He smiled at the sight of her, kneeling there, fully exposed for his
pleasure. Her arms clasped behind her back thrust her tits forward and
her slightly raised chin exposed her neck. Her knees were parted,
exposing her cunt, and he could see that she was moist with need
already. His eyes roamed over her, taking in her quivering flesh, her
ragged breathing, her nipples that seemed to tighten as he watched.
He reached down, gathering her hair in his hand, slowly winding his
fingers until her head was tightly in his palm, and he lifted her,
bringing her neck to his mouth. He bit down on that tender place where
neck meets shoulder, eliciting a moan from her.
He turned, still holding her head and hair, and walked/dragged her to
the new bench he had built. He led her onto the bench, bending her
over it and began to fasten her down. Ankles were secured, legs quite
wide apart, then straps over each thigh. Another strap fastened her
waist down.
He placed her collar around her neck, and that too was attached to
the bench, in such a manner that her head was raised. He fastened her
forearms and wrists to the padded arm rest, then stood back to admire
his handiwork.
She was tethered, in doggie position, leaving every hole exposed. He
grinned, and grabbed the new ring gag he had purchased. He carefully
placed it in her mouth, then tied it securely behind her head and
attached the points at each side to the bench so that she could not even
wiggle her head.
"So, my little slut... can you guess what happens now?" he teased,
his hands roaming her body. She made little noises, which amused him
greatly. He placed an item in her hand, saying, "This is your 'red',
press this like so.." his fingers showed her how to press the gadget,
which elicited a loud and repeititive dinging noise, "and I will know
you have hit your limit. Press it now, if you understand me."
She pressed the button, let it ding a couple times then let go of the button.
"Good girl!" He grinned. He grabbed her vibrating toy, and rubbed
some lubrication onto it. He worked the toy into her cunt, then turned
it on. She began to make little sounds for him, half protest half
pleasure.
"Get used to it, miss... This bench is designed to hold such things."
With that gem of information he snapped a clamp around the base of her
toy, and adjusted a bar so that it would be held in place.
Then he adjusted another bar, this one with a small rubber cock, so that it was snuggly in her mouth...
"I want you to understand, my sweet slut, that each of your holes
will be busy at all times, until I decide to take you off this bench."
He grinned at her. "How lovely... every hole, just waiting for me to do
as I please."
He moved around her again, and began to rub lubrication into her
asshole, then worked a finger into her. He admired how her body
trembled, her muted groans and moans as he explored her ass with is
fingers, and mouth. Once her body was more receptive, he worked a butt
plug into her ass, and fastened that to yet another attachment point.
With each of her holes thus plugged, he began to spank her, slapping
her thighs and ass, pausing to grab her hair, bite her and play with her
breasts. Once her ass was a nice pink, he grabbed a tawse, and began
to work her flesh some more, each impact rewarded with more muted sounds
and whimpers from her.
Then he grabbed the Hitachi Wand, and placed that strategically so
that it would vibrate against her clit relentlessly. He turned it on
the low setting, then moved around to her face. He removed the mouth
dildo and before she could even gasp, slid his cock into her mouth.
He fucked her mouth, as she trembled, moaned and tried to buck, each toy
tormenting and pleasing her as his cock stroked her mouth and throat.
He slid out of her mouth and crouched down, wiping her tears, and
stroking her face as she moaned around the gag's ring. He replaced the
mouth dildo then returned to her ass, gently removing the butt plug.
He lubricated his cock, turned the hitachi on the high setting, and
worked himself into her ass, rocking against her as she clamped around
him.
The devious man smiled as he flexed his hips, working his well
lubricated cock in and out of her ass. "Such a good girl" he said,
pressing his thumbs into the pressure point on each buttock, causing her
to moan and wriggle. He could feel the beginning of her orgasm, her
internal muscles clenching, her legs tensing, and he moaned at the
sensation.
"That's right, cum for me" he encouraged as he rocked and thrust.
Her orgasm (and assgasms) left her mewling helplessly, her muscles
clamping rythmically down upon him, as he rocked within her, the wand
and vibrator stimulating her incessantly, the cock gag not able to
muffle her sounds entirely as she tried to thrash about.
He continued to thrust and rock, smiling at her distressed sounds for
a moment before he lowered the hitachi's settings. "No, my slut... we
are not done yet" he teased her as he continued to fuck her ass. His
hands stroked her skin, pinching, kneading, poking and caressing as he
and the various toys rode her. Before long he could feel her muscles
clenching again, and he picked up tempo to match her spasms.
Just as she came he jacked the hitachi back up to max and chuckled as
her body responded, clenching and releasing, her mewls of distress and
pleasure again rising in volume.
Her body continued to spasms, as he threw his own head back and
moaned, withdrawing his cock and ejaculating over her ass. He could see
her body continuing to spasms as he took a moment to enjoy his own
release.
"What a good little slut" He murmured, watching the spasms abate, her body still trembling, her moans sounding panicky.
"What's wrong girl?" he laughed.."are things getting sensitive?" His
fingers relubed her ass, and he pressed the butt plug back into place.
She moaned in frustration, body beginning to tense again.
"All three holes, till I am done, remember?"
She moaned again, piteously. "Just one more, that's a good girl." he
fondled her breasts and then picked up his crop. As he watched her body
stiffen and relax with the onset of yet another wave of orgasms, he
landed a sharp swat to one thigh, then the other. As she moaned and
wiggled, he layed two on each ass cheek.
He continued to beat her as she came, her body straining as she lay
there, helpless and lost to the sensations he provided. As her
trembling subsided, he reached down and wiggled the buzzing Hitachi,
grinning as she again made stressed noises. He tormented her for a
minute before finally turning it off. He made soothing noises as he
slowly removed the various toys, his hands caressing her, whispering
"good girl.. you did good"
He removed the O-ring, then began to slowly loosen the bonds holding
her to the bench. He massaged her stiff limbs, then uncurled her from
the bench and into his arms.
She snuggled into him and said in her most sated voice, "Thank you Sir."
He chuckled, "You are very welcome, miss."
She blushed, then giggled. "That is a mean piece of furniture Sir..."
"That?" he answered, "That is just a bench!"
Showing posts with label more spankings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label more spankings. Show all posts
Friday, 18 April 2014
Thursday, 4 April 2013
FHB gets Even
I quivered as he came up the steps, startling when he dropped
something on the counter, and again startling as he poked and grasped,
pressed against those damned pressure points, hands and fingers going
where he wished.
I moaned/whimpered as he prodded my rather (ummm) moist nether region, loving the appreciative sounds he was making and the utterly exposed feeling. Then I had a moment of panic when I realized I had forgotten the damned collar... Not sure if he forgot as well, or just decided to ignore the gaffe in light of my already stressed out state.
Then FHB ordered me up, as he drew me to my shaky feet. I helped him out of his clothes, and we chatted as he headed to shower. I quickly rounded up the mat, the keys to the toy closet (I tried for bratty and put a huge padlock on it the day before.. effort wasted as FHB didn't notice lol) and tried to wrap up a few study notes while I waited.
When FHB headed into our bath, I grabbed the key, and knelt, splayed forward, upon the bed, and waited, hands holding out the key.
MUCH later, FHB decided it was time to open the toy closet, which he communicated by yanking me to the edge of the bed and flipping me over in a smooth and caveman like motion. I lay there, feet touching the floor, hands in front of me, determined to be oh so good and just sink into the beating...
(I oh so love my beatings!!)
FHB apparently had other ideas..He fastened the collar around my neck (Why does that cause such a mix of "oh fuck" and "oh my"??) and sat beside me, one hand pressing me into the bed while the other rapidly and harshly warmed my skin. I was making all those protesting sounds and struggling to stay in place (and failing), half laughing, half whimpering when he picked up his damned flyswatter from Thorgiers That thing is a MEAN tool for warm up.. Particularly when it is being applied briskly and with non warm up force.
It was at this point that I started to figure out that a long luxurious beating was not what was in store for me. But a more ... aggressive sort of beating...
Which makes it even harder to deal with, for me. I get that half in subspace lack of cognition... mixed with a bit of "Is he wroth with me?" and the whole complex feel good, hurt feelings, desire, longing, foot stomping, pride hurt cuz struggling, glad its not easy, but I like my luxuriously long.. dammit... sort of mashup going on.
I have no real recollection of what all FHB was using after the flyswatter, a tawse (the freebee from Lupercalia.. I can't remember the store name, but I will update that when I remember.. it is incredibly stingy and makes a satisfying CRACK) that mean as hell rubber paddle and his oh so firm hands. I do know that I bucked hard enough that I got my toe whacked, which made FHB scold me (Which made me cry). I actually yellowed a couple times I think... I know that Sir had to hold me down fairly firmly at times... I have a rather vivid recollection of Sir's hand between my thighs, flooding me with humiliation over my incredibly wet to the knees state as he teased me horribly for it. (GAAWWWDDDDDD!!!!)
And no... none of that is punishment. That is just freaking amazing and wonderful fun. (for me).
The payback?
That was when I yellowed, sobbing, hating that damned rubber thing for making me beg, loving Sir for knowing that begging was the perfect speed for my angsty mood... and i felt him stand and relief coursed through me, my only thought was 'done... no more... done.. done done.." and suddenly a very sharp object was cutting me from shoulder to heel, over and over, as I squealed and begged, and pled and cried, That wartenburg thing SUCKS. I HATE IT!! Well... ok I love and hate it. I swear.. it is cutting me to ribbons and yet... not a freaking mark. NOT ONE!!!
So yes... two apples are paid for.. My apologies that the picture is so anti-climatic. Bug Firm-Hand-Buddha to post the pics of the marks from Luper-I really just don't mark up anymore....
Hopefully our stingray paddle shows up today!!
PS
I had issues sitting through my exam, my ass was so swollen after that my jeans creasing as I sat was incredibly difficult to bear. It was awesome.
xxoo to FHB
I moaned/whimpered as he prodded my rather (ummm) moist nether region, loving the appreciative sounds he was making and the utterly exposed feeling. Then I had a moment of panic when I realized I had forgotten the damned collar... Not sure if he forgot as well, or just decided to ignore the gaffe in light of my already stressed out state.
Then FHB ordered me up, as he drew me to my shaky feet. I helped him out of his clothes, and we chatted as he headed to shower. I quickly rounded up the mat, the keys to the toy closet (I tried for bratty and put a huge padlock on it the day before.. effort wasted as FHB didn't notice lol) and tried to wrap up a few study notes while I waited.
When FHB headed into our bath, I grabbed the key, and knelt, splayed forward, upon the bed, and waited, hands holding out the key.
MUCH later, FHB decided it was time to open the toy closet, which he communicated by yanking me to the edge of the bed and flipping me over in a smooth and caveman like motion. I lay there, feet touching the floor, hands in front of me, determined to be oh so good and just sink into the beating...
(I oh so love my beatings!!)
FHB apparently had other ideas..He fastened the collar around my neck (Why does that cause such a mix of "oh fuck" and "oh my"??) and sat beside me, one hand pressing me into the bed while the other rapidly and harshly warmed my skin. I was making all those protesting sounds and struggling to stay in place (and failing), half laughing, half whimpering when he picked up his damned flyswatter from Thorgiers That thing is a MEAN tool for warm up.. Particularly when it is being applied briskly and with non warm up force.
It was at this point that I started to figure out that a long luxurious beating was not what was in store for me. But a more ... aggressive sort of beating...
Which makes it even harder to deal with, for me. I get that half in subspace lack of cognition... mixed with a bit of "Is he wroth with me?" and the whole complex feel good, hurt feelings, desire, longing, foot stomping, pride hurt cuz struggling, glad its not easy, but I like my luxuriously long.. dammit... sort of mashup going on.
I have no real recollection of what all FHB was using after the flyswatter, a tawse (the freebee from Lupercalia.. I can't remember the store name, but I will update that when I remember.. it is incredibly stingy and makes a satisfying CRACK) that mean as hell rubber paddle and his oh so firm hands. I do know that I bucked hard enough that I got my toe whacked, which made FHB scold me (Which made me cry). I actually yellowed a couple times I think... I know that Sir had to hold me down fairly firmly at times... I have a rather vivid recollection of Sir's hand between my thighs, flooding me with humiliation over my incredibly wet to the knees state as he teased me horribly for it. (GAAWWWDDDDDD!!!!)
And no... none of that is punishment. That is just freaking amazing and wonderful fun. (for me).
The payback?
That was when I yellowed, sobbing, hating that damned rubber thing for making me beg, loving Sir for knowing that begging was the perfect speed for my angsty mood... and i felt him stand and relief coursed through me, my only thought was 'done... no more... done.. done done.." and suddenly a very sharp object was cutting me from shoulder to heel, over and over, as I squealed and begged, and pled and cried, That wartenburg thing SUCKS. I HATE IT!! Well... ok I love and hate it. I swear.. it is cutting me to ribbons and yet... not a freaking mark. NOT ONE!!!
So yes... two apples are paid for.. My apologies that the picture is so anti-climatic. Bug Firm-Hand-Buddha to post the pics of the marks from Luper-I really just don't mark up anymore....
Hopefully our stingray paddle shows up today!!
PS
I had issues sitting through my exam, my ass was so swollen after that my jeans creasing as I sat was incredibly difficult to bear. It was awesome.
xxoo to FHB
Wednesday, 20 February 2013
Luper Subspace
Even though my Sir, Firm-Hand-Buddha had played fairly hard upon my
ass and etc Friday night, by Sunday I had not a mark, which has been
something Firm-Hand-Buddha has heard a great deal of whining about.
I have a friend who is fairly new to the lifestyle and has that lovely
skin that marks beautifully, and I am jealous!! My marks these days
fade within an hour. This silly yearning for marks has
led me to do all sorts of silly things, from using exfoliating
cleansers on my ass to derma-abrasion... but to no avail. The skin of
my ass just heals like magic these days.
The dungeon was much busier this time (in comparison to Friday). Our favorite benches were in use, and Sir decided to forgo playing with his new wand. (Yes I was disappointed dammit!! But as a spank-a-holic I prevailed and did not drag my feet at all.. .much. Sir picked out a kneeling style bench, and kindly did not use any of the eye-bolts to restrain me.
He loosened my corset, quite a bit, which is usually a sign that this is going to be long and hard-otherwise usually it is just enough for me to bend. I love my corset, just in case anyone was wondering. I could see his boots, and reached as if to untie his laces, which of course got me that playful, "Don't think about it!" (Why do those words make me so wet??)
Sir's warm up was short and sweet, leaving my backside very warm and eliciting all sorts of blush causing sounds from me. I could clearly hear the conversation of the leather folk in front of me, which, for whatever reason, added to my head space. It was Swat! Smack! "Hmmm, How about the weather here? It's so windy" Smack! Moan, Blush, writhe. "Did anyone see.." I felt as if I was of no note, not important at all. Even when the comments may have been about me or Sir (or not) it was so indirect that I felt completely objectified. Not usually my thing, really, but this time, in this moment, it was perfect.
Again I was facing the crowd (was i the only one that noted that most equipment seemed to be this way this year? Am I the only one that likes to hide their face?). With all the over-stimulation of the weekend, between classes, the market, the hundreds of kink folk everywhere...well I was not finding it difficult to sink into that lovely cocoon of safe and yummy that some call subspace.
Sir, perhaps in response to how easily I was managing his initial erm high spirited swats, stepped up his game. I swear, the moment I was able to find my rhythm, there he was smacking harder, faster or in more tender spots. My hands were not fastened and I writhed, often grabbing his leg in a desperate measure to be able to not make a spectacle of myself. I would sink into that yummy space and Sir would grin evilly (or so I imagined) and pull me up just a bit.. I would finally sink again and he would up the ante and yard me out again. I have no idea how I managed to not lift off that bench.
And so we danced.
He led the dance with his implements, working my skin and nerves to exhaustion. His hand swinging to a beat only he can hear as he led me through bucking, moaning, begging, and yes giggling. The music added an element to the dance in a very ... strong way.
He beat me and my body begged for more. He drew from me sounds, motions and emotions-I could feel myself being molded-filling with a need to just be all he demanded. In that instant I submitted in a way I had never really felt before. This was no longer about my love of spankings (etc), but this was about us. About him. About giving over myself. It was a beautiful moment.
My body followed his without my willing it. I bucked for him, I squirmed for him, I raised my hips to help him. i quivered, I sobbed, I moaned. I didn't give a flying shit if I looked ridiculous, sounded pathetic... all I cared about was the dance, his lead, the moment.
I have no idea what this was in reality, but from where I was it felt frantic, as if the speed and force were so erratic and out of control, as my hands scrambled for a way to anchor me, my hips lifted and churned... I was certainly frantic. Nothing hurt but I felt as if I had become the dance-I was the the tempo.
Then things slowed. Time fragmented as I felt ebony against my skin. i could hear my breathing, my whimpers, and every inch of my skin tingled and pulsed as he pressed that dreaded and loved paddle against my skin. My hips lifted, my body melted, relaxed.
The impact streamed red, and I begged, writhed, found my center and again lifted, and melted. And again. And again. And I had not vision of this ever ending, no concept for anything but this incredible dance. My world had become narrowed down to this sensation, the feel of my bruised flesh yeilding...
I could hear Sir talking to me, his voice wrapping around me and i became aware that I was sobbing.. Tears streamed my face. My first coherent thought was "Oh my gawd.. Am I drooling?"
As I came back into my head, Sir's hand stroking my back and face, I finally clued in to what he was saying. I don't remember the phrasing, but he had drawn blood.
With my inner voice screaming hysterically (I hate blood, no blood nooooooooooo) I calmly asked how bad it was. (points for me!). He had just smacked a welt, and it was merely a droplet. I had no idea what the dungeon protocol for this was, so we agreed he should find the DM and find out. And get a band-aid.
So there i was, DM and Sir peering at my ass while I died a thousand deaths of embarrassment, and I look up and straight into a set of friendly eyes, watching with interest. i know we spoke, but high as I still was, and as red faced as I surely was, I remember not a word, other than he was amused and I laughed as well. All while my Sir and a man I barely met are poking at my ass.
Sir wrapped me up, helped me up and half carried me to a chair. By the time he returned with a band-aid i was hyper as hell, bouncing and giddy.
Thank you Sir, for taking me to new places. For understanding how to give me what I need and never making me feel like a freak. For creating this safe, and yes damn you sacred place where I am free to be me.
Thank you to those in the crowd that unwittingly added to my scene, bwahaha. And of course, thanks to the DM.
PS. It is 8 days later and I have some lovely marks still. While I get that I can't be playing like that all the time, (sigh) this made my day!!
The dungeon was much busier this time (in comparison to Friday). Our favorite benches were in use, and Sir decided to forgo playing with his new wand. (Yes I was disappointed dammit!! But as a spank-a-holic I prevailed and did not drag my feet at all.. .much. Sir picked out a kneeling style bench, and kindly did not use any of the eye-bolts to restrain me.
He loosened my corset, quite a bit, which is usually a sign that this is going to be long and hard-otherwise usually it is just enough for me to bend. I love my corset, just in case anyone was wondering. I could see his boots, and reached as if to untie his laces, which of course got me that playful, "Don't think about it!" (Why do those words make me so wet??)
Sir's warm up was short and sweet, leaving my backside very warm and eliciting all sorts of blush causing sounds from me. I could clearly hear the conversation of the leather folk in front of me, which, for whatever reason, added to my head space. It was Swat! Smack! "Hmmm, How about the weather here? It's so windy" Smack! Moan, Blush, writhe. "Did anyone see.." I felt as if I was of no note, not important at all. Even when the comments may have been about me or Sir (or not) it was so indirect that I felt completely objectified. Not usually my thing, really, but this time, in this moment, it was perfect.
Again I was facing the crowd (was i the only one that noted that most equipment seemed to be this way this year? Am I the only one that likes to hide their face?). With all the over-stimulation of the weekend, between classes, the market, the hundreds of kink folk everywhere...well I was not finding it difficult to sink into that lovely cocoon of safe and yummy that some call subspace.
Sir, perhaps in response to how easily I was managing his initial erm high spirited swats, stepped up his game. I swear, the moment I was able to find my rhythm, there he was smacking harder, faster or in more tender spots. My hands were not fastened and I writhed, often grabbing his leg in a desperate measure to be able to not make a spectacle of myself. I would sink into that yummy space and Sir would grin evilly (or so I imagined) and pull me up just a bit.. I would finally sink again and he would up the ante and yard me out again. I have no idea how I managed to not lift off that bench.
And so we danced.
He led the dance with his implements, working my skin and nerves to exhaustion. His hand swinging to a beat only he can hear as he led me through bucking, moaning, begging, and yes giggling. The music added an element to the dance in a very ... strong way.
He beat me and my body begged for more. He drew from me sounds, motions and emotions-I could feel myself being molded-filling with a need to just be all he demanded. In that instant I submitted in a way I had never really felt before. This was no longer about my love of spankings (etc), but this was about us. About him. About giving over myself. It was a beautiful moment.
My body followed his without my willing it. I bucked for him, I squirmed for him, I raised my hips to help him. i quivered, I sobbed, I moaned. I didn't give a flying shit if I looked ridiculous, sounded pathetic... all I cared about was the dance, his lead, the moment.
I have no idea what this was in reality, but from where I was it felt frantic, as if the speed and force were so erratic and out of control, as my hands scrambled for a way to anchor me, my hips lifted and churned... I was certainly frantic. Nothing hurt but I felt as if I had become the dance-I was the the tempo.
Then things slowed. Time fragmented as I felt ebony against my skin. i could hear my breathing, my whimpers, and every inch of my skin tingled and pulsed as he pressed that dreaded and loved paddle against my skin. My hips lifted, my body melted, relaxed.
The impact streamed red, and I begged, writhed, found my center and again lifted, and melted. And again. And again. And I had not vision of this ever ending, no concept for anything but this incredible dance. My world had become narrowed down to this sensation, the feel of my bruised flesh yeilding...
I could hear Sir talking to me, his voice wrapping around me and i became aware that I was sobbing.. Tears streamed my face. My first coherent thought was "Oh my gawd.. Am I drooling?"
As I came back into my head, Sir's hand stroking my back and face, I finally clued in to what he was saying. I don't remember the phrasing, but he had drawn blood.
With my inner voice screaming hysterically (I hate blood, no blood nooooooooooo) I calmly asked how bad it was. (points for me!). He had just smacked a welt, and it was merely a droplet. I had no idea what the dungeon protocol for this was, so we agreed he should find the DM and find out. And get a band-aid.
So there i was, DM and Sir peering at my ass while I died a thousand deaths of embarrassment, and I look up and straight into a set of friendly eyes, watching with interest. i know we spoke, but high as I still was, and as red faced as I surely was, I remember not a word, other than he was amused and I laughed as well. All while my Sir and a man I barely met are poking at my ass.
Sir wrapped me up, helped me up and half carried me to a chair. By the time he returned with a band-aid i was hyper as hell, bouncing and giddy.
Thank you Sir, for taking me to new places. For understanding how to give me what I need and never making me feel like a freak. For creating this safe, and yes damn you sacred place where I am free to be me.
Thank you to those in the crowd that unwittingly added to my scene, bwahaha. And of course, thanks to the DM.
PS. It is 8 days later and I have some lovely marks still. While I get that I can't be playing like that all the time, (sigh) this made my day!!
Monday, 10 September 2012
Part 1 Shadowlane Spanking Party in Vegas, 2012
was still awake at 1 am, the early
morning of the first of September, trembling with excitement over the
upcoming trip to Las Vegas... It reminded me of Christmas Eve when I was
a very young girl... As I lay there trembling, trying so desperately to
sleep but way beyond too excited...
My Dom, Mr.Nab, had already dished out a PreVegasSettleTheFuckDownMiss sort of spanking, which did nothing to lower my giddy glee and anticipation of the fun to come. I have no idea how long I lay there beside him, hoping and hoping to get to sleep, but when that damn alarm went off at 430 am I was certainly feeling it.
We hustled through our morning must do's, dressing and loading the truck wtih my two bags (plus carry on, plus purse.. What can I say) and his one medium bag.. I left a thank you note for RK&f, twisted my hair into a clip and we stumbled out the door.
I had chosen to dress in a long skirt and tak top, with a lacey sweater... which I knew would be fine once we hit vancouver ,but in Edmonton is was freaking cold. I shivered miserably in truck as we made the 45 minute drive to the airport.
Mr. Nab expertly navigated the nearly deserted city, and we arrived at the airport with plenty of time. Still shivering like a nudist in a snowstorm I straggled alongside my Sir. As we entered the airport, I dug out our passports and our flight confirmation number and we attempted to check in at the computer checking station... The lovely machine promptly spat out my boarding pass, but the screen displayed this ominous message, "Mr. Nab's boarding pass cannot be processed here. Please check in at the counter".
We entered the long line, which to be fair we had to do to check out bags anyways. While we waited I asked, sweetly, if there was anything I should know. Mr. Nab gave me his 'not amused' look, which of course had me much cheered. At the counter the attendant professionally checked our bags and provided us with a boarding pass for Mr. Nab. I asked if there was an issue, and she calmly shared that while there was no issue, Mr. Nab was the proud winner of an enhanced pat down-ie: he had been randomly selected to go through enhanced measures at the international airport in Vancouver.
I tossed Sir a gleeful grin, opened my mouth and he said, "don't." Anyone that knows me also knows that telling me 'no' or 'don't' is not much of a deterrant... Needless to say I was giggling like a maniac..
We headed to the security checkpoint, me teasing Sir the entire way... "Not even there yet and you are getting some action!" I chortled. Mr. Nab, to his credit, is incredibly laid back and took my ribbing and the situation with a calm that I envy to no end. I am not sure if I am just that bratty, If my humor is that skewed or if I was just beyond tired and giddy, but the calmer Sir was, the harder I giggled.
It certainly did not help matters that when the TSA fellow scanned Sir's boarding pass he ALSO gave Sir a huge shit eating grin, and said, "Uh, you know you were randomly selected..?" Keep in mind that Sir is a Six foot tall very pale bald guy-he stands out. And the agent was this 5'9" (ish) wiry built, dark hair, dark skinned gentleman. So it was quite ironic, which tickled me to no end.
So there we were, Sir, my giggling self and the grinning TSA fellow. Although Sir gave the gent a wry smile and nod, he was less amicable in regards to my mirth. He marked me to the first set of tables at the screening area, bent my protesting and giggling self over the table and delivered a resounding volley of.....
Ok... that didn't happen... I mean, no spanking-the giggling did happen..
Regardless we managed to board our plane and arrived in Vancouver without any further fuss. We immediately headed to customs, where the border agent was humorous and entertaining as he stamped our passports. then we entered the security area for international travel, which had me giggling again. The actual pat down took perhaps ten seconds, it was nothing really, but it oh so amused the hell out of me.
The rest of our flight was peaceful, I am sure I slept a little. Watching that last stretch of scenery I was again terribly excited!! Almost there!!
Unfortunately, our misadventures had only begun. We landed without a problem, but while all my luggage arrived without an issue, Sir's bag did not. There was however, a bag on the carasoul that was the same bag, except a different colour. We reported to the Agent, and they admitted they did not knmow if the bag had been flagged. We left our information, and headed to the hotel.
We had been on the 'road' for 13 hours at this point., and Sir was not impressed with the idea of having to show up at the Shadowlane dinner in the clothing he had travelled in. So we checked into the hotel and walked to a 'nearby' set of shops.
I was wearing sandals, and by the time we arrived at the shops my foot had a HUGE blister... so I did what any girl would do! I browsed shoes. Sir was not able to find anything that impressed him clothing wise and we returned to the hotel.
Where I unpacked a little, changed (and got well and truly spanked) and we headed to the dinner.
Here is me in my corset, in Vegas
My Dom, Mr.Nab, had already dished out a PreVegasSettleTheFuckDownMiss sort of spanking, which did nothing to lower my giddy glee and anticipation of the fun to come. I have no idea how long I lay there beside him, hoping and hoping to get to sleep, but when that damn alarm went off at 430 am I was certainly feeling it.
We hustled through our morning must do's, dressing and loading the truck wtih my two bags (plus carry on, plus purse.. What can I say) and his one medium bag.. I left a thank you note for RK&f, twisted my hair into a clip and we stumbled out the door.
I had chosen to dress in a long skirt and tak top, with a lacey sweater... which I knew would be fine once we hit vancouver ,but in Edmonton is was freaking cold. I shivered miserably in truck as we made the 45 minute drive to the airport.
Mr. Nab expertly navigated the nearly deserted city, and we arrived at the airport with plenty of time. Still shivering like a nudist in a snowstorm I straggled alongside my Sir. As we entered the airport, I dug out our passports and our flight confirmation number and we attempted to check in at the computer checking station... The lovely machine promptly spat out my boarding pass, but the screen displayed this ominous message, "Mr. Nab's boarding pass cannot be processed here. Please check in at the counter".
We entered the long line, which to be fair we had to do to check out bags anyways. While we waited I asked, sweetly, if there was anything I should know. Mr. Nab gave me his 'not amused' look, which of course had me much cheered. At the counter the attendant professionally checked our bags and provided us with a boarding pass for Mr. Nab. I asked if there was an issue, and she calmly shared that while there was no issue, Mr. Nab was the proud winner of an enhanced pat down-ie: he had been randomly selected to go through enhanced measures at the international airport in Vancouver.
I tossed Sir a gleeful grin, opened my mouth and he said, "don't." Anyone that knows me also knows that telling me 'no' or 'don't' is not much of a deterrant... Needless to say I was giggling like a maniac..
We headed to the security checkpoint, me teasing Sir the entire way... "Not even there yet and you are getting some action!" I chortled. Mr. Nab, to his credit, is incredibly laid back and took my ribbing and the situation with a calm that I envy to no end. I am not sure if I am just that bratty, If my humor is that skewed or if I was just beyond tired and giddy, but the calmer Sir was, the harder I giggled.
It certainly did not help matters that when the TSA fellow scanned Sir's boarding pass he ALSO gave Sir a huge shit eating grin, and said, "Uh, you know you were randomly selected..?" Keep in mind that Sir is a Six foot tall very pale bald guy-he stands out. And the agent was this 5'9" (ish) wiry built, dark hair, dark skinned gentleman. So it was quite ironic, which tickled me to no end.
So there we were, Sir, my giggling self and the grinning TSA fellow. Although Sir gave the gent a wry smile and nod, he was less amicable in regards to my mirth. He marked me to the first set of tables at the screening area, bent my protesting and giggling self over the table and delivered a resounding volley of.....
Ok... that didn't happen... I mean, no spanking-the giggling did happen..
Regardless we managed to board our plane and arrived in Vancouver without any further fuss. We immediately headed to customs, where the border agent was humorous and entertaining as he stamped our passports. then we entered the security area for international travel, which had me giggling again. The actual pat down took perhaps ten seconds, it was nothing really, but it oh so amused the hell out of me.
The rest of our flight was peaceful, I am sure I slept a little. Watching that last stretch of scenery I was again terribly excited!! Almost there!!
Unfortunately, our misadventures had only begun. We landed without a problem, but while all my luggage arrived without an issue, Sir's bag did not. There was however, a bag on the carasoul that was the same bag, except a different colour. We reported to the Agent, and they admitted they did not knmow if the bag had been flagged. We left our information, and headed to the hotel.
We had been on the 'road' for 13 hours at this point., and Sir was not impressed with the idea of having to show up at the Shadowlane dinner in the clothing he had travelled in. So we checked into the hotel and walked to a 'nearby' set of shops.
I was wearing sandals, and by the time we arrived at the shops my foot had a HUGE blister... so I did what any girl would do! I browsed shoes. Sir was not able to find anything that impressed him clothing wise and we returned to the hotel.
Where I unpacked a little, changed (and got well and truly spanked) and we headed to the dinner.
Here is me in my corset, in Vegas
Tuesday, 15 May 2012
Minor Update
Soo... I have been pretty quiet lately, not posting much or as often.
Truth is, I have been busy, confused, and struggling to sort out how I feel about a few things. You see, I met this person... A wonderful guy really, who was supposed to fall under a 'hang out once in a while pal with play time' sort of category but morphed quickly into a 'hang out all the time pal who is also my Dominant' sorta category.
Not complaining, now that I have kinda wrapped my head around having a person in my life that I spend this much time with, but am not bonded to by any legal certificate (I really am terrified of marriage lol)...
So now, here I am, living a D/s lifestyle but from separate homes, (no shack up expectations!! how cool is that?) with someone who is being oh so respectful of all those minefields I have set to protect myself... Sometimes respecting them, and other times gently pointing out that they are no longer needed...
A bit scary. But yet... so not. And for once I really understand that relationships do not have to be built with forever in mind, but more with right now in mind, moment by moment. That I can grow within this, and that is ok. That I can grow outside of this and that too is ok. That friends can both play (bdsm) and play (sex) and still be friends.
So for now... assume that silence means I am busy learning more about who I am, what I want, what makes me tick and more about teh world around me and how I fit into it.
Hugs and Laughter,
Sunday, 29 April 2012
Accidental Submission
I am the only person who can choose, willingly and openly, to seek out a NSA (no strings attached) playmate and accidentally end up in what certainly feels like a very intense service to a Dominant.
It's accidental submission...
There I was, you see, wandering around, minding my own business, after some local and mild playtime (you know, some princessy spoiling, now that I am a high maintenance attention whore) and lots of spankings..Met a gent after some mild negotiating... very clear we both were.. NSA, not looking to just hook up-friendship, talking, cuddling yes please.. NSA NSA NSA (and yes!! I was thrilled!! I am not relationship material! I just am not!!)
And here I am three days later, sorta accidentally submitted to someone that sorta accidentally dominated, sorta accidentally for three days and now??
Now here I am, strangely unafraid, wierdly not too worried (HAHAHAHAHA where are those damned runners?) with only one little bitty spanking-and yet he has somehow become My Sir and I his sub..
There are phrases being used that should have me running like hell. (WHAT? I am NOT "A Sub" I just get kinda submissive when spanked...oh wait... there was no spanking to blame... )
Speaking of which.. Anyone that has spanked me, talked to me about spanking, read my writing or watched me get spanked knows that spanking just flat out does it for me. It just does.
I would have said, that spanking would be my pre-rquisite.. (hahah, I ammend that to say , I do and certainly have insisted that) That any playmate of mine had best be offering spankings... Yet... hours and hours of play later, I have had one very small spanking last night) from my Sir who has never had a gal over his knee (How can anyone who has NEVER played this way be so damned natural at it?) and I am still a smling, glowy mess.
Friend "So how was your non date?"
Me "It was quite yummy.. Kinda D/s...Well ok.. Very D/s"
Friend "oooh! Nice! Good Spanker?"
Me "Dunno.. Not sure it matters." *grinz*
Friend "um.. thought this was a spanking friend?"
Me " Me too, but I kinda accidentally ended up submissive to his dominant... "
Friend. ."What? Accidentally? You make it sound like you slipped off his lap and landed on a D/s contract."
Me. "...."
Thursday, 19 April 2012
Canes and Shock
Sorta Real, Sorta took some creative licence, different style of writing...
He stood, took me by the wrist and headed to the kitchen with me in tow...he reached my queen anne chair, pulled that out with one hand, sat down and drew my unresisting body over his knee...snugged me in and said, "mmm..nice view" (skirt was way short) which made me blush.
He swatted me for a bit..skirt sorta covering my butt...got bored of that after about ten minutes (me purring the whole time lol) so he drew my skirt up and stepped up the intensity..
He its a talker so the whole time he is"you have such an amazing ass...its that getting a little sensitive? No? Are you laughing you brat? hmm not laughing now...oh you are so wet ..what kind of naughty girl gets wet from getting a spanking?"
Just when I am starting to breath into every sting he yards be back to reality by winding his hands in my hair and lifting me til I am making eye contract and said..."do you know what wet...naughty...girls get??" And he grabbed his new strap...showed it to me....then scooped me in one motion (gasp from me..that startled eep sound that only girls make...) And carries me to the bed
Puts me on my knees feet towards him..lifts my hips and shoves me forward at the shoulders...which leaves me ass up, skin pulled tight cuz of position..hands splayed forward..so exposed..the whole time commenting on how incredibly accessible I am in this position, telling me how he can see by how wet I am that I am oh do not taking this seriously...petting my very warm butt, letting his hands just barely brush over yummy places, repositioning a little and then a rather holy shit swat with that strap..waits for me to breath..to move my hips that wee bit and again..each time waiting for my exhale before landing another slightly harder slightly lower...until I am hyper ventilating a little struggling to breathe it through..making mewly noises...then he stops..soothing his hands over my butt and back..telling me how good I have been..his sexy...petting and soothing..then starts again..bit more sexy petting..some fingers..some biting on my overly sensitive cheeks
And again sooth and repeat until I am an orgasm mess, my ass a glowing red, my body limp and submissive, being cuddled and soothed.
So I am laying there, scratches down my arms (I scratch myself, the sheets, legs, you, whatever is handy... to the point where I keep my nails VERY short because of it).. I come back to myself, and giggle, hearing my panting/whimpering noise I didn't know I was even making... awareness comes back in stages when you hit 'subspace' (google it) As I can focus a little I toss a smile at my friend, who takes that as "I am all good! Keep Going!" (which it was). He tosses a couple of pillows to the middle of the bed, talking to 'himself'
"Hmmm... Will those lift your little hips high enough do you think? perhaps another.... need a Verrrrryyyy goood view"... He plumps the pillows then slaps a freaking cane down on the bed right in front of my face.
Now.. this is where having a playmate that 'gets you' is oh so much fun.
I have a very love/hate relationship with canes.
There is that yummy tingling aprehension combined with anticipation...
Unlike spanking, though.. canes hurt. Not broken bones hurting, but still...
So just seeing it, hearing the sound it made going through the air and as it hits the bed, has me shook... Internal thoughts going in circles, do I trust him? Do I want to do this? oh I want to.. I am excited, my heart is pounding so hard, I can feel that tingle blush spread up my body (sigh, nice that I can't hide that feeling either... Someone is mean and calls it my girl version of a hardon... *sniff*) but I am scared too, or perhaps apprehensive is a better word. my skin dews up (nervous, who me?) and I can picture how UNDIGNIFIED this is going to be.. a Girl does not make only nice movements and sounds for a cane. This girl HATES being undignified...
I am so busy with my thoughts that I hadn't realized HE was talking to ME, until a hand snugs in the back of my hair, lifting me until I am upright, kneeling on the bed and stretched up and back slightly so he can make some rather serious eye contact.
"Do I have your attention now, little one?" he asks, with that smirk that guys get that is SO ANNOYING.. but I swallow that (don't lip of men with sticks, right?) and purr, "oh yes you have my attention Sir, you do!!" and I smile and blink, getting a throaty chuckle and a tightening of his grip on my hair which of course gets a small whimpery gasp sound.."Then you need to do what I asked, do you not?" He says in that low voice that means he is going to 'play the game'
See.. .I have learned something about sexually dominant men. There is a game they play called, "you can't win little girl, it is not fair, it is not supposed to be fair-that is the point"
The point is to hammer in that helpless feeling, to really get the gal's brain understanding that she is oh so not in charge right now. It is a fun game, lol. But I struggle with that childish need to say, in my best whiny voice, "nooooooo So VERY not FAIR!!!!!!"
But Play the Game I do so I answer, "I am very sorry sirrah, but I have no clue what you asked me, I was still blissed out from your attentions." (ha, i think to myself, make THAT my fault)
"Did I ASK you for your excuse, little one?"
(grrr... not fair not fair) "ummm.. no sir you did not."
"Then you need to do what I asked"
(hmm... should I guess? or sass?) "uh.. yessir.. I hear you" which has him releasing my hair so suddenly that I fall forward, in a very ungraceful heap on the bed and I HATE that and he knows it dammit... I gather my dignity, feeling that delightful mix of anticipation verses nervousness and decide sass is more fun. So I stand up stretch a little and head towards the the kitchen for water.
"guess again Angel" he smirks at me...
"umm.. bathroom break?" i suggest, just to stall for time
"not a chance sweetheart." he is openly chuckling now, the rat...
"ummmmmm...." I eye the bed and its evil pillows... no way no how am I putting myself there, just saying.. and I cast my eyes about looking for any stalling technique...
"I can see you have no intention of complying, so that means this goes from a 'fun' experiment to a more 'traditional' event... " He sighs in mock disappointment and I am not sure if I should say "yippee!!' or beg mercy...
"Get over those pillows, Angel." No joking now at all... and I try to make myself do it. I even manage to walk over there, my knees barely holding me up.. And I shoot him a glance.hoping he will just let me have my favored position- hell any position but not this one.
(to be clear, I am sure it is a lovely view for a boy... But it is a very very exposed view, as he insists that the upper hips are FORWARD over the pillows, which stretches teh skin very tight (makes it harder to be ok with the impact, too btw) and gives a view of all private bits.. I don't like it!!)
I can't make myself do it. I am frustrated with myself (just doooo itttt submit, you can do it) but I am mortified and my body doesn't respond to my internal dialogue.
He knows me well enough, I guess, cuz he just smiles at me and waits it out. When I glance at him beseechingly I see that he is being patient, but yet there is no room for compromise in his visage either.
Yet.. I just can't do it. So I stand there.
He grabs a water, sits down across from the bed on the bench and sighs. The sound of that sigh wounds me, as I value my ability to give that control over, and I know I am frustrating him that I still balk at anything I precieve as lacking grace, being so.. undignified... I argue with myself, remding myself that i will be horribly dissapointed if we end things like this, that I DO trust him, that I LOVE the spanking, And I am shaking and as red as a girl gets in motirification... But I drag myself over.
In true mind play fashion, he had to rearrange me a bit, making sure to really point out just how 'lovely ' it is to see an 'upturned and so very exposed backside positioned for so very many wonderful things" (sigh)... Then of course he has to talk non stop, about how he figures we should test some limits, seeings how he has not seemed to have 'made much of an impression' last time we played (no marks hahahaha..)
I argued a bit, but was already getting all subby (breathless, feeling helpless..)
I hear the swishy noise of the cane and tense with a whimper and he chuckles, which brings me out of it a bit.... and I start to breathe, relax muscles one at a time, letting my mind just go...
He started with little wrist flicks, which leaves a girl sting, but nothing worth kicking feet over, just prepping the nerves and just as I start to relax, thinking, I oh so can do this he lands a perfect line right in the middle.. And I am thinking... oooh that didn't hurt at all!! And I let out my held breath just as the sensory data hits my brain which of course makes me do a strange hissing squeaky noise.
Smart man, he waits.. lets me breath through it... then back to the tap tap tap then harder tap tap tap then harder yet TAP TAP TAP and I am wiggling and struggling to bring my bound hands back, strugling as the next line lands barely below the other..
And so it continues, until I am crying silent tears, wet to the knees, and so very very close to using my safeword...
And I find myself curled up against a strong chest, hair being smoothed, temple being kissed, lovely things being murmured about how awesome I am, how proud he is that I was able to conquer it, how exquistely gorgeous that was, you know.. pillow talk, lol Warpped in his arms still he turns me a bit, one hand checking to make sure no skin broken, tumbles us back in the bed, and snuggles me into his side, lots of cuddling and crooning.
Then.. after I am calm, giggling and talking, he asks me if I ahve "had enough" for now. I laugh. Give him wide eyes.. and say, "of course not! but not sure my ass will agree with me." He nudges me over to check again on skin and says... 'mmm .. nope you are done for today.. likely for a couple weeks" I laughed... all teh way up to seeing the bruises the next day... I guess he is laughing now..
*pout*
*addenendum Although this story has been oh so changed from real to what you read here, The caning did happen, the bruises are there and this glutton, less than a week later is already starting to gear up for another spanking...Exam stress, who me?
He stood, took me by the wrist and headed to the kitchen with me in tow...he reached my queen anne chair, pulled that out with one hand, sat down and drew my unresisting body over his knee...snugged me in and said, "mmm..nice view" (skirt was way short) which made me blush.
He swatted me for a bit..skirt sorta covering my butt...got bored of that after about ten minutes (me purring the whole time lol) so he drew my skirt up and stepped up the intensity..
He its a talker so the whole time he is"you have such an amazing ass...its that getting a little sensitive? No? Are you laughing you brat? hmm not laughing now...oh you are so wet ..what kind of naughty girl gets wet from getting a spanking?"
Just when I am starting to breath into every sting he yards be back to reality by winding his hands in my hair and lifting me til I am making eye contract and said..."do you know what wet...naughty...girls get??" And he grabbed his new strap...showed it to me....then scooped me in one motion (gasp from me..that startled eep sound that only girls make...) And carries me to the bed
Puts me on my knees feet towards him..lifts my hips and shoves me forward at the shoulders...which leaves me ass up, skin pulled tight cuz of position..hands splayed forward..so exposed..the whole time commenting on how incredibly accessible I am in this position, telling me how he can see by how wet I am that I am oh do not taking this seriously...petting my very warm butt, letting his hands just barely brush over yummy places, repositioning a little and then a rather holy shit swat with that strap..waits for me to breath..to move my hips that wee bit and again..each time waiting for my exhale before landing another slightly harder slightly lower...until I am hyper ventilating a little struggling to breathe it through..making mewly noises...then he stops..soothing his hands over my butt and back..telling me how good I have been..his sexy...petting and soothing..then starts again..bit more sexy petting..some fingers..some biting on my overly sensitive cheeks
And again sooth and repeat until I am an orgasm mess, my ass a glowing red, my body limp and submissive, being cuddled and soothed.
So I am laying there, scratches down my arms (I scratch myself, the sheets, legs, you, whatever is handy... to the point where I keep my nails VERY short because of it).. I come back to myself, and giggle, hearing my panting/whimpering noise I didn't know I was even making... awareness comes back in stages when you hit 'subspace' (google it) As I can focus a little I toss a smile at my friend, who takes that as "I am all good! Keep Going!" (which it was). He tosses a couple of pillows to the middle of the bed, talking to 'himself'
"Hmmm... Will those lift your little hips high enough do you think? perhaps another.... need a Verrrrryyyy goood view"... He plumps the pillows then slaps a freaking cane down on the bed right in front of my face.
Now.. this is where having a playmate that 'gets you' is oh so much fun.
I have a very love/hate relationship with canes.
There is that yummy tingling aprehension combined with anticipation...
Unlike spanking, though.. canes hurt. Not broken bones hurting, but still...
So just seeing it, hearing the sound it made going through the air and as it hits the bed, has me shook... Internal thoughts going in circles, do I trust him? Do I want to do this? oh I want to.. I am excited, my heart is pounding so hard, I can feel that tingle blush spread up my body (sigh, nice that I can't hide that feeling either... Someone is mean and calls it my girl version of a hardon... *sniff*) but I am scared too, or perhaps apprehensive is a better word. my skin dews up (nervous, who me?) and I can picture how UNDIGNIFIED this is going to be.. a Girl does not make only nice movements and sounds for a cane. This girl HATES being undignified...
I am so busy with my thoughts that I hadn't realized HE was talking to ME, until a hand snugs in the back of my hair, lifting me until I am upright, kneeling on the bed and stretched up and back slightly so he can make some rather serious eye contact.
"Do I have your attention now, little one?" he asks, with that smirk that guys get that is SO ANNOYING.. but I swallow that (don't lip of men with sticks, right?) and purr, "oh yes you have my attention Sir, you do!!" and I smile and blink, getting a throaty chuckle and a tightening of his grip on my hair which of course gets a small whimpery gasp sound.."Then you need to do what I asked, do you not?" He says in that low voice that means he is going to 'play the game'
See.. .I have learned something about sexually dominant men. There is a game they play called, "you can't win little girl, it is not fair, it is not supposed to be fair-that is the point"
The point is to hammer in that helpless feeling, to really get the gal's brain understanding that she is oh so not in charge right now. It is a fun game, lol. But I struggle with that childish need to say, in my best whiny voice, "nooooooo So VERY not FAIR!!!!!!"
But Play the Game I do so I answer, "I am very sorry sirrah, but I have no clue what you asked me, I was still blissed out from your attentions." (ha, i think to myself, make THAT my fault)
"Did I ASK you for your excuse, little one?"
(grrr... not fair not fair) "ummm.. no sir you did not."
"Then you need to do what I asked"
(hmm... should I guess? or sass?) "uh.. yessir.. I hear you" which has him releasing my hair so suddenly that I fall forward, in a very ungraceful heap on the bed and I HATE that and he knows it dammit... I gather my dignity, feeling that delightful mix of anticipation verses nervousness and decide sass is more fun. So I stand up stretch a little and head towards the the kitchen for water.
"guess again Angel" he smirks at me...
"umm.. bathroom break?" i suggest, just to stall for time
"not a chance sweetheart." he is openly chuckling now, the rat...
"ummmmmm...." I eye the bed and its evil pillows... no way no how am I putting myself there, just saying.. and I cast my eyes about looking for any stalling technique...
"I can see you have no intention of complying, so that means this goes from a 'fun' experiment to a more 'traditional' event... " He sighs in mock disappointment and I am not sure if I should say "yippee!!' or beg mercy...
"Get over those pillows, Angel." No joking now at all... and I try to make myself do it. I even manage to walk over there, my knees barely holding me up.. And I shoot him a glance.hoping he will just let me have my favored position- hell any position but not this one.
(to be clear, I am sure it is a lovely view for a boy... But it is a very very exposed view, as he insists that the upper hips are FORWARD over the pillows, which stretches teh skin very tight (makes it harder to be ok with the impact, too btw) and gives a view of all private bits.. I don't like it!!)
I can't make myself do it. I am frustrated with myself (just doooo itttt submit, you can do it) but I am mortified and my body doesn't respond to my internal dialogue.
He knows me well enough, I guess, cuz he just smiles at me and waits it out. When I glance at him beseechingly I see that he is being patient, but yet there is no room for compromise in his visage either.
Yet.. I just can't do it. So I stand there.
He grabs a water, sits down across from the bed on the bench and sighs. The sound of that sigh wounds me, as I value my ability to give that control over, and I know I am frustrating him that I still balk at anything I precieve as lacking grace, being so.. undignified... I argue with myself, remding myself that i will be horribly dissapointed if we end things like this, that I DO trust him, that I LOVE the spanking, And I am shaking and as red as a girl gets in motirification... But I drag myself over.
In true mind play fashion, he had to rearrange me a bit, making sure to really point out just how 'lovely ' it is to see an 'upturned and so very exposed backside positioned for so very many wonderful things" (sigh)... Then of course he has to talk non stop, about how he figures we should test some limits, seeings how he has not seemed to have 'made much of an impression' last time we played (no marks hahahaha..)
I argued a bit, but was already getting all subby (breathless, feeling helpless..)
I hear the swishy noise of the cane and tense with a whimper and he chuckles, which brings me out of it a bit.... and I start to breathe, relax muscles one at a time, letting my mind just go...
He started with little wrist flicks, which leaves a girl sting, but nothing worth kicking feet over, just prepping the nerves and just as I start to relax, thinking, I oh so can do this he lands a perfect line right in the middle.. And I am thinking... oooh that didn't hurt at all!! And I let out my held breath just as the sensory data hits my brain which of course makes me do a strange hissing squeaky noise.
Smart man, he waits.. lets me breath through it... then back to the tap tap tap then harder tap tap tap then harder yet TAP TAP TAP and I am wiggling and struggling to bring my bound hands back, strugling as the next line lands barely below the other..
And so it continues, until I am crying silent tears, wet to the knees, and so very very close to using my safeword...
And I find myself curled up against a strong chest, hair being smoothed, temple being kissed, lovely things being murmured about how awesome I am, how proud he is that I was able to conquer it, how exquistely gorgeous that was, you know.. pillow talk, lol Warpped in his arms still he turns me a bit, one hand checking to make sure no skin broken, tumbles us back in the bed, and snuggles me into his side, lots of cuddling and crooning.
Then.. after I am calm, giggling and talking, he asks me if I ahve "had enough" for now. I laugh. Give him wide eyes.. and say, "of course not! but not sure my ass will agree with me." He nudges me over to check again on skin and says... 'mmm .. nope you are done for today.. likely for a couple weeks" I laughed... all teh way up to seeing the bruises the next day... I guess he is laughing now..
*pout*
*addenendum Although this story has been oh so changed from real to what you read here, The caning did happen, the bruises are there and this glutton, less than a week later is already starting to gear up for another spanking...Exam stress, who me?
Thursday, 12 April 2012
Good Girls Get Spankings
Well, they should. Or at least THIS good girl should.
LOTS and lots and lots and lots and lots of spankings.
It is a fine line to walk, between being a good girl who has a strong sense of justice and fairness, and being a girl that LOVES to be otk. (over the knee). The more spankings I get the happier I am. I prefer male spankers, being fairly hetero in my tastes. Being able to be comfortable with my own prediliction for being manhandled and finding it erotic; while simultaneously whole heartedly believing in equality of value between genders is a fun but complex dance.
I am not ashamed by my enjoyment of it however. Being spanked works for me. I just flat out love it, I find it ertoic, relaxing, challenging, intellecutally mind blowing and it is intristic to my sexuality.
So... As I am a good girl by nature and would hate to turn into a girl that makes poor choices in order to get what she wants, my vote is:
Good Girls Get Spankings. And those spankings should be available as much as possible. :)
LOTS and lots and lots and lots and lots of spankings.
It is a fine line to walk, between being a good girl who has a strong sense of justice and fairness, and being a girl that LOVES to be otk. (over the knee). The more spankings I get the happier I am. I prefer male spankers, being fairly hetero in my tastes. Being able to be comfortable with my own prediliction for being manhandled and finding it erotic; while simultaneously whole heartedly believing in equality of value between genders is a fun but complex dance.
I am not ashamed by my enjoyment of it however. Being spanked works for me. I just flat out love it, I find it ertoic, relaxing, challenging, intellecutally mind blowing and it is intristic to my sexuality.
So... As I am a good girl by nature and would hate to turn into a girl that makes poor choices in order to get what she wants, my vote is:
Good Girls Get Spankings. And those spankings should be available as much as possible. :)
Monday, 9 April 2012
Princess Spanking Weekend omfg...
This is going to be a long post, lol...
So I returned yesterday from my journey and adventure to the grand city of E. And it truly was an adventure...in so many ways.:)
I have never taken a road trip before, in which I am the driver. This of course, did not really occur to me until I was nearly to the city of GP and realized that I had done it!! ALL by MYSELF!! I imagine that not many people will get just what a victory that is, but it really was. Hurrah for big girl panties.
The drive was lovely. The sun was shining for the most part, I saw a mommy moose and her overly large offspring near DC, another large moose by GP and a couple of lovley scenic views. My MP3 player was blasting, I was singing and had the cruise set for under the speed limit. I saw many officers pulling people over and was grateful that I am a cowardly driver. I had no troubles following the directions and navigated my way quite nicely.
I was burning gas though, which of course annoys me greatly, but still... small potatoes, right? I made the stops I had arranged, and headed to my weekend of fun.
I nearly made my destination when my lovely vehichle chose to no longer have a working transmission. Thank fully I had stopped for the restroom and was not driving when the transmission chose to no longer be intact. I am not sure if anyone knew this, but a vehicle does not drive well without one.
Just saying.
It made awful metal on metal grinding noises, lurched but did not move. I sat and weighed my options, wondering what to do, exactly. Fairly certain that popping the hood in my thigh high stockings and short skirt was not the best idea, and being that it was late thursday of the easter long weekend, I sighed sadly in defeat... I had to call the gentleman I was meeting to come and get me.
What a way to meet a lady, no? "Hello! I am a complete and utter nitwit who can't even get to your house... how hot am I now?" (sigh). I sat at that station long enough to earn some highly curious looks from the folk that were there, as I tried to will my car to fix itself. I am not sure if this is an 'angelism' but I am quite terrible at being helpless. I did suck it up and text my new playmate for help.
Thankfully the gentleman in question (I am going to call him Sir OCD until he gives me a play name to use, because us princesses are bratty like that! :)... ) anyways, Sir OCD was very gentlemanly and thus did not laugh (too much) nor hold my woes against me, but navigated the broken car into a stall, gathered me and my many bags and chafeured me to his lovely home with an amazing smile, gentle hand up into the truck and warm hug.
If anyone knows this man, let him know that this alone is worth many points... truly appreciate it.
I will not kiss and tell tooooo much (because that is of course quite rude) However....Some things are just too magical to not share.
What an amazing weekend!! After being worried about going (so out of my comfort zone, really) and being reassured that this could be done safely, I found myself loving every princess moment of the weekend. (aside from teh transmission)
Sir OCD graciously had me in his home for a few days, chilavrously made all the arrangements for my vehicle, was able to keep my mind off of it for the majority of our time together, which speaks for itself really. Consider too, how focused I can get on things... So Kudos Sir OCD well played.
He drove me back and forth to RK's with nary a complaint. Not by word,
gesture or even expression. Not once made me feel as if I was
intruding.
With an engaging smile, dinners were cooked for me (as I write this I am eating chili from a can and wondering if he rents out as a chef... good grief, I have NEVER eaten so well and yet so healthily at the same time.... I want to learn to cook like that...) I was complimented, cuddled, petted, kissed and coddled till I was completely princessed out. Not once was I asked to clean anything or even in a position to open a door for myself. I was allowed to bask in the attention, purr for the petting and kissing, with not one negative comment. NOT ONE!!! I struggled a bit (Stop laughing my red headed gal pal... I mean it) with it-not used to being coddled lol.
I thought I had experienced being a princess, but I now know I had no idea. Simply none. Don't get me wrong!! I have all kinds of good memories to go with the not so good ones of past relationships... but my weekend at Sir OCDs certainly redefined what being spoiled and adored feels like. This spoiling healed some hurts I hadn't realized I was still carrying.
I have never eaten so well, been treated so sweetly, kissed so gently and spanked so firmly.... I was giggling, blushing, astonished and bowled over...All that and a lavishment of attention, amazing conversation, a down duvet (omg I oh so want that... ) waking up to sunshine on my face... It was like going to a spa where a hottie is giving out amazing spankings... Realy ladies, I oh so reccomend you try it...
Even the spanking, which you all know is my favorite passtime, was completely out of my realm of experience. Every excuse to take me over his knee was delivered with the most amazingly open grin, an oh so heart achingly gentle hand guiding me over his knee, the gentle firmness of that hand at my hip, offering the threat of restraint if needed... each swat with purpose, but not even the tiniest bit of force used that was more than needed... the strength contrasted with such tender care to be lifted so carefully, cuddled in and petted.. I nearly fainted...Of course, those deceptively calm swats intensified as time went by, both as we became more comfortable and as my poor backside became more sensitive... His hands just seeming to know how to and where to swat to maximize the time or reaction-depending on what he was looking for... oh my.
Yet after three days of spankings, many of which had me kicking my feet and struggling to get a hand free, (anyone that thinks this isn't surprising can ask RK... really.. I am not a struggler)... barely a mark.... Wow, hey? I have a new hated spanking implement, which is a plastic bath brush... Sir OCD, that really needs to go... truly... what a mean thing...I liked it on a fresh backside.. but not after the fourth or fifth spanking...*pout* If you decide you want to get together again, I am oh so bringing you a gift.. Perhaps a Furry Paddle? *laugh*
And to be stepping out of the shower and have Sir OCD appear and lovingly place my still wet self over his knee, with his foot resting on the side of the tub for a good morning, wet bottom spanking was beyond amazing... One of those always fantasized about silly things that just was perfect in real life... wow. Seriously!!! Wet bottom not quite out of the tub spaknings!!! I kid you not!!!! For no reason!!
To be kissed so sweetly as I am told what a brat I am, kissed so sweetly after a spanking, kissed so sweetly and thanked for any smallest effort.. oh my. And don't mistake me, sweet does not mean the opposite of yummy... just that I have no words for that kissing style.. none...Sweet is the closest I can come up with... utterly tender? Kisses that left me breathless, knees weak and eyes in teh back of my head. And I am not a kissy girl!!! Or I guess I wasn't? I mean, I like to kiss, but holy shit... LMFAO.. wow.
Hands stroking my tush, my legs, my back, my hair, my belly, my arms... sweet goddess... The contrast of tender and firm nearly undid me a few times...ok.. I admit it.. nearly is just a way to pretend I am not blushing beet red at the mere memory.. Just... oh ... so ... yummy...
Aside from a short break in which I visited some lovely friends, From my arrival thrusday till I left sunday morning Sir OCD lavished attention on me, spoiled me and spanked me until I was a puddle of dreamy eyed princess wonder. How amazing is that?
"But at the end of the day" (grin, do I get trouble now?) I was glowing with the attention, Postiviely giddy, glowing and relaxed. I was sleeping like a log (and we will pretend that I do NOT snore thank you) and waking up with a bright smile. More important, though (and this is oh so funny) is that I learned that I DO have it in me to adore being treated as if I am adored. That there are men who cherish, give of themselves freely.
I have hope.. hope that there is a future for me that includes romance, love, flowers, spoiling, spankings, amazing fun and good conversation. I really hadn't thought such things could go hand in hand... I mean... romance and spoiling AND rules and spanking?? really????
Sweetness and firmness?
Openness but with limits?
I am spoiled quite beyond recognition, truly and my eyes have been opened up to just how.... bitter I was letting myself get. Which is ok, I earned that bitterness I think...but I can let that go now... and work on moving forward instead of having all these regrets and hurts, cynicisms and being so self reliant that I don't allow anyone in... and therefore cut myself off from living a full life...
Now I just need to work on meeting some of my own goals... of getting RK&f paid back for the rescue and making sure that I am striving towards being a very whole and healthy person who is able to bring more than a willing bottom and naive grin. And I oh so will...Knowing that the tenderhearted part of me is NOT broken is priceless..
Not what was negotiated for, so that part is an incredible gift that was so unexpected.
So thanks Sir... for letting me experience such amazingly delicious tenderness, such incredible spankings all from your very wonderful self... I fell in love a wee bit, like I said, and for that I thank you too! You made this princess believe in romance, and that is one hell of a gift.
xxx
So I returned yesterday from my journey and adventure to the grand city of E. And it truly was an adventure...in so many ways.:)
I have never taken a road trip before, in which I am the driver. This of course, did not really occur to me until I was nearly to the city of GP and realized that I had done it!! ALL by MYSELF!! I imagine that not many people will get just what a victory that is, but it really was. Hurrah for big girl panties.
The drive was lovely. The sun was shining for the most part, I saw a mommy moose and her overly large offspring near DC, another large moose by GP and a couple of lovley scenic views. My MP3 player was blasting, I was singing and had the cruise set for under the speed limit. I saw many officers pulling people over and was grateful that I am a cowardly driver. I had no troubles following the directions and navigated my way quite nicely.
I was burning gas though, which of course annoys me greatly, but still... small potatoes, right? I made the stops I had arranged, and headed to my weekend of fun.
I nearly made my destination when my lovely vehichle chose to no longer have a working transmission. Thank fully I had stopped for the restroom and was not driving when the transmission chose to no longer be intact. I am not sure if anyone knew this, but a vehicle does not drive well without one.
Just saying.
It made awful metal on metal grinding noises, lurched but did not move. I sat and weighed my options, wondering what to do, exactly. Fairly certain that popping the hood in my thigh high stockings and short skirt was not the best idea, and being that it was late thursday of the easter long weekend, I sighed sadly in defeat... I had to call the gentleman I was meeting to come and get me.
What a way to meet a lady, no? "Hello! I am a complete and utter nitwit who can't even get to your house... how hot am I now?" (sigh). I sat at that station long enough to earn some highly curious looks from the folk that were there, as I tried to will my car to fix itself. I am not sure if this is an 'angelism' but I am quite terrible at being helpless. I did suck it up and text my new playmate for help.
Thankfully the gentleman in question (I am going to call him Sir OCD until he gives me a play name to use, because us princesses are bratty like that! :)... ) anyways, Sir OCD was very gentlemanly and thus did not laugh (too much) nor hold my woes against me, but navigated the broken car into a stall, gathered me and my many bags and chafeured me to his lovely home with an amazing smile, gentle hand up into the truck and warm hug.
If anyone knows this man, let him know that this alone is worth many points... truly appreciate it.
I will not kiss and tell tooooo much (because that is of course quite rude) However....Some things are just too magical to not share.
What an amazing weekend!! After being worried about going (so out of my comfort zone, really) and being reassured that this could be done safely, I found myself loving every princess moment of the weekend. (aside from teh transmission)
Sir OCD graciously had me in his home for a few days, chilavrously made all the arrangements for my vehicle, was able to keep my mind off of it for the majority of our time together, which speaks for itself really. Consider too, how focused I can get on things... So Kudos Sir OCD well played.
He drove me back and forth to RK's with nary a complaint. Not by word,
gesture or even expression. Not once made me feel as if I was
intruding. With an engaging smile, dinners were cooked for me (as I write this I am eating chili from a can and wondering if he rents out as a chef... good grief, I have NEVER eaten so well and yet so healthily at the same time.... I want to learn to cook like that...) I was complimented, cuddled, petted, kissed and coddled till I was completely princessed out. Not once was I asked to clean anything or even in a position to open a door for myself. I was allowed to bask in the attention, purr for the petting and kissing, with not one negative comment. NOT ONE!!! I struggled a bit (Stop laughing my red headed gal pal... I mean it) with it-not used to being coddled lol.
I thought I had experienced being a princess, but I now know I had no idea. Simply none. Don't get me wrong!! I have all kinds of good memories to go with the not so good ones of past relationships... but my weekend at Sir OCDs certainly redefined what being spoiled and adored feels like. This spoiling healed some hurts I hadn't realized I was still carrying.
I have never eaten so well, been treated so sweetly, kissed so gently and spanked so firmly.... I was giggling, blushing, astonished and bowled over...All that and a lavishment of attention, amazing conversation, a down duvet (omg I oh so want that... ) waking up to sunshine on my face... It was like going to a spa where a hottie is giving out amazing spankings... Realy ladies, I oh so reccomend you try it...
Even the spanking, which you all know is my favorite passtime, was completely out of my realm of experience. Every excuse to take me over his knee was delivered with the most amazingly open grin, an oh so heart achingly gentle hand guiding me over his knee, the gentle firmness of that hand at my hip, offering the threat of restraint if needed... each swat with purpose, but not even the tiniest bit of force used that was more than needed... the strength contrasted with such tender care to be lifted so carefully, cuddled in and petted.. I nearly fainted...Of course, those deceptively calm swats intensified as time went by, both as we became more comfortable and as my poor backside became more sensitive... His hands just seeming to know how to and where to swat to maximize the time or reaction-depending on what he was looking for... oh my.
Yet after three days of spankings, many of which had me kicking my feet and struggling to get a hand free, (anyone that thinks this isn't surprising can ask RK... really.. I am not a struggler)... barely a mark.... Wow, hey? I have a new hated spanking implement, which is a plastic bath brush... Sir OCD, that really needs to go... truly... what a mean thing...I liked it on a fresh backside.. but not after the fourth or fifth spanking...*pout* If you decide you want to get together again, I am oh so bringing you a gift.. Perhaps a Furry Paddle? *laugh*
And to be stepping out of the shower and have Sir OCD appear and lovingly place my still wet self over his knee, with his foot resting on the side of the tub for a good morning, wet bottom spanking was beyond amazing... One of those always fantasized about silly things that just was perfect in real life... wow. Seriously!!! Wet bottom not quite out of the tub spaknings!!! I kid you not!!!! For no reason!!
To be kissed so sweetly as I am told what a brat I am, kissed so sweetly after a spanking, kissed so sweetly and thanked for any smallest effort.. oh my. And don't mistake me, sweet does not mean the opposite of yummy... just that I have no words for that kissing style.. none...Sweet is the closest I can come up with... utterly tender? Kisses that left me breathless, knees weak and eyes in teh back of my head. And I am not a kissy girl!!! Or I guess I wasn't? I mean, I like to kiss, but holy shit... LMFAO.. wow.
Hands stroking my tush, my legs, my back, my hair, my belly, my arms... sweet goddess... The contrast of tender and firm nearly undid me a few times...ok.. I admit it.. nearly is just a way to pretend I am not blushing beet red at the mere memory.. Just... oh ... so ... yummy...
Aside from a short break in which I visited some lovely friends, From my arrival thrusday till I left sunday morning Sir OCD lavished attention on me, spoiled me and spanked me until I was a puddle of dreamy eyed princess wonder. How amazing is that?
"But at the end of the day" (grin, do I get trouble now?) I was glowing with the attention, Postiviely giddy, glowing and relaxed. I was sleeping like a log (and we will pretend that I do NOT snore thank you) and waking up with a bright smile. More important, though (and this is oh so funny) is that I learned that I DO have it in me to adore being treated as if I am adored. That there are men who cherish, give of themselves freely.
I have hope.. hope that there is a future for me that includes romance, love, flowers, spoiling, spankings, amazing fun and good conversation. I really hadn't thought such things could go hand in hand... I mean... romance and spoiling AND rules and spanking?? really????
Sweetness and firmness?
Openness but with limits?
I am spoiled quite beyond recognition, truly and my eyes have been opened up to just how.... bitter I was letting myself get. Which is ok, I earned that bitterness I think...but I can let that go now... and work on moving forward instead of having all these regrets and hurts, cynicisms and being so self reliant that I don't allow anyone in... and therefore cut myself off from living a full life...
Now I just need to work on meeting some of my own goals... of getting RK&f paid back for the rescue and making sure that I am striving towards being a very whole and healthy person who is able to bring more than a willing bottom and naive grin. And I oh so will...Knowing that the tenderhearted part of me is NOT broken is priceless..
Not what was negotiated for, so that part is an incredible gift that was so unexpected.
So thanks Sir... for letting me experience such amazingly delicious tenderness, such incredible spankings all from your very wonderful self... I fell in love a wee bit, like I said, and for that I thank you too! You made this princess believe in romance, and that is one hell of a gift.
xxx
Thursday, 5 April 2012
Reassurance and AfterCare
After care, once explained, seems like such common sense... To be able to give someone that level of trust... to drop all those little pretenses that protect us in the work a day world... well it leaves a person quite vulnerable. When you add all those amazing emotions and intense sensations and ind play... things can get a little hairy.
So ... aftercare!! I get the concept, but after a spanking, or a playtime, I am doe eyed, sure, a bit befuddled, but SO ENERGIZED!! I want to go dance, sing in the shower, jump on the bed, talk for hours.. (I don't get to do those things, but I oh so want to!!) I have stayed on that high for days, were I glow like a girl in love LOVE love!
But... regardless of how attentive, how sweet and considerate my playmate is in gently bringing me back from taht play state to the real world, I do eventually come down a bit. (I love that I sound so experienced!!! Three months and I am a pro, really... too funny.. mind you, been getting upturned over a knee for nearly my entire adulthood...)
Anyways, I do start to come down off the glow. And something I have noticed, is right after play I feel so GOOD!! I feel safe, sexy, confident, adored,-my world is right. To me, that is what I get from subnitting.. I get that amazing feeling of rightness.
But slowly, real life leaks back in.. and I start to second guess myself a little.. Or rather, I begin to wonder if I am fun to play with, did I do ok, did I do anything wrong...and then the little girl guilt kicks in.
But because I am in this goshforsaken area, and also am still working on being a very whole and capable person, I am not in a 'relationship'. So when I do come down and need the reassurance, then what? I am finding I can go three days to two weeks before that hits me.. I work on it of course.. I remind myself that if I said or did something not to my playmates liking that it is THEIR responsiblility to say so. That I am going to have to deal with my little pile of guilt for having so much fun without marriage, lol.
Intellectually I get it. There is no reason for me to feel that anyone that I come to has to be my life meet... But I still struggle to reassure tha tlittle girl, the one that is nine, sitting at grandma's table being told that GOOD GIRLS do NOT let boys touch them..
I wonder sometimes if other women who have been married forever and then end up single and explore find themselves strugglign with this at times? I wonder too if anyone else finds that they need the aftercare hugs days later-am I just a slow processer?
Thoughts to ponder...
It is odd to me, too, that when you are setting up a play date there is all this communication, the tension is built with all those interactions before hand (hahaha, three months, and again I sound like the expert..) I quite enjoy that buildup... Then of course playtime is excellent (knock on wood, and thanks RK for keeping me safe) then there is the refactory period where there is nothing. So I wonder too if I am just suffering from withdrawl...
I guess I am allowed, after so much time skin starved, never mind actual sex, or spankigs, or playfullness or even positive attitudes... well, this whole spanko/bdsm community is like a haven for me.
Ah well.
off to study for my exams and leave this puzzle for another day.. If I
sound down, I am nt really. Stresed over my student budget and exams,
but otherwise thigns are good. Hugs and laughter
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