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.

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.

Caught in a school uniform...kinky style...

I blogged in my last post that I missed the control by way of tasks.

Sir hasn't been one (in the past) to assign me tasks. And it is something I do occasionally miss, but more often than not am grateful for.
While I enjoyed the finished product so to speak, more often than not I found them to be time consuming when I didn't have time, and distracting when I was busy.

Yes, I am aware this is probably sounding like the complete opposite of what I have said in a few recent posts, but it comes after some soul searching about which tasks I liked and which I hated.

I did enjoy the simple tasks, the writing on the body, the denial of underwear, things that were easily done in a second during the day.
The others...meh, not so much.

Sir text me today that He was horny, so, in usual Sassy style, I took a pic of my tits with "this help?" written on my abdomen.
I was in a provocative mood..so sue me.

Texts when back and forth for a little while, and one contained the idea that we could cam online together...this was me eager to watch Sir touching His cock, and watching Him cum for me...something I love.

I then hinted I was prepared to stay home tonight from a casual get together that was organised if He wanted to make the drive to my place.....more teasing, I know.

It was like a switch had been flipped, I then was instructed to take a pic of me fingering my cunt, while wearing a school dress, and it just so happens, I have one of those I save for special occasions.

Task underway, I went to the bedroom with my iPhone and Laptop and got changed, leaving off the underwear and did as I was told.
The next instruction was to find my oldest bra and put it on.
Cutting the cups to make a peephole bra was the idea, as I soon found out.
Pic sent, I was then told to finger myself, and report as to how wet I was.
I guess by this point you could have called it 'sexting'

Before I knew it, I had porn on the laptop, phone in hand, texting Sir while playing with my cunt.

I heard the front door open and dived for my dressing gown, thinking in horror I was about to have to explain why I was wearing a peep hole bra, no panties, a short SHORT, unbuttoned school dress and white socks an hour before I had to collect the kids from school.
I just had a hand on the gown and Sir appeared at the bedroom door.

Unceremoniously thrown back on the bed, I was then shown who was Boss, and what happens when you tease and poke a sleeping bear.

A surprise visit, some rough sex, some knife play to remove my bra, and the result was me needing a shower before school pick up.

I think Sir found out today why I love those pic tasks so much, and He saw first hand what it does to me.

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.....

Threesomes.....

Something that has been on my mind this week is threesomes.

I am a threesome virgin.

But the idea of being at the mercy of two males, to use as they pleased...turns me on.

Double penetration...or add a toy of some sort and make it a triple penetration...makes me curious.

Sir has always given me the impression that He is unlikely to ever share me with another..even on a one off basis.
And I will admit to taking some security in that. It is nice to know He protects me that much.
But after a comment made about filling all my holes, combined with a blog post elsewhere on the thoughts of a male Dom on threesomes, and a couple of posts about others who have had them, all have me thinking more about it.

I shared the blog post with Sir and was surprised by His reaction.
He indicated it was something that had been on His mind lately also.

I asked why the apparent change of mind about sharing me and got the answer "because I trust you"

Am I shopping for someone to play with us??

Not in a pink fit.

Would I if asked?

If I was made to...otherwise I wouldn't.

If Sir wants to share me with another, I would rather it be someone I don't know, someone I won't have contact with again. I never want this to be an issue between us, bring a friend into it would only cause doubts as far as I can see.

But how do you find a person to trust who you don't already know and won't see again?.... that is the dilemma in my head that makes me think I will just have to keep it as a fantasy.

Luckily for me... there are toys we can use to fill more than one hole at a time.

Kneeling for Sir...

Sir and I found out earlier today that we get most of the weekend together with no kids.
School holidays start for us this Friday, and my kids are gone for a week with their father, so for once.. I do not have to rush home before our weekend is over.


Chatting earlier tonight, Sir called me a smart arse, then proceeded to tell me my arse will smart over the weekend.


Part of me sighed with relief that we will get some play time... part of me then knew I needed to explain to Sir what was going on in my head, so He can make the decisions with all the facts.


Sometimes I feel like it is easier to write things down as if I am telling a stranger, rather than tell Him direct...a little like letting Him peek inside my mind without me feeling like I am topping from the bottom.


His response to the thought of peeking inside my head 


"I  try but sometimes I need a miners lamp, a machete and a big bottle of holy water"


I am going to make the assumption He was being smart and not serious. I like to think I am a fairly simple kinda gal, straight forward and blunt, without the neurosis some women have.


Either way... He is qualified to dip around in there and the machete and holy water are only optional navigation aides.


I am absolutely looking forward to some serious play time...it feels like it has been forever. (I do know it hasn't really been thaaaat long)


But you know what??? 


More than anything I am craving a mental fuck.
I want Him inside my head, teasing and tormenting me with words, pushing me to the edge, making me a quivering, sobbing mess of emotional woman on her knees.


I may or may not also want a light touch of a flogger or two, maybe the crop if I get warmed up first, possibly some hitachi torture.... I really don't know what it is I want, and it matters little anyway, what happens will not be my choice, BUT, It is not the physical pain I am craving.


It is the mental feeling of being put in my place.


On my knees.


His property, to play with as He pleases.


At at the end of the play.. I can relish the feeling of being 'spent' and know it pleases Him to see me like that.

His Fucktoy...

Driving home from Sir's last weekend, I passed the coffee shop where I had coffee for the first time with my ex-Dom. We had met elsewhere initially, but the rain had meant that venue wasnt going to work, so we drove to a coffee shop close by.
At the exact moment I realised where I was, and that I was almost stopped in traffic right outside the door, a song came on the radio.
It is one I have listened to many times, and love the words too, it speaks to me in a way not a lot of songs do, hits a spot inside if you will call it that.
This song has parts that could be word for word how I feel, some parts not so much, but I didn't write the bloody thing, so that's to be expected.
I am not going to pick out the parts that I identify with, nor the parts that don't mean as much, I will leave that for another day perhaps, and possibly whoever reads this has someone in their past that this song could have been written about, or knows someone like it.
Sir and I discussed a few different things today, stuff about the past, about the future, about the present, and I mentioned to Him that I had heard this song at the exact moment I went past the coffee shop where I had had that first meeting, I played Him the song while He held me in His arms, standing in the lounge.
It is almost like a closure for me that I hadn't had until now.
I never got a last chance at goodbye, once we came back from our trip away, I found out I was sick, and before I knew it goodbye was said....online only of course.
I guess in my mind I always thought there may have been a coffee, a hug and one last goodbye and wishing each other well, but there seems to have been too many things said to make that viable.

Probably more to the point, I feel like it is no longer needed either.
I have gotten rid of the things in the box tied with a bow.
I have sat and thought a lot about the past lately, I am not sure why it is now, life is quite busy for me, it is not like I sit here with time on my hands and nothing to do.

Within the first few months of me starting on my journey, I had spazzed out more than once, and looking back on it, I was fucked up.
Not fucked up bad, but definitely not my normal usual self.
I would cry a helluva lot more than normal. I didn't cope with things that I normally would have, and most importantly, I put up with things that I would have told anyone else to go fuck themselves over.

I am not saying I was treated badly.
I have no regrets.
I learnt a lot and those things I will forever be grateful for.
But I allowed myself to be treated in a way that I could no longer do.
It was never EVER without respect...this is in no way shape or form an attempt at disrespecting my ex-Dom, he made it crystal clear right from the very beginning, before we ever met how this would be.
I accepted his terms and conditions and I did so without coercion, without pressure and knowing the truth about how this would be.

Having said that, I think back to accusing him of making me feel like his fucktoy, that I was something he had sitting on his shelf, to be taken down and played with at his beck and call.
Sir has a pet name for me, something He takes great pleasure into whispering in my ear at different times in that oh so alpha tone of voice that makes you know exactly where your place is in His life....
I am His Fucktoy.
It is one of many words He calls me, it goes hand in hand with slut, whore, bitch and variations thereof.
But it is when He calls me Fucktoy that I melt inside.
It is one of those words that I used to hate, and now I love.
I am His Fucktoy, but the difference is, I don't ever feel like He places me on a shelf to be used when convenient. I am there to be used when and wherever he chooses, and the other times, I am content in His arms, knowing I am loved.


Now I sit here with a very sore arse, and a tender cunt, having today learnt the difference between being fisted and being fist fucked, and knowing that Sir was the first man to have ever cum up my arse.
Psychologically that was a feeling I never expected. Sir has given me many firsts, but knowing He came up my arse and was the first person to do that, make me smile in a way I never expected.
I ineffectively tried to explain it to Him at the time, but I am fairly sure it is something unexplainable, almost like giving Him a virginity of some kind.

Today was not the beginning of a journey, nor the end of another, but it was a day I will remember for a long time.

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......

Never say Never......

Before Christmas, my grandfather was visiting.

He is a wonderful man, as I am sure most people's grandfathers are if they are lucky enough to have them.
This hasn't been a great year for him. Earlier in the year, he lost the love of his life. My Grandmother.

Mind you, they had a  long and wonderful life together.

Gramma was 97 when she died.
Pop is 86.

I used to tease Gramma she was a cougar. I remember the first time I called her that, I had to explain it to her.
I don't really know how effective my explanation was as she then just commented to me,

 'Don't know about that, All I know is I loved him'

Even in the last few days, Gramma and Pop had photos taken together.
When Mum showed me, I can remember saying to her....

'You can see the love....How much in love they still are, even after all these years.'

Pop is still the same Pop I had before, but without the love of his life now.

He asked me before Christmas when he was visiting, when I planned on getting married again.

The old fashioned part of him refuses to accept I can do anything I like without having to have a husband to 'look after me' so to speak.
He knows I am very independent. He knows I like having my own time, doing things as I please.

I can remember thinking to myself, there is no point in saying to Pop that I would never get married again, that the marriage I had just ended, left me disillusioned about the whole idea.
I could get no communication, ordinary vanilla sex and no love from strangers...why would I want to tie myself to that??
Best I was hoping for was someone I could be with when I had no kids, who cared for me, would be happy to tie me up and spank me, fuck me silly and shove his cock down my throat. And someone who would go home to their own house and leave me to have the space I wanted without the whinging that they were being ignored mid week, or that on the weekends I had the kids, that I gave my time to the kids and not to them.

My last few blog posts have told the tale of me falling in love, starting a new journey, recently collared, always owned and other wonderful soppy romantic things.
I have touched on the kink, but my surgery has made that hard. Hard for us to work out how to have the kink we need in our lives as well as hard for me to deal with, that this is something that I am causing.

Yes Sir, you can stop growling now that it is not my fault, I get that.
I love you Sir.
But it is my body that has the restrictions placed on it.
I am the one who is limited to the things I can do.
They are both facts.
Another fact.... I KNOW you are ok with it.
But it frustrates me, as you have seen this weekend, when I was

 'begging you like a 15 year old school girl to "just put the tip in, no one will know"'

The very fact that 10 days post op, that I was tied, bound, blindfolded and made to cum, makes me smile  like a fucking idiot.
And only partly over the orgasm bit.
I also had the crop over my arse this weekend.

"Fucking Arsehole" is not an acceptable thing to call Sir, even after the torturing and teasing he was inflicting on me.

Lesson learnt. rubs arse in recollection


But the whole point of the blog post is....

Because Pop would never have understood why I was never going to even contemplate the possibility of ever getting married ever again... I told him that I would only ever think about it...

'IF I meet someone who loves me as much as you loved Gramma. IF I find someone who I think will still love me when I am 90. Then I will think about it...until then, I am fine just as I am'

You know how sometimes you say things...only to have them jump up and bite your arse.....yup, feels like this could possibly be one of those times.

Bruised, Bitten and happy in love

I think this is about the 3rd or 4th time I have felt like I no longer wish to blog.

The other times were all times of confusion, this time it is different.

I am content.
Happily content.
And madly and wildly in love.

I no longer wish to share things that are done to me.
I may occasionally wish to brag, or sort some issues out, but now it is different.

So my blog posts will now be few and far between as I begin a journey of a different kind.

I am owned again, but this time it is different.

This time he owns my body, my heart, my soul and my everything.
Everything I have to give is his.

And to lay in his arms, and hear the words 'I love You' whispered in my ear.....there is nothing better, especially as we admire the bite marks on my shoulders, the redness on my breasts and the bruises on my thigh from his first bare handed spanking on me.

 I love You Sir

If only I had asked....

Ever had one of those most absolutely wonderful moments in your life where half of what you did went past you so quick you missed it??

Or that you were enjoying it so much that it was just over way too soon??

And that even though you loved every second of it, that something happened which ended it too soon and you feel the slight sting of disappointment that it ended so abruptly??

I had one of those moments.

I was so far into subspace that I can barely remember anything except feeling like I was floating along, hardly knowing my name, thinking words were coming from my mouth and yet I was getting no reaction, so possibly they were really just thoughts and not actual words.

I remember the blindfold going on.
I remember my hands being bound behind my back...wrist to elbows I think.
I remember being hit with a stick like you get on a childs balloon, the stingy strike making me draw breath.
I remember being asked colors....what was the safeword? what color was I up to?
I remember His cock in my mouth, and me feeling like a newborn child nuzzling at it, trying to get it into my mouth without hands to assist.
I remember wanting His cock in my arse.
I remember feeling like I was about to come.
I remember a sharp pain, and me grabbing His wrist unconsciously, stopping myself from saying the safeword, just holding it still until I could get a deep breath or two and then letting go. I didn't need the safeword, I just needed a breath.

I remember it then ended all too soon.
I remember feeling like I wanted to cry, that it was my fault it stopped so soon.
I remember being in the bathroom with a glass of Coke and a glass filled with M & M's.
I remember the look on His face at the thought that He had hurt me.
I wont ever forget any of it.
The scene itself may fade over time, other memories of sessions yet to come to take their place, but I will never forget the feeling of knowing I was - at that exact moment in time...someone important, someone cared for in a way that I have never felt before....anywhere, and with someone who is just as important to me as I am to them.

I remember the next morning, just wanting to get on my knees and start the day off properly.
I will never forget wishing I had asked if I could...instead of sitting there wishing He would tell me to.

Curiosity caned the kitty...

I went!!!

Oh boy, I was so nervous I could have thrown up at ANY point while driving down there.
Thank goodness I had 3 other people in the car, or I am sure I would have stopped, turned around and come home without going.

I wore a little black dress, short, and 5 inch heels.

I almost, at times felt overdressed. The ladies there wore lovely dresses, fantastic boots, and my eye was drawn to a virtual array of wonderful corset tops, which I was instantly jealous of.

I met some wonderful people, all very welcoming and nice..and never did I feel like I was the odd one out, or that my look screamed "newb".

Lots of different play was available to try, I saw rope bondage, gorgeous knots, suspension, a St Andrews cross or two, spankings, men dressed as women, women dressed as men, it was very much an each to their own night and it was wonderful to see it all. I had a blast looking, watching, and taking it all in.

For as much as I had fun, I also walked around a lot thinking of Him. Wondering if He knew I was there, wondering what He would have thought about me going, whether I may have had some rules, temporarily so I didn't do something I shouldn't.

I think I behaved, I did play, ok...shoot me, I was curious... I watched 2 ladies line up and get a caning, only gently, one was a younger girl and it was her first time. The Top was very gentle with her, and at one point I had to bite my lip with her as her face grimaced and eyes widened as the cane landed on her almost bare arse.

I was then gently nudged talked into getting a caning of my own. Yes, I could have said no, but curiosity got the better of me, and that's one of the things He had never done to me.

I bent over, hands braced on the arm of a low line couch, felt my dress be lifted from behind, baring my arse for all to see, I dropped my head, my hair falling forwards hiding the face I was sure was bright red by now.
The "Caner" bent over me, talked to me, told me what he would do, and how, then stepped back and "did his thing" always checking I was ok, smiling when I looked at him over my shoulder calling him a bastard.

Fast foward what was probably about 5-10 minutes and my arse was STINGING.
I put my hand back there and could feel welts, the red hot burning set in, as painful as it is pleasurable.
Standing up, pulling my dress back down, He hugged me, told me I did great, patted my sore butt and stood there with a smile.

Caned Sunday night, and this is the end result on Tuesday.

Since then I have had plenty of time to think about things, whether or not I liked it, whether or not I want to try it again, whether or not I should have done it, and how I feel about the fact that I now have marks, given to me by someone other than Him, had a first experience with someone other than Him.
If I am truthful, and it is in no way meant to be disrespectful to the "caner", I was emotional over it. Having a first experience wasn't as bad as the fact that someone else marked me.
It was odd to have the pain and the marks without any intimacy afterwards, no holding, kissing, touching, definitely not what I have had in the past, and that felt odd, and slightly confusing.

If nothing else happened that night, I gained some wonderful new friends, I got my first caning, and the requisite marks that follow, and I now have to think about what it is comes next.

Pussy Galore...

I have contemplated various things to blog about over the last week.....and the only time I had any real inspiration, I didn't have my laptop with me, and it just didnt flow when I got home.

I asked Master earlier in the week, if He would give me a photo or two that I could post on my blog from our play session earlier in the week.

He did, but I still had no real idea what to actually blog about until I came across a post on Fetlife.

The topic was female anatomy, and a reply by Molly  of the Molly's Daily Kiss inspired this post.

Molly has Pussy Pride and it has inspired me to join in.

I am a woman....just in case you hadn't noticed, and therefore I have a pussy.

Now...it is known by various names, some individual and dependent on who I am chatting to as to what it is called. Cunt, Pussy, Hole, Taco, all of those and occasionally others as well.

Now I realise that you really can't see too much of the pussy there, but I am limited on the pics I am allowed to post of myself without His explicit permission.
I was always ok with my pussy until after the birth of the last child...weighing in at 10lbs, Darling Child assisted in the ruination of the ok thoughts I had about my pussy, after DC was born, I all of a sudden was left with a lopsided labia, which ..to ME, is very noticeable, but hasn't been mentioned by anyone else.

I am a waxer rather than a shaver, I hate the itch left by shaving, but fell in love with the smooth clean feeling being hairless allows you to have. So off I go every 4-6 weeks, full XXX Brazilian, and I feel GREAT after, and the pain during leaves me wanting something after.....but that's slightly off topic.

I have a pussy, clean and smooth, and I have to say that over the last 8 months, if nothing else, I have learnt to appreciate my body, even the bits I didn't like before, so I guess you could say I have Pussy Pride

p.s this is the view that greeted Master last time we saw each other... head down butt pussy up, so BEFORE I was spanked, fucked, flogged, blindfolded and BITTEN!!!!

horny and wanting....

An aching pussy.

A throbbing clit.

The feeling of needing to be filled.

Mouth watering at the thought of His cock filling it.

Arse clenching in readiness of the feeling of His hand spanking me hard.

I have not cum in 4 days.

And I am not allowed to cum before I see Him next.

I am wishing it was tomorrow.

I am dripping in readiness for Him to treat me how He wishes to.

I am horny to the point that if I wriggle just right in my tight jeans, that I think it may tip me over the edge.

I should have worn panties today, instead I have the seam of these jeans resting on the super sensitive clit thats begging for me to rub at it, pinch it, place the hitachi on it.....just something, anything that will make me cum, and yet I resist.

Because I was told not to.

I have no doubt that tomorrow morning I will wake up with my hand between my legs, rubbing at my clit.

Luckily its winter here in Australia and I can wear pj's that may stop me playing to the point I cum as I wake.

punishment and sassiness...

I got punished today...I think its the first time.

I got sassy with Master, and He wasnt impressed.

My punishment was to wear the medium butt plug until He told me I could remove it.

I look back on it now and know I never intended to disrespect Him, but at the same time I wanted to scream at Him.

I have had as good as  NO dominance in nearly 7 weeks.

Nearly 7 weeks since I have seen His face or heard His voice.

The inner slut fucked off weeks ago.

The bitch has taken up residence and shows no sign of leaving for a warmer climate.

I have been able to do as I please, say what I wish and decide what I want to do for myself.

Now I have to turn it all around and back the other way on a dime???
Damn...I only WISH it was that easy.

Maybe if we had played today like planned this post would have been different, maybe I would be posting that the inner slut was back...I dont know.

I DO know...if we HAD seen each other today...it may have been a feisty session.

No...scratch that...WOULD have been a feisty session.

The bitch inside me would have made Him work for the submission today.

 I need a fight.

Then I need fucking good make up sex.

Or I need to be MADE to submit again...the punching bag has had a few work outs this week...I wonder how many more it will collect before the week is out?