Friday, July 3, 2015

SCC Prompts: Public correction and disagreements

 These are writing prompt questions from The Submissive Coffee Club:

 Do you have different expectations from someone who says they are dominant, and someone who says they are *a* Dominant?

I don't carry around expectations for other people in this regard.  If they are a good and decent person, fun to be with and kind, then I will want to spend more time with them.  If not, then I won't.  But I don't have a picture in my mind of what a dominant or someone who is dominant must act like.  They aren't MY dominant so it just makes no difference.   

How does your Dominant partner correct your behavior if necessary in public, while being discreet?

He just tells me quietly what he wants to say to me.  Sometimes where other people can hear, but mostly not.  He doesn't hit me or grab me or anything like that at the stores or other places like that.  If no one is around, he might.  There was the time at the library (back room) when I wasn't being quick enough to go and he pulled my hair slightly.  He hardly ever corrects me in public anyway, even verbally.  

What do you do when you feel like you’re being too needy?

I tell myself to chill out, calm down, and remind myself that I'm here for his desires and not vice versa.  

Prompt Set #126
- Is there any one thing you and your Dominant disagree about more often than anything else?

I can't really think of anything we disagree on often.
- How do you get past an argument?

I apologize for being a butt head.

- Do you think that it’s different from the way that vanilla couples resolve arguments?

Yes.  I don't hang on to my own viewpoint very long because I know it is my job to give in and to come to terms with what he wants.  There is literally no point in arguing when I know I won't win, so why not just give in right away?  

Thursday, July 2, 2015

Scared Shitless

Tuesday night was a night off. We both pretty much needed a day to go to sleep early after the events of Monday night.  My head had been swirling with thoughts of his lighter, and everything else he had done, all day long.   I even had a nap and then went to bed early.  Master was already asleep when I finished feeding the dogs.

Last night, I had no idea what to expect.  I did know to expect sex, since he told me he needed it, but otherwise, like usual, I was in the dark.

First he orders me onto the bed using the most objectifying language: "It gets a blanket and gets on the bed".  His tone and wording tell me I'm in for it, and I hop to obey with excited foreboding.   (Is excited foreboding even a possible thing?  I guess it is here.)

I kneel on the bed until he tells me what position he wants.  
A black strap across my eyes.  
The lighter.  
My legs are spread, trembling, wanting to close.
My hands are gripping the headboard rails tightly.
My stomach flips in fear.
He brings the lighter in closer so I can feel the heat.  He is saying stuff to me that I don't remember.  I only remember the feel of the lighter and fear that everything is going to go up -POOF- in flames. 

I was so careful shaving.  I took a tweezers to the little hairs that the razor (a new one) missed.  He doesn't care about that, he's just in it for the fun. 

When I feel the heat on my thighs I'm wishing myself far away.  Can I get out of my own head?  Can I even move a millimeter?  No, I'm very much present, and escape, even to a far away headspace, is impossible.  I begin to shake and cry.  I'm hoping he will be done soon.  I want it to be over.  After a few times of touching the hot lighter to my inner thighs and lips my crying stops and I have given up.  He asks if I want to be done with this.

I say, as I am required, "Whatever you want, Master."

He asks again, "I want to know if you want me to stop".

"Yes, Master, I want to stop this now."

He doesn't stop.  He brings the lighter in close again.  Touches my thigh.  I yelp and jump and he orders me to hold still. I still can't see because of the blindfold, but I felt the heat, here and there and all over.   He rolled me to my side and had me suck him, and still the lighter is clicking close to my hip.  I smell some burned hair, very distinctive, that smell.   
Periodically, he sets it down on the bedside table, and I have a moment of relief that he's done, but no.  

He finally fucks me, making me say things that I don't want to say, humiliating me.  I am still blindfolded with the strap.  I feel my way by touch into the different positions he wants.

Afterward he held me and I cuddled up against him, feeling so grateful and utterly dependent on him.

 He asked me if I was injured at all.  I began crying again, "I don't know, Master" I blubbered.  I didn't know.  He asked me several more times, in an unemotional, unconcerned way as if he just wanted me to realize it myself: "Are you burned? Do I need to get some creme?"   Finally my brain did a system check and I found no place that was hurting except my butt where he'd smacked it with the spoon (how did I leave that out? Oh yeah, fire!).  When he asked again if I was burned I said "No, Master".

  Dreamless sleep came surprisingly easy. I wasn't actually burned; there is not anything you can see on the outside, but he had well and truly fucked over my mind. 

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Dessert To Die For

I have found one worth going on to my eternal rest, if it should come to that.

Pecan Cheesecake

I made this today, along with homemade pizzas, and was thinking the whole time "Jeez this has a lot of steps, it better be worth it."

And friends, it is worth it.  

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Eating Dinner

It is not a rule that I wait for Master to come home before eating.  

This means I and the kids usually get our dinner out of the way before he gets home.  While Master eats I often stand by to serve him.  I love this. He sometimes even eats one handed while fondling me with the other.  On nights like tonight, I'm wearing only my robe, having stepped out of the shower not long ago (was gardening, sheep herding etc. today). 

He has easy access and he pinches, prods and probes me until I'm a puddley mess.  He'll grab my robe and pull me closer if I'm too far away.   If his hand starts to head between my legs, I must spread them instantly, and I am corrected with "Wider" if I haven't moved them apart enough.

I'm allowed to kneel beside him while he eats, and then he looks at his computer stuff; I often switch to that position when dinner is cleared away and I won't have to be running back and forth any more.  Sometimes he pets me, but sometimes he pets the dog, who is also under the table looking for attention. 

Monday, June 29, 2015

Dirty Little Hole

I'm afraid this one is going to be a bit more, well, more. 


He had me meet him upstairs.  He stripped me of my robe, took the sash and tied it around my neck.  

"Crawl for me, little doggie".  I crawled naked after him down the hall into our room, trying to hang on to my house slippers with my feet so I didn't leave them behind.  

When we arrived he told me "Sit. Stay".  I did this, and looked up at him.  I really wanted to wag my tail.  I actually felt quite like a puppy.  I tried not to smile because he looked so serious.  But puppies are happy when they get attention.  

He walked across the room and told me to come.  Dilemmas!  "Come" means orgasm, but now I'm a puppy, should I go to him?  I didn't think about it for more than a split second, I just orgasmed.  He walked over to me, and I started to get up-- "NO, sit, stay" he said,  just as if I were a disobedient puppy!

"Heel", he commanded me, and I crawled along next to him where he held the leash, on his right side.  When he stopped I couldn't stand it anymore and I went around to the proper heel position, on the left side, and sat.  I told him I had to heel on the correct side.  He didn't say anything, but pulled up on the leash hard, strangling me. "This is no way to treat a puppy!", flashed silently in my brain, but then I reminded myself I was a slave, and that was certainly the way he could treat me.   "Come!" he commanded, then let loose the leash/sash.  I came.

"Lie down on your back". 

I saw something in his hand, but couldn't quite tell what it was.  When he got it between my legs I recognized the "Click. Click." of the lighter.

"You didn't shave very well.  I'm just going to burn these hairs off you".  

I didn't really think he was going to burn me.  I concentrated hard on holding very still.  "He won't, he won't, he won't...."   OUCH!  I jerked and tried to cover myself.  That really burned!  
He got the pesky cunt hairs though.

He kissed it.  My owie cunt. 

Then he wanted to read his book and have a foot rub.  I was lost in  thoughts of slavey burned cunt bliss as I rubbed his feet, and then at his order, sucked his cock, then to rubbing his other foot.  This went on for quite some time, foot, cock, other foot, and back around again.  A couple of times he let me flavor his penis with my cunt before I returned to sucking.   

He was already deep into my head, and he began telling me things about what he plans to do with me (and others) in the future.  Including the orgy tent. Then I got my butt plug- it slides right in, and then Master slides into my pussy.  It feels amazing.
He was fucking me and making me say things, which he often does. But these things were beyond the usual level of dirty.

How many men?  he wanted to know.  He wasn't satisfied with my real answer of how many I had sucked and fucked.  He forced me to make up inflated numbers, and he was not satisfied until I got to 50.  He made me say some of them paid me.  And say that I liked it, so I didn't charge much if they wanted to use me, just a token amount.  Because I'm a slutty whore.  But I'm his slutty whore, so I don't get to go out on my own.  Just if he tells me to.

"Who are you going to fuck?" he asks me.  

He's talking about the orgy tent.

"Whoever you tell me to, Master," I answer.

"All of them," he says.  

"Yes, Master."

He made me say this:  "All the men can fuck my dirty little cunthole and my mouth, but only you can have my ass, Master".  And he made me repeat it over, and over, and over.  I don't know how many times, the same phrase, maybe a dozen times.  

It got easier after the first few.

Then he changed it to something about my mouth and cunt being cum dumpsters for whoever wanted to get off, and made me repeat that a dozen or so times more.  The more times I said it, the deeper I felt it, and his cock was driving into me so hard that I had to get the phrases out in short bursts in between stabs.

Wearing the butt plug, it is all so tight, and the combined sensations  doubled that way,  painful for my ass depending on the depth and angle of thrusting.  My cunt has been sore for days now, in a pleasant and constantly used way.  Now and then I get a stab of that ache, but mostly it is pure pleasure as I repeat his phrases over and over.  I orgasm over and over as well, each time he commands.  He slaps me, punches me; I come again.  

He tells me to get on the floor, and he fucks me on my hands and knees, then he has me lie flat. I am transported by this intense pain/pleasure.  Transported is the right word; I go off somewhere else as he is driving the plug hard into my ass and fucking my sore cunt, and just everything... it is all good being his dirty little hole. 

 Later on.

He clicks the lighter on, makes me come closer, stand still and look him in the eye.  At the last second I always flinch.



When We Are On The Same Page

Life is Beautiful.

"I love you, Master" I whispered to him this morning.

"I love hearing you say that as my come is dripping down your thighs" he answered.

I'm on that page too.

Sunday, June 28, 2015

I Like My Vanilla with Kink

We went to eat dinner and hang out with some of our kinky friends, but though the topics were sometimes racy, the occasion was more vanilla.  It was a good time, and we made some new friends.  We talked politics (ok, Master and them talked politics and I sat at his feet and listened) and no arguments broke out.

At bedtime Master left me on the floor in my accustomed position until he found the right implement, the willow switch.  He had to correct me at least three or four times for moving from position, as it really hurt and I would throw my head up or move my legs with each really hard strike.  Head down, ass up, knees together!  

He moved me to the bed and used the misery stick, again really hard, so that even when I woke up in the middle of the night and this morning my ass felt full of stingy welts.  I haven't looked to see if it is, but I'm guessing it feels worse than it looks.  He also hit the bottoms of my feet and calves.  Ow.  After an additional use of the paddle he ordered me to suck and then fuck him.  I was on top at first, in easy reach to slap me and punch me, then he flipped me over to fuck me from behind.  

My cunt is very well used, (used hard!) lately, and feeling it! 

I'm not complaining.