Boy cut lace panties

Such a lovely ass, which got a very hard spanking recently. The same day that Amy was feeling insecure about being owned and loved; we spent a lot of time cuddling and talking, which led quite naturally to some very “emphatic” love making. Amy got her face slapped and hair pulled a few times, the hardest ass spanking she’s received yet, and some very rough breast play. The breast play was a little rougher than I intended, and Amy has some significant bruises on her left breast, both from gripping it hard with my hand and some extended spanking on the side of her breast. The bruises are sexy to see, but the play was a little rougher than I had intended them to be.

Well, you try things out and you learn. Now I know Amy can definitely stand some hard play that leads to significant bruising. I just don’t like the bruising because it complicates other areas of life, such as photography, and could be seen by people who don’t need to see it.

I’ve been toying with the idea of fucking Amy in a parking lot, and making her ride home nude in the front seat, which horrifies her. It’s borderline public play, so it’s not something we will do, but it’s fun to make her shudder when I run through a little fantasy and make her feel what it would be like. Poor thing.

We went out dancing at a club last night, which kind of set the whole topic in motion. Amy is a great dancer, and can go from being very innocent to devilishly sexy, and back again. Very erotic, even wearing a turtleneck sweater like she did last night. We have both agreed she was wearing too much clothing, she because she got over heated, and me just feeling I needed to see more of her body. We’ll go out again next week, and I’ll have her in a minidress, or maybe something with a little cleavage. Should be something to see.

Not sure yet if I’ll let her wear panties.

Maybe the boy cut lace.

And maybe just her bare pussy.

We’ll see.


How to get her pregnant

Sex with Amy is a continuum; I’m not always sure when one episode starts and another ends.

Maybe the aggression wipes out short term memory.

As much as I like the Daddy/little girl dynamic, I don’t necessarily think of Amy as a little girl.

I think you can see why.


Amy and I were lying in bed yesterday around 6:30, just talking and waking
up, when I noticed how beautiful the light on the wall was.

I had her stand against the wall, and shot a few dozen pictures.

This is one.

I think of Amy as “Mine.” I expect her to submit, to obey, to be a good girl. I expect to use her and force her to do what I want.

A few days ago I wanted to fuck her, but I wanted her all tits and cunt. I turned her head to one side, and pressed a pillow over her face. I had her masturbate and cum like that, then I fucked her with the pillow over her face; all wriggling cunt and bouncing breasts. Lovely.

At some point, a day later, maybe more, it’s kinda blurry, I played with her, fucked her, made her masturbate and cum, but didn’t cum myself. I warned her that I’d use her later in the night, after I’d rested.

Didn’t happen.

I slept too soundly, and awoke early in the morning.

Amy lay beside me in a thin t-shirt, because she had felt chilled when she went to bed the night before.

We talked briefly, I don’t remember about what, but I do remember something about torturing her. I remember wanting to, anyway. Then I told her to open her legs, because I wanted to fuck her. As I moved onto her, I remember very clearly her nipples jiggling with her breasts under her shirt, and feeling offended that she had the t-shirt on st all, but also thinking “Fuck it, I don’t want your tits today anyway. This is for me, not you.”

Amy likes breast play, but no way I was giving her anything to work with. I wanted to use her, not make love to her. This was a fuck for me.

I entered her, and I remember being proud that she was wet enough to force my way into her pussy easily, and feeling proud that she was enough of a slut to always be ready to fuck, without foreplay, without warning.

Good girl.

I fucked her in silence, or so I thought. Amy told me the next day, when she dared bring up the previous day’s fuck, that I had been growling deep in my throat from time to time. The kinda growl she pays close attention too.

Could be. I was focused on other things.

I pulled her legs up, and held her thighs open with my biceps, while I had her put her arms down along her sides, where I grasped her wrists, essentially pinning her to the bed, unable to move her legs nor her arms.

Then I fucked her.

Often fucking is a below the waist thing, all hips and pelvic thrusts.

Not now. I full body fucked her, my weight unsupported by my arms, which were busy holding her legs apart and immobilizing her wrists. I drove into her with the force and weight of my full body, forgoing any pretense of making this pleasurable, or even comfortable for her.

This was my fuck.

I fucked her in a few different ways, always pinning her, immobilizing her, not letting her free.

Until I wanted her wetter.

Two ways work for making Amy even wetter. Have her suck my cock, and making her masturbate. I like making her suck my cock, especially when she chocks and almost vomits. I love hearing her gag when I thrust deep down her throat.

But I wanted to rest a moment, let her get wet, and then cum in her. So I told her to masturbate.

I’m not a cruel man. She’d been a good enough girl, compliant, obedient, if a little scared, so I told her “I’ll give you two minutes. If you can cum in two minutes, fine. Otherwise, you aren’t getting to cum.”

Amy begged to have longer, to be allowed to cum, but as I said before, this wasn’t her fuck. I’m giving her two minutes, then I’m finishing her off.

She started to masturbate.

I may have played with her tits through the t-shirt, I don’t remember. I remember reaching down to check her wetness, and deciding her little cunt was close to what I wanted, and that I was going to fuck her shortly.

I think she whimpered.

I didn’t feel very patient. I wanted to fuck the little slut NOW.


I had promised two minutes.

I gave her two minutes.

I went to open her legs and climb between them, and she resisted. Or maybe she didn’t resist. Her legs were just stiff. Usually her legs open easily for me, especially when she’s scared of me, but this time she felt unusually rigid.

No problem. I forced her legs open firmly, and a part of my brain suddenly thought that she might be cumming at that instant, which would explain the rigidity of her body. I figured I might be wrecking her orgasm, interrupting it, but what the fuck. I gave the little cunt two minutes, and now I want her.

She told me the next day that she was indeed cumming, and that she was making little cumming noises. Whatever. I didn’t notice them. I wanted her cunt.

I thrust back into her again.

I fucked her, pinning her in some fashion, I’m not sure what now. But I remember her biting me, biting my shoulder repeatedly, maybe my arms and chest too, it’s hard to be clear. Amy fucks like a wild animal. A scared wild animal, but a wild animal nonetheless. She bites, she writhes, she moans, she claws- none of which she can remember after. I’ve been carrying bite marks and bruises since we met. I counted eleven distinct bruises one day, all in varying degrees of visibility.

She can bite all she wants. I’m all cock and violence, fucking her pinned pussy. It occurs to me, dimly, that she might already at this moment be pregnant.

I like the thought.

In another moment, in all the struggling and chaos of fucking her, forcing her, I empty into her.

I flood her with cum; with my sperm.

I feel primal. I want to see the cunt pregnant.

I want to make her belly swell.

How can I treat her like an object and still love her?

A rough morning yesterday for Amy. She’s been trying to imagine how one can be property, an owned possession, and still be loved. Her thinking is that you can’t be in love with something that you treat as chattel, and so she ended up feeling very vulnerable and in tears worried that I couldn’t love her, and own her as well.

Complicated. How do I treat her like an object, and yet still love her?

If I control her fully, can she still willingly choose to love me?

Good questions.

Even better: how can I love her, and yet deliberately cause her physical pain, for my own enjoyment?

Fortunately, I am pretty comfortable not trying to define this sort of thing. It seems like trying to warp an extraordinary relationship into the confines of a typically mainstream relationship.

I approach it like this: I love her, and with her as a partner seek to explore the natural extremes of dominance and submission in us both.

I’ve been with partners who did not want to be dominated. Emotionally, I couldn’t go to places as intense with them, because we stayed closer to the risk free boundaries of the mainstream. I always assumed that I could not do the extremes of domination with a partner I loved, because that love would preclude any desire to force, or hurt them.

Such is not the case.


I enjoy forcing Amy.

I enjoy forcing her to accept sensations, both pleasant and unpleasant. I find security in knowing that she will let me choose what I want, and that she will find her pleasure in knowing that I am satisfied.

For Amy, as she has told me, she loves knowing that she doesn’t have to make sure I am pleased; that she doesn’t have to worry about guessing what I want, or fretting over whether she has done what I want. I tell her what I want. No sugar coating. And she does it. She does it, or there are consequences.

The consequences are important. Knowing that there are consequences lets her obey without questioning, because the penalties for non-compliance are worse than complying in the first place. As I tell her, “You can obey immediately, and with a smile, or you can obey upon reflection, ruefully rubbing your chastened ass. Either way, you will obey.”

Her nature is to obey me. I have not seen deliberate disobedience from her.

But I still hurt her.

I like to hurt her.

To take away her air, to spank, to slap, to cause her pain in all kinds of delicious ways lets me dominate her all the time, because she knows that I am quite willing to hurt her for my own pleasure, so to hurt her for a punishment for disobedience is not going to be a problem for me.

Amy is not a masochist. She hates pain. She does like the feeling she gets after I hurt her though, an emotional security of feeling owned, that I will do what I want with her, and not simply play at dominating her.

I am a sadist. I have been with masochists, and found it less than compelling. Why hurt someone that wants to be hurt?

I have no interest in hurting random people. I only want to dominate, to hurt the woman I love. I am not interested in the bdsm lifestyle some choose of multiple “slaves”, for example. I am entirely focused on dominating Amy, and making her mine.

Isn’t that a fairly mainstream desire? Making her mine?

Isn’t that what most people talk about doing in a relationship?

I want to make Amy mine. I do it two ways, by giving her both pleasure and pain.

And thus I own her. The same as any member of a couple owns the other, in their relationships. They just usually bond through pleasure, perhaps. Amy and I bond in additional ways. These are ways that suit us. They do not suit everyone. But the bond I suspect is much like the bond of love that binds any couple to each other.

Again, I don’t need to really define what Amy and I do with each other, although it is fun to try. I just love us together, in all our infinite variety and passion.

When you realize you aren’t like the other girls…

Really I’ve got about 20 minutes, so I scurried up to our hotel room, hoping against hope that Richard would be here and I could at least get groped up, if not a quickie (he’s not much of a quickie guy; our quickies tend to morph into…what’s the opposite of quickie?)

He’s not here. Wah. That’s why I’m posting a quick blog update instead.

****Serious disruption to blogging caused by Richard coming back to the room and jumping me*****

We’re in New Orleans and, wow, this is serious Sin City. So far we’ve gotten: clover clamps (for nipples), a micro mini schoolgirl skirt, fishnet stockings and…A CORSET (pics to come)!!!


Oh, also a whole bunch of Gor books from a used bookstore. Richard says we can sell them on eBay for a fortune, but I’m keen to read them myself. I’m assuming anyone into D/s knows Gor, but for those who don’t: it’s a series written in I think the 60s and 70s about a planet where women are slaves and men are warriors. Badly written, over the top dramatic, but also dead sexy. My parents had one of them – Slavegirl of Gor, I think – and I read it while still a sprite. One of those early “aha” experiences, when you realize that you aren’t like other girls…

More later!

Butterfly style nipple clamps

Busy weekend, more to report on later, but last night I got Amy a very short schoolgirl skirt and some Japanese Butterfly style nipple clamps. The regular nipple clamps keep pulling off during the lightest of our rough play, which is pretty frustrating.

Good night last night, although we didn’t manage to actually get the nipple clamps out of the package. The skirt we managed to get her into.