Fuck like a champ

“Good idea.” says Richard “Post tipsy. You’re bound to say something profound.”

He’s sitting next to me on our patio, watching the Weber, which has a head of garlic, baked potatoes, thick slices of aubergine and two eensy weensy steaks a-grilling on it.

I’ve taken control of a truly artisanal margarita, the second of the evening. We’ve been making margaritas from scratch almost nightly for the last week, since the kids have been with their father. It’s not often that I can take control of something in the Richard/Amy D/s relationship, me being the /s and all. But Richard is a cheap drunk, and he’s having trouble wielding the barbecue tongs, and so I have co-opted the margarita.

I was planning on my next post being a very deep, thoughtful, evocative thing aka Z or droplet or sulpicia or jdslove, if she would ever begin blogging ffs. But no. You get drunken ramblings instead.

We always share a glass. Water, lemonade, soda, wine, JD…we share. Boundaries issues? Mebbe. But it feels very romantic and wonderful from here.

Oops! He just snagged a gulp of it while I was writing.

Then he asked what I was writing about and I said “You. You and your enormous cock.”

“I don’t have an enormous cock!

“I have a perfect cock. The perfect size.”

OK boss. Perfect cock. Yup.

Well he does actually.

I used to scoff at the saying “It’s not the meat, it’s the motion.”

I figured that was something that small guys said. Call me a size queen. I was wrong. (He’s got lots o meat, but it’s the motion, omigod the motion)

This morning, no in the middle of the night actually, I woke up to Richard wrestling my breasts. Not fondling. Manhandling. Before I could surface to consciousness he had flipped me onto my tummy, grabbed my hips and hauled my ass into the air.

I was suprised (in a vague, half-awake kind of way) that he was able to slip into me so easily, without really any foreplay at all. Today when we were driving to a Greek restaurant for lunch and talking about this he said “Look, I’m feeling really aggressive right now. You want foreplay AND an orgasm? I don’t *think* so!”

He fucked me so hard, so long, so sweetly…he was an artist. He is a fucking PhD in fucking. He deserves a Nobel for fucking, with a specialty in doggie style or hands-n-knees or from-behind or whatever-you-call-it.

After hours (well, not really, it just felt that way), he flipped me onto my back and really started fucking me hard.

The whole time he is growling like an animal. I can tell he doesn’t know he’s making any noise at all. He’s just hammering my pussy and *owning* me by fucking me, I can’t think of another way to say it.

As he gets close to cumming, he moves differently. It’s more…random, less linear, less predictable. And it feels so, so sweet. I just arch my back and hold my breath and try to feel every inch of him. When he cums in me, I understand why the French call it “la petite mort” – “the little death”. He dies in me, I die with him, we die…I struggle completely awake and he pushes himself off me.

He grabs my hand and pulls it down to my pussy.

“Masturbate for me. Do it.”

I start to touch myself, but he’s not convinced. “Do it now. Be a good girl. I want you to cum.”

I keep going. He can feel it, and he starts to play with my breasts, with my nipples. “You’re full of my cum. You’re mine. I want you to cum.”

Usually cumming makes him less aggressive, but not today. Today he knows and he feels it that I am his and his alone, all day long, all night long. His aggression, his dominance – I’m going to feel it throughout the day, no matter how often he cums. This is what life is like when we are alone for several days. I am completely his – his girl, his slut, his toy. So much less and so much more than I ever was for anyone before in my life.

“”Cum for me now.”

And I do. I do. Because I am his, because he wants me to, because he takes me there.

Advertisements

Taking care of her pubic hair

A couple of days ago I laid Amy down on the bed to pluck her pubic hair. I’ve been keeping her smooth by having her epilate, but it’s rough on her, and she has mentioned being afraid of her epilator, so I decided to make her smooth myself.

Stretch the skin tight, grab the hair with tweezers, and pull it firmly in the direction it is growing. Over and over.

For me, it’s a wonderful way to explore a part of her without the heat of sexual arousal. I can examine and notice details that I would overlook, otherwise.

For Amy, the effect is more mixed. As my hands move and reposition over her obedient pussy, she begins to bliss out. She’s dealing with the discomfort of hair plucking, combined with the pleasure of having her pussy touched, and the underlying knowledge that I am doing this to her, and she is to simply lie there and have me do it to her.

I have no idea how long it takes. I pluck, tease out an occasional ingrown with a pin and a jewelers loupe, while Amy gives little moans and whimpers from time to time, pressing her damp self against my hands…

Are we real? Yes, we are.

I’ve gotten a few emails from people asking if we’re real, if the things we write about are real and, if so, how THEY could go about having such a relationship. I’ve always replied, but I thought it might be worth a post too.

1. Are you and Richard real people? Yes we are real. We met on an online community last September. I saw his avatar (the little picture that shows up with your posts) and felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach. He felt the same when he saw mine. We flirted outrageously on the boards for a month or so before taking the flirtation to email, then to instant messaging (IM) and webcam (I hate webcam. I am not an exhibitionist. Hate it.) I remember thinking, after our first few email exchanges, “Gee he’s not just a pretty face with a great sense of humor. There’s some real substance to this guy!”

At the time, I thought I was a bedroom submissive (see my early posts) and Richard was determined not to get involved with anything more than that. We realized pretty quickly that this was different and we were not going to be satisfied with less than a 24/7 D/s relationship.

In February, we met in person for the first time and it was magic. I knocked on the hotel room door and the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen answered. The magnetism…unbelievable. (We talked about it later; both of us thought the other was attractive from IM, but were startled by HOW attractive the other was in real life.) He wasn’t expecting me for another half hour, so when I leaned across to kiss him he pulled away. Then when he realized it was me, he pulled me into the room and wrapped his arms around me and began to kiss me. We’d gotten a room with an incredible view but I didn’t see it for almost 15 minutes because he wouldn’t stop kissing me and holding me. When I finally pointed this out, he laughed and turned me to the window, then wrapped his arms around me again. It was another 15 minutes before I saw the room. We had four days, trapped in the hotel room because of bad weather, me experiencing D/s for the first time and both of us falling head over heels in love.

We had planned on waiting six to 12 months to be together, to get to know each other better and deal with the complexities of Richard moving across county. (Richard is a photographer and so much more flexible than I am. I am tied here both by my career and my children (shared custody).) But after the four days together, we decided that there was no point in waiting. We knew that we were going to be together, and each day apart was agony. It was hard for me to focus on my work; we would have marathon IM sessions, sometimes eight hours or more.

So Richard moved out two long weeks later, and we have been together since then. We’ve only been apart two nights, when I had to make a quick business trip to the east coast. I missed him. This blog chronicles our time together since near the beginning, so I don’t need to say any more. But, yes, we’re real.

2. Are the things you write about real? Yes, they are real. In fact, we only write about maybe a tenth of what we do. We are both too busy to write more than that, and we’re also both well aware that writing about sex can get repetitive and boring if you aren’t careful. So we have things that we do pretty regularly, but we only write about them once. For example, I’ve cum twice today in very similar ways, much like I cum almost every day – Richard began playing with my breasts, I begged him to fuck me, he did while telling me what a little slut I’ve become, needing sex so much, and how much he likes it, then he pulled out of me and made me masturbate until I was close to cumming, while pinching and sucking and biting my breasts, then when I begged to cum he teased me about not letting me then finally said yes, I had an earth-shattering orgasm and then he entered me again and fucked me until he came (omigod that fucking right after orgasm??!!! heaven on earth! can I get an “amen”?)

See, boring. I can’t write that over and over. Well, to be honest, it was a little different the first time today because in the middle of fucking me he put a pillow over my face and fucked me and made me cum that way. Still, you see my point: how many times can you write about that?

Vacation and D/s

Before we headed east to visit family, I said I was unsure of “how to deal with the inevitable distance that will develop with less time alone, more responsibilities and less ability to focus exclusively on each other.”

The short answer is that we survived.

We had a lot of Quiet Sex. Well, not a LOT of Quiet Sex. But all the sex we had was Quiet Sex.

Quiet Sex can be fun for a change. Hushing each other, biting hard on the pillow, giggling when the bed slams against the wall or the boxsprings squeak just a bit too rhythmically.

Quiet Sex as a regular diet is frustrating. No time or privacy for simply snuggling and pillow talk is also frustrating.

We had one great photo shoot, from whence came the AirStream photo and some other pics yet to be posted. I really enjoy doing a shoot with Richard; I’ve mentioned before that it makes me feel very submissive and close to him. That was nice.

bdsmcouple-amy-barn

We might have been able to do more D/s, but I think that Richard was focused on keeping me propped up until we got out of there. I felt like I was curled up into a mental fetal position, just trying to survive my mother’s nastiness until we could go home . (She’s not always this bad; things are tough right now and it brings out the worst in her. I’ve spoken to a lot of women my age who have mothers of HER age who seem to have become bitter and twisted with age, I guess from not living their lives the way they wanted to. I am determined not to end up that way.)

But as we headed west…things changed. Richard began to be more demanding. Fewer requests, more commands. That instantly caused a mental shift in me, bringing my focus back to him, and to us. The kids were with us, but they were happily playing with each other and the dogs in the back of the minivan, which gave us the freedom to talk for hours as we drove.

I didn’t make the mistake of renting a “suite” again. We got adjoining hotel rooms, and when the door closed on the kids and dogs, I was alone with a very aroused, very aggressive man. We still had to be quiet, but we had a long, wonderful night together, with little sleep. We reconnected as a D/s couple, as owner and owned, Master and slave, Daddy and little girl.

Now we’re at home, and the kids are with us for another five days. It will be three long weeks without a single spanking for me. During the day, when I’m not at work, I’m focusing on serving and caring for Richard – cooking nice meals, making sure he takes his vitamins, last night I made from-scratch margaritas! At night, when we climb into bed, I am his.

As I write this, I am tired, but very happy and peaceful. We survived the challenge of two weeks with relatives. Our young marriage and D/s relationship is stronger than ever. Life is good.

Spanked on all parts… all

Hi all – wrote this yesterday, but didn’t get a chance to proof-read it til this morning (I’m anal that way, if no other lol.) Richard will post a pic of the wiggle dress later today. xoxoAmy

Our young ones are due back in just a couple of hours. We are both really excited to see them, but also sad to see the end of this idyllic two weeks we have had together. We’ve never had this much time alone, with so few things that we HAD to do or places that we HAD to be. I’m afraid I got only about a third of the work done that I’d planned. But I’ve had ten times as much fun, so I guess it all balances out.

Yesterday was possibly the most hedonistic, decadent and just plain fun of my whole life. We went clubbing again on Saturday night, and got home at 3:00 am (we saw even more cool stuff at the club this time, including fireplay – zowie! – I’ll try to write about it later). I have always been a bed-by-ten kinda gal so this was waaaaay past my bedtime.

 

I woke up at 6:30, which is actually late for me. Richard had reached over in his sleep and pulled me toward him, tucked my ass into his lap, wrapped his arms around me and held me by the wrists. That still, after several months, makes me feel submissive and hot and squirmy. I started wiggling around a bit. Richard woke up and said “Are you really awake? Shall we get up and have coffee?” What a saint my sadist is. But I said no and managed to settle myself down enough so that we fell back asleep until 9.

I hopped out of bed and made coffee, and brought it to Richard with the newspaper. We never opened the newspaper.

We started talking about our night at the club. Richard wants to eventually do some public play. Yikes! I pointed out that we had never really done a “scene” as such. You know – tie me up, bring out all kinds of implements, flog and swat and spank and poke while saying all kinds of wicked things to me, then untie me (or not) and fuck me like a madman. I thought that I probably needed some PRIVATE experience with that kind of thing before doing it publicly. I suggested maybe like ten years of private experience. Richard thought probably we could fit ten years of experience in the next few weeks if he really tried hard. Bad man.

Richard suggested that what I really needed was more experience with “sensation play”. Then he proceeded to discuss the different kinds of experience it would be useful for me to have. Spanking (I actually have LOTS of experience with that, IMHO), flogging (none), whipping (none), caning (none), cropping (a bit, if that’s a word), nipple clamps (yum), other pinchy things (yuck), etc. I’ve only been tied up a couple of times too, although I’ve worn chains quite a bit.

hiddendirtysex-tit-clamps

Talking about all this, as you might expect, got both of us feeling a little hot and bothered, especially as Richard was compelled to rub the various parts of me to which he wished to apply sensation as we spoke.

Finally Richard said “OK, flip onto your belly.”

I didn’t argue, even though I assumed a spanking was coming. I usually argue about a spanking, at the start anyway, but I think he’d mesmerized me with the stroking and talking.

He started spanking me, slowly and firmly, not too hard, moving from cheek to cheek. He’d stop occasionally and rub my ass, then rub and stroke my neck and back. I was squeaking and purring and moaning. Blissed out. It felt really good, even the stinging. The impact is almost like a good backrub.

After a while, in between spanks he slid his fingers along my clit and my pussy and my ass, then caressed my asshole softly. Usually this makes me tense up, from shyness and embarassment. This time I was so relaxed from the spanking and stroking that I didn’t tense up. Instead I orgasmed, which I have never done before without direct clitoral contact. Wow.

He kept spanking and stroking and a little later I heard him reach for the Astroglide. Gulp. He poured it onto his fingers and a couple of drops fell on my ass. He slid his fingers along my clit and then to my asshole, and gently slipped one in. I groaned softly. He began to finger-fuck me in the ass, the other hand rubbing my ass and my back.

He began to spank me again as he continued to finger-fuck me, now sliding two fingers in. I was out of control, moaning and humping his hand and having constant mini-orgasms.

Suddenly he grabbed me by the hips and pulled my ass in the air. I still had a sarong tied around my waist (my usual item of clothing around the house). Richard untied it. I thought he would throw it off the bed, but instead he wound it up, slid it under my hips, wrapped it around his hands and used it to haul me toward him as he fucked me.

Talking, playing, fucking, orgasming – it was after noon before we got out of bed. What decadence!

We went out for a late breakfast and then rollerblading (I’m just learning, Richard is a pro, the story of my life I realize).

Richard laid tile on the patio while I lay naked in our hot tub. I kept asking if this was really okay, I felt like such a lazy creature, but Richard said he loved having me out there with him.

Afterwards we took a looooong nap, then went to our favorite Mexican restaurant for a pitcher of mango margaritas and carnitas. We were going to try a scene afterwards, but we were too full and sleepy from eating so late. We walked around the neighborhood instead and went to bed like two old people around 11.

Now the question is, how to deal with the inevitable distance that will develop with less time alone, more responsibilities and less ability to focus exclusively on each other. To make it even more challenging, we’re about to spend two weeks with family (expect few if any blog posts – sorry).

We’ve already talked about ways that we can continue to be D/s without freaking out the rellies. I have to ask permission to use the bathroom (see explanatory post here). Richard was okay to just drop that for two weeks, but I think it will help me keep feeling connected to him, so he suggested that I squeeze his hand if I want permission. He’ll squeeze back if he wants to give me permission. Which he’d better, cuz otherwise I’ll squeeze his hand so hard it hurts. And then pee on his foot. Not really.

I’m gonna miss all y’all. I hope everybody is having as great a time as I am. I will try to post whenever possible over the next couple of weeks.

That one time I took her from behind

The kids come back today, and we head off shortly on another trek into the future. I’ve been obsessed with some home renovations and photography, leaving little time for blogging.

Which Amy has pointed out.

I’ve been particularly focused on laying tile down on the concrete patio. Amy has viewed this as a “less than immediate” priority task. She pointed out that I could have been building the shed, which would give us some additional storage space, and relieve congestion in the house. As she pointed out “We already had a perfectly good floor out there.”

Well. Too bad. Now we have a tiled floor out there.

And still no shed.

Ok so that’s the next project.

But it means we had some stories that didn’t get told over the last two weeks. One morning Amy and I were fooling around on the bed, and I knocked over her coffee cup. I grabbed it before it hit the floor, but in the process dumped most of the coffee over her head and the bed. I was starting to clean it up, but Amy said “Can’t we leave it for a bit?

We did so.

One thing continued to lead to another…and…well…

One of the most charming memories for me of the past week was fucking Amy from behind, her hair full of coffee and she herself with her faced pressed into the bedding next to this massive coffee stain on the sheets.

And then yesterday, we started to get up, and somehow I started massaging Amy’s wonderfully naked ass, which led to some serious spanking and anal play. Much fun, and well worthy of a story, but I’ve not had the time to get to it. Maybe Amy will.

We’ve been looking for vintage clothing, we’ve done photo shoots we haven’t mentioned here, and Amy got this KILLER black wiggle dress to wear to the club. It’s partially transparent, and looks awesome without a bra – I’ll get a shot up shortly, I’m planning to do a pic of her in it later today.

Returned to the club Saturday Night – had the most fun yet. I’m getting Amy used to the idea of public play. And you should see her in some of the vintage slips we have now. Perfect for a kink club.

I’ve got a picture in my head that kinda came to me in a dream. Amy and I have put together the clothes for it, now we just need a location to shoot it and a major prop, both of which we will get on the upcoming road trip. Not sure I can pull it off, but it will be fun trying. We’ll get something out of it, anyway.

It’s been a full week, enjoying ourselves and getting prepared for the future.

Now to get Amy into that wiggle dress.

And out of it…

Consent and kink

I have read and seen a lot in the last year. I’ve talked before about how I didn’t even realize I was sexually submissive until a year ago, and didn’t know that my fantasies could be more than fantasies, that some people lived their lives this way. This has taken a lot of adjusting, in thinking and behavior, and I still regularly feel the challenge of integrating this aspect of myself into my life. It has also been incredibly freeing. I’m stunned by the energy and creativity that has been released by opening my whole mind to who I really am. I am so, so happy.

I am, as I would guess many previously vanilla people are, more accepting of other people’s kinks than I was of my own. I have always felt that what happens between consenting adults in privacy is their concern and no one else’s. Is anyone getting hurt? If all involved are happy, then all is good. (OK, maybe somebody got hurt, but some people LIKE to get hurt. ; ))

I used to snicker a bit when I read about, for example, spanking or role play. Now I think it’s hot.

I used to feel quizzical about e.g. submissive men. Now I feel… a kinship I guess. And I think it must be harder in our society to be them than to be me (and it’s harder on all of us kinksters than it is to be gay, in general), so I have some sympathy too.

There are some things that personally squick me – the example that always comes to mind is scat play, and diaper play/infantilism/incest play is only a little easier for me to read about.

Last weekend I saw my first plushies/furries. I was happy that Richard was there to explain about them. He is so open and non-judgmental. It’s easy to laugh about their kink, but why is theirs any odder than wanting to spank or be spanked?

To repeat: I have always felt that what happens between consenting adults in privacy is their concern and no one else’s. YKINMKBYKIOK: Your kink is not my kink, but your kink is okay, as some people put it.

So. I was reading a blog today (I’m not going to link to it, because I think she’s suffering from the negative attention already and I hate to see that). In it, a sub described her Master requiring her to put syrup on her pussy, to get the family dog to lick her. She explained that he had made her do this once before, and it had upset her so much that she cried for hours and couldn’t eat for days. That seems all kinds of wrong to me – why would a Master want to hurt his property that badly? why would you want a Master that hurt you that badly? – BUT that part of it (His and her choices) falls under the YKINMKBYKIOK rule to me.

The part that was really disturbing for me was the lack of consent from the dog. Here’s why: one of the cornerstones of responsible BDSM is consent. Otherwise you’re moving into abuse and criminal behavior, yes?

This is why the idea of “consensual non-consent” has been so carefully spelled out by the BDSM community. Basically, you can consent to give away your right to consent, either short-term for a play session or long-term as in the case of a slave. Slaves of course always have the right to take away their consent and be released from their slavery.

In my case, I have agreed that Richard has complete control over me; a “no” from me would be a “no” to the relationship. But if Richard told me to jump off a building, or to hurt my children, or to have sex with an animal, I would say “no”, recognizing the enormity of the “no” that I said.

Our morality and our laws recognize that some individuals and some creatures are not capable of consent. Animals fall into this category, children too, and brain damaged and severely mentally disabled people do too.

You may have heard of people who sexually molest infants. (Richard made me take out the details here.) Even if the child never remembers the event, most of us are horrified that someone would do this. Why? I would argue that it is because infants do not have the ability to choose to consent or not, and we therefore believe that they are off-limits for sexual play.

In a similar vein, there are occasional newspaper reports of caretakers of brain damaged or mentally disabled patients who have been caught having sexual relations with their charges. Even if the patients will never remember the event, most of us would say this is reprehensible behavior. I think it’s because we see a responsibility to those who are not able to choose to consent.

Animals are a greyer area for most people, although not for all. After all, we kill some of them for food. With dogs specifically, many people cut off their tails or parts of their ears. Other people kick or hit their dogs. Others leave them chained outside for days, even though dogs are extremely social creatures and crave interaction. Is having a dog lick your pussy really such a terrrible thing?

Oral sex is sex, in spite of what Bill Clinton might say. Having a dog lick your pussy is having sex with a dog. I actually called a (kinky) friend who is an animal control officer and asked her if this is illegal.

“Yeah it’s illegal. It’s called b*stiality.”

“So you would go get the dog?”

“Oh no. The police deal with this one. They go get the owners.”

The legality or illegality of the act is not my main concern, although I’m concerned that the blogger could run into trouble if anyone recognizes her online. My friend told me that they’ve prosecuted several cases like this over the last few years.

My main concern, the thing that upset me, is that the dog, just like an infant or a brain-damaged person, is not capable of saying yes or no. We are the caretakers of our pets, as we are of our children. It seems like a dereliction of our responsibility to involve our charges in any kind of sexual play, because they rely on us to make choices for them and to protect them.

I feel a lot better after writing about this. I actually cried when I talked to Richard about it. It seems like, when I respond very emotionally to something (versus just an “ewwww I would NEVER do that!”) it is worth exploring and discussing. In this case, it has really helped bring home to me how strongly I feel about NOT involving individuals (people or animals) in your kink that have not consented or can not consent. I’m really interested to hear what other people think about this.

Open your legs

This morning I had to wake up early to get some reading done before a meeting. Reading I should have done the night before, but I was having too much fun snuggling and flirting with Richard.

We have been having so much fun together with the kids gone. A couple of days ago when we were fucking, Richard called me a cunt and I snarled at him – when am I gonna learn just to ignore him? Afterwards when we were cuddling, he started teasing me about being his cunt and I denied it (of course). Somehow this devolved into him holding me down and saying “Cuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcunt”. And I, being the mature person in the relationship, after a few minutes of saying “No I’m not! Shut up!” switched to “I know you are, but what am I? I know you are, but what am I?”

I am embarassed to admit that this went on for several minutes. We’d slow down and start giggling and a few seconds later he’d start up again “Cuntcuntcuntcunt” and I Could.Not.Let.It.Go. “I know you are, but what am I?” Over and over and over.

The next day, during post-orgasmic snuggling, he began walking his fingers along my ass, then up to my breasts, singing “The inchy pinchy lobster/climbed up Amy’s butt/up to her nipples/to see if she’s a slut”. I HATE being pinched, so at this point I began struggling madly to get away and it turned into a major wrestling match.

I managed a sweet little maneuver to get off the bed and went scampering downstairs, naked as a jaybird. I ran through the kitchen and realized that I either had to run into the back yard (hi neighbors!) or into the garage. I dashed into the garage and then hung onto the doorknob for dear life, hoping I could at least slow him down, my heart pounding.

I heard Richard, who had taken the time to put on a pair of shorts, walk quietly into the kitchen. Then I heard the door to the back yard open. I waited a few seconds, then quietly opened the door to the garage, planning to lock Richard outside. I was chortling, I tell you. As I opened the garage door, though, I saw that the door to the back yard was ALREADY locked. Confused, I looked toward the kitchen and saw Richard heading toward me, grinning, with a riding crop in his hand. (Not the one from the feed store).

“I knew you wouldn’t go outside naked, silly girl.”

So I got hauled back to the bedroom and suffered the indignity of a whipping (cropping?), made better by more cuddling and kissing and teasing afterwards.

 

Last night, Richard went online to see if his kids were on. I went into the other room and logged on the desktop computer. I quietly took off my shirt and turned on the webcam. Then I buzzed Richard. Hehehe. He was so surprised. It brought back a lot of nice memories of our early relationship (we met online, and started IMing and webcamming after a month or so, but I was VERY shy back then – the “no shirt” aspect was a new one lol).

After a few minutes IMing back and forth, he typed “now I’m going to surprise YOU” and suddenly he was behind me, cupping my breasts with his hands, nuzzling and kissing my neck. Mmmmmm. We agreed that real time is sooooo much nicer. But I am so thankful for the internet, because we never would have met without it.

So. This morning. The alarm rang and I reached to turn it off.

Richard said “Roll over next to me”.

I did, and he said “Open your legs.”

Which I did. He slipped his hand over my pussy and closed my legs again, then draped his other arm over me.

“Um Richard, I have to get up now. I have that reading to do.”

“Shhhh.”

So I laid silently for a minute, feeling the warmth from his hand, trying not to get too aroused, trying not to wiggle.

“OK. You can get up now.”

I did my reading, while he slowly woke up next to me. I finished more quickly than expected (maybe not my most *careful* reading ever) and rolled against him.

We began teasing each other with our hands and then our mouths. I was the first to crack.

“Richard, please fuck me.”

“We can’t. You’ve got to get to the office.”

“Pleeeease. Just put it in. Just for a sec. C’mon.”

“I’m not just putting it in. Nope.”

“OK. Two strokes then. OK? C’mon. Please Daddy.” (batting my eyelashes imploringly)

“Just two strokes huh? OK, climb on top, little girl.”

Sweet jesus. He played with my breasts as he fucked me from below.

“I think that’s two. We better stop.” (smartass me)

“Shut up and fuck. You know how to fuck don’t you? Just fuck.”

So I did what I was told.

After a few minutes, he popped me off of him and flipped me onto my belly. I thought he was going to fuck me from behind, but first he smacked me HARD several times on each ass cheek. THEN he hauled my ass in the air and fucked me. Every few thrusts he would smack me again. My ass was stinging and it felt soooo good.

Then he flipped me onto my back and really started fucking me in earnest. We were both wildly turned on at this point, and I know I couldn’t have put together a complete sentence if I’d wanted to. I was moaning and bucking and biting and hitting and finally Richard had enough of it and grabbed a pillow and put it over my face (note for the safety police: leaving my mouth free : )).

Wow. That really quieted me down. He was fucking me even harder and I could feel every millimeter of him, every move he made and I just stayed as still as I could and felt it all.

After a while he pulled the pillow off my face and stared down at me as he kept fucking me.

“You need to get used to being used like this, little girl.”

“I am going to use you more and more. Like this, and in lots of other ways too.”

I could feel myself orgasming as he spoke and he thrust into me hard twice more and stopped. He held me close and told me he loved me and then we hopped out of bed and I barely made it to my meeting in time. And I couldn’t stop thinking about him the entire time. It was the longest meeting of my life.

Review of our first night in a BDSM club

Amy has given a good description of our first night at a club. One thing that she didn’t seem to realize was just exactly why some many Doms were talking to us. She assumed that we were all talking “Domly” stuff that she found uninteresting. I pointed out to her that they were talking to me because they wanted to fuck her.

The thought horrified her, and she claims not to believe it, but I’ve been around enough to know better. If you want to play with someone’s slave, you have to go through her owner, not through her. So, Amy makes me more popular than I usually am. I also pointed out to her that I have been offered the use of someone’s slave before at a dungeon, and she is dealing with the thought/fear that I could do the same.

Anyway, the next night found us at a different club, a very elegant club with theme rooms, a dance floor, a bar, etc., and with house submissives that tend to your needs, to a certain degree, anyway (Some needs, you just gotta bring your own slave).
Amy adjusting

We saw a school room, a dungeon, a sissy maids room – all sorts of great facilities. But the best part was watching the play.

Early on, we watched a lesbian couple doing some flogging, and just generally enjoyed the ambiance.

Then, a couple of plushies and a few cross dressers showed up, as well as some intriguing Dominatrices and others. Some nice corsets, a tall brunette schoolgirl, and a stunning pigtailed anime styled blond asian woman. A nice mix of people; my kind of people, so I felt really at home.

Amy and I wandered off through the many secluded rooms and hallways, with me stopping from time to time to ease a breast out of her corset, and play with her nipples as she took a sharp intake of breath. Once I lifted her skirt and played with her ass, which made her visibly nervous, and in another room she laid back on an examining table while I held a hand over her eyes and played with a few vulnerable parts of her body, as passers-by peeked in for a casual glance at what was going on.

I think the sexiest part of the night, other than Amy and I playing with each other, was watching some extended play a man did with a woman tied almost nude to a chair largely woven from metal braid. He did far more than just flog her, whipping her pierced breasts repeatedly, invading her mouth with his fingers at will, and putting a satisfying beating on her in general, from her thighs to her belly. Quite sexy, and with the assistance of his submissive dressed as a plushie – some kind of bear I think – a very visually appealing overall, with a nice level of flair.

In the same room, at the same time, a complete novice was being shown how to use a flogger by a friendly and experienced Dominatrix. She showed a lot of patience and gave some really good tips to a man who seemed to have never held a flogger before.

We left the club some time after midnight, and in the parking lot, I helped Amy ease out of her corset for the ride back home. She’s beginning to get used to dressing and undressing in intriguing places, which bodes well for the future!

The first time I went to a BDSM club

On Friday night, Richard & I went to a private BDSM club. I was nervous, but SO excited. I really had no idea what to expect. It was a male Dom/ fem sub night, and Richard said that in his experience the women would be nude or wearing very little. Since this was my first time to a club, he didn’t want me to feel anxious or shy, so he let me wear a (tight) black t-shirt and mini-skirt, with Converse sneakers. For a while.

It was in a kinda creepy, warehouse-y part of town (not our town). Richard says that’s because you need a lot of space for a dungeon, so you need to rent where it’s cheap. I think we were probably the only patrons with a mini-van.

When we entered, we had to fill out a form and show our IDs, which kinda freaked me out. But everyone was really nice, and a regular there showed us around.

Actually, the first thing he showed us was his “bitch” as he called her. She was about six foot tall – he was maybe 5’8″ and twice her age. Big, blond girl. Corn fed. Buck naked. Well, not quite naked; she had on a leather harness and nipple rings and heels.

He showed us around the place – they have over 6000 square feet in about 15 or 20 rooms. And all this equipment that someone(s) had lovingly made – spanking benches and flogging stations and THREE St. Andrew’s crosses.

There was a group of people hanging out around an outdoor fire. They seemed to be normal, and they had a normal amount of clothing on, albeit all black.

Then a young-ish guy walked in, holding the end of a leash. On the other end of the leash was a girl wearing a leather skirt and nothing else. He walked her into the main room and tied her to an overhead bar.

Meanwhile, we were the object of much interest and good wishes. Several doms descended on us and wanted to know how we’d discovered BDSM and each other, and offer advice on meeting more like-minded people, and tell us what equipment was the most fun, etc. I kept shrinking further and further behind Richard, who was very friendly and pleasant to everybody.

Richard finally had pity on me and took me for a walk around the dungeon, away from our well-wishers. We walked into the main room, and there were TWO women tied up at stations, with their Doms smacking them with various implements.

Richard sat us down next to one of the stations – too close it turned out, because the woman made a LOT of noise and it started freaking me out. I THINK they were happy sounds, but I couldn’t be sure. She wasn’t too loud when her Dom was flogging her but then he began finger-fucking her and she got really loud. I whispered to Richard and asked if he was hurting her but he said she was probably an exhibitionist and making a lot of noise was part of her kink. We moved to the other side of the room.

This gave us a better view of the youngish couple I mentioned above. He was flogging her and then he would stop and rub her back and kiss her neck and see how she was doing. I could see him caressing her and she would start to relax and then he would twist her nipple hard and she would shriek and he would go back to flogging her. Later in the night he untied her and had her sit down. He gave her water and dried her off and cuddled her. Then he put a mask on her and took her over to a corner and made her give him a blowjob. Wow.

After a while, when we’d wandered around a bit and seen a few things, I felt comfortable enough to change. Richard put on my collar and corset and I slipped into a pair of heels. Richard had me sit at his feet while we watched some scenes. He asked me what I liked best and I said I liked the spanking bench.

He took me to one of the rooms with a spanking bench. It was the most private room there, but we had to walk through a room with several people in it, standing around talking.

He had me climb onto the bench. I was nervous, but he was very calm and gentle and just kept talking to me. He showed me how my legs and arms are buckled in. He rubbed my back and talked to me gently and I started to feel comfortable.

I thought he would have me get up then. But instead, he slapped me on the ass. I squeaked. Quietly, because there was a bunch of people just one room over. He slapped me again and I squeaked again. Then he reached between my legs and rubbed me, over my panties, gently. Then he spanked me again, harder.

I realized that there was no way that the people in the other room couldn’t hear the spanking. I felt embarrassed, but I didn’t say anything. I’m not sure why; I think it was because I was feeling so submissive and so turned on.

He spanked me for a few minutes, alternating with rubbing me and teasing me. I could tell my panties were getting wet from my excitement. I was embarrassed, but even more turned on.

After a few minutes, he unbuckled me and pulled me up. As I stood up, I realized people were coming around the corner to see what we were doing. Ack! Richard took me into his arms and kissed me deeply, positioning my face away from the door. I heard the group come in, look around and leave – probalby disappointed to have missed the spanking. Richard says a lot of the people at BDSM clubs are voyeurs and come to watch, not play.

He took me by the wrist and led me back to the main room, where a man was giving a woman a major flogging on the central stage. She looked gorgeous, kneeling on a bench and leaning against a higher one. There is something about that position – legs spread, ass in the air – that is incredibly sexy.

Her Dom was giving her a flogging that I am still stunned by. She must have entered sub-space, because she barely made a sound and her body was moving in rhythm to the background music. He was talking to her, telling her how to breathe, re-positioning her. He would stop and dry her off and stroke her and then pick up the flogger again.

I could tell from how he talked to her that he knew her well, knew what she could take and what she wanted. It seemed to me that he loved her.

Humans are amazing. To want to cause that kind of pain, to want to receive that kind of pain…amazing. How wonderful that they found each other.

As we watched them, with me at Richard’s feet, he began to brush my breasts with his hands, then slip his fingers inside my bra and play with my nipples. People walked by, but he didn’t stop. Later, the man who initially showed us around came up with his sub. Richard continued to play with my breasts as they spoke. It’s funny, I felt a little shy but not as much as I expected. I felt very owned, and safe in that, and very submissive and passive. It was very erotic.

I am still processing everything we saw. Last night we went to another, quite different BDSM club. I’ll write about that tomorrow.

I think this is going to have a big impact on Richard’s and my relationship. I am feeling extremely submissive and focused on him. I can tell that it has made him want to do more, to take more control, to try some new things (eg we haven’t really “scened” per se). It will be interesting to see where it takes us.