Extra Birthday Spankings and Extra Orgasms

Tuesday I was visiting Mystique.  After a nice long walk with three very excited dogs ( Yay!  Walkies!) she told me to call Master to ask if I could get some more birthday spankings.  This is part of my rules, that I have to ask first.  So I called him at work, and he said yes.  

She had a new Corian lollipop paddle, rather like This One but in black.  Since she got it in the same place, I'm thinking it might be just like that one.   

I enjoyed being over her knees and receiving my warm up and then 43+1 to grow on spankings.   That paddle sure left me aching for the rest of the day, on top of the cane bruises from the night before.

That night Master was home, and we watched some Dr. Who.  Master spanked me quite hard during the show, mainly my inner thigh.  And punched me.  And held me down by the throat to make me come.

Then at bedtime he had me do his toenails.  I'm getting used to this service now- I was so nervous about it at first and I have no idea why.  We went to sleep.

In the morning he used me for his fucktoy (happy sighs) and afterwards told me I was allowed to use the vibrator as much as I wanted.   Normally, of course, there are limits (once).  

So I did, and it was actually only twice, because that was all I really wanted, plus I did a bunch of busy stuff.  Laundry (sheets and bedding), lawn mowing, shopping for dog pills, cleaning, sanding and varnishing a cabinet top, etc.   

When I talked to him on the computer last night he told me to use it once more.   There is a happy order!   

It was just a little one, this final orgasm, but it still counts. 

I think he'll be home tonight again, unless he has to work late, and then Friday I'm going with him to work so we can go out to dinner after.  I'll have to occupy myself somehow during the day, perhaps the library and some walking.  Maybe some window shopping.  It will be his last day at the old job.  

Fucking Hell, but that was fun

AKA, Now No One Can Hear You Scream.

All around the land, in many a home or dungeon, or home-dungeon, there were many wonderful sex/S/M sessions but I think none to compare with our night.

At least none that I've had in recent memory.  

He scratched his initials into my breasts.  With a knife!   Eeeee, it was so freaking hot too.  He did a lot of other things with the knife.  Not hard enough for blood or permanent marks (he said maybe after he sharpens it) but enough to leave scratches that lasted.   Swwoooon.   

I got tied by the wrist cuffs to the ceiling beam and hit with the belt.  A lot.  Then when I was good and warmed up (!)  he started in with the birthday caning.   Oh, and there was the whole thing with the jar of wasps!  But, maybe that can be left for another time.... I'm not really fond of wasps, I'll have you know.  I told him that repeatedly, which was the wrong answer.  

He untied me and positioned me kneeling on the floor, head down.  After a few corrections/adjustments of my position:

"How old are you going to be?" he asked.

"Forty three", I reluctantly admitted, after considering in my head if he would believe "26".  Probably not.

"Count them off beforehand" he ordered.

"One" I said confidently.  I can take one cane blow, yes I can.  Why think ahead?  I'm in the moment.

There was one hard whack on my upturned rear.

"Two, Master" I said, almost as confidently.  He hit me twice.

"Three, Master?" I asked.   He hit me three times.  

"Four, Master?  quavering.   And four strikes followed.  I jumped around a bit and had to resume my position.
 
And so on, with the number of strikes matching the number I said.

When I got to number ten I was moaning and wiggling, falling over, having to be propped back up.  These were no gentle taps.  He had to prompt me to say the next number.

After 11 or so he rolled me over and told me to raise my legs and grip them.  Twelve hard strikes on my tender thighs as I held my legs straight up in the air.  He knows that hurts the worst.  Then thirteen on my cunt, but not nearly as hard.  This seemed a relief.
My legs were flopping around too much, so he tied them to an overhead beam.   

Fourteen hurt soooo bad.   And then 15 more on top of those sore places made me think I might not last.  I kept fighting down the thought of not even being halfway to 43. 

At sixteen he switched to regular counting, one blow per number, because he decided I'd almost had enough.  Right on up to 43.  And then one more "to grow on".  Number 44 was a hard one too.  Most of them were hard ones, come to think.  I'm quite bruised up today, from that and the belt.  

There was more beating after he untied me, flogged me and took me to the bed.   The strigil and the crop made a very loud impression on my backside.  

And then there was the buttplug. And the knife. He carved on my back, and my ass (ow, that was already sore), and then did his initials on my breasts.  Fucked me with the knife to my throat.

He fucked me, I sucked his cock.  Ass sex.  Having the buttplug in first did make it a lot more pleasurable.  You can call me a full convert to the buttplug experience.   I came a bunch.   The ass sex lasted a lonnnnnng ass (heh) time.  I was in and out of waves of pain and pleasure throughout.

Altogether we spend over 2 hours playing, and oh fuck, it was so good.  We took a small nap and then got up and ate dinner (bread and jelly) at 10:00.   The child free life!   



 

 

Home again

The trip, once under way, was not that bad.   We zipped down there, though Saturday it was so hot I had to leave the car running while we stopped for breaks (short breaks) so as not to roast the dogs.

But by the time we got there, the hot part of the day was over.  Sunday was not so bad, about 87.   My dad took the kids swimming in the river and my mom and I worked cows.  They have 21 cows which had to be driven home from the neighbors', split into groups of three and worked around the arena so they could remember how to behave for a dog, in preparation for the fall dog trials.  

I got home today before Master, the kids stayed with the grandparents, and even after unpacking, washing up, getting dressed to go out to dinner and vacuuming the house, I still have a few minutes to blog.   


Scratch that going out to dinner plan.

He's just called and said what to be wearing to be ready for him.  The advantage of a few weeks without kids starts---- NOW. 

Heading out

I'm heading out to Missouri today with two kids and two dogs.  Master is staying home to pick up extra work days.   So far the morning has been one disaster after another.  Kid having tantrums, dog pooping in the house, me feeling sick, etc.  And Missouri is supposed to be 100 degrees.  And my parents don't believe in (or have) air conditioning. 

Please don't let this suck as bad as I think it will! 

Exhibitionist Dream

Last night I dreamed that we were in a public park, in the center of a crowd, when Master laid me out on a picnic table and held me down while people I didn't even know came up and rammed objects into my holes.  A glass dildo.  A rubber butt plug.  Fingers.   

I was thoroughly soaked when they let me up, and they wandered off while I was left picking up clothes, blankets and used condoms from the "scene".   What a dream.

I guess that is what happens when I chat with Master on the computer right before bed and he tells me how horny he is and what he's going to do when he gets home!

And guess what!  He only has one more week of this job before starting a new one.  It is not far from home at all, only half the drive, and then he'll be home EVERY NIGHT again.   I can't wait.  
 

 

Owie

Remember This Owie?


Master is really liking that butt plug.  Several times this week he had me put it in before, or during, sex.   This was wonderful right up until he began slamming me from behind, bumping it forcefully right up against that bruise from the other day.  

 He asks me if it hurts and I say yes.  He tells me to suffer. 

I just melt away into the hurt, and let it wrap me up like a blanket.
I don't know if this makes any sense, just to be wrapped up in a pain blanket and then it is suddenly tolerable?   

We had an amazing time though.  Simply amazing.   At one point Master had me on all fours on the floor and asked me with a pseudo serious tone "Do you feel safe at home?"  

That question the doctors always ask.  

"Compared to what?" popped sassily into my brain, but for once not out of my mouth.  

"Yes, Master, I do".  And that is the truth.  He does keep me safe.  



 

Morning Routine

It is not on the level of ritual, but here is an example of my morning routine on the days Master works.   It varies from day to day, but this is a typical really good morning.  :)

His alarm goes off at 5.  I ask if he wants me to get up and make breakfast, and today he says yes, that would make me a most wonderful slave, oh and pack a lunch too.   Desiring to be a wonderful slave and unable to say no, I haul my sleepy butt out of bed and cook breakfast.   

After he eats and showers, I meet him upstairs to wait while he gets dressed.  This morning I've already packed his lunch, so he doesn't have to send me back down to do that.  I kneel at his feet while he puts his socks on, then I kiss his foot.   He tells me to take off my robe.   I'm already starting to get wet just from him looking at me (THAT look, you know, the one that says "If only we had time...").

He tells me to turn around and present myself.  Head down, ass up, looking so very wanton.  Then he has me go get a dildo and fuck myself with it as he watches.  He tells me to cum.   He orders me to turn around and lie down, and some more fucking myself.  He places one foot on my neck. 

"You're mine".

"Yes, Master."
 
  Then he has me kneel in front of him and give him a quick suck before he tucks in his shirt and puts on his tie.   He pushes me back and uses a hank of my hair to dry his cock before he finishes dressing.   

Downstairs again, he gives me tasks and instructions for the day.  Then I go out with him, carry his lunch to the car, go and open the gate for him.  He has me flash him on the way out and tells me to cum again, right there in the driveway.  I close the gate and listen to the sound of his car speeding away.   

Have a good day, Sweetie.

Watch Where You're Kneeling

We were in the shower, with me facing away from the nozzle, when he ordered me to kneel and wash him.

I dropped down like a shot- straight on to the faucet with my butt!  I howled in pain, and then, still in the grip of endorphins from earlier, started laughing about "breaking my butt".

It turned out I gave myself a bigger bruise just between the cheeks, than anything he did to me earlier that day!

Next time I'm looking first!   

Humiliation is humiliating.

And that is all I have to say about THAT.

Ok, not really.  That wouldn't be much of a blog, would it?

Master is really, really good at humiliating me, and I suppose he should be after all this practice at finding just the right level: I think he aims for the point when I feel the greatest humiliation and yet not so great as to have lingering bad effects or to cause a total meltdown on my part.

I don't really want to go into ALL THAT which he did, but I'll just say it involved some piss and some story telling and a whole lot of fucking and orgasms.  

A few other random snippets in no particular order, from yesterday and today:

I'm on my knees and he grabs my hair and pulls me upright, spinning me around so quickly that I stumble and fall half to my knees again. He pulls me on to the bed.  He tells me to put the butt plug in.  

He ties a body harness on me, then ties my hands together using the leather cuffs, and loops that rope through my collar.  Then he uses a rope (a tie) as a leash to pull me here and there, up to his mouth for a kiss, then down to his cock for sucking.

He has me pinned to the bed, fucking me on my back, and runs the leash through my mouth, pinning the leash to the bed on each side of my head with his hands.  

He makes me sing the alphabet song  ("nice and slow now") with the magic wand on my clit, telling me I can orgasm when I reach the letter "z" but each time I reach "y" he has me start the song over.   It is exquisite torture.   I finally do get to cum like a seizure-having-she-beast. 

He orders me to describe some hot scenarios for him, and I do, the favorite one being about him fucking someone else while I am tied up and forced to watch while random men come up to slap my cunt. 

This makes both of us come. 

Pictures From Today. There is pie and then there is pie.

It is really hairy!   Good for pulling on, he says.  :(

I think a few cane stripes go well with the butt plug.   
What do you think?

Cuddling

There is something strangely erotic about Downton Abbey.  There's no nudity or sex, but all that "Yes, M'Lord," and  "No, M'Lord" hits all the hierarchical dominance and submissive, servant and master, sexy buttons for me. 

Curling up on the couch with Master while he fondles me, then orders me, "Get that cunt over here, I want to see it", and switching around in my seat to show him, makes it beyond erotic into the imagining the characters on the screen doing very nasty things to each other realm.   

Meanwhile Master is slapping and lightly punching my cunt, sometimes pausing to pet or pull the hairs (they are long enough to pull- eeeek!).

Earlier I'd given him a blowjob, and later on there would be whipping, flogging, caning and fucking... but sometimes it is nice just to cuddle.  :)

Encounter With Nature

The other day I was mowing the pasture, because sheep don't like tall weeds and thistles, wearing my ear muff style ear protection like I'm required by Master... and I feel a tickle on my ear. 

My hair sure tickles today, I think.  How weird that it is blowing around in there.  But I keep mowing for another 20 minutes or so until the tickle gets too annoying and I start to think,

"What IS that in there?"

"Maybe that is not just my hair?"

What I did NOT expect was to find that a giant daddly long legs had been cuddling up to my ear the whole time!

This was WAY too close for comfort for something with that many legs.  I scooped him out, threw him... somewhere... and put the ear muffs back on.  

Gotta love nature, huh?   Next time I'm looking inside those things before I put them on.  

And as Master said "At least it wasn't a wasp." 

Asking For It

Why is it so difficult?  Why do we go to such great lengths to avoid asking for things, and especially in the case of many slaves and subs I know, asking for kinky play?   

My Master has made it clear from the beginning that I have to ask for things if I want them.  Suffering in silence is NOT ok.  Unless he's beating me and tells me not to make a sound.   He's not a mind reader and he doesn't like me to go around deprived of things I crave for long periods.  Sometimes he says no, because he's in charge, and I can accept that gracefully (now).  He generally has reasons, such as he doesn't really feel like it. 

 But every time I find myself in that position of having to ask, I find it embarrassing, somehow, like it is shameful to admit to having these desires.  Then there is the complicating factor of being in the middle of a beating and thinking "I asked for this?  This hurts!  What, am I nuts?"    It is easier to think "Oh, I'm doing this for him... I'm such a good slave", which happens a lot here, and I have to admit, it is waayyy easier on my brain processing. 

Very few slaves I know are absolutely not allowed to ask for play.  Most of them, even when allowed or encouraged, hesitate to do it, especially if they are fairly new to the dynamic, but sometimes it gets the long timers also.  I think some of us see it as too forward?  Maybe we see a simple request as making demands?  Maybe we are afraid to hear "No"?  Or even more afraid to hear "Yes" and think that maybe he didn't really want to?

 I have had to learn new ways to think about it, because my Master insists that I do.   He likes to know that I want it.  It turns him on to know that I want to do sexy things with him.   So it is not all about me and my wants; by letting him know my desires I'm also fulfilling his wish and desire.  

Last night he made me ask.  I believe he already knew I wanted it, but he still wanted to hear me ask.  

After the twinge of embarrassment, I do ask.  Perhaps he also likes that small humiliation.  I suck his cock first, then he has me fetch him the long wavy paddle and he gives my ass a thorough smacking.  It is so delicious when he goes from pounding on me to gentle stroking, then poking his finger up between my legs to see if I'm wet.  

---------

Then later, he's on top of me, fucking me, and slapping my face, harder and harder, making me fear each next coming slap.  Making me come repeatedly, sending me into bliss, and he says to me:

"You're not supposed to be enjoying this".   

See, he's reading this book for a book club, "A Billion Wicked Thoughts", which I actually brought home from the library, but I gave up on it really quickly because it pretends to be scientific while being filled with wild assumptions and stereotypes.  Evidently women don't like sex.  Nor do they like graphic pictures or descriptions of hot fucking action.  Women like romance novels (gags quietly). Uh huh.  Sure.   Master wants to discuss (er, rip apart) the book in the club, so he's still reading it even though it is terrible.  The book is practically a nefarious example of the sort of social programming women receive that liking hot and dirty sex is unfeminine, trashy, WRONG.  I admit I'm not immune to the social programming, but I'm trying to get over it.  

When he says I'm not supposed to enjoy it, I know he's joking and I giggle, thinking of the spanking scene on Big Bang Theory.  If you haven't watched the show, you must google it and watch that scene at least.  

HI-LARIOUS, especially to those of us who love spanking.  

Then, of course, I must say the response (Amy's response):

 "Well, maybe you should do it harder then."  

Because it is from the show he doesn't see it as cheeky.   He raises his hand and full out hits me in the chest.  And again, and again, on both breasts and in between.  Damn it hurts.  He makes me come and I buck and thrash under him, coming hard at his command.   I'm whimpering softly when he asks if it is better, harder.  I squeak out a pained "Yes, Master". 

Spiraling

Well, today the spiraling down thoughts were with me again, and I was fairly glum.  I worked on some of my meditation exercises, and did some cleaning.  But I still had one unpleasant chore hanging over me (dealing with a bank error I'd made) which turned out to be simpler and less painful than I thought it would be.  Master had forgiven me right away when he found the error, saying "These things happen, don't worry, just sort it out" but I was still guiltifying myself.    That's not really a word, is it?

On the way home from the bank, I stopped for a walk and tiny bit of jogging by a beautiful lake, and by the time I got done I was all cheered up.  

Then I was all productive on the outside tasks until I was weeding the garden and discovered a nest of yellow jackets.   I ran from them immediately, but one still got me on the heel.  I was paranoid about it still being under my jeans or socks or shoes, so I just stripped everything off once I was far enough from them.   

I hate those yellow jackets.  I'm hoping Master will spray them because I don't even want to go back out in the garden now.   

Sunday Is for Pies and Doubts

I had a busy day today.

Mostly I cooked and washed dishes (they never end!) but we also went berry picking and brought home a few buckets of raspberries and strawberries.  I made pies.  I did some gardening.  I cleaned house. I served Master in various ways, including a quickie.    


You'd think all the activity would stop my mind from spinning on about various things, but no, it doesn't. 

I wish my mind could just chill out.  I think I need a refresher on my mantras, or possibly just a beer.

Fuzzy Cunt

Conversations with Master:

Him:  "Do you like your fuzzy cunt?"

I make a non committal noise (I already let my feelings be known last time he asked.  I don't hate it being fuzzy, but I had gotten used to it shaved).

Him: "I asked if you liked your cunt all fuzzy."

Me:  "Whatever you like, Master". (Wondering what he's up to).

Him: "Maybe I'll let you shave again in 6 months when I get tired of it."

Me:  "Whatever you want, Master".  (generally a safe response)

Him:  "Of course it is, slave, do you know why?"

Me:  "Yes, Master, I'm yours".

Him:  "Maybe I'll tell you to shave only half of it."  As he flicks said cunt painfully, enticingly, with his finger.  "Then I'll beat you for shaving the wrong half".

Like he needs a reason for that!   



 

Anniversary

Yesterday was our wedding anniversary (21 years! Which means I have been married almost half my life now), and I didn't do a post because I didn't know what to write.

He came home for the night just because it was an anniversary, and he'll be home again tonight.  I'm very happy about both!   Though he also has to work Saturday... and Monday... ooof, poor Master. 

I made a kinda, sorta special meal of slow cooked BBQ ribs and rice and fresh peas, which were in still the edible pods and raw from the garden.   I could only eat the rice and peas, but he told me the ribs were good.  I was most eager not to have an upset stomach for later that night. 

He didn't want me to buy anything for him, so I didn't.  He got me the fourth season of Downton Abbey, which I LOVE, and we watched part of it last night.   I made a step towards getting him what he asked for, but these things are complicated, and it was only one step.  We'll see.  

He asked me why I left out his favorite part of the evening from the last blog I wrote.  I don't know why; I leave out a lot of stuff just because there isn't room, or I'm done writing, or I think it is too long, or it doesn't fit my mood or narrative.  There is just no way to include every detail and I didn't realize that was his favorite bit.  So I think I'll just go back and add it.  

Last night was some quick but delicious fun.  He used me, and came inside me while fucking me from behind, then he tied my wrists (I asked for this) and paddled me really hard with the wood paddle until I was dreamily in subspace.  In between sets of blows he stroked and soothed "There, there, all done" which I knew was a trick, because another set was coming and, OW, each set hurt more than the last. 
About halfway through the beating he took the leather strap from my wrists and wrapped it around my head, through my mouth as a gag, pulling it tight and holding my head to the side.   Bridled like a horse, I couldn't move my head, but my arms still flailed, hands gripped the sheets, and my legs kicked with each blow until he put his leg over them and pinned me to the bed.

When he was done and I was all spacey, we snuggled and then I put out the light.   

A lovely anniversary fucking, I'd say!  

The word no, what it means here

Last night I was way over eager, pressing up against him in bed, wiggling my ass into him, and Master told me it would be more fun for him if I put up a little resistance.   He gave me permission to say "No", and in fact required that I say no to him so that he could over power me.   At times like this I feel even more like a pliable rag doll, like his toy and plaything, even more than usual.  He indicates how he wants me and that it is what I do. 

  So I resist.  

He asks me if I wanted to fuck. 
I answer "No, not now, not tonight", with dilated wide eyes and a gentle smirk that clearly tell the opposite story.  

Not believable enough.  He makes me try again.

It's a game. I struggle, he hurts and forces me.   

It is playing rape, but there are rules, which he sets and changes as he sees fit.  

When I push at him and struggle, he pins my wrists above my head on the bed.  He shoves my legs apart with his thigh. I kick at him, at his thighs, stomach, whatever I can reach with my feet. I try to bite his arm but I can't reach.  He uses the inner thigh pressure point to cause a lot of pain in retaliation for my attempt at biting.  He bites me hard until I go limp, fearing that what he's got his teeth on- like my nipple- is going to rip if I pull away.   As soon as his teeth let go, I twist one hand free and manage to get it up to his chest.  I use my knuckles on his breastbone.  

THAT earns me an even worse pain in my chest as he does the same thing to me, only 10 times harder, telling me that I don't dare do that to him, then he slaps my face, right and left.  I apologize and lie perfectly still, subdued. 

He gets both my wrists pinned in one hand up against my chest, and uses the other to spread my legs and begin fucking me.  I don't struggle anymore and he asks if I'm submitting.  I am.  I'm done.

He brings me to the edge of orgasm, and when I beg to come he doesn't let me.  He makes me beg for pain first, and I do, I beg him to hurt me.  He does, pressing fingers straight into my breasts at the nipple until they meet ribs.  It hurts like fuck all!  When I let out a plaintive sob he lets me come.    

He has me on top of him, riding and fucking and then tells me I can bite him.  I nibble gently then I bite down and hold on.  He makes noises of pleasure and then he comes too.   I feel a bit embarrassed about biting so hard I left bruises, but he's pleased, and that is what matters.  

In A Hurry

Last night Master told me it was bedtime, and you bet I skedaddled up there, whipped off the clothes, and on with the night time collar and got in position right away. 

 NO puttering about the bedroom, NO reading.  

He was happy to find me prone on the floor, and asked me if I'd been in position the whole time.  Yes, I was happy to say, I had.  

It makes me feel fairly embarrassed that it took getting in trouble to motivate me again (and that he said I had to write a blog about it), but at the same time it is such a secure feeling that he cares and notices, and is willing to correct me on minor failings that I'm grateful to him for everything all over again.  I feel much better with boundaries, I really do. 

Busted!

You know how I was saying about my "puttering around the room" at night while waiting for Master?

Ok, maybe I wrote it on MP's blog rather than here.  Errr, because reasons. 

Anyway, last night I was reading Game of Thrones on the floor instead of waiting in position.  

I have nothing to say except I was totally busted with no excuse and when he saw me that is exactly what he said.  

"Busted!"
 
I curled up on the floor as if to hide, not that it does any good of course, I am not much of a chameleon.    We talked about what he was going to do for this "minor infraction" and he made me give him some punishment suggestions, but he didn't like either of them.   He settled on tummy blows and the paddle.   

I must be more prompt about getting into position without the puttering and certainly WITHOUT a book!   

Butt plug fucking, and the cane

Master walked in on me folding socks as I was seated on the bedroom floor.   He locked the door.  I took THAT as a cue to undress.  

He walked over and picked up a cane and stood about five feet from me, but gave no directions so I crawled to him and began to kiss his foot.  Then I started to get up.  

"No, stay there" he ordered, "Keep kissing", so I kept doing as I was told as he caned me. My rump in the air, lips on his foot.  It was difficult to stay still through that,  difficult to concentrate on kissing his foot.  I felt well subjugated.  It was a hard switching with the willow branch.  He motioned to me to sit up and take his cock in my mouth. As it hit the back of my throat it felt like fucking, it was as good as fucking, and he told me to come, striking me with the cane at the same time.  The two sensations almost clash but then multiply, so sometimes the orgasm stops after the strike but then the next is even more intense.  

When he was finished with the cane he wanted the butt plug in, the pretty jewel ornament.  After some futzing around with it and the lube, I got it in almost in but not all the way, so I was hanging on to it with both hands between my legs, obscuring what he wanted.   

He was ready to take me.  "Move your hands" he told me.

"But the plug will fall out" I protested.

"Move your fucking hands".  I moved them.  

He took me as the plug felt out, then after a bit of fucking he stopped and this time I managed to get it all the way in.

He spread my legs and slid his cock in.  It felt so dang good with the extra pressure of the plug in there.  He said it felt wonderful, extra tight, for him too.  I came that way, I came hard with the vibrator on my clit, his cock in my cunt and the plug in my ass.  My feet were up on his shoulders or spread out to the sides.  I came so hard and cursed so roundly he thought I was in pain.  No Master, just coming really hard! I couldn't actually say that til later.

He held my throat in his hand, or sometimes my hair, to keep me still while he slapped my face.  Every few slaps he'd tell me to orgasm again.

Then he ordered me to be on top.  I came so hard and long it was like a dozen orgasms packed into one!  The grand finale firework of orgasms!   

When he came I had yet one more intense orgasm and collapsed down beside him.  

I think he's starting to see why people are on about butt plugs so much.  I know I am. 

  

On Vacation

Well, I guess this week was a bit of a vacation from blogging, as well as a short vacation for us.  We went to visit friends and relatives in Milwaukee, which was a fun time.   Master originally was going to pack a cane, but then decided on a paddle instead, which never came out of the suitcase.  Not to say there wasn't some infliction of pain, but it had to be a lot quieter than the paddle.  I pleasured him with my mouth.

Last night he caned me before bed, just as a general principal/attitude maintenance measure.  Or something?  He wanted to do it and I am happy to receive.  
This morning we had an extended fucking and beating session.  I could write a whole post on it, but later news sapped my interest in kink writing: 

Something is wrong with Hank.

After I'd make breakfast, Master took Hank, our 10 year old dog, into a vet. His clinic is closed today so he had to go to another one.  He seemed to have the signs of a really, really bad disease (hemangiosarcoma), but after the tests (ultrasound, I think it was) it is not his spleen.  It looks like he may have something not quite that bad.  We'll have to wait until Monday to have all the tests.  I can hardly stand to think of losing Hank now. 

Three Things Wrong

He told me to get on the bed.  Master was holding a cane, one of the thicker willow branches that I had cut, stripped and whittled to shape.  As soon as I laid down he told me there were three things wrong with this picture and I had to figure out what they were.

The first one I got right away.  I had forgotten a towel to protect the bedding.  He gave me a tremendous hard smacking with the cane for that one, and then I leaped up to fetch the towel.  

The next ones I wasn't sure about.  I returned to lie face down on the towel.

"You don't like me wearing socks, Master?" I ventured.

"No, that isn't it."  SMACK, smack, smackity, smack he went on my ass.

"I haven't sucked your cock?"

"No, I didn't tell you to do that yet".  More smacking. 

I thought some more but couldn't come up with anything that he usually required.

"Where are we?" he asked sternly.

"In bed, Master".  

"And what collar are you supposed to wear there?"  

Derp.  "The leather collar", I answered.  

After another really hard blow from the cane, he let me up to change from the silver to the leather.   I hadn't figured this for a rule, except at night, and this was the middle of the day yesterday, but now I know, hey?

I was feeling sheepish, utterly submissive and could not even look at him now as I went to the dresser drawer, switched collars and came back to lie in front of him.  He has this effect sometimes.

One more thing still to guess.  I thought and thought and could not come up with it.   He continued to cane me.  Finally he told me he wanted some ropes to tie me down.   Now that one I couldn't be expected to guess, could I?   I didn't think so.  Hmmmph. 

I fetched the ropes.  First he had me suck his cock and fuck him a little bit, then he tied me face down, my legs together with ropes up to my knees.  He went around the the headboard and said "Wrists through."

I swiftly stuck my wrists through the rails of the headboard, and he tied them.  Now I was stretched out in a pretty immobile line and I had a flash of fear about not being able to get away, before I relaxed against the ropes.   Why was I even thinking of getting away?  I have no idea, it is just the certainty of being tied completely down that brings on a flash.   But then the security of the ropes comforted me.  I wiggled against them and relaxed, secure and happy in my bondage.  

Then he began to strike me in earnest with the cane.  

"One and one is two".  That equals 5 strikes with the cane, following a rhythm of the inchworm song.

"Two and two are four".   That is seven strikes right there. 

"Four and four are eight."  That was 17 blows, the way he does it.  One heavy one for each beat of the song rhythm, and then eight really fast ones after, for the "eight" part.

I lost track of what he was singing, and when he stopped matching number of hits to the song and went simply with the rhythm, until he got to the "approximately 32,000" part of the inchworm song.   I know that were probably a lot of strokes though.   

My butt is sore, but what really hurts today is my thighs where he gave my bruises another thorough punching on top of the first bruises.