Sunday, January 22, 2017

A Spit Roast, And I Was Well Done

If I had to pick one act that I love most about group sex, it would have to be being caught between two cocks, penetrated in mouth and cunt at the same time, aka, a spit roast.   There is something overwhelming, objectifying, gratifying, and intensely pleasurable about receiving this treatment for me.   

Back to the beginning, though.

My day yesterday improved considerably when Master got home and we headed out to dinner and then a Kinky and Geeky event/party.  There is gaming, bdsm, and pizza all in one venue, so it is pretty fabulous.   Our plans had fallen through on kink events for months, so I hadn't even dared to get my hopes up for this one, but we made it and it was great!

 Dinner was Thai food before the event.  At one point I felt satisfied even though my plate of food was still half there.  I announced my intention to stop eating before I got too full.  But as we sat talking I kept picking up bits and eating them since it was just too tasty to resist.  Master took my plate and set it over next to him on the far side. He told me that if I wanted any more I'd have to earn it.  I looked questioningly at him.  

"Earn it as in right now. Under the table," he said.  

I looked around at the other people, blushed and looked down, then commented that I really was not hungry anymore.   
He's helpful, huh? 


One we arrived at the event we started with games, because it is always a fun way to meet people, but after a bit I started making "longing eyes" at my Master across the table.  In a few more rounds he took me to the dungeon room and ordered me to get naked and get some rope ready while he would be right back.  I had stripped down to panties and socks by the time he came back and ordered that the panties had to go too. 

He tied a rope karada on me and fastened me to the cross.  He began with the new floggers, which allowed me to relax into the bondage and the rhythm of his strikes.   Unfortunately we were interrupted several times by a new person who had forgotten (??) that you can't talk to people in a scene.  Finally my Master had to stop and tell him that he was being very rude, and the guy apologized and backed off.  I hope the message sticks or he will find himself uninvited to these events very quickly!

 Master's flogging switched to the stingy set and went on for a good long time so I was able to achieve my state of peaceful, yet aroused, focus on him again.  He brought out the wavy Kris paddle.  That wonderful toy has been hidden in our bag for quite some time.  It was excited to get some use again, I know it.  I nearly orgasmed without a command after one particularly hard smack.  I think I managed to contain it (half-orgasm?), but my Master did notice.

A few other things hit my ass, I'm not sure, but when the tire tread paddle came out I took notice!   I'm pretty sure several of the bruises on my ass were due to that implement.  

Master untied me soon after that, and pushed me to my knees right there.  I looked up at him and he nodded, so I knew what he wanted.  I unbuckled and unzipped him, then took his cock in my mouth.  He continued to flog my back and ass as I worked on him, sometimes pulling my hair as a handle with his free hand.  

He maneuvered me to turn me around, placing my head between the legs of the cross, my shoulders braced against it.  He thrust and ground against me with his pelvis but did not take me. I wiggled and pushed back into him, feeling like nothing but an animal consumed by heat.   I could see straight ahead of us, not 15 feet away, some friends of ours playing.  He was fucking her, and she was tied by the arms to another man who was being flogged by a fourth person.  That was pretty hot too! 

After a clean up of our area, Master took me to the recovery room.  That's where they have the snacks.  We got a little pizza, and then as I sat on the floor in front of him he put my hood on.  I was still naked except for the rope harness.   

We rested that way for a while, then I was released and went to look for our friends.  I had talked to them beforehand about playing together.   We met up at a bed and very soon were getting all sexed up in all kinds of ways.  In a short time I found myself on hands and knees with the other man's cock in my mouth and Master fucking me from behind.  That was amazing.   He (L.) took Master's place behind me and fucking went on until my arms were spaghetti.  At one point he handed me a vibrator and gave me an orgasm so powerful I fell over, screamed and for a second they thought I was injured!

Master and I made the long drive home in a thick fog (literal) and I in a slight fog of happysexness.  












Saturday, January 21, 2017

Old Dead White Guys

If you are owned by an intellectual it can occasionally be hilarious, if a little surreal.  

If he goes on a (once a decade) drinking spree one Friday night due to inability to cope with the thought of a Trump presidency, it is more likely that you could be turning the bookshelves upside down looking for his copy of Thucydides: The Peloponnesian War than watching him throw cans at sportsball persons on the TV. 

Rum supplies are looking a little depleted this morning.
   


 

Rough

Last night was rough, and this morning again.  Not in the kinky way, but just a lot of emotions.  

And so, I bring you PENGUINS!!

They always cheer me up, anyway.

Friday, January 20, 2017

Kink Of The Week: Safewords

What we have here is a semi safeword. 

I think safewords can be a valuable tool for play for many people, especially if they like to do any CNC or rape play where the submissive is allowed to say "No, don't, stop!" and not mean it.  The safeword gives them a way to clearly say they need to stop.

However, for all the people who don't use safewords, it can be equally good to simply use "Stop" or explain the problem and expect their partner to stop.  

Because it can't be said enough:

A safeword will not make you safe.  Having a trustworthy partner will go a lot farther to that end than any "magic" word. 

Also, having a safeword is not enough.

There are times when I have gone non verbal during play, and this actually happens to a lot of people.  We become unable to use a safeword, or explain any problem we are having, so it is important that Tops and Doms (and subs for that matter) realize this can happen and do check ins with a new partner if in doubt about their situation, and keep a close eye out on any partner they play with, new or not. 

The reason we have a semi safeword is that to most people, a safeword gives them the absolute right to end the play right there.  I don't have that right with my Master, so mine would be more like a quick warning to him that something is going very wrong with me.  

He would definitely check in with me at that point and then decide where we go from there.   There have been times he has completely taken it away for a session (as a bit of mindfuckery, since I don't actually use it anyway) or he's changed it to something impossible like antidisestablishmentarianism

We use the traffic light system, and there have been times especially while playing in public that he's asked me "What's your color?"  If I can't say green, or I say I'm not sure, he knows where my head is at (muddled).  

If I play with someone else, then my safeword means stop absolutely right now to do a check in.  My Master gives me that right because he wants me to be safe and have a non-traumatic time with others.  It might be OK to continue after the check in, depending what the problem is.  I have used "red" exactly one time now with someone other than my Master.  I have used "yellow" a few times in play with other people. 

Using a safeword is a big deal to me.  No matter how many times I hear people say that using a safeword is not a failure of any sort, deep down inside I partially feel that I have failed if I have to use it.  I feel I have failed to "just take it."   I have tried to talk myself out of this feeling, because intellectually I know it is not the best way to feel, it is not productive or helpful, but sometimes feelings will not be reasonable.   The time I used it, it was my best alternative in the moment, so that is a success, right? 




Read more about the Kink of the Week here:


Thursday, January 19, 2017

Still Sick, But Getting Better

This achy cold turned into an uncomfortable chest cold on Tuesday.  It was Master's day off, but the schools were also closed due to ice on the roads.  I did almost nothing all day except sit in a chair.  

The high points of the day were that Master made chicken soup for dinner and he used me in a way that made me forget I didn't feel good for a short time before bed. 

 I barely slept Tuesday night because lying down made me cough.  Eventually I felt bad about interrupting Master's sleep and went downstairs to lie in a recliner chair.  Not terribly comfortable, but being more upright made the coughing stop so I could sleep for a couple hours.

   Then the schools were closed Wednesday too, and I had to go out for some kids' appointments in the afternoon.  The roads were fine.  I felt like death warmed over.

  Last night I piled up a ton of pillows on the bed and was able to sleep with less coughing, although I was awake a lot even then, so I'm feeling a bit better this morning.   

We had sex last night too.  I tried really hard not to cough on him. :)

Monday, January 16, 2017

Nearly Busted

I thought I was perfectly safe.  Hours until the kids get home from school, right?

So, in keeping with my Master's latest order to use the buttplug, I put it in.  I could tell that my ass was rusty- it took me a few minutes to work it in there.   Then for good measure I shoved a dildo in the other hole and went downstairs to look at porn.  I'm sitting there, not naked, thank God, when the door bangs open and it is the older kid.  

What?  They cancelled school?  It's not even snowing.   An ice storm was predicted, so the schools were sent home early.

I closed my window, and waited until he was upstairs to stand up, because you never know when a dildo is just going to come popping out on the floor, and oh so casually went to the bedroom to remove it. I went ahead and gave myself a a quick orgasm, but it was not the long drawn out one I had hoped for.  I took the plug out and washed up.   Whew, close one! 

 

 

1963

On August 28, 1963 one of the most powerful speeches ever delivered was given at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington DC.   It's one thing to read it, but quite another to listen.  If you haven't, or not recently, then please take advantage of the link at the bottom.   

We are celebrating Martin Luther King Jr. Day today, as our first black president gets ready to step down after 8 years.  I remember the day Obama's election was announced, I cried tears of happiness thinking of all the ordinary people, my teachers and classmates especially, across the country who were going to look up and see for the first time ever, a US president who looked like them, who had the skin tone that  in the not so distant past would have made him automatically a second class citizen.  I know we have a long way to go in fighting racism.  I see it everywhere in the news these days, so these words will always inspire me that we CAN do better and be better. 


I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.
But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. And so we've come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we've come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the "unalienable Rights" of "Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note, insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds."
But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so, we've come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.
We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. And those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. And there will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people, who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice: In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.
The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom.
We cannot walk alone.
And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead.
We cannot turn back.
There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. *We cannot be satisfied as long as the negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their self-hood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating: "For Whites Only."* We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until "justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream."¹
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. And some of you have come from areas where your quest -- quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.
Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends.
And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification" -- one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together."2
This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with.
With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
And this will be the day -- this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning:
My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.
Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride,
From every mountainside, let freedom ring!

And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.
And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.
Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.
Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.
Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.

But not only that:
Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia.
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.
From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, and when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:
                Free at last! Free at last!
                Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!


Listen to it here: