Masturbation mania (15) - Kiki purrs and o.g. cums

I love being efficient.
I'm not efficient very often, but when I am I'm very pleased with myself.

As you know, the sadist owns my orgasms.
Among other things.
I may only masturbate, not to mention cum, with his permission.
And then he expects a report.
Written.
With details.
Just saying:
I rubbed,
I came,
I cried,
I slept
isn't enough.

So when I test new sex toys, I end up with an account of the experience written either in the heat of the experience or else right after. I arouse the insatiable fiend and make notes for my review at the same time. Clever, no?

Here, then, are excerpts from my reports to the sadist on the two tests I ran on Kiki from PicoBong, LELO's new "youth-oriented", attractively priced line of sex toys. (As an example of the pricing, EdenFantasys sells Kiki for $39.95, whereas they sell LELO's rechargeable Siri for $98.99. Both have multiple vibration patterns on top of a few levels of straight buzz. Both are silicone. Part of Siri's extra cost is likely from being rechargeable, and I suspect it is stronger, given that Kiki runs on a single AAA battery. Plus, as you can see from the above picture, Kiki is really small. Get a little satin pouch for it (Siri already comes with one), and you could easily keep it tucked in your bag for emergencies.

A couple of functional notes before the sexy stuff. I previously learned that even clitoral vibrators benefit from a touch of lube. But given my desperate arousal and fuzzy post-service mental state when I embarked on my first trial run, I forgot that I wouldn't be inserting Kiki and doused her with too much AstroGlide. I think that reduced her effectiveness. The second time I was more careful, and Kiki brought me to an orgasm on her own.

The controls are seemingly simple and obvious, but I found that they don't lie quite where my finger wants them to be. There are just 2 buttons, which you can see in the picture above and can feel with your finger. However, they are in line with the word PicoBong, and I sometimes had to run my finger down the indented design to the right spot and then push a bit hard. you also have to read the instructions carefully and then count your way through the vibration levels so you know when to press and hold the (+) button in order to shift to the different patterns. The first time, I never did make it into the patterns. I suspect that with use I'll get better at it, but for a start it was a bit of nuisance, especially the time I removed the vibrator from my clit to check the placement of my finger.

Still, overall, I'm very fond of the little thing. Gentle, cute, and quiet are good for me. And she certainly works beautifully as an appetizer.

Here, then, are my lab reports, as written for the sadist.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

October 18

I feel unbelievably soft right now, Daddy. So now I'm going to masturbate... with the softness... feeling you still here on the bed... next to me... stroking me... watching me... feeling me tremble next to you... watching my calves stiffen with the arousal... my hair spread out on the pillow...

[...]

And I did masturbate, Daddy. Not long after you left. So that you would still be with me.

You are with me even now, Daddy.
I feel so close to you.

[ . . . ]

I just had to haul myself back from soft memories.

So yes, I masturbated.
Gently.

I pulled back the covers and lay down all soft and naked on the blue sheet and lubed up my cute little new pink toy. It's the sweetest little thing (named Kiki), but I'll have to give it another trial at least before writing the review as I forgot the trick to getting it to switch to the different patterns. You have to bring it all the way up to the top vibration level and then hold the + button down for 2 seconds. The problem was I didn't get it all the way up to the top level, and didn't realize I hadn't.

It's very quiet, Daddy, and very gentle, which is just what I wanted. It doesn't make my poor little clitoris go numb, which some vibrators do. And when that happens, using your fingers after just doesn't work. But this one was gentle, and the thought of how it looks made me feel happy, and thoughts of you made me happy. And then I switched back to my fingers, rubbing my clit which was now all wet from pussy juices and from lube... and I thought of you spanking me and then I came. Not a huge orgasm, Daddy, but a nice orgasm. Just right for today. And then I took a gentle nap.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

October 28

Awake after a short post-orgasmic nap.
I set the timer, Daddy, to be sure I didn't sleep too long.

Thank you so much for letting me masturbate, Daddy! Your poor pussy was so aroused [from an event we had been discussing] that I came very fast, even though my new little toy isn't very strong. But I like it, Daddy. I love the velvety texture, and how the tip is flat so it presses perfectly on your little girl's clit. Plus it's so quiet! Which is at least partly connected to not being very strong. But it did the job, Daddy, because I was already so aroused, so I had a first little orgasm very fast, even before I made it to the fancy vibration patterns.

I did think about being your toy, Daddy. Which made me even more aroused. And this time I didn't put too much lube on my little pink toy, so the friction was just right. It's so small and quiet I could easily carry it in a little purse, Daddy, in case of emergency...

So I had one little orgasm, Daddy, but didn't cry and wasn't ready to stop. So I switched to the big black vibrator that feels so good inside [the Sinfonia]. I lubed that up and slipped it in and used it to do Kegel exercises around. And then I fucked myself with it while it was buzzing away, knowing that I'm your pussy and I was created to be used, to be fucked, and this vibrator is perfect for fucking myself, Daddy, being shaped sort of like a curved ice cream cone, except velvety smooth and elegantly black. So I slid it in and out of me, and then took it out and pressed the buzzing tip against my clit and came again. Though again, Daddy, not a giant body shaking orgasm. And no crying.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

And so it was.

So when I'm feeling particularly sweet and soft and pink, I just might reach for Kiki. because there's something about her, some indefinable personality, that makes me want to say "Come, Kiki. Come kiss my clit."

Masturbation mania (14) - LELO's young, cute bargain line

 "Look, Daddy! Isn't it cute?"

Naked, used, I held out the hand that cradled the small, hot pink vibrator.
He eyed it dubiously.

"Very cute, my pet."

He paused.

"But aren't you afraid it might get lost?"

"Oh no, Daddy!
It doesn't go inside.
It's for my clitoris!
It's got this nice flat top that nestles up against it.
And feel it, Daddy!"

For one of the very few times in our relationship, the sadist did what I said, extending his hand to stroke the soft pink velvety silicone of my sweet new toy.

"You're right!"
Why did he sound surprised?
"Very soft."

"So may I masturbate, Daddy?
May I try it out?
For your pleasure, of course.
I'll think of you
and cum for you

and send you a full report."

"Yes, mt pet.
You may masturbate."

And with that, he left.

As I've said a few times before, I have this thing for LELO sex toys. The design, the packaging, the fact that they're made in Sweden... I have this thing for them, but I don't have a single one.  They're expensive. Too expensive of course for me to buy, and too expensive for EdenFantasys, generous as they've been, to send me for review.

So I continue my unrequited lust.

Recently, however, LELO came out with a new line of toys, called PicoBong. Don't ask me why "PicoBong." Who am I to try to penetrate the minds of marketers? The point is, they are trying to appeal to "a younger clientele at a more affordable price point." Personally, I think they're trying a bit too hard on the dedicated website, whose atmosphere is quite different from the elegance of the LELO site. But the idea is a good one. Not everyone can shell out a hundred bucks for a silicone orgasm inducer, as much as some of us may want to.

Hence, PicoBong.
Small devices.
No fancy packaging.
No recharging.

On the other hand, you do get my main requirements of safe, velvety silicone, stunningly quiet operation, thoughtful design, and - let's not forget - an orgasm. At least for me.

My chosen introduction to this cheaper, snappier incarnation of LELO was the Kiki C-Vibe. Since clitoral vibration is my best route to an orgasm, I'm always up for exploring new clit vibes. And it did look awfully cute. Plus I knew right off that the flat tip was a good design choice.

Ketzel thought it was cute, too.

 Kiki is the first toy she wanted to play with.
She batted it around like a toy mouse.
So we both enjoyed it!

There was one thing about Kiki I knew right off that I'd enjoy. When she arrived (and how could such a cutie not be a "she", no matter what the marketers named her), I immediately stuck in a battery to be sure she worked. *A* battery. One little battery. One very little battery. One little triple A battery. How much noise can a single AAA battery make?

Not much.
Not much at all.
I finally had a truly quiet vibrator.

Of course, as those of you with quick minds have already figured out, how much power can one AAA battery produce?

Not all that much here, either.
Kiki is a very gentle vibrator.
Which is fine for my delicate clit.
But not necessarily for everyone's.

Still, I did cum.

How much was due to still feeling the sadist's nakedness next to mine? And to his scent and his power lingering in the air of my bedroom and the blue cotton of my sheets? And to the time I had spent serving his needs while my own arousal served only to fire his?

Who can say... but it was the second time I tested it, which wasn't right after a visit, that Kiki quickly made me cum on her own.

Summary: this 62-year old sadist's pet will be happy to adopt youth-oriented PicoBong Kiki as a pet of her own. And come back Hallowe'en night for the lab reports I made to the fiend to find out if she'd be a good addition to your own menagerie.

Pussy on stilts

I bought heels today.
2 pairs of 3 inch heels.
This is a big deal for me.
I don't wear heels.

Well, I do have one pair I wear occasionally.
But they're Dansko's.
The people who also make my clogs.
They're not very high and they're pretty cute.

But he said I have to wear heels.
For a special occasion.
And that won't be the last time I wear them.
Though maybe the last time I wear them with anything else, he said.

Luckily, I was already at the thrift store when the order came down, and within 20 minutes of receiving the message I had found 2 pairs that looked as if they've only been worn once. The tops are all thin straps, so my toes don't suffer the usual feeling of confinement. Except for my occasional foray in clogs, I almost always wear Birkenstocks, either sandals or closed shoes, so my toes are used to spreading out. My toes are used to being happy. Which makes it hard to find shoes that have enough room for them. An array of skinny straps solves that problem.

They do NOT solve for a lack of cork in the sole. The heels on both pairs are relatively solid, so I should manage to walk without immediately falling over, but the soles are very thin and merely trying them on as I stood there in the thrift store made my feet hurt.

The man is truly a sadist.
Though I doubt he has any idea how uncomfortable they are.
Not that he cares, of course.
And neither should I.
If it turns him on,
if it amuses him,
if it arouses him
to see his little pussy in heels,
then so be it.

But I'll have to walk very slowly.
Carefully.
As if my ankles were shackled.

Makes my pussy twitch just to think of it.

Another way to be chained...

I will love suffering for him.

How Can I Keep from Smiling?

Damn.
I did it again.
And I was reminding myself not to!

Smile, that is.
I smiled when he arrived.

Not at first.
He came in the door and I stood there naked and adoring.
Not smiling.
Feeling his eyes inspect me.
Approve of me.
A brief smile graced his lips and was gone.
His smile was gone and I was lost.
Because my mouth couldn't keep from responding to his.

It was just a small smile!
And was gone as fast as his as I realized what my mouth had done.
How my mouth had betrayed me.

Of course, he saw the smile.
And saw the Oops! in my eyes.

No.
He didn't beat me.
He said nothing.
Not until I mentioned it myself at the end of his visit.
He could have done something.
But that's not where he wanted to go this time.

On the other hand, he did spank me.
Three times, I think.
Plus some occasional swats here and there.
Delicious.
Perfect.
With a later one that was quite hard but didn't really hurt.
I could feel that the impacts were quite hard, but they didn't hurt.
They just took me deeper and deeper into that place...

And now, hours later, I'm still all floaty and soft.

And very happy.

A perfect autumn day for a walk along a wooded, creek-side trail.
Alone.
And yet not.

He's always with me.
I always feel him with me.
I walk beside the creek and he is with me.

I talk to him in my head.
Especially when I'm out walking.
And now and then I stop and send him a message on my phone.
When the thoughts become too big to stay inside my head.

He rarely answers.
But I know he's with me.
I know he hears the soft whispers in his ear.
I know they make him smile.
And sometimes his cock will smile, too.

All along my walk were people walking their pets.
On leashes.
Dogs.
There could have been the other kind of pet, too.
My kind of pet.
But if I did pass any, they weren't on leashes.
Not physical ones, anyway.

I was on a leash.
I am always on a leash.
A chain.
The sadist holds one end in his hand.
The other end is locked around my neck.
Always.
Hard steel links that could be the softest silk.
Wherever I am
wherever he is
he holds me on his leash.

Exactly where we both want me to be.

This is not something I do.
This is what I am.
Deep inside and all over me,
this is what I am.

He is my life.
Everything else is secondary.

Well...
maybe not the cats...

Trapped

I learn this lesson again and again.
Each time there's a struggle.
A chasm.
A blow-out.
Each time he scares me by what is required.
Each time I scare him that I don't really mean it.

It truly is not a game.
It is very much for real.
I do belong to him.

There is no escaping it.
For either of us.

Ever.

Prioritizing

It's hard to get up enthusiasm for the hunt for a proper full-time paying when I know that landing one would mean giving up my ability to serve the sadist whenever he wanted me.

We've been so spoiled this last year.
Very spoiled.

How I do love you, Daddy!

When nice means so much more than "nice"

It was nice, he said.
We don't do nice, he said.
And yet, it was nice.

Who knew that nice could mean so much?
That nice could give him such a smile?
That nice could bring us oh so close?

I was his pet today.
And his sweet, cocksucking little girl.
But there was something more.
Something rare.
At times...
and under it all...
dare I say?

We felt like lovers.

Not two people in love.
I would never say that.
Although I do love him.
You know that - and he knows it, too.
But like lovers.

Hours and an orgasm later, I still feel so soft.
So gentle.
So cared for.
So appreciated.
I feel his nakedness next to mine.
I see his smile.

And I hear the welcome ferocity of his voice as he declared:

"You belong to me."

If it isn't one thing...

I had a cold.
And was supposed to be out of town anyway.
So I didn't get to see the fiend on Tuesday.
And he didn't get to see if his bite left a scar on my butt.

And then he said he could come by Saturday afternoon.
Meaning yesterday.
And I was so happy.
Cause I missed him

And I still miss him.
Because as I was giving Marko breakfast...
I realized I was sick.
Again.
Damn.
And he's not one of those guys who never catches things.
So an hour or two before he was due to arrive, I had to cancel.

The good news was that I could watch the Michigan-Michigan State game.
The bad news was that we lost.
"We" being Michigan.
I don't know why I thought it would be different this time.

Plus...
and this is both good news and bad news -
I evicted my current renter.
Well, told him he had to move out.
I have to give him a month unfortunately.
Wish it could be right away.

It's a bunch of things. Officially, it's because I had advertised for a non-smoker and a few days after he got here I knew for sure that he smoked. Not in the house - he wouldn't dare - he KNOWS I didn't want a smoker so he was hiding it. But the smell comes in with him, sometimes strong enough that it sets me coughing. And of course it clings to his clothes, so transfers to other things.

Now aside from not wanting a smoker living here, there's the fact that he lied by implication in answering an ad that specified non-smoker and not revealing that he was one. But there's also his general mental and emotional state, and the fact that he lives a vampire's schedule. I need someone here with energy. And happy vibes. Someone with a regular life, who gets up in the morning and goes to work and goes to sleep at night and provides an atmosphere that will stimulate me, especially during the dark months. This guy seemed like good company at the beginning - and he was VERY cooperative about clearing out on Tuesdays so I had full use of the dungeon when the sadist came to visit - but I could feel that he was disintegrating. And that it was having a bad effect on me.

So - and here's where I'm very proud of myself, which somewhat makes up for renting to someone with clear red flags which I managed to ignore - rather than trying to stick it out for a year, or trying to make him miserable enough that he would want to leave, I spoke up and told him it wasn't working out and -

And at that point he made an angry comment and stalked off downstairs.

I mean really.
He's the one who misrepresented himself on a number of points.
And obscured other things.
And implied that he was a non-smoker when he wasn't.

(Note: I'm not making a value judgment about smokers here, folks, so those readers who do smoke should please not feel defensive. But I have asthma and a sensitive nose and it's my house and I have a ridiculously hard time with even third-hand smoke. )

So I gave him a month and he's trying to find a new place, but he'll be out whether or not he does. He's got a mother around here he could crash with if necessary. From things he said, I think she doesn't think much of his dependability, either.

The sad thing is that he's been good for the cats. They've calmed down a lot since he moved in. And Marko adores him. Go figure.

As for the next housemate - no decisions until I've thought about it for at least a day. Even if it means I lose a prospect. I need time for those doubts in the pit of my stomach to worm their way up to my foolish brain.

Coming Out - but only so far

It's National Coming Out Day.
So I came out.
Sort of.
Part way.

A lot of my friends and "friends" already knew that I'm bi.
Some didn't but wouldn't really care one way or another.
I do have some ethnic friends who didn't know.
Attitudes in those circles aren't always so open.
But now they know.
That I'm bi.

I posted it on my Facebook page. It's a rather impassioned statement denying some myths about bisexuals and saying that I'm one. A friend shared it as her status and now I'm curious to see how long it takes to go around the world and back to us...

But I didn't tell everything.

A Famous BDSM Author has turned up in town and joined my shul. Of course, the whole list of Facebook friends knows that The Author is kinky, and no one is surprised about the sexual orientation, either. Still, I was jealous, wishing that I, too, could announce that I was kinky along with everything else.

But I didn't.
I don't.
Even though being submissive is far more for me than sex play.
It isn't play at all.
It's who I am.
How I am.
Whom I love.

So why is this so different from being bi or lesbian or whatever?
Partly because it just feels more... personal.
And partly because people would worry about me.

We've come a long way in our attitudes towards sexual orientation. But BDSM? A joke. Something to be sneered at, or to crop up on mainstream sex toy websites as pink furry handcuffs. Something really sick. Pink furry handcuffs? They might tease me. A certifiable sadist who leaves his knife in the car to protect me from himself?

What do you think?

So I made a big bold statement about bisexuals, which was in fact a really good thing to do. And it was good to be part of the stream of statements on this day - especially as I've never done it before. But I knew I was holding things back.

And I wish I didn't have to.

From behind the gauze curtain, the naked silhouette speaks

She confesses.
The title of this post means nothing.
But I wanted something more creative than"Update."
Or "Yes, I'm still here."

There's been this and that.
A cold.
Yom Kippur.
Continued cautious work on our relationship.

I was supposed to have been heading north this weekend on a ridiculous task for my parents, but happily my participation has been cancelled for a variety of reasons. However, that meant the fiend had not set aside time for a visit tomorrow - which is just as well as he is one of the few men I know not to claim that he never gets sick. So he wouldn't have come anyway. I don't know if he can manage a visit on any other day this week.

Things are still in one of their periodic states of flux. He is feeling sensitive, I think, and has told me to avoid words that imply ownership. So I address him as Sir and as Daddy. I am still his pet. I am still his little girl. There is still a struggle over one particular issue.

Leading up to Yom Kippur, I was very penitent and distressed at my role in our upheavals. He said I had nothing to atone to him for. I was touched. We both struggle - with what we feel, with what we expect, with what we hope for, and with who we are. I'm starting to believe those struggles will never end. Sometimes a hard steel wall comes down in front of my feelings, and I imagine myself walking away.

Eventually, always, I realize I can't.

I am who I am now because of him.
Because he freed me to be myself.
Because my service gives me strength.
Because he believes in me and wants me to believe in myself.

Yom Kippur was wonderful. All the High Holy Day services were particularly meaningful this year, on both a spiritual and a personal level. There was a theme of doubt and questioning and struggle and faith. Elie Wiesel said that without doubt there could be no faith. A new friend - a Jew by Choice (one of many in our GLBT congregation) - said that when she converted she was asked all sorts of questions but never whether she believed in God. As someone who is extremely uneasy about this whole God business, I found the whole discussion very comforting and accepting.

And as I write about it now, I find reassurance on a personal level as well. Perhaps the doubts, the struggles, with respect to exactly what the sadist sees me to be and expects me to do, perhaps these recurring upheavals make me stronger. Make my submission stronger. I am continually renewing the covenant. My submission, my devotion, my obedience, my service - none of this is taken for granted.

I suffer.
I struggle.
And when I kneel,
when I serve,
I yield with a clear mind
and a focused will.

Meanwhile, the sun returned.
And stayed out for days.
Where there is sun, there is hope.

There is also a scab on my left butt cheek from where the fiend bit me last week. We both hope it will leave a scar.

Thank you, Steve Jobs

This blog is written on a MacBook Pro.

Anger vented, pet protected

One of my favorite lines from my story You awake ahead of the alarm (printed in M. Christian's anthology Best  S/M Erotica Vol. 3) is this:

She has no gradations of grief at disappointing you. Any failure feels like the end of the world to her.

This is horribly, unfortunately true. I am terrified of failure because I'm terrified of rejection. That by not being good enough I won't be wanted. That one way or another, I will be shut out. As I beg the sadist whenever we have one of our episodes: "Please don't send me away."

I trace this back to my parents. Which is a whole other story that I won't go into. But I realized last night that I developed a very strong fight or flight instinct. And the flight part manifests itself in two ways: as a physical urge to leave, quit, get out, give up... and as a flight to inner safety, behind a strong wall that locks away any feelings.

This, in some ways, was the scariest part of this little episode. I shut down inside. I stopped having any feelings for him - or rather, I walled them off so I thought they had gone. I thought - all right then, I'm not what he wants me to be, I can't be, I never was. I won't walk away from him, but if he sends me away I'll be relieved. Because I can't stand disappointing him.

But - with him - it never ends up that way. Even the separation early in our first year... I had never meant for it to be over then. I merely misunderstood, and was angry, and then he... well, obviously we made it through that.

Tuesdays are his usual day with me. He was curt this morning. Short, economical e-mails relative to his plans. The first was but 3 words. And then he told me to take the cane, the paddle, the wooden spoon, and the chain outside and lock them up in my car.

You see?

He does protect me!

Besides, he has ways to hurt me far more powerful than implements of pain.

He has words.

He has silence.

We had a lot of time.

And we worked our way through.

He even gave me the gift of what could almost be termed an apology.

He also left a very serious bite mark on my left butt cheek.

(Again, he looked after me, advising me to cleanse it. I wiped it down with rubbing alcohol. It stung, so I knew I was doing the right thing. Then I coated it with antiseptic ointment and covered it with a bandage. Human bites do carry a danger of infection, and a visit to the doctor for treatment of a big butt bite would be highly embarrassing...)

The last couple of months have been hard on both of us. He's been under a lot of stress from many sources. One thing ends, another immediately erupts, and then something else lands on top of it all. Thinking about it dispassionately, I'm not surprised we had a blow up on Sunday.

As for me... well, we've had 2 months of rain. Two months of rain with sun promised in just another few days and then it would be pushed back and pushed back and pushed back...

Finally.

Today.

It arrived.

Autumn.

Sunny and cool and dry.

For at least a week.

I am sorely tempted to shout "Praise be to God" even though - if I believe in God at all, which isn't quite certain - I don't believe in that sort of God. But in this case... well it feels like credit ought to be apportioned somewhere.

The point is that 2 months of rain when you have SAD and are still supposed to be recharging your personal solar battery is NOT A GOOD THING. I've been struggling. Concentration has been shaky at best, moods not all that firm, and my ability to think minimal. 

Plus the issue is a persistent one. This won't be the last time we'll bump up against it. If only we could keep from reacting on such a deep emotional level! 

Still, we made it through. And at the end, as we talked about ordinary things, he enthroned in the Eames chair and me, still naked, sitting on the floor at his feet with my head resting on his right knee, I felt the gentleness of his hand stroking my hair and the love flowing back through me and knew that I couldn't make him so angry if I didn't also make him feel so good.

Is there a schedule for these upheavals?

No longer angel

no longer slave

I fold my useless wings

and mourn the broken chain.

Happiness eludes me.

I smile at ghosts of flowers

that whip around and slash my face with thorns.

Someone.

Please.

Give me a map.

Or maybe I’m deluded

and there is no path here after all.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

There are issues. A standing, recurrent issue. It comes up again every so often. As it did this weekend. I keep disappointing him. And then we slowly work our way back, until things seem more glorious than ever, and then he again starts thinking about the part that doesn't meet his expectations, and grows angry, and nothing I can say will make it right. And then the cycle resumes. But it's wearing me out.

Or maybe it's just that it feels like it's been raining for 2 months now.

Masturbation mania (13) - Yielding to the elegant Sinfonia

Here, in part 2 of my review of Close2You's Sinfonia g-spot vibrator, is a purely subjective evocation of a delicious masturbation session as reported to the sadist. You can read Part 1 of my review here, which, while not totally objective, at least includes some solid details. And don't forget that if you check out the Sinfonia (or any other sex toy) on EdenFantasys' website, they have a very handy comparison tool to help you choose between different items. I use it myself when choosing which of several options I want to review next.

Before proceeding, I should note that I had to work very hard to get the above shot. The cats have been showing very little interest in my goodies, but at least Ketzel, despite her boredom, was willing to return to the box again and again when I called her. She did, however, show a distinct preference for having the top of the box closed.

And now, here is what happened the second time I gave myself to the elegant and alluring Sinfonia, as related to my Master in a series of in-flight messages....
~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I'm horribly aroused, Daddy, so I'm going to masturbate now.

I've laid out my chosen toys. I seem to have a standard array now, Daddy. The pink clitoris vibrator (what's it called? Oh yes, the LAYAspot). My beloved little lavender Meany - short and stubby and sweet and wonderful. And then whatever new thing I have.

In this case, that classy black and grey Sinfonia.

Last time I was so desperate I couldn't pay attention to the different vibration patterns. I wonder what will happen this time...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Oh, Daddy...

I started with the pink one, holding it against my clit where it's buzzing gently at the very lowest setting... and my pelvis is tipping up while my pussy searches for your cock.

I love when I feel your cock just grazing my clit and labia, Daddy.
I hunger for your cock, Daddy.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I turned the setting up, Daddy, and now there's the feeling of being whipped, with a single thin lash landing straight across my butt hole.

Not a fantasy, Daddy.
Purely a sensation.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I lubed it up and slid it in and ohhh.... it felt so incredibly good, my Master. And for a while I didn't turn it on, just did Kegel exercises around it. And then I turned it on, and it started buzzing inside me, and I kept saying out loud Oh God Oh God Oh God... because of how wonderfully good it feels... and then I found myself wondering how I would respond to the cane if I had the Sinfonia buzzing away inside me and then I thought uh-oh I shouldn't tell you that but I had the thought so I couldn't not tell you.

And now I think I won't write again until after I cum.

Except that I feel you watching me, my Master, and had that feeling of objectification again... and of someone standing over me... watching me masturbate...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ohhh, Daddy...

Thank you, my Master.

I just wish there had been more time... it felt so wonderful... and my reactions were so powerful... if you had been watching you would have received the gift of a symphony of moans and whimpers and grunts and then variations on the theme of breaths... and I had that same response as last time, Daddy, of feeling very objectified. Of things being done to me that I had no hand in... An image came of me bound to the bed with the beautiful black curve of a vibrator shoved up inside me and kept in place by surgical tape... a torture of pleasure while you watched and listened and took pictures and video clips and took notes on which patterns elicited what response...

I didn't have time to stop and write down which patterns had what effect, Daddy, but what I can say is that the effects were powerful. And then it was getting late so first I just fucked myself with it for a while on a plain vibration, and then I held the tip to my little butt hole... I think... I had trouble finding it and getting the tip in so I just held it kind of over where I thought it was. Maybe I should give up on the idea of a vibrating butt plug. I'm awfully small and tight.

Finally, I switched to the plush lavender Meany - inside me a little and also rubbed over my clitoris because I was aiming to cum. And I discovered by accident that I had forgotten that the Meany has different patterns, too! But because it's so plushy I don't think they are as powerful. That was a nice reminder, though. Mainly, I let it buzz away and rubbed it gently against my clit and had a lovely orgasm inside me... with the real feel of going up and over the waterfall. And then I cried a little and kept the Meany going and had a couple more small orgasms (I hope that was ok, Daddy?). And then I had to stop. I rested for just a few minutes and then got up to write you. Leaving just a little time to pull on my clothes, feed the cats, and run off to baby sit.

Thank you so much, Daddy.
This was most delicious.
I love love love this toy!

But nowhere near as much as I love you.

Masturbation mania (12) - Testing the elegant Sinfonia

Another winner.
A really big winner.

I feel almost worshipful about my new vibrator, the very elegant Sinfonia from Close2You, an upscale (but not high-end) German manufacturer of sex toys. The look, the feel, the simplicity of form... and that doesn't even get into my physical and emotional response! I'm drawn to it with an adoring lust...

They have a theme, this company.
A musical conceit.
Their toys have names derived from classical music.
Sinfonia.
Harmonia.
Allegro.
Legamento.
They're decorated with symbols from music.
The Sinfonia even looks somewhat like a bass clef.

I've been doing very well lately with the items my contact at Edenfantasys has been sending me to review. I've put a lot of thought into my choices, researching the options, and making my selections based on the steadily increasing knowledge of my body all this toy testing has given me. So it did sound as if I would enjoy the Sinfonia. However, I admit that the final choice was based on physical attraction.

I just loved the way the thing looked.

Elegant.
Truly elegant.

Oh, it had all the right specs: silicone (which I always specify now for its texture, safety, and ease of clean-up), waterproof, not uncomfortably fat, and theoretically relatively quiet.

But it's the look of the thing...

Now normally I don't choose black vibrators. I dunno... for some reason they don't appeal to me. Something scary about them. But this one... Elegant. I kept coming back to the word elegant. So I asked for the black rather than the rose. It reminded me of a tuxedo, such as a male classical musician might wear. (Not that a woman couldn't perform in tails. But it's not that common.) I was a little nervous about it. But when it arrived - in record turnaround time - I was glad I had been brave. because it was not scary at all.

Merely elegant.

The packaging didn't hurt. It's a very solid cardboard box with 2 drawers and a top that opens to reveal the Sinfonia nestled in its form-fitting bed. The second drawer has goodies. Useful goodies. Toy cleaner, a cock ring, lube... and best of all batteries (!!!) and a dark wine-colored velvet pouch! The batteries can't cost Close2You that much, but they are such a thoughtful addition that their presence made me immediately inclined to like the company. I love the box, but as my collection grows I find I'd rather have pouches in which to store my toys.

A note here on silicone toys. First, do remember that you should use ONLY water-based lube. Not silicone. And second, silicone can attract lint. Some more than others. So even though you have, of course, washed your mechanical friends before putting them away, it can often be a good idea to give them a quick rinse before playtime.

The Sinfonia is billed as a g-spot vibrator. As you can see, it curves up towards the tip. What I especially like is how it is very slender at that tip, growing steadily wider as you move to the base, which makes it easy to slip in but provides for very satisfying pressure near the pussy mouth. Yum. This is particularly good for someone tight like me.

I didn't even notice until I saw it pointed out in another review that there is a thin seam running up opposite sides of the shaft. I felt nothing, though, even without using a condom (an advantage of silicone toys). What I did feel was wonderful. So wonderful that my first trial was not a very observant one.

Here, then, are excerpts from the report I made to the sadist on that first occasion. As my regular readers know, I must always report to my Master any time I masturbate, as my pussy and my orgasms belong to him. Come back tomorrow for further experiences, which again demonstrate how well the Sinfonia is working as a member of my little chamber orchestra of instruments of pleasure.

In summary:

The Sinfonia?
Bravissimo!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

My housemate came home mid-afternoon, Daddy, so I thought maybe I'd wait till bedtime to cum for you. But the weather... it really made me want to crawl into bed, Daddy, and I wanted to feel close to you again by touching myself for you... and cumming for you.

So I gathered my toys together and selected my favorites: the short stumpy lavender one with the squooshy tip and the two-tone hot pink one that cups in my hand for doing nice things to my clit. And then I took out that new one - the elegant black and grey one.

I started with fingers, to feel my pussy all sweet and soft the way you felt it when you touched me.

I had turned on the elegant black toy, the Sinfonia, when I installed the batteries, so knew it was loud and strong. It didn't feel like something I wanted to start with. So I decided to warm up slowly and, as I said, used my fingers first. And while I was relaxing and softening, Daddy, my mind suddenly somehow connected with being spanked. And my pussy woke up.

Next came my pink clit vibrator. I've learned to pour lube on it, even though it doesn't go inside me, which has me liking it more than I did when I first tested it. I kept it on the first level and, again, just relaxed into it. So nice... such pleasure... sweet pleasure, Daddy... not urgent...

The little lavender Meany took over, still only on the first level. I can't remember if I put it inside me at all, or just ran it gently over my clit and labia. And this too, Daddy, was such sweet pleasure...

Then suddenly my pussy was wide awake, Daddy, and wanting... so I lubed up the elegant black Sinfonia...

Knowing it was loud, and that my housemate was downstairs, I waited until it was inside me to turn it on. So nothing distracted me from the pure sensation of its insertion.

It's a neat shape, Daddy. Curved, pretty narrow and nearly pointed at the tip, widening substantially as it continues to the base. It slipped in easily, just 2 tries to get it all the way in, and the bulk at the base provided such delicious pressure against the perineum. And then oh my, when I turned it on...

It's very buzzy, Daddy, a little harsh, as well as noisy, though not as bad inside me. And like the first toy I was sent, it has lots of settings. 3 levels, I think, of a straight vibration, and then all these different patterns.

For some reason or another, my Master, it had this very powerful mental effect on me. It made me feel as if things were being done to me, as opposed to my being in bed enjoying the pleasure you had granted me. It wasn't even a question of my fantasizing that. The vibrations just put me there. Which of course works very well with my psychology.

I was watching the time, Daddy, wanting a chance to nap after my orgasm before I had to go babysit, so I didn't linger too long on any of the settings. I chugged along from one to the other - and never made it to the end before I could feel myself getting very close.

Then I switched back to the little lavender Meany, because I was afraid the Sinfonia would be too harsh. Perhaps I wouldn't have if I had been alone in the house. But I wanted something right against my clit, and knew I'd be muffling the sounds of my cumming.

It was delicious, Daddy.
In two stages.
I came
and then I kept the soft lavender tip on my clit
and I came some more.

I cried softy,
and rolled over on my side,
and wished I was snuggled against you.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

[come back tomorrow for more...]