I need a better title

The things he came up with last night affected me so strongly and strangely that after I have begged to come, after I have been on the edge of coming just from his words, well, not just his words because he has beaten my ass raw and is fucking away deep inside me, after I come...

 It is the humiliation of the things he is saying that is driving me to the edge of orgasm.  I want it so badly, I beg him for it.  After he has given me permission and I come with a great soaking, I want to laugh.  

It seems highly inappropriate, to laugh after being utterly destroyed with humiliation, being taken down a very dark path into the boggy subconscious where the things I fear could very well be real. 

When I have let go of myself this way I WANT them to be real. 

After I have come, I see in his eyes that he wants to laugh too.  And we do. For a second I am afraid that we are far apart.  I'm not sure but that we are laughing at different things.   I'm laughing at myself for being so insanely and utterly turned on by such horrible things.  It turns out he's laughing for the same reason and we are so close together that we almost share two halves of the same very twisted mind. 

Yes, it is horrible and scary and even probably a little evil, but it is so hot.

 And somehow that makes it funny.   

Sick Kids, Dead Dog, Fucking Life

I was saying yesterday, the kids are sick. The older one is mostly better now, the little one, just started coming down with it yesterday.   

Master was putting the little one to bed while I waited in our room for him to get back. He'd been playing on the laptop while I read my book.   I heard noises of the not at all encouraging kind.

Master came back in to the bedroom and asked "Would you like to go clean up the barf?"

Ummmmmm.

I asked if he wanted an honest answer or if he wanted me to say "Yes, Sir!"

He said "I want you to say 'Yes, Sir!' and go do it.  I live for that shit".  Then he swatted me.   This would have been funny except then I had to go clean up barf.

Also, we had to put our dog Kip to sleep last night.   He was 12 and he had cancer, not the treatable kind, so when he seemed to be in pain yesterday I let Master know it was time.

  We dug a hole, then Master and I did the euthanasia ourselves in the kitchen (he is a vet).  I held the dog and rolled the vein and he did the injections, and then we buried him in the dark under the lilac, both of us crying. 

It really was not a good day.  

Good weekend

We had a very good weekend together.  The kids went to stay with friends, and Master and I went to a Halloween themed play party.

We had a marvelous time.  I got beaten, a lot, and am still sore from that, though I barely have a bruise anywhere (leather butt syndrome).   We also had tons of sex.    

Now I'm back to reality where the kids are sick (AGAIN!  How can they manage to be sick so much?  It's horrible.)

Cravings

Master went to bed early last night, after we had gone out for Mexican food with some friends from his work and assorted children. 

 I was up late letting dogs out and feeding them for a while.   When I finally came to bed he woke slightly and got up to brush his teeth (he was REALLY tired, so much that he just flopped into bed).  He came back in and I asked him if I could touch my cunt.  He said no. I hadn't had an orgasm that day, but ok, no big deal, right?  I was horny but not desperate, plus I was sleepy too even though it was only 10:00 then.

As we snuggled under the covers his hand slid down by body to my inner thigh.    I kept my legs closed a few fractions of a second too long.    He whispered fiercely to me "You will open  your legs when I reach for your cunt, slave."  My legs spread for him.  The sternness, the demand, the ownership in his words thrilled me then and even more now, thinking about it.   Wanting to touch myself still.

He tormented my cunt and my mind for a few minutes, telling me I'd have to wait, that there would be no fucking until tomorrow. He asked me if I wanted it, and how badly and what I wanted and I replied to him.  When I was good and worked up he told me it was bedtime and went to sleep.  Big sigh.

My emotions during all this were remarkably calm.  Of course I am just here to serve him and if I am a bit frustrated because he wants me to be, that is my proper place.  But this calm and comforting emotion contrasts severely with other times when the same situation has thrown me into a more desperately unhappy state of mind.   
There have been other times when I badly wanted this feeling of acceptance of his will and could not find it.  It is such a relief to have that, at least.

I woke at 6 am with his hard-on pressing against me.  I rubbed back against him with my ass.  He told me to suck it and I squirmed under the covers to comply eagerly.   In a few minutes he pulled me off of him by my hair and then the exquisite command came:

"Lie on your back and spread your fucking legs, cunt".  

He fucked me and came quickly because he had to be off to work, but it was very delicious.  He slapped my face and made me come too.  I'm craving so much more now, but not allowed to masturbate still today. 

Things going well

Things are going well.  The last two nights Master made an extra effort to be with me, spend time with me, watch some movies, and especially helpful for my mood problem, to order me about to do various things, fuck me silly and then last night to use my ass thoroughly.  

Plus I went to lunch with Mystique yesterday and another friend today.  

I am feeling very cared for right now.  I just have a few minutes to jot something here before we head out to dinner too (yay, no cooking!).   

And with any luck, a kinky event to attend tomorrow night, a Halloween party. 

An Hour Ago

An hour ago I was in the shower, curled at the drain, crying.  Watching the clear water swirl around the drain and thinking how much better it would look in deep red. 

I imagined Master pissing on me, lifting my chin and covering my face, hair, lips, nose, eyes, stinking piss everywhere.   "Man, that smells bad", he said- that was Sunday, wasn't it? And Saturday too.   I silently agreed with him then.

I am worth pissing on.  Otherwise, why would he bother.  I pulled myself up, away from the mesmerizing drain, shaved half of one leg (who is going to see my legs, who cares?) and got out to dry myself.  I considered going collarless (who will notice? who cares?) but I put it on after all.   I considered not being a slave anymore, but I know that is what I am and I can't do otherwise.

Doing some work

I cleaned up my plant area on the kitchen window, re-potted a succulent that had way overgrown its pot and was trying to take over the pot of the cactus next to it with its little dropping rootlets. 

 I threw out the basil plant which had died due to our house being too cold for it.  Then I cleaned out the fridge (my Tuesday chore from Master's schedule), swept downstairs and vacuumed upstairs.   I'm feeling a bit wooly headed and dizzy now; I probably have the cold the kids brought home.

Last night we went over to Mystique's where we dozed on and off (all the adults anyway, the kids were wide awake) while watching Big Bang Theory on television.

So, not much exciting going on here.  How about in your world?   

I Don't Have Any of the Power

... and yet another reminder of this fact last night.   

I don't WANT the power here, but every now and then I start to think maybe I have some, in a weird roundabout way.  Like if I say no maybe it will keep him from doing that thing.  Or if I say no when I mean yes he will have to do that thing simply to show me he can.  But I don't even have that much power.  He does just want he wants.  

I should have figured that out by now.   
"Duh" moment or deeper learning moment?  
Or just a reminder?  
I guess I need those sometimes.  
Anyway, here are some pretty trees: 

Links

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Nightly Beatings

Master tells me to lie face down on the bed on an extra blanket to start out.  Afterward I suck his cock and thank him for the beating.   It has been wonderful getting nightly beatings this week.   There has been less sex, which is the norm for the week of my period, because he isn't keen on the mess, but last night after the caning and the sucking he also fucked me, which was extra wonderful.   I had the most massive orgasm, and it was one that was not on command.  

Happily for me that does not get me in trouble.   


I have gotten a beating with cane or paddle or both every night this week.  I have a rather large bruise on  my ass, and a very sore thigh. 

 This makes me content.  I poke them. 

 There was a writing on fet about a girl thinking "constantly wearing his marks on my body" would a horrible thing, and how she's so glad her dom is NICE, and then a massive drama about this gal's new dom frenzy ramblings, but all I could think was that I am so lucky in the weeks when I do feel his marks on me day after day, and have them refreshed at night.   

Also, fall is gorgeous here when it's not raining.

Contrasts

This morning.  In the kitchen.  He's on his way out the door and gives me a tender hug.  He strokes my face and tells me he loves me.  He picks up a knife from the dish drainer and presses it to my throat.   No reason, just because he can.   I instantly turn from sleepy and tender to slightly afraid and very aroused.  He tells me to orgasm, right there, standing in the kitchen and I do. He's holding me up with one arm.  He lets go of me, picks up his lunch and heads out. 

Belt

Master came home much earlier than I expected yesterday, so I hadn't really finished doing a lot of things I should have done.  

When I asked if he wanted lunch, instead of saying yes as I expected, he gripped the back of my neck and propelled me into the living room.  No one else was home.  He pushed me over the arm of the sofa, lifted my robe and I heard the clinking of his belt buckle.   Doubled up in his hand, the belt came down on my ass and thighs.  He looped it around my wrists (such a great versatile item!) and he held me like that with one hand while he spanked me with the other.   Leaving the belt on my hands, he moved to my face and allowed me to suck his cock.  Then he pulled me upstairs using the belt as a leash.  He pulled it to the floor forcefully and me along with it.  I crouched on the floor, peering back at him nervously as he got implements out.  He caned me in that position, then ordered me up, took took the belt back and beat me some more with it.   I had had several orgasms by this time, all on his command.

Master ordered me into bed where he had me suck his cock while he read some stories from our book of vintage erotica.  Some of the things they thought about back then- whooo wee!  One day I'm going to type it up and share it here, perhaps- my favorite story of St. Francis' holy relic expunging the sins of a maiden while her friend watches from a hiding place (spoiler, the "relic" is Father whatshisname's penis!).  "Ah Father, I see heavenly bliss opening up to me!"   

Then Master fucked me good and thoroughly.  It had been soooo long since I'd had anything more than beatings and giving head. 

 It had been since Saturday morning, actually, which is practically forever to my oh so greedy cunt, and it was desperately eager for him.  After hanging my head off the bed and fucking me, he allowed me to use the vibrator as I rode him.  He slapped and punched and bit me.  My tits are still aching. 

 He fucked me from behind and held off my nose and mouth until my chest strained for breath, then he'd let go and order me to come. It was hard to tell which was sweeter, the first breath or the orgasm.  
Both together, is like heaven. 

Afterward, our normal shower ritual.  

Is my life?

Is my life empty because I don't get to go clothes shopping? 

Is my life empty because I don't have a useful, satisfying or fulfilling career?

Is my life empty because I don't spend 20 hours a week rushing my kids from one activity to another?

Is my life empty because I don't get to buy new shoes for the fun of it?

Is my life empty because I go out with friends so seldom that a tupperware party invitation seems like a fanciful day out that I probably won't be able to attend?  

Is my life empty because we don't go out to dinners at nice restaurants or take vacations?

No.

My life is full because my Master's eyes sparkle when he smiles at me.  And mine sparkle back when he swats my butt. 

My life is full because I have dear friends that love me, even when I don't get to see them all the time. 

My life is full because I stop in the living room to high five or hug my kids, just because I love them.  

My life is full because I take pauses to watch birds, pet dogs, feel the rain or smell the leaves.

My life is full because my kids show kindness, and I know it is partly because we have taught them by example to be kind.  

My life is full because when the littlest kid accidentally broke Master's favorite tea mug, he simply said "Don't worry, we'll get a new one," and comforted the child who utterly distraught. 

My life is full because the older child loves some of the same books I do and we talk about them.  I read some of his books just because he says "Mom, you must read this!  It is great!" and sometimes they are.  

I have enough.  

Tea... With Love

I have been wanting to write about the topic of sacred service since August, but have never found a way to tackle it that didn't sound overly sappy.  But honestly, who doesn't have a bit of the sappy romantic that wants to creep out occasionally?

We went to a presentation on the topic at Tryst, and it struck a chord for both of us.  Because Master is an atheist, it didn't mean sacred in the religious "Praise god" kind of way as much as it meant to us adding significance and meaning to ordinary acts by thinking in certain ways about them.  It is a way of making them more special and meaningful in themselves and in regard to our relationship.

When I put mindfulness of how it will nourish my Master into small daily acts of service, whether that is making his salad which will fill him with healthy and delicious food, or making the bed so he can go to sleep more comfortably at night, it makes the acts feel not so small and insignificant.  It can brighten both of our moods.   Tea served with love just tastes better, he says.

I'm not going to pretend I go about my day like Snow White frolicking with the forest critters, but if every now and then I think to myself about what I am doing, the fact that I am doing it for him, doing it the best way I can, and putting a little extra thought and love into it, those good thoughts are bound to carry over into other happy places.     

A Dangerous Method, the movie

Master went over to Mystique's to watch the Walking Dead without me last night.  I have no interest in the show, because zombies creep me out.

While he was out, I thought I'd watch the rest of A Dangerous Method, but the very next scene was a wonderful spanking and as soon as I saw that I shut it off.  For one thing, the kid was still awake, in the other room, and for another, I didn't want to get all hot and bothered again!  

When Master came home we did finish watching it together, although I said I didn't want to.  He definitely wanted to see the spanking scene.  Then there was another one later on.  With a belt. 

Master told me to bend over the couch arm and stay while he went to get an implement.  Humiliation and anticipation prickled through me as I waited for minutes or perhaps just seconds for him to return.

He liked the scenes so much he rewound the movie several times and watched both over and over while he swatted me with something he found in the toy box (I don't actually know what it was).    It was so very hot to see Knighly on the TV cuffed to the bed, getting the same thing I was.  Oh, and she orgasmed too, or at least her character did.  

There was a line from the movie that I particularly liked.  

A psychologist-turned-patient tells Jung "I can't understand what you're waiting for.  Just take her to some secluded spot and thrash her to within an inch of her life.  That's clearly what she wants".  

 Jung, who believes it wrong to get involved with his patients that way, resists this advice.  At first.   

Obviously, it is wrong, but it makes the movie more exciting.  This is all a pretty fictionalized account of the actual historical psychologists.  

When he was done I was stumbling and giggling, trying to lean on him and then went to my knees to kiss his hand. 

Master then took me upstairs and doubled over his belt.  I braced against the dresser.  He walloped me long and hard and my tenderized butt was soon doubly sore and bruised.  Sitting down this morning is quite deliciously painful.   

 

This Morning

He came down. I had his tea ready, and I told him what I was up to.

He said I didn't wake him up at all. He didn't notice anything, not even the parts when he was talking in his sleep, and thus I didn't break any rules at all, so he could beat me just for the fun of it.  

I guess intent doesn't count.  Or something.  He did threaten a real punishment if I did wake him up with my shenanigans though.   

  He had me rub his back while he read the blog and a bunch of other stuff.  When the tea was done he took me back upstairs, tied my wrists together and put a tie around my neck.  A necktie.  To pull me around.  

He motioned me casually to my knees in front of him, telling me I was going to suck him off and he wasn't going to fuck me.  He pulled on the tie around my neck.  God, I love that.   After a bit he moved to the bed.  I lay on my side and sucked hard until he came in my mouth.  Then he rolled me over and beat me most cruelly with the cane and paddle.   

Most cruelly, I tell you.  I loved it.  

After that he wanted breakfast and I was trying to straighten the bed and put the toys away when he came and swatted me, saying "Breakfast, woman!"  heh.  I dropped all the stuff and went to cook.

I made hash browns with sausage and cheese for him and just the hash browns for me.   They were made from last night's mashed whole red potatoes, and were extra delicious.   

A Dangerous Method

Last night we watched the first half of this movie, about Freud (Viggo Mortenson!) and Jung (some guy) and a pretty patient (Keira Knightly!).   It was better than I thought it was going to be.  The only reason I picked it up from the library was one review on the back said it was "occasionally kinky".  Good enough for me!  

Turns out she's a masochist and is practically frothing for a beating the whole movie.  They haven't shown anything, in the first half at least, but just all the talking about it sure got me pining.

I must have asked for a spanking at least three times in my not so subtle ways, but Master said no.  Eventually I gave up before I pissed him off.  (Cue the old joke about the Sadist)

I woke up at dark o'clock in the morning with kinky visions dancing around my head.  You know how sometimes there is imagining just for imagining and other times there is the longing and the yearning and just, I don't know, the pure torment of  not having it?  Craving.  That's all.   Fiercely.

I first started imagining what rules I could break that would make Master throw me around, throw me down, really beat the snot out of me.  Then I reminded myself that first of all, I shouldn't do things like that (bad slave), and also, it probably wouldn't work because he wouldn't react that way anyway.   I reminded myself to be obedient, for maybe an hour or so of lying there.  Then I started pushing (breaking) the rules.  I'm not allowed to wake him up.   I started stroking him, which probably didn't wake him up but might have.  Still, it was pretty pushy.   Then I played with myself, also against the rules without asking.  I didn't come, instead I stopped and reminded myself to behave.  Then I pulled my collar tight against my neck.  I hope I don't have to say why.   I'm not sure if this falls under "Don't hurt yourself" or not.  Hopefully I didn't break that rule too.   Then I touched myself again while pulling the collar tight.   His hand reached for me, and I put it between my legs.  I don't even know where that falls in the rules.  Probably outside.  But he was wiggling his fingers while (presumably?) sleeping, and he made me come.   Then he told me I should get up and let him sleep, so I did.  I guess he wasn't sleeping after all. 

Sigh.  Life as a very bad slave. :(    I can't wait until he reads my confession.  :( 

A non-post-aaarrgh.

I just read a wonderful writing about a morning cafe experience. 

 And my brain is totally blocked.  I want to write something beautiful and moving and ecstatic and erotic.... I got nothing.   This is in spite of having a delicious Friday night and Saturday morning of beatings and orgasms... but there are people non stop talking to the computer game in the other room, I can't move my computer elsewhere, and the noise is jangling my nerves something terrible.  

 Master is asking me to help him do things every few minutes anyway, so this is just not the right time for blog writing, I guess.   

Plus we were supposed to go to Madison today to see some of my family who are visiting there, but we are all sick and can't go.  
So, I'm sad because it might be another year before I get a chance again.   It has been over a year since the last time I saw them and my brother has a new baby.  

Maybe I'll write something better later. 

Three Hole Thursday AKA The Pele of Anal

It used to be that Thursday was Master's day off, and we nick named it Three Hole Thursday, because that was how many got used :).  

It hasn't been a day for play in a long time, since he's been picking up all the extra days at work, but last night he managed all three holes used anyway.  

He has been calling me "The Pele of Anal", so I felt I had to live up to my new nickname and take it without squirming away/screaming/shrieking, because obviously we couldn't make too much noise.   I didn't even have to bite my pillow, happy to say! 

Breakfast

This morning I made breakfast for him with a clothespin on my twat.   Sausage, cheese burrito with salsa.

Also, I'm wondering what his co-workers must think of me now.  First he told them all about the whole potato fiasco (I know, I know, I never wrote about it).  

Short version:  he told me to make breakfast potatoes, and even had me start them the night before so they were all boiled.  In the morning I forgot all about it.  I made pancakes instead.  He was most disappointed.  Derp.

He told people at work how upset he was with me, and they all thought he was terrible, I guess.  I wasn't there.   Now, in my world, failing to carry out a direct order is pretty upsetting, no matter what the reason.  I was quite unhappy that I hadn't done what he wanted. 

  But since they don't get me, don't get us, they didn't understand.  

 Actually, Mystique said I could come live with her and make her any breakfast I wanted (Master brought it up to her, not me!), and she DOES get us.   But anyway, maybe she doesn't as much as I thought, because I was truly guilty that I had made the wrong breakfast.   Or maybe she just wants a live in slave to make her food.    

Then Master's co-workers were talking about Fifty Shades of Grey yesterday.  I don't even know how that came up, but evidently Master told them that I read all the books.   He didn't admit to anything specific, but somehow they ended up asking HIM the questions, like "What does BDSM even mean?"   He may or may not have invited them to visit his "red room of pain".  It's hard to tell when he's being serious.     BTW we just have a regular room of pain (AKA bedroom), there is nothing red about it.  

All Kinked Up

My Master praised me last night for asking for my punishment (this was a few days ago, and I didn't write about it because I HATE writing about punishments, especially in the immediate time afterward.  Later on, it becomes easier).  

He praised me for asking for what I needed rather than just going all quiet and mopey all day, as I tend to do.      

He punctuated his praise with heavy swats from the riding crop.

"Grab the bed rails and don't let go for anything".  Swat!

"This beating is a reward", he said.  

That is fine in theory. 
Before, it sounds fine.  
After, it feels fine.  
During?   It's kind of hard to process.  

Because the crop hurts.  

At first it hurts, anyway.  Then it melts into one big pleasant thumping sensation.   He gets out a clothespin and attaches it to my labia.   He moves it around a few times, eventually moving it to a spot up near my clit.  He begins fucking me from behind.  The pin pulls painfully, most pleasantly painfully.

He stops to put a couple more on my pussy, and I'm moaning while he goes to get a whole lot of clothespins.  And a rope.   They are hurting.  Breathe, breathe. 

"We haven't ever done the zipper yet, have we?"  

"No, Master".  I'm still lying on my stomach, gripping the headboard rails, but he has me let go of them to suck his cock and then lie on my back, legs spread.  

The clothespins go on my breasts, then one on my stomach, but when I yelp at that he moves it to my inner thigh.  Then something like three or four on my cunt.  I can't really see, since I have my eyes closed and am floating off into floaty spaces after a little bit of nervous hyperventilating.   The clothespins are all attached to the rope.  

"Are you ready?"

"Yes, Master".

He counts down: "Three.  Two.  One."   Rrriiipppp!  They are all pulled away and he tells me to come just as the last ones are yanked off my cunt.

A few seconds given to breathe, then he asks if I want to do it again.

I find myself saying "Yes, Master". 

Not kinked

There has been no kink here today to write about, but we went for a glorious walk in the woods today, Ben and I.   We saw a big flock of turkeys and were nearly run over by a squirrel.

Really.

I heard this crashing noise in the woods, and stopped to see if it was a deer coming.   Nope, just a monstrously fat industrial sized squirrel walking down the path toward us.  Ben was on high alert at the end of his leash.  The squirrel walked right up to him, and I had to pull Ben out of its way, because I really didn't want him biting a squirrel, and he probably would have if he could have reached it.   The squirrel just continued on its way like we weren't there.  

This is Ben standing on a fence.

Inspired

So, I was cleaning the basement today, and got a little bit, ummmm, inspired by this closet.   I swept out the cobwebs, then brought my leash and cuffs down for a picture.  The dog crate just happened to be there....

This goes in the "unlikely to ever happen" category of fantasy, but oh well.   Here's a close up.

Surprise!

Sometimes you go to a munch and end up tied up with two other people and punched and smacked a lot.   

Hee hee!  

Saturday we had fun!  

Correction without Punishment

Holding the reins tight doesn't have to be all about punishment. 

 It can be, but it doesn't have to be. 

 Sometimes it is just about attention, that he notices something I do and tells me it needs to be done differently.  For example, last night during our ritual (not a nightly thing, but an as often as he feels like it ritual, which is generally once every few days) when he got to the part where he tells me how I could have served him better,  he said I should have known to make sausages or bacon with the biscuits because he always wants a breakfast meat with the biscuits.   I had been waiting for him to tell me each time, or asking, but yesterday I didn't.   By the time he said he wanted them, it was too late to have everything done at the same time.  The biscuits were already done.   I made bacon and sausage, but it was 10 or 15 minutes later.   To him, it was not worth a punishment, but it was worth noting and telling me how I could do better.   

I really feel like this amount of structure and discipline is comforting to me.   I love the days when in his eyes there is nothing I could have done better and he tells me I'm wonderful, but if there weren't also days where I could use improvement I think the former wouldn't be meaningful.

Rules and Enforcement

If you're going to have rules, you better feel like enforcing them.  

This was a topic on Fet, where a new Master had all these seemingly strict rules but in further discussion it turned out he didn't enforce them all the time.  Only if he felt like it, and sometimes harshly, but sometimes not at all.

Ok, I'm a dog trainer.  The trainer gets the dog they deserve, and the Master gets the slave he deserves.  We always say there is no one true way, but these are things that are important to ME, and that I have heard other slaves say are important to them as well.  They may not be universal, but still could be a handy guide for the newbie. 
  I think in terms of consistency, clarity, function, and success.  I believe this new Master is doomed to failure if he continues on this path of vague, unenforceable and oddly strict seeming rules, and here is why:      

1. Consistency:   It gives the slave confidence that what they are doing is right and necessary.

2. Clarity:  Don't make rules that contradict each other because then the slave will blow off the whole deal as impossible to follow.  The same for rules that are overly vague and flowery.  

3. Function:   Make sure your rules fit in with the realities of life.  No one can ask before doing EVERY single thing.  May I breathe, sir?  Oh, he's asleep, I guess I won't breathe then.  No.  This is not reality. 

4. Success:   Allow the slave to be successful by paying attention to consistency, clarity and function.

A Little Tune

WHACK Whackity Whack Whack. WHACK Whackity Whack Whack.

"What song is this?" he asks me.

"Bolero?"

"Yes.  It is a horrible song, isn't it, slave? Even if it does make a nice beating rhythm."

With a grin, I peak over at him standing there with the cane in his hand.

"No, I think it is a nice tune".

"What?" he says, not quite believing that I like Bolero.  Especially that I like it on my ass.

"I like that song, Bolero" I say, full of glinting cheekiness now to contradict him.

WHACK.  WHACK.  Whackity Whack Whack. WHACK Whackity Whack Whack.  And he moves down to my thighs with a stronger stroke.   I'm in that sobbing/not quite crying phase, all the glints and cheek gone out of me, when he pushes me to the ground and I curl up in a ball.  He kicks my ass.

I still like Bolero though. 

Places to have sex: On the car

Master and I walked down to visit a neighbor briefly last night.  It was dark, humid and damp and only slightly cool.   I took a flashlight, because there was no moon and no lights out here unless I turn on the yard light.  That only reaches a short way toward the front gate anyway.  Last night it was off.

 On the way back,  just past the pond and through the small woods around our driveway, coming up to the gate, he told me to pull down my pants.   I did, and he spanked me then told me to pull them back up.  He was unbuckling his belt.   I knelt when he ordered me to and took his cock in my mouth.  After a few vigorous thrusts he stopped and headed up to the garage.  He was walking so fast I had to trot along behind to keep up.

He led me to the front on his car, jerked down my pants and pushed me over the hood face down.   He slammed up into me so quickly I moaned an ouchy moan but immediately loosened to accommodate him.

After a while he pulled me up, then moved me around to the very front of the car and pushed me down so I was lying completely on the car on my back, in an old dent made when he hit a deer a few years ago.  I took off my coat and pulled up my shirt.  I didn't have a bra on.   I heard the creaking of the hood and hoped I wasn't damaging anything.  Then he fucked me again and the car made this awesome rocking motion, swinging me out and then bringing me back into him like a spring.   It felt so good that I was on the brink of coming without any commands.  He knew I was on the edge, but instead of telling me to wait he slapped my face and I came, squirting all down the car and over the headlight, as we saw later.    Again, and again, he pumped and then slapped me, and I came over and over.

He stopped before he came so that he could fuck me again later on in bed.  With ass punchings and the vibrator.  

Ahhh, this is a good life, isn't it?  

Room 101: All Your Nightmares

Pain has kindly given me something to write about from her blog HERE.   Because I have nothing.  After some quickie sex yesterday morning, in the evening Master and I were talking about what we were going to do at night.  I was hoping for whipping. He was threatening to come on my tits and leave me horny.   Then we both felt sick and went to bed early with no desire for fun sexytimes at all.   Sigh.

Room 101, from George Orwell's 1984, is where you get to lock your nightmare stuff so it can't come out and bother you.    My top three things that I would be happy never to do/have done again are going to sound very goofy, and I know this will probably backfire on me because then he'll want to do them more now, but here goes:

1. Tummy blows.   I hate it when he blows raspberries on my tummy.  It tickles, it hurts in an unfun way (my stomach is sensitive).   This also goes for biting in that area.   It is all I can do not to hit back.

2.  When he makes me tie him up.  I don't like it.   Yes, it is a service to him because he tells me to do it, and yes, I'm still his slave even then.  But it still feels weird and uncomfortable.   At least my head isn't all broken about it any more, he's got my head with a semi-decent attitude, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't love to never to do it again. 

3.  Playing Zombies and Blowjobs. Worst game ever.  Sometimes he has me give him a blowjob while he kills zombies in a video game.   One, zombies are just creepy and not sexy.  Two, he's so busy with the game he's not enjoying what I'm doing (other than the pure humiliation/torture factor of making me do something I hate- he likes that, but his cock isn't enjoying it as much as it could.  I can tell.  It is in my mouth.)
Also, he complains that his game doesn't go well because I'm distracting him, and not only that, but he bonks me in the head with the game controller.