Saturday, October 27, 2012

spanked on sunday afternoon

He folded her legs back over her shoulders. He raised his arm and with the flogger travelling behind the forward motion of the stroke she waited only a second for the connection of leather on her already reddened cheeks, on her thighs. The lengths of hard leather connected with her soft pink skin. The slickness growing with each stroke.

She laughed with delight at the sting on her skin.

She felt the relief wash over her.

Her Non-Dom hub had not raised his hand to her in months. Now in the warm afternoon sun of their bedroom he made her hot, wanton and lust filled before he fucked her.

Her husbands hand guiding the the leather

laughing at the deliciousness of the sting.

She could breathe again. Her body propelled forward, her breast bouncing, swaying. Her nipples hard and tortured.

photographer unknown. Sourced from the interweb

Friday, October 26, 2012

need, desire, trust

There is a feeling growing in me that I want and need to give Local D everything of me. There is also a feeling of frustration at my inability to do so. I am just not brave enough to go against what Non-Dom expects and trusts me to do. I am not brave enough to go against what Non-Dom and I have agreed and the terms under which he is allowing me to see D. I am embarrassed to say what I want. But there is a feeling growing in me that D is not getting what he may need from me though he denies this. I have never met such a patient man. So much self-control. I have begged him, in the heat of the moment for things he and I have not agreed upon. I have pushed my face so hard into his groin in absolute unadulterated need, lust and want.
He has never even come close to answering my begging. He says it will never happen unless we have revisited our agreement. In that way he exhibits the highest sense of integrity. When I started this journey some three or so years ago, the first thing I thought I learned was about the nature of male sexuality. I embraced it, loved it and finally felt I understood it. I came to the conclusion that men were purely sexual beings. But the one thing I didn't understand is a man's ability of self control. I don't know if all men have this in them, but Local D has always impressed me with his, at least once I came to recognise it. It took me a while to understand this fundamental sense of self control was present in him. I guess I feel in the moment I can safely beg him to do things to me, and I do mean beg, forbidden by our agreement knowing that part of my brain is thinking, 'no no no ...I'm not allowed to do it'. In that moment I feel safe in the knowledge that he is strong enough for both of us, not to cross that line.
I really wish I wasn't a woman who cared about Non-Dom's wishes and I could do these things. I have never been a prude. But when it come to these things, I feel an overwhelmingly dramatic sense of guilt underpinned by my commitment to Non-Dom. I hate that.
I read a woman's blog here in blog land. She is amazingly like me. I have read her from her first post. Her career path, her life path: I swear we have been separated at birth. One difference? She does not appear to be having much sex with her hub (I think) and she IS having amazing all-in sex with her Dom she found about 6 months ago. I envy her that.
Non-Dom trusts me. Trust has been a shaky piece of ground over the last few years. We have worked hard to trust each other again. I don't think it will ever be blind trust like I had before, but there is trust again. I love him and as much as there are gaping holes in my fulfilment, the love is the thing that encourages me not to break the trust. I have already skirted the boundary and dipped my toe on the other side. Non-Dom would not approve at all of what I have allowed with Local D.
photographer unknown. Source: Internet

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

phone call control

He called this morning.

I had been given a lovely task.
Today I was to cum 8 times with the aid of Mr Buzzy. Just when I was feeling all disconnected and Loosey Goosey-like.

I made it to 5 quite quickly and easily.
On my knees, Mr Buzzy doing his magic.
A text sent to the Outback told him:
One, Good morning Sir.
Two, an early start.
Three, quiet and gentle,
Four, loud and proud,
Five, hot on the heels of four and a little tired.
The next text to the Outback reported I was resting comfortably.

The phone rang. I looked on the caller ID to see with some glee that it was Him.

'Hello Sir!' in my happiest excited voice.

'Put the nipple clamps on and cum three more times. Now.'

The eighth had barely subsided when he demanded another.
I heard myself  beg him in a breathless sweaty voice, 'No, please, I can't.'
He is fond of saying, 'I don't care, DO IT!'
So again another one. Number 10 rolled in behind that...then he wanted one more!!!
I called him an unflattering name secure in the knowledge that he couldn't reach my arse from where he was. I will no doubt pay for my expletive when he returns. I may be lucky though. He may forget...or not ;).

'Put Mr Buzzy away now and don't touch it, or yourself ,until Friday. We may do this again if I decide you deserve it."

The nipple clamps had to stay on for another 15 minutes though he threatened to lengthen this if I gave him any more attitude. We talked while I waited the 15 minutes. The whip he was searching for, the length and shape he wanted. I asked him if I could request something. He has never denied me, not really, but maybe that's the kinky bitch in me needing everything he encourages me to need. I asked him if he would clamp my clit. 'Of course!' he said 'Good Girl' (oh heavenly words). I have never asked him for anything directly. I have hinted either by action or in word, but never really asked directly for him to hurt me, *do* things to me. His enthusiastic reply made me backtrack a little. He won't allow that. Once it is said, once the desire is made explicit, the need known, he will move all obstacles to *make it so number one*.


My left nipple cried in pain.

At the fifteen minute mark to the second according to his watch, which seemed a lot slower than the clock I was watching, he told me to take the clamps off my nipples.

'Right first.'



I really hurt!


All in all though, an erotic start to my day.

photographer unknown. Source: internet

Sunday, October 21, 2012

adrift without a D to my s

I have been thinking after a quick read over on Vesta's blog and her post 'home coming'. It occurs to me that with Local D away and I am feeling a little homeless.  A little lost disjointed and disconnected. I am achy and pouty and bloody needy tonight. I feel a sense of displacement. There is no comfortable peace, just the frustration of waiting and wanting for a place to rest. 

The greedy lil girl can't take phone calls easily and Local D's work commitments means he is not readily contactable, although if I text he does text back within a few hours (not terrific when one is seeking permission to cum!). He is in such remote locations that he hasn't even got internet access!! there's my first world problem for today.

Non-Dom asked if Local D had gone away. I nodded and said I was a little stir crazy. I said I was missing the kiss of the flogger, the sting of his hand. To his credit, Non-Dom held me by the throat and kissed me hard..bringing a smile to the girls face and to a some degree bringing me home.

unknown photographer. Source: Internet

Friday, October 19, 2012

first meeting - written assignment

She was very nervous, excited and ready.

He lived so far away she guessed they would never meet. They had corresponded through the miles and over the last year. It began innocently enough. He contacted her with some innocent comment never meant to be anymore than a simple exchange that would be lost in time between them. She was taken with his openness and was humbled that He showed so much trust in her, so fundamentally at such an early juncture. It took her longer to give her trust entirely but now as she travelled to meet Him for the very first time she could think of nothing but giving everything to Him. Anything that he asked of her was His to have. She was His, body, mind and spirit.

He had travelled to her city for some business or another, but in that time He was making a weekend available for her. He had rented a small house on the beach in the south of her life in town. When she arrived He would be there. She imagined walking through door to finally meet the man she had come to know in every way but touch. She ached to know Him, please Him.

She arrived at the door and knocked lightly, suddenly nervous that she was standing in the open with only a short dress to comfort her modesty. As instructed she wore no bra or panties under the short red dress. Her hair hung curled around her shoulders and her feet too were naked but for the red of her painted toes. She knew He would strip her bare. She knew He would expose her for the slut she wanted to be, for the slut she knew she was and He knew it too. He had always seen it in her.

The door opened after she had waited there for minutes. Her eyes fell to the floor as He had said she was to do. She wasn't to look at him. The smell of sand and sea made her giddy and she could feel His height towering over her.

"Take your dress off."

A hesitation. She was on the doorstep. She was exposed, though the remote location gave her some comfort. She reached down and grasping her dress pulled it up over her head.

"Hand it to me."

With outstretched arm she offered the garment to him.

"This is Mine for the time you are here. You are Mine for all time. Do you understand?"

"Yes Daddy."

The excitement in her grew. She felt herself wet as she shivered a little on the doorstep. He reached forward and caressed her hair. His hand slid down her skin and cupped her breast squeezing slightly, pulling and pinching at her nipple making her wince slightly. His hands travelled behind her back. His fingers probed between her thighs. She opened her legs.

"You will not close your legs in my presence. Do you understand me young lady?"

"Yes Daddy."

"Good girl. Now you may look at me."

Her eyes met His as his finger slid inside her slick cunt. She gasped at this little pleasure He had allowed her. For a second she almost forgot she was still standing in the open. She flushed with embarrassment at the realisation of what she was doing. He pulled his fingers away and offered them to her mouth, tracing her lips with her own juices.


She took his finger in her mouth, tasting herself, her tongue feeling the smooth texture of each finger. Her scent travelled to her nostrils and she drank it in. Her nipples hardened in response to this display of ownership over her. He pulled her inside and she knelt as he bade her never taking her eyes from His.


As she crawled  ahead of him, he watch the rhythmic wiggle of her arse. He knew what was in store for that arse..if only she did, would she still be here? He knew that  she would of course even if she doubted it herself. He would teach her never to doubt herself. He would teach her never to deny herself. He would show her that she is at her best when she embraced herself freely and without reservation. In fact He would demand it and it started here, in this first weekend.

He sat in a large leather armchair. She was in front of Him. She was turned away with her back to Him, her face resting on the floor, her arms outstretched, knees wide apart and her round arse in the air, offered for His inspection. Her breath was ragged as she waited. Her puckered arse had been decorated with a sparkly bright toy readying her for Daddy's cock. Her pussy glistened in the sunshine entering through the windows. The clear blue sky and gentle sea breeze flowed through the window bringing with it the only sound she could hear, the ebb and flow of the sea waves rolling onto the beach outside the windows.

"Come here young lady."

He pulled her over his lap. Her embarrassment was complete. His hand began to warm her arse. Lightly at first, almost lovingly. The sting in her arse was building and she began to wiggle, squirm on His lap. As His blows got stronger the sweat grew on her brow. Relief came when He paused to check her state. Her slickness told the story of her reaction to His blows. He whispered in her ear. He whispered things that made His girl blush. He called her names. She was His slut, His good girl, His delicious little whore. The heat built in her cunt. The ache and throb in her pink wet flesh soon had her begging for His cock. She needed Him, she needed to be fucked. He continued to whisper to her,

"You are My needy little bitch. Squirming and writhing for Daddy's cock. You are My slut, My little good girl whore. Even so, I don't think you have earned it yet do you little slut?"

"No Daddy." she agreed in a ragged voice.

Tears welled in her eyes as her bottom became more and more reddened and bruised. She wiggled and squirmed on Daddy's lap. She was approaching distress but didn't want Daddy to stop. She loved the feeling of her bottom under His hand. She never wanted Him to stop, perhaps only to fuck her.

He pushed her off His lap to her knees. He bound her wrists and ankles and hogtied her. He stood, His cock straining against His trousers, His hand held her chin as He looked down at her.

"Now, open your mouth little one. You are going to please Daddy's cock. Then if you are very good my girl, Daddy's cock will replace that sparkly diamond in your puckered hole and Daddy will fuck your arse."

It occured to him that His slut was never so beautiful as now with watering eyes, her mascara smudged around them and her throat filled with cock. Her dark blond hair was twisted around His fist as He fucked her mouth and encouraged her gag. His power was clear as He blocked her breath with His shaft and when He allowed she gulped in the air that sustained her conciousness.

This is how their first meeting started. She was His. She was owned and she finally knew it, from the second she knocked lightly on the door.

unknown photographer. Source: the internet

Thursday, October 18, 2012

release the hounds! (breasts on display)

Local D is away and I admit I am struggling. We have not had the opportunity negotiate a relationship or rather the character of the relationship when he is away. He is a long way away in remote locations with days that begin early and go late into the night, sometimes into the early hours of the morning. I have taken to keeping my phone on silent as there have been text messages as late as 1am, very unusual for him, though the risk is kind of exciting for me. Traditionally I have not been a girl that responds well to risk.

He issued an instruction today, one that made me anxious. No panties of course, no problem (when I'm not at work). When I'm at work without stockings and only a summer frock, well that's a different story! In addition to a bare arsed girl, he decided that I should go out into the world with no bra. I was silent when I heard the words. Is he serious? He knows I hate this thought and he has not ever demanded it before. He has hinted that one day he might, but until now nothing.

"Text me when it is done."

I am not in my twenties. These puppies have done their womanly duty in child-rearing and girl fun. These fun bags deserve the over-shoulder boulder holder in situ. These boobs, hooters, tits, tatas are shapely and on the larger side, though not enormous. This puts me in mind of the first question asked by most men online, 'bra size?'  When I dabbled in online forums I thought it such a strange thing to ask. After all there was no cam involved, I could have said anything, 'big or small, what's your pleasure?' So what was the obsession with the answer to this question? I never really came to a satisfactory conclusion. But I am off the track...

The instruction was explicit. "No bra or panties around the house today, no bra at least once when you go out today." I hesitated, silent. My mind spinning, thinking...too much as I am want to do.

Now I know this is a basic thing, this little task. The thought of going out with the girls swinging free however, bouncing buoyantly, but frankly not as perky as they once were, drove in me an anxiety that threatened to overwhelm my submissve self.

"Yes Sir."

I went out, bra securely in place. Panties not so securely in place.

Later in a large shopping centre car park I sat in the car thinking. Silence. I looked around at the cars surrounding mine. Not a soul in sight. I reached under my shirt to my bra clasp and let it loose. As I watched a motorcyclist in the rear view mirror travelling toward me, my hand slid first up the sleeve of my right arm and pulled my bra strap down and off. The left repeated, I reached up under the front of my shirt and pulled my bra away to decamp my breasts from their comfortable citadel.

I was struck by the tension between the freedom I felt and the anxiety in my breath. Though my next move should have been to start the car, slip into drive and point the wheel to home, I opened the car door and got out. Closing the the door behind me, I stood looking at my reflection in the glass. I drank in the hang of my breast under my tight shirt, the shape of my nipple standing proud. I saw too the shape and pink colour of my areolar though the white of  the cotton fabric. I messaged my obedience while I gazed at my reflection. Then, I got back in the car and drove home.

photographer unknown. Source: the internet

Sunday, October 14, 2012


You asked-Has Local D ever just stripped you and made you lay across his lap for a spanking? tell me about it and how it made you feel.

I think a couple of times but it is always spontaneous never ceremonial in nature. Except maybe the first time.
The first time I went to the room.
It was the very first thing he did.
It was uncomfortable, mostly. Making me feel uneasy but i think that was more to do with the newness of our encounter than being unsure about the spanking.
He had undressed me, touched me. I was amazed at how easily I stood still for him, my hand gravitating naturally to clasp each other behind my back. 
His hands, these hands of a new man adventuring everywhere, anywhere he decided, pinching, grasping, caressing, all the places that only one man had been for the last 15 yrs.
My lumps and bumps didn't matter, my insecurities about my body didn't matter. He was clothed and as he walked around me he gauged my reaction.
I was only a little wet I think, so nervous that first time Daddy.
He paddled my bottom with his hand a couple of times and I felt myself wet, my lips let go a trammelled whisper, 'oh fuck'.
He bent me over and spanked again..I love his spanks, he does it so that my bottom wobbles rhythmically like a jelly filled rubber balloon.

He sat, and pulled me across his lap, I felt uncomfortable, uneasy. I was so very nervous suddenly there in such an intimate circumstance with this man I barely knew. Trusting him with everything. Trusting he would send me home to my family at the end of the day.

I don't think he really does much of it anymore...mostly when we rest, I lay my head in his lap and sometimes, when he thinks I have rested enough, I get a pussy slapping which I like very much.
But Daddy there is not much I don't like from him, we have discovered together that I am a very kinky bitch...
unknown photographer. Source the Internet