A Little Night Time Fantasy…

i had a difficult day yesterday, and Sir kindly took me out for ice cream to cheer me up, and then listened to a detailed description of the events that had made the day difficult, as well as all the underlying sociopolitical factors involved.

That was so far above and beyond the call of duty, or even the call of love, that I felt almost guilty asking him if i could have an orgasm too before i went to sleep.  He agreed, much to my delight, and it wasn’t one of His evil 87.5% ones either.  {Although, He stipulated that my next one will be partial.}

So i had a little fantasy as i moved toward that stress-relieving orgasmic moment.  It went something like this:

She hears him in the hall, hurries to the door, smiling, ready to welcome him home.

She is surprised to see another man with him.  What does this mean?  Will they delay their usual ritual?

She’s relieved when her master wraps his arms around her, as he always does, but blushes when he pulls the bodice of her dress down, exposing her breasts. Her nipples rub against his shirt.  His hand in her hair keeps her from turning her head to see if the other man is watching.

Then he releases her, lets her take a step back, and she is too shy to look away from him.  So she keeps her eyes on him as he says, “John, this is my girl.”  He brushes her nipples with his thumbs, making them harder, and she bites her lip, still watching her master.  Her pussy is wet.  Maybe wetter because she can feel the stranger watching her closely.

She is not sure what to do next, but the stranger says, “What is next in your greeting ritual?” and she knows then that she won’t escape the rest of it, that her master is going to expose her intimately to the other man.   She looks at her master pleadingly, but he nods, “Go ahead,” he says gently.  “Over the couch with you.”

But he kisses her first, a deep kiss that turns her focus completely to him.   In that moment, she would do anything he asks of her.

She walks to the end of the couch, pauses only long enough to pull her skirt up around her waist, then bends over.   She’s wearing heels, and her ass is higher than her torso.   She stands with her legs about shoulder width apart, as he’s taught her to do.  She is blushing at being exposed this way before another man, and more so when she feels hands – her master’s hands? – on her ass, spreading her cheeks.

His fingers penetrate her and she gasps.  He removes them, commenting, “Very wet.  She’s very wet already.”

She knows what comes next.  Her daily spanking may very in length and intensity, depending on how many infractions of rules she’s committed, or her master’s mood, but she knows there will be a spanking.

The stranger says, “Will you start with your hand?”

“Usually,” says her master.  “I will today.  I’ll want to warm her up pretty well before we go too far into this.”

His hand is stroking her ass, and she waits, enjoying the caress that she knows won’t last long.  When he raises his hand, she holds her breath, knowing what will happen next, but before he can land the first blow ~~~

sofia comes, with a lovely trembling orgasm that shakes her whole body.  Ahhhhh.  So much better now.  Yes.

Thank you, Sir.

 

 

 

 

 

All That Was Left…

When it was over – this was all that was left.

Yep, that’s the “little” red ball gag.  It’s not as bad as i thought it was going to be.   Although ~~ when he stuck it in my mouth, and fastened the straps around my head, (after my arms were securely tied,) and said,

“Now.  I’m going to go take a shower.  Don’t go anywhere.”

i tried to protest, but He grinned, “I can’t tell what you’re trying to say with that ball gag in your mouth.  Was that a ‘Yes, Sir?’  No?  Sorry, you’ll have to tell me later.”  And He headed up the stairs.

Leaving me to wonder what was going to happen next.

And later ~ much later ~ there were these.

 

Yep, that’s a thin strip of wood, a little stingy.  The leather belt, folded over ~ my personal favorite.  And the HUGE paddle He made.  All three of those were very effective on my bare bottom sometime later.  But first,

He ties me to a chair.  My arms are suspended from the hooks in the ceiling, which are about 8 feet apart, but with plenty of rope, it’s not too uncomfortable.  You can see – the rope on the right has clasps that he uses to attach them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

So i’m seated on this chair, and He ties my legs to the chair.  Not tying them open, practically tying them closed.  But very securely.  i am not going anywhere.  He puts the ball gag in.  Fastens it.

Then He leaves me to take His shower, and i’m waiting and waiting, and wondering what’s going to happen next ~ He can’t spank me in this position or touch my pussy, which is growing wet from the combination of being restrained and silenced and left to wait and wonder… and He can’t even use my mouth with the gag in it!

So of course, duh, there is only one part of my body left .  He returns ~ unbuttons my white shirt, and exposes my breasts.

He starts with some gentle pinches and tugs at the nipples.  Then the flogger.  Ahhhhh.  It is both stingy and lovely, painful and wonderful.  Mmmmmm.

But then.

Did i tell you He made this thing?  Yeah.  Here it is.

It’s a ~ i think it’s called a pressure pump ~ only He adapted it.  He got it on sale at one of the Dom stores, marked way down, and adapted it for His own nefarious purposes.

The tip ~ this part ~

~ just fits over my slightly elongated nipple, an effect He achieves by tugging on it.  The nipple, that is.  Then He places the opening over the nipple and pumps the gun, watching the pressure gauge carefully.

The pressure increases quickly ~ nothing ~ oh ~ oh, yikes ~ omg, omg!  And then He stops.  Switches to the other one.

Having fully sensitized my nipples, He can lightly flick them, or just breathe on them, and watch me squirm.  He does that for a while.

He removes the ball gag to allow me to tell Him how very much i’d like to be allowed to suck His cock, please, Sir, please.  Which is so true, there is nothing i would like better.

So He unties me, bends me over the back of the couch, and uses the toys of His choice ~ i suppose to make sure i’m tenderized all around?  Then He lets me kneel at His feet and pleasure Him.

When He is done, and i’m hoping for an orgasm of my own, He starts talking about that 87.5% thing, which freaks me out for a minute.  Fortunately, He is kinder than that, and some appropriate begging leads to permission for a lovely, lovely orgasm for me…

So you’ve seen what was left.  All of that, and a lot of lovely memories.    Thank you, Sir.

 

Just for Kicks

i may have actually posted this before, but it makes me giggle every time i see it.

And while i’m here and posting things just for fun, i thought i’d post some champagne and fireworks in honor of Jz’s 5th blog anniversary over at A Reluctant Bitch.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, JZ!!

I really need to talk about this diabolical pump thing that Sir bought, but maybe not today… Today i am wasting spending my time reading ridiculous books (Janet Evanovich) and hanging out on Facebook.  So just to complete the good times, there’s this:

And I had to come back and edit this to say Happy Summer Solstice!!

Glory of the Day-Star, hail!
Lifter of the Light, Burnisher of the Sky.
Gifts of love to earth are bringing,
Summer’s shimmer, dew’s delight.

Dancing be the heart within us,
Open be our souls to bliss,
Courage vanquish every shadow,
Greet Midsummer with a kiss.
– Greeting to the Summer Solstice
from Celtic Devotional – Daily Prayers and Blessings
© Caitlín Matthews

 

Enjoy…

My Little Red… Wagon?

Nope, not wagon.

My little red ball gag.

Make no mistake about it – i have been clear on more than one occasion, that i have no interest in gags.  Not ball gags.

The panties He stuffed in my mouth from time to time were ok, because i didn’t drool with them.  Ball gags make you drool.  i am anti-drooling.  In fact, i may have said it was a limit for me.  Some kind of limit.  Maybe not a hard, hard limit, but a soft hard limit.

When Sir tells me he has bought me a gift, i never know what to expect.  A glass pitcher from Goodwill, a new butter dish, or this pump-it-up suction device that i’ll have to tell you about some (other) time.

So i’m glad i was all warmed up and in the right headspace the other night, when He says, “O, I have a gift for you!!” and He pulls out the little red ball gag.

i make some protest, some whiny “Sirrrrr….” but it’s weak.  And He easily sweeps it aside ~  “No, don’t worry, you’re gonna like this,” adding, as He places the ball in my mouth,  “Or at least I’ll like it.  And that’s what matters, right?”

i’m all limp from spankings and orgasms and such, so even though some little part of my brain is screaming BALL GAG ~ RED ALERT  i can only nod weakly.  Of course, Sir, whatever you say, Sir.

And then there’s a ball gag in my mouth, so i can’t really say much of anything anymore.

O, my.

New Days, New Rules

It started simple.  A new rule around bedtime.   It used to be, i would say i was going to bed, and

~~ Sometimes He’d say, “Ok, go get in bed,” and i’d go brush my teeth and wash my face and jump in bed, and then at some point after that, He’d come tuck me in and tell me good night.

~~ Sometimes, He would ignore my “i’m going to bed” statement and keep talking to me, and we’d chat for a while and then i’d say, “i need to go to bed,” and sometimes he’d say…and sometimes He would ignore… and that could go on for a long time.

Get the picture?

It didn’t actually involve rules at all, it was just that i wouldn’t go to bed until He said “ok.”   i guess i could have, he never said i couldn’t, i just didn’t.

Then it all changed.

One day, out of nowhere, He says, “From now on, you have a rule about bedtime.”

me:  “A rule?  Yes?  What kind of rule?”

Him:  From now on, you need permission to get in bed.  You can get ready for bed any time you want to, but after you’re ready, you have to come ask me for permission to actually get in bed.”

me:  (thoughtfully) Ok.  Sure, i guess i can do that.

Him:  Oh, I KNOW you can do it.  And if I’m not home, you’ll need to text me and get permission.  But here’s the thing.  I might not say yes.  I won’t keep you from going to sleep, but you might have to sleep on the floor until i’m ready for you to get in bed.

me: {with just a touch of hesitation} Okaaaay.  i guess i can do that…

And He takes a step forward, grasps my hair, right at the nape of my neck, He tilts my head back and, smiling that feral, Dom smile, He says, “You guess you can??”

And i’m laughing, because ~ i don’t know why, that’s just what i do sometimes, i’m laughing but i’m saying, “i mean, “YES!  Yes, Sir, that’s what i meant to say, of course i can do it!  Sir.”

He smiles, and lets me go, and i’m grinning, a silly grin.

That’s how our New Days of Kink began.

 

 

 

A Long Time Ago…

A long time ago, or maybe a few weeks ago, I had the most wonderful weekend you can imagine.  It started with picking ‘Nilla up at the airport, and breakfast with friends, and then Fiona joined us at my house, and we went to a music festival and hung out with Sir and had drinks at a bar with fish in it (no kidding) and we laughed and acted silly and listened to music until we’d had enough and then we went home – to my house – and had a lovely dinner (take-out, no time to cook) and lots of chocolate for dessert and sat around and talked and talked – vanilla and kinky all intertwined.

It was So Much Fun.

i already showed you the present that ‘Nilla’s master gave me – the box of half-O’s – and i showed them to Sir, who had never thought of torturing me that way before, but now He does, and seems to be liking it entirely too much.  Only, being Sir, they’re not “half-O’s” and i don’t have to go exactly to the brink of orgasm and stop, no, i have to have 7/8ths of an orgasm.

Yes.  That’s seven-eighths.   At first, He said 90%, and that i could have it any way i wanted ~ that i could have a 10% orgasm 9 times, or a 90% orgasm once, or 2 45%’ers, 3 30% ones, or ~ well, you get the idea.

i was a bit overwhelmed and maybe even baffled by this array of unfortunate choices, so He said, “Oh, no, wait, let me change that, let’s make it 87.5%.”

i said, “WHAT?”

And He said ~ “7/8ths. Think pie cut into 8 pieces, and you get seven of them.  So if you break an orgasm down, divide it into 8 parts ~ 8 parts would be a full orgasm, or 100%, but you only get to have 7 parts of it and then you have to stop.”

Which, i didn’t really need all the math explanation, i can do fractions, so i grin and say, “So, can the 8th part be the after waves, that part after the peak of the orgasm?  Like, can i go ahead and have the orgasm, but then i just don’t relax and let it settle in?”

He says, “Are you being a smart-ass?” in his Serious Dom Voice, and i giggle, and He smacks my ass really hard twice, which gets rid of the giggle, and i say, “Yes, Sir, i guess i was, but i think i’m done with that,” so He spanks me a couple more times for good measure and says, “Seven-eighths.  I hope that’s clear now.”

And i say, “Um, yes Sir.”

But that’s not what i want to tell you about.  i want to tell you about ‘Nilla and Fiona and how much good chemistry there was among us, and how i felt like i knew them as well as i know anyone and we just belonged together.  There could have been some awkwardness, but there just wasn’t.

i love them both.

We had a wonderful day and then Fiona had to leave, in the wee hours of the morn even before i was up, and that’s my only regret, that she couldn’t stay longer.  Really, we were the 3 frigging kinky Musketeers.

Fiona has this wicked sharp sense of humor, and an aura that’s full of sparkle and passion and then ‘Nilla is warm and nurturing until you notice the fire in her, just barely banked, and the edge of her humor too, and omg – they are so much fun.

And we’re sitting around talking, with Sir, who’s having a good time too, and we slide from vanilla to kink and back to vanilla and all shades in between, just talking about stuff.  It was such a treat, i didn’t want it to end.

There are more presents ~  ‘Nilla brings Sir a gift.   Mmmmhmmmm.   Check this out:

Spoons.  They’re wooden spoons.  Big ole thick, mean, evil wooden spoons!   Yes, He has used them.  And yes, they hurt ~ hurt ~ hurt!!

Except sometimes.

Sometimes He uses one on my pussy not too hard, and it just kind of cups me ~ like a warm embrace.  Well, kind of like that anyhow.  Ahhhh.  It’s lovely.

And Fiona, who is the most creative gift giver i’ve ever known, leaves these that morning on her way out the door:

Pretty, right?

Inside was MORE delicious chocolate

 

Yes, that’s our ‘Nilla posing with it.

 

And on top of all that, there were fancy pens and a little booklet of mandalas to color ~ how cool is that??

But the icing on the cake ~ the piece de resistance ~ was the clothespins.  Two packs of them.  Check this out:

 

Not just any clothes pins, but fancy clothes pins, all decorated pretty, two packets.  One little note says:  “For everyday use.”  The other one?  Yeah,  It says “Think Kink.”  With a smiley face.

Is that not awesome?

And then i feel bad ~ a little bit bad ~ because i don’t have gifts for them.  😦  But i decide not to wallow in “O, i’m not a good enough friend,” and just enjoy every minute of the time we have together and appreciate ‘Nilla’s ~ um, i guess thoughtfulness is the right word ~ and Fiona’s wonderful, whimsical, creative style.

Then ‘Nilla and i have two and a half more days that are just packed pretty much to the brim with fun and laughter and interesting conversation and more music and dancing and food and ~~ yeah.  It is too much fun.  i stay up late and get up early cause i don’t want to miss a second of it.

And i was going to blog about it, blog about it all right then, only my life kept going really fast, and faster and faster.  There were more fun things, and then there was some not-so-fun but not-personal drama, and then more fun, and more drama, and ~~ suddenly Sir starts being all kinky all the time and assigning 7/8th orgasms and spankings and more ~~ and it’s all spinning, spinning along, with barely time to absorb it all ~ and no time to process or blog!!

Then i start feeling bad because i didn’t already blog it, and that’s not so much fun either.

But today i’ve taken the whole day to myself, which has been lovely, and at last i’ve had some time to think and remember and let the feelings of joy and belonging and openness that i felt with ‘Nilla and ‘Fiona come flooding back and try to write about it, which ~ i can’t possibly do it justice, but i hope you know and they know that i love them dearly and am sooooo so glad we got to spend time together and we really have to do it again sometime.  Soon.

And sometime, i’ll have to blog about my newly-kinky-again life…