Thursday, December 24, 2015

What a Year This Has Been

As I look back over this year, I think of how much has changed.

I have changed...

Heron has changed...

We both have changed separately and together. But we have grown. 

The first half of the year seemed quiet and typical. Just the two of us doing our thing.

And then I met Chrysalis, which changed my world completely.

Along with meeting her, I experienced life in a way I thought might never happen. 

Then came my being loaned.

This brought SO many new experiences, all in just a short two day period.

And let's not forget about mine and Heron's photo shoot and visiting a swingers club.

While the middle part of the year was packed full, the latter part has been largely quiet (much like this blog) except for officially becoming part of the slave registry and my pole dancing classes.  

This year has had it's share of ups.  But you know how things go.  With "ups"...there is almost always a "down".   

There has been quite a bit for each of us to process on our own and as a couple.  At times, my mind was just too pre-occupied to write, almost like I had a million things to say but couldn't find the words. 

Thankfully, Heron also finished school so in the quiet time, we have more time to spend nurturing "us".

I think it's been fairly obvious by the few posts recently, that I have been on a path of reflection and introspection.

Sometimes, the "quiet" needs to happen. 

Who knows where the path goes now.  Only time will tell.

But Heron and I would like to close out this year by saying thank you! 

To my friends here that provided advice, kind words, and support...I truly appreciate each and every one of you. 

To my lovely lurkers, I appreciate and adore you too.

To those of you that reached out seeking our advice, we are humbled and flattered. 

I wish you all...Happy Holidays and a Prosperous New Year!



"Striving unto perfection, I give of myself all I am, all I ever will be, all you will ever desire"
While I cannot claim credit for the quote as it was given to me by someone else, it speaks volumes!
 

Monday, November 30, 2015

"Sock" It to Me

It's been quite a while since I felt the sting of Heron's disappointment and the humiliation of being punished. 

Thankfully, punishments are rare these days.  Typically for us, a stern warning here and there goes a long way towards righting the ship that is beginning to steer off course.      

But there was this one thing...

You know how inevitably, one sock out of a pair always gets lost in the laundry? 

Somehow between the washer and dryer one of them just...disappears!

Well, we have been experiencing a slightly different phenomenon in our house but still relating to socks.  It's more like one never makes it to the laundry. Almost every time single time I scoop up dirty clothes, I manage to leave ONE sock behind on the floor.  And even though I feel like I double check myself all the time, it has continued to happen.

Heron has been quite patient with it, sometimes even joking about how it's now like my little "signature".  But I also knew the underlying message, in a gently way of course, was to correct the problem. 

Well, I was out with my daughter the other day when I received a text message from Him with this picture attached.



And the words...SOMEONE IS IN TROUBLE.

Now the last couple of months, Heron has been dealing with a medical issue which means life for the most part has been, well just that...life.  He ended up having minor surgery just a little over a month ago and I am happy to say He has recovered nicely.   

But that text message definitely signaled that He was getting back on the horse and ready to deal with any lack of focus on my part.

It was several days before He actually had the time to follow through on any punishment.  And like a kid, I tried extra hard those few days, hoping He might put it out of His mind. 

Nope...that didn't happen. 

The other night He told me it was time to deal with some business.  He ordered me to remove all my clothes and kneel in the middle of the bedroom floor.

Nothing had even happened yet and tears were already welling up in my eyes. As I knelt there, looking at the floor, He asked me if I understood why I was being punished.  I understood perfectly.  Didn't stop me from being angry and disappointed.   

I felt sure that my punishment would come in the form of a paddling but Heron always does know how to surprise me. 

As I knelt there, He walked away for a moment and returned with a sock.  Yes, one of His dirty socks!

Bet you can guess where that sock went!

If you guessed in my mouth, well then, you would be correct.

As He sat back on the chest at the end of our bed and folded His arms, I felt the increasing weight of His stare as I continued to keep my eyes on the floor.  Tears rolled down my cheeks and my mouth was humiliatingly full of smelly dirty sock.  And while I couldn't stand that my actions had made this necessary, I could feel the anger and disappointment fading away and the humility seeping back into my soul.  

Friday, November 27, 2015

The Slave Register

Heron has debated for a while on whether I should be added to The Slave Register.  He never believed that it was necessary for our respective roles or that it would make us any more official.  For us, the truly defining moment was our collaring ceremony. 

However, as more of a symbolic gesture, He did decide to go ahead and add me the other day.  Perhaps I underestimated how I would feel once seeing it in black and white.

https://www.slaveregister.com/

Thursday, November 19, 2015

My Sunday Date with a Sadist of a Different Kind

The room is cold and dark, lit only by the twinkling of colored lights flashing from the ceiling.

As I wait for her to come in the room, I look around nervously, not fully understanding the extent of what's to come.

It promises to be a session like no other I have experienced for sure!

Like a true sadist, she pushes me further than I thought possible.

So many times, my body screams and begs to call "red"!

But instead, I only dig deeper, intent on pushing my own physical limits.

Now, it's been been two days since that session.

The bruising isn't nearly I bad as I thought it might be.

But...

The soreness... OH MY GOSH... THE SORENESS!!!

It's a deep aching pain. You know the kind that makes something as simple as pulling up your pants seem like a chore?

Yes, it's that kind of sore!

I hurt in places and ways I didn't know that I could.

My next meeting with this sadistic woman, oh I already cringe to think.

However, despite the pain, I am proud to say I survived my first pole dancing class.

And I climbed my ass all the way to the top of that pole!

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Beyond the Words

Pearl  over at Happily Surrendered and Submissive made a comment on my last post about how my heart was in such a good place these days.  Her observation was very touching and is also spot on.  In fact, that very day, I had just posted the following as a writing on my Fetlife profile so I thought I would share it here as well...

Strip away the labels, the rules, the rituals.
True happiness lies in those things unspoken and less defined.
It's in his gentle touch and how it radiates through not just my body but also my soul.
It's in the way my heartbeat slows to match his when wrapped in his arms.
It's in his eyes when he looks into mine and knows all the hidden secrets.
It's in the way he drinks in my scent like it's a hit of his favorite drug.
It's in the way the beast peacefully slumbers once his appetite has been sated.
It's in that moment when he allows me to experience his vulnerability.
It's in a connection so powerful, we can predict what the other is thinking.
It's in knowing I would never want to spend a day on earth without him.




Thursday, November 12, 2015

The Truth

He once told me,
As I walked out the door,
Trying to turn my back on our life together, 
"No one will ever love you like I do".
What cruel words I thought.
Now I realize, He was speaking only the most sincere truth.


Wednesday, November 4, 2015

Embracing "The Girl"

As a child, I was always very adult like, partly because I was mature for my age, but mostly just because this was expected of me. Not that my childhood was horrible. But being "a child" was discouraged. I also grew up believing that I didn't have a voice, that I was responsible for others happiness, and I always had to be strong.

As an adult, life has dealt some pretty shitty blows. This is no different than anyone else, I realize that. But it's always been my job to hold it all together - be strong for everyone around me. Even when I wanted and needed to be the one to fall apart.

As a slave, I understand that sometimes I still don't have a say. And while I may not be responsible for His happiness, I am responsible for being pleasing by doing what is expected. At times, being a slave requires a strength that I feel I have acquired over my lifetime.

But for the first time in my life, I have finally accepted that someone else can and wants to take care of me in return. It's okay to feel small, to let down your walls, to allow yourself to feel just a bit needy. There is safety and security in trusting someone so completely.

Finally, I am learning to embrace "the girl" I never was.

Monday, October 12, 2015

Picture Perfect

To me, this picture is a beautiful representation of how much my life has changed in less than one short year.

I am so grateful for all the new experiences thus far and the truly wonderful people that have shared in those along the way.

photo taken by @Depraved_Eros on Fetlife

To Heron, I think this photo served as inspiration to remind me just how torturous this darn little wand could be!  Saturday night he pulled it out for a little"fun", but that's a story for another post😊

Thursday, October 8, 2015

A Little Late to the Party

Yes, I suppose I am a little late to this particular party or lagging a bit behind. 

Oh...this post may very well be filled with puns.  Haha! 

What's this party you ask?

Well it's the Glass Plug Party!



And now, I would like to officially bid thee farewell to my menagerie of silicone plugs!! You are no longer good for me.  

Why I didn't try a glass plug sooner...I have no idea. 

But you know what they say? 

Better late than never! Fashionably late is cool, right?

All this time, I guess they just seemed too intimidating...too cold...too unyielding.

However, after my escapades the weekend of my loan and having to fight that damn silicone plug to stay in the whole night, while dying a thousand deaths of embarrassment every time I had to shove it back in, I decided it was time to...take the plunge. 

Of course, after asking Heron if I could buy one, He was all too happy to help me pick one out.

So last week, my assignment was to wear it everyday from the time I got home from work until bedtime.  If I failed to have it in, sex was off the table.  Well, it was for me anyways.  It's never off the table for him.  Better believe I was on top of that assignment.   

Don't get me wrong...using a glass plug seemed to take a little more patience and relaxation, especially the first couple times I used it.  Getting past that bulbous head was a bit of a challenge but once it's in...IT'S IN!!

I literally felt as if I could do anything and it wasn't going anywhere. 

For the first time EVER, I actually enjoyed sex while plugged, without launching a missile.  Don't laugh...you know exactly what I mean.    

I'm addicted!

And if you find yourself reading this and think "Wow...the plug in that picture looks familiar." Well yes, I totally copied.  You know who you are! :-)

Saturday, October 3, 2015

Make Us Proud

Last Friday night, Heron and I had some special plans.  We met the Mistress and her boyfriend at a local swinger's club. 

The last time I had seen her was the weekend spent in her service, so I was a bit nervous, not knowing what to expect. Of course, this was also the first time Heron and I had been to this type of club so we just didn't know what to expect in general. 

The night was fun and included some girl/girl action, which was certainly a hit with all of the guys at the club.

One of the highlights had to be the wet T-shirt contest.  As soon as Heron and the Mistress heard that there would be such a contest, they agreed that I was going to be in it.

The shirts were passed around to all the contestants and then we were called down to the dance floor.   Heron sent me down with a hug and a kiss, and instructions to make him proud.

Just before the contest started, the Mistress came to the edge of the dance floor and called me over to her.  She planted a kiss on my lips and tweaked my nipples, making sure they were nice and stiff underneath my shirt.  Looking at Heron and then back to me, she said in a firm voice, "you make US proud".

Not that they really needed to worry about making them proud.  With my competitive nature, I really don't like to lose a contest.  

Standing side by side with the other women in the competition, the music started and as did the water works.  People armed with spray bottles, began dousing us as we danced to the music.  I danced as seductively as I could, pulling at my shirt as it clung to my body.  I should mention that all I was wearing besides the shirt was a towel around my waist...with nothing else underneath.  The towel was stripped off and thrown aside, bearing all my "assets" to the club, as I continued dancing for the remainder of the song.

The music stopped and the votes were taken by audience applause.  The emcee decided that there should be a stripper pole dance off between the top three. 

And I was one of the three!

My previous experience with the pole and the lessons that the Mistress gave me a couple months ago sure came in handy.  This time when the votes were taken by audience applause, I WON!

And I came home with an extra $100 in my wallet.

Thursday, October 1, 2015

Finally Here!

The pictures from our photo shoot are finally trickling in.  Four weeks of patiently waiting...and Words cannot begin to describe how excited I have been to see these!!   

Unfortunately, there are many that show our faces so I hate that I won't be able to post those but I hope you enjoy the ones I can share!

Such a simple pose but so much captured here!!

Photo taken by Depraved_Eros on Fetlife

Friday, September 18, 2015

Knowing One's Place

Seems I have competition these days for Master's attention. 

As I stand in the kitchen making dinner, I hear that all too familiar sound of the garage door letting me know Master just got home from work.

Stopping what I am doing, I take my place, kneeling down on the floor by the door so that I am the first thing he sees when he comes in. 

I wait patiently to greet each of his shoes with my kiss, which is always followed by him taking my hands and pulling me up to him for a kiss. I love this new little ritual.  

But here SHE comes again, ready to greet her Master too. 

Her eyes stare longingly at the crack of light coming from under the door.  Her ears perk because she can hear the sound of His footsteps coming from farther away than I can.

She begins pacing as she continues to wait but then stops firmly in front of me and sits down, still intent on the door.

Greedy bitch she is...tries to be the first.  Oh, we have played this game before. 

This time, without moving an inch, I softly growl two words, "Get back". 

I smile to myself when she gets up and moves away from the door, actually going off to eat her dinner and wait her rightful turn.     

I may be the boss at work, but we all know I am not the boss at home. 

However, I will be the alpha bitch!

That is...just as soon as I can keep the other dog from trying to hump me every time I sit on the floor. 

 

Tuesday, September 8, 2015

Life Since Loan

It's been exactly one month since the weekend of my loan.  And while Heron and I have described in great detail what happened during that weekend and directly upon my return, I haven't really discussed how we continued to cope in the days and weeks afterwards. 

I'm not typically one to need, or even desire much aftercare when it comes to most things Heron and I do.  But in this particular situation, it's probably not difficult to imagine that proper aftercare was crucial to my ability to process and accept everything that happened and to do it in the most positive way possible.  Working through all the emotions wasn't going to take just a couple of hours, or even a couple of days.  Aftercare was going to be an on-going process until it wasn't necessary anymore.

The one thing that was quite obvious after I returned on Sunday was that we needed more time together to rest and recuperate.  Heron insisted that I call in to work and take that following day off, and He did as well so He could stay home to look after me.

His process of "reclaiming" me had been yet another intense experience but from that point forward, His focus became helping to build me back up, both physically and mentally. 

The entire next week, I was required to do very little. All household chores and tasks were suspended. Any physical exertion, outside of just normal day to day activities, was reserved solely for intimacy with him. He pampered me in just about every way possible which I thoroughly enjoyed even though I tried not to get too used to it. 

We also spent more time that I can even comprehend just talking that week.  Heron wanted, or rather NEEDED, to know every last detail of my experience.  It's how He processes and being quite honest, it wasn't just me who had a lot to work through.

But there was so much, so many little details that I didn't remember until even days later.  While He knew the major highlights of my time away, the depths of the story unfolded bit by bit as my brain and body relaxed enough to regurgitate it all.  It was odd how I could be doing the most random thing and then out of the blue, some thought or memory would flash in front of me.  He was always right there ready to listen and talk about it.    

At times, the conversations between us were quite emotional.  And I am thankful he exposed that vulnerable side of Himself.  It proved to me that He didn't take His choice, or my experience, lightly and that He really was bearing the full weight of His decision. The honesty in our discussions kept me from retreating to that quiet place inside myself.  It's in that quiet place where my thoughts get confused and lost, and my mind settles into the darkness.  He was determined to keep me from going there.   

But eventually, even I grew pretty tired of thinking and talking about it.  Routine and resuming life as we knew it was what I craved.  Kneeling in front of Heron exactly one week after coming home, I expressed how I needed our structure again and He agreed it was time. 

Heron was very fond of the greeting and serving protocol that I had learned so those were implemented into our normal routine starting that second week. And with the soreness pretty much finally gone from my body, we also resumed position training.  This was something Heron was unhappy with Himself for neglecting. Not only was it a good refresher but a good way to ease my body back into light physical demands.  He kept exercise still limited though.    

We have still continued to talk about it but on a much less emotional level.  Usually it's because He has some kind of question about something I have already told him and is just looking for clarification.   Sometimes we talk about where we go from here.  I know this won't be the end of my challenges, which is a little scary.  

I think we both recognize how it has changed us and how we have grown both as individuals and as a couple.  But overall, I am amazed at the profound positive impact it's made in our relationship and our dynamic.  It's almost as if we have spent this past month in our own special bubble, nurturing the closeness that this experience brought us.














Friday, September 4, 2015

Making Master Uncomfortable

August was quite an interesting month for us. If you have been reading the past several posts, you already know about one of our recent adventures.

But I did say, way back in an earlier post, that we had TWO new experiences planned so that means I still have one to talk about.

This past Sunday, Master and I had a photo shoot.  Not just any photo shoot...a fetish photo shoot!!

And I think for once, instead of my boundaries being pushed, it was Master who was WAY out of His comfort zone.

Originally, I thought He might just be in a few of the pictures but He actually participated in almost all of them. 

I can't even begin to explain what an amazing experience this was, especially for us to do it together.

Gosh...it's making me crazy to wait to see the final results!!  Perhaps, I will even be able to share some of them when we get them back.

Thursday, August 27, 2015

Fly Free (A Post By Heron)

He stared up at the beautiful slave as he sat, one leg folded over the other in the arm chair in their bedroom.  She presented herself, hands clasped behind her head, legs spread slightly apart.  Eyes downcast.  A thousand thoughts raced through his mind as she stood before him.

He had loaned her out to another for the weekend.  The Mistress that he had given her to had pushed her hard.  Tested her.  Challenged her limits. Marked her.

Had he done the right thing? What if he had failed her?  What if he had not prepared her properly for what had happened? What was the look on her face?  Was she afraid that he wouldn’t love her after the things she had done? These thoughts ran through his head as he stopped, just short of touching her.

He knew there was only one way for him to find out.  He wanted to reach out, stroke her cheek, but he didn’t think that would ease the thoughts that were bouncing around in her mind.  He wanted to release her from worry, but he wasn’t sure how.  So he did the only thing he knew how to do….

When he rose and moved towards her she flinched slightly. 

He spoke to her cruelly asking if the marks belonged to the Mistress.  She could only nod.  He touched her tits.

“Did the Mistress whip these?”

“Yes sir”, she barely whispered.

Moving behind her, he touched the bruises on her butt.  “And did she leave these?”

Again she whispered, “Yes sir.”

Circling her again, he ran his fingers along her jaw and turned her head.  “What about the bruises on your neck? Did the Mistress have other men suck on your neck?”

The first tear appeared in the corner of her eye.  Again, she whispered, “Yes sir”.

“Did the Mistress allow men in your mouth?  Did you suck cock?  Did you swallow their come?”

Even as she nodded, the tears streamed down her cheeks.

“I know what you did and how many times.  You danced for other men.  You begged for their cocks.  And then you sucked them.  Didn’t you?”

More tears and a choked “Yes sir.”

He began to fire words at her. “Do you know what the Mistress was doing?  She was passing you around.  You were nothing more than a piece of meat. As a matter of fact, you had to beg like a whore.  Right?

She sobbed slightly, tears streaming freely.  “Yes sir.”

“You. Are. A. Whore.”

He spat the words at her.  He thought that this might be her greatest fear.  The look behind her eyes, but he wouldn't know until he spoke the cruel phrase. 

She tried to hold her position, but as she heard his words she broke and began to sob uncontrollably. 

“No”, he said forcefully, raising his voice for the first time.

“You will not cry.  I will take all of those marks back.  You belong to me and it’s time I reclaim you.”

He held her for a moment, allowing her to regain her composure.  Holding her close.

Placing her back in position, he examined her breasts and asked her what the Mistress had used to whip her tits.  When she replied, he grabbed the implement from his bag.  “I’m going to whip them harder.  These are mine”, he said simply.

He used the leather on her tits as she sobbed.  He stopped using the leather only after the breasts were an angry bright red.

Then he bent her over.  Grabbing a cane, he walked back over to her.  “Your ass is mine.  I will not stop until I have covered all of her marks.”

He struck her over and over.  She sobbed freely, but didn’t move, even as he crisscrossed her ass with welts.  

When he was satisfied that he had covered the Mistresses bruises with marks of his own, he stopped.  He could only stare at her.  She was bent over, sobbing and shaking.

“Move to the bed”, he ordered.

Sobbing softly, she did as required.

He positioned her and traced the barely visible words on her stomach.  “What did this say,” he asked, even though he knew the answer.  For the Mistress had written two words on her midriff.  The words noted her for what she was. She had been required to parade around with it all day for everyone to see. 

She could barely bring herself to say the words, “Cum slut, sir.”

He grabbed a marker and moved next to her.  He wrote over the words to supply his own…Heron’s nyghtbird. She couldn’t help but smile, as he said, “There.  Now I own that as well.”

He traced the bite marks on her thighs.  She winced in pain as he did so.  “Did she bite you?  Did she mark you with her teeth?”

“Yes,” she replied softly.

He lowered his mouth to her bruised thigh.  He kissed the wound softly and she moaned.  He took her hand and placed it on the side of his face.  “This is going to hurt.  I’m taking that bite mark as my own and it may make you scream.  I want you to push me away when the pain is too much.”

He looked at her once and then his teeth covered the bruise.  He heard her cry out, not caring how much it hurt her.  Harder and harder he bit, waiting for her to push him away.  His teeth dug into her and he felt her hand on his face begin to move.

To his surprise, she cupped the back of his head and pulled him down harder on the wound.  He increased the intensity and heard her gasp in pain, but still she held him to her flesh.   Finally, afraid that he would draw blood, he pulled himself away from her and stared at her.

She was panting, but he understood the look in her eyes all too well.

He moved on top of her.  She moaned softly and greedily as he slowly slid himself into her. 

Then he grabbed her head and turned, exposing the marks on her neck. Whispering softly, he said, “Your neck is mine.”

He lowered his mouth to the bruises. She gasped as she felt his lips touch her neck.  First he kissed the marks softly, then biting and finally sucking hard on her neck.  Once he was satisfied that he had covered the bruises with his own, he turned her head the other way and lowered his mouth to her again.

Then he was sucking and biting again in an attempt to erase all traces of the men who had marked her.

Finally satisfied, he turned her head to face him.  “Look at me,” he ordered.

She faced him, barely able to look in his eyes.  

“All of the marks that were made have been covered with mine.  There is nothing that you did, that you weren’t supposed to do.  You were required to obey.  To submit.  My marks will erase any guilt, for there should be none.  My marks take away any self-doubt, for you were required to serve her.  My marks take away any thought that I would not love you. Do you understand?”

She nodded.  Tears began to fill her eyes once again.

“Do not cry my love,” he whispered as he kissed her softly.  He moved his hand underneath the small of her back and pulled her tightly to him. He began to kiss her again and again.  She responded hungrily.

Their bodies began to move together.  A harmonic dance they’ve practiced thousands of times before.  He knew her body well and could tell she was nearing her climax.  “When you orgasm,” he said to her, “You are my cumslut.  You are my whore. You were not marked by anyone but me.  You are mine!”

With his words, her orgasm neared, “Please sir may I come, “she cried out.

“Fly free my nyghtbird,” he whispered softly in her ear.

And she did.





Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Coming Home

Continued from The Long Night and the Girl at the Club: this slave's account of being loaned for the weekend.  

Thoughts consumed my mind as I drove home late that Sunday morning.  His instructions were to be home no later than noon and the last thing I wanted to do was displease Him by starting off with a punishment for being late. 

After being completely naked for two days, it almost seemed odd to be wearing clothes again.  Every part of my body, from my jaws to my ankles, ached and was fatigued.  But all I wanted was to be in my Master's arms, to know that I had made Him proud and that everything between us would be okay. 

As I looked at myself in the rear view mirror, I couldn't help but wonder how I was going to hide the large bruises on either side of my neck, the very obvious remnants from a game of "who could leave the largest hickey".  

I then looked down and very gently touched the swollen and extremely tender bite marks left on each of my thighs by the Mistress. They were already bruising but would be hidden more easily than the marks on my neck. 

The faded phrase "Cum Slut", my given name for the weekend, was hidden underneath my shirt.  I thought back to how the group of people in our condo had stood around watching while the words had been neatly written across my pelvis and how I had been required to wear my humiliating name all day Saturday so that everyone at the pool would know who I was.  I felt a bit protected hiding behind sunglasses but apparently that wasn't disguise enough. People still stared and some even asked, "are you the girl from the club last night?"
         
But overall, Saturday was tame by comparison to Friday night, and for that, I was thankful.  I had been unable to fall asleep after all that had happened so I was running on nothing but fumes and the last reserves of adrenaline.

My gut instinct was that she was planning something else big for that night.  I stayed on pins and needles all day and my stomach churned from the lack of sleep and the thought of what was to come. Not only was I afraid of being the entertainment yet again, but this time I feared being used even harder and longer than the night before and with no rest, I wasn't sure I would be able to handle it. 

As luck would have it, everyone else was exhausted too and ended up relaxing for the evening. 

While I spent the day still technically "in service", following protocol and rules, the mood was much more relaxed.  It was nice just spending some time together with the Mistress more as friends.

In case you ever get the chance, playing naked Twister is actually a whole lot of fun!

I was also the afforded the opportunity to provide some pleasure to the Mistress.  A couple of times actually!

And when joining the Mistress and her boyfriend in bed that night, they requested that I put on a little show just for them.  Normally, I would have felt uncomfortable masturbating in front of someone else, especially in such an up-close and personal kind of way. But I guess after everything else I had already done, it just didn't seem like a big deal at that point and was actually quite enjoyable.

Laying on the bed, I played with my pussy as the Mistress required.  After I had been pleasuring myself for several minutes, the Mistress and her boyfriend began fucking right there beside me.  The thought of them watching me, while I watched them, was incredibly erotic and pushed me right over the edge of an earth shaking orgasm.       

All the images from the weekend, both the pleasurable and the painful, played out in my head over and over again as I drove.  Being the perfectionist that I tend to be, I even thought of the ways I could have been better.  But everything seemed almost surreal.  It was quite a lot to process and it was obviously going to take time before I knew how I really felt about it all. 

The house was quiet when I walked in the door.  Looking for Master, I climbed the stairs, my sore legs reminding me of the exertions of the weekend.  I found Him waiting, sitting in the armchair in our bedroom.  As I approached Him, He stopped me with an icy tone in His voice.

I wasn't expecting to see such darkness in His eyes. 

Saturday, August 22, 2015

The Long Night and the Girl at the Club

Continued from Primed for the Night: this slave's account of being loaned for the weekend...

Even though her eyes were downcast, she could feel the weight of their stares as she walked, guided by the leash, into the club following behind the Mistress.  The club was still part of the clothing optional resort but it seemed everyone else chose to wear clothes, making her keenly aware of her condition.

Just to the right, after walking through the door, was a small little area with a couple of couches and a stripper pole in between.  The Mistress removed the leash and insisted on seeing her dance.  Again, this was something she had never done before and didn't even know how to begin working the pole.

When it became obvious that she had no idea what to do, the Mistress hopped on the platform, wrapped her hand around the pole and showed her a few sexy moves. The two woman briefly danced around the pole together before the Mistress stepped back down, letting the slave take back over. 

The slave couldn't help but notice that while they had been tucked away fairly alone, others were starting filter over to that area and watch.  She wasn't sure how well she was dancing but she was having fun. And the only unfortunate part was that the plug she was wearing had become quite distracting, threatening to pop out every single time she squatted or bent over.

Moving on to the bar and main dance floor area, the slave stood close by the Mistress but was quickly sent away to ask the DJ specifically for stripper music.  She wasn't in danger of having to strip since she was already not wearing clothes but the Mistress had her remain on the dance floor.  Alone on the dance floor, with plenty of people watching from the bar, she began seductively dancing as the Mistress demanded.

The Mistress began sending her to find men sitting alone and had her dance for them. Some of the men appreciated the show, while others did their best to look away.  This made her even more self-conscious and uncomfortable.

Then came an unexpected task for the evening.  As the Mistress said the words, the slave almost couldn't believe what she was hearing. She would not be allowed to go to sleep that night until she had brought two men to orgasm.  

After the slave had danced for several men, the Mistress made her first move to initiate something more.  As she was dancing for one man in particular, the Mistress introduced her as "cum slut".  He was so confused and could not understand the name he had heard.  Both women tried to explain several times what the slave was.

But when the Mistress asked the man if he wanted his dick sucked, he didn't hesitate for a moment.  Moving outside the club near the pool, before the slave could suck his cock, she was expected to beg for it.

What she realized in that moment is that it is one thing to be commanded to do something, even if it is humiliating.  It is quite another to actively participate in one's own humiliation and degradation. 

She knelt down on the concrete, scraping her knees, and took his cock in her mouth.  As it hardened,  the Mistress grabbed the back of her head, forcing her up and down on it in an effort to make her gag.

After only a few minutes, the Mistress stopped her.  It was as if she enjoyed leaving the man with blue balls. The slave was made to find someone else.  Once again, the slave had to beg, and once again another cock was in her mouth.    

With the Mistress affording each man very little time, and emotionally toying with them as much as she was the slave, it wasn't until the third guy that the slave was finally rewarded for her efforts and swallowed her first of two loads.  What the slave didn't know at the time was this man had heard from a friend about "the girl at the club" and had raced down purposely seeking her services.

Making their way inside the second club on the property, the slave and Mistress danced together.  Coincidentally, Girls Just Wanna Have Fun began playing.  It was a song that they had sung karaoke at a different place and time.  Even though she was still leashed, the slave and Mistress laughed and danced in the crowded room like a couple of young girls.

How quickly things took a turn.

They made their way to a pair of couches and yet another stripper pole.  Only this time, instead of the pole being tucked away in the corner, it was the focal point of the room.  She was again made to pole dance, only this time, she tried not to look out and notice the sea of people watching. Thankfully, the plug that had restricted her movements before had been removed and she was able to move about gracefully.

The Mistress caught her eye and made her turn and face the crowd.  The slave was ordered to play with herself.  Burning under the lights and the stares of dozens of men and women, the slave closed her eyes, leaned back against the pole and began touching herself.

It had only been a few moments when the Mistress signaled her over to where she was sitting.  She was told to lay over the Mistress's lap.  With her ass in the air, the slave was paddled in front of the entire club.

Pointing to the men sitting on the adjacent couch, she was made to choose a cock to suck. Walking over to the sofa, she chose the man sitting to the far left and begged to please him. He unzipped his pants and the slave took his cock in her mouth.   

Even as the man was enjoying her pleasure, the Mistress made the slave stop.  Only this time, instead of sending her to another man, the Mistress ordered the slave back over to her.  She ordered the slave to kneel between her legs.  Lowering her head, she pleasured the Mistress knowing all eyes in the room were on them.

_________________________________________________________________

When they all returned to the condo, the slave asked to check in with her Master as it was late and they hadn't spoken since she arrived.  Walking outside where it was quiet, she heard the sound of his voice and all of the the emotions she had suppressed throughout her ordeal threatened to burst forth.  Her voice trembled when he asked her if she was alright.

She tried to assure him that she was okay but the quiver in her voice said otherwise.  She let her Master know the night had been more intense than she had anticipated and she was exhausted from the demands of the past seven hours.

The Mistress came outside and sat down on the step beside her.  Her Master and the Mistress began conversing on speaker phone. And as the Mistress began telling her Master the things she had been doing, she made the slave affirm each statement  The slave could barely answer "Yes, Ma'am", as she wilted with each question.

Before the Mistress ended her conversation, she let the Master know the slave was still not done completing her obligations for the night.  She reminded the slave that she was required to make two men cum before she could go to bed and she wasn't done with her task. She let the slave know that she was going to have to go into the living room and please the two men staying there.  Fatigued and defeated, the slave whimpered "Yes, Ma'am".

She hung up the phone and walked into the living room to please the men waiting there.
________________________________________________________________

Thirty minutes later, she stumbled into the Mistress's bedroom anticipating sleep but the Mistress and her boyfriend had other ideas. The slave doesn't remember how many times she came.  She was used for their pleasure for nearly two more hours.

Nyghtbird-The Girl at the Club (photo taken by the Mistress)

 
      

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Primed for the Night

Continued from Initiation of Cum Slut: this slave's account of being loaned for a weekend...

After returning from dinner, the slave prepared and served drinks.  She had learned very quickly how to properly present in this situation as the Mistress is very particular about protocol.  Kneeling with her arms outstretched and above her head, the Mistress accepted the drink from the slave's hands and then requested the large duffel bag of toys that had been packed and sent with the slave by her Master.  The Mistress seemed quite pleased as she opened the bag and looked over the assortment of goodies.  Settling on the 3 layer leather slapper, she instructed the slave to stand and bend over.   

There were several other men sitting close by, watching. Since she had already been punished in front them earlier, there wasn't much shock in being completely exposed and spanked in front of them now.  The first few swats stung only a little.  Then the Mistress told her to bend all the way over, touching her hands to the ground.  Still wearing the very high heels, this was a bit difficult but she managed by to touch her finger tips to the ground by bending her knees slightly.  Each swat to her ass was harder than the previous.  As the leather landed lower down where the skin was stretched tight across the back of her legs just under her cheeks, it took her breath away. She yelped and crumpled to the ground when one well placed slap caught her directly between the legs.  The tears instantly flowed.

She could barely get back into position when ordered to do so.  The Mistress had found her weakness that quickly.  Pussy spanking is almost unbearable for her.  After a moment, she resumed her position but braced herself for the next set.  With trembling legs, she was instructed to turn around, this time facing the Mistress. Again, the Mistress honed in on her weakness.  "You like having your nipples slapped, don't you?"

She answered truthfully, "No, Ma'am".  

She was instructed to put her arms behind her, arch her back to push her breasts out, and tilt her head back.  The Mistress stood to her right side and used the slapper, hitting each of her nipples over and over again.  Every time her body instinctively pulled forward to protect her breasts, the Mistress scolded her and demanded she pull her head back again to expose her breasts.  The Mistress began taunting her, demanding to hear swear words. 

The slave's mind was reeling at this point.  Not only is she typically forbidden from cursing, but she also knows that she can only process pain when she is quiet and stoic.  Almost unable to form words, she continued to endure the leather as long as she could.

The Mistress kept on until the tears turned to sobs and finally the flood gate of swear words broke free.  She was cursing, pleading, and begging for the Mistress to stop.  And upon hearing the words she wanted to hear, the blows ceased.. As the slave stood still crying and shaking, the Mistress began gently wiping the tears from her face and assuring her that her tears were wanted. 

After asking permission to use the restroom, she was alone for a minute trying to compose herself and thought how, again, this was a first for her. Accepting pain is simply an act of submission, and never before had anyone else, besides her Master, pushed her limits of pain tolerance.

The Mistress stopped her at some point a little while later when she was in the bedroom and acknowledged that she could be tough and demanding.  But even more important, she wanted the slave to know that at any point she needed a break, she need only say so as long as it was communicated between just them and not in front of anyone.  It was a sweet moment because despite how hard her limits were pushed, the slave understood that neither wanted to put their friendship in jeopardy.

It couldn't have been but a few minutes later, while she was kneeling on the patio, that the Mistress instructed her to move towards one of the men, the Mistress's boyfriend, and was ordered to take his cock in her mouth.  After a few minutes the Mistress stopped her and pointed to one of the other men, only this this time, she had to beg for his cock.  Her mind went blank.

It was one thing to beg for her Master's cock, but someone she barely knew, that was a different situation all together.  Lucky for her, he gave in pretty quickly, sparing her further embarrassment.  As she moved around to the third man, he would not be so easily persuaded.  She pleaded, letting the man know how bad she wanted it and was rewarded.  This experience had been, by far, the biggest challenge for her so far that night.

Each cock had only received a few minutes of attention before the Mistress stopped her.  She was still kneeling as the Mistress petted her and brought her face up close to her own, lips parted. 

"Do you want to kiss me?"

"Yes, Ma'am" the slave quickly answered.  Secretly, she had wondered what this moment would be like since the day they had met a couple years ago.

But the Mistress's response caught the slave off guard.  "Do you really expect me to kiss that mouth after it's been on all those cocks?".

The slave flushed.  Nothing like a little added dose of humiliation.

The slave offered to go brush her teeth and upon returning was finally allowed to kiss the Mistress.

The evening was growing late and there had been talk of going to the nightclub on the property. The Mistress changed into a short, tight black party dress.  Kneeling on the floor, the slave slid the heels onto the Mistress's feet.

The chosen outfit for the slave was something the Master had packed and is one of His favorite outfits. It is a merely a bunch of straps and nothing else. Each strap accentuating the slave's body...and her nakedness.    

actual outfit-photo previously taken by Heron
Still wearing her heels, tweezer clamps with bells adorned her nipples, and she was filled with a butt plug.

Before the group left, the Mistress explained the rules for the rest of the night.

-You will only refer to me only as Mistress
-You will only refer to yourself only as cum slut
-You will keep your eyes lowered and not speak unless I tell you otherwise
-You will walk one step behind me at all times.

With that, the pink leash was clasped to the ring at the neck of her outfit, and she was led out the door for what would surely be a night never forgotten...





Monday, August 17, 2015

Inititation of the Cum Slut

Continued from Into the Lion(ess)'s Den: This slave's account of being loaned for the weekend... 

Walking naked back down the steps to the car to retrieve her belongings, she realized just how quickly the tone was set. But it wasn't until dinner that she fully appreciated how intense this experience was going to be.
 
Dinner was planned with some friends of the Mistress staying at the condo just below and everyone was saying their hello's when someone asked the slave's name.  The Mistress quickly answered, "This is cum slut".  The woman seemed a bit amused at first but then, seriously, asked for her real name. The Mistress didn't give an inch.  And even when the slave was questioned directly, she followed the Mistress's lead and answered the same way.
 
Making her way to the patio, the Mistress took a seat, with the slave following right along behind.  Gingerly, she knelt down on the rough concrete beside the chair, trying carefully not to scrape herself while shifting around to get comfortable.  Thankfully, it wasn't long before she was instructed to find a couple wash cloths to protect her knees.

The Mistress herself wasn't eating but did ask the slave if she would like something.  Her stomach had been in knots all day but was also entirely empty.  Suspecting she might need her strength, she swallowed the lump in her throat and squeaked out the words "Yes, Ma'am".

She was to make a plate and bring it to the Mistress, but she had to crawl both to the kitchen and back.  Again, she tried to be careful as to not scrape her knees on the concrete and she was pretty sure people were watching and talking as she crawled away, but she tried to remain focused on her task and being gracious to those that had prepared the meal.

Crawling back, one hand on the floor and the other holding the plate, she handed the plate to Mistress.  "Did you make it how you would like it?". She again answered "Yes, Ma'am.

The Mistress set the plate down on the ground, instructing her to place her hands on either side of the plate and eat.  She had been made to eat and drink on the ground like a dog before, but never in front of anyone had she been humiliated in such a way.  Mostly people carried on conversation as if she wasn't there.  Sometimes people did talk to her but anytime a compliment was offered, like how well she was using her tongue to help bring the food into her mouth, she made sure to show her appreciation by kissing that person's foot.

After her initial arrival that evening, it had not taken long for her to receive her first punishment for unintentionally breaking this rule.  She had been put over the Mistress's knee and given five very hard swats with the sole of Mistress's sandal. Almost instantly, tears had welled in her eyes but she fought them back.  Not only was it extremely painful, but it was the first time she had ever been punished in front of people.  She felt not only did her failure let the Mistress down, but also her Master.
   
Slowly but surely she was able to clean her plate.  Eating a burrito without any hands is a bit tricky but she was extremely was glad to be able to do it with a bit of grace and skill.

After taking her plate back to the kitchen, the Mistress had more plans for her and she quickly became a bit of entertainment.

Crawling to the center of the room, she was instructed to kneel and then lay back, touching her head to the floor and keeping her legs bent up underneath her.  She was completely exposed as this position forced her body into a natural arch.  Several people stood around watching as Mistress told her to touch herself.  At that moment, she wanted to crawl into a hole and hide.  All kinds of thoughts tried to flow through her mind because, again, this was something she had never done before.  But rather than allow her mind to run away with her, she simply closed her eyes, shutting out everything, and went on auto-pilot.

As she rubbed circles around her clit, she heard the Mistress encouraging her to push her fingers to play with her hole and even probe further inside.  The position was incredibly stressful and didn't allow her the same reach as it would if her legs were out from under her.  She could then hear the Mistress talking to one of the men, who she didn't find out until later was also a submissive.  He was being offered the opportunity to touch the cum slut.  The slave didn't hear him answer but knew all too well what was coming.

His fingers probed her opening and the Mistress demanded to know if it was wet.  He answered that it was.   The Mistress then asked if wanted his cock sucked.  The cum slut was made to suck his fingers clean before sitting up and being presented with his cock.  She took it in her mouth, squeezed her eyes closed even harder, and knew that all eyes in the room were on them.

Mistress taunted him asking if he wanted to cum and when he said yes, she told the slave to lay back again.  He stroked himself as he watched her resume playing with her pussy, finally spilling his pleasure on her body.

Allowed to get up and go clean herself off in the bathroom, she happened to catch a glimpse at a clock. It was only 8:00.  She had only just arrived two short hours earlier and was in shock by all that had already happened.  She was afraid to imagine what else the rest of the night would hold...

Thursday, August 13, 2015

Into the Lion(ess)'s Den

Continued from And She Thought She Had the Weekend Free: This slave's account of being loaned for the weekend...

As requested, she sent one last message letting her Master know she had arrived safely.  Saying goodbye to Him in the parking lot of her office earlier that afternoon nearly tore her heart out.  She confided to Him that she felt like a kid being sent away to camp, not how she thought the weekend was going to go by a long shot.   

The two hour ride felt like forever, yet somehow seemed not quite long enough.  No one else had ever dominated her and the fear of that great unknown played out in her head over and over.  

Her instructions to start were simple. 

Wear something easily removed

Heels but no bra or panties

Kneel with eyes downcast and wait for Mistress's foot to be presented.  Kiss it and await further instruction.


She sat inside her car, just outside the condo trying to still her mind. She had already changed into a black strapless sundress before leaving work, but used those last moments in the car to slip into her heels and out of her panties.

As she walked towards the door, the sound of her heels pounded across the wood decking almost as loudly as the sound of her heartbeat thumping in her ears. And once she stood in front of the door and knocked, she wasn't sure if she should be kneeling when the door was opened or wait to be brought inside. 

She erred on the side of caution but when the door swung open she realized quickly she had been mistaken and was already embarrassed.  She quickly stood up and the gentleman that had opened the door told her she could resume her position in the living room area.  The Mistress's voice could be heard coming from the outside patio when she was informed of the slave's presence but the slave continued to kneel and wait.

Seconds clicked by, an eternity, before she heard the stern instruction, "Slut, you come out here to me".  Not knowing whether to stand or crawl, she chose to crawl and was happy that this seemed pleasing.  She also couldn't help but notice how beautiful the Mistress looked with nothing but a sarong covering her from the waist down.

Before coming any closer, she was ordered to stand and remove her dress. As she stood completely bared, except for the heels on her feet, she turned, presenting her entire body to the Mistress and her guest.  She knew she should feel embarrassed, but their obvious pleasure as she bent over to display all of her assets, actually put her at ease.     

The slave then resumed crawling and once she reached the Mistress's chair, she kissed the foot presented.  This act alone is a simple reminder of how far she has come.  There was a time when the thought of touching someone's feet would have probably been some type of limit for her, much less kissing them.

Now that the proper greeting had taken place, the two women stood and hugged as friends typically do and the slave was sent to bring in her bags and get settled in...




Tuesday, August 11, 2015

And She Thought She Had the Weekend Free...

At the very end of my last post, I mentioned that I had some special plans for this past weekend.  I had been invited by a friend within the lifestyle to go clothing optional resort for the weekend, which was exciting as it was something I had never done before.  

Through a crazy turn of events, I was literally hitting PUBLISH on that post Thursday night when I got a text on my phone.  My friend was asking if Heron had given me any particular rules or tasks for the weekend.  She then told me that I was free to give Heron her number if He cared to "conspire" on anything. Now, I knew she was pretty well experienced and quite tough as a Mistress so this was both exciting and scary for me.    

In the span of a few short minutes, the two of them were talking.  Even though I had never "played" or participated in any type of scene with her, we both trust her implicitly.  They discussed ideas she had, ideas He had, limits, etc.  And just like that, my weekend went from that of rest and relaxation to something far different.  Heron agreed to my being her slave for the weekend.

Yes...I was being loaned!

Since I returned home Sunday, I have had a lot to process. The experience was unlike anything I had ever been through.  Some of it was really good, but some of it pushed me FAR past my comfort zone into places I never thought possible.  

Slowly but surely I intend to write about some of it, probably not all. As always, there will be pieces I keep for myself and Heron.  To be completely honest, I debated writing about this at all.  But in all fairness, it is a huge leap in my journey and now part of my growth as a slave.

I realize some of it may be uncomfortable to read about, some of you may even have very strong feelings about it. 

Please keep in mind, this is the dynamic we have and it is consensual.  I trust Heron enough to do with me as He wishes, even if that means He entrusts me to someone else. I knew there was a point in time this may come.  I think the scary realization for me is that I am beginning to believe that there is nothing I won't do to please Him.    

He carries the responsibilities for the choices made and as I re-tell the story, He will be glad to address any questions or comments Himself. He has had a great deal to process as well and I think we are doing a great job of that together.   




Thursday, August 6, 2015

Back to Routines...and New Experiences

Vacation was great and the beach was absolutely beautiful.  Oh...wait...we did see a shark!!  It was like a scene from Jaws...people running out of the water, frantically looking for their children.  The lifeguards paddled out and confirmed it was ONLY about a 6 foot long hammerhead.  Crazy...huh?

But no matter how nice vacation is...it's always nice to get back home to your own home, your own bed, and all your other comforts.

I did manage to get myself in a little bit of trouble on the last day of the trip though.  Guess just  being out of our normal element and routine, I was just feeling very full of myself and got a bit sassy.  It was all meant very playfully and Daddy seemed to really enjoy the fact that I was digging quite a hole for myself.

Later that evening, He sent the kids down to the beach because we needed to pack...or so I thought.  As soon as they left, He rummaged through the kitchen drawer in the condo, pulled out a plastic slotted spatula and pointed to the bedroom. 

Oooo...I might have poked the bear one too many times! 

He bent me over the side of the bed and immediately brought the spatula down on each of my cheeks.  I can't even describe the pain.  I've been spanked plenty of times with a spatula but this time it was so intense that my body immediately tried to bolt back upright.  He tried forcing me back  down with His free hand and after only a few more strikes, the spatula broke. 

As He returned to the kitchen, I buried my face in the bed trying to hold back the tears, unsuccessfully I might add and truly regretting my smart mouth.  He returned this time with a wooden spoon and continued paddling hard and fast. There was no chance to count like usual to focus my mind, I just held my breath and waited for it to end.  Within moments afterwards, the kids returned with impeccable timing as always, but just like that, all was right in our world again.

Life since we got home has been crazy getting ready for the kids to start school.  I really enjoy the summertime without worrying about sports, homework, bedtimes, etc. but just like our D/s relationship, our family functions better with structure and routine.  The youngest started middle school this week and the oldest will be starting college in about 10 days.  So, needless to say, I am very happy to be returning to a normal type schedule.  

On a different note, there are a couple of things happening this month that I am SUPER excited about.  Both should be fun but will push my limits of comfortability a bit, perhaps alot.  I'm not going give away one of them just yet but the other happens this weekend and I have been looking forward to it now for about a month.  A friend, someone I met at the very first munch I ever attended a couple years ago, invited me to spend the weekend at a clothing optional resort!! 

This was an opportunity I just couldn't resist and Daddy wouldn't have wanted me to miss out on it  anyways.  He is always supportive and encouraging me to experience life and have fun, even if it's not something that he isn't interested in doing. 

So...as they say...let the good times roll!!



Wednesday, July 22, 2015

A Little Fun In the Sun

We will be heading out at the end of this week on a much needed vacation.  Of course it will be a family vacation, not necessarily the time alone Heron and I would enjoy but we can dream, right?

So with that...

I will leave you with this lovely, fun image...


Thursday, July 16, 2015

Reflections of Last Night

It isn’t often that I need an emotional purge or “catharsis”.  And it is even rarer occasions that Daddy will use physical pain to bring about such a cleansing.  But last night I guess He saw all the signs and decided that was exactly what was in order.

He didn't even let me choose and bring Him the implement this day.  This day, He chose the bamboo cane himself.  I laid across the bed, bracing for the first strike.  It stung and I flinched, but almost instantly, I could feel my body relaxing and my breathing slowly returning to normal.  Still counting in my head, the number grew closer to 20 and each strike hurt a little more than the one before.  By 25, I was biting down on the pillow and trying hard very hard not to squirm.  Daddy noticed and commented on the faintest of moisture beginning to develop in my eyes. 

This is where oftentimes He would stop but not this day.  This day, He ordered me up and to the walk-in closet.  Waiting for Him, I assumed my pose.  Facing the corner of the wall, I laced my fingers behind my head and moved my feet just shoulder width apart.  I could hear His footsteps across the tile of the bathroom floor as He approached and stood behind me.  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the wooden spoon in His right hand.  He proceeded to paddle me with the spoon, 2 swats to each cheek at a time, finally stopping when the count in my head reached 50.  

As soon as He was finished, I turned around to face Him.  Dropping to my knees as I am expected to do, I filled my mouth with His smooth, hard flesh.  I didn't expect Him to stop me so quickly but He did and pulled me into His arms, wrapping me in His blanket of safety.  The tears finally began to slowly flow.

It very much took me by surprise when He turned me around again, grabbing my hands, and told me  to place them above my head and brace myself against the corner of the wall.  

This is when the hardest of the paddling began.  My flesh was already stinging and sore and I hadn't been expecting the spanking to continue, which made it all harder to handle.  After 10 really hard strikes, the tears flowed just a little freer.  But it wasn't until the next set of...honestly at this point, I don't know how many...that the dam finally broke.  Each strike brought harder sobs as I stood there helpless, while His voice coaxed and encouraged me to let it all go. 

When the spanking stopped, His body engulfed me, and we stood there together in the closet while my tears continued pouring down His chest.

I think for the first time, I realized and really appreciated just how much I needed that release. I have a really bad habit of stuffing things down, burying the emotions and trying to remain stoic.  For what....I don't know, except that I hate to cry.

Of course, you can see by the picture...I had a lasting reminder even into today. 

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Burning Bright



This post has been a long time coming, especially for those who are maybe curious as to the status of Chrysalis and I.  See...this is why I sometimes hate putting things out in the atmosphere, especially when those things seem almost too good to be true.  So many times it comes back to bite me.

Don't get me wrong.  The experience isn't anything I regret and I hope that we will be able to continue our friendship. But I think it's safe to say at this point, that's where it will stay.

It's been two months now and physically, things never progressed since the night I was with her and her husband.  Part of it is my fault because I dug my heels in not long afterwards.  We had set out, or so I thought, to pursue more of a one on one relationship.  Somewhere, the waters got muddied for them, but being with both of them wasn't a pattern I was comfortable with nor intended to continue.  I made my feelings known and then stayed true to myself.   

Her situation wasn't as stable as mine which in hindsight...a huge learning lesson! Getting involved with someone, when the foundation of their main relationship isn't solid, is a recipe for disaster.  And because of their issues, unless he was directly involved, there was just a level of uncomfortability there on his part in sharing her with me.  I have tried hard to believe this to be the reality because the alternative, that for them...this was always about me joining them, is painful to deal with. And even though her expressed desires matched mine, the part of me that finds it hard to trust has won that internal debate. 

It was obvious how hard I had fallen, which is frustrating because I knew better...at least the old me would have known better.  Once I realized just how much I had put myself out there for her, and how vulnerable that made me, the walls began to go up.  I only meant to keep my guard up, to protect myself from getting hurt and to be able continue in the relationship in a "friends with benefits" fashion.

It became more and more obvious to me as time went on, even talking to her regularly, that I just couldn't get things back on the right track.  The emotional ups and downs were wearing on me.  There was no time really afforded for just the two of us to spend together.  Without her being in a position to nurture the "benefits" aspect of our relationship, my physical desire just lost momentum and withered. It's taken a while for both of us to accept and come to terms with things as they are, but I think our conversation yesterday finally confirms that we are both making steps to move on.

Heron has been an absolute rock throughout all of this.  He has listened when I needed to talk or rant....been a voice of reason when need be...held me when I needed a shoulder to cry on...and even provided plenty of discipline and direction when it was time to refocus.

Thank you also to my friends out there who have been so supportive and helped me in so many ways.  You all know who you are:)   

I guess we burned bright for a moment, as true passion often does. But that flame tends to go out as quickly as it was ignited.  It's cliche I know...but so very true.  It was a learning experience for sure and I think I have gained a much better understanding of myself and how to approach this type of situation should it ever present itself in the future.


Thursday, July 9, 2015

Trust Issues...Who Me?

It's hard enough when you have to yourself acknowledge that you see a flaw in your being.  It's even harder when your significant other knows you better than you know yourself sometimes. 

But what's harder than accepting either of those? 

When your kids are the ones who point out something about your character...a side that you try so hard to hide so as to not jade them in their youth.  The side of you that tries to be positive because you desperately don't want live with negativity surrounding your life.  The side of you that wants to believe people are inherently good but knows that there is so much evil in the world. 

My youngest, out of the blue, the other day tells me that I have "trust issues".  Her and her sister had been talking about it she said.

Gut punch...number 1!

Sheesh...my kids are now at the age where they can not only analyze me but are discussing these things about me.  Unfortunately, I can't say that it's not entirely true.  Hell, it took me nearly 20 years to completely trust my own husband.  I trusted Him with my heart...just not my mind or my body.    

So, I ask older daughter about it during the course of a conversation later that evening.  She said she just felt that I had a lot of bad stuff happen in my life...things that had made me cynical and reluctant to trust people. .

Gut punch...number 2!

Now I am cynical and have trust issues.  Exactly the characteristics I see in my parents that I have tried so hard to overcome.

But it's true and that's a hard fact to face. 

When something unknown or uncomfortable is placed in front of me, my mind jumps to all the possible worse case scenarios and outcomes. This has been one of the biggest hurdles for me to overcome in my submission.   

When I do finally open up enough to truly let someone in...god forbid they break my trust.

And if I even begin to sense that I could be hurt or disappointed, my walls go back up and it seems I don't know how to ever let that person back in.

So now I am left to wonder what example I have set for my kids and how it will impact their outlook on life, love, and happiness.  





   

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

I Might Not Squirt...

But apparently I do fart!

If you aren't picking yourself off the floor from hysterical laughter already, keep reading.

So, it seems I have this problem.  A weird new kink, maybe?  Let's call it self humiliation.

It's happened twice now.  The farting that is, not the squirting. 

Let me back up just a bit.  This phenomenon of squirting is something kind of new to me.  I'm not even sure that I truly understand it and whether it's a real thing is a debate for another post.  All I know is that it has happened on occasion, usually after multiple orgasms with the Hitachi.

Daddy is not a fan so it's not something I ever cared to explore.  But once it started happening, I became pretty self-conscious about it, although I had never even come close to it happening during sex...that is until the other night.  I was laying on my back with the lower portion of my body hanging over the side, massaging my clit and He was standing up thrusting into me.

I felt it starting to happen, just the right angle and the pressure was building. Right as my orgasm started, I just knew there was about to be a flood.  Well, that was right up until...I farted!!  Must have put a little too much pressure into it!  LOL 

We looked at each other in shock and then busted out laughing, squealing about how unattractive "THAT" was.   

So the first time you can shake off and chalk up as just an embarrassing moment.  But today...today takes the cake.

I meet Daddy at His office or lunch.  After we eat, He tells me to lock the door and I can't leave until I make myself cum.  So, I shimmy my skirt up, sit down in one of the chairs and prop my feet up one another chair. 

As I lay my head back and close my eyes, massaging myself, He sits at His desk acting only mildly interested in what I am doing because He is "working".  To make the show a little more exciting, I ask Him for something to use...a pen...something like that.  A good little insertion and something to leave Him with, a nice little reminder of my time there. He throws me a marker from across the desk.

I hear sounds outside His door, the fear of being caught both scary and exciting.  I'm getting closer and closer, finally going over the edge, arching my body in the chair in the throws of my self pleasure. I try to keep from screaming...

And then...<insert loud fart noise>  

Seriously, I almost fell out of the chair laughing so damn hard but WTF?!  Really, what is going on?

Am I trying so hard to squirt (or not to squirt) that the pressure is backing up?

Is it another one of those "you are just getting older" problems?

I mean sure, we get a good laugh at my complete and utter embarrassment but I am going to develop a serious complex...not to mention it ruins a perfectly good orgasm!!


Monday, June 22, 2015

Not sure I want "THIS"


Yes...unfortunately, I said those exact words.  I think He was stunned and not all too happy, although he was quick to assure me I was right to say something.   

A far cry from my last few posts, I know.  Everything just seemed to be "clicking".  But emotions can be like shifting sands, changing direction quickly at times. And since I haven't been posting much lately, it's hard to accurately and completely portray the ups and downs.  I just assumed things would right themselves, as they usually do.

It was just an off day.  Ok...maybe an off week. 

Life has been extremely chaotic the last six weeks and Heron (who I will now go back to referring to as Daddy) had been giving me a good bit of leeway, which I consciously tried not to take advantage of.  But maybe I underestimated just how far I had drifted.

Things bothered me that normally don't.  The urge to resist was strong.  There was a sharp edge of truth in my playful banter.  I had even "jokingly" mentioned I needed a day to just be an asshole.  What the hell would possess me to say that?  As you can imagine, He didn't find it very amusing.  

Droopy (or droppy) feelings and hormones were definitely playing a part.  And I thought it best to let it pass, ride out the storm.  I've done it before, mostly in the beginning but not so much lately.  Maybe just a handful of times in the past couple years, have I doubted my desire for submission.

My thoughts tend to go kind of like this...

Yes, it is what He needs and wants.  And it is undoubtedly what works best for us.  But is all of "THIS"...what I need or want? 

I was struggling, the mental tug of war playing havoc in my head.  And then He is hovering over me as I laid on the bed. He kisses me and whispers "I need more from you".

Why does this statement scare me so much.  Perhaps it makes me feel inadequate, like I am not strong enough in my service or submission to Him and that I am somehow failing.  Or maybe, it is the unknown depth of "MORE".  Maybe it's both.

But what exactly does "MORE" encompass?

I know the answer to that question now.  "More" simply means that He needs more of me.  Thankfully, not a reflection of my submission at all and not an expectation of needing more from me. I feel like such a girl over-complicating such a simple statement.

But at the time, the fear of "MORE" is what made me crack.  My resolve to "let it pass" fell by the wayside as I started babbling about struggling and wondering if I wanted all of this anymore. 

He was calm and understanding, reminding me that He made an agreement to end dynamic if and I when the time came. But the look in His eyes broke my heart the moment the words came out.

On one hand, I wished I hadn't said anything.  On the other hand, getting the words out meant they weren't gumming up the works anymore.  The truth is, I didn't want to go back.  Is there really ever any going back anyways? 

I just needed my feelings to be heard and acknowledged, to know that in theory, we have a choice. Because not having a choice means my submission is not freely given.

We tabled the discussion at the time, agreeing that if I was hormonal/emotional, it wasn't the time to talk about it.  And as I suspected, the feelings passed and we talked about it and cleared everything up over the weekend.

He did indicate a shift in some expectations and for the time being, I am only to refer to him as Daddy.  Not sure exactly why, but I trust that He has a reason. 



      

Monday, June 8, 2015

Who Owns You?


I had just arrived home from shopping, picking up a few things for the little one to take one vacation. Heron, the man who owns my mind, body, and soul, had been waiting patiently for me to return.

Once the kids were settled, He locked the upstairs bedroom door and turned to me, telling me not to bother removing my clothes.  I looked sheepishly but left the tank top and skirt that tightly clung to my body.

Ushering me to the side of the bed, he stood behind me, kissing my neck and sliding the straps of the tank top down my arms, pushing it down enough to expose my tits.  He continued kissing along my neck while playing with my nipples, which quickly turned to pinching.

It caught me by surprise when his tenderness changed in a moment.  I found myself face down on the bed with my arms held behind me.  He tied my arms behind my back and then pulled me up pressing my back against his chest.  Kissing my neck again, he slipped the ball gag over my head.  My mind raced wondering what he would do to that would warrant the need for a gag.

He pushed my face back down into the bed, yanked up my skirt and slid my panties down.  With my feet still on the floor, he forced my legs to spread wider and slapped at my exposed pussy several times with a blue plastic ruler. It wasn't long before I felt the warmth of His hardness filling me from behind.  Every couple of strokes of his cock were accompanied by a few smacks on my ass with the very same ruler.

I was in pure bliss until he grabbed a fistful of my hair and brought me up to an upright position.  He continued moving in and out, but now his hand gripped my throat, while his other hand brought the ruler down across my tits  Now I knew why the gag was necessary.  I whimpered and cried out but he was relentless again and again, he pushed me face first in the bed, only to drag me up again to torture my nipples, sometimes using the ruler and sometimes using the thin whippy rubber flogger.    

Eventually, he pushed me all the way up on the bed.  On my back with my lower body hanging just off the side of the bed, arms still fixed behind my body rendering me completely helpless, he continued to thrust into me.  Standing over me, he alternated the flogger over my nipples.  Every time I wanted to cry out but the gag only muffled my sound.

He used the clothes that had now become bundled around my waist to gain better leverage, pulling me onto his cock harder and faster.

Yanking the gag down so that it hung around my neck, he asked, "Who owns you?".

"You do.", I whispered.

My answer is met with a sharp smack across the cheek.  It was just enough to get my attention and I quickly corrected myself.

"You do, Sir."

He acknowledged my answer with a "good girl" but also that my body had given something away.  He knew just how much I enjoyed being "man-handled" in this way.

The look in his eyes was so intense, primal even, as he pulled me up and close to him. With one hand supporting the back of my neck and the other around my throat, our eyes were fixed, connecting on a level that I can't quite put into words.

All I knows is that he owns me completely and nothing in this world could make me more happy.