Gone Fishin'...

 

Beautiful view from the boat!

Yesterday, Daddy woke me at the ungodly hour of 4:30 am for a day on the lake and river fishing with him.  Despite all my complaints about how early and dark it was, it really turned out to be a beautiful morning.  There is just something breathtaking about watching the sun rise. 

Although, I'm not much for fishing myself, I just sat back enjoying my coffee, surfing the internet on my phone, and talking with Him while He did His thing.

It started out pretty chilly but once the sun was up above us, it heated up in a hurry so I slipped out of my warm-ups and shirt, revealing the bathing suit tiny pieces of fabric I had on underneath.

Daddy recently bought me several micro-bikinis, which are really only suitable to wear somewhere we can be alone.  So, I thought what a perfect opportunity.  The small see-through triangles of black and white polka dots were slightly covering all my girlie parts, and with only a string riding up my backside, the bruises left from our play, days before, were quite obvious.  I think He approved of my choice:)

After a little while, Daddy detoured off the river proper into a very hidden and private cove, hoping to have better luck.  As He stood in the boat, casting His rod and seeming to be somewhat disinterested in whatever I was doing, He told me that I needed to take off my bathing suit.  I gladly did and for all of my inhibitions, I have come to love being naked in nature (when I know people aren't around of course).

It wasn't long after that when He caught His first one of the day and He informed me we were playing a little game. 

For every fish He caught, I had to masturbate to orgasm.  So, with one foot propped up on either side of the boat, I put on a little show for Him, even if He was only watching out of the corner of His eye.

After He caught a second fish and I enjoyed a second orgasm, He decided it was time for me to suit back up and we moved out of the cove back into the river.  Even though it was HOT as hell touching myself for Him out in the open like that, I'm certainly kind of glad it wasn't one of His most bountiful fishing trips!! That might have made for a long day without any vibrators or other helpers on board. 

Now at this point, we had been on the water for hours and hadn't passed a single person.  Then, another couple came upon us from the opposite direction and slowed down.  They asked if we had any luck and Daddy called out "two" and they gave the thumbs up. 

Well, it took a couple minutes after they had moved on before it dawned on me.  I was sitting there in a see-through bathing suit.  Oh geez...I had totally forgotten!!  No wonder they gave the thumbs up!

Is it possible that I am getting a little more comfortable with exposure? 

I doubt it but at least, in this situation, it didn't seem to bother me too much.  Maybe it does say a lot though that I wasn't consciously thinking about my suit being see-through the whole time we were out there. 

As we made our way back down the river to the lake,  I spent some time practicing my selfie picture taking skills since Daddy reminded me that I haven't been doing a very good job keeping my blog updated with pictures.  

Swim Suit Series

Swim Suit Series

 

Unintended Consequences

As I sit here today, on my very sore and bruised ass, I think back to last night standing in closet.
  
Daddy said I asked for it...yet I don't specifically remember asking for it. 

He pointed out that I had been dancing around all evening and shaking my butt all over the place.  And If I intended to entice Him, it had worked.
 
OK...so maybe I did asked for it without saying the words.

But the last thing on my mind was a spanking. Guess I had really forgotten what a good one of those was like, it's been so long.

20 objects of my choice...
10 licks with each...
200 licks total

Maybe, I ought to have been more careful with some of my choices...just saying!

It's Not Really About Humiliation

Some readers have commented or sent messages inquiring as to if or when Heron might have a contribution for this blog.

I should probably mention that He is a very private and quiet person. However, I always find, when He does speak up, His words are well thought out and very enlightening.

It took a while, but He finally took the opportunity to comment on my recent post (In)Decently Exposed. Admittedly, it really was a good one for Him to comment on given that the topic is something I struggle with greatly and I have a hard time understanding why that aspect of our dynamic is so important for Him.

For me, His perspective was extremely insightful and I thought it could really stand as it's own post. Plus, for those of you inquiring, I didn't want you to miss it.

So, I have copied and pasted His response and associated references below.

To me there is something enticing about watching your discomfort when you know you have to present yourself...your body...in a public arena.

Now you know, I would never put you in a situation that would put us in jeopardy, so it doesn't bother me that you are wearing a thin t-shirt that displays your delicious assets!

I get that most women are not in the least bit turned on by humiliation Women are constantly faced with cat-calls, whistles, wandering eyes, accidental touches, etc.
I think it is important to understand that it is not your humiliation that I crave.

The distinction lies in the definition of what is happening to you. It is not your humiliation that either of us respond to. Rather, it is your embarrassment. When you have on skin tight clothes that are showing glimpses of the treats underneath, it embarrasses you. Your embarrassment and the fact that I am taking you out of your comfort zone entices me! (Does it entice you? We both know the answer to that. Don't we pet?).

Warren and Warren (2008) noted that humiliation makes the recipient feel less valued, less treasured and bad about the self-image. Showing off your body may be embarrassing, but it is because you have a great body that I acknowledge it and show it off. In turn, that should bring you a greater sense of self-worth (Warren & Warren, 2008).

This should happen for two reasons. First, despite your fears, you overcome your hesitation and doubt and successfully accomplish the task presented to you. The other reason, is that you have pleased your master.

It is for those very reasons that I will continue to see just how far down the rabbit hole you are willing to go.

Love you my pet!

Warren, J., & Warren, L. (2008). The loving dominant (3rd ed.). Oakland, CA: Greenery Press.



By the way, He also requested that I add a picture of the shirt in question to the His collection of  favorite Pics.

The Right Touch

Something I have thought about a lot lately is touch because over the years, I have come to realize that I am just not a touchy-feely person.  In fact, sometimes it's as if there is an invisible box around me, with only a few people that are granted entrance inside.  I definitely am not the type of person to intrude into someone else's personal space while talking nor do I reach out to casually touch them, and I appreciate when people respect my space in return. However, I understand some people thrive on touch and that's ok.  If I'm not comfortable, I just attempt to move slightly and re-establish my invisible box.     

Of course, my kids seem to own the key to this imaginary box of mine, barging in whenever they feel like. But that's different and perfectly fine with me for the most part.  There are days when I am touched out and I have to say "ok...mommy needs some space" but I try to remind myself that this precious time is short and one day they won't be interested in sitting on my lap (even though they are really too big for that now) or sharing snuggles.

The dogs are kind of like this too.  No sense trying to create space with them because they force themselves in my lap anyways.  With cute faces and wagging tails, who can resist?

Now, Daddy is altogether different.  With Him, I have no imaginary box or boundaries.  I want to be in His personal space as much as I need for Him to be in mine...all the time. Nothing makes my thoughts spiral out of control faster than a lack of physical connection between us and I'm not just referring to intimacy.  I'm talking about a hug, a brush on my arm or back, sitting at His feet with my head in His lap, anything.  His touch has the power to keep me grounded through everything life throws at us. 

Speaking of touch and grounding, this makes me think about what happens when electricity passes through two people in love or lust.  Not the figurative "spark", even though after all this time together, Daddy's touch still lights me up and makes my stomach flutter.  What I am talking about is electricity literally running though Him...and into me. 

I've mentioned the Violet Wand before and how much we both love that toy.  Well, there is an adaptor (or Body Contact Accessory) that allows the person wielding the wand to become the conductor. 

The metal plate fits snuggly against His skin (He likes to tuck it inside the waist of His pants) and the other end then plugs into where the glass of the wand would normally be inserted.  With one hand, He can hold the base of the wand, leaving His other hand to freely roam around touching and zapping my body.

There is a slight downside though.  It zaps the "giver" as much as it does the "receiver" when skin connects.  Him being the sadist, wasn't too much impressed with that the first time He tried it.   

But the other day He pulled it out and tried it again.  He spent some time working me over with the wand itself before hooking up the attachment.  At first, He just lightly touched my stomach with one finger and we both flinched as it delivered a nice shocked to us both. 

Eventually, His hand and fingers were sending shock waves of electricity along my stomach, the inside of my thighs, and across my tits.  Finally, His fingers made their way to that ever so sensitive spot between my legs. 

I tried several times to write about how hot this was and I just don't think I can do it justice so I will leave it as a moment between Him and I...and your imagination! 

 

When one flesh is waiting, there is electricity in the merest contact-Wallace Stegner

          

(In)Decently Exposed

A-shirts (or wife-beaters as so many of us call them)...those darn little shirts!  What else can I say? 

Plenty actually.  Let me start with...

I really hate that Daddy loves them so much. But of course He loves them.

They are tight, see-through, and best of all, He can torment me by making me wear them. Something to make me squirm right out of my comfort zone for sure!!

One of my assignments several weeks ago was to purchase the smallest size wife-beater I could possibly fit into. I walked back and forth in Wal-Mart agonizing over what size to buy.  Nothing from the men's department was small enough, so I ended up in the boy's department wondering if anything there was big enough.  To make matters worse, unless I was missing something, they only sell them in sealed packages like T-shirts so it's not like you can take one in the dressing room and try it on.  Looking around to make sure no one was watching, I tore the pack open so I could at least pull one out.

Holding it up against myself, I decided it would work and now didn't feel so bad since I was buying the pack I already ripped opened.   

Later that night, I came into His office with shirts in hand showing that I had completed His assignment.  He asked that I model one for Him.  When I finally contorted myself enough to get it on, the shirt (does it even qualify as a shirt?) was so small that the ribbed texture was pulled taut across my tits and was short enough to expose several inches of my belly.  Oh and let's not forget to mention that no part of my nipples were left to the imagination, which of course, pleased Him immensely above all else. 

After explaining that He would have plans for the shirts at a later time, He sent me to put them away for safe keeping. 

Well, it just so happened that I noticed one of those wife-beaters made it into His car just a few short days later.  Seeing it there every time we went anywhere made me extremely nervous but after a couple weeks, I eventually stopped thinking about it.   

So, a few nights ago, we were enjoying a nice evening out to dinner, just the two of us.  The waiter set down my pomegranate margarita and after the first sip, I commented on how strong the alcohol was. 

I suggest you drink two then, since you will be wearing your wife-beater into the gas station before we go home. 

It really took a second for this to sink in because I was already scantily clad, wearing a tank top without a bra and shorty shorts to dinner.  What was the big deal about going into the gas station in what I was wearing if I had gone into a restaurant? 

Then it occurred to me what He meant.  He was referring to the "other" shirt that had been patiently waiting in His car for just the right opportunity. 

I tried to stay calm during throughout the rest of dinner and just tell myself...Maybe Daddy's toying with my mind again.

But I started getting a little worried after dinner when He detoured, and we were no longer driving in the direction of home. 

Then, I got ALOT worried when He told me to change shirts.

Much to my relief, after about a 30 minute drive, we ended up at a park. 

Whew...He was messing with my mind, I thought to myself. 

It was almost dark and pretty much deserted so I didn't mind being somewhat exposed when He parked the car and headed up a small trail into the woods.  But it really was getting dark, so after walking just a little ways and sneaking in a few kisses, we turned back. 

As we got to the car, I mentioned how I really needed to pee so He stopped by a restroom we had passed, still within the park.  I ran up to the door only to find it already locked up for the night, but I assured Him it was no big deal...I could make it home.

However, as we turned onto the main road after exiting the park, I spotted a gas station.  The sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach told me He was about to turn in and He did.  Even as He pulled up into the parking spot, I clung to hope that it was all still part of His sadistic mind game.  It wasn't though and I knew it wasn't when He handed me His debit card and a lottery ticket. 

You are going to go inside, go to the bathroom, get me a diet coke, and cash in this lottery ticket. 

"You really want me to do this?"

Yes, go!

"But there are people sitting right there...and...and...look you can see!" (pointing to my chest, like He didn't already know)

I'm not telling you again...GO...right now!

I just had to find a few moments of courage and hope that there weren't too many people inside but it sure would have helped if the alcohol hadn't already worn off.  Luckily, we were no where close to home so at least the chances of running into anyone we knew were slim to none.

I closed the car door and as I walked in front of the car parked next to us, I just knew the woman in the front passenger seat was staring at me. I'm sure any meager attempt to casually hide my chest behind the lottery ticket was fruitless. 

Walking into the convenience store, I instantly turned to the right avoiding the path that would lead me right past the registers and people.  I made it to the bathroom fairly unnoticed and took care of business.  While washing my hands, I studied myself in the mirror and shifted the shirt around to see if there was any way to disguise my nipples, even just a little bit, but there wasn't. Couldn't stand there forever, so I just decided to get on with it.   

Leaving the bathroom, I retraced my previous path back to the coolers where I grabbed His diet soda.  Again, I had gone unnoticed.  Then, I looked around and made a bee line for the register while the cashier had her back turned and there was no one else around.  As the cashier turned around to ring me up, she either was trying really hard not to look at my boobs or the counter between us acted as a pretty good buffer because she didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. 

I wasn't out of the woods quite yet.  I still had to walk out of the store and back to the car.  Sure enough, the woman in the parked car, who watched me walk in, was still sitting there and now a man was occupying the driver's seat.  Call me paranoid, but I am pretty sure they were waiting for me come out, most likely hoping to confirm if they really saw what they thought they saw.  Well, they certainly had front row seats now didn't they?! 

Nothing I could do at that point but let them have their little look-see while I kept my eyes on Daddy and made it back to the car. 

There have been plenty of limits He can push and eventually whatever my hang-up is with that particular thing seems fade away after a while.  I don't know about this one though.  It just never seems to get any easier, and I suppose that's why He keeps at it.     
  

A Year Ago...

It's been exactly one year since He placed His collar around my neck.  What a special time that was in our lives.  It's crazy...crazy that a year has already passed.

In honor of this one year anniversary and how much it means to me, I thought I would make a compilation of excerpts from several blog posts during the days leading up to and including our collaring ceremony.  Feel free to follow the links if you would like to read each post in it's entirety. 
_______________________________________________________________________

For the first time in at least 10 years...we are completely alone.  One week with no work, no responsibilities, or anyone in the house with us.

Friday evening, the start of our vacation and first night home together, Master takes me in the bedroom and explains to me for the this time that we have...there is one thing that I must very clearly understand.

He says very firmly, "Remember, everything is just because I can".  

from Just Because He can

________________________________________________________________________

All week, I had been mentally preparing and patiently awaiting what was to start yesterday with a mix of excitement and fear.  Master told me that He had several intense scenes planned over a period of a few days that would be meant to challenge my physical and emotion strength and test my commitment and complete surrender as His slave.  The first of these "tests" took place last night. 

He called the scene "At the "Cross"roads".  When all was said and done, this was by far the longest session we have had, at a little over 3 hours and little did I know, would mainly focus on the one thing I fear the most...having my tits whipped.

Starting with a light flogger, He begins to lick gently at my stomach, then easing up to my tits and down to my pussy.  I try to relax into it and enjoy the light stimulation as He continues across the front of my body but in the back of mind know that His gentleness will not last.  Gradually, He increases intensity and speed until I hear myself moaning with each stroke contacting my body, caught somewhere between a little bit of pain but also a little bit of pleasure.  Changing to a heavy flogger, He again starts easy and works His way up to harsher, more deliberate strikes, until I am crying out in agony with almost each stroke, particularly the ones that make contact with my overly sensitive nipples.  As my cries turn to sobs, I am still determined to take what He has to give, trusting that He will know how far to push me.  He encourages me to breathe through it, to find my focus...pushing me through the last few more lashes.

As He eases me off the cross, I collapse into His arms still sobbing, shaking, and completely fatigued.  He holds me and assures me of how good I did. And once I have composed myself, He offers me water pointing to the bowl sitting on the floor in the corner of the room.  Knowing what this means, without hesitation or shame, I quickly drop to my hands and knees and crawl to the bowl quickly lapping at the water like a puppy.  When He isn't looking, I glance down at my battered tits to see the welts and lash marks already forming and whimper in pain, hoping that my tits won't have to endure any more for the evening.  Once I quenched my thirst, I assume the kneeling pose as instructed with my face down on the floor and He knows I am ready to resume.

from "Crossroads: A Night of Riding the Cross (Part 1)
______________________________________________________________________

Almost too shaken at this point to drink any water, He sits down in front of me again, kisses me, and explains that this is the final time I will be on the cross should I so chose.  However, if I chose this final round, I will step up to the cross and beg Him to be strap me on and whip my tits.

This time, without the blindfold, He walks up to me with the heavy flogger and begins to lightly lash across my stomach first.  It's not often, I get to see Him working.  With just the hint of a grin on His face, He is so handsome and consumed by what He is doing...I can't help but fall in love a little more as I watch Him.  It's obvious, He is being easier than earlier but my skin is already on fire.  As He moves to my tits, I pull against the restraints and cry out as He reminds me to breathe.  Finally, He tells me only two more, one on each nipple and I am to thank Him for each.  Staring directly into His eyes as a reminder to myself of why I can endure this,  the flogger lands on my right nipple, and despite the searing pain, I find myself choking out the words, "THANK YOU MASTER FOR WHIPPING MY NIPPLE!".  And the same follows for the left.  Relief floods though me as He unstraps me and pulls me into His arms.  I can feel how turned on He is and He is kissing me so hard and passionately, my body just melts against Him.

from "Crossroads: A Night of Riding the Cross (Part 2)
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He had designed this moment so beautifully and will be one that I will never forget.  He asked me to remove my clothes and kneel at His feel as I felt the smooth metal of the collar as it was locked around my neck signifying to us both that I belong to Him completely. 

He had something prepared that He wanted to say...some vows so to speak.  The short version is that He promised to guide and protect me, honor my feelings and needs, and tend to my happiness, health, and well-being.  I, in turn, accepted to follow Him on this journey, and to serve and belong to Him. 

Then He began read to me an excerpt from a book and I could no longer hold back my tears.   

The story told of  a man becoming completely "intoxicated" by the song of a Nightbird.  The sound of this Nightbird consumed his thoughts and so "enraptured" him that it consumed his soul.  Choking up as He spoke (which let me say does not happen typically), He explained that I am His Nightbird.   

The front of the tag on my collar is engraved with the words..."Owned by Heron"

The back is engraved with the words..."As I Own His Heart".

from the Collaring of Nightbird
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A Mouth Full

Conduct rule #3:

 

I am not allowed to swear at home or at work.

 

So, it's not surprising when I yelled, "G_ _ D_ _ _ _ _ !!" out the front door, after the dog ran out for the second time in a row, that I earned myself a punishment.

 

The little brat...she's made a quite a habit of bolting as soon as she sees the slightest opportunity and she's so quick.  You don't stand a chance getting your hands on her.  No sense in chasing her around the neighborhood either.  The only option is to wait until she decides to come home.

 

Anyways, as soon as GD popped out of my mouth, I knew I had done it.  A couple days earlier, He'd even warned me I was really pushing it lately, not necessarily for cursing but just in general.  Little things were starting to add up, and this one was going to be the final straw. 

 

My hand flew up over my mouth in shock, not just because Daddy clearly witnessed my transgression but so did my father-in-law, who quite honestly has probably never uttered words like that in his whole life.  This certainly wasn't going to help my case.     

 

But all I could do was wait for it and wonder...all afternoon and all evening.

 

Finally, after the littlest one was in bed, He called me in the bedroom and ordered me to take my clothes off.  Then He led me into the bathroom.   

 

Do you know how you are going to be punished?

 

Thinking that He took me into the bathroom where it would be more quiet, I meekly replied, a spanking.

 

Oh, NO!  Don't you wish it was a spanking!

 

After turning me around to face the sink and mirror, I saw what He intended.  The yellow bar of soap lying beside the sink made me cringe.   

 

Now do you know how you are going to be punished?

 

Yes, Daddy.  You are going to wash my mouth out with soap.

 

Quite a fitting punishment, don't you think?  We are going to wash all those dirty words out of your mouth. 

 

He had me open up while He pressed it in.  I clamped my mouth around it and felt my teeth sink in as I bit down slightly to keep it  in place.  He then sent me off to stand in the corner of the closet.   

 

As I stood there, I thought really how fortunate I was.  This wasn't so bad...there were worse punishments. 

 

But I should know better than to think that...

 

I heard His footsteps after just a few minutes and when He came in the closet He told me to turn and face Him.  With the bar still firmly in my mouth, He began thumping each of my nipples, alternating sides over and over as I tried desperately to wriggle away and the soap muffled my yelps of pain.  

 

Just when I thought He was done, He took me back to the sink and told me to spit the bar out into His hands.  He held it under the water and worked up a good lather, had me open my mouth back up and then used the suds on His fingers and hands to completely coat the inside of my mouth.

 

Oh my goodness...how awful!  YUK!  YUK!  YUK! 

 

And apparently, gagging was not an option because when I did, He curtly informed me there would be none of that or I would find myself holding the bar of soap in my mouth for hours.

 

With my mouth and tongue fully coated, He pressed the bar back into my mouth until one end of it was touching the back of my throat and the other end was just peeking out from my lips.  I stood there, desperately trying not to gag. 

 

After a couple more minutes, He finally let me take it out and told me I would want to rinse really well so it didn't make me sick.  

 

I really wish I could say the whole ordeal worked.  Unfortunately, when the dog bolted yet again today, I just might have yelled, "DAMN DOG". 

 

How could I do that after just being punished last night?  I really don't enjoy disappointing Him! 

 

My first thought was lucky for me Daddy is taking a nap.  I even went up to check and see if He was really sleeping.  He was out cold...didn't hear a thing.  It would have been so easy to let it slide. 

 

But that didn't feel right so I went ahead and owned up to it.  That's gotta count for something, right?

 

He thanked me for telling Him and told me we'd deal with it later.  Now, back to waiting and wondering...    

 

  

 

Slavery with Poise, Grace, and Sophistication

Slavery and servitude while exhibiting a certain poise, grace and sophistication... 

This is what I am supposedly striving for, I know.  But in reality, the execution of this concept seems to elude this very seriously klutzy, clumsy girl.

I am THAT girl...the one you can't take anywhere. 

You know the one that always spills food on herself.  Yep...that's me.  And it's always a bit embarrassing how Daddy has to point out that I have some speck of food dangling from my chin or smeared on my face.  What's worse, is now my kids have taken to pointing this out.
 
Then the other day, we were out on a family walk 7 mile hike in the woods, and of course, I trip over just about every rock and tree root.  At one point, my eldest, who was leading the way, yells back..."You ok mom?  Did you trip?"  To which Daddy replies, "Is your mom walking? Then yes, she tripped!" 

But today...today takes the cake!  I mentioned in my post the other day about knocking my cup and spilling coffee not on myself, but on Daddy just as we were all loaded up in the car to go out of town.  Well, me and coffee must have this thing going right now and it's not pretty. 

I met Daddy at His office today for lunch.  Before leaving, I poured myself a cup of coffee to enjoy on the ride back to my office.  With empty containers from lunch in my left hand and coffee in my right, I go to open the glass door of the office suite and somehow lose the grip on my cup.  Thankfully, I kept it from hitting the floor, but in the process, sloshed it all over my hand, down the door and onto the floor.  Of course, this had to happen right in front of two of His co-workers.  Ignoring the searing pain (because it was HOT coffee, you know!), I quickly ran and got papertowels to clean up my mess but the whole ordeal was pretty embarrassing.

It would be a bad enough story if that was the end of it...but OH NO...that's not the end of this story. 

After dutifully cleaning up the mess I had made and kissing Him goodbye, I continued on down the elevator.  Obviously, at this point, I am being ever so careful as I reach the main floor and approach the door leading to the outside the building.  Still holding the coffee, I put my right arm out to push open the door because I CAN DO THIS without making an idiot of myself.  From the other side, a gentleman approaches and begins to pull the door open for me. 

How nice!!

Except that part where my sleeve got caught on the handle of the door and despite my best efforts to NOT make another mess, some of my coffee sloshed out of the cup and right onto his shoes! 

Oh God, it doesn't get much more embarrassing than spilling something on a perfect stranger.

So, I guess the lesson here is that I am meant to enjoy coffee only in the safety of my own home or at my desk and not on the run! 

But the bigger lesson...apparently I have a lot of work ahead with that poise, grace and sophistication thing! 

Playing Alone

Wednesday night I could feel all the tell-tale signs.  Certain parts of my body would soon be out of commission for Daddy's use.  As I happened to be showering off after our walk, He came in, pulled open the shower door, and took in a glance. 

When He closed the door and started to walk away, I squirmed around trying to find the words. 

Just so you are aware, I think come tomorrow, I might be wearing my red necklace. 

Anyways, my not so subtle hint seemed to go fairly unnoticed until I was standing naked in front of the vanity mirror and drying my hair.  He came back in the bathroom and patted my butt.  Leaning close to my ear, He told me not to bother coming out of the bedroom until I had given myself five orgasms.

Not really the direction I was expecting but who's complaining...right?  He closed the bedroom door behind Him and disappeared to the office, leaving me to my business.

I was aroused, but not really 5 orgasms aroused, so I started plundering through the toy cabinet looking for the heavy artillery that could help me get the job done. 

Well...He didn't specifically say anything was off limits!   

Daddy got quite a surprise and chuckled out loud when He came back in the room.  At that point, I had only gotten through number 4 and there was chaos all over the bedroom. 

Towel on the bed...

Magic wand attachment lying on the nightstand table...

Kong well used and lying in the sink...

And I was sitting on the exercises bench looking sheepish, holding the magic wand, with a wooden spoon lying beside me.  I'm a little embarrassed to admit what I actually was doing.  Let's just say at that point...I needed a little extra stimulation if number 5 was ever going to happen. 

I have to give mc kitten over at Pillow Talk credit because her recent post and some of the follow-up comments made me reflect back on this task of masturbating alone.  I really admire those who are more comfortable doing this in the presence of their significant other.

Certainly, I prefer that He is an active participant because I need and crave that emotional connection and let's face it...it's just more fun that way! 

But this isn't always how He wants it.  Sometimes, He just wants me to touch or please myself. Possibly, it's for His own entertainment. At times, it's for my own build up or relief of sexual tension. But I venture to say, in most cases, is just because He can. 

Maybe I'm a bit odd, but I actually would rather do this alone.  Of course, I will "perform" for Him if asked but I don't know...I just feel so awkward and self conscious, particularly if He is just watching and not participating.

As long as we have been together, it really doesn't make sense and I don't understand why, but I do know this shyness ultimately inhibits my own exploration and overall experience.

In thinking about why I prefer it this way, I realized there is a positive side in that I have probably stretched some of my own limits when experimenting by myself, particularly when tasked with multiples orgasms like the other night. Multiples, for me, don't come (pun intended) easily so I have to push myself further, both physically and mentally.

Maybe Daddy understands this, and uses it as just one of His many ways to nudge me...

deeper into my own dark desires and fantasies...

to a place of acknowledging and accepting their existence.

Ms. Sassy Pants

Daddy made a last minute decision this week that we would take the kids out of town today, traveling several hours to meet up with some family. 

This morning came and it was the usual chaos trying to get everyone ready and out of the house.  Daddy was fussing at all us girls to hurry up and get in the car as we ran around finishing up hair and packing snacks and drinks for the ride. 

Of course, I was the last one in the car because I had to try and get the dog to go to the bathroom one more time.  With everyone waiting on me, I climbed in the mini-van, laptop in hand (because I had to blog of course) and the corner of my laptop bumped my coffee which was sitting in the middle console.

and wouldn't you know...

DROPS OF COFFEE SPLASHED OUT OF MY TRAVEL MUG AND LANDED ALL OVER HIS DRESS PANTS!!

Oh gosh, when I say He was not happy, that is an understatement!

I apologized and explained that if He cleaned it off fast enough, it wouldn't leave a stain so He disappeared into the house to clean up after my clumsiness. 

Then as we drove along, you know how it is...someone is always complaining that it's too hot, then too cold.  I reached over and tried to adjust the temperature.  Well, He fussed at me for that.

So now you are assuming what temperature I want!

Pulling back my hand, I looked at Him apologizing with a big grin on my face. 

I'm sorry...forgot that you are Master of the air.

Now, this wasn't meant as intentional disrespect.  That would not be acceptable but it was my brave little attempt to lighten the mood.  Whether he found it as humorous as I did or not is probably up for debate.  But He looked so darn handsome when He calmly readjusted His glasses with that slightly wicked grin.

Someone must really be asking for it today!

So I'm typing this while we are driving and He is wondering why the big grin on my face...

...Guess I better put Ms. Sassy Pants away and be on my very best...est behavior.  Wouldn't want to poke at the beast too much or else I'll get more than I bargained for!!


   

When Daddy's Not Happy

I knew I screwed up on Tuesday.  I actually knew it before He even got home.  Lately, I have been running 90 miles a minute with projects galore piled up.  He has been very patient but it seems that I am constantly distracted by everyone else's demands. 

One daughter was on my case about remodeling her room. 

The other daughter, "Can we go shopping?...Can we go to the movies?...Can my friends spend the night?".  This list actually could go on and on. 

My own mom even started chiming in (even though she is a guest in our home)..."When are you going to clean and stain the deck?" because she wants to clean the downstairs patio. 

Urrrggg...I would really love it all to stop but here's the thing.  I have this terrible habit of twisting myself inside out, trying to keep everyone happy.  Don't get me wrong either.  I also really do love to get myself engrossed in projects.  My girls and I are all a little obsessive that way.

So, the last couple weeks, I have finished the bedroom remodel, in between running the other one and her friends around all over the place.  Then after getting in from work on Tuesday, I got tired of listening to my mom hint around so I went upstairs, changed clothes and started cleaning the deck. 

Before I knew it, I came inside for just a minute, looked at the clock and it said 6:20.  Knowing that Daddy would be home shortly, I quickly got dinner started, gave my older one instructions to get the noodles started after the water boiled and ran back outside to try and get finished before Daddy got home. 

Now, there is no hard fast rule about what time dinner should be ready but He does like it to be ready soon after He gets in and most nights, that is exactly how things work.  Unfortunately, the last bit of the deck was taking a bit more time and effort so I had lost track of time.  Daddy got in before I was done and took to finishing the dinner preparations Himself.

Yes...I very easily could have stopped trying to multi-task and focused on finishing dinner.  The deck would still have been there later.  But despite my better judgment, the drive to finish what I started took over.

It was all over His face when I came in as He was putting dinner on the table.  And if I had any doubt whether He was upset or not, the uncomfortable silence from His end of the table all through dinner made it very clear.

I tried several times later to talk to Him about it, wanting Him to tell me why He was upset.  But honestly, I knew.  My focus had not been on what was pleasing to Him and I felt pretty ashamed of myself. 

Finally, I just apologized for disappointing Him.  He told me not to worry about it, that it wasn't like He's told me to have dinner on the table at an exact time and I was, in fact, working hard on something.   But things were still a bit on the chilly side for a while.

So you better believe, last night, I made sure to set all other things aside and be ready when He came in the door.

 

 

A Few Firsts

Let's start with the ginger root.  Daddy had been threatening to try this for quite some time.  Each time He came home from the grocery store and had some wrapped in a bag, I would get pretty anxious, but He always just ended up using it in some new recipe.  Of course, He never passed up an opportunity to tease me with that sadistic glint in His eye whenever it came out of the fridge.

Last week though, when He pulled it out of the fridge, He intended to use it for real.  Not really in a bad way, but just trying it out sort of way.  After He skinned a piece of the root, we made our way upstairs and I joked about how with my luck I would have some horrible allergic reaction to it and it would close off my holes...LOL! 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Figging

I am happy to report, that didn't happen.  Honestly, there really isn't much to report.  He started by rubbing it on my clit.  It was cold!  That was about the extent of it, except for the fact that He was rubbing my clit which was good of course.  It got a bit more stimulating as He tested it in and around my pussy but I still didn't feel the supposed burning sensation.   

Then He told me to turn over so He could try it in my ass.  Oh, yeah!  That...I felt.  It wasn't really an intolerable burning, but it wasn't comfortable either.  And by the way, just a word of caution...clenching your butt muscles does increase the burn. 

When He took it out and rubbed it on my clit again though, I felt all warm and tingly in all the right spots which was nice. 

I learned that the technical term for using ginger in this manner is "figging".  So I looked it up on Wiki and also learned this was used a form of discipline on female slaves beginning in Ancient Greece.  Hmmm...learn something new everyday.

The next day, He pulled out a little device of torture called a spiked breast binder.  Somehow it seemed oddly appropriate that He put it on me while we watched our favorite show, Game of Thrones.  It straps on pretty tight so it was certainly uncomfortable.  To the point, that I purposely tried not to move around too much.  When He removed it, there were lots of little spike marks imprinted on my tits and I was surprised at how long the pain lasted.  For a good 30 minutes afterwards, it felt like I still had it on.  


http://www.ebay.com/itm/Womens-Sexy-Black-Bra-Breast-Binders-with-Spikes-/151266980170?pt=US_CSA_WC_Intimates&hash=item233836f14a

 

And last but not least, I learned a new cock sucking position.   I doubt it has a name but basically I was lying on my belly with my body outstretched between His legs.  He then had me bring my heels up to my butt and hold my ankles while I continued to use my mouth on Him.  Whew...that one was tough so thankfully, He didn't make me hold it too long.