one day.

I began to venture into the public kink scene. I was enjoying that single feeling again..this time with a lot more confidence than I had before. I knew what I was worth, and that only someone deserving would get the things I had to offer.

One year ago, I could honestly tell you that the only person in the world who supported me was me.
I did everything. On my own. By myself. I was the strong one....always. When I needed to let go, I cried in the shower, got out, and got on with it.


This week....

This week has shown me how lucky I am.
It has been a HUGE month, emotionally.
Sir and I are moving in together...or rather, I am moving in with Sir and his kids...taking the total of kids at our dinner table to 5 every night.
I have been packing the house that I have lived in for 15 years.
I have been dealing with kids who fluctuate between 'I dont wanna go' and raging excitement in the space of 5 minutes flat.
I have been dealing with an ex who is threatening to take me to court.
I have been dealing with friends and family who have been less than supportive at times.
I have been dealing with the internal emotions of leaving what is my hometown, and the only place my kids have ever lived.
All the while, internally excited about starting a new life with Sir and his kids in a new place.
Yesterday I came crashing down.
Last day of school for the kids resulted in tears from all and sundry. The teachers, the kids, the friends, the Principal, and me. I guess to them, the finality of it all hit.
I sat looking at the chaos in the house, half packed, crap everywhere, things to get rid of, things to store, things to pack, things to sell... all things no one can help me with.
I didn't have an emotional 2 cents to rub together.
I decided I needed to see Sir more than I needed anything else.
So I got in the car.

This is where the lucky bit cuts in....

I got there, opened the door and was almost immediately enveloped in a hug. I was told to go lay on the bed.
My shoes were removed, a drink handed to me and Sir held me in His arms for a good 20 minutes...knowing intuitively that I didn't want to talk, explain....that I needed Him, silence and support.
He told me He loved me. He held me. He wiped away the tears.
He asked me where my collar was, told me to get it and sat in the chair, a pillow at His feet.
I knelt before Him, while He buckled my collar on, then stroked my hair as I knelt at His feet, my head on His knees.

We don't have a conventional D/s relationship.
I occasionally tell Him to get fucked. I often stick my finger up at Him. I can be cheeky. I am often a smart arse. I am stubborn when it comes to doing things for myself, but at the same time, pushy at Sir when I want to help Him with something he is doing.
He appreciates me for my strength, admires my independence and enjoys the sexual self confidence I have, but those things are all outweighed by what I get in return.

I get His respect.
I get His communication.
I get His unconditional support.
I get His Dominance.
And most of all, I get His love.

He appreciates me for who I am, not who He thinks I should be, or who He wants me to become.

How lucky can one girl get??

3 small things....

In a conversation with a friend today, we discussed her views on BDSM, and all that encompasses.
For her, there is 3 definable aspects, Psychological, Physical and Domestic.

The physical comes with and/or without sex dependant on who she is playing with. (As far as I know, Hubs is reserved the right to the sex part.) It can be beatings, spankings, needles and other assorted things, but it is not the act as such, more the mind space the actions place her in.

The domestic is something I have had little experience with. It is the responsibilities of maintaining her home. Being expected to do certain things around the house, or as she puts it "making sure she is not an all around lazy fuck"

The psychological is the ability to allow someone to play inside your mind. And finding someone who is a. actually able to stimulate you enough psychologically, and b. be someone you trust enough to allow to roam around in there can be a monumental effort in itself.

She feels lost because she finds herself in a place where she is getting bits and pieces of those things from varying places, in differing people.

It got me thinking..... Is it possible to get all three components from one person?

I am sure somewhere, someone has all three in their lives, but are they completely fulfilled with what they have? or are they so desensitised to kink and all things BDSM that they too crave something more?

I get the physical...with sex.
I am curious as to what the physical may be like without sex, but I don't play with others, so that is something I will discuss with Sir.

The domestic I get a touch of in a bizarre kind of way.
Between Sir and I, we have 5 kids, so I am always conscious of cleaning as I go when they are all around, I am also just as happy to sit on the couch and fold His washing when we are alone and He is watching TV or playing on the interwebz with the boys.
My one and only task domestic wise is to change the doona (quilt) covers. It is Sir's pet hate, which makes me feel useful, which it a trigger for me to feel like I have pleased Him.
But ultimately, because we do not share a house, my house is my responsibility and He feels that His house is His responsibility.

The psychological, well that is a hard one for me.
While I am very aware that Sir will always be one step ahead of me in this department, I sometimes feel like that part is something I don't have outside the times we play.
I am probably wrong (usually am) He probably plays with my head so gently I don't even see it, or He (as suggested to me) may be playing in such a manner that it is building slower than I have been used to, OR I am right (there's a first) and He isn't dipping in there at all unless we are playing.

Which brings me to having a D/s relationship over a distance, and the 'in-between' times.

I have blogged many a time about being controlled, feeling it, and the days where I struggle. My last post was about me feeling like I am missing something.

It is the control. But it is also the mind fuck. And by mind fuck, I don't mean hours of talk, or pushing boundaries, for me it can be as simple as

"Go write X on your tits and text/email me a pic, you have 15 minutes"

or

"Get the buttplug and wear it to collect the kids from school"

or

"Masturbate for as long as it takes you to get to the edge, then text me for permission to cum"

or

anything He chooses that I can physically do that puts me in the submissive mind set.

To me, the mind fuck is the trigger that switches me from the capable, assertive, intelligent woman I am, to the submissive woman.
It can be one sentence - typed, emailed,  a few words - spoken, whispered or yelled, or it can be long conversations.

It is the content, and the person behind the content, not the act.

A stranger can tell me to send a pic of my tits and they get a 'fuck off' in response.

If Sir said it, I would melt, hurry to obey and feel all squishy and clenchy inside in an instant.

The whole thing is a journey of learning.
What grossed me out and pushed my boundaries a year ago, now seems like an everything day to do and doesn't provide the spark of breathless excitement it used to. Part of that is that before...everything was new and like a honeymoon phase of a relationship, everything is new and exciting. And the other part of that is I have come to love things that I thought I would hate. And the breathless excitement used to be with fear, and now it is a sigh of pleasure at what is to come.

I don't think everyone can find all the things they need in the ways they wish it from the one person.. I think it is about compromise. Finding the things you HAVE to have, getting those from the person you love the most and compromising on the rest.

The few things I will never compromise on are

a. Sir in my life, by my side, and in my heart.
b. Being someone's priority and not an option.
c. Being valued for who and what I am.

Thank God those are things I have in my life now.
Even on the bad days, those things make me smile.

I like mine kinky.....

I have used been told to use clothes pins (pegs to all the Aussies) on my nipples.

I have had them pinched by fingers.

I have had them bitten.

I have had them sucked.

I have had them sucked into large syringe type things with suction play.

Up until a few weeks ago...I had never had the pleasure of using nipple clamps.

Sir surprised me mid play by putting nipple clamps on me.

I will say, previous to that, I was nervous about the thought of them, having heard stories of how much they hurt...and having never been one to enjoy nipple play in the past. But, I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed it.

Feeling Sir yank on the chain sent a direct fizzle of excitement straight to the clit...leaving me feeling decidedly "clenchy" on the inside.

(Boys...this is the female equivalent of being so hard it hurts.)

My cunt actually clenches involuntarily looking for something to grip onto.

Only issue I had with the clamps was they never seemed to be tight enough and with a little tug, they slipped off.

I went shopping the next day for a set of clover clamps. Needless to say...the shop I went to didn't have any.

But they did have this very pretty pair with beads and danglies.

The past couple of weeks have been hectic, both of us busy, both of us sick with the winter cough and cold that seems standard, and up until last night, they hadn't been used.

Last night Sir was in an unusual mood.
I had been particularly cheeky, teasing Him on and off during the day, but when the kids had all been put to bed...I was about to pay for the Sassy mood I had been in.( why these moods surprise Him, I will never know. He knew me as Sassy before He knew my real name. Surely the name gives a clue??)

He teased me a little, yanking my hair, being rough, calling me all those names I love to hear out of HIS mouth.....then He asked me what I wanted.

I was a little hesitant to answer, but the yank on the hair and Him repeating the question had me sure He was waiting for an answer...and quickly.

It is something that I am not entirely comfortable with.
I feel like it shouldn't be about what I want, but having said that, I do understand the reasoning that He cannot always know how I am feeling. He points out to me that even when I answer those types of questions...this is no guarantee that I will get what I ask for. I can tell Him I want a cup of coffee....but I may get tea instead. I still get a hot drink, just not what it is I am craving.

"Please Sir...may I have the nipple clamps, the butt plug, the hitachi and the blindfold?"

I didn't get the blindfold, but I was face down anyway.

I did get the butt plug...but not the small one I was expecting.

I did get the nipple clamps, but not until I was "whimpering and pleading" permission to cum.

(Sir has really taken a liking to making me beg for permission and denying me for what seems like forever before granting it)

I was borderline finding out what punishment I would receive for cumming after I had been told not to when the clamps went on. It was instantaneous and involuntary. I was on the edge in seconds.

Some more "whimpering and pleading" later.... the hitachi went on my clit, while Sir fucked me.. I had the clamps on my nipples and the butt plug up my arse.

I thought I had died and gone to heaven.
I also thought I may pass out from the strength of the orgasm I was finally allowed to have.

Most girls like jewellery. I like mine kinky.....

Please Sir...may I cum??

It has been no secret that I have had issues with orgasms in the past.

To put it bluntly... I didn't.
I did by myself..but never with a partner.

I do now.
Insert big cheesy grin

They require a little time and patience, but I do get there.

Do I have an orgasm every time Sir and I have sex??
No.

There are times when He takes what He pleases (which I love) and vaginal sex is not something I can orgasm from.
I need direct clitoral stimulation.
Vibrator or tongue. Fingers don't seem to do the job since I got my clit hood pierced.

Last night was a first for me.

Some snuggling in bed after the kids were asleep turned into me getting my nipples pinched and pulled, which evolved into some violet wand play which left me wriggling on the bed like a fish out of water, which then turned into me getting oral sex.

It is not something I was ever really comfortable with before, but since I get orgasms...it is high up there on the favourites list now.

Sir has come to know my body and reactions very well...He knows exactly where to lick, suck and touch to get me to orgasm.
Last night however...things were a little different.

The norm for me is to ask permission before orgasm, which is something like

"Sir..please may I cum?"

To which I normally get a "Yes, you may"

Last night I got a "No you can't"

The sassy cheeky devil in my head said "What the fuck? You have GOT to be kidding. NO??"

The actual sound that came out was "Ohhhhhhhhh god"

Sir stopped licking that exact spot for all of about 30 seconds and went right back at it.

I asked again.

Again He said No.

And again, and again, and again.

By this point I wanted to cry. Part of me wanted to cum so bad it was hurting and the other part was wondering if I DID get permission, would I even be able to at this point?
I am damn sure He could hear the begging in my voice as I repeatedly asked permission, only to be denied.
He rose above me and began to fuck me, whispering in my ear that He owned my orgasms, and I was not allowed to cum until He said, telling me I was His dirty slut, pulling my hair back, hand at throat, all the things He knew would turn me on more and more.
Then He went back to licking me, getting me right back to where I had been on the edge for what seemed like an eternity.

I asked yet again, this time to finally be granted permission, but I had asked about 25 licks too soon, and it felt like I was never going to get over that edge.
Sir's knowledge of my body was on show as He felt me on the edge and pushed the button I needed pushed...sending me into space.

It went on and on and on and on and on until I wanted to cry from the exquisite pain I was in.

I then got fucked hard. Hard enough that I thought I would have trouble walking today.

I had my first lesson on Orgasm denial. I am not entirely sure I liked it, but I guess thats not the point is it?

The "slave" number issue.......

I found a blog.

There's a surprise... NOT

But I digress and before I continue.. I warn you.. Please read the following with sarcasm inserted in the appropriate places. If you cannot tell where the sarcasm needs to be, this post may not be suitable for you.

Anyway, I found this blog.. written by a "slave".

I am not normally one to publicly criticise someone for sharing their feelings and documenting their journey, but I am going to, without guilt, due to the fact that I am not posting a link, nor is she ever likely to read my blog and feel bad.

Every post she has written makes me cringe.
Badly spelt, words inappropriately placed which alter the whole meaning of the point she is attempting to make, grammar seems to be a dirty word, and yet, her whole tone is that of someone who is educated.
This is an educated woman in her 40's from what I can gather, not a young 18 year old with a "drop out" degree from the school of hard knocks.

But I read on, curious as to whether she actually has a point to get to, it can be almost like a car accident.. you know you don't really want to see the carnage, but you cannot stop yourself watching.

She has a slave number.

And I can hear you saying "What's your point?"

My point is thus....

I have always held the belief that when someone is given the gift of a slave number, that their Domly Dom type is the person who is doing the registering.
Kinda like getting a collar.
You don't just go shopping for your own collar, then present it to yourself, or god forbid, just show up wearing one. (unless it is just a fashion accessory)
They are actually supposed to mean something.
(This is also the reason I will never EVER buy my own wedding ring)(again)

Similarly...the slave number.

If your Domly Dom type wants you to have one, my thoughts are he will get it and present it when the slave is deserving.

Noooooo, this badly blogging slave asked permission and then went out and got her own.

Good for her!!

Now.... I ponder, does it mean the same when you have to get your own?

Does the coffee not taste better when someone else makes it?
Does food not always taste better when someone else cooks?
Does the car not always sparkle a little more when someone else cleans it?

Does that collar not mean more that you earn it?

Maybe she did earn it I hear you say.....

Maybe she did. And if she did..does she not wonder why her Master didn't make the effort to do something like that for her?
After all, her whole world revolves around pleasing him....

If I went out and got my own slave number..it would mean jack shit to me..permission granted or otherwise.

Another communication fuckup..

I am guilty of the crime of keeping things to myself.

Is it wrong that I am hoping for a little home brand incarceration??
Ropes, handcuffs...maybe a blindfold or something??

I have failed in the one thing I actually thought I had managed to get my head around.

Communication.

I posted a couple of weeks ago that Sir and I needed some more communication.
That was when I was imagining Him lying serenely in bed, recuperating from surgery.
A car accident prior, a collapsed lung, my frantic travelling made any sort of serious communication about D/s a secondary issue for me. And I am guessing it was the last thing Sir was thinking about as well.

We have just had a weekend alone for the first time in over a month.
Bliss....pure bliss.
No cooking.
No cleaning.
A day out on the new motorcycle.
And some serious vegging out on the couch.

It wasn't until Sir had gone home and left me all sulky on the couch that I realised I had missed my best opportunity for that serious discussion.

He called me on it last night.
It started from a discussion about the stress levels we have dealt with lately.
I remarked to Sir that he should probably be grateful I wasn't there with Him, and the reason for that is I was skirting that fine line between danger and absolute brattiness.
I called Sir a fucking asshole once, and was punished with a crop.
Last night I was in the same mood.

After our chat, Sir tasked me with a writing assignment.
To explain to Him more about the mental side of my submission.

It took me most of the day to come up with something I was happy with.
I am still not convinced I explained the side of it that Sir wanted to know, but I did try.

I am guessing my writing is the tip of the iceberg on this issue.
And that we will be discussing it further when we get time in person.

But I did learn something today...that even when I do not realise it, that I hide things, keep things to myself. That a small part of me is still scared about giving Him the things I have never given anyone before.....all of my emotions, access to the inner me, the whole part of me I had never given anyone access to before.

I need to learn to communicate better.

Go on then.... Make me..

The idea of consensual non-consent has always appealed to me.

I never want to be in the position of being sexually abused in any way, or afraid of being attacked, but the thought of saying No, and having someone you trust take it from you anyway, appeals to me.

I have always wondered about how exactly consensual non-consent would work.
I am a submissive.
I not only love and trust my Sir, but I don't say no, and not because I am not allowed, but because I don't choose to. How can I say no to something I want so much??
So am I supposed to say no even though I don't want to, rendering any non consent a whole load of bullshit??
Put up a weak resistance?? Fight back??? How exactly does this work??

If at this point you are thinking in your head that consensual non consent works better with a stranger, someone I don't know, someone I can really say no to...then I aint trying it. Not going there.

I am currently having a mini holiday with Sir, a full week together, sometimes with kids, sometimes not, but yesterday I had to go to work for the day.
6am alarm, 7am leave. Sir made me coffee before I left, packed another in a travel mug for me to take, He then spent the day doing everything except anything for Himself. Looking after kids, cooking, cleaning, washing, all while I was at work.
I arrived home 12 hours after I had left, tired, and with a headache.
At some point over dinner, a shower, then a nap on the couch, I decided that while I would never be able to effectively say NO, that after such a day, me saying no, may just get a reaction that I wouldn't normally on any other given day.

I honestly don't believe consensual non consent can work for me when He knows I am only playing, to me, it has to be believable. So.... last night I said No, amongst other things.
Words like 'maybe', 'if you think you can' and the whole time, said in that tone of voice that reeks of sarcasm and intent to piss Him off.
I didn't want to say No to Sir.
I wanted to be in His arms in bed.
I wanted to play.
I wanted to make love.
But I also knew that I am very rarely in a  mood like that, and that if I took advantage of the mood, that Sir would push harder than normal, hence we would both get to experience something different.

Sure, for those of you sitting there thinking I was topping from the bottom, you can think that, but consider the options....

I could have sat here on the couch, explained to Sir what I would like to try, then with permission, use a half hearted No, to which He would have known meant Yes because of our prior discussion, and what would have resulted would have been a wasted effort for both of us.

OR

I could and did, become a smart arse, challenging Him to take what He wanted, while I used as much resistance as I could manage, without really fighting back (I cannot possibly hurt Him) which resulted in me in tears over the pain in my arse, and a hair style Medusa would have been jealous of. Something about having half the hair yanked out of my head, being spanked until I literally couldn't take any more, and then having Sir take what He wanted turned me on.

Having said that, I don't think I am in a hurry to do it again.
And not because my butt is still sore, but because as much as I am a smart arse, being deliberately smart as compared to being smart and teasing in a playful manner, are two totally different things.
One I enjoy, the other not so much.

It is just not fun saying No to someone you want so much, but I am glad I did it, if only for one reason....

It proved to me how much I trust Him and how much that trust is well placed.

Pull my hair just one more time......

I have been reading things a little differently lately. As in, I get on Fetlife most days, and read threads about BDSM, the whole D/s dynamic and I always have, but lately it seems to be sinking in differently.

A thread this morning about hair pulling and what other subs thought of having hair pulled made me sit and think about the times I have had mine yanked.

It can be as simple as a handful, held tight, pulling at the scalp, just to remind me HE has control, or it can be a fistful while being fucked doggy from behind, getting things a bit rougher, it can be being led by the hair to be placed in a position that pleases Him, is is many different kinds of things, but each and every one of them turn me on.
There is something primal that appeals to me about having His hands in my hair, whether it hurts or not, there is always the reminder of His control.

Collars, Cuffs and Restraints.
Another subject that gets me going...
Sir surprised me with a Collar some weeks ago, it is something I sleep in every night He is not beside me. It is an unusual collar, and not one I had ever seen before. Black leather, with rings that join the leather sections, but it dips in the front, almost like a necklace. It is almost an inch thick, so not something that nilla people would find normal around my neck at all, but something about the difference of it appeals to me.
I love that it sits differently. the weight of it around my neck reminds me of who owns me, but it is not restrictive on my throat. And the more I wear it, the softer it is becoming, like a favourite pair of boots.
Cuffs are something we are still working on. I have skinny wrists, which mean that skinny cuffs often are loose and cut in on my wrists, and there comes a point where the pain in the wrists overtakes the pain I feel elsewhere, and my brain focuses on the wrists and not the sensations elsewhere in my body.

I have friends locally who are kinky, and I would pop over for a coffee and a catch up, only to find her dressed as He wished, this was without a doubt always with wrist and ankle cuffs. She wore them with ease, they were on so often they became part of her routine when at His house. I have no doubts, even without asking that she was never allowed to place them on, or remove them, that it would have been part of a ritual they had that when she arrived, He would place them on, even if no playing was on the cards.

I went out with a friend one night, and borrowed ankle and wrist cuffs to wear... they were heavy around me, but something that I soon got used to.. at the end of that night, a joke was had and chains were locked on to me, leaving me with wrists chained together and the same on the ankles... something that will not surprise those who actually know me, that joke resulted in me asking politely to have them removed and when they were not, I went to bed in another room with them still on. I was not giving that person the satisfaction of me asking twice. the next morning we found they had stuck to my skin during the night and had to be almost peeled off. My raised eyebrow may have told him that if he had done as I asked that this never would have happened and an apology was soon forthcoming.
My point is, Collars and Cuffs have the same reaction on me as the hair pulling does.

Things don't HAVE to hurt, they just have to be not my choice.

Things don't HAVE to be the direct opposite of what I want, they just have to be not my choice.

Things don't HAVE to be done during play, they just have to be at a time HE chooses.

Control doesn't HAVE to be around all the time, but it makes me damn horny when it is......

Not your average couple...

I sat down this morning, having the feeling in my head that I had something that I wanted to say, but when I opened the page to begin a blog post, the thoughts were gone.

Occasionally I get a nagging feeling like I want to blog something, but I don't know what it is I actually want to write about.
Like there are thoughts in there that are trying to get out, let me help make sense of something, or help me realise something. My blog is not a place for me to pass judgement, or to push my opinion on others, it is just my place to express myself in a way I normally wouldn't.

Chatting to Sir after the earlier blog post, He told me He loves to read what I have written, that I express myself differently in the blog than I do when we are together.
I remarked that is because I have the ability to write, delete, re-write until I am happy with the way it sounds, and although sometimes my fingers cannot keep up with the thoughts, I often delete and re-word what I have written so there is no misconceptions.
I can't do that in person, I have to explain myself differently.

I thought about that after we had chatted... I am different on here because - here I am completely submissive in a different way than I am when we are together.
I am ALWAYS His.
I am ALWAYS submissive to Him
But here it is different to when we are together.

I can get bossy in RL, I get all protective, I fuss more, I am just different.

I know I can get complacent in my submission occasionally, and I don't mean that I am not submissive, but meeting us as a couple, you may be forgiven for not being able to see that I am a sub. And of course, this doesn't apply to the vanilla world. Neither Sir or I force our kinks onto those who don't consent, so to vanilla people, we are just another couple in love.

But around other kinky people, I can be submissive, call Him Sir in front of others, and have Him yank my hair, bite me.... whatever it is He chooses to do, and it is all ok. And there are times where I say things not many other subs would, or do things they would never dream of, and it is ok with Him.

A lot of the time we have kids around, and I don't just hand over control of my kids, I still have to maintain normalcy when they are around, and Sir does also. In those times, we are just a normal couple

My point is... outside the bedroom, I am equal.
Yes, there are always times when he says something, does something, and reminds me of my place, but it is not 100% on show all the time.
This past weekend, I felt more control than I have before, and not that He didn't control me, but it surfaced differently. I can sit here and know without a doubt, that His dominance over me grows more and more, and that His confidence as a Dom, gets stronger every time we are together.

I know when I am told to do something, that it is like a switch has been flipped, it's show time!!
There is also a look He gets on His face, that's when I know something is coming my way...

I am not sure He knows the reaction those things have on me, He certainly knows that He turns me on, but something as simple as "I want.." or "Go and do..." and the tone of voice used, they make me literally quiver on the inside. I melt. And I am not sure he even notices that his voice changes when He says those things, that His accent gets stronger, the timbre changes, which in itself, turns me on.



We are not the conventional Dom-sub couple, we follow very few of the 'accepted D/s rules' but without a doubt, our strength as a couple is as strong if not stronger than anything I have seen with my own two eyes.

I wonder what my thoughts will be about the control this time next year?

oh Yeah, and I finally found the motivation to finish off the changes to the blog.
This is a complete fresh start for me, this is the journey I am hoping lasts forever.

You are a "Fucking Arsehole Sir"

About 10 days post op, I had the weekend with Sir.

We played a little, and considering the fact that I am not supposed to being having any kind of penetration, the play was very limited.
That and the fact that I had major abdominal surgery....it is all relevant, but to my eternal frustration, I was and still am feeling almost back to normal besides having little strength and tiring more easily.

The worst of feeling ok and not sick is that I forget that I am not supposed to do a lot of things.
I would have fucked the living daylights out of Sir, but He never forgets I am unwell and limits things.

On the Saturday we were laying on the bed, and to be honest, I am not sure how it started, but what seemed like eons later and having had Sir's fingers playing on my clit and on the verge of my pussy, teasing me, the frustration inside me built to a point that my mouth shot a load and I called Sir a "Fucking Arsehole"

Yup, not one of my brighter comments.

Out came the crop

And after one strike for every letter in "Fucking arsehole" my arse looked like this...

The both of us laughed.
This was not what I would have called punishment, more like a lesson learnt about getting my mouth in check while there is a crop handy.


The following weekend I travelled to see Sir again, this time with 2 kids in tow.
For those that know me in RL, they will know this is a huge deal for me, in the past I kept my kids well away from anything to do with my kink life.
This is not just about kink, this is us having a relationship, being in love and being a family.
Sir also had His kids for the weekend.

Sir + Me + Kids = 7

Just us and 5 kids.

I was not expecting a kink filled weekend.
Probably not expecting ANY kink if I am truly honest.

Friday night began with Beer and a Blow Job.
Saturday was kid day, followed by Sir taking one of the older kids out for the night and me having some fun with the younger ones at home.
More Cock worship for Sir when He came to bed.
Sunday Morning was hectic, kids were all up by 8, neither of us had enough sleep, kids decided that quiet was for children that lived elsewhere and acted accordingly, phones beeped and chirped with plans for the day and before long the frustration at knowing I had to pack up, leave, drive home and leave Sir got the better of me.
I got to a point where I felt like this

I am pretty sure that Sir noticed the mood and we were laying on the bed together, He began teasing me, only because of the frustrations my reaction to the teasing was not the normal one, I was in an odd mood, and not feeling particularly submissive.
I leaned over and said quietly "you are a Fucking Arsehole Sir"
I knew the minute I said it, that I would pay for it, but with 5 kids in the next room, what I didnt expect was Sir to bounce off the bed, and pick up a Cricket Bat, albeit a small, miniature size one and use it on my butt.

By the third whack all I wanted to do was scream Red, but in my head I knew I never would.
I was in no danger of being HURT, only being left in pain.
I would probably raise the attention of any or all of the 5 kids, which would create questions I have no desire  to answer any time soon
AND I deserved it.
I was disrespectful and if nothing else, that left me disappointed in myself.

After the 4th whack, the handle on the bat broke.
I was then pulled off the bed, walked into the adjoining bathroom and leant over the bath to take the remaining whacks with the crop.
By the time Sir had finished I was in tears.
Knowing I had disrespected Him.
Feeling like I had disappointed myself.
Angry with myself that I couldn't communicate my frustrations in a better way than by saying something so blatantly stupid.
All those and more.

I have been punished before, never in person, only online and I KNOW that I could have just refused to do what I was told to do as punishment, more than likely my ex Master would never have known whether I did it or not, but I always did it.
This time I wasn't doing something to myself, I had someone right there to inflict the punishment in person, on the spot and instantly.

When Sir stopped swinging the crop, He turned me around to face Him.
I do not know whether He had something in mind to say and didn't because He saw tears, or whether He just wanted to see my face, but we then had a hug and a discussion on the why.

We have backed that up with another discussion on the why today.
I said the wrong thing.
I was not respectful
I disappointed myself even if I didn't disappoint Him
I took my punishment
I am not in a hurry to repeat it
BUT
I learnt something from this...

Sir's love for me will not prevent Him from dishing out deserved punishment.
That I need to learn another way to communicate to Sir that I need to feel His control
That I love Him more today than I did before.

And that holding my feet on the walk-in-robe sliding door prevents kids from opening it while I am providing Sir with one last blow job before I go home.

Alone, but never lonely again....

I sit here alone.

There is no one in the house but me.

But yet, I am not lonely.

Sir is with me always.
He left a little while ago, leaving me here, marked, bruised, and very happy.

This has been a weekend of firsts for me.

The first time I have spent a weekend with someone since I became single over a year ago.
I have spent time with friends, but this is different.

We weren't more than 15 feet apart the entire weekend.
Normally, after that long in one persons company, I would be craving a little solitude, a little 'me' space, some time alone to do the things I wish to do, and yet I sit here, wishing he was beside me.

We ticked quite a few things off the 'bucket list' of things we wish to experience together.
Some D/s, some not.

I have new barbells in my nipple piercings.
Placed there by Sir.
These fit, the others were too big, now they sit flush, each side, with no space to get caught on things.

It was not quite the weekend either of us were expecting.
We both have ex partners, children and life sometimes gets in the way of best laid plans.

But even though it wasn't quite what I was expecting, in some ways, it was better than I thought.
To be able to wake up in his arms twice, to tick morning sex off the bucket list, to introduce Sir to some of my family, to meet friends of his, to laugh at things in the sex shop, to just be a 'normal' couple for a little while, was something I didn't even know how much I would enjoy.

I have blogged in the past that my ex-Master got a part of me no one else did, and I stand by that statement.
He did.
He no longer gets that part of me.

Instead, I found that there is more that I can give, things I have taken for granted, things I used to do a LONG time ago, that were never appreciated, taken for granted, are now the same little things that I can, will, and want to do again.
I was taught to appreciate my inner slut.
Now I revel in it.

Knowing I can walk around naked, all the bits of me that are pre-loved, used and worn with age are not only liked, but appreciated and loved.

I am different with Sir than I have been with others.
I cannot sit next to him and not touch him in some way, it may only be a hand on the leg, or a brush or arms, but there is a need inside me to touch.
Sitting at his feet, while having coffee with my family.....not a big deal to most, and yet to me, Fucking awesome. My family think nothing of me sitting on the floor, it is a place they find me often, and yet they cannot know how 'right' it felt for me to be there, at HIS feet.
I can do the little things, get a drink without asking, I can see by the look on his face when he needs to be touched, hugged, kissed. There is a connection there like I have never known before.
And yet when we are alone, I get to be his dirty little slut.
I do not have to be ashamed of the things I want, of the fact that I love the way he fucks me, touches me, leaves me marked.

This upcoming week will be a test for me.
I have always had to be the strong one, do things for myself, take care of things.
I am not used to being looked after, not sure when the last time was I could admit that I wasn't ok.
I have surgery this week.
Up to a week in hospital, then another full week of bed rest.
I am looking forward to being better. Not fixed completely, but better than I am now.
No more daily pain.
No more bleeding.
No more worry about having to be careful where I go, what I do, and whether or not I have a bag and the things I need with me 'just in case'

I am a lucky girl.
To be able to give everything I have always wanted to give, to someone I love, trust, respect, honour and adore, and to know that it is appreciated, and those things are returned to me......there are no words to explain how that makes me feel.

I shared my blog this morning with Sir, while we were laying in bed.
I have waited to show him, I wanted to do it in person, to explain my journey, to let him know that this is where I do my thinking, to explain why there haven't been many blog posts lately.
I knew I could do all this over the phone, or online, but I didn't want to.
Much like telling him that I had fallen in love with him, it wasn't something I wanted to drop casually into the conversation, nor something I wanted to do from a distance.
I wanted to do it while I was safe in his arms.
I inherently knew that he would understand.
The fact he has someone in his past who he loves, but is not 'in love' with means it is easier to share my journey with him. I know he will understand. And the majority of it, I had already told him in some form or another.
Sir knows about my ex-Master, knows how much I am grateful of all the things he taught me, it is because of him, that I am the way I am. How can I not appreciate that?


But this is different.

This is Love, our life together, with a dash or 5 of kink to spice it up.
We might be a long way apart in terms of distance, but this is no LDR.
We plan on having as much time together as we can, whether it be vanilla with kids, or 'just us' or kinky and out and out dirty, slutty, forbidden, glorious fun on our own.

The thing that sticks in my mind the most is...

I was married, and could sit here with my ex in the same room and I was lonely.

Now I am with Sir, and I can sit here alone, but I am never lonely.

Safe in his arms..

He takes me by the hand, leads me into a darkened room, stopping in the middle.

Still holding my hand - he faces me...kissing my forehead, a gentle pressure on my shoulder pushing downwards.

Instantly I kneel on the floor at his feet, his hand brushing my hair as it passes his fingertips, our fingers slipping apart slowly.

He stands behind me, a blindfold slipped over my eyes gently.

Music begins from an unknown place, calming, serene, the blindfold and the music combining to send me into a relaxed state.

He kneels in front of me, his hand brushing gently across my cheek, one finger tracing the features on my face.

I can only imagine what he sees...a submissive woman, kneeling before him, knowing she gives him all of her self, that no matter what he chooses to do with her, that she will still feel the same for him afterwards, that he has her complete trust to take what he wishes.

He touches me gently in many places, my shoulders, neck, face, breasts, thighs, always gently, softly, caressing and teasing.

One finger lifts my chin and he kisses me....touching our lips together softly.

He stands, pulling me gently to my feet to stand naked before him.

I feel him lift my hands high above my head, fastening them to the restraints in the ceiling.

I now stand naked, arms high above my head, nipples hard, wetness glistening on my thighs, feet apart and his for the taking.

He runs the flogger gently over my back, the touch of the leather on my skin making me shiver.

The music plays on, as my head rolls gently from side to side in anticipation of what is coming... knowing no matter what happens next, the night will finish with me safe in his arms.

untitled writing 4 continued.....

The rhythm of the 2 cocks inside her make the wetness run faster down her thighs, the drool running down her chin, they are using her, taking from her what they wish.
The cock in her pussy is fucking her hard, pounding, his hands alternating between gripping her hips and slapping her arse cheeks, maintaining the redness her Sir had left there earlier.

Both cocks suddenly leave her, she gasps for air and moans, wishing they had given her more.

Hands touch her body, moving her, positioning her, making her straddle the stranger, his cock disappearing again into her pussy, as she is pushed forwards, Sir's hands pinching and twisting her nipples.

Sirs voice is in her ear, telling her to ride the cock hard as his hands play all over her body.
She feels a cold wetness against her arse. She gasps, knowing Sir has just lubed her arse for his cock.

A finger enters her arse as the cock she sits on thrusts hard up into her. She bites her bottom lip, knowing this is something she has always wanted to try and never had the opportunity.
One finger becomes two, and they slide in and out of her, finger fucking her arse, getting her ready for his cock.
Sir leans down, biting her shoulder,  sinking his teeth into her deep, as his cock enters her arse.

She groans in pain as they push her limits.
She feels full, they settle there, not moving, allowing her to adjust to the cocks buried deep inside her.
She takes deep breaths, knowing their patience will not last much longer.
Sir's teeth bite back into her shoulder as the strangers hands move to pluck her nipples, and their cocks begin to move again.

She closes her eyes, reaching up and backwards, placing her arms around Sir's neck as she lets Him lead her on this new and wonderful journey.......

untitled writing 4...

She sits at His feet on the floor, her naked butt resting against the cool floor. The chains on her wrists clink together as she moves sideways, adjusting herself so she can lay her head against His leg.
His hand is in her hair, stroking her ponytail, twisting it, winding it around His fingers.
Taking hold of her hair, He pulls her hair back sharply, twisting her neck until she can see His face.
"I have a surprise for you pet"
She smiles as He fits a blindfold over her eyes.

He tells her to kneel in the middle of the floor. She can hear Him gathering things, placing them close by, the music is turned up slightly, eliminating the noises she can hear as He moves around the room.

His hand takes hold of her ponytail again, pulling her head back so He can kiss her, He bites her lips and feeds from her mouth. Her head is pushed towards the floor, raising her arse in the air.

SLAP

 He spanks her butt hard, not once, but over and over until the redness covers her arse, and the wetness drips onto her thighs.

He fingers her roughly, whispering in her ear all those things He is going to do, how He will give her a night she will never forget.

The flogger is draped across her back, she feels the tendrils of leather against her skin as He teases her with it, softly touching it against her.
She begins to wriggle, impatient to feel it hitting hard against her back.

THWACK it hits her hard, making her draw a sharp breath and wriggle, her shoulders dropping closer to the floor, her butt higher in the air.

His fingers disappear into her pussy again, fingering her hard, wiping her wetness up and into her butt crack.
She shivers, knowing that He is getting ready to use her arse, that He will fuck her soon.

Much to her surprise, He walks to the front of her, lifting her head and before she is quite ready, His cock is in her mouth, gagging her, choking her.
She draws a quick breath as He leans back, ready to thrust again, and this time she takes Him into her throat, running her tongue over His hard cock as He face fucks her.

A cock is rammed into her pussy hard and she squeals around the cock that is still in her mouth.
Her whole body wriggles, trying to get away, knowing there is someone strange using her body.
He leans down and whispers in her ear...

"My Pet, it is ok, trust me"

She relaxes as soon as she hears His voice, knowing He will do her no harm, that He cares and knows what is best.

He begins to thrust into her mouth again, almost in perfect rhythm with the cock in her pussy.
Not knowing which sensation to savour the most, she lets her body take over, reaching that space all submissives strive to achieve.
She is a vessel for them to take their pleasure from, but she knows, before long, she will be begging her Sir to let her cum.