Poor Amy.

She really did think I'd feel sorry for her, driving topless. After all, it's her first reaction to any woman who is caught in a revealing situation. She's trying to understand the fun side of exhibitionism.

Yesterday, in line at Baskin Robbins, Amy made a nod to me and looked at the woman in line ahead of us.

"Exhibitionist?" she asked.

I looked. California blond, lovely body decorated with a tan and a couple of pretty tattoos, covered only by a miniskirt and a bikini top.

"Probably."

"I wondered," said Amy. "Because I was feeling sorry for her."

"What?" I looked again. The woman didn't seem to be outrageously bare, to me. She knocked over the tip basket, and bent down to pick up the scattered coins.

"No one wears that here," said Amy. "At the beach, sure. But not here. You don't go to the store in just a bikini top. So I was thinking that maybe she rushed out of the house from the pool without thinking, and here she is now in line, and she must be starting to feel embarrassed as she starts to realize what she has on. I figured she's going to be uncomfortable just wearing the bikini top."

"Ah."

I gave it some thought. "I don't think so. I think she's pretty happy with what she has on."

"I'm starting to figure that out," answered Amy.

Amy in a bikini top, just about to head to the pool herself

Not being an exhibitionist, Amy has had trouble understanding the concept. As she puts it, "I see a woman in a short skirt, and I think, 'OMG, does she know how short that skirt is? Poor thing...'"

Um. Not so much. Yes Amy, she knows how short her skirt is. And what's really shocking, the woman likes it that short. She likes being looked at.

And that's the key right there. Amy herself has pointed out that she spent her teenage years practically nude, in the tiniest of bikinis, because she lived on a beach. Day in, day out, she wore as little as possible. But it wasn't to attract attention, she wore that because everyone else did, her clothing fit her surroundings.

Likewise, Amy is entirely comfortable on a topless or nude beach, and prefers to go nude at home. She just can't imagine wanting to be more exposed than anyone else around her. Being looked at doesn't give her any particular thrill.

She figures any woman revealing more of her body than is typical must be doing so inadvertently, and is likely to be embarrassed when she discovers the the error, as Amy herself was when she was once talking on the beach to someone for a period of time, and discovered to her horror that her bikini had slipped, and her nipple had been exposed the whole time.

I think back, trying to remember if I've ever seen a woman exposed in any way, and felt sorry for her.

I'm drawing a blank.

I think back, trying to remember if a woman has ever been exposed, and was embarrassed about it.

I'm doing better there. I can remember a few times when a woman was inadvertently exposed, and may have felt embarrassed.

I try very hard to remember feeling sorry for her.

Hmm. Blank again. It's just not in me. That whole feeling sorry for an exposed woman - not a concept I can wrap my head around.

I remember when I was thirteen riding home from my grandparents in the car, looking out the window on a gusty day. Our car slowed as we approached a bridge over the train tracks in town, a pretty woman in a short floaty skirt pushing a baby carriage just ahead in the sunshine.

I made a wish.

Incredibly, no more than a second later, the wish was granted.

She might have been embarrassed, certainly surprised, but to this day I can't feel sorry for her. She's probably almost 60 now, and maybe done with short skirts, but on a summer day long ago she gave a young boy a memory he has treasured all his life.

I've never been to Vegas.

I want to take Amy there; she knows the place. Catch a show, maybe Celine Dion, or Penn and Teller. Maybe see something with those glorious showgirls, all legs and feathers, with bare breasts firm and high under the hot focused beam of the super troupers.

And Amy, sweet thing, will sit beside me, starting to feel sorry for them. "Those poor girls - do they know we can see their nipples?"

Richard and I were just driving home from an event, and he was talking about what my punishment was going to be for escaping from the house earlier today (long story, having to do with a bet, pirate fantasies, an extremely aggressive Richard, etc).

He threatened to make me take off my blouse and bra for the remainder of the drive home.

"I'd like THAT," he said.

"No you wouldn't," I said.

"What??? Why wouldn't I?"

"You'd feel sorry for me."

I said this seriously, believing it. I would be SO embarrassed if he made me do that. If he had a humane bone in his body, he'd have to feel sorry for me, making me drive the car topless.

I thought he was going to wet his pants, he was laughing so hard.

"Oh that's right. That's the first thought that would cross my mind. 'Look at Amy over there, topless, driving the car. Poooor Amy.' "

"Fine. You're a sadist. Of course YOU wouldn't feel sorry for me."

Tears pouring down his cheeks, Richard said (between guffaws) "NO man would feel sorry for you. NO man would EVER see a woman driving topless and think 'Oh that poor woman.' It's not a thought that would enter their minds."

I don't believe him. I think he is such a bad man, he doesn't understand that a nice man, a good man, might feel sorry for a poor woman forced to drive home topless. But every time I tried to explain that to him, he would start laughing so hard I was afraid he would hurt himself. The only upside to this was that he was too distracted to remember to order me to take off my blouse, and before you know it we were turning into our driveway.

What do you think, gentle reader? Would a nice, normal, non-sadistic man have pity on a woman forced to drive home topless? Or would he, as Richard intimates, be too distracted to feel sorry for her?

As long ago promised, this is the story of our most recent night at the bdsm club.

I considered having Amy wear just her new vintage slip, but decided to go with her red dress, because we wanted to use the slip as part of a complete look, and we didn't have that ready yet.

Amy looked great, as always, and we wandered about with a little more familiarity wih the rooms and what was likely to be going on in them. We didn't see any furries at the club this time, but a fair number of cross dressers, and the requisite Dommes, slaves and others.

One of the first things we noticed was a blonde woman in a suspended cage much like the one below.


fc57, originally uploaded by inferior_whitepetgirl.

The cage in the club had a much narrower base, which forced the occupant to bend over, as there was no room to kneel, exposing her ass. The cage swung on a chain, and ran along a girder, and her owner spun her and ran her back and forth in what seemed to be a disorienting fashion. It looked like a great way to display your property, and I made note of it. Not good for anyone prone to motion sickness, but there could be no pretense of modesty or keeping covered in such a cage, given the proper clothing, or lack thereof.

The big highlight of the evening, as far as entertainment went, would have been Reverend Death and Lady Ladislava, a pyrotechnic act.

They were awesome, as he used a couple of burning torchy type things to play with all over her body, and then did a bit as well with different other people there. I think that is her in the background of this pic of him, with his torchy sticks.



He did some firebreathing, or exhaling anyway, with great bursts of flaming soaring up to the ceiling. Lottsa heat pouring out. He did some fire eating, and a lot of very impressive fire routines

I tried to find a link to a site where you could book him for an event, so I could post it here, but without any luck.



We watched some dancing as well, with a wonderful gay dancer that made me think of the character Dean Stockwell played in "Blue Velvet." He was great to watch. Plus, they had a lot of women in lingerie this week, and a cute bi-sexual/lesbian type couple of young women were dancing in front of us, one of them constantly tugging her errant dress hem back down in a hopeless attempt to keep the entire room from noting that she had gone without panties for the evening.

But the most fun just happened to be playing with Amy as we sat watching. While she's usually eager to dance, not so this week, so we sat out.

She wore the red dress, as I mentioned, and the skirt part is wonderfully split, so there is easy access to a lot of bare leg.



I pulled her legs on to my lap, and just had fun stroking her legs and playing with her, while watching the DJ spin and the others dance.

We haven't gone back since, and there's not much reason to, unless we start using the equipment ourselves. While it's fun to watch stuff, watching gets old too fast, and I want to start doing something. Amy and I aren't looking to do public play at the moment, so I expect we'll check it out from time to time, but we won't be regulars, not yet anyway.

We now have a complete collection of Amy pictures assembled, minus one or two insignificant shots at the most. If you want to check them out, Click Here and follow the links.

As we have realized we can't depend on this location anymore for the easy and convient viewing of our blog by our readers, we will be moving our blog "24.7" to the same URL, so be sure you bookmark 247richardandamy.com when you are there! We've alrady got this site fully archived, for anyone who hasn't caught up on their reading yet!

You can also cut and paste, or type in, these two URLs:

https://247richardandamy.com/
https://247richardandamy.com/pictures/

Hope that helps anybody whose links aren't working!

Richard talks to me a lot when he's fucking me. He'll remind me that I am his, to do with as he wishes. He'll tell me to spread my legs, or move my hands away from my breasts, or to masturbate now. He'll talk to me about what he's going to do to me if I don't do what he says, about how he is wanting to hurt me so I'd better cum quickly or else, about the things that he plans to do to me or make me do in the future (very wicked bad things, I'm afraid). He will call me a slut, his little slut, his cunt, his whore, his poor little good girl caught by a bad man.

Less often, he is completely silent as he fucks me.

Yesterday morning I didn't have to be in the office early, so we took the opportunity to stay in bed later than usual. We drank coffee and read the paper. We talked and snuggled. After a while we began kissing, which quickly became more passionate than I think either of us were expecting. Richard's hands began roaming over my body, then his mouth did the same.

He took his time, focusing on my breasts for an eternity. It was heaven. Then he slowly made his way down my belly, caressing my arms, my chest, my thighs as he went.

That first feeling of a breath, a lip, a tongue on your pussy - is there anything like that? It is such a jolt, such a sweet sharp shock. Indescribable.

He nibbled and nuzzled and sucked on my clitoris, kneading my breasts with his hands, occasionally pinching and tugging my nipples. He would change pressure and tempo unpredictably, sending me to the edge and then settling me back into the pulse of it. How long did it last? It feels like forever, but forever that goes by too quickly.

During the entire time, he never said a word. I moaned and hummed and purred, but he didn't make a sound.

He sat up between my legs and looked down at me. He pushed my legs apart with his knees and leaned until his cock was at the opening to my pussy, barely touching but I felt it all the way through me.

He shoved hard into me with no resistance at all from my wet pussy. He was deep within me instantly. We both groaned and he dropped onto me and drove even further into me, again and again. It felt like he was trying to bury himself in me, he was going so deep.

He grunted from the effort of pushing so hard. He was breathing deeply, raggedly as he fucked me harder and harder. I felt like I was being fucked by an animal, raw and elemental but also scary.

At one point, he reached for my breast and I whimpered and began to pull away. He growled "No" and held me in place with his body as he played hard with my breasts while continuing to hammer into me. That's the only word he said the entire time.

After a while he stopped playing with my breasts and raised up over me for a moment. He stared into my eyes, then grabbed my hair at the base of my neck to re-position me. He held onto my hair as he found a new angle from which to pummel my pussy, leaning over to bite down hard on my exposed neck.

I was pinned in place, by his body on my lower body, one of his hands holding both mine above me and another with a tight grip on my hair. My pussy was throbbing from the fucking, my breasts were aching with a mixture of pleasure and the rough handling. Usually I would be thrashing around in response but I couldn't move. It made the feelings even more intense.

He began to lose his rhythm, to change the angle with each stroke of his cock. I knew he was close to coming. He let go of my arms to grab my ass in his hands and I grabbed his back, his beautiful back and pushed up to meet him with my hips as he came in me, shuddering and gasping, pushing deeper than I knew my pussy went. He held himself deep inside me and then fell on top of me, both of us slippery with sweat and cum.

After a minute he rolled off of me and reached to brush my hair from my face.

"My good girl. I love you.

"Shall I make you some breakfast?"

I figure I totally horrified all of our readers by either the first or second part of the post title.

Several of our newest visitors, all cloaked in anonymity, have requested pussy pics of me. I asked Richard if I could please please post a pussy pic and he finally relented. A shaved pussy, just for you! See below.





It has also been pointed out that there are not enough pictures of Richard on the blog. So I asked him if I could please please post a cock pic and he was generous enough to agree. See below for a picture of Richard and his huge cock.





So there you go. I hope this makes you happy.

Oh, and just to make this as awful as it can be, I have decided that this will be a meme. I will call it the Amy Meme. If you are tagged, you MUST post a pussy pic on your blog.

So, to tag some of the recent meme offenders, I tag Luka, Man With Secrets, Z and sulpicia.

I also tag jdslove, who will now have to start her blog with a pussy pic. *Cheshire grin* (Get it? Cheshire CAT grin?)

Since this is MY meme, I may tag more of you if I feel like it. So watch your comments!

*walks off, feeling domly*

Inspired by an email from a reader, I want to clarify the ways in which Richard dominates me. I think it has been confusing for some people that we say that Richard has complete control over me, but that he does not micro-manage me.

Richard uses a Biblical analogy to describe it. In the Old Testament, Pharaoh puts his slave Joseph in charge of running Egypt. "You shall be in charge of my government and food will be distributed to my people by your orders. Only by the throne will I outrank you" (Genesis 41:40). Joseph was a very smart, very competent guy, albeit a slave. Pharaoh recognized his abilities and used them to his benefit. I'm guessing that he didn't micro-manage or second-guess Joseph, and he also didn't feel less his master because Joseph was contributing so much.

Similarly, Richard recognizes and appreciates my competence, knowledge and experience. There are some things that I know more about than he does, and vice versa. As The Boss, he allows me, nay expects me to contribute to the household without a lot of micro-managing from him.

A concrete example of this: I pay the bills and track our budget. I will make suggestions about eg paying off something earlier or spending discretionary money on something fun. Richard trusts that I know what we can afford or not, and then make the final decision about my suggestions. One thing that we clash on: he doesn't like to spend money on himself and I don't like to spend money on myself. I've gotten more new clothes than I'm happy with since Richard started making decisions, and he's gotten fewer photography supplies than I would like.

Regarding my job, I will ask for his advice on tricky situations and it is always helpful. But he would never think of telling me what to wear to the office, or ordering me to behave in a particular way there. He respects my professionalism and my deeper understanding of the field I work in.

Lately, he has begun to take control in an area he did not before. I am able to do a good amount of my work at home, but it's hard to make myself do it when I have SO MUCH FUN with Richard around. So Richard has started cracking the whip (not literally, thankfully) about me sitting down and working for a set amount of time. I love this because a) I'm getting more work done at home and b) it's sexy when he bosses me around.

On other fronts, Richard has taken a lot of control away from me in running the household. I am used to (after several years of being a single mom, and even before then) doing all the cooking, all the meal-planning, most of the cleaning and all of the organizing (did I mention that I am a big-time list maker?).

Because I am in the midst of a very demanding time in my career, Richard has begun to do most of these things. Giving up control in these areas has been hard, and continues to be hard for me. It's hard because I feel guilty when he does these things AND because I have certain ways I like things done and now they're not getting done that way. They are getting done the Richard way, not the Amy way.

This has possibly been the hardest aspect of my submission. Really. Whip me, beat me, tie me up, but don't put the cups and glasses on the same shelf! Cups go on the shelf above the glasses!

I'm sure the Pharaoh occasionally came in, barging around, making decisions about harvests and taxes. Joseph would have sighed and said "Yes Pharaoh" and let it go. That's what I'm learning to do. It's harder than it sounds.

I don't feel happy about posting after Richard's last post. I was so touched by it and don't want to see it moving down the page on our blog, if that makes any sense. He took a day that was headed straight south for me, and turned it into a beautiful memory.

But the show must go on. A few people have asked us how we manage to be 24/7 AND raise children. The first thing I want to say is that there are several people who read this blog who can answer this in THEIR blogs better than we can. I would ask them to link to their blogs in the comments section, because I think this is a really important topic.

The reason that we aren't the best people to ask is because we only have the children half time. They are with their father the other half of the time. Richard's children are already out of the home.

So it's REALLY EASY to be 24/7 D/s half the time, because we're alone. Well, it's not really easy to be honest, because I have to make the transition from being "Mom the Boss" to "Little Girl" once a week, and back again. I also have trouble with "Boss Lady at Work" to "Little Girl", and people here have given me some excellent advice on how to make that transition (more on this below).

Richard does not seem to have the trouble transitioning that I do. He goes from being "Wonderful StepDad" to "Daddy of Amy" very smoothly, although the first night we are alone he is usually not ready for any kind of BDSM play. Even photography, which he eats, drinks and sleeps, doesn't really kick in until we've had a night or two without the kids.

OK, but what about when the kids ARE at home? I'm going to list what happens below.

1. I still ask permission for the things I always ask permission for, but I do it very discreetly. Richard has let me know that if it is too difficult to get permission, to go ahead with what I want/need to do without it. That seldom happens.

2. I am still respectful of Richard. But I don't think my kids notice this. Honestly, I try to be respectful of everyone, including them, so they probably wouldn't notice it. I DON'T call him "Daddy" or "Sir" in front of them. Well, sometimes I call him those things in a teasing way.

3. I tease Richard a lot, all of the time. The kids notice this, and love it. Sometimes Richard will tease me back. They are still getting used to this, seem to love it, and will jump in to tease me with him sometimes. It's cute. They see how in love we are and how happy I am, and that makes them happy.

4, Sometimes I go too far with teasing or sassiness when the kids are around. I hear about it later, when we are alone in our bedroom after the kids are gone to bed. He keeps track and, the next time we're alone, I get a spanking. Incidentally, the spanking helps me transition back to being predominantly his little girl.

5. Fucking happens very quietly after the kids are asleep. It's amazing how easily Richard can still dominate me and turn me on and make me cum, even when we are being extra quiet. And that helps me stay in a submissive head space with him, even when the kids are around. I think it would be much harder to stay in a D/s mindframe if we didn't...fuck so much. There, I said it. Honestly, I think that's true. It keeps us connected to each other and to our dynamic, our kink.

Making the transition: we're still figuring this out, but a couple of days ago, after I'd had a particularly miserable time of it, Richard blindfolded me and tied me to the bed and played with me for a LONG TIME. He does an evil little routine of combining pain and pleasure so they are confused in my mind, eg masturbating me while hitting me with a riding crop, or alternately spanking me and fucking me with his fingers. Gah. Anyway, because it went on for quite a while, it really got me into a big-time submissive headspace that I am still feeling two days later. And I can tell that it put him into a big-time dominant headspace, because he has been very, very dominant (albeit in a not-very-aggressive way) for the last couple of days. So hopefully we will try that again.