Sunday, February 26, 2012

it tastes like a woman

The ever interesting FD has been having a little discussion lately sparked by Kitty on the topic "Australian kisses", like french kisses but down under! :)

The discussion took the inevitable turn, do we girls like it? Do we like the taste, tasting ourselves? and today...Does He like the taste, the scent?

My comment started turning into essays and thoughts free-ranging through my head. Hmm perhaps a blogspot FD.

As fate would have it after commenting on FD's first Australian kisses post, I was subject to the most adorable, hot, sensual and wet down under kiss. Curious me, I asked 'Do you like the taste?' He smiled and nodded. I asked him why...

'It tastes like a woman.'

Well! Excuse me for adoring him. I think that might be the best, sexiest, most melting moment answer I have ever heard. It was an answer so completely uncontrived, so completely spontaneous I felt my nipples harden and my pussy clench.

I will admit to being surprised at some of the comments and opinions around this. I am naive I think. I assumed that most people on the TTWD path engaged freely and happily in all things oral. There is much emphasis on cock sucking, nibbling, worshipping. It is a central theme in all things TTWD. It is viewed as virtuous for a slut to be on her knees with a throat full of her Master / Daddy / Sir's cock. Turn the tables and it seems that some she's don't need or even want the same.

This confuses me, though it does tell me that there is not a clear formula for behaviour in TTWD / BDSM. The confusion for me comes because TTWD / BDSM has given me a freedom in my sexuality. I do remember a few years ago pushing P away when he wanted to do the Australian Kiss. I tolerated it, but didn't enjoy it. My mind was filled with worries about the smell and the taste, was I clean for him?  TTWD has given me the freedom to let go, the freedom to enjoy, the freedom to taste like a woman.

artist unknown

Friday, February 24, 2012

the phonecall

Her phone rang, she glanced quickly at the screen, distracted from the pretty sparkly things she was looking at in the shop. She saw his name and struggling coordinate her fingers and shopping packages she dropped the phone. He was gone.


Sorry, I missed your call. Dropped the phone. She sent the text.


She didn't know him well. They had been talking online for only a short while but just long enough for her to have asked him for his number. They had talked a couple of times, awkwardly. She was so much more comfortable with the computer screen. She could say almost anything in text, she could even type that word the word that she still found difficult to say. Her tongue always let her down. Her eloquence was lost when she needed to hide her shyness.


There was no reply, no matter how hard she stared at the little screen in her hand. Feeling the disappointment deeply she sighed and went on with her shopping.


In a few minutes the phone in her pocket vibrated against her pelvic hip. Her body tingled with a visceral excitement emanating from her iliac fossa.


Take your panties off. Leave them off for the rest of the day.


She looked around for the nearest ladies room and found it straight across from where she stood. As she entered the bathroom the phone rang. She was breathless as she put it to her ear.


"Have you removed your panties?"


"I am going into the toilet cubicle now."


"Hurry up, you have kept me waiting long enough girl."


She hurried into the next available cubicle and slipped the panties down all the while describing her activity to the phone.


"Now! Put your fingers in that little wet cunt."


He could hear the gasp telling him she had penetrated herself, violated her wetness on his instruction. It had been hard work to get her here, but he knew she would be worth it. He could hear it in her breath, in the way she immediately did the things he asked. She followed instructions to the letter and he was very prescriptive. So far she had not failed him.


"Rub your clit."


She rubbed. She heard the noises of women coming and going to the cubicles either side of her. Noises echoed from the hand dryers blowing, the flushing of the toilets, heels clicking loudly on the tiles. She tried to be so quiet, even with all this noise and so many women in the bathroom she was sure she might be heard. Heard acknowledging his instructions. Heard in the little gasps and moans she tried to muffle.


"Bring yourself to the edge."


She realise that the shadow of her motion was falling under the door of the cubicle. She pushed herself futher into the back corner of the cubicle, arranging her feet so they could not be seen from the cubicles either side of hers.


"Tell me when you are going to cum."


She told him of all the people, she was concerned they knew. She could not concentrate.


"I don't care, do what you are told, do what you need girl."


She came closer still, her breath ragged, tiny beads of sweat on her face. It was hard standing up..but she came closer, so close she thought she would cum.


"Yes, I am going to cum."


"STOP!"


What!


"STOP! don't you cum. Take your fingers away. STOP!"


"Noooooo," she almost shouted into the phone.


She pulled her hand away as her eyes watered and she tried to stop everything that was wound up inside her. Everything that was throbbing. Everything that was breathless and dizzy and moaning.


"Now, go and find somewhere private, let me know when you are there."


She drove more quickly than she thought she should. She exceeded the speed limit. She needed to get home. That's where she needed to be. Home on the bed, naked,  phone in hand. Made to do whatever he wanted. Made to do what she needed.


artist unknown

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Sunday, February 19, 2012

slick

'Place your hands on the table,

Palms down,

feet flat on the floor,

Back straight.'

His words, she'd heard them so often that they resonated now in her minds eye, part of a natural order.

They sent a thrill to her core, through her spine.

In moments alone, just like this she sat.

Erect.

Waiting.

Anticipating his touch.

To trace her breast,

her neck.

To brush her cheek.

To penetrate her cunt, slick and hot.

artist unknown

Thursday, February 16, 2012

look Daddy, no hands!



When Hands are out of the question, out of the equation, ther is nothing better.
Behind my back, above my head, wrists crossed, held tight in his large hand.

cuffed,

restrained,

tied,

strapped,

trussed,

fastened,

bound,

held.


Magical words ring in my mind and make me weak at the knees.
Why?

Because...

Control,

Dominance,

Mastery,

Ascendancy,

Command.

Elegant in it's simplicity, in it's clarity.

"...never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee." - John Donne



Friday, February 10, 2012

get smart - the chaos of control

Life is too busy filled with flotsam and jetsam. Life is a pedantic beast that swivels and swerves in its own direction. There is no controlling it, this runaway thing called life (apologies to Dom/mes everywhere).


My work is about control. It is about assessing, planning, implementing, and evaluating and then starting again. It used to be about control in the midst of chaos, in the throws of Emergency, where these things still happened but at a speed of light. Each stage of this seemingly sectioned cycle where squashed together in more of a multidimensional and distorted Venn diagram all controlling the outcomes of things that went wrong. I operated on the edge, always filled with adrenaline and my mind moved at a rate of knots making decisions which would control the effectiveness those outcomes.


I think in my weaker moments that I 'burned out', but I didn't really, I just recognised the unsustainable nature of the work I loved and moved into a different type of control. I noticed in this new world people still fought the good fight and played their role as if life and death were dependant on it. I'd giggle and say ..'Nobody's going to die today'. Not that it was unimportant work, but the outcomes demanded were not of an immediate nature.


We make our own chaos. I am guilty of this. It's one of the things about me that annoys me the most. Maybe this is why I need to submit. I need to give control to someone else. It is a relief. To ask them to make the decision for me. To scare the panties off me! There was only once or twice I remember being truly scared in my old role. I was scared for others, but never for myself. In giving my control to someone else, I become nervous for myself and I love that feeling. Maybe I like the adrenaline rush from it. I don't like to say no and in fact rarely do I  say no. That is probably more down to the skill of the Dom in judging me than to my reticence to say no. 


Is this why control is so appealing? Appealing to some to be the controller and to others to let go and feel the control wash over us. Things become terribly simple when there are few or no decisions to be made. When I respond only to his (or her) expressed desire or need that is when I feel my happiness and my contentedness. That is when I feel accepted for who I am and what I am. That is where the calm water can be found.

artist unknown: sourced from tumbler

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Fasten your selt belts. It's going to be a bumpy night

Sometime ago one of my fellow bloggers and I'm sorry to not remember which one, wrote about the 'oh shit!' moment. That moment when it dawns that you have entered a situation that you dreamed about, fantasised about, encouraged and even asked for, maybe even begged for (I have been known to beg :)). Well it dawns on me the situation is upon me, there's no turning back, there's only forward, one way, no U turn. It dawns on a girl that in taking that direction she'd better fasten her seat belt.

I had that moment this morning. I woke early determined to go and do some exercise, checked my email, and there was a message. It was from the bad man, my addiction. Most unusual, he has never emailed before and certainly not with an instruction, a demand. I could feel the earth shift beneath my feet as I saw our interaction with each other shift into a new dimension...I could get a little too used to this, though I suspect it won't be for long. A small vacation which I am going on.


But there was the 'oh shit' moment. He said he was nasty, he said he would push..I don't think I quite believed him, but I am hopping on the train. The fast thundering train and hoping like hell I don't fall off.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

He's back

He's back!
That one who was always under my skin.

Like an old friend ..or a bad penny, and He is Bad. I don't think  I appreciate even now just quite how bad he is. 

He drifts in and out of my virtual world, but for now he is back. For a few days, a few weeks..Never for long, but I do enjoy it when he's back.

He knew me before I knew myself. He pushes me to places I have never gone.

Flex is bigger and badder than before and he's back.