Tag Archives: submission

National Orgasm Day

We missed it. It was Wednesday, July 31.  No, i’m not kidding.

National Orgasm Day.

Although, actually, by a lucky fluke, i had an orgasm or two on Wednesday night.  Daughter and grandchild were out of the house for the night, so some orgasms were had.

We started with some BDSM video clips ~ an easy warm-up after a long day at work when we’re both actually pretty low-energy.  Sir started doing this thing ~ now understand, we just watch the 10 minutes of the video that is free, the intro that’s supposed to make you want to pay for the whole video.  So He picks six or seven clips, and we start watching.

About 2 or 3 minutes into one, he says, “Let’s try another one,” and switches.  If i don’t say anything, we watch the next one.  But if i say, “No, wait a minute, can’t we finish this one, please, Sir?” then He knows He’s hit on one that appeals to me.  Clever man.


After that, there were nipple clamps, and kneeling, and other events which led to orgasms all around, so we did actually celebrate National Orgasm Day.  But since we didn’t realize that’s what we were doing, i think we need to do a belated, official celebration soon.

Did you celebrate?

Doing It Differently

“There is one thing I think I need to do differently,” He says.

i lean forward, fascinated.  “There is?”

“Yes,” He says thoughtfully, nodding, “I’ve been thinking about it, even watched a couple of videos, and I think there’s a change I need to make.”

Keeping my voice soft and low, not wanting to shift the mood, i ask, “What is it?”

“Aftercare!” He says, in the tones of one announcing the discovery of America.  “I need to do more aftercare.”

i’m a little surprised, but pleased.  You know, one’s Dominant wanting to give you more aftercare sounds like a great thing.  i’m still smiling when He says:

“BUT.   I haven’t been doing it because you have’t NEEDED aftercare.  I haven’t given you the kind of stripes that require aftercare.  That’s what I need to do first.  Give you some real serious stripes.”

My smile is weaker.  “O,” i say.  “Serious stripes?”

“Yeah,” complacent now,  “I need to really give you the kind of stripes that, without some aftercare, you’ll still be feeling them 3 or 4 days later.  Then we can do some aftercare.  Don’t you think?”

What can i say?  The tingle in my belly and the heat between my legs suggest it’s still not a bad idea.

“We’ll need to go from about a seven to a nine on the pain scale,” He says, “Really leave some marks.  Then maybe put some ice on them.  That would be good.  Don’t you think so?”

Well.  You know, it wasn’t my first thought when He said He wanted to do more aftercare.  But what can i say?  “Yes,” i say, half-smiling, part-excited, part-resigned,  “Yes, Sir, that sounds right to me.”

Sir Says No

Yesterday, i worked on house stuff all day, which means i did about 20 times more physical labor than i’m used to.  At the end of the day,  i was exhausted.

Sir had been home for a little bit when i finally stumbled upstairs from the basement.  He was about to come downstairs again {we had already done our ‘welcome home’ hugs} but i noticed He was holding a cup of coffee.  It looked lovely.

It smelled lovely.

i say, “Coffee.”

“Yes,” He says.  i’m feeling a bit guilty because He fixed His own coffee, but more than that, i want some.

“You fixed it yourself,” i say.

“Yes,” He says.  “I would have fixed you some, but it’s too late for you to have coffee.  You won’t sleep.”

“But ~ i want some ~ i can fix ~”

“NO,” He says firmly.  “It’s 8:00.  It’s too late for you to have coffee.  You won’t sleep.  Have a glass of wine if you like, but no coffee.”

i wanted to huff, i wanted to protest, i wanted to fix coffee,… but damnit.  He’s right.   O, i would have gone to sleep, but i would have been awake about 2 or 3 a.m., lying there unable to go back to sleep.


Obeying Him in this small thing, particularly since He’s right,  probably seems like no big deal to youall.  But ~ well ~

i guess i must be an unusually stubborn, willful hag most of the time, because i can think of times when i would have said, “Nuh-uh,” and proceeded to fix myself a cup of coffee.   i don’t know if it’s submission or just common sense that allows me to accept His stance.

But in either case, i bite back my defiance and say, “Yes, Sir.”  And sleep til almost 6:30 this morning.


So i don’t know how i became one of those bloggers who doesn’t answer comments.  i never thought that would be me, but here i am.  And i LOVE comments.

Starting today, i’ll do better.  i can’t promise to catch up anytime soon, but i’ll start staying on top of it, instead of feeling guilty about not having already answered older comments…

The Next Thing I Know…

So there i am, on the balcony, feeling just a tad uneasy about the way Sir’s looking at me, just because i said i might be a little bit mean if He wakes me up in the middle of the night.  But He’s shaking His head.

“I don’t think I like the sound of that,” He says.  He gets up and disappears into the room, leaving me even more on edge.

He comes back with a collar.  Um, my collar, i guess ~ the leather training collar.  And for just a second, i think, No, o, no…  But He walks behind me, puts His hands around my neck so He’s cupping my chin, and i feel myself melt in His hands, so when He puts the collar on me, and i feel the leather against my skin as He pulls it taut and buckles it then i have already started slipping…

…. you know how it works….

………sliding down into that space where i just belong to Him, and really what was i thinking ~~

~~ of course it will be ok if He wakes me up later… why would it not be?

And then after the collar He takes each ankle, and buckles on the cuffs, and then the rope around my wrists, and i’m bound, nicely bound.  There is lots of rope left at the end of my wrists, increasing my  awareness of how He has secured me.

He tells me to scoot closer to His chair, and when i am where He wants me, almost touching Him, He lifts my skirt, pushes it up around my waist and begins to play with me.

He plays with me for a while, taking me to the edge a couple of times, before He lets me cum, watching me dispassionately as i go over the top ~ once, twice ~ and then, when i’m all relaxed, “Get ready for bed,” He says.

He tells me again that He’s going to get on-line for a little while and take a shower and He’ll wake me up later.

Obediently, i go brush my teeth and wash my face and get undressed.   i’m very aware of the loose rope attached to my wrists as i move around and when i take my top off i have to pull the rope through the armholes.

When He tucks me in, He ties the ropes on my wrists to the rings on my ankle cuffs.  He leaves the right one pretty loose, so i know i could reach over to untie myself if i had to, but He ties the left one so snugly that when i lie on my side, like i always do, with my legs curled up a bit and my hands under my chin, then the rope on that side is just long enough to reach from ankle to wrist.

But He pushes me onto my back first, makes me open my legs.  Plays with me some more.  After i cum a couple of more times, He kisses me and covers me up.

He tells me to go to sleep, and i do.

When i wake up, i think i’m alone.  i glance at the clock ~ almost 12:30, it was about 9:30 when i went to sleep, i think.  i wonder where He is.  Then i hear the shower running, and i know where He is.

i lie there with my eyes closed, awake, waiting for Him. Wondering what He’ll do when He comes to get me.  Not in an unpleasant way, just waiting to see.

Then He’s there, beside the bed, and i’m waking up for real, the rest of the way.  He pinches my nipples, hard, before He puts the nipple clamps on, tightening each one mercilessly.  Then ~

“Up.”  He says.  “On the floor.”

i can’t stand up, because of the ropes, but He doesn’t want me standing anyhow.

“Crawl,” He says.  “Yes, down on your hands and knees. Crawl.  Come on, this way.”

Obediently, i crawl ~ across the room, out to ~ o, my, out to the balcony. He has a towel on the ground, in front of His chair.  i crawl to the towel, and He brings a pillow for me to kneel on.   Another pillow to put under me, and He lets me fool with it til i’m pretty comfortable.

Then He sits down.  Yes, in front of me.

“Now,” He says, leaning back, “Show me *fellatio*.”

And i do.  Quite happily.


When we’re finished, He puts me back to bed, and i fall asleep curled up with Him behind me.

i almost forget sometimes, forget that He is not just my wonderful, slightly geeky, brilliant, kind, very zen Beloved One.  i almost forget sometimes that He is also this Dominant man who uses me as He sees fit, in His way and His time.

Crawling across the hotel floor, naked, intensely aware of the chain dangling between my nipple clamps, i think, O, yes, here He is, this is Him too.

In the morning, i feel softer, happier, well-loved.  More open.   You know, it’s not like i wasn’t those things before ~ i don’t know ~ youall know what i mean ~ it’s just being in that space completely,  i can feel my submission and His dominance and i can rest safe there.

Thank you, Sir.

So then…

Last night, it was kind of late for me, and i should have already gone to bed, but i didn’t, and then i look over and He’s reading the blog and sort of nodding, and looking at me sideways.   O, dear.

Too late to go to bed now.

“So show me what you’ve got there,” He says, pointing to my handy-dandy new seat.  “How does this work?”

Eagerly, i assemble the yoga blocks and towel.

Confidently, i straddle the mini-tower and settle comfortably onto the seat, looking up at Sir for approval ~

~~ which was NOT forthcoming.

He looks at me like i’ve, um, just crawled out from under a rock.  He shakes His head.

“What?” i ask.  “What’s wrong?”

“No,” says He.  “What is this – this thing you’re doing?”

“It’s my seat!” i say.

“No,” He says, with more head shaking.  “That’s not ~ that’s ~ if you put a dildo on that, it would be a sybian*!”

“Well,” and i start to giggle, “Yes, i guess it would be.  But there no dildo on it, and you said you wanted me to find a comfortable way to do this, and this is it!”

So He’s still shaking His head, but He starts laughing too.  And once He starts, He can’t stop.

In between fits of laughter, He looks at me and shakes His head.  Affectionately, i think.  But still.

When He’s able to quit laughing, we have a little argument discussion.  i try to explain why this is the only thing that works.  He doesn’t get it agree.

He says i’m not even sitting, i’m astride it.  i try to get on-line and prove that “straddling something” is still “sitting.”  i’m not very successful.

We talk some more.

He looks some stuff up on-line and makes me try some other ways of sitting.  i explain why they don’t work.

He says He guesses He’ll have to make me a seiza specially designed for me.   i’m concerned because i’m not positive the seiza will work the way i think it will.  i really don’t want Him to make it and not have it work.

Today, i think i can do some more research first and try some other things too.  Back to the drawing board…

{Btw, thanks, Sfp, for the link to The Count ~ Sir thought that was very funny.}

*  Here’s a sybian:


MORE on sitting

i know you won’t believe this, but i have still not been practicing sitting.

Did i think He was going to forget?  Am i testing the limits to see what He’ll do if i don’t obey?

i don’t know!  (Read that with a bit of a wail and a moan thrown into it, ok?)  i don’t knooooow what’s wrong with me!

So last night he asks me how my practice is going, and have i found the most comfortable way to use pillows to sit on the floor.

i giggle.

It’s not a great beginning, but He’s patient.  He asks more questions about it.  Talks about why it’s important to do.

He explains that He doesn’t want to make an expensive stool or buy anything unless He needs to.  He wants me to try with the pillows we have first.  Even try a towel rolled up if i need to.

i giggle.  i don’t want to, i just can’t seem to help it.  “Like a kinky DIY thing?” i say.  He agrees, it is just like that.

He is not amused.

He asks me if i appreciate the chair i’m sitting in.

i say i do.

Leaning forward, He asks, “Can you imagine what it would be like if you couldn’t sit on any of the furniture?  No office chairs, kitchen chairs, lawn chairs, no couches…”

i say “O,” and for a second, i have a flash of being allowed to sit only on the floor.  My pussy throbs.   i don’t feel so much like giggling.

He says, “If it were me, if I thought I might be in a situation where I wasn’t allowed to sit on the furniture, I would want to have found the best way to sit on the floor.  I’d want to know what combination of pillows made me the most comfortable.”

“Yes, Sir,” i say, and He really does have my attention now.

He points out that when people are serious about doing something, when they have a goal, it comes with a time frame.  He wants to know my timeframe for the pillow sitting practice.

i don’t know.

He says that on Tuesday, at some point on Tuesday, i can expect to lose the right to sit on furniture for a while.  For a few hours.  He says it might be helpful for me to have practiced by then.

i’m sure it will be.  i hope i’ll be ready.

Then He asks me what University Bullwinkle attended.

No i’m not kidding.  That’s what He wants to know next.  You know, Rocky and Bullwinkle ~ the old cartoon?  What university did Bullwinkle attend?

i have no idea.

Well, i do now, but i didn’t then.

So He takes me in the bedroom and bends me over the bed.  Panties down.  He spanks me soundly, with the belt i love and the little strip of wood that leaves some nice marks for a minute.  That’s to help me remember.

Wossamotta U.  That’s where Bullwinkle went.  {i had to google it to spell it, it sounds like ‘whatsamatter U’ – but you probably already knew that.}

No, Sir, i won’t ever forget that now.

After He makes sure my ass is red and stingy, He puts the nipple clamps on my tender nipples.  He fucks me, and makes me cum, over and over, before He uses me for His own pleasure.

When He’s finished, i can barely move, i’m so relaxed and happy.  He ties me securely by the ankle, as He always does, and lets me fall asleep on His side of the bed.

i wake up this morning feeling like Scarlett O’Hara the morning after with Rhett.  Well, except my ass is still a bit tingly.   But i’m almost purring happy.

Now, the big question is, will this motivate me?  Will i actually practice?  i think i will… i hope i do!  Or maybe i will end up testing His limits all the way to the end…  i hope i don’t do that!

How It Works

i don’t get how it works for real.  But i know this ~

Yesterday, i was a bit overwhelmed with sadness ~ too many bad things happening to people ~ people i know, people i don’t know ~ things that were painful, not fair, not right.  By last night, i was just a bit overwhelmed.

Apparently, i have a saturation point.  It’s as if i can absorb “x” amount of pain and sadness, but after that certain point, anything that’s the least bit sad just seems overwhelmingly painful.

This is a revelation in itself ~ the recognition that the reason i react strongly to things that might seem small when i’m trying to absorb too much pain and loss and grief and injustice and… yeah.  All that.

When Sir puts me to bed last night, i tell Him about it.

He strokes me a bit, after He encircles my right ankle with rope and binds me securely for the night.  His caress is firm.  He takes both my wrists in one hand, holding them together, and runs His other hand down my body.

Then there are spanks ~ quick, stinging, He watches my ass turn pink.  Just one cheek, the one that’s most convenient for Him.  i know, even spanks on alternate cheeks would be nice, but i’ve learned that i usually regret asking for that.

Then He’s done, He pulls the covers over me and kisses me.  i feel better.  Lots better.

i don’t understand how that works.  i just know it does.

Thank you, Sir.