Saturday, February 22, 2014

public private secret

I have been thinking. Yes yes stop your chuckling.
I am not a whole in here. The lil girl I let out here is not the whole of me but one part of the sum of parts that makes me.

There is a known psychology which says there is the public self, the private self and the absolute inside self..the secret self which is only known by each of us inside. It is made up of our thoughts, our secrets and our dreams.

My secret self spills out on these pages, certainly my private self does. In these pages my public self is exchanged with my secret self. A crowd of hundreds knowing my secret and private selves but not my public self. The is only two people visiting here who know my public self (secret to everyone else) are Local D (Sir) and Daddy (Marvellous Mentor).

On the street I am not recognisable as the slut I am here. No one can see my knickerless bottom. I never say cunt out loud except perhaps with Sir when he pushes me to the point where I am a seething filthy mess and dirty slut for him. He told me recently that I did say it in those circumstances and I almost didn't believe him, I wasn't aware.

On the street I am a highly educated woman, self assured with responsible employment in a large public organisation. I am a mother of a not fully grown son. A son with model looks I am told. I am proud of his model looks but I am equally, if not more, proud of his intelligence and his compassion for human beings. His innate sense of natural justice, of right and wrong and of equity at such a young age fills my heart with pride and joy. I think I am a mother at my core. Everything I do is about supporting my son to be there for him. My work is part-time and I have remained at a lower level than I am capable of because He is my job. He is why I am here.

A few years ago I was told I had cancer (over the phone!) after a period of stunned silence, I raised my voice and almost shouted down the phone,

'...but I can't have cancer, I have a 5 yr old son!'

It was inconceivable that I might die and leave him to grow without a mother. Growing as that poor boy who lost his mother at such an early age. Never knowing how much I loved him. Never seeing him become a man. Never being able to protect him. I didn't die and I am watching him grow and keeping him guided and safe.

On the street I am a wife. My relationship is less conventional in the last few years than a lot of monogamous style partnerships. I am not actually married, but he is a life partner so this is what we call ourselves (husband and wife). I am a carer to my husband as he suffers a serious mental illness. This makes our life a struggle. I have accepted his adultery and grudgingly, his inability to care for his family. I struggle to accept his illness living in hope that things will get better, even as they continue to get worse and harder to manage. This is my public and private self and this is the life that I have kept secret in here.  I have been accused of adultery as I don't fit the mould of the Judeo-Christian tradition (which apparently every one ought too). I chuckle at these abuses and the sense of the parochialism of these comments as I no longer believe that monogamy is possible in happy perpetuity, or possibly even a virtue in and of itself.

In all this I have discovered two men that are accepting of my public, private and secret selves. I am centered by Sir. I am cared for by Sir and Daddy. I am loved in a way that would not allow me to fall. I feel safe. I have not felt safe in a very long time. The ground beneath my feet has been one of shifting sands, there has been no solid rock, no sacred ground. Not until now.

photographer unknown: source

Friday, February 21, 2014

oh me oh my.. in troube again!

I think Local D and Daddy have plotted to be more strict with me.

I am in trouble deep and like a duck on the water, I am paddling furiously underneath to keep pace with the consequences of my latest infraction.

I have, in short, broken a rule..Rule #5 of the 10 Commandments'.

Here's how it happened....

 *She looks sheepishly down as she kicks the dust with the toe of her follow-me fuck-me heels*.


She had visited the room that day and had already received several rounds of punishment for more than one earlier infraction.

Before she was even stripped of her skirt and top she was bent over his knee, her skirt was hoisted up around her waist to expose her knickerless bottom and he began to strike. 10 blows were landed with his huge hand driven by arms of which she had never known such strength. In between the each beat of her drum she recited,
When given an instruction, I will be prompt--or inform of any obstacles to my obedience right away--BEFORE HE has to ask me. As I haven't done that, please give me another.
By the end of her punishment she was breathless and dizzy and her bottom stung to the point of very painful. That was just the warm-up. She was tied and chained. Her nipples were tortured. She was gagged and her pussy was punished with the evil cane.

She enjoyed a whole day in the room under his hand and by 3 in the afternoon she fell into a deep sleep in his arms. She went into the room his bitch, bratty and rebellious. She came out his submissive lilone.

She arrived home exhausted and happy. She had been punished and loved by her Sir and knew exactly where she was positioned in their world together.

That night even in her exhaustion, she could not sleep. After a day of punishing treatment her pussy was wet and sore, her nipples were sore, her muscles were stretched and sore. As she lay in the dark listening to her husband restlessly trying to sleep she eventually drifted into heavenly rest.

She was woken from her slumber  in the wee hours with her husbands cock pushing into her arse. She was learning that she loved to be an anal slut and the stimulation of a cock in her bottom made her very wet and breathless. She loved to be woken from sleep being taken in this way. No romantic foreplay, no hearts and roses, just taken and used. She loved the feeling. What she didn't expect after she had been so unceremoniously used, was the need to cum again that so desperately filled her. She lost count of the number of times Sir had allowed her to cum that day, made her cum, demanded she cum for Him. Her own fingers and her clit were tired and very sore. She reached for her buzzy magic wand, thinking not too deeply about rule #5, it was late and Sir would not respond to her text anyway. She resolved to deal with the consequences of breaking rule #5 tomorrow and away she went, relief in her hand, her mind a buzz of naughtiness and need. Used and needy. Needing her Sir. Needing to come. Boy was she going to cop it when she told Him she had cum. In that moment she didn't care, she just needed the explosion of lust in her pelvis. She needed her thighs to quiver, her toes to curl, her breath to be expelled with force and waves of ecstasy to run though her body.

...and so she fell into a deep heavenly sleep. Cum oozing from her bottom, her pussy throbbing with pleasure.

She had taken pleasure rather than given it to Sir ..and broke Rule # 5. She was in for it!

photographer unknown

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

living vanilla, aching to be owned

M has give me permission to post her question here:
My question to you is how you deal with living with a vanilla husband and having a Sir as well?
I find myself thinking of my master almost all day long, and getting quite emotional after a  week without seeing or talking to him. I feel  very vulnerable and get insecure about him and our relationship. I do not want to demand too much attention, he has his own life, but things just get worse until I can speak to him.I feel sad at the lack of 'playing'.  
My Master and I had a good talk about this and he thinks I just need to be in a D/s relationship. That I am longing for more guidance in my life and I just get too little of that. He thinks these feelings of mine will not pass.
I'm so curious if you have ever had the same issues, maybe you have past them and will tell me how you did that.

Thank you for your question and I will start with how I deal with a vanilla husband (actually my life partner and not a husband) and a Sir.

The short answer is...I don't. My relationship with Non Dom Hub has suffered for sometime and we circle each other but we rarely connect anymore. We remain together but in honesty I am not happy in the relationship. A variety of reasons keeps us under the same roof living a life (of sorts) together. This has nothing to do with Local D in my life though Non-Dom may see it otherwise, but that is my guess, I have not asked him and to some extent, I have given up caring. Even if my relationship with non-Dom ended today, I would not seek another man. For a very long time (years) I tried my hardest to keep us together. Now I dream of the day I don't have to be with him.

As far as Local D (Sir) is concerned, I have never felt particularly vulnerable emotionally. We were very clear in the beginning that this was about D/s though this does not exclude emotional attachment of course. I have two men in my every day life; Non-Dom Hub and Sir. Sir contacts me everyday (unless he is very busy with work). I have not felt insecure about this. I think it is mainly to do with our agreement that this is a D/s relationship and we are both committed to other people. I am happy for this not to become blurred or grey. I have been careful not to say things I think might be misunderstood or lead down a path we have mutually agreed not to go. He says I just overthink all this and I need to just accept it for what it is and enjoy.

I would suggest, as you have already done, communication, communication, communication. I believe that a good Dom can't understand what's going on for you if you don't tell him (or her). Maybe you could ask if your Master might consider giving you some instruction via text or email with a mechnism of report back to him if you are unable to talk. I think you have done the right thing in telling your Master how you are feeling. As a good Master he will no doubt make sure he cares for you and controls you as you need.

photographer unknown

Monday, February 17, 2014

The Abduction of Lily White

I was contacted by Piper Channing as I'm sure a few of this readership were also. The author invited me to download her erotic fiction short story from amazon. I took up the challenge and here's what I found. Note, as you read my appraisal, I am not a writer or student of literature.

A short story only 44 pages which plays to the imagination of the sub-girl looking for a forceful Dom. Fantasies of being coerced to participate in 'almost' non consensual sex. A rape fantasy at its core, the scoundrel hero is a strong and forceful man who abducts our heroine making her dreamed fantasies a reality. He further saves her from a greater evil. (Spoilers so I won't reveal the rest).

Simple, quick. And a bit of eroticism. I enjoyed it.

photographer unknown

Sunday, February 16, 2014

Butt plug choices for Sir

Thank you all for the advice around the butt plug.

I went to the surfing world and typed in butt plug. I found several examples of butt plugs with which I might like to play. I sent several pictures of steel and bejewelled, glassed and siliconed and vibrated 'remote controlled 'I wrote to him.

'I have a hankering to be tortured by you in public Sir :).'

I sent all the pictures to Sir and asked him for his opinion. He was enamoured with the steel and the vibrating options. He decided he would make the purchase and treat His girl. He never treats me, He spoils me, all the time and I love it! At least I am learning to embrace it, but that's a whole other post.

photographer unknown- source: For the love of a sub photo gallery.

Saturday, February 15, 2014

Butt Plug...HELP!

I have been charged with finding a suitable butt plug for myself. I get a little damp and tingly just thinking about that and my breath becomes rapid.

I need some advice blogging and non blogging friends. I need suggestions, type, material, pros and cons ...HELP!! I am way behind on this task. In fact you could safely say I forgot!!!

L x

Thursday, February 13, 2014


I am in trouble and or the first time ever I'm not looking forward to the consequences.

I was silly and stupid and did a dangerous thing. I could have hurt myself or worse, or someone else.

Sir said 'No'.

He said 'Stop'

He told me what to do...and I did not hear, I was not listening.

I am ashamed and remorseful about my behaviour.

I have apologised.

He said 'These things happen'.

I thought it can't be that easy but I took him at his word.

I was aware that deep down I wanted him to not be calm and patient and wipe it away with well these things happen.

I wanted him to be stern, I wanted him to say there will be consequences.

Eventually I said, 'Will I be punished for this'. It took me a while to ask. I didn't want him to think I misbehaved in order to incur his wrath. I have poked before to gain a slap, but I have never willfully engaged in risky behaviours.

He replied in a ringing endorsement 'OF COURSE, YES.'

I felt strangely calmed. I am aware of a new range of emotions. Oh! Yes he does care. The exact opposite of how I have felt about corporeal punishment in my life, my vanilla life, to date.

photographer unkown - source: For the love of a sub photogallery

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

indifferent valentine's

Valentines day?
This year it's not happening.
I'm not interested.
My partner is becoming more passive-aggressive with me. Is he feeding off my distance?
He pushes me away, but we are still here in the same house, in the same bed, an infrequent touch between us.

I am taking him out for his birthday and for the first time ever in our life together,  I feel it is an endurance test rather than a pleasure.

Oh dear, we are becoming a statistic, just as it seems are Ken and Barbie.

Dina Goldstein via UK Mail online

Sunday, February 9, 2014


She lay on the bed in the mid summer late afternoon sun. The soothing hum of the standard fan in her bedroom relaxed her and brought her thoughts of all those summers slipped past since she was a little girl. This was one of her favourite things. The half light falling in under the almost drawn blinds to keep the heat out of her room helped in her meditation.

She lay on her stomach on the white cotton waffle blanket stretched over her bed. Her pale lilac printed peacock robe crossed loosely across her breasts allowed them to spill onto the soft surface. The gown covered only half her buttocks and her legs were spread slightly as she lay reading and writing.

He peeked into the room, she turned to look at him as he admired her buttocks and wet hair fresh from the shower. Slowly he slid his pants down and walked to where her soothing mouth was at the foot of the bed. She had always loved his cock. It was a beautiful size an shape and as he drove it slowly down her throat, she pushed her reading apparatus out of the way. His hand twisted in her hair. The girl pulled off her reading glasses and like wonder woman spinning in motion to reveal her true amazonian self, the girl was revealed as the cock worshiper she longed to be.

She swallowed his cock into her throat. She had been practicing this skill. Swallowing first the soft-firm head, followed by the shaft of the cock on offer into her throat. Deeply. Making a meal of the gift. She gagged less and less if she controlled her throat in this way.

He pulled out of her suddenly and looking up into his eyes she begged, 'Fuck me.'

He climbed onto her and she raise her arse to him. In one slow deep punishing movement he pushed into her tight pussy. She was as tight as a virgin girl as he opened her and filled her need. His hand reached for her shoulder to pull her back onto him. He rode her wildly and let his pleasure explode into her. Dripping, she collapsed in a sea of emotion. He hadn't fucked her for so long. She let go tears for what she had lost and now tasted once more. He held her telling her he loved her though she didn't believe him. She sobbed until she was spent.

via for the love of a sub photo gallery, photographer unknown

His willing slut

He hoses her down.
The cold water shocking her skin in the hot air.
Her nipples pronounced, hard.
Water falling around her and over her.
She is his to do with as he pleases and it please him to cool her in the summer heat, to watch the water flow over her and see the involuntary response of her flesh and nerve endings.
He beams at her discomfort. His lil girl.

Inside she shivers under the air conditioning unit. He ties her wrists deftly together with the rope and hangs her from the ceiling. He mounts her on the large metal hook. Pulling on the attached rope she whimpers as the cold metal ball slides deeply into her arse. He stretches her so far she is on the tips of her toes, the metal ball pulling her skywards.

He lays the flogger on her skin. The sting is instant and harsh on her cold body. Harder he treats her breasts. They move and wobble rhythmically under his stroke. He is mesmerised by their beautiful fullness. She squirms as she tries to stay on tippy toes, the metal holding her in her space as his strokes work to push her over.

She begins to whimper and then cry out with each stroke. She wonders how long she can endure his pleasure. She will do it though. She will endure it for as long as he feels his pleasure.

He ceases flogging and brings the electric buzzing Hitachi to her wet aching pussy. He denies her the inevitable. She must ask, beg. He stops it, removes it when she is close, when the whimpers and moans turn to desperation. The cold steel holds her in place. She fears her orgasm trussed up in such a humiliating way, yet she wants it, craves it, needs it. He plays with her, denying her until she screams, 'You fucker!' her eyes wild with need. His eyes are spilling with amusement.

He pushes her to the edge time after time. She begs for release everytime.

'Pleeeeease Sir, Pleeeeeease, please please please!'

"CUM" he commands

She's lost in waves of relief. Her toes slipping, she struggles to stay upright. She feels the hook pushing upward into her and is afraid for the consequences shoulds she collapse onto the hook. It feels good in her arse and heightens the waves passing through her.

She likes the predicaments he puts her in. She craves them. She craves his control. Her pleasure, but only under His rules.

Her final humiliation, she is required to remove the hook herself and clean it. sourced via internet

Sunday, February 2, 2014

girl 2 girl

...and another thing.

I am aching to taste a woman. Is this bi-curiosity? I am aching to be under a Domme. Scared to. A Domme does seem to me a scarier prospect than a Dom but to feel her soft skin under my lips. How would her style differ from that of Sir's.

Aching to be touched in a way that a woman might touch. Homoerotic fantasies have always been in my consciousness and my unconscious.

Mutual touching between a girlfriend and I when we were 14. At 16 years sweet, I dreamed an erotic wild dream of a school girlfriend. Was it the absence of boys in an all girl school that had me fantasising about her full red lips, her open hazel eyes and olive skin. She was so beautiful and full of light. I wanted her in my dreams and we had erotic adventures in those same dreams. Dreams from which I woke with my breath short and my pink soft flesh throbbing, nipples hard and tingling.

I have always been far to shy to pursue a real experience, so my panting for the touch of a woman goes unanswered. How does one find woman to answer my dreams?

Photographer: Natasha Schon. Sourced For the love of a Sub

so fucking needy I want to be naughty

I am so fucking horny right now..I need to submit, I need to be slapped and spanked and flogged, pinched and taken.

I am screaming with need.

It's times like this, when Sir is not here, that I feel the temptation to open a conversation with a Dom online and have a scurrilous conversation. I'm sure THAT is forbidden.

This is the time when I feel so needy I could cry with craving...I must wait for tomorrow.

I know when I'm in THAT mood...My go to sexiest picture ever. It ticks every box for me.

Photographer unknownto me. My favourite picture EVER (erotica)

wet, wild & punished

I am in need!
Tomorrow is the cure for my needy girl.

Last week he punished me with the cane. The first time ever for the cane.
He lay me on my back, chains pulled my legs open and back, wrists joined to those ankles. He took the cane and applied it to my mound. Gently at first. I thought this is easy! The strokes got harder but not unbearable.

'But Sir I thought you were going to cane my cunt. My pink soft slick flesh.'

'So I was'.

I squirmed as the cane came down and the sting made my breath heavy. When he was finished he unchained and unstrapped his girl. He removed my cuffs but left the little black suede strap around my throat that cried submissive in metal script.

'Outside.' he commanded.

What! outside! nekkid! but for the throat strap that belies my nature.

He took my arm and as I was staring at him in disbelief, man-handled me to the door, threw it open and pushed me out into the bright sunlight. It was an enclosed space. He directed me to the lawn where I stood, waiting while he unravelled the hose a little. He pointed the hose at his girl and turned the pressure on. I felt a sharp breath enter my lungs as the cold hit me. The water poured over his girl drenching her head to toes. I stood and though it was a warm day, began to shiver, my hair plastered to my head. Black trails running down my cheek from my eyes. The delight on Sir's face was plain to see.

He drove me back inside. Under the air conditioning unit I began to shiver even more. He tied my wrists, winding the rope three times around each and binding them together. He strung me to the ceiling, my wrists stretched above my head.

He worked my body with the soft flogger. Each strand stung on my cold wet body. I whimpered as the leather curled around my body forming welts on my icy skin.  He worked with a deft hand over my chilled breasts and nipples sitting proud. With each stroke I squealed and groaned. The pain is different when the skin is wet and cold I was discovering. This flogger that he used was usually meditative for me. It massaged my flesh on a normal day. Today, it felt like it bit into my flesh. It grabbed at my skin and pulled, threatening to take my skin with it as it flew away from me. I didn't care. This was a whole new experience and I was lost in it. There was no respite from the blows, I turned this way and that, hung from the ceiling like a beast in a slaughter house. He kept the blows coming, working every square inch of my body.

He leant into me from behind, his voice though only a whisper, filled my ear with his lust and raw energy.

'I'm going to fuck your arse.'

He pulled me toward his hardness and push into me. Whimpering, my eyes watered from the pain as he pushed the bulging head of his cock past the tight resistance of my arse. I willed myself to relax, to let Sir in, to let him claim my arse as his own. Dripping, sodden on the concrete floor he place my hanging body on his cock. He pushed into my arse until he could go no further and fucked his girl so hard she thought she might split in two.

I was wonderfully grateful and spent. I had been used for his pleasure in the most raw of ways. I was lustful and raw myself. Lost in being a true fuck toy, His fuck toy. A rareness enveloped me. I felt Mastered, Owned, Property. My head spun with all the wickedness in me.

'I'm Yours, I'm Your's.' I whispered to him.

'Yes you are,' he confirmed as he held me, still hanging from his ceiling.
photograhper unknown

Saturday, February 1, 2014

task complete

Well I did it!

My task that I had put off and off. Daddy gave me this task weeks ago and I delayed it for various reasons. In my naivety I forgot to tell Daddy why I was delaying it. Actually it didn't seem to me like a command until he kept mentioning it in emails, it was more hidden in discussions. I was to take a picture for Daddy.

'It has been far too long since I have seen your flesh young lady.'

I told Sir I had a task given by D and he helpfully gave some suggestions as to the content of my task.

Mentor (Daddy) never really directs outright. Instead I am supposed to be so keyed in to his needs that I am to interpret his vague wishes as command. I find that a bit tricky. Tasks are difficult to accomplish. While I want and need to do as I am told when I am told to do it, I have a life where it remains difficult to fit all this other stuff together, the D/s stuff that is. I have a partner who is always present. I rarely get time alone. I stole some time alone yesterday, even from Sir. He was good about it. He didn't make any demands. Perhaps he knows when I need some alone time.

So the deed is done and Daddy has his pictures (cc'd to Sir). Nice full round breasts, nipples firmly clamped with the bells that Sir gifted me for my birthday. This was the task for which I was punished last week as I delayed its completion. Sir agreed to administer Daddy's punishment and administer it he did! (ouch...and yum). This was followed by his own punishments for my other infractions (This I will write more on later).

Deveko 2009