Isn't that a nasty sounding term - "face fucking"? Or maybe it's just me.

Richard told me, before we met, that he didn't really enjoy oral sex (done unto him) very much, although he liked giving oral. He found it too passive, and got bored easily. I imagined him staring at the ceiling, thinking about what color to paint the ceiling, as I knelt between his legs licking and sucking his cock. His attitude was a bit disappointing to me, because I really love to give oral and consider myself rather good at it, too.

But neither of us had experienced face fucking. Me, because I've never been in a D/s relationship before this and Richard, because he'd never been interested.

One day I decided, after we'd been kissing and making out for a while (I think he'd already fucked me at least once), that I would see if I could convince him that oral wasn't such a bad thing.

I began kissing his neck, then down his chest and belly, then nibbled on his hips and along the inside of his thighs. I nudged at his balls and slowly, gently licked and sucked one into my mouth, and then the other.

I looked up at Richard. He didn't seem to be thinking about painting the ceiling.

His cock was already hard and straining as I licked up its underside. I ran my tongue along the head and into the crease, then I slid my lips over the head. I began slowly sliding my mouth down the shaft, with my tongue working the underside.

I looked up again, with his cock in my mouth. I seemed to have his attention.

I would slide down an inch, licking to keep him wet, then increase pressure as I pulled my mouth up to the tip, then slide down a couple of inches, increase pressure and pull up again, then do it again a little further. My hand was on his belly; I could feel him breathing shallowly.

I was feeling a bit smug. Mr. "I'm In Control Around Here" was putty in my hands.

Suddenly, he reached around to the base of my neck, twisted my hair around his hand a couple of times and used it to shove my face onto his cock.

I gagged; Richard is not a small man.

He held me down like that, with his cock deep in my throat. I was choking and struggling, but that didn't seem to faze him.

He tightened his grip, and pulled me off his cock, but only to the tip. He held me there for a moment, then plunged me back onto it. I gagged, and drool began to pool at the base of his cock.

He pulled me up again, then began to face fuck me in earnest, rhythmically pushing me down and yanking me back up, with a firm grip on my hair and the base of my neck. My eyes were watering, but after a minute or so I was accustomed to being deep-throated and no longer gagged at each plunge onto his cock.

After a few minutes, he pulled me up, half an inch from the tip of his cock, and held me there. I could see his cock, but I could no longer touch it or taste it. It had become unbelievably hard and large. My jaw was aching, my eyes were tearing, but oh, I wanted him to face fuck me more. I moaned and tried to reach for his cock with my mouth. He pulled me away, still tantalizingly close, and laughed.

"Not bad. Now I'm going to train you to do it how I want it done."

To be continued...

We're in San Antonio for a couple of days. For business, but I booked us at the closest hotel to the city's annual Fiesta. Fiesta, as far as I can tell, is a giant street party (hence the name), with food booths and lots of beer and margaritas, carnival rides, and great bands. The atmosphere is remarkably like Bourbon Street in New Orleans, where we were just a few weeks ago on business, except for a larger Latino presence and more kids running around.

Richard has talked about enjoying exhibitionist women, and I've talked about being about as far from an exhibitionist as a woman can be. I decided that while we were here, away from home, I would try to be a little more relaxed about how I look in public.

This morning, as we dressed to go out for breakfast, I pulled my collar from the suitcase. Richard didn't know I had brought it. I asked him to put it on me and his face lit up.

I wore it to breakfast. I wore it to the Alamo. I wore it along the Riverwalk. I only took it off when he wanted to take a picture to send to his family.

(Who wants to have THAT discussion? "Richard, your new girlfriend - she's wearing a dog collar." "Yes, Mom, that's right." "It's a nice dog collar, but why would she wear a dog collar, Richard?" "She likes wearing a dog collar, Mom." "Richard, does she eat Alpo, too?" etc)

Richard was teasing me when we were walking along the Riverwalk. We were in front of a big group of people, and he suddenly grabbed me by the waist and pushed me up against the wall of the underpass and kissed me passionately. I could see all of the people staring at us as they passed, so of course I flushed bright red.

He had been saying that he was going to make me take off my panties and give them to him, and a little later he pulled me into an overgrown area and raised his eyebrows. I was so scared he was going to make me take them off! But then he just laughed and pulled me back onto the path.

After we'd been walking for a while, I went into a public bathroom (with permission, of course). When I came out, I slipped my panties into the back pocket of his jeans. He was thrilled.

Later, I wore a VERY lowcut, red wrap dress to dinner, with matching strappy sandals. Richard was appreciative, as were some of the locals when we walked around the Fiesta site after dinner.

So, I'm doing my best. And he knows I'm doing my best, although I know he'll keep having me do more. This is challenging for me, but it's worth it when I see how much he enjoys it. Plus I'm expecting payback tonight (as soon as I get this posted hehe).

And I was forewarned. When I was looking through old emails a few days ago, I found Richard's reply to me, when I asked him what it was he wanted to do when we got together (two weeks before we met for the first time). He said:

I want to fuck you, to torture you, to strip you naked and display you to the world and say you are mine.

Fair warning.

"Hold on tight!
You know she’s a little bit dangerous"

-- Roxette

I sleep with danger.

She sleeps beside me now, breathing softly. A few moments before, she lay against me naked under the duvet, her head on my shoulder, one soft breast pressed against my chest, and one smooth thigh open and over my leg, her dampness pressed against me.

She laughs when I call her "dangerous."

"You're the dangerous one," she tells me. "The Bad Man."

Her innocence is charming. She sees herself as very boring, just another woman, nothing particularly shocking. Good at her job, a good mom who loves gardening and a good girl who has spent her life doing good things.

A good girl in the hands of a bad man.

"You just came across the room at me," she said today, wonderingly. "You didn't say anything, you didn't kiss me, you didn't touch me. You just entered me and started fucking me."

Yes. This morning. She has it partly right, but not completely. Understandable, because she wasn't there for all of it.

I took her to bed last night, both of us feeling distant due to work and family pressures. That afternoon we had walked on the beach, and she had wandered off when I stopped to photograph things.

I noticed.

I caught up to her, and told her to stay close.

After that, she stayed close.

We joked about putting a leash on her. She said I couldn't use the training leads, there was a six foot minimum leash requirement. I said six feet would be long enough, and I intended to keep her on a shorter leash than that. She said people would not allow her to be on a leash. I was unconcerned. Funny, though. Let her wear a leather belt and no one would notice. Loop that same belt about her neck, and suddenly you get everyone's attention.

Especially Amy's.

"Ooohhh, just a little bit dangerous"

She has pushed off the duvet now. She lies on her belly, facing away from me. Naked from the knees up, the smooth curves of her ass just visible in the light from the laptop, a dark cleavage shadows her most personal entry point. I think briefly about fucking her ass.

I took her to bed last night.

We talked, as I held her from behind. After 10 minutes, she began falling asleep.

I began to play with her breasts. She whimpered. Tired, Amy needed to sleep.

We both need sleep. But we need something else more. As long as we have been together, Amy and I usually fuck several times a night. Some nights only once. I have no plan to fuck her tonight, but I intend to own her fully. We will see what happens.

To be honest, in the fog of exhaustion and arousal, I'm not entirely sure what happened. But two days ago, I made Amy masturbate, and she imagined me sitting in the chair in the bedroom making her fuck someone else, as I have threatened to do.

Amy doesn't want me to make her fuck someone else. It scares her.

And yet she knows I want to use her, to make her fuck someone else, to be cunt, to obey every command.

She imagined me ordering her to fuck someone, directing her into different positions.

Amy continued to masturbate.

Then she came.

Hard.

She couldn't confess it until the next day, and even then she couldn't look me in the eye as she told me what her thoughts had been.

So now as I fuck my tired whimpering girl I take the fantasy deeper, and vividly paint a word picture as we fuck. I talk about her being forced to fuck someone else. About being used. About being wild.

I threaten to play with her tits while she fucks someone else, and Amy begs me not to do it. Play with Amy's tits long enough, and, well...she loses control.

She goes wild.

Feral.

Dangerous.

She bites, she claws, she scratches. She loses the ability to form words, let alone sentences.

Amy fucks with her teeth sunk into my shoulder. I have many bruises left by her teeth, long rakes down my back from her nails. I wince often when I fuck her, when I have led her to the place of wildness.

She never remembers.

She looks at the bruises, the bite marks, the long scratches, and asks wide-eyed in the morning "Did I do that?"

Yes.

The last thing she says before slipping into that space, before the teeth and nails find my skin, is a whispered frenzied begging that I keep fucking her, that she'll do anything I want, just keep my cock in her and "please please please keep fucking me."

You turn around
so hot and dry
you're hiding under a halo
your mouth is alive

Her mouth is alive this time. As I fuck her and tell I will force her into a threesome, I let her suck my finger into her mouth, and she fastens to it like a slut on a cock, hungry to suck out the cum. Is it another man's cock, in her mind? Or is it mine, as I make her fuck someone else? It's all the same; when the time comes she'll be lost in the fucking, and I've already told her I'll make her like it, whether she wants to or not.

We fuck for a long time.

At last, she overheats. She whimpers to me that she can't fuck any more, she's too hot. I roll off her, and turn on the fan, and lie back down beside her.

We both breathe hard.

Her body is slick with sweat, and she's claustrophobic and overheated.

I am not done with her.

I kiss my way down between her legs, and lie there, my mouth nudging along her thighs and pussy. I tell her I will do this to her when I want to get her ready for a stranger to fuck.

She gasps a little. I begin to caress her puffy damp lips with my mouth. I'm not sure where she is, in her mind, but as she cools in the blowing air, I hear her cry out and coo, holding her breath and releasing it. Her belly tightens, her thighs flex and her pussy at times rises up to meet my mouth as I tease her.

Eventually, one hand with delicate fingers finds its way down to rest just inside her hip, near her bikini line, if she wasn't plucked bare.

She wants to masturbate.

She needs to cum.

I tell her to masturbate while I straddle her, playing with her breasts, telling her how perfect her tits are.

I know her nipples are sore by now.

I know hurting her nipples can make her cum.

I hurt her nipples.

"she's got what it takes to make ends meet
the eyes of a lover that hit like heat "

I know she is close to cumming. Her whole body is tense, and her hand makes the familiar sound between her legs.

Her body thrums.

I play with her swollen breasts, then I say to her, "God, imagine how sore your tits will be after you've had to satisfy TWO men playing hard with them."

She cums.

I'm over her, and I immediately slip my cock into her.

All nerve endings, she fucks now like the wild woman I love, all claws and nails.

We fuck now, until exhaustion slows me. I pull out of her, and hold her in my arms, too tired to cum. The bed sheets are somewhere on the floor.

I hold her firmly in my arms, locked.

She asks for water.

I tell her "No,"

Her body slumps. I straddle her naked body, open the water, and fill my mouth. Then I kiss her, letting it flow into her. She takes it eagerly. I give her more.

I tell her I can't cum right now, but I will fuck her after I get some rest, and I will cum in her then.

We sleep.

I awake a few hours later, and slide my cock into her from behind. Her pussy is very wet, and I force my way in easily, and fuck her from behind, and from above while she lies on her side, but it's too soon. I'm still too tired to cum.

I let her drift off to sleep again.

I lie awake beside her.

An hour drifts by.

I hold her from behind, my hand cupping her breast. I shift, letting her soft nipple slide between my thumb and forefinger. Her nipple gets firm in moments. The slightest touch arouses her nipples; it always does.

Amy is still asleep.

I lay her on her back, gently, and begin to suck her nipples.

Amy is unresponsive.

Normally, she would be writhing and begging, or trying to get away, as having her nipples played with drives her into extreme arousal, but she is too lost in sleep. I enjoy the opportunity, and alternate sucking her hard nipples. I am thrilled, and grow very hard.

I seize my sleeping girl's hips, and drag her startled into the center of the bed and open her thighs. I have my cock in her as her eyes are opening wide in surprise, and I fuck her.

Her breasts press against my chest. I can feel her wet nipples, still firm and slippery, against my body as my cock sinks home.

I imagine making her fuck someone else, a wicked, delicious pleasure that I have still forbidden myself to explore, and I spill myself in her belly, and come to rest in an exhausted slump as Amy holds me.

"Hold on tight
you know she a little bit dangerous"

She still doesn't think she is dangerous.

I tell her, "Imagine a woman that you can do anything you want to. Explore any desire. Make her do anything. And, imagine that what this woman wants is to do these things, to do whatever she is told, to give up all control to the man who commands her. This woman is dangerous. A man could destroy himself, with a woman like that."

That woman is Amy.

Before we got together she had some concerns - she didn't want to be branded, tattooed, or made to fuck anyone else. She agreed she would do them if commanded, but felt that they could be emotionally damaging to her. I decided then that I had to take the responsibility of not exploring these things that I liked, for her protection. And she laughed when I said I would make her my anal slut, or that someday she would beg to be physically disciplined.

She believes now that I can, and will turn her into an anal slut. That she admits. She also admits that she would enjoy being branded or tattooed because it would please me. And while she doesn't want to fuck anyone else, being forced to do it to please me is hot. And she has already asked for spankings.

So where do I take her now?

I have thought also of making her pregnant. Not in a loving, check to see if she is ovulating, let's get the timing right kind of way, but taking her, forcing her thighs open, and spilling my sperm within her as she begs and whimpers. Making her have my baby.

Can I resist the pleasures I have set aside? I can take Amy down wicked paths to dangerous places. But there is risk. I can't promise safety. All I can promise is adventure. But she is more than willing now to go wherever I lead. I begin to imagine her now with the pleasures I forbidden myself to explore, for fear of damaging her.

I can see her now, branded, tattooed, pregnant with my baby and lying beside me naked in bed with another man's cum still held between her lips.

Oh, and I see her content.

Sleeping peacefully.

"Hold on tight
you know she a little bit dangerous
she's got what it takes to make ends meet
the eyes of a lover that hit like heat
you know she's a little bit dangerous
she's armed and extremely dangerous..."

I am the Bad Man.

I like to do bad things to my good girl. I like to make my good girl do bad things.

My good girl is learning to love everything I do to her; everything I make her do.

She turns over and pulls the duvet under her chin. I slide my hand underneath and play with her nipple. It hardens, and I see her hand slide down to her pussy. She is not awake, but she holds her pussy. Her breathing is slow and deep. In a few moments, I will finish writing, and I will fuck her. She has no idea, but she will be whimpering and begging very, very soon. She will tell me that she will do anything, just "please please please keep fucking me."

Afterwards, I will fall asleep.

With a woman who loves me to force her to do anything I can imagine.

And as she lies innocent and completely obedient, I will know what she does not.

I sleep with danger.

Before Richard and I were together real-time, we spent a lot of time IMing. We would irregularly role play, something that we haven't done since we've been together, probably because real life has been quite wild enough without it. I was looking through our old emails the other day and found a couple of IM transcripts that I saved because they really turned me on. Following is one we did about a naughty schoolgirl. This one, like all that we did, began with one of us starting out off the cuff, and the other following.

Amy: but right now bad schoolgirl that needs disciplined
skirt too short
Richard: yes
have to measure it
Amy: and making out with boys behind the building
Richard: no!
Amy: yes!
Richard: bad girl!
Amy: got caught
Richard: come to my office
Amy: *flounces
Richard: stand there!
Amy: *stands insolently
Richard: straighten up young lady *wields yardstick*
Amy: *straightens but gives him a look
*sassy
hehe
Richard: *looks her sternly in the eye*
Amy: *arches eyebrow
Richard: ooOOOooo like that, is it
put out your hand
Amy: *holds out hand
Richard: *smacks with yard stick
Amy: *eyes water but does not flinch
Richard: ooOOOOoo tough girl?
turn around
Amy: *sneers
*turns around
Richard: *gets the cane*
Amy: !!!
Richard: yes
lift your skirt young lady
Amy: *pauses
*lifts skirt slowly

Richard: *lowers her panties*
Amy: *tries not to whimper
Richard: bend over
Amy: *bends over slowly
Richard: *places a hand just above her ass
Amy: *wiggles
Richard: hold still!
Amy: *tries to hold still
*quivers
Richard: *sound of rattan cutting thorugh air*
*smack!!!*
BUZZ!!! (Richard hit the buzzer on Yahoo Messenger at this point. I jumped.)
Amy: *squeaks
rofl
Richard: just for effect ;)
Amy: lol
Richard: *lines up the next strike, placed the cane against her pale skin...
above the previous welt
and then...
Amy: *whimpers
Richard: BUZZ!!!
Amy: oh!
*squeals
Richard: two pretty red lines
*moves the cane up another inch...
*presses it against her smooth skin*
then
BUZZ!!!
Amy: *jumps
*starts to cry
Richard: three red lines
there'll be no crying, young lady.
There are more tripes for you yet
stripes
(tripe is later, for dinner)
Amy: ew
Richard: LOL
Amy: worse than caning
Richard: ya... ewww
Amy: then spotted dick for desert lol
Richard: *lines up the fourth strike*
Amy: *whimpers
Richard: BUZZ!!!
Amy: *sobs
Richard: *looking very nice, pretty red welts*
you need at least 8 more young lady
Amy: omg no!
no please!
*begging
Richard: unless we can come to an understanding
Amy: *tries to pull away
Richard: no, hold still
or you will earn more
Amy: *whimpers
Richard: such a pretty mouth.......
Amy: *listens
Richard: maybe we can lessen the punishment
Amy: *wary
Richard: or mebbe just continue
*lines up the next strike*
Amy: please don't
pleasepleaseplease
Richard: BUZZ!!!
Amy: *squeals
no more pleasepleaseplease
*crying
Richard: you think we can find another way to teach you good behavior?
Amy: *sniffs
*listens
Richard: kneel down
Amy: *kneels
Richard: facing me
Amy: *still crying softly
*looks up at him
Richard: are you gonna be a good girl now?
Amy: yes *meekly
Richard: open that pretty sassy mouth
and we'll show you what happens to mouthy girls
Amy: *hesitant
Richard: *opens it for her*
Amy: *looks up at him with tear filled eyes
Richard: *holds hair with one hand
*unzips*
Amy: omg
*Amy just fainted
Richard: *holds her head firmly
*looks at fainted girl
Amy: (no, me here)
(from hotness)
Richard: *undoes her blouse so she can breathe better
Amy: thank you
Richard: LOl - yes is very hot
wonderfully wicked
Amy: *comes to, looking up at Richard
what happened?
Richard: *pulls her squealing to her knees by her hair*
Amy: please don't!
I'll be good!
I promise!
Richard: *turns her head up
Amy: *sobs
Richard: open your mouth
*pulls hair*
*hard*
Amy: *opens mouth reluctantly
Richard: *slaps*
Amy: oh!
Richard: *slaps again*
Amy: *opens
Richard: good
*presses against her mouth*
*inserts*
Amy: *chokes
Richard: *pulls hair hard*
*forces her down on it*
*places cane against her sore ass
Amy: !!!
Richard: you know what to do
lil slut
DO IT!
*very stern*
Amy: *tries to please him
*crying
*takes all of him in her mouth
Richard: *tosses away cane*
*holds her head with both hands*
*guides her*
*guides her movements*
*face fucks*
Amy: *following
Richard: *roughly*
*builds.......*
Amy: *tries to stay upright
Richard: *forces her on to it hard!*
*cums*
Amy: *chokes again
Richard: *no mercy*
Amy: *tries to pull away
Richard: *holds her tight
Amy: *swallows
Richard: *empties
pulls away...
releases her head
Amy: *falls back
Richard: get dressed
Amy: *looks up at him
Richard: fix yourself
Amy: *wipes her mouth
*tries to fix her uniform
Richard: *impatient*
Amy: *crying softly
Richard: stop crying
*stern*
Amy: *gulps down a sob
Richard: lets see how you look
Amy: *stands up shakily
Richard: straighten your blouse
fix your hair
Amy: *straightens
*pats at hair
Richard: better
do we have an understanding?
Amy: yes sir *meekly
*eyes down
Richard: good
go now
be back here next Monday after school
Amy: !!!
Richard: If you know what is good for you
Amy: *looks frightened
*pleading
Richard: You are trying my patience
you do not want to make me angry
Amy: no!
Richard: and you haven't thanked me
Amy: !!!
thanked you?
Richard: yes
don't be rude
you deserved 8 more stripes - do you want them now?
Amy: no!
please sir!
I'm sorry!
Richard: I will have none of your insolence
Amy: Thank you for not caning me more
Richard: good
Amy: sir
Richard: now get out - I am done with you
come back monday
Amy: *scurries out quickly
*rubbing her ass
Richard: *closes door*

The last week or so has been really hectic. Busy at work; even having to work the last couple of weekends. Lots of stuff going on socially. And we've had the kids for five days straight. Not much alone time, not much time for romance or D/s play.

Plus Richard has had severely congested ears for several weeks now. Not too painful, but he's having a hard time hearing anything. (And don't get me started on how much fun I'm getting out of, anytime he says he's having trouble hearing, saying "What?" I trick him into repeating himself about half the time. Chortle.)

He finally decided to bite the bullet and take an antihistamine and decongestant, probably just to shut me up with the "what?" joke. So for the last few nights he's been out like a light and he's had trouble waking up in the morning.

Which means...no bedtime fucking, no middle-of-the-night fucking, and severely reduced morning fucking. In fact, two mornings ago we were having GREAT sex, really getting into the groove, Richard had me pinned to the bed with one hand, my ass in the other and was fucking the lights out of me, when the ALARM RANG. Richard grabbed at it, fumbled and poked at several switches, and finally gave up with a sigh, pulled away from me and slammed it quiet.

I was kinda wishing I was the alarm clock. I kinda woulda liked to have been slammed quiet. If you know what I mean.

But I digress. I'm still getting fucked at least daily (notice I didn't say anything about naps *smirk*). But, because we're time constrained and tired and drugged (well, Richard is) and need to be quiet cuz of the midgets, we're not doing a lot of D/s play.

I feel...unfocused. I don't feel as submissive as I usually do, I don't feel as controlled, I don't feel as overwhelmingly focused on Richard. The rest of our life has grown up around us over the last week, and I don't like it.

Remember I said I'm not a masochist?

Well, all day long I've been thinking about how NICE it would be if Richard were to get really stern with me and scold me for something I've done and then give me a long, hard spanking. Long enough and hard enough to make me cry. And then fuck me, while my red, hot ass was still throbbing from the spanking.

Amy is learning to belly dance.

She doesn't want to show me what she has learned until she feels she can do it properly, which is cool with me, but last night she wanted to show me a couple of her moves.

She had on a thin gray undershirt, her jingling coin skirt, and something else - I don't know what. I found it hard to look below her upper body, with her braless 38D breasts at eye level, nipples already erect and and a sexy smile on her face.

This pic I posted previously will give you a idea of how those nipples get your attention.

She shows me some hips moves, which were dead sexy, then she goes into a shoulder shake, that just makes her breasts dance wildly.

God.

I'm gonna get her some tassels.

God.

I've talked about how a few short months ago I was pure vanilla. I didn't know I was sexually submissive, and I didn't know that people lived the fantasies that I only...well, fantasized about.

I started exploring D/s erotica online last May, and through that managed to stumble onto an online kink community. For the first few weeks I lurked on the boards, reading posts and learning. I still remember the first post I made; I was so nervous that my hands shook as I typed.

One of the first threads I read was a woman responding to a flamer - you know, the kind who writes eg "How could you let a guy hit you? You must be really fucked up if that turns you on!" She was so open, so thoughtful in her response. She talked about how long it took her to acknowledge her sexuality, not just to others but to herself. About how freeing it was to finally do so. She wrote about the complexities and contradictions in a D/s relationship, and the depth of feeling and connection possible within one. I almost cried reading it. It felt so good to know that other people had the same feelings and urges that I did. Maybe I was a freak, but at least I wasn't the *only* freak out there.

As I became more comfortable posting, I would regularly end up in the same threads with this woman. We developed an ongoing joke - she would tease and torment me, I would cyber-spank her, she would plot to turn me bisexual. Silly.

Now I talk to her every day, and we email several times a day. We live across the country from each other, and we've known each other for less than a year, but she is my dearest friend. Megan almost singlehandedly navigated me through my first experiences a) as a member of an online community, b) dealing with the attentions of predatory domly types, and c) coming to terms with my sexual submissiveness.

Here's the thing. She is the most emotionally intelligent women I know. She has the sharpest, quickest wit. She is tooth achingly sweet to everyone, and ferociously protective of those she loves. She is scary gorgeous - tall, blond, blue eyed, cheekbones that could cut you. She could walk into a room, and walk out five minutes later with anyone in the room, man or woman.

She's a slave.

I remember one of the first times we were talking on the phone. We were in the midst of a serious conversation when she suddenly interrupted me "Oh! I have to go! Master says it's time for bed."

My jaw dropped. This was not fantasy. This was not theoretical. Megan was living it. She was (is) a slave. She has a tattoo on her thigh that says "slave" in kanji.

I chewed on that for a few days. At this point, I still saw myself as a vanilla person who had kinky fantasies. But my beloved friend, my most trusted confidante, was a...slave. What did that mean?

I decided that it meant a couple of things. First, I finally got it that you can be kinky AND be normal. If that makes sense. Megan is reaaaally kinky. She's also reaaaaally smart and reaaaaally competent and reaaaaally emotionally healthy. That suggested to me that *I* could be kinky, and also smart and competent and emotionally healthy.

Second, it meant that I was in a relationship (albeit a friendly relationship, not a romantic one) with a kinky person, and I was getting a lot out of it. More than in my non-kinky relationships (friendly or romantic). This gave me hope that I could have other relationships with other kinky people that were satisfying and fulfilling.

Megan gave me the courage, both by her example and by her daily support and encouragement, to take a chance with Richard. To be open enough to get to know him, then to meet him, then to move in with him. She didn't give me blind support and encouragement - she asked me hard questions and challenged me to think through each of my decisions. But that, of course, made her support infinitely more valuable to me.

I could not be here now, so much happier and in love than I ever imagined I could be, without her love and guidance.

My precious friend, my dearest sister slave.

I awoke in the early morning, and found Amy sleeping in roughly the position below, except nude of course.

Amy ready for fucking.
With my erection already pressed against her naked ass, it was a simple matter to swing up and straddle her extended leg, press the other up and out of the way to open access to her pussy, and then force my way into her as she woke up.

With lovely easy access to her breasts as well, I found I could hold onto her thigh for hard thrusting, or lean forward and seize a nipple between forefinger and thumb, and gripping it tightly, rest my weight on that hand.

The net effect of gripping her nipple is to basically pin her to the bed by her nipple. A little pressure on her shoulder, pulling her as if trying to roll her onto her back, stretches her nipple in the most wonderful way, and gets an instant reaction from her.

It took a little persistent thrusting to open up her pussy fully for a good hard fucking, since she wasn't fully awake when I started, but once we were under way this turned out to be a wonderful position to fuck her in. Plus, I easily rolled her over and fucked her the exact same way as she lay on her other side.

We will do this again.

Amy told me, the other night while we were cuddling in bed, that she doesn't like it when I call her cunt when I am fucking her.

WTF?

She was hoping I'd call her something more romantic, like "Sweetie," or "Angel," or some such name.

Now, keep in mind I don't call her "a cunt." No, she is "Cunt," an entirely different creature altogether.

She has since claimed to be teasing me, but what am I to guess from this? I know the humiliation I make her feel sometimes through word and action is very hot, for both of us. So, does she really not like being Cunt, or is this a ploy to make me think she really doesn't like it, and therefore I'll use it more, heightening the humiliation factor.

Amy doesn't play mental games.

She does tease, though.

I just think she doesn't like being Cunt.

Amy is easily the smartest person I know. I have shifted to a new technique when debating topics with her. Namely, don't pick any position, because Amy will outflank and outmaneuver any logical position with my old nemesis, accurate facts. I hate accurate facts. And she seems to know them all.

Amy reminds me of a Vulcan. All brains and thinky thinky until pon farr hits, and then she's an excited mass of sexual passion. Seriously, Amy is very intelligent and articulate, but during sex, when she has been properly aroused, she speaks, but the sounds don't form proper words. All she can say that you understand is "no," and "please."

To me, she has become thoroughly female. Completely, 100% cunt.

And what other word could I use? Vagina? Pussy?

No.

I remember running across the word "queynte," in my old Chaucer reading days. A form of "cunt," and also meaning knowledge, or cunning if you like. The word "cunt" seems to have been formed from the feminine syllable "co," pronounced "coo." Long recognized as a feminine syllabel, you see it today even in phrases like "hootchie-coo," for example.

While nothing is certain, it is put forward by some that the word evolved through numerous usages, possibly through the Latin "cunae," which you will recognize as related to "cuneform," and is seen in the word " cunnus," Latin for "vagina."

The final syllable is often linked to Scandanavian usages of the word meaning "wife," or "woman" or related meaning such as "kone," "kut," "kuton," "kunta," and "kutte."

The Dutch are given credit, ultimately, for the addition of the "t" to the word, and their influence seemed to have been what resulted in the final shape of the word. To run the risk of over-simplification, the "cu" seems to have evolved from the Proto-Indo-European language, the "n" from the Latin, and the "t" from the Dutch, to find a final amalgamation in the word "cunt,"

It's first recorded in England as a street name in various redlight districts of cities such as London and Oxford, which had streets named "Gropecuntlane."

Cunt.

A fine word, with a distinguished pedigree, but currently in disfavor, and out of polite usage.

I, however, am not so polite.

When I am fucking her...

Amy is Cunt.



more info on the word "cunt" here

I write this in bed tonight, in the dark. Amy lies beside me nude, the duvet pulled down to her waist, her soft breasts bare in the pale light and her nipples semi erect. I stroke her breasts very, very lightly, feeling their softness, the firmness of her nipples. Even in her sleep just the slightest touch makes them harden.

I can't touch them like this; not when she is awake.

The slightest touching of her breasts, let alone her nipples, sends her into immediate arousal. Touch them for more than a few seconds, and she begins to writhe and grind and whimper, so much that in can be hard to even keep contact with her breasts as she lies beside me in the bed, squirming and heating up quickly with desire.

I've never seen anything like it.

I swear, her breasts have a direct connection to her clitoris. She has a phenomenal sex drive as it is, and with such sensitive and responsive breasts it's hard not to keep sending her into a state of eager and compliant arousal.

Amy compelled to pull her t-shirt up and show her breasts
Amy has learned that she has two kinds of orgasms. The first is an all encompassing clitoral orgasm that leaves her exhausted and satisfied. The second type is less focused on clitoral stimulation, and milder, without relieving the urge for the first type. This second type can come repeatedly, sometimes without even touching her. There have been instances when she has been very aroused, and something I say can send her into this second type of orgasm.

With extended breast play, Amy can go through multiple orgasms. Oral sex especially sends her into one long orgasmic plateau. When aroused, she has no idea how many she has had, nor how long she has been having sex. I have no idea either, as I don't know when she is having them. I am aware of when she suddenly holds her breath while I am playing with her clitoris, but I don't know if that exactly corresponds with her minor orgasms.

Her big orgasms are always solo; she doesn't have multiples of those. When I first started playing with her, I couldn't identify those either. Amy would just go very still, and hold her breath, not making a sound. She focused entirely on the sensations washing over her, but to an outside observer, it looked like nothing was happening at all.

Lately, during her big orgasms, she has been moaning ever so slightly, and rocking a little from side to side. Still not much demonstration of the powerful sensations she describes rushing over her, but more evident than before, if just barely.

I have teased her about becoming my anal slut. She hates that, and resists the idea very strongly. The other night, I held her in my arms, and ever so slowly, began to separate her ass cheeks, and slowly stimulated her ass hole. Her hips betrayed her arousal, and when I whispered in her ear about fucking her ass, she came twice, the little orgasms that don't relieve desire.

She is not happy with the implications of that.

Amy hadn't cum for a day or two, and really wanted to cum. The previous night, at some small hour of the morning, I awoke when Amy bit my neck in her sleep. She wanted to cum, she told me. I told her the next night I wanted to put her in chains and explore her body with my mouth, and that I would have her cum then.

We went to bed early that following night, skipping dinner, and neglecting the rest of "The Last Tango in Paris." Amy was anxious; a woman used to coming daily, and now orgasm starved for - well I don't remember exactly how long. Long enough, apparently. I reminded her about the chains, which she had thought was just a sleep induced thought of mine from the night before, and offered to go get her chains.

I said "No."

I didn't want her doing anything.

I got the chains myself.

I made her lie patiently on the bed, awaiting my return. Then, as I fitted the chains to her body, I explained to her that this was for my pleasure, and she wasn't to do anything, just to respond in whatever way her body led her. I carefully made certain that she knew I wanted to explore her body for my own interests, and that I wasn't interested in giving her an orgasm, but that I would play with her as long as I felt like it, and when I had had my fill of exploring her, she would then masturbate for me.

After chaining her, I flipped her over on her belly, and began exploring her back and arms with my mouth and hands. After a while, I moved down to her lower back, and then to her ass. With the chains on her ankles, I couldn't open her ass cheeks as easily as I would have liked, as her legs could only spread so wide, but I was still able to use my tongue and fingers to test her little asshole in various ways. Her hips began to move rather rhythmically at times.

Gentle whimpers.

A pleasant background music to my own focused interest.

Some time later, I rolled her onto her back, and explored her belly and thighs with my mouth and hands. I left aside her breasts, as I knew she would likely writhe and thrash if I explored them, and I wanted a quieter, more contemplative ambience.

I eventually found my way to her pussy, and played with it until I grew tired of exploring, my lips fully satiated with the taste of Amy's delicious body, and moved alongside her to twist her nipples as she masturbated herself to a mandated orgasm.

She came fast.

I held her for a while after she came, then later I fucked her, long after her own orgasm had subsided, for the delicious pleasure of just using her body. The chains make entering her a bit awkward, but the different angle of penetration is always welcome, and I came in her with a sharp intensity.

I've been meaning for a while to talk about how Richard and I got together. I mentioned in an earlier post that we met online, and that we IMed for several months before we finally met in person. Originally we interacted in a very vanilla way, and I thought he was fantastic. He was so smart and funny and articulate.

But stepping back, the first time I saw his avatar (the small picture that is attached to a post), I felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach. His face - he was magnetic. I had a gut level, primal response to him. I wanted him.

We flirted for a month, showing up in the same threads on a BDSM board, teasing each other, dancing around a more personal connection. Tease, retreat, watch, tease, retreat.

After a month, after being teased to a frenzy, I emailed him. Still very light-hearted, flirtatious. I didn't expect a response; I felt like a freshman girl making eyes at the quarterback. He was so gorgeous, so self-assured, so charming. Why would he be interested in me?

He replied almost instantly. I answered; he replied quickly again. I told myself that he was a very friendly person, that he was probably emailing many women at the same time, in the same way. I had butterflies in my stomach every time I checked my email.

It heated up quickly. I read through our old emails yesterday, in preparation for writing this, and was surprised at how often we wrote over the first two weeks and how soon we were talking about serious things.

We began talking on the phone after a week or so, then began IMing a couple of weeks later. At least a couple of hours a day, talking to each other and, as I said before, most of that talk pretty vanilla. Any "kink" talk was more...theoretical. A bit about what each of us liked, but more of Richard answering my questions, since I'd never had a D/s relationship.

Then, one day, I was IMing with a friend and Richard wanted my attention. He sent me an email commanding me to perform a specific task. At first I thought he was joking, and I sent him a cyber-kiss back and said I was IMing with my friend. He sent a stern reply, basically asking if I knew what happened to girls who didn't do what they were told.

Wow. I can't explain it. It was like the ground shifted under me. We had teased a little before, about chasing and spanking, etc. (He'd sign his emails "catch you soon" - it always gave me a little thrill.) This was different. He'd changed the rules. He was commanding me. He was treating me like a submissive, something noone had ever done before.

I said goodbye to my friend and got right on my task. He was pleased but still stern, because of my delay. I didn't sleep much that night. I was on fire.

After that, we would still have long discussions and joke and tease, but always there was the underlying current of his dominance and my submission. He began demanding more of me, first pictures and then more of me on cam. It would be hard to overstate how shy about my body I was then and how unlike me it was to agree to this.

He was patient, but persistent. A little more every day, and I never hesitated when he commanded me. It never occurred to me. Occasionally I would get insecure or sad after a session - what is called "sub drop" - but we would talk through it and within a day I was back on track. Richard wrote about this happening recently in an earlier post. Both of us were surprised by how unhesitating I was in my obedience. I had always thought that, if I were ever lucky enough to be in a D/s relationship, I would be one of those bratty, sassy subs, always challenging my dom. No way. I'm too invested in being a good girl, and Richard is way too scary to disobey. Occasionally I fantasize about it, but even when I make noises about disagreeing I back down really fast.

During one email exchange at this time, I had asked Richard some questions about the logistics of us getting together. He replied that he needed to complete some things over the next few weeks and then he was coming to get me, to claim me. It gave me goosebumps. I replied jokingly that I had thought we were going to have a nice vanilla discussion about logistics. His reply: "We are done with vanilla".

And we were. More than I knew. As I've said before, I had really thought of myself as a bedroom submissive, and expected to be my usual dominant, assertive self outside the bedroom. And I am in all other relationships, but not with Richard. I submit to Richard, always and in all ways. He is unquestionably my Master.

And yet. I have never had a partner who was this concerned about my feelings and needs, so willing to share in the work as well as the pleasure of a relationship, so much a partner. I can talk to him for hours, about everything from politics to child rearing to science to literature. We laugh about everything and tease each other unmercifully. Last night he put me in chains and then explored my body with his mouth and hands for two hours. I came again and again. A few nights before he gave me a full body massage. Slavery - I can live with this.

I was going to talk about our first meeting here, but this post is already getting long, so I'll save that for a later post.

I had fucked Amy like a stranger in her chains the previous evening, and didn't let her cum, despite her obvious need.

In the night, I removed her chains, and when morning came, began to play with her again. I fucked her from behind for what seemed like a gloriously long time, then flipped her onto her back so I could make her masturbate. I like her to cum while masturbating, then I enter her still pulsing body to finally empty myself into her as well. Amy is a delicious fuck while she is in the afterglow of orgasm.

This time, I forced her to masturbate, and knew that her frustration from the night before would make her need intense.

I whispered in her ear as she masturbated, and played with her nipple roughly, and ordered her to play with herself.

I could feel a difference today - she was very aroused, but some sort of frustration was holding her back, keeping her from cumming. She kept coming sooooo close, and then losing it, and then finding it again and sending herself close once again.

I love watching Amy masturbate, I love feeling her movements, but I wanted to fuck her now. I was tired of her masturbating, and I wanted in her. I took her hand, and pushed it harshly to one side, and moved between her legs. Amy cried out in frustration, but I entered her, and began fucking her. She whimpered, and I could feel how much she wanted to cum, but instead I fucked her, came in her, and then I was finished with her.

She can cum later.

Maybe tomorrow.

The chains took me by surprise.

Three chains, very simple, very light, medium length.

Got them at PetSmart.

One links her wrist cuffs to each other, the other links her ankles together, like a horse hobble, and the third loops through her collar, and has a padlock dangling at the end between her breasts.

I kept her in them for the evening, that first time, and took her to bed in them. I could easily control her body as I played with her, by holding the chains, and found her easy to arouse, and found myself actually indifferent to her pleasure or pain. A very different feeling; I've always thought of pleasure and pain as ways to control her, but in the chains, I found little desire to ether give her pleasure, or pain.

Hard to explain, but her pleasure and pain didn't matter - she was just "there" to use, to fuck.

I talked to her about it a little bit, then I fucked her like she was a stranger, some beautiful woman bound and placed in my bed that I would never see again, a woman I had no relationship with, a woman who didn't matter. Just a pretty body to use for pleasure.

Disconcerting. No reason, then to hurt her, and none to pleasure her.

I fucked her at a different angle, the ankle chains keeping her thighs closer together than usual, and she responded to the new sensation of this penetration with obvious pleasure. Of course it didn't matter.

I had told her I would not let her cum. I fucked her, and took her chained and aroused body in my arms. She wanted to cum, but I wouldn't let her.

We talked after, about the emotional disconnect from each other, and how it made her seem more owned and helpless, and yet more distant. Closer, and yet further away.

I think it is that the chains amplify how I am feeling, rather than simply bringing in a whole new set of feelings.

I am sure I will want to hurt her while she is chained. We will see.

Two evenings in a row I've worn chains. We are both surprised by the strength of our response to them. I hope Richard will talk about his feelings separately.

Night before last (which I wrote about in the post below), I asked Richard to take off my chains after we had been in bed a couple of hours. I had a bad headache and they were making it hard to sleep.

Last night I was surprised when Richard told me to get my chains. He loves variety and we seldom do the same thing two days running - shibari, corset training, spanking, face fucking, etc. - all of those happen once or twice and then something new catches his fancy in the short term.

The mood was very different from the night before. We watched a movie (Honeymoon in Vegas), then sat on the couch and talked for a couple of hours. Well, Richard sat. I lay with my feet in his lap. We were talking desultorily, joking, Richard was rubbing my feet on and off. In other words, not a highly charged, D/s erotic mood.

Around 11 pm he said it was time for bed and we headed upstairs. He didn't take off my chains. He didn't fuck me. He just pulled me to him and we fell asleep.

I woke up around 5:30 feeling very...different. Richard was still asleep; usually he wakes up before me. I laid there, quietly watching him. I needed to go to the bathroom, but I never thought of asking him and I didn't think of getting up and going without permission. I just waited.

After about 15 minutes, he woke up. He didn't smile at me, like he usually does. Maybe because I wasn't smiling, like I usually am. He just stared at me with his beautiful eyes. After a minute or so, he pulled me up against his chest. I still needed to pee, but I didn't say anything. About 10 minutes passed.

"You need to go pee. Go."

So I went. He watched me walk slowly across the bedroom, careful not to trip on my leg chains. On the way, I tried to think about how I felt. I always feel submissive to Richard, always. This was different. I felt...passive is the best word I can think of. I wasn't going to disturb him to ask permission; I waited until it occurred to him. I think I would have waited a long time.

When I came back to bed, Richard rolled me onto my back and pulled my hands above my head by the chain attached to my wrist restraints. He played with my breasts for a while, rolling my nipples between his fingers and pulling. I started making little noises in my throat, and my hips started moving of their own accord. He slid his hand between my legs and began playing with my clit.

Sometimes when I become aroused, the intensity of it causes me to pull away. I tried to roll away from Richard, but he pressed down with the palm of his hand, never taking his fingers from my clit. I tried to pull my hands down to cover myself, but he wrapped the chain around his fist and pinned my wrists more securely above my head.

My attempts to free myself were clearly hopeless. There was nothing I could do to make him stop. He could do anything he wanted to me. I stopped fighting and quieted down. When he told me to masturbate, I did without a sound. I came, and he fucked me, without any talking, without words. It was so intense, so different, almost like being fucked by a stranger.

Writing this, I finally understand what was so different for me. Yes, I am submissive to Richard. I'm submissive all day, every day, in the bedroom and out. I have never disobeyed him. But I always have that option. I always have the option to say no, to leave, to quit. When I am in chains, that is no longer true. Richard can do whatever he wants, and I can't stop him. I am truly at his mercy.

Hot.

I came in from work this evening, showered and changed into a sarong. Richard likes me wearing just a sarong, tied around my hips, when I'm at home. He put on my collar.

Later I tied on my new jingle skirt (I call it) that I use for belly dance class. I looove how it sounds when I move.

Then Richard brought out some new toys that he got yesterday. (He wouldn't tell me what they were and I have been squirming about it for 24 hours straight.)

First he put on my leather wrist restraints, and locked a chain between them. He gave me enough slack to work on my laptop. (Thank you, Sir.)

He put on new ankle restraints, and locked a slightly longer chain between them.

He locked a short chain onto the front of my collar.

He sat back to look at me, reached out and grabbed my collar chain, pulled me to him with a growl and kissed me roughly.

"It's a short leash. I like you on a short leash."

He handed me the packaging from the locks and told me to throw it away in the kitchen. The leg chain didn't stop me from taking normal steps, but it was easy to trip on, so I had to walk very slowly and carefully. He watched me the whole way there and back.

When I came back, I curled up against him. I was a tiny bit scared he was going to make me sit at his feet. I was already feeling a bit overwhelmed by my chains, and when I'm feeling nervous or insecure I like to be as close to him as possible. So I nuzzled up against his chest quietly and hoped. But I think he was too happy looking at me and hearing me jingle to make me sit on the floor, so I'm still up on the couch.

Occasionally he reaches over and pulls me to him by my leash, then kisses me or fondles my breasts. I'm so happy to be next to him.

The only thing marring my happiness is the nipple clamps sitting in a heap on the coffee table. I'm hoping he's forgotten about them...

My girl is a tease.

She's very playful all the time, but tends to curtail that playfulness sexually. In bed anyways.

Not anymore.

I woke up groggy the other morning, with a velvet hand stroking my nether parts to firm attention. The sudden shift of blood to a region well away from my brain did nothing to decrease my foggy state of mind. Suddenly, Amy lifted herself up and over me, carefully lowering herself with a big playful smile onto my cock.

Well.

She leans forward, with her wonderful 38D breasts right in my face, and begins some very slow movements with her hips. Very slow, very teasing.

I make a few thrusts up into her, and with the third thrust she rises up into the air, preventing my cock from actually driving into her. She begins the slow movements again, which I savor, until I give her a few deep upward thrusts, which she teasingly interrupts again by rising up out of reach, matching my motions with a playful movement that keeps my cock poised just inside her pussy, and no deeper.

Plus she pulls her breasts out of reach and away from my mouth from time to time.

Devilishly wicked, and very wonderfully sensual.

Every so often I simply grab her hips, and hold her in place while I fuck her from below for a few moments, before I allow her to continue teasing me again.

She's sexy.

And smiling the whole time, except when she gets a little overcome by the sensations herself.

Eventually, the teasing session evolves into her getting flipped onto her back on the bed, and seriously fucked hard.

As she should be.

I have a really bad cold. I am coughing and wheezing and miserable. Last night Richard took pity on me and told me that we weren't going to play, even though the kids were gone for the first time in five days. He took me to bed early, pulled me into his arms, and said "Go to sleep, baby."

He said I was asleep in seconds.

This morning I woke, as I often do, to him playing with my breasts. He pinched my nipples and I moaned. His hand slipped between my closed legs.

"Open."

"Wider."

As he played with my clit, my hips began to move and when he slipped a finger inside me, I shuddered.

"I know you're not feeling good. But I want to play with you. You don't have to do anything. Fall back asleep if you'd like."

Then he began to explore my body with his hands and his mouth, slowly.

It felt heavenly and I did start to drift off a few times. But then he began to play with my ass, and I woke up. He slid his thumb into my ass, and then he slid a couple of fingers into my pussy.

Oooooh, it felt nice. I moved my hips a tiny bit, but he didn't respond. He just kept his hand in place, thumb in my ass, fingers in my pussy, fingers resting against my clit.

After a while, I dozed off a bit, but then I woke to him fucking me with his fingers. This time when I moaned, he pulled his fingers out, flipped me over and slid his cock into me.

He fucked me for a while, while telling me that he was sorry that I was sick, that he knew I was too tired to want to fuck, but that he wanted to, so too bad. Then he pulled out and told me to masturbate. I whimpered and said I was too tired. I wouldn't be able to cum.

"OK. If you don't want to masturbate, that's fine. I'll hurt you instead. You know hurting you turns me on too."

"Nonononono! I'll masturbate! I will!"

"Too late. Now I'm excited about hurting you."

So he did. I had thought I was safe from being hurt for a while. He doesn't want to make any bruises right now, because he wants to take pictures over the next few days and he says bruises take too long to Photoshop out.

He reached over to my right nipple and twisted it, hard. I squeaked and tried to pull away. He held me down and kept twisting.

"Oh God, I love hurting you. Look how hard I am already."

He pulled my hand down to his cock, which was rock hard. Then he reached for my left nipple and twisted it. Hard. He had me pinned down, so I was bucking but couldn't get away.

"I'm going to fuck you while I'm hurting you."

He rolled on top of me and slipped in easily. If I'm not a masochist, why does it make me so wet when he hurts me? Gah.

As he was fucking me, he was staring into my eyes. His eyes are really scary when he gets like this.

"I don't want to give you any bruises right now. So I think I'll take your air away. That doesn't leave bruises."

He pinched my nose shut, and clamped down with his mouth on mine. I was pleading and twisting and struggling to get away, which only turned him on more. It felt like hours before he let go. Then he did it again. Then he paused.

"Do you think maybe you could masturbate now?"

"Yes. Please. Please let me masturbate."

I masturbated for him. But unfortunately, once he gets into "hurty" mode, he doesn't come out of it easily. So while I masturbated, he continued to pinch and pull my nipples and then he bit them! That hurts so bad! I begged him not to bite and he laughed.

"Fine, I'll choke you instead. But don't you dare stop masturbating or I'll hurt you worse."

He put his hands around my neck and slowly increased the pressure. If he felt me slow down, he'd remind me that he would hurt me much worse if I stopped.

I came with his hands around my neck. What have I become?

When Richard and I were IMing, in the early days of our relationship, I (being the polite and submissive girl that I am) would ask permission to leave when I needed to do something, like answer the phone or take something out of the oven or...use the facilities. The latter was especially important, since we would sometimes IM for hours on end.

I didn't usually say *why* I needed to leave, and after a couple of weeks, one time when I asked permission he said "Do you need to go pee?"

"Um, yes."

"Well, then say 'May I please go pee?'"

Long pause. Inner wrestling.

Head down, "May I please go pee?"

"Yes, you may."

After that, I had to ask to go pee, rather than simply ask permission to leave the computer.

I got used to it.

As you know, if I get used to something, Richard ramps it up.

One day he said "Go pee now."

"What?!"

"Go pee. You haven't gone for a while. You can go pee, can't you?"

Unfortunately, my tiny bladder would not allow me to lie. I could. I did. But on the way, Richard says I shot him a look of pure hatred.

I had hoped that Richard would no longer want me to ask permission to pee when we were together. A vain hope.

(He also used to make me strip for him on cam, and began having me masturbate on cam. That was hellishly difficult for me. I do not miss that, now that we are together 24/7. He still makes me masturbate for him, but it's not as difficult when he is holding me.)

After a week or so of asking permission to pee, I actually began to like it. It reminded me, each time I asked, of our commitment, of my promise of total submission and obedience. It reminded me that Richard controlled everything; he could decide when and what I eat, what I drink, what I wear, everything. (Mostly he isn't interested in micro-managing that way, but sometimes...)

It's tricky to ask permission to pee when other people are around. I've become quite creative about how to ask. "Do you mind if I excuse myself for a minute?" "Anyone using the bathroom right now? Mind if I do?" And the ever useful head nod toward the bathroom, coupled with a quizzical look.

Mostly Richard magnanimously allows me to go pee when I ask. Occasionally he makes me wait. That is really frustrating and really hot. One time it was because he wanted to fuck me first (we were in bed). Another time it was because he knew I was irritated with him and was trying to escape discussing it by leaving the room. So he said no. I insisted that I really needed to go RIGHT NOW. He said no. I pouted at him. He said no. Then he gently returned to our discussion, not allowing me to go to the bathroom until our disagreement was resolved.

Recently he has followed me into the bathroom and watched me while I peed. Ack. It takes me a few seconds before I can, because I'm shy about him watching. Which he loves, naturally.

He's been observing when I usually need to pee, and now he'll tell me to instead of wait for me to ask. It makes me feel very controlled, which is way hot to me. That's not surprising, given that being owned and controlled is what turns me on sexually.

Maybe more surprisingly, it also makes me feel precious to him, and cherished, and valued. Certainly no other man has found me interesting enough to observe me so closely, to want to know me this well. And this, I think, may be the big attraction of D/s to many women: to have a lover who is this focused and interested in her.

I feel blessed. I feel like the luckiest woman in the world. Even if I do have to ask permission to go pee.

One last look, for the moment, at the word slave, with definitions found through Google.

"Noun

1. slave - a person who is owned by someone

2. slave - someone entirely dominated by some influence or person;

"A person who is held in bondage to another; one who is wholly subject to the will of another; one who is held as a chattel; one who has no freedom of action, but whose person and services are wholly under the control of another.

"One who has lost the power of resistance; one who surrenders himself to any power whatever; as, a slave to passion, to lust, to strong drink, to ambition."

As you have seen before in a post by Amy, she has some real problems with the word "slave", and isn't comfortable with the very harsh reality of slavery, as contrasted with the kind of relationship that we have.

I'll leave it to you to decide your own feelings about the word "slave." There is enough flexibility in the various definitions for me.

I see a state of mind.

Namely, that Amy has lost the power of resistance, has surrendered herself, and is entirely dominated and owned.

Works for me.


“A slave has no choice” African Proverb

Richard loves exhibitionists. He's not an exhibitionist himself, but he loves seeing a woman flaunt her sexuality in public. (I'm not sure I've said that right, but I'm quite sure he'll tell me if I didn't. lol)

I am not an exhibitionist. The work I do is male dominated, and it has never been in my best interests to appear overtly sexual, or even particularly attractive. I am happier when the focus is on my brain; I have a big brain and I'm comfortable with that.

I guess I like it when someone thinks I'm attractive. I've more often found wolf whistles and appreciative comments flattering than annoying, as long as the whistler/commenter is not too aggressive.

I really like it that Richard finds me attractive. What's different from my earlier relationships (hell, what's NOT different from my earlier relationships?) is that he wants *other* people to notice that I'm attractive. No "light under a bushel" with Richard.

I got a stern lecture after our first beach trip together - no more baggy linen shirts, no more capri pants, no more one-piece suits. He wanted to see more of me, and he wanted others to see more of me. Gulp.

So a couple of times recently I've dressed in short shorts and with cleavage showing before we've gone out. I felt awkward, but I stopped noticing after a few minutes.

When we bought my new corset (sorry, still no pics) I wore it out to lunch and boy, did people stare. It actually stopped a conversation at one point, when I was walking by a table. That made me feel a little shy, but also proud of myself for wearing it. And Richard was pleased, which always makes me happy.

Today, omigod today Richard made me go in a short skirt and panty-less to the grocery store with him. The wind was blowing in the parking lot. I was holding my skirt down with my hand, and Richard grabbed my hand and started swinging it. Bastard. I let go of the skirt in a hurry.

Every time I wanted something on a low shelf (ketchup, sugar) I asked Richard to get it and he'd always stop for a second and stare at me and I'd pray silently that he wouldn't tell me to do it. Then he'd grin evilly and reach down for it.

At one point, in the wine section I think, he slipped his hand up my leg a bit and I was terrified he was going to start playing with my bare ass in the store. In the past he's simply reached over, pulled me close to him, tugged up my shirt and started rubbing my belly. I can barely stand still for that, and usually freeze with my head down until he is done, but this would have been too much. Luckily he stopped at my leg.

(Here's another cute trick of Richard's: he'll tell me to do something, and when I whine a little he'll say "just be glad I don't make you do X" which is like ten times worse. So then I'm supposed to be grateful. This time he said "just be glad I don't make you take off your bra too". !!!!!!!! I'm a 38D! It's way noticeable if I'm braless! What an evil man.)

So, I'm on exhibit regularly. And of course I'm on exhibit here, and at flickr.com where Richard posts my pictures. I'm getting used to it, but I don't think I'll ever be an exhibitionist. In other words, I don't think I'll ever *enjoy* being on exhibit. But I think maybe that works for Richard too. Instead of an exhibitionist, he gets a shy girl who he can easily tease and embarrass. Best I can do, I'm afraid...

I mentioned in the March 2006 post "Road Trip" about Amy's boy cut lace panties, and I've finally got a pic here for you to see what I was talking about.

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe the boy cut lace.

And maybe just her bare pussy.

We'll see.

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

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

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

Good questions.

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

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

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

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

Such is not the case.

I enjoy forcing Amy.

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

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

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

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

But I still hurt her.

I like to hurt her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A year ago, I didn't know about BDSM.

I had fantasies about being controlled, of being owned. But lots of women have those fantasies. I knew that people have fantasies that they would not really want to happen in real life - like rape fantasies, for example - so I assumed that this was the case with my fantasies. In fact, saying I "assumed" this suggests that I gave it more thought than I actually did. I just masturbated to my fantasies and let it go at that.

It boggles my mind that I am now in a 24/7 D/s relationship. And it's getting more D/s-ish every day. And sexier.

When Richard and I started talking together online 6 months ago, I had been exploring BDSM online for a couple of months, reading erotica, visiting online communities, checking out blogs, etc. I thought I'd figured things out. I was a bedroom submissive, which meant that I found it erotic to be dominated sexually. Outside the bedroom, I was and expected to continue to be very dominant and outspoken in my work and personal life.

This pattern of submissive in the bedroom and dominant outside seems to be quite common. I've seen many online posts and discussions about successful career women who submit only to their romantic partner and only sexually.

I was just thrilled to know that there were men who wanted to dominate me! I had thought, and apparently this is quite a common misconception among submissive women, that everybody *really* wants to be submissive. I assumed I would have to "take turns", if I were lucky enough to find a partner who was open-minded and willing to experiment in the bedroom. You cannot imagine the thrill I felt when I realized that I could be in a relationship where I got to be the lucky one (ie the submissive) every time!

Anyway. Neither Richard nor I were interested in a Master/slave relationship, each of us for different reasons. In his experience, M/s relationships tended to devolve into the M being a "service top" to the s. In other words, the alleged Master was actually serving the sexual fantasies of the alleged slave. An example of this would be a slave being sassy or disobedient, to manipulate Master into "punishing" her/him in some delicious way. A little of that, as light-hearted roleplay, might be fun. But it's kind of the antithesis of slavery for the slave to control the relationship dynamic so blatantly, yes?

To me, as I said before, it seemed unrealistic for me to be anything more than a bedroom submissive. Furthermore, I had a lot of trouble with the word "slave". Slavery really happened, and continues to happen in some parts of the world. It's not sexy for the real slave. I would NOT want to be a real slave.

In contrast, how I feel about Richard is very real. I love him, I adore him, I worship him, and I feel extremely submissive to him. I want him and only him to control me. I want him and only him to dominate me. I've never felt this way about someone before. I don't want to put a fake label on these very real feelings.

But what kind of name can I put to our relationship? What am I? I am now comfortable saying Richard owns me. But am I a slave?

The word is becoming more and more comfortable to me, as my submission becomes deeper and deeper and as his control over me grows. I wonder... where we'll end up, who I will be, as the journey continues.

The weekend went very well indeed. I'm starting to take more control away from Amy now, letting our 24.7 D/s find its own borders (if there are any) as we begin to grow as a couple and into our public life.

I find myself handling her body quite casually all the time now. It's a rare moment when we are together and she is out of reach, and I've lately taken to leading her around by grabbing the front of her jeans, hooking a finger in, and pulling her to get her moving.

We've had a few minor moment of irritation with each other, but we seem to sort them out quickly, and they always seem to stem from our different ways of communicating. We are learning to understand what each other means when we talk about stuff, and it's usually when we make inferences about what the other meant that we run into conflict. We are remarkably similar in that we both are direct and straightforward in our speech, and neither of us are used to that in a partner, so occasionally try to guess real meanings behind things, when the real meanings are right up front.

But we are learning.

Great weekend sexually. Dancing Saturday night; and that seemed to set the tone for a long, lingering Sunday morning in bed.

Sometime in the erotic haze of that morning we took this picture. Some time in between fucking, but I really don't know between which occasions. Again, a long, lingering erotic morning.

God, those nipples.