24.7

We bought an RV and we’ve been going away weekends to frolic. I was in bed and noticed how gorgeous Richard looked while making our coffee. So I put my new iPhone 4 to good use!

PS I don’t think I’m much of a slave - he won’t ever let me make the coffee. When I suggest (respectfully) that I should do it, he says “You aren’t allowed” or “You don’t have permission” just to bug me.

I make Amy ask for permission when she wants to use the bathroom.  She used to glare at me, and mutter and scowl, but she did it.  Now it’s ingrained, pretty much a reflex.

So now I’ve started making her raise her hand, when she wants permission to go to the bathroom.  No hand raised, she doesn’t get acknowledged.

I like it.  It’s like she’s back in grade school.

Amy says we already covered this topic in some other post, but I don’t remember so…..double post!

Amy and I were talking about her sexual talents.  Well, I was talking about them.  I started by commenting that she was a freak in bed.

Oh my.

You’d think I’d slandered the Queen.  She insisted that she was “NOT A FREAK IN BED.”  I pointed out the matter of biting, etc., and the conversation switched around a little and she pouted as she maintained that some of her best sexual talents are never used.

“You just face fuck me,” she grumbled.   “I never get to give a nuanced blowjob.”

True enough.  I’m not one to sit back passively while she does stuff - I like to do stuff.  To her.

I get bored even thinking about the traditional blowjob.  What am I gonna do, lay back and think about what color to paint the roof?  I much prefer to have her choking and gagging while I drive myself deeper into her throat.

Still, there are indeed other pleasures in life beyond the obvious, and I’m thinking about giving this nuanced blowjob a try.  Amy’s always been pretty confident of her oral skills, and I might learn to like it her way, who knows?   But it’s unlikely to be number one on the menu.

“And another thing,” said Amy.  “I’m really good at seduction, I can really seduce a guy when I want to.  But I don’t get to with you.  You’re always fucking me.”

Now, there are things I’m willing to explore, like forced masturbation, or orgasm denial for her, but fucking her less often just so she can seduce me?

I draw the line there.

We had dinner a couple of weeks ago with another Daddy/little girl couple.  Which was cool, because I’d never met another before.  In fact, I’ve spoken/written with other Daddies and little girls only briefly.  We were at a restaurant and it was really cute to watch them together.  They are still finding their way around a D/s relationship, so I think it was nice for them to see how another Daddy/little girl couple behaves in public.  (Answer: discreetly, but not vanilla.  Let me know if you need more detail. : ))

The Daddy got kind of crabby with his girl, and she responded in a very submissive and concerned way that I recognized right away.  Most of the vanilla women I know, including my previous self and this girl’s previous self, would snap back if her husband snapped at her in public.  I have often seen one unpleasant exchange like this turn into an evening of irritation and hurt feelings on both sides.  It’s amazing how much more quickly bad moods and feelings dissipate if you don’t feel a need to defend yourself.

After he’d snapped at her, and she’d been conciliatory, I could see him processing it.  I know that they both have some concerns about this kind of relationship – he is especially worried about hurting her if he needs to discipline her, and she is worried about letting go of control.  She also has one of the sharpest tongues of anyone I know, so I was impressed with her response, and I got the sense that it made him very happy.  Richard recently mentioned how proud and happy I made him a couple of times early in our relationship and how that made him feel more confident as my Dom/Daddy.  (For those of you who have been reading our blog for a while, one of those times was when I was told to put Megan’s giant buttplug in my mouth ewwwwwwwww.)

I think their kind of Daddy/little girl is pretty much just like our kind of Daddy/little girl.  A lot of Daddy/little girls are into age play, which we are not.  I’ve practiced my Richard “if it’s consensual it’s okay” attitude with that, because my initial response was to be…hmm, I’m not sure what it was.  I guess part of it, as the mother of a young girl, was wanting to be sure that Daddy/little girl not about pedophilia or incest.  My impression is that it is not; the D/lg’s that I have spoken to are very happy being part of an adult and unrelated couple.  Richard would say here (I think; I guess he’ll let us know if I’m wrong) that it wouldn’t even matter if they were, as long as it was still two consenting adults doing it.  But is it pedophilia and incest if it’s only pretend?  *ponders*

The other thing that I had a leetle trouble with at first is being invited to pajama parties or asked what “age” I am (as in: am I 6 years old, or 10 years old, or…?), or talking about crayon colors.  But again, that’s cool if that is what they are into.  It’s just not what I’m into.

So what is Daddy/little girl if it’s not age play?  I can only speak for us.  Obviously.  If you read our very early posts (from when we were at blogspot *spit curse*, but it’s also archived on this site), we were trying out Master/slave.  But we both felt a little uncomfortable with the terms.  It made me feel very disposable and replaceable (why do I keep hearing Richard in my ear today?  “Ooo disposable – hot!”).  It also felt very one-sided, and our relationship didn’t feel at all one-sided to me.  I had never felt so nurtured and cherished and valued.

Why do we need names for what we are to each other?  What about simply Husband and Wife?  Or say that we are in a 24/7 D/s lifestyle relationship, which is probably the most accurate description of what we are?

I dunno.  Richard has always called me “little girl” and “baby girl”, both of which I LOVE.  After a few months together he told me I was to call him “Daddy”.  At first it freaked me out, but now I can’t imagine calling him anything else.  Here’s the weirdest thing of all.  My little sister met and married a wonderful man at the same time that I met and married Richard, and we found out later that we both started calling our husbands “Daddy” at exactly the same time.  And that’s whom we were having dinner with.

I couldn’t find a collar for Amy that I liked, so I decided we didn’t need to put a lot of energy into it, since the collar was only a symbol.

But Amy found one that worked perfectly for us, and the other day I mentioned to her that I was very aware of when she had it on, and that I liked putting it on her, etc.

“Oh,” she responded.  “I thought you said you didn’t care about those things.”

I considered a moment, and then said “I guess I was wrong.”

“Oh” said Amy, tragically NOT considering for a moment.  “Which time?”

I woke up early, and Amy snuggled in close under the duvet; the morning sharp and cold.  She slipped both hands around my cock, murmured something, and drifted back to sleep.

We lay like this for a half hour, maybe an hour.  I enjoyed the feeling of my erection between her cool palms, and did not sleep.

I planned to cum in her.  No hurry, plenty of time.

I flipped her off me onto her side, facing away from me.  I placed one hand between her shoulder blades, and pushed, and with the other reached between her thighs to seize her pussy, and pulled her hips toward me.  A moment’s effort had her bent double, vulnerable.  I opened her ass checks, and reached in to divide her pussy lips, just enough to wedge my cock’s head at her opening.

Then I started to thrust.

I won’t call it pain, but I felt discomfort.  The guys will know what I’m talking about, that delicious twinge as  you batter at her unprepared cunt, your cock buckling ever so slightly in the middle with each thrust, a quick radiation of pain.  It passes as you keep thrusting between her still awakening labia, and you force your way into her pussy with brute strength.

She isn’t very moist, not yet.  Barely even protesting, as she still struggles with sleep.  But a steady rhythmn will loosen her, and moisten her thoroughly.

I usualy love playing with her body, making her squirm, fucking her.

But I’m not interested in fucking Amy.  Not this time.

I just want to cum.

I hold her hips and fuck her, thrusting.  I know her tits are bouncing with each thrust, and I ignore them briefly, a luxurious decadence to neglect such fine tits.

I ignore them because Amy isn’t going to cum.  I don’t want her too.  If I don’t play with her nipples, she doesn’t cum.

For a moment, I do amuse myself by grabbing one breast, feeling the delicious softness in my hand, with the ever present hardness of her nipple against my palm.  I become distracted by the thought of leaving her frustrated, and slip my hand down to tease her clit, but I abandon that idea after a few thrusts.

Truly, this was a distraction.  I didn’t give a fuck if she was frustrated or not.  I wanted to cum in her.

I fucked her swiftly, forcing her shoulders away from me.  At one point I covered her mouth, or so Amy told me after.

I ignored her perfect tits, shivering neglected as I held her hips again, driving deep.

A perfect sensation, a sharp cascade at the very point of me,  and I shuddered cum into her.

I don’t think I’ve ever posted the uncropped version of this picture here, so I figured I’d add it.

Long-time readers of our blog know that my friend Megan, who had a huge impact on my blossoming as a sexual submissive, now lives far away from us with her wonderful, evil Master.  I have missed her like crazy and have been counting the minutes until we saw her this summer. We just left after spending four nights with her and her Master.  I was in seventh heaven and, as usual when I am with Megan, learned a lot about being submissive and being myself.

She and Robert (her Master) pulled up to where we were staying and I ran over to their car.  Robert got out first and I said “hi!” and hopped up and down waiting for Megan to get out.  Then I realized she was waiting for Robert to let her out of the car, like Richard makes me do.  So I gave Robert a big hug and waited for him to go around and open the door for Megan.

The first thing I saw was a tanned foot in a 3-inch beaded sandal, with red toenails and toe rings.  Followed by a long, shapely, tanned leg.  And then another.  Then a tall, gorgeous blond with a tiny little dress unfolded from the car.  Perfectly styled hair, knockout make-up, and of course the trademark killer body.  Wow!

Megan has always been jaw-droppingly gorgeous.   But she had entered a new realm of beautiful.  And the most beautiful thing was her face, because she was glowing.  Just radiating love, happiness, self-confidence.

I don’t think I stopped hugging her for an hour.

We stayed up talking for hours.  I can’t tell you how thrilled I am about her Master (I keep starting to say “new Master” but of course he’s not; they’ve been together for over a year now.)  I told Megan that of course I would always care about whoever her partner was, but Robert is someone I would want to be friends with even if they weren’t together.  He is really smart and has a terrific sense of humor – my two top priorities for friends and partners.  He also makes it really clear how much he loves my Megan.  He is very attentive and affectionate; he does something that I think must be very hard to do, which is to treat her with complete respect but also demand her utter obedience.

At one point I mentioned that I had bought Richard a whip for Father’s Day (what was I thinking?) and I asked if he knew how to use a whip.  He said “No, I don’t.  But that makes it hotter, doesn’t it?”  !!!!  That could have come out of Richard’s mouth!  I was almost too startled by the similarity to laugh.

I can’t remember whether it was that night or the next morning that Megan told us that she hadn’t had an orgasm in a year.  I stared at her with my mouth open, I actually thought she was teasing me at first (she does that a LOT).  When I wrote about my three day orgasm denial, which I thought might kill me, I had almost written about a conversation Megan and I had the year before.  We had agreed that orgasm denial was completely NotHot, and we couldn’t imagine any woman ever agreeing to it.  It was a hard limit for her.

So.  What the heck?  How could my sweet little cumslut friend not have cum for an entire year, and be sitting across from me looking like the cat that ate the canary?  How could she be glowing with happiness and satisfaction after a year of being deprived of orgasms?

Richard’s response was worrying.  He thought this was just awesome.  He was grinning from ear to ear as we listened to her story.  At first, Robert enjoyed making her cum, over and over and over.  Which was sexy and exhausting.  Then he started telling her she could only cum if she did before he did.  Which she managed to do, until he started messing with her, stopping just as she was on the edge and then orgasming quickly himself before she could regroup.  I remember her telling me about this at the time, and how hot and desperate and submissive it made her feel.  THEN he told her that it was making her too focused on her own pleasure and not enough on his, so…no more orgasms for her.  Period.

Megan said “I love it!  This is really perfect for me.  I am getting fucked deliciously all the time, and I’m not worrying about whether or not I will cum, because I won’t.”  She added with a grin “But maybe he’s just brainwashed me into thinking this.”  She was tucked under his arm as she told the story and at this point she looked up at him and he looked at her and there was so much love between them, I’m tearing up right now thinking about it.

Of course we talked about this on and off over the next few days, in between talking about her job and our kids and her and Robert’s future plans and more kinky stuff, like the strip clubs they go to (more on this in a later post; we visited one with them and it was a blast) and their evolving polyamorous relationship, and Second Life and on-line role-play, and on being D/s while dealing with migraines, and on and on (more on all of these later too).

When I talked to Richard about Megan’s orgasm-free existence, he said “The right tools for the right job.”  He said it made perfect sense to him that this was exactly the right thing for Megan and he pointed out that you could see it by the results.  Robert says he’s not a details-oriented Dom, he’s a results-oriented Dom.  Another way that he is like Richard.  (I told Megan they are even boring in the same way; they both like Civil War history. *yawn* I got a swat for saying that and Megan got bitten hard when she told Robert I said that.  I said “You didn’t tell him I said it, did you??” And she said, “Yes, and it was worth it!”)

This post is getting way too long, so I will write more later.  I just want to add that, in case it’s not obvious, Robert made this decision carefully and thoughtfully and they are both very happy with it.  Robert says the next step is to make her FAKE orgasms when he is fucking her.  Who could even think of anything that evil?  Well, besides Richard I mean.

My time on Second Life with Amy and Richard has been thrilling to say the least. There are many situations that I have been put in–some fun, some, sexy, some scary, etc.

In one of her posts, Amy spoke of a wonderful place called Kingdom of Sand. To sum it up as fast as I can, KOS is a simulation role play area set in ancient Arabian times. You have a choice between being a slaver, a slave, or a knight. There are other roles in KOS, (Like undead, magi, citizen, djinn, bedouin) but the three I first listed are the ones I spend most of my role playing around with.

Amy and I are both slaves/prey in KOS. My first week was spent learning how to run, jump and hide from slavers. Fun times, I tell you, fun times. Being able to run around the sand without fear of being caught gave me a chance to look around without having to constantly look over my shoulder.

My first day as an official prey was exciting. I ran around and was chased, but was not captured for a few hours. Yay! I was pretty proud of myself.

Then an undead started to stalk me!!  Let me tell you about undeads. They are creatures who do horrific things to the prey that they catch. Like eat them! Or cut up their bodies and put them in jars! I’m not kidding, I’ve spoken to a poor slave who had it happen to her.

Being captured by an undead was not on my list of things to do. It was out of my hands when one started to hunt me, though.

I first noticed my stalker after he jumped from a roof top and trapped me in a tower. He was so scary. His face was rotting off, he was bleeding from his his nose and eyes. He had green stuff on his skin, which I assume was gangrene. He scared me. I screamed aloud and tried to get away, but he was blocking the only entrance. I kept jumping up over and over again to see if I could make it over him, but I kept hitting my head on the damn tower roof.

When I could not find a way around him, I begged Amy to save me. I typed in a private message to her “TP ME!!!!!!!” So she did. Yeah, we cheated, but you would have cheated if you were an innocent KOS virgin and someone who wanted to stuff you into a jar had you trapped in a tower!  (FYI, ‘TP’ means teleport. One SL user can TP another SL to thier location at anytime)

Whew. So once I was back in safe spot I rested for a bit and then decided to make a run for it. I really am a glutton for punishment. I ran toward the cafe which is a dance hall for slaves to entertain slavers. On my map I could see several people chasing me. I didn’t know who they were, but it made my blood pump and my skin sweat. I made it to the cafe, yay! A safe spot where I cannot be captured.

Right after I arrived I received an private message from Amy, she was laughing. Turns out that Richard was in the cafe when I arrived, and he told her that I flew through the air, and then smashed into a wall. Hehe. That happens to me pretty often. It’s a wonder I stayed free as long as I did, because my sense of direction and control of my avi was not too good at that time. As a matter of fact, it’s still not good.

I was eventually captured by that undead. Holy hell, I was scared! The first thing I said to him was “Please don’t eat me.” He told me to shut up or else he would. So I shut up.

On our way to wherever he was taking me we ran into a pretty lady knight. Knights are members of KOS who can fight for or pay for the release of a slave. She offered to pay the undead 100 dinar for me, and he accepted. Whew!

All in all, my capture with the undead was rather anti-climatic. Once we ran into the knight and I saw that the undead was going to sell me to her I knew it was all going to be alright, the thrill of the unknown was taken away.

My next capture was not even a real one. I was standing in a safe zone and was bumped by a slaver. Even though she did not bump me out of the safe zone, a glitch in the KOS system allowed her to capture me. By the way, I didn’t even notice her running into me because I was busy chatting with Amy–as usual, LOL.  Since she did not catch me outside of a safe zone she said she would let free me, sell me, auction me off, whatever I wanted. I was excited to role play so I asked her to keep me for a bit.

After we got to camp, my lady owner and Richard started to plot. They told us to follow them to the ocean shore. Once there we were instructed to take off our clothes and  get into the water. After doing what we were forced to bathe each other. *Wicked grin*
Amy washed my hair and back. Sooo nice. However, before I had the chance to wash her we were told to get out of the water and go back to camp. It turns out that a couple of undeads were watching from a hill. Ewwww.  Once back at camp I told told to braid Amy’s hair. Wheee, fun!

After a few days my Mistress decided to sell me. To Richard!  It took me less than 24 hours to disobey him. Eeek.

We were dancing at the cafe, and Richard said that he had to go somewhere. He said to keep dancing. After a while I left the cafe and went to the market with Amy. She was showing someone how to get there, and I didn’t want her to walk alone with a stranger. Um, we should not have left the cafe.

Master was not pleased.

Richard isn’t someone you disobey.

Now, Amy and I argue over who is responsible for the whipping we both got. I take responsibility because I for sure knew about not being able to leave the cafe, whereas she was not aware of those instructions. Amy feels responsible because she is the senior slave, so it is her job to make sure I follow the rules.

Whatever the case, we both had to remove our clothes and we each received way more than the 3 strikes of the whip we were told we were getting. He really is a bad man! We had to count each strike of the whip while the other was being punished.

Amy and I cried and held each other as best as we could, but we were each in separate cages, so all of our holding had to be done through the bars. The worst thing about the whipping was the sound! Richards whip is equipped with a horrifying cracking/snapping sound every time he whipped it at us. I can still hear it!

It’s sooooo fun being chain sisters with Amy. Most of the time we get to the dance and play. She is sneaky, though. One time she totally ratted on me! What happened was that I was in the mood to be frisky, so I pushed her into a tent and fondled her. Nothing major. She has an incredible body, I wanted to play with it is all.
Well, she tattled on me! She says to Richard, “Master, Jorja was mean to me, blah blah blah.” Trying to get me into trouble. The wench!

I thought I was going to be in trouble, but Master turned the tables on us and asked me if I liked being mean. I admitted it was fun to be mean, but I wasn’t really being mean. I just wanted to touch my pretty sister slave.

I was then told I could give Amy a back rub. *grin*

Not that she deserved to have a back rub after trying to get me into trouble with Master, but hey, any excuse to touch a half naked Amy is never something I’m going to turn down.  We were told to go into one of the tents while I gave Amy her massage. Once we were in there she was trying to wrestle with me instead of letting me massage her. Master has eyes and ears everywhere, and told her that I would be instructed to bite her if she didn’t settle down. I forget what she did or said, but the next words out of Masters mouth were “Jorja, bite Amy’s nipple.”

So I did. Twice.

She then accused me of biting so hard they would fall off. She liked it, though.

As long time readers of our blog know, I am not a fan of orgasm denial.  Richard and I had a somewhat heated exchange about this (documented in the blog) early in our relationship.  My feeling was I’d spent most of my life in unsatisfying vanilla relationships experiencing plenty of orgasm denial.  Now I was finally in a thrilling, deeply satisfying D/s relationship and I wanted to cum as much as was humanly possible.

Richard’s attitude can best be summed up as “I have many tools with which I dominate you.  Some are pleasurable, some are painful.  I will use the ones I choose, when I choose.” <insert evil laughter here>

Happily, Richard’s inner hedonist usually wins out over his inner denier-of-good-stuff-to-Amy.

Furthermore.  Richard told me when we were first together that he had no interest in micro-managing.  He said why would he want to spend time choosing what I wear or reading all my emails or saying what I could or couldn’t eat?  Who was the Dom, then, if he was always running around seeing to me?

One tiny thing that was different than that, of course, was my needing to ask permission to go to the bathroom.  And I pretty much have to ask whenever I want to leave the room or do something different.  I think of it as asking permission to change my status.  : )

Well.  Here is one thing I know about Richard.  He changes his mind.  (For example, before we met in person, he told me he would not ask to see me topless on webcam until we had met in person.  Awesome, I was a webcam virgin and terrified at the thought.  Within a couple of weeks he had my shirt off.  Then pants off.  Then (I am so embarrassed to admit this) he made me masturbate for him on webcam…almost nightly for a while.  Now you know why we moved in together so quickly; I was going to die from humiliation if he didn’t.)

Richard has, over the last few months, begun to enjoy micro-managing me.  The first thing began as a joke.  Richard doesn’t like mayonnaise AT ALL, I love mayonnaise.  One day when I was teasing him, suggesting I put some mayonnaise on his sandwich he said “No.  I don’t want mayonnaise on my sandwich.  And you don’t get it either.”

I stopped, startled, and looked over at him.  He grinned and was silent for a second, obviously savoring my surprise.  “In fact, you can’t have mayonnaise anymore.  You are banned from mayonnaise.”  He nodded at the jar, “You might as well throw that out, since the kids don’t eat mayonnaise either.”

I started to argue with him but his eyebrows shot up.  Never a good sign.  His voice got silky.  “Maybe you don’t want butter either?  Would that make you happier, little girl?”  So I grimaced and said “No sir.  No mayonnaise is fine.  Thank you.”

In the past, he’s tried out banning things but then Richard the hedonist says “Noooo that’s interfering with MY pleasure”.  Things like wine, or ice cream, or (shudder) orgasms.  Of course, he could go ahead and enjoy wine or ice cream without me, and that would be even sexier, but he doesn’t seem to like that.

Last week he banned sodas.  *sob*  I am addicted to Diet Pepsi.  But I think it has been hurting my stomach and possibly making me more susceptible to migraines.  I’ve been trying to cut down, but it doesn’t work.  So he up and decided to ban them.  Hooboy this has been hard.  And this time he hasn’t stopped ordering Diet Pepsi himself.  He’ll sometimes let me have a sip (sometimes not) and oooooh the bliss!  Nectar of the gods!  He says he wants me to feel every sip of soda is a gift from him to me.  Which it definitely feels like, just like the very occasional sandwich with mayo that I am allowed.

What does this have to do with not being allowed to cum?  Well, he’s been enjoying this banning business and I guess he worked up to banning orgasm.  The other day he was fucking me sooooo deliciously.  After a very, very long time he got worn out and he stopped and said “I’m too tired to cum.  Here, let’s make you cum, little girl.”  I started to fuss, as I often do when he tells me what to do.  “I’m too tired to cum.  I probably can’t.”  Usually he says “Come on.  Do it.  Don’t be sassy.”  And I fuss a little more, but eventually I get around to cumming.

Not this time.  He said “Fine.  You won’t cum.   In fact, you aren’t going to cum today at all.  And we’ll see about whether you can cum tomorrow.”  Of course that made me desperate to cum, but he was adamant.  This was especially distressing to me, because lately I have been wanting/needing (which is it? I don’t know) to cum a LOT.

So now it has been like three days and I am humming like a tightly strung bow.  I may spontaneously combust if he doesn’t let me cum soon.  Hopefully he will read this and say “Aww, poor little girl.  Let’s make you cum.”  And not “Oh I LIKE this.  Let’s do it some more.”

Pray for me, dear readers.

xoAmy