Monthly Archives: August 2014

Strange but True

So here’s an interesting thing.  Since i started doing this physical thing i’m doing, i am much better able to eat mindfully and not eat to manage emotion or just compulsively for no good reason.  i am more aware of when my body is reacting to some kind of shame too, and better able to release it.  How strange is that?

It really seems too good to last, so i am just enjoying it one day at a time. 

While we’re talking body, here are a couple of fun quotes:

“The Church says: the body is a sin.

Science says: the body is a machine.

Advertising says: The body is a business.

The Body says: I am a fiesta.”

~~ Eduardo Galeano, Walking Words

Then there’s this one:

“your body is not a temple, it’s an amusement park. Enjoy the ride.” 

~~ Anthony BourdainKitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly



Body Work

So i’ve been doing some – we’ll call it “body work” – some therapeutic work that focuses on my body rather than my thoughts or feelings.  (No, that’s not a euphemism for some kind of special sex, it really is a form of therapy.)

Anyhow.  i’ve noticed some interesting things.   Part of this bodywork involves doing a series of exercises, and the instructions were that i was not supposed to do anything to the point of pain – in fact, on a scale of 1-10, a ten was the beginning of pain, and i was supposed to keep my comfort level between a 5 and a 7.  So high enough that i could feel some tension, but well short of real discomfort.

i discovered that when i start doing exercise, i “check out” to some extent.  My mind goes somewhere else.  So when she would say, “What level are you at now?” or “Where’s your comfort level?”  i would have to mentally check back in to pay attention to where my level was.  

It is difficult for me to “self-regulate” my body.  i do that pretty well with thoughts and feelings, but tell me to do an exercise until i hit between 5 and 7?  I don’t actually know how to do that.

It occurs to me after the first session that most of the things people tell us to do with our bodies involves pain.  Do you know what i mean?   It was that way for me anyhow, growing up.  Or it seems like it… Even now, i think that maybe 90% of the time, if someone else tells me to do something with my body, it is going to be uncomfortable, unpleasant, or downright painful.  

And that’s what i’m wondering – what is that like for you?  Things i can think of – just about anything at the doctor’s office.  Most exercise regimes, while you’re doing them, if someone else is directing it.  Oh, massage therapy is an exception (yay!!)  i’m not including D/s  sex in this, but often in vanilla sex, in my experience, if someone was directing me, it was often not so pleasant for me as it could have been.  Maybe that’s just me.  But i was ok with that, really, mostly.

i don’t know.  Maybe this is too intimate to talk about here.  But you know, i wonder.

Anyhow.  i think i am going to become lots more in touch my with body as i go along here.  It’s kind of exciting.





i’m going to say a bunch of non-kinky stuff, ok?  Don’t feel like you have to read it.

More and more i become aware of how painfully sensitive i am to feeling like i have NOT done something as well as i theoretically could have.  Still — after years of therapy — giving and receiving – years of study, years of insight, years of frigging working on this same damn issue – and STILL

the least hint of not-good-enough and i’m swamped by feelings of failure, disappointment, disgust – not named like that, but floating around me, threatening to drown me.  Almost like this quote:

He was swimming in a sea of other people’s expectations.  Men had drowned in seas like that.”


Only it’s not other people’s expectations – they are my own.  It is my own moments of panic – my stomach churning –

Good grief.

i know better than this.  Know – have knowledge – in my head.  Which does me no frigging good when it’s my stomach, my heart, even my breath that’s reacting.

It pisses me off though.  Ugh.

But i guess it’s better to know that’s what is happening – better than just reacting to the stomach-churning panic-y feeling.  Right?


Giggles and ‘Gasms

i was delighted that so many of you thought my story yesterday was hot!  i’m afraid that i did too, and after i wrote it, i might have been touching myself a bit, and the next thing i know – boom!  Orgasm!!

Which was good, but not good, because i am supposed to get permission for that.


So i had to confess last night, and Sir was all worn out from work and stressed, and didn’t punish me, just said that my ass would pay later.

So today – i was reading some other people’s blogs and – boom!  It happened again!!  Les orgasm.

i am apparently quite out of control.  


No Kidding

His hand in my hair, right at the nape of my neck.  Firmly enough that my head is tilted back, just a bit.  

“What did you say you wanted?” His voice is stern and He is standing behind me, i can’t see His face.  i giggle – i didn’t mean to, didn’t want to, it just slips out.

“Nothing,” i say, quickly, trying to hide the giggle.  “i don’t want anything – i have every single thing i could possibly want.  Sir.”

He bends His head closer, i can feel His breath on my cheek.  “Oh, that’s funny,” He says, “very odd.”  His voice is silky smooth. “I thought I heard you say you did want something.  Maybe i was hearing things?  Is that what happened?”

And i giggle again, foolishly, helplessly, “No, no Sir, you weren’t hearing things.  No, of course not.  i guess, um yes, i guess i did say i wanted something, but you know, i didn’t mean it!  Not for a second!  i was ~ i was joking, Sir, just kidding!”

He releases my hair,  grabs my arm to turn me so i’m facing Him, “Down,” He says, and i feel myself flush, as i always do when He gives that command.  i obey quickly enough though, dropping to my knees, eyes on the ground. knees open.  Any urge to giggle is gone.

“Let’s try this again,” He says.  “What did you say you wanted?”

Without raising my eyes, i respond slowly, “i said i wanted ~ wanted to see ~ someone do that.  Do this thing they were doing in the movie.  Sir.”

He chuckles.  “That’s closer,” He says.  “But I’d like a bit more clarity.  What were they doing in the movie?”

My mouth is dry, i can barely swallow, i lick my lips, “They were, um, they were piercing this girl.”

“Piercing her?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Were they piercing her ears?”

“No, no Sir, not her ears.”  

“Her nose?  Perhaps they were piercing her nose?”

“No, Sir, not her nose, her ~ well, um they pierced her nipples.”

“Yes.  Yes, slut, they did pierce her nipples.  Show me your nipples.”

That’s easy enough, i am only wearing a robe, we had been relaxing on the couch, watching a movie.  i open the robe so my breasts are exposed.

“Take the whole robe off,” He says, “I want you naked.”  i slide it off my arms, His foot between my thighs encourages me to spread my legs wider.  

“Make your nipples hard,” He says.  Embarrassed,  i flick them lightly with my thumbs, but “Do you need me to do it?” He asks, and i quickly pinch them harder until they are both erect.  i can feel the heat between my thighs, the warmth of my pussy burning.

“Pretty,” He says.  “They would look nice pierced.  I’ve been thinking about that long enough, don’t you think?  I think it’s time to get serous.”

Frightened, i look up ~ i know He means it, He has been talking about it, and i have told Him already that i belong to Him and He can do this, but the butterflies in my stomach are fluttering wildly.  “Sir ~” i say, and i don’t know what i was going to add, because He shakes His head sharply, “Down,” He says, and i lower my eyes, my heart racing now, pussy throbbing.  And i know we are not finished.

“What else did they pierce?” He asks.  “They pierced her nipples, and yes, I am going to have your nipples pierced.  Pinch them again, please, hard.  I want to see them standing up, yes, that’s good.  Now tell me, what else did they pierce?

“Her ~ her pussy, Sir.  They pierced her pussy.”

“They did, didn’t they?  Show me your pussy.”

i started to try to spread my legs wider, but “No, not like that.  Lay on your back, pull your knees back so I can really see you.  Hurry now.”

Humiliated, i obey, slipping my legs out from under me and laying back, pulling my knees up, opening myself to Him.

“Good girl,” He says, pinching and pulling at the outer lips of my pussy.  i am so wet, His fingers are slippery with my juices.  “So let me see if I remember this right.  In the movie, they pierced her pussy, maybe here,” pulling at the lower part of the lip, “or maybe here,” touching the upper part, the hood, “or maybe they pierced her clit, right here,” and as He touches my clit, i rear up, whether to escape or to get closer to his touch even i don’t know.

He smacks me, smacks my pussy hard, and laughs, “Hold still, slut.  We will tie you down tightly when I have you pierced here.  Now, where was I?”  He continues to explore my pussy, caressing, pinching, rubbing as He says, “They had pierced her cunt, and she screamed, and then I said ~ what did I say, slut?”

i can barely breathe, barely talk, but i say, “You said ~ you said ~ maybe you should do that to me, Sir.”

He laughs, “That’s right!  Good girl, that is what I said.  And what did you say?  Do you remember now?”

i say, “Yes, Sir, yes, i do remember, Sir, but – but ~”

“But what?  Do you want me to whip your butt?  What did you say?”  i know He’s enjoying my distress, but i can’t help it.

“i said,  “I wanna see you do that.'”  And i start to giggle ~ i just can’t help it.  “i know, that was what i said, but you KNOW i was being sarcastic, Sir, you know i was!!  i DON’T wanna see you do that!!”

“Maybe it’s not about what you want.”  

“Sir!  That would really hurt!”

“It would.  Yes, I imagine it would.”  He is silent, and I raise my eyes to look at Him, He doesn’t notice because He is looking at my pussy.  As if ~ ~

~ and i lower my eyes quickly.

“Right here, I think,” He says, pinching the lower part of my pussy lip again.  “I would want to be able to attach a chain to it, like in Story of O.”

i don’t dare say anything.

But He asks, “Who do you belong to?”

“You, Sir, i belong to you.”

“And if I want to pierce your cunt?”

“Then ~ then you can, Sir,” i say, and i know that it’s true.

“Look at me,” He says.

When i am looking into His eyes, lost in His eyes, He slides His fingers into my pussy, moves His other hand to fill my asshole as well.  “Whose pussy is this?” He says.

“Yours, Sir.”

“Whose ass is this?”

“Yours, Sir.”

“Who do those breasts belong to?”

“You, Sir,” and looking into His eyes, i know that it is all true, i belong to Him completely.

He smiles, a smile of love and satisfaction.  “Yes.  I’ve already made the appointment for tomorrow.  Rings in your nipples, a ring in your cunt lips.   You’ll be lovely.  Now roll over, head down, ass high, I want to fuck you now.”

A Little Mid-Day Fantasy

They have spread my legs, leaving me exposed, although i do not even know if anyone is paying attention to me.  A hand on each ankle, a hand on each wrist, so i know they are there, but blindfolded as i am, i do not know what else is going on around me.

i can hear whimpers, laughter, an occasional squeal.  Pleasure or pain?  They are too close to tell.

i am reminded of a scene from a – a book?  A movie?  i don’t know anymore.  But there are two women, kneeling over two chairs.  You can see their torso and their faces, but the rest of their bodies are concealed behind a curtain.  They are moaning, each one tossing her head –

and one of them is being whipped, crying out in pain.  The other is being fucked, moaning with pleasure.   You can not tell the difference from the way they look.

But i can tell, when a hand moves across my breast, quickly pinches my nipple, tightly, so tightly, i cry out.  That is pain, and the hand between my leg that penetrates and discovers my wetness, that is pleasure, the mouth on my breast, pleasure, the finger forcing its way into my ass is pain – pain – pleasure – o – pleasure.

i toss my head, but someone holds it still, slips two fingers into my mouth, penetrating my mouth – now all my holes are full, and i cannot make a sound, and it is all pleasure.

In the darkness, beneath my blindfold, i no longer care who is touching, as the fingers stroke me, bringing me closer and closer to the peak of another orgasm, i suck the fingers, striving to please.

i know this may stop, stop at any moment, it may be whips next, striking my breasts, the insides of my thighs, making me scream while He – someone – strokes my face so gently that i want to make love to His hand.

But now the fingers fill me, taking me over the top once again as i shudder with pleasure.

“Say thank you,” He says, removing the fingers and —

“Thank you, Sir,” i say quickly, just as i have said when He whipped me, just as i will say it, whatever He does.

Thank you, Sir.


i feel – out of sorts.  That’s a nice way to put it, right?

i feel fat and ugly and inadequate.  And lonely.

i know, i know, i’m not.  Not alone, not inadequate, not ugly, just a little bit fat.  i know.  What’s your point?

i said i FEEL.  i didn’t say anything about the facts.  So just hush.

Cranky.  i’m cranky too.

Yeah.  That’s all i have to say right now.

Actually though, everything has been pretty ok.  Sometimes real ok.  i mean, i know i’ve been quiet for a long time, but everything’s been ok.

But it’s been a while, you know.  A while since there’s been any D/s or real kink.  No i’m not even getting tied up at night.

It’s our pattern, right?  Some wonderful space and time, and then it goes down, down, down and i don’t’ even notice for a long time because i love him and i’m happy with him.  With Him.

Yeah.  Then suddenly i’m not ok.  i don’t know why.  Maybe it has nothing to do with the reduced kink, right?  i’m still ok with Him, it’s not that.  i’m just out of sorts.

i need to not be mundane.  i need to be spanked, seriously spanked.  i need to be tied up and restrained.  i need to be out of control, under His control, taken and used…

i know.  Ask Him for what you want.  Talk to Him.  i KNOW!!  Maybe i would. He’s not here right now. When He comes home, His son will be with Him

Tomorrow we have more company.  Good company, overnight.  Then Sunday some work to do on the house with someone coming to help.  Then the weekend will be gone.

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday…

Maybe  next weekend.

i know, i’m a spoiled brat, i live with Him, blah,blah,blah…

See, cranky and mean.

And fat.  Did i say fat?


And whiny.  i hate when i’m whiny.