Sunday, February 27, 2011

A hot night, a wet pussy, a little nervous...

No panties on friday night as you desired.

I met my husband at a restaurant before a show and the table at which they had him seated was high up off the street. It was on the edge of the platform where the attentive waiters had pulled back the folding glass doors as they do in summer. Most summer dining is al fresco and as I sat down it was clear that it was going to be an uncomfortable dinner.

My chair faced the street and other tables where the people seated and those walking past, should they turn their heads, had a direct line of vision under our table and up my skirt. I bound my ankles together like a woman in the 1950's, inched my skirt down as far as I could, trying to stretch the material past its natural shape. It was a close fitting skirt that only just reached my knee when I was standing, so rode up naturally when I sat down.

My thoughts went to Daddy. 'I think Daddy will like this...trying to hide my wet glistening pussy from all of the town's dinner set on one of the busiest nights of the week'.

I told my husband I wasn't wearing any panties..which he appreciated..but he is very conservative and no matter how much I encouraged him, he would not touch me in public. In fact he told me quietly, but sternly, to 'put your legs together!'

I think you might have touched me Daddy, had you been there. I was very wet, it was hot, still 30 degrees, I was glowing with sweat...and thinking of Daddy.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

masturbation & my addiction


Prayer, 1930,  Man Ray

I returned from tea with a friend, logged on and there it was, something I had not seen before, something from him, that addiction in my psyche. The one that had wriggled under my skin and continues to tickle no matter for how long he disappears.

There was this *kiss*, he had left after I logged off. At that quite unsual message from him, I rose immediately in an endeavour to achieve what he had asked me to do. I was to go to the bathroom and cum, with him in my head, fucking my mind just as he always does and then to report back to him, so at my first opportunity here I am.

The click of the lock on the bathroom door echoed on the cold tiles. I squatted, my little bullet I had grabbed immediately moving to my clit. My little pink bullet can make me cum in double time and i didn't have long. My husband would be home in 10 minutes, maybe less. The heat in me began to rise, flowing from my clit to my toes. I had not felt this feeling with anything else. The bullet hit the proverbial spot and I drank up the feeling. My mind drifted to the urgency with which I had to complete my task and as I tried to listen for the car I let go that feeling building!

I stood, the feeling, the heat, the wetness returned. I pushed my husband from my mind and pulled my addiction to me. I drew him into my mind where he bent me, forced his fingers into me and fucked my dripping wet cunt. I was breathless, hot and needy. Needy for my addiction. In a flash of white heat I felt myself cumming hard, I could feel my cum sqirting. Sometimes when this happens, I am so surprised by it, I want to stop it, but today I did not. I wanted to squirt for my addiction. I wanted to be sodden for him as he invaded my head. Tippy toes, cumming, eyes closed and squirting on the floor. I wished he were in this small cold room, fucking me, hard, hot and roughly.

Exhausted, panting, on my knees. Mopping the floor, quickly, my husband pulling into the drive..I laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of my addiction. I won't give it up though, this addiction. It will live in my psyche when I am old.

Friday, February 18, 2011

good girl whore

just some thoughts... an an excuse to show my favourite picture!

I am on the stepper at the gym and this is where I have time to do some thinking.

My mind of course turns to being a whore, a slut. Two of my most favoured words. I began to think about how much of a whore I could possibly be if whoring to only one man.

The free association of thoughts as beads of sweat slid down between my breasts. A whore is paid for service. A whore gives herself to many men, or women for recompense. While I don't pretend to understand the inner world of the whore belonging to that wonderful age old profession, I did start to think about the contradiction of the woman submissive, slave, pet, bitch (insert your favoured word here). Often, I have noted, one of the rules that submissive women (girls some like to say) are given, is that they cannot liaise with other men, Dominant men, in a sexually explicit way (though I recognise that some may be shared by there Dominant partner with others). A woman cannot have two Master's. On the surface, to me, this seems a fabulously vanilla concept and a contradiction to the purest meaning of the word whore.

We could consider then that a submissive woman declaring she is a whore to her Sir, Master, Daddy (insert favoured term here), or being declared a whore by him, is in no way a whore, but simply living the fantasy of being a whore.

For me Whoring isn't embodied in the act of submission or tantalising kinky sex acts. Whoring is borne in how a woman makes herself available to many (not that there's anything wrong with that!). Or is a whore the opposite in sexual behaviour from what is considered acceptable behaviour of a 'good girl'? The dichotomy of the whore - good girl is in me. I am polarised, and whoring is the fantasy that keeps the good girl in me alive. I strive to hear those words "good girl". They make me warm and fuzzy and tingly. How do I achieve this status? By being a whore, a slut, a bitch. By being his little bitch, I am his "good girl". 

LOL go figure!

Thursday, February 17, 2011

drifting & connecting

A newer connection is taking up some time.

My husband / partner  / lover have drifted lately. Drifting in the opposite direction. Life has become hectic. Work and family commitments draining both of us. I have allowed my head to be turned to another's attention. A connection only online but this is probably the most dangerous liaison I have ever allowed into my little world. A man in the same country, albeit another city. A man who can reach me.

I have been careful to not make connections that have any chance of becoming a threat to my 'real' offline relationship. While I wait for my love to discover me, to come on this journey with me, to lead me, the need in me grows exponentially. The ache becomes a need. Time ticks slowly when that need is not fed. So in weakness I allow another to take me on a journey and what an interesting journey it is! There's those 'hell's bell's' moments...what the *&%#@ am I getting myself into? But its like a car crash where I can't look away.  

Monday, February 14, 2011

submissive type test - a longitudinal gap ananlysis

A bit of fun..I repeated the submissive type test (the result from July 2010 are below these) not sure I agree with any of the results though having carefully read the results of the second maybe they are a little more accurate..I have just never defined myself with the word slave, it seems more committed than I feel, but we all grow don't we!

Your result for The submissive type Test ...

Slave

You scored 50% Humiliation, 53% Submissiveness, 75% Service, and 46% Pain!


You're the slave, (LOL). You scored high in both submissiveness and service, you probably want to be owned by someone, you feel the need to relinquish your power over to someone else and to service him. You are the ideal partner for 24/7 Owner/slave relationships, whether you like or dislike pain is a matter of taste, hence with humiliation, but I would bet that the chances are you enjoy them sometimes but the most important thing is whether your Dom will enjoy doing those things to you.



And in July 2010....

Your result for The submissive type Test ...

Kinky Submissive

You scored 30% Humiliation, 43% Submissiveness, 43% Service, and 62% Pain!


You're the kinky submissive, you scored relatively low in both submissiveness and service meaning you scored high on either pain or humiliation. You're into bdsm for either the pain or the humiliation, or both! You don't value highly the need to service a Dom or the need to feel conrolled, what you want is either a scene with pain in it, or humiliation, either way you'd probably be more comfortable in a relationship with a Dom in which you meet for the scene, and no very long term scenes. Also scening with your vanilla partner is a valid option, you could have alot of fun that way, more than the regular sex. You're just kinky :)

Growing slowly through spank

A weekend away is just what we needed. It was this weekend just passed that my husband became more attached to the art of spanking.

I have been on a low really, losing hope that he will delight in this new world. I was becoming convinced he sees it as another of my 'phases'. In fact I have questioned this myself. I am guilty of being inconstant in some areas of life, usually harmless things like furniture fashion and dress. It's for this reason I don't allow myself to spend huge sums of money on desirable objects. 

On Saturday however he summoned me to him. On the the bed he had layed out some toys that I had earlier packed in haste (and in hope) for our weekend away. Leather wrist and ankle restraints with the dangling, bright, metal hardware, always my favourite. Vibrators (all four in fact)! I had grabbed the vibrator bag with ALL the vibrators. The black leather flogger lay taunting me and also present in the neat line was the book I had been reading. It was an ordinary paperback..but it's title, Shiver, certainly sent one through me. He told me to undress and placing his hand on the back of my neck bent me forward over the end of the bed. I bent, resting my elbows and forearms on the pink duna quilt and admired the ocean view through the huge ceiling to floor window. We had taken a house on the beach and left the semblance of family behind...alone, he began to take advantage.

I was surprised, to say the least, when the first blow landed. It was hard! It was delivered with surety and vigour. It was delivered with my book!! It felt fantastic and propelled me forward almost to lay me outstretched on the bed. The blows continued rhythmically and were surprisingly confident under his hand. I had not felt that level of confidence from him before. I did yelp a bit. He did not start off low and slow, he got right to it. Up and down my bottom with that book. Alternating with his hand which smoothed and soothed over the stinging redness. I turned to look over my shoulder, in awe and saw also how completely aroused he was. "I love this beautiful red glowing skin," he said not looking up from his view of my bottom.

He was experimenting with timings and strength, with position. His blows went for a longer time than he had ever spent. He put my book down eventually and picked up the flogger. What a different sensation that stung my bottom now. I had enjoyed Shiver. It connected with my bottom and sent the force of the blow rippling in waves through my pussy and then my body. Is this perhaps what a paddle feels like...hmmm we will have to invest! The flogger stung, especially on already reddened skin. It was a only a short time before he returned to Shiver. I was thankful, I really have discovered a shape I like. It is only a paperback though...I can't imagine how something harder might feel..but with my husbands delight in the discovery he had made the other day, I hope it won't be long before I find out!

Friday, February 11, 2011

face slapping

A Kind Dom raised the question in his most recent post about face slapping. I love reading, it provokes such personal questions for me. I enjoyed reading the comment opinions of others and how they feel about face slapping. Opinion overall was heavily weighted on the face slap as an intensely personal experience and for a cheek to be offered and turned only to a deeply trusted individual.


I probably share this opinion. My memory wanders back to an old TV episode of M.A.S.H. The wonderful black comedy film made popular by a ten or so year run on the small screen and repeated ad nauseum in the following 30 yrs. In a comic moment two of the most comical characters, Major Frank "ferret face" Burns and Major Margaret "hot lips" Houlahan  (hmmm I am surprised I remember this in such detail..what was I doing in the 70's, clearly not drugs!). Anyway I digress. In one of their on again off again moments, Margaret, laying on her army cot as Frank leaned pleadingly over her, was complaining about Frank's long steady loyalty and his wife('s position and money). At one point Margaret slapped Frank on his cheek and in split second of reactionary and non-thinking timing, Frank returned by slapping Margaret sharply on her cheek. Margaret gasped, then delightedly, her eyes went wide, an excited look came over her face as she exclaimed breathlessly "oh Frank" and they fell into an excited and frenetic embrace. Your guess is as good as mine regarding what happened next..a family friendly time slot demanded a fade to black.


Of course this is a comical moment but one that describes just a little of the range of emotions I feel when my face is slapped. Like the majority of comment in the original post, I agree that the act is intensely personal for me. I am not sure that I could accept it easily from a man not completely and deeply trusted.


I cannot understate though how much I love the face slap. What a way to get my attention, to bring waves of vulnerability rushing though my mind and body. It has an immediate effect, tears well in my eyes but I crave more. The emotional aspects of the face slap are what i seek in this whole experience..hmm i wonder what Freud would make of that one. Some rubbish about masochism and inverted sadism I suspect.


Anyway, the face slap, I love it but it does require skill. I am not fond of the bone shattering slap. The slap that connects far too much with bone and rumbles through my head almost threatening the integrity of the nearest zygomatic bone. The inverse proportions in the size of his hand to the size of my face make this skill necessary to prevent really injury. He never plays very hard with my face though (and not nearly enough).

It remains a fact..I love the face slap.

Monday, February 7, 2011

the fraudulent submissive?

Little one, confusion reigns supreme in my head. The shadow of submission always hanging over me but its potential never quite fulfilled. No where near fulfilled I think.

An early developing online encounter takes energy and extra time. I try but something is always missing in me. I need the physicality of his touch but to step outside my real relationship is something I have not been able to do. I find it so terribly difficult to be any other way with my partner and as we did not start in the way of ttwd and it is increasingly hard to explain to him what it is I desire and hope for. He and I had made some sort of commitment together and it is not the way of ttwd. 

I lay in bed and wonder whether this is a passing phase for me. In weak moments I feel insincere and fraudulent. I will submit on my terms. Hmmm, I think perhaps I am not who I wish to be. Perhaps I am too hard on myself though.

My beginnings with an online Dom man are nice, but make me nervous. I want to jump to Z but am truly only ready for A and a bit of B. I need a touch, I need a firm hand. I want his hand on the back of my neck...

My husband can calm me from a tantrum in one move. He places his hand on the back of my neck, he squeezes and in an instant I go quiet. He pulls me into his chest where I melt. All frustrations fall away. My vanilla husband, guides, demands that I am quiet, in that action. It is only a small thing, but in this moment I feel my submission. I can be bellowing like a banshee and in an instant with his hand on my neck and the downward pressure to quiet me, I am calmed and in love.

Deep down though, what I wonder is, am I being fraudulent, am I being authentic in discovering submission, am I being truthful. The distress at these questions is undeniable. Will the Dom man I am beginning to know be able to reveal that for me. Will my submission shift to being on his terms...not mine. It remains plain though, I need his touch.

I wonder if this is a problem to others, reading blogs and thinking "do I really belong here?" 

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Thought for my day

"You know what you need to know, I am your Daddy and you have relinquished control to me. I will ensure that your needs are met and you will do as Daddy asks."

This sentence makes me breathlessly hot, pulse race, pussy moist and calms my self doubt.