Answers!

Thank you for the great questions!  Tori's first:
 

1) 3 things kink wise that are on your to-do list?

I try never to make a kinky to do list.   A bucket list, I avoid like anything.  However, since it is question month I suppose I have to answer.  Of course, all are subject to Master letting me do them, as you could probably guess.

1.  Being tied up and used, blindfolded, by a group of people.  Maybe I know them, maybe not.  Master is there, and he's the only one who knows who is doing what.  I'm just there to be holes for use.

2.  Bukkake and/or getting pissed on by several men.  Oh my.  I'm pretty sure he's not going to let me do that.  But you never know, so I'm putting it down.   

3.   Single tail whipping done in a severe way, so there is blood.  I'm not sure I'd actually like that, but I do love whips, and have always had them used so only minor or medium welts were made, not real severe ones.  I just love the look of those marks.   I want some.  Though it scares me.


2) have you tried something that you thought you would really like and subsequently have not?

Hmmm.  Not really.  Mostly I have been afraid of just about everything before trying it, then once I've done it I decide either it is ok, pretty good or I love it.   Of course, just about every implement can be used in a WAY that I don't like in the moment, so there is that.  But that is sort of a love/hate thing.  The more I hate it, the more I love it.  

3) favourite form of bondage?

I love having my hands tied behind my back.  I think those are the times I have felt most helpless and submissive, when I can't use my hands, and especially if they are behind me.   When he has done this, most often he also has me on my knees and fucks me from behind.  It is a very controlled, helpless and sexy thing for me. 

And from Florida Dom, thank you also! 


1. Do you like the pain he gives you? Does it make you feel more submissive?

Yes I do. Many times when I'm receiving pain I am getting very turned on by it.  Even when it gets so intense that I think I can't take it, a few minutes of breather and I'm riding it again, finding a happy spot to get in with the pain.  

It is not so much the pain that makes me feel submissive, it is the way he does it.  It is the dominating attitude that goes along with everything else.  He doesn't have to be hurting me to raise that feeling though, it could merely be tone of voice or humiliation that would do it.  

2. Do you often spot blood after a hard fucking?


After a lot of hard fucking, yes, it is not uncommon at all for me.   "Fucked bloody", Master said last night. 


And from scarlet, more excellent questions!  Thank you, all of you!

1. How do you deal with your emotions on days when you don't want to submit?

I don't really have days I don't want to submit.  It is more like brief instants of not wanting to do certain things, then the instant is over and I'm doing it.   I have days when I feel grouchy and out of sorts, of course, but I still want to submit.   He can pull me out of these moods by applying any number of techniques to me, but the most problems come for me when he's also preoccupied and has very little to do with me, so I'm pretty much on my own, grumping around being unhappy.   Then I can get a very bad attitude.  If possible I will try to fix it myself by quietly kneeling at his feet. 

2. If you could stop Him from doing one thing ever again, what would it be?


Hahahaha- he's going to be mad, but playing Civilization would be my number one.   It is a massively time sucking video game. 



Feel free to submit more questions at any time!  

Answers for Questions

March is Question and Answer Month! 

So if you have questions, I'll have answers.

Paddles and rubber bands, fucking too

Master and I had a GREAT weekend, then Monday morning rolled around.  Three day weekends are the best!  He had some tea and spent some time killing zombies (Dead Rising) while I played on the laptop and drank my coffee.

After his tea, he sent me upstairs to get my collar, wrist cuffs, rope and beating implements.   He left the choice up mostly up to me, except for there needing to be a paddle, so what I picked out were the strigil, crop, cane and curved paddle.   His shoulder is not yet up to using something like a whip or belt (in a whipping motion- raising the belt straight up and down is fine, but he like to zip it out there like a towel rat tail).   

Master told me to strip, tied me with the ropes, and began first with the strigil, a hard stripe on top of each of my thighs as I knelt in front of him.

I can't remember what all happened, as much as I'd like to give the blow by blow.  (Ha!)

At one point he caned my tongue.  

The paddle on my ass was the worst, though, bad in a way that made me sob and tense up and finally go limp and just bear with it. 

It lasted for hours, and there was beating, cock sucking, and much, much fucking (so much that I'm still spotting blood).

One ingenious torment came from a video we had watched.   My breasts were bound.  He took a rubber band and aimed it at them, about an inch away, but the band was drawn back, way back.  I looked at it with trepidation.

He told me to put my hands behind my back and close my eyes.  

"Are you ready?"  He asked several times.  

Trembling, I answered "Yes, Master" each time.  

Each time he asked I trembled just a bit more.  

The first snap was light.  The second not so light.  He went on snapping and snapping my nipples until there were bruises around them.  I shrieked and wanted to cover them with my hands, but didn't.
 He also made me lie back and did the same to my cunt.  It was so painful, but each time he did a really hard snap he told me to come and I bucked with the agonized ecstasies of it.  

It must have been 3 or 4 hours later that he put me on the floor on my back one final time, between the couch and the coffee table. 

 Thrusting inside me again, he told me  "Order me to fuck and beat you more now."  

 I laughed and looked away, embarrassed to have to pretend to tell him what to do.   I tried to beg out of it, but he gripped my throat in his hand and said "Say it!"   I knew he was just messing with me, and I said it.  

"I order you to beat me and fuck me more, Master",  I said.

He slapped my face-- smack, smack, smack, harder and harder, on each cheek, back and forth.

"How dare you try to tell me what do to, slut. Cunt. Whore."

Smack, smack, smack. 

He came inside me with a shout.  I came also.

So fucking hot. 

Now THAT is a kink. Crops: KOTW

Ok, so I am a week behind on the kink of the week, but I honestly didn't feel inspired to write about it until yesterday's experience, because it had been a long, long time since I felt Master's crop.

I do (still) have a serious kink for riding crops.   It goes way, way back for me, before I'd even held one or felt one, it was in my imagination.   I used to ride horses quite a bit, but we didn't use crops on them, ever, so I'm not even sure how the idea got started for me.

 I used to have a fantasy of being owned by a Man who always carried a crop and would strike me for any little deviation in deportment or obedience.   Which was a lot at first, but as I got better trained I got hit less.   This was just a fantasy though.

Reality is totally different.  Master doesn't randomly strike me all the time for misbehavior because of my dang masochism.  Being whacked on the ass with a crop (or his hand. or a cutting board) feels more like a reward than a punishment.    "Good slave." WHAP!  

Until yesterday, his crop had been buried in the bottom of the toy bag for many months, replaced in regular use by the canes, the paddles, and some leather spanking toys mainly.   

The first pain toy I went out and bought for him was a crop, and for a while that was the only thing he had besides his hand.   I was super picky in buying that crop too.  Our local farm store only carries two types:  one has a hand shape on the end, and the other has a horse head.  I thought both of those were too goofy looking. I wanted the kind that had the simple plain loop of leather at the tip.  A SERIOUS crop.  Like the one in my fantasy.

  I searched farm stores until I finally found the one I wanted down in Missouri at the Dickey Bub.  (great name, huh?).   I tested them out in the store, swished them around and tapped my leg, then bought it with some embarrassment and hid it in my car so my relatives wouldn't see it.   

When I brought it home, it became a ritual for me to wait, kneeling naked, with the crop in my mouth for him to come and use it on me at bedtime.  

Well, that carefully purchased and treasured crop lasted about 2 months before he broke it on my ass.   I had lost my finickiness over the design, and just ran down to Fleet Farm and got the one with the hand shape on the end.  By then we had a lot more toys, and the crop had lost it's place as the one I held for him.  Now I wait without any toys, and if he wants to use something on me he goes and picks it out from the drawer or toy bag.  

But yesterday he got the crop out, and as I stood wearing my bit and with the reins held tight to keep me from dancing around, he lightly cropped my breasts and face.   My eyes were glazing in pleasure so obviously he even commented on it. 


  See more about cropping here:

A Pony Named Buttercup

This morning I got thoroughly ass fucked and paddled. 

 Then I made scones.  

Beaming and singing around the kitchen is a sure sign of a very much fucked slave around here :).  

This afternoon we went to a class at our local munch about pony and pet play.  We don't really do this, but I did happen to have an unused bit gag in the toy bag.  Fitted with a couple of dog leashes for reins, suddenly I was a ponygirl!   It was an interesting experience.  I don't know if we'll do it more, but I certainly can get into feeling horsey, or "pony space" as they say.  I didn't even feel silly about it, except that the gag made me drool, and that made me self conscious, so I kept taking it out to swallow.  Master purposely loosened it up so I could take it in and out and not drool all over the place.     I very much enjoyed the times he would literally tighten the reins and pull my head down, or pull it back and up to uncomfortable angles.  It is just so... well... so much loss of control to have one's head moved about like that.  Then he got out the riding crop, and whoooo, man! 

He thinks he could get into me dragging him around in a cart and swishing me with a dressage whip... anyone want to loan us a cart?   

On the way home he told me my "pony name" could be Buttercup. 

Middle of the Night

Master got home last night.  I served him dinner, and he chatted with the kids about what was going on in their lives.  

After he put them to bed, I rubbed his back while he checked out his websites.   We went to bed early.

About 2:30 am I woke up.  I lay quietly for a while, then when Master got up to use the bathroom I got up to go as well.  I checked on the fire, which wasn't going really much at all since he'd put a new log on a few minutes before.   I added some paper and sticks and fussed with it for a while, trying to make it go.

He went back to bed.  I turned on the computer because I wasn't really sleepy and didn't want to lie in bed awake any more.

He came back down and ordered me back to bed.  

"Yes, Master" I replied meekly.

I lay quietly for another unknown amount of time, still not sleepy.  Then I felt his hand between my legs.  I opened up for him, moaning and arching to him.  I wondered if he were just going to tease me and then drift off, or.....?

He made me cum, then pushed my head under the blankets to his cock.   I sucked it until he yanked me back up by the back of my robe (yes, I was freezing enough to be sleeping in my bathrobe and he didn't mind).

He pushed me on to my back and fucked me, then rolled me over and had me that way until he came.  

It was about 3:30 or 4 then, I think, and I slept really well until his alarm went off at 6.   Instead of ordering me to get up and make breakfast as usual, he rolled on top of me and fucked me quickly again.  When he ordered me to come I couldn't.   I told him I didn't.  He gripped my neck, slapped my face and ordered again "COME" and this time I did. 

We all have our "O" triggers.  O.o

Then I could get up and make his breakfast and tea.   After the kid had left for school, Master came and stood next to me as I sat at the kitchen table.  

"Suck it" was all he said.  I did, simply bending forward from my chair.  Is this the approved slavey way?  Who knows, but it is the most fast and efficient, which is what he cares about- mouth on cock, stat!

He pulled me out of my chair by the front of my robe and pushed me against the kitchen counter.  Bending me forward, lifting my robe, he began fucking me again.  Just for a few minutes, then Master pushed me to my knees in front of him.   

When he was done he told me to "Carry on" and I got back to my first cup of coffee of the day.

Some days are just really started out right, you know?   

 

Meltdown Time

I had a major meltdown yesterday morning while we were playing, that I had to mull over... my main lesson being that punching him only leads to bruising my hand. Also, a slave can run, but where ya gonna go when it is 10 degrees and you're naked?

I need to start back at the beginning I guess.

We started out with a long session of sucking cock.  For the first few hours (ok, I may be exaggerating here) it was so good to be between his knees on the floor.  He'd allowed me to turn up the heat in the house so we could play without freezing.  I was enjoying his hard cock, and pleasing him, and being warm for a change.  

Then my lips began to go numb, my legs were aching from kneeling and a cock sucking callous was growing in my mouth.   Still, I kept on.  He told me to go get him an implement.  I brought down the cane and he used it on me as I sucked more.   It is difficult to concentrate that way, but I did my best.

   He told me to get his foot between my legs and he allowed me to hump on it.  This is fairly humiliating, but by then I was so horny I didn't care, I just wanted something, anything, rubbing my cunt.   Even his foot. 
I begged to cum.  He made me wait.  And wait.   It was agonizing, and even more distracting than the cane, which was still coming down on me at irregular intervals.   He chided me a bit for not sucking as well, so I tried harder, sucked harder, tighter.  I guess it was good enough, because he told me to cum then.   That rocked my world.

After a few more hours (or so) he took me upstairs and fucked me.  I started giving him teasing looks and asked playfully if he wanted me to struggle and try to get away.  He said if I managed to get away he was going to fuck my ass.  

Well.

That caused a dilemma in my mind.  Sure, ass sex is fun.  But it hurts.  But it is fun.  But it hurts.   I did some minor, not very convincing, struggling.  I flipped over on my stomach, which is always a mistake, because that is the easiest way for him to pin my arms behind my back, and I now couldn't even pretend to struggle, merely to wave my feet uselessly.  With all his weight pressing down on me, his cock buried deep in my cunt, fucking me, I was truly stuck.  He orgasmed.  I orgasmed.  We rolled apart.

After a while of lying together I asked if I could have a teeny bit more spanking.  He thought that would be fun.  He got the paddle and a few different canes and began to work over both sides of me.  

At one point he had me on my back as he poised the paddle to strike and told me to raise up my legs.  I did. He gave the back of my thigh a great smack.   I was deep in happy sub land.  

He said "That was a stupid thing to do".  I was shocked.  I had only obeyed him.  Isn't that what he wanted? 

My brain was flashing "Danger Will Robinson" signs all over the place.

  I asked him to explain what he meant.  He said it was stupid to raise up my legs and expose my tender thighs when I could see he was all set to hit me.   I guess he only meant to humiliate me, the same as when he calls me a dumb cunt while we play, but his words struck into my heart and hurt me bad.   My flashing danger signs turned into red anger. 

Again, he told me to raise my legs.    I said no. 

Rational thought left my mind.  There was only red anger:  fear/humiliation/anger took over and I leaped out of bed and ran. 

"FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!"  I shouted over and over at him as I bolted.  "FUCK THIS SHIT!"

 He might have been saying some things too, but I didn't hear them. 

I ran down stairs and he chased me.  I headed for the back door, then realized it was 10 degrees F out there, and I was totally naked.   I tried to hide behind a chair, running around in circles to avoid him.  He caught me anyway, grabbed me, and held me as I fought like a rabid badger against him, still shouting at him.   That is when I punched him and hurt my hand.  I also stomped down hard on his foot once.  Then I tried to do it again to make him let go of me, but he merely moved his feet out of my way and held on.

He pushed me up against the couch to pin me.  I realized with shock what I was doing.  What I had done.  The fight went out of me as suddenly as it had come in.  I went limp and collapsed on the floor.   
I cried, groveled, sniveling out abject apologies for what I had done.  There was no excuse.  I was hyperventilating and he was telling me to breathe.  When I could do that he led me back up to bed. 

We talked about what was going on in my crazy brain, why I had flipped out.  He was sorry that I had taken his words the way I did.  He does demand obedience. Always. Even when he uses it to hurt me more.  He doesn't think I am stupid.  I'm not sure I agree with him there, after this episode.

 He wasn't going to punish me for this because he knew I was just hurting.  I explained how I had taken his words as a direct stab into the heart of my slavery, my self.  He explained that he only meant to humiliate me a little.

Forgive, not forget. 

But there was still the matter of catharsis.  Paying for sins. 

He had me roll over on my stomach.  He began beating me methodically.  For a long time.  It got harder and harder.  He shattered one cane.   He used another.   Then the paddle, which made me sob and squeak and cry all the harder.  I just can't take that damn paddle.

I was alternately flying and crying.   Then he took a leather strap, doubled over, and I could see out of the corner of my eye, it was coming down hard across my butt and thighs.  His arm was swinging down at full strength but I don't know that I could feel it much.   I had a "This is going to really hurt later" feeling.   And it did.

 
And then much later, after it was all done, after I got the piss beat out of me, in the cold, cold shower, misted only by the cold overspray as he enjoyed the hot water, I knelt willingly and happily at his feet:

"Does that taste sweet to you?"
"No."
"Oh good, I'm not getting diabetic."


Now, all my anger and fear and confusion gone, I'm left only with a profound gratitude to this man who is my Master, who will come after and catch me and hold me when I'm freaking out.  He will come for me.  He will keep me.  He will make me obey.  No matter what.