Union Appears to Exclude Slaves

For all the submissives out there, I have found it:  The Union.

Daily Flogger article

In addition, it reports that your "gift of submission" (GOS) has a minimum value, for tax purposes, of $120,314.56.

Slaves, of course, are excluded from the Submissives Union.

Submission is a gift. Everyone knows that.Gifts are taxable, and therefore have a real value. The aim of Submissives Unionized for Better Service (SUBS) is to finally place a dollar value on the “gift” of submission. We are working with our team of lawyers and accountants to finalize a hard number. Early calculations suggest that the Gift of Submission (GoS) has a minimum value of $120,314.56. - See more at: http://www.thedailyflogger.com/submissives-unionize-submission-declared-gift/#sthash.hjXWP9Ho.dpuf

Submission is a gift. Everyone knows that.Gifts are taxable, and therefore have a real value. The aim of Submissives Unionized for Better Service (SUBS) is to finally place a dollar value on the “gift” of submission. We are working with our team of lawyers and accountants to finalize a hard number. Early calculations suggest that the Gift of Submission (GoS) has a minimum value of $120,314.56. - See more at: http://www.thedailyflogger.com/submissives-unionize-submission-declared-gift/#sthash.hjXWP9Ho.dpuf

Submission is a gift. Everyone knows that.Gifts are taxable, and therefore have a real value. The aim of Submissives Unionized for Better Service (SUBS) is to finally place a dollar value on the “gift” of submission. We are working with our team of lawyers and accountants to finalize a hard number. Early calculations suggest that the Gift of Submission (GoS) has a minimum value of $120,314.56. - See more at: http://www.thedailyflogger.com/submissives-unionize-submission-declared-gift/#sthash.hjXWP9Ho.dpuf

Into every life a little rain must fall

The cane beat the rhythm of rain on my rear.  The paddle crashed down as thunder.    Rain showers first were lighter, then a downpour, then a mere trickle, complete with flashes of lightning pain. 

"Open your mouth", he commanded.

I did so, as I lay on my stomach on the bed.  A leather strap was shoved into my mouth and he tightened it up, pulling my head back as if I wore reins.

Smack! Smack! Smack! came the paddle again.

He took me from behind, still holding the strap.

He pulled out of my cunt, told me to roll over to my back and shifted the leather down to my neck, pulling it tight and pinning my wrist to the bed in the same hand as he fucked me.   I bucked up against him, drowning in passion and desire.   He fucked deeper and harder and when I didn't think I could wait a second longer to explode he commanded me to COME.   There was a great flood, the rain showers now having their cumulative effect, leaving in their wake puddles on the towel and a sunshiney smile on the face of this slave.

And More Discussions

Master and I had the opportunity to talk again since we drove together to a new part time gig he has, where I am also volunteering (they get two for the salary of one employee, what a deal!).   It is only going to be maybe one day a month on his days off, which meant we had no day of kink n sexy stuff, but we did get a lot of togetherness, which is also fun.  It also involves a lot of playing with puppies and kittens, so a good thing for me. 

On the drive down there, we talked about my blog yesterday.  He wanted me to add that it is not just that he minds me being upset about doing this thing, or that he feels bad for me, but that when my head is wrong my level of service is not as good, not as enthusiastic, and not what he wants (cringe, blush, ack! but that is what he said). 
  Yes, he could punish me for this, he said, and he would have if I had only given poor service without explaining my issues to him.  He'd rather have my headspace right and my full and enthusiastic participation rather than a fearful acceptance.  In this case, anyway.  

For ass sex, he's fine with just fearful acceptance.  :)  



 

Mindset

Sometimes there is just that one thing that one's Master wants, and you try it a few times, and badly want to please him by doing it, but it just seriously fucks with your mind. The more you do it, the worse it feels. Until I actually felt nauseated the last time he demanded it. I did it anyway, but I was angry at him for making me. 
I brought it up again (this is not the first conversation), and said how I felt. He told me, after thinking a bit how he'd handle it, that if he asked for it again he'd spend more time making sure my mind was right, and I was in the right place to accept his order before giving it. I'm hoping that works. I feel kind of bad that I am not able to do what he wants easily, but it is a requirement for me to tell him when I'm having a hard time with something so that he can handle it.

Orgasm Control: Kink of the Week

This is a big kink for my Master.   Ever since he taught me to orgasm on command he's taken great delight in making me do it wherever. In the kitchen.  In the car.  While chatting via computer.  In the store.  In front of people.   The more embarrassing, the better.  And also during beatings or sex of course. 

My orgasm has always been important to him, sometimes even more important to him that I have one than it was to me.  Back in former times, it was really hard for me to get one. They didn't just come (haha) naturally, there had to be a specific position and certain things done just right.  I'd only have one, if I were lucky.

Ever since we started a D/s relationship, though, I have become multi-orgasmic, and discovered squirting (excitement for him, kind of a pain in the ass for me, who gets to clean up).  I suppose there is little better proof of how everything surrounding power exchange turns me on.  

Orgasm denial is so far from one of my kinks I'd say it is an anti-kink, or something. Do. Not. Want.  Anyway, I'm happy that the most he does is make me wait a while sometimes.  It is not about the denial for him, but about being in control.  So, if he makes me wait, or tells me not to masturbate, or tells me how many times to masturbate, it is still all about the control. 

When we are together I have to wait for his command to orgasm, but if one accidentally slips through (it happens) it is not a big deal. I don't receive punishment for that.   At the same time, I try not let it happen because I want to obey.   If I'm getting close I can beg for an orgasm, and then he often has me wait just a fraction of a time (telling me WAIT) before giving the command.  Sometimes it is longer than a few moments and I try to do things to delay it.  

Because the word "wait" became so strongly associated with me already being on the edge, it started to be conditioned as a word that puts me on the edge of orgasm without actually coming.   This was an interesting but unanticipated side effect of using it that way. 

 Other times, he has given the command and nothing happens, because of the position, or competing stimuli, or some other reasons, perhaps my mind is not right.   I let him know immediately and he goes back to a more primal motivator and makes it happen.   

Here is another post on this topic, more about the training:

Orgasm on Command

At times he does force more and more orgasms out of me until my body is sore and wrung out.   I love it, and it is very intense.  It  turns me into a puddle of sex.   The most in one day (I used to have to keep count- now I don't) was 55, done over several sessions. 

Servitude

Master asks (tells) me to get up with him at 5 am and make his breakfast.  I feel grateful to be useful to him.  I start some sausages cooking to make a sausage and cheese burrito with fried green onions.   I had set up the coffee maker the night before to be ready after pushing the button.   I make Master's tea while the coffee and sausages are cooking.

 I realize some this is going to sound very sappy, but there you have it.  I am a great big sap today.

He comes down and checks his messages on the computer.  He tells me about several women (whom he has already played with) who are flirting with him, which gives me butterflies in my stomach thinking they might come here to play, or that we might go there again.

I stand beside his chair until he gets up and tells me to suck.  I go down on my knees.  After a few seconds he pushes me forward onto my hands and throws my robe up over my head.   He enters me and I groan from the dryness, the soreness, my knees on the hardwood floor.  It all hurts, but in a most delicious way.  He doesn't come, but he stops after a few minutes because it is breakfast time. 

I rise with some difficulty and he takes my arm to steady me.  I feel delightfully used and yet loved at the same time.

We eat together, and then when he goes to take a shower I play on the computer.    I also pack some leftovers for him to take for lunch.

He comes back down ready to leave.  I kneel at his feet as he puts his shoes on.  He pulls open my robe to pinch my nipples and slap my breasts.  Again I feel grateful to be his enjoyment and his plaything.  It turns me on.  I attempt to close my robe out of habit, and he corrects that gesture.  As he stands up and walks away he tells me to come.   I feel a vague helplessness before him as my body reacts to the command, and a great longing for him as he moves away.  After a few seconds I close my robe and stand. 

He gets all his clothes and lunch together and since his hands are full he tells me to open the door for him.   I go out on the porch with him, holding the storm door, and he tells me to open my robe once more to let the freezing air in. It is about 20 degrees out there, frosty all over the porch.   He gives one more painful tweak to my nipple, kisses me and we say goodbye.  It will be a few days, most likely, before I see him again.

I love being his.
  

 

Double or Nothing

Master had an interview yesterday, but got home hours before the kids.  
I put on the silk with the broken strap.   It was still broken from when he'd torn it and I never remembered to sew it up.   Nevermind, I thought, having one side falling down, thus exposing a breast, is no real detriment in this case.  

I also put my leather collar on when he called to let me know he was on the way home.

Immediately on getting home he put on some porn and had me suck him while kneeling between his legs.  After a while he sent me to fetch the long cutting board with the handle, which is actually a really handy kitchen paddle.  I wiped my smeary, damp face as I crossed the kitchen and found the board. 

He spanked me with it, then briefly took me just to give his cock some flavor.  I went back to sucking as he commanded.  He pulled my head down hard on his cock and made me come.  We went on this way paddling/sucking/fucking/a lot more sucking until he was ready to take me upstairs. 

Once in the bedroom, he shoved me onto the floor on my stomach, and entered me.   He wanted me to fight back.  He told me in a dark voice to say things, to protest against him taking me...

He likes me fighting, he likes forcing me and subduing me, making me helpless.   He doesn't like me to give up too easily, which I tend to do.  Sometimes I need incentive. 

Once he was inside me he told me I had to escape or all I was going to get was a load of cum in my mouth, no beating, no more sex for now.
 Also, I had to do it by the time he counted to one hundred.

"One. Ten. A hundred," He said.   I hadn't even begun to struggle.  I still had one arm pinned under my body and he held the other one behind my back.   Talk about your starting disadvantages.

"You cheated!" I accused.

"No, I counted exponentially" he replied, smirking.

"That IS cheating", I declared.

So he started counting the right way.  You know, where two comes after one.  He now had my nipple pinned between his fingers, making my struggles painful.    I pushed and shoved at him and he grabbed my wrists.   Now my nipple was safe so I was able to buck and squirm enough to partially escape.   I wasn't completely away but it was enough to count.  I'm sure he wanted me to win, because when he really tries, I just can't.  He has too many tricks at his disposal.

He spanked me hard with his hand, then asked what one thing I would want for my prize for escaping.   I briefly considered things like "Trip to Disneyland" or "I have always wanted to see Bora Bora", before deciding that he probably meant something for play right here and now.  

"I can't think of just one thing I want.  I want to do what you want", I said.  I hadn't expected to win a prize.
 
"Double or nothing then", he ordered.   

"But first, roll on your back."  I did.  He began fucking me and pinned my arms before beginning his counting, non exponentially.   

I escaped again!  Yay me!  I win!  

After spanking me even harder this time, he said I could pick two things that we would do now. 

I asked to be tied up and whipped. 

"And what else?" he inquired.

"Isn't that two things?"

"No, you get one more," he said.  So generous.

I said the first thing that came into my head.

"I want to play rape again, but no triple or nothing". 

He took me again, violent against my struggles, hitting me wherever he could reach.   Once I was finally fucked into submission he lifted me up, stood my on my feet, and tied me into a rope harness, tying my wrist cuffs to my waist in front, rather like a shackled prisoner. Except that the rope between my legs painfully pinched my still sore pussy.

Then he held up two implements and told me to choose which he would start with.  I indicated the crop with my nose.   He deliberately set the crop down and began beating me with the other thing- the strigil.  Your choices don't matter.  But you still have to make them.  

He pushed me to the ground on my knees.  I teetered awkwardly forward.   My head was on the floor because of my hands being fastened to my waist. 

He cropped me in earnest on the backs of my thighs.  
Ow. Ow. Ow.   I think I cried.  Maybe.  Anyway, it really hurt bad.

Master stood me up again.   He got out the whip, the short one. 

"You know, most people would ask NOT to be whipped for their reward,"  he commented.

"Most people don't like whipping, though" was my answer.  I hoped it didn't sound too smart assed.  

And I loved it.  Every last welt-leaving stroke.  He switched from the short whip to the bull whip, that one that I made for him.
 I could feel the streaks growing down the backs of my thighs.  Sometime it would wrap the sides of my waist.  Ohhhh, I wanted to cum badly, but I waited.

More stripes down the backs of my legs. A hard one just at the edge of my butt crack made me yelp and dance.   He stepped forward, held me, and told me to come, which I did.

Then Master untied me and got me on the bed, positioning me between his legs.  He alternated having me suck and fuck, then he let me put the Hitachi on my cunt.   I was sucking him while using the vibrator. 

He pinched my nose shut.  I couldn't breath at all, with his cock filling my mouth, unable or unwilling to back off of it, I'm not sure.

He held me that way for who knows how long, pulling my head down, bobbing my head to pleasure himself in my mouth, my brain pounding with the need for air, my cunt throbbing on the wand with the need for orgasm.  

He let go and gave the order to come all at once.  I completely exploded in ecstacy.  It was blazingly, shatteringly good.   

You know how there have been five great orgasms since 1642 B.C. ... (before then couples hooked thumbs.) And the precise rating of orgasms is a terribly difficult thing, often leading to great controversy...Well, this one left them all behind.

Then he was pulling my head down again on his cock and pinching my nose again.  I don't even know anything after that, but I think there was a lot more of the same.

Eventually he rolled me over on to my stomach and fingered my ass.  He stuck his cock in it, which hurt like fiery devils.  I squirmed away.

"No, no, no Master, no," I begged.  Pointlessly of course.

He held me down, told me to breath deeply, fingered me once more, then fucked my ass until he came. 

I like Mondays.