Imagine an Irishman left without words.
All that remained was one:
"Amazing."
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Submitting to Irene
A force of nature.
She was a force of nature.
Both in fact and in metaphor.
She fascinated me, like some mythological beast who won't let you look away, even as she draws nearer and nearer and prepares to devour you.
She swallowed me up.
I could not look away.
The storm wasn't even all that bad here. We were hit with nothing more than the fringes of her skirt and cloak as she twirled up the coast, enough to take down some trees but not enough to stop the city cold. I lost power for perhaps half a minute and no more, though others were not that lucky. We didn't even get a lot of rain.
But I couldn't look away.
I couldn't go to sleep.
Obsessively, I followed her path, swapping preparations, plans, and predictions with friends up and down the East Coast. We'd been talking all week anyway, not wanting to let go of the intimacy of our days at "Band Camp" and the surprise earthquake that came so soon after. I fed off Facebook and group e-mails, while Irene sank her teeth into my pale, bare neck and fed off me.
By the afternoon, I was insanely aroused, and not just from working on the first half of my latest sex toy review. It was Irene. She was tangled in my rowdy curls, winding her scarf around my neck, and blowing into my panting pussy. My Master was right to see that I was too sensitive not to respond to her.
I wanted to lay myself naked at her feet and feel her lash.
When she finally arrived at our latitude, she kept her distance. Like many people this time of year, she haunted the shore and merely breezed by the halls of power, monuments of stone already shaken by the rumblings of midweek. She treated us gently and I was disappointed.
I wanted more.
I needed more.
I wanted to walk out into the storm and give myself to her,
naked and unprotected.
I needed to offer myself.
I needed to submit.
I needed her to slap my face with gusts of wind,
to flog my breasts with sprays of stinging rain,
to cane my belly and buttocks
with switches of fallen branches.
I wanted her power.
I needed her fury.
But all she gave me was a hint.
A taste.
And roaring echoes of her passion.
It was my Master who gave me relief.
My Master who opened the locks.
My Master who said I could touch and could cum
and licked up the words that flowed with my passion.
He knew I couldn't help being drawn to Irene.
But he knows that I'm nobody's slave but his own.
She was a force of nature.
Both in fact and in metaphor.
She fascinated me, like some mythological beast who won't let you look away, even as she draws nearer and nearer and prepares to devour you.
She swallowed me up.
I could not look away.
The storm wasn't even all that bad here. We were hit with nothing more than the fringes of her skirt and cloak as she twirled up the coast, enough to take down some trees but not enough to stop the city cold. I lost power for perhaps half a minute and no more, though others were not that lucky. We didn't even get a lot of rain.
But I couldn't look away.
I couldn't go to sleep.
Obsessively, I followed her path, swapping preparations, plans, and predictions with friends up and down the East Coast. We'd been talking all week anyway, not wanting to let go of the intimacy of our days at "Band Camp" and the surprise earthquake that came so soon after. I fed off Facebook and group e-mails, while Irene sank her teeth into my pale, bare neck and fed off me.
By the afternoon, I was insanely aroused, and not just from working on the first half of my latest sex toy review. It was Irene. She was tangled in my rowdy curls, winding her scarf around my neck, and blowing into my panting pussy. My Master was right to see that I was too sensitive not to respond to her.
I wanted to lay myself naked at her feet and feel her lash.
When she finally arrived at our latitude, she kept her distance. Like many people this time of year, she haunted the shore and merely breezed by the halls of power, monuments of stone already shaken by the rumblings of midweek. She treated us gently and I was disappointed.
I wanted more.
I needed more.
I wanted to walk out into the storm and give myself to her,
naked and unprotected.
I needed to offer myself.
I needed to submit.
I needed her to slap my face with gusts of wind,
to flog my breasts with sprays of stinging rain,
to cane my belly and buttocks
with switches of fallen branches.
I wanted her power.
I needed her fury.
But all she gave me was a hint.
A taste.
And roaring echoes of her passion.
It was my Master who gave me relief.
My Master who opened the locks.
My Master who said I could touch and could cum
and licked up the words that flowed with my passion.
He knew I couldn't help being drawn to Irene.
But he knows that I'm nobody's slave but his own.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Masturbation mania (10) -Testing the Silky G
E-mail from me to Kayla, my contact at EdenFanatsys and steady supplier of sex toys:
I know you're at a conference and may not see it for a while, but just wanted to let you know that I tried the Silky G last night. It's so damn adorable that I couldn't wait. And I love it! A couple of things could be improved, and it wouldn't work for someone who needs things really strong or fat. But for me? Oh my...
And yes. It's VERY quiet.
Finally.
Thanks so much!
Flashback:
Having finally finished my rabbit review, it was time to select the next product to subject to my rigorous series of consumer tests. But the clitoral vibrator I had in mind wasn't available for review last month, and the hoped-for replacement for the much beloved but now deceased Fun Factory vibrator the philosopher gave me has been discontinued. (You can see it pictured in the photo at the bottom of the right-hand column.)
Kayla, however, had been paying attention to my comments over the last few months, and offered some suggestions based on my preference for silicone and my sensitivity to vibrator noise. My noise issue is not so much that my housemate will hear; rather the buzzing is distracting and ugly and offends my artistic sensibilities.
I studied the small list very scientifically, as my other concern is the surprising tightness of my 62-year old pussy. And I never did like fat cocks. Not only are they uncomfortable, but they are graceless.
Eventually, I selected a G-spot vibrator from Evolved Novelties called the Fleur de Lis Silky G. Like last month's rabbit from the same manufacturer, the Silky G comes in a really cool and creative package. In fact, in 2009 Evolved Novelties won an award for Best Packaging. My only complaint about the package is that it's a little fussy. You can't just pop the vibrator out of the container when your pussy starts screaming for attention. There's a little plastic ring you have to unscrew first. But its great for storage and isn't inordinately larger than the vibrator herself.
This one I do call "she" because she's so damn cute.
Perky.
Slender.
A bit saucy.
With a jaunty little curved tip that reminds me of
a soft-serve ice cream cone dipped in hardened chocolate.
Except it's not brown.
It's purple.
A lovely purple.
And silicone.
I definitely prefer silicone.
Feels soft.
[Writing interrupted at this point when my Master responded to my plaintive cries of painful arousal by granting me permission to masturbate with the stipulation that I write him before, during, and after. Which I did, affording my pulsing pussy much-needed relief, my Master a flood of entertaining and decidedly pornographic messages, and the Silky G another chance to show her stuff. Which she did. I'm smitten.]
And here, I think, I'll stop for now.
Check back for more on the Silky G, either tomorrow or as power outages allow.
Meanwhile, I'll sigh wistfully, wondering when my Master will let me play with my new friend again. Something about this storm is making me unbearably horny...
Friday, August 26, 2011
Be prepared.
Hurricane's coming.
Are you ready?
Make sure you've got extra batteries for your vibrators.
But first, make sure you have permission to masturbate.
This has been a public service announcement.
Are you ready?
Make sure you've got extra batteries for your vibrators.
But first, make sure you have permission to masturbate.
This has been a public service announcement.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Naked wrestling with jealousy
sin has been talking about jealousy lately.
Here.
And here.
Specifically, jealousy in response to her Dom's interactions with another submissive.
I tossed in my opinion, and given that I've been feeling extremely disinclined to post since coming home from "Band Camp", as the philosopher calls it, I'll take the lazy way out and reprint my comments below. Not that there's anything new in them. You've heard it before. I know the sadist has numerous other submissives. More than the ones I've specifically been informed of. I've met 3 of them and expect to meet more, though surely not all. And it doesn't bother me.
It used to.
A lot.
Back when I knew of only the one.
His masochist slave.
Now I'm fine.
Which isn't like me.
Anyway, you can read my blathering below.
But first, a question.
sin wrote specifically about jealousy towards other submissives. But:
Please do weigh in.
And please do visit sin's blog.
It's the least I can do for appropriating her topic.
Now here's what I wrote over at her place:
I can't say that I'm turned on by knowing that the sadist has other submissives. But I no longer have a problem with it. In general I am very insecure, and have a great fear of being rejected. Earlier in our relationship, I did have a strong sense of competitiveness with his masochist slave. Now I'm just grateful that he has another outlet for his most extreme sadistic needs. His slave is part of the construct that protects both me and our relationship, and has literally saved my ass numerous times.
The main thing, though, is that I finally feel secure in that relationship. I have a stronger understanding of my Master's feelings for me and my special place in his collection.
It does surprise me that I'm so calm about it all. The only resentment I harbor is that perhaps he would have more time for me if he didn't have to manage such a big stockpile of submissives. On the other hand, our meetings are so reach and intense, I'm not sure that I could manage much more than one a week. Can one live on heavy cream? Even when spiced with hot pepper oil?
My acceptance amazes me, and I can't say I would feel the same about any other relationship, so I'm certainly not holding myself up as a role model.
Good luck.
I know it's hard.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I don't think jealousy is subject to logic. I can use logic to explain why I'm generally ok with my current situation, but logic didn't get me to where I am. And I definitely don't think that just because I'm ok, anyone else should be.
My recommendation? Don't beat yourself up about it. If the jealousy is to ease, it will happen over time. Work on the relationship as a whole. Focus on what YOU have with him, what you are to him, and what he is with you. Focus on your relationship FOR ITS OWN SAKE. What else is there?
And let yourself accept that yes, you are jealous, and that this is NOT an abnormal state to be in.
Perhaps the only other thing I might suggest is to try to avoid letting it affect your behaviour. You can't change your feelings by force of will, but you can try to control what you do. And that's one of the gifts of serving as a submissive: learning self-control. Learning to move our focus outside of ourselves and onto someone else, and basing our behaviour on someone else's needs and requirements. We willingly agree to change that focus and, in a relationship with a skilled, responsible, thoughtful Dom(me), we learn and grow.
It's hard.
I know it's hard.
That's ok.
I think if submission weren't hard, weren't a challenge, we wouldn't gain so much from it.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
So what do you think?
Here.
And here.
Specifically, jealousy in response to her Dom's interactions with another submissive.
I tossed in my opinion, and given that I've been feeling extremely disinclined to post since coming home from "Band Camp", as the philosopher calls it, I'll take the lazy way out and reprint my comments below. Not that there's anything new in them. You've heard it before. I know the sadist has numerous other submissives. More than the ones I've specifically been informed of. I've met 3 of them and expect to meet more, though surely not all. And it doesn't bother me.
It used to.
A lot.
Back when I knew of only the one.
His masochist slave.
Now I'm fine.
Which isn't like me.
Anyway, you can read my blathering below.
But first, a question.
sin wrote specifically about jealousy towards other submissives. But:
- What about towards a Dom(me)'s significant other, if there is one?
- If that jealousy and resentment exists, is it of a different nature from feelings toward other subs and/or slaves?
- Does it make a difference if the wife/husband/partner is also a submissive?
- What if the other person is another Dom(me)?
- How do you feel if you are a submissive spouse/partner knowing that your Dom(me) has other submissives and/or slaves?
Please do weigh in.
And please do visit sin's blog.
It's the least I can do for appropriating her topic.
Now here's what I wrote over at her place:
I can't say that I'm turned on by knowing that the sadist has other submissives. But I no longer have a problem with it. In general I am very insecure, and have a great fear of being rejected. Earlier in our relationship, I did have a strong sense of competitiveness with his masochist slave. Now I'm just grateful that he has another outlet for his most extreme sadistic needs. His slave is part of the construct that protects both me and our relationship, and has literally saved my ass numerous times.
The main thing, though, is that I finally feel secure in that relationship. I have a stronger understanding of my Master's feelings for me and my special place in his collection.
It does surprise me that I'm so calm about it all. The only resentment I harbor is that perhaps he would have more time for me if he didn't have to manage such a big stockpile of submissives. On the other hand, our meetings are so reach and intense, I'm not sure that I could manage much more than one a week. Can one live on heavy cream? Even when spiced with hot pepper oil?
My acceptance amazes me, and I can't say I would feel the same about any other relationship, so I'm certainly not holding myself up as a role model.
Good luck.
I know it's hard.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I don't think jealousy is subject to logic. I can use logic to explain why I'm generally ok with my current situation, but logic didn't get me to where I am. And I definitely don't think that just because I'm ok, anyone else should be.
My recommendation? Don't beat yourself up about it. If the jealousy is to ease, it will happen over time. Work on the relationship as a whole. Focus on what YOU have with him, what you are to him, and what he is with you. Focus on your relationship FOR ITS OWN SAKE. What else is there?
And let yourself accept that yes, you are jealous, and that this is NOT an abnormal state to be in.
Perhaps the only other thing I might suggest is to try to avoid letting it affect your behaviour. You can't change your feelings by force of will, but you can try to control what you do. And that's one of the gifts of serving as a submissive: learning self-control. Learning to move our focus outside of ourselves and onto someone else, and basing our behaviour on someone else's needs and requirements. We willingly agree to change that focus and, in a relationship with a skilled, responsible, thoughtful Dom(me), we learn and grow.
It's hard.
I know it's hard.
That's ok.
I think if submission weren't hard, weren't a challenge, we wouldn't gain so much from it.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
So what do you think?
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Sometimes, the earth really does move
He asked when it had hit.
It seems earthquakes are not as detectable when you're driving.
It seems earthquakes are not as detectable when you're driving.
I was really hoping it was when I was with you.
Don't think I would have noticed.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
He says I need direction
"You need my direction. Remind me Tuesday."
Well, of course I need his direction!
Especially now, having been on my own for a week.
There's a reason I respond to ownership.
A reason I gravitate towards dominance.
I need it.
And not from just anyone.
I had a good time.
And in some ways, it was good to have the freedom.
But I always carried him within me.
And coming home,
leaving where I was,
leaving the people I was with,
was a lot easier knowing I was coming home
to resume being
who I really am.
(Boy, would my friends be surprised...)
Well, of course I need his direction!
Especially now, having been on my own for a week.
There's a reason I respond to ownership.
A reason I gravitate towards dominance.
I need it.
And not from just anyone.
I had a good time.
And in some ways, it was good to have the freedom.
But I always carried him within me.
And coming home,
leaving where I was,
leaving the people I was with,
was a lot easier knowing I was coming home
to resume being
who I really am.
(Boy, would my friends be surprised...)
Friday, August 12, 2011
The pause that refreshes
Does he really think it's that easy?
I'm on my way to my annual music and dance immersion.
Playing music,
dancing,
hanging out,
living in a cabin with 15 other people...
He says it's good to cleanse the palate occasionally.
He says I should concentrate on my artistic endeavours.
He says it would be good to clear my mid of thoughts of him
Really?
He really thinks I will?
I'll be like a kid at an artsy summer camp.
"Listen, Daddy!
Listen to what I learned to play today!
Isn't this a beautiful tune?
Look at our beautiful cabin!
Taste this delicious food!
Look at how I'm glowing because I'm so happy.
Listen in on my mind, Daddy!
Hear how I never stop thinking of you."
I won't try hard to avoid thinking about him.
But I'll take it as absolution in advance for focusing on other things.
I had hoped to schedule a few other posts for while I'm gone, including my very happy review of my latest toy. But that will just have to wait until I get back. Meanwhile, go delve into the archives, or re-read some of your favorite posts, until one day I pop up smiling again.
Have a good week, you guys.
As for me,
this night on my own in a hotel in Scranton,
I have permission to masturbate.
Yippee!
I only hope I don't fall asleep first...
I'm on my way to my annual music and dance immersion.
Playing music,
dancing,
hanging out,
living in a cabin with 15 other people...
He says it's good to cleanse the palate occasionally.
He says I should concentrate on my artistic endeavours.
He says it would be good to clear my mid of thoughts of him
Really?
He really thinks I will?
I'll be like a kid at an artsy summer camp.
"Listen, Daddy!
Listen to what I learned to play today!
Isn't this a beautiful tune?
Look at our beautiful cabin!
Taste this delicious food!
Look at how I'm glowing because I'm so happy.
Listen in on my mind, Daddy!
Hear how I never stop thinking of you."
I won't try hard to avoid thinking about him.
But I'll take it as absolution in advance for focusing on other things.
I had hoped to schedule a few other posts for while I'm gone, including my very happy review of my latest toy. But that will just have to wait until I get back. Meanwhile, go delve into the archives, or re-read some of your favorite posts, until one day I pop up smiling again.
Have a good week, you guys.
As for me,
this night on my own in a hotel in Scranton,
I have permission to masturbate.
Yippee!
I only hope I don't fall asleep first...
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Monday, August 8, 2011
Not dead. Just busy.
The new bathroom is all done except for a few details.
So I've been cleaning up after that.
Clearing out the dungeon bedroom for the new tenant.
He moved in tonight.
We talked for far too long.
Plus I'm leaving soon for music camp.
Way too much to do for that.
And Daddy is coming tomorrow.
He says he's feeling very predatory.
I'm glad.
With all the current distractions
and then a week away at camp
I need to feel the power of his control.
I am deliciously nervous...
So I've been cleaning up after that.
Clearing out the dungeon bedroom for the new tenant.
He moved in tonight.
We talked for far too long.
Plus I'm leaving soon for music camp.
Way too much to do for that.
And Daddy is coming tomorrow.
He says he's feeling very predatory.
I'm glad.
With all the current distractions
and then a week away at camp
I need to feel the power of his control.
I am deliciously nervous...
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Please say you like me!
Those submissives, you are thinking.
Always so needy.
Always needing approval.
Down on their knees, begging for those magic words.
"Good girl."
Well...
yes.
But not only.
There's this top sex bloggers thing.
Last year, completely to my surprise, I ended up on the list of Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2010. I didn't even know I'd been nominated, and only found out I'd been included (at #34) when my stats shot up like a runaway helium balloon. I felt honored. And moved. Especially because what I do is rather different from what you'll find on most sex-related blogs. BDSM or otherwise.
It wasn't just the honor.
It wasn't just the new readers.
There were the unexpected extras.
The invitations to test drive sex toys.
And my favorite:
a request to submit comments for a journalism textbook
on writing about sex.
Very thought-provoking.
So who can be surprised?
I'm a greedy little thing.
I want more.
And as some of you may have noticed elsewhere, the call for nominations is out. So if you happen to particularly like what I do here - and/or particularly like what some other bloggers are doing - go here to get all the rules and details and then make your nominations for the Top Sex Bloggers of 2011. As rule #6 says: "You can nominate as many bloggers as you like, but please try to limit to your very favorites."
Just please don't dawdle.
Nominations close August 31.
And if I'm one of your very favorites - let them know!
[shameless... I know... ]
Always so needy.
Always needing approval.
Down on their knees, begging for those magic words.
"Good girl."
Well...
yes.
But not only.
There's this top sex bloggers thing.
Last year, completely to my surprise, I ended up on the list of Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2010. I didn't even know I'd been nominated, and only found out I'd been included (at #34) when my stats shot up like a runaway helium balloon. I felt honored. And moved. Especially because what I do is rather different from what you'll find on most sex-related blogs. BDSM or otherwise.
It wasn't just the honor.
It wasn't just the new readers.
There were the unexpected extras.
The invitations to test drive sex toys.
And my favorite:
a request to submit comments for a journalism textbook
on writing about sex.
Very thought-provoking.
So who can be surprised?
I'm a greedy little thing.
I want more.
And as some of you may have noticed elsewhere, the call for nominations is out. So if you happen to particularly like what I do here - and/or particularly like what some other bloggers are doing - go here to get all the rules and details and then make your nominations for the Top Sex Bloggers of 2011. As rule #6 says: "You can nominate as many bloggers as you like, but please try to limit to your very favorites."
Just please don't dawdle.
Nominations close August 31.
And if I'm one of your very favorites - let them know!
[shameless... I know... ]
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
His hand, my butt
He spanked me.
So "Nu...?" you say. Or would say if you were one of my long-dead Yiddish-speaking grandfathers. Either one. The Socialist or the Communist. Take your pick.
Where was I?
Ah yes.
So "Nu...?" you say.
He's a dom.
A sadist.
I should be surprised?
Well, yes. Because there hasn't been much spanking of this slave's smooth, soft, sumptuous bottom lately. The sadist has been cautious, hoping not to awaken the beast who has been lolling around in the heat of these past few weeks. Still, a man has appetites. Not to mention a precious toy which it's a pity not to use to full advantage
So he spanked his treasure's bottom.
And pinched his little slave's nipples.
And renewed the bite marks on her neck and lower lip.
It wasn't a bad spanking.
Just enough to leave a lingering pain a few hours later.
A treasured, ringing reminder
of pain
and love
and the hour or so I spent worshiping his cock with my mouth.
So "Nu...?" you say. Or would say if you were one of my long-dead Yiddish-speaking grandfathers. Either one. The Socialist or the Communist. Take your pick.
Where was I?
Ah yes.
So "Nu...?" you say.
He's a dom.
A sadist.
I should be surprised?
Well, yes. Because there hasn't been much spanking of this slave's smooth, soft, sumptuous bottom lately. The sadist has been cautious, hoping not to awaken the beast who has been lolling around in the heat of these past few weeks. Still, a man has appetites. Not to mention a precious toy which it's a pity not to use to full advantage
So he spanked his treasure's bottom.
And pinched his little slave's nipples.
And renewed the bite marks on her neck and lower lip.
It wasn't a bad spanking.
Just enough to leave a lingering pain a few hours later.
A treasured, ringing reminder
of pain
and love
and the hour or so I spent worshiping his cock with my mouth.
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