24.7

The pressure is off, at least the work pressure. Amy’s major project is now out of her hands, and in the pipe, so we are off on a brief mini adventure.

Oh, Amy says “hi”. She’s in a nice snug sweater and lowrider jeans at the moment. Very yummy.

We are just about to head out, so I’ll make this brief.

We headed up the coast, along the #1 Highway North of LA up to Big Sur, and saw elephant seals crashed on the beach.

Ok, there’s LOTS more to this, but here’s a quick shot of Amy crashing after an interesting evening as well.

More to this story. It’s been an great couple of days.

Love the wiggle dress, with see through panties.  Amy thinks it’s too short.

Pushing some boundaries.

More later.

I am so excited I may just burst.

Work has been unbelievably stressful, but the worst of it will be behind me on Wednesday.

On Thursday, Richard and I are going on a road trip.

We’re going to go to one or two BDSM clubs and an Event.

We’re going to spend a couple of days with another D/s couple. A couple that plays much more intensely than we do, so I’m a little nervous about that. I have this teensy fear of the two Domly Ones getting into a “look what I can make my slave do”. Or “my slave is more slavely than your slave”. Which I would for sure lose, since the other woman is a pain slut and really into anal and an exhibitionist and much more experienced than me in just about anything you can name.

But here’s the best part of the road trip and why I’m so excited I can barely concentrate to finish my work. The slave in the D/s couple we’re staying with is my friend Megan. I wrote about Megan in April. I cut and pasted that post below, since I can’t figure out how to hotlink on our new site yet. Megan is one of the smartest, funniest, sexiest people I’ve ever known and she was my sole support in the early days of me discovering my submissive side. Without her, I wouldn’t have had the courage to meet Richard, which was the best thing that ever happened to me (Richard says “sure you would have; you didn’t have a choice” lol).

Megan was also one of the initial motivators for starting this blog, because she told me that I should write about everything that happened in my new life with Richard so I could remember it better later. Plus she’s a perv, of course, so she wanted to hear details about my crazy new sex life.

Oh, one final thing: I think we’re gonna do a photoshoot together. I’m pushing for Amy the Schoolteacher and Megan the Naughty Schoolgirl, but we’ll have to see how it goes.

Wheeeee!

————————————————————–
April 20, 2007

My Friend the Slave

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.

Erotic Orchid courtesy of Erotic Garden.

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #99? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

Note: Details of the Sugasm #100 celebrations will appear in Tuesday’s post request.

This Week’s Picks
Anal, her perspective
“This entire anal sex episode had started some months earlier, on a theoretical level.”

When the Muse Wants to Fuck
“Participles, linking verbs, superlative adjectives… You want more?”

Chef
“He’s already at work, but he’s left an order behind on the scraps of ordering paper that we have all over the house.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself
The Secret Diary of a Callgirl

Editor’s Choice
Whipped on this day: 1791

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

(Sugasm participants should re-post all the links above. The following links may be excluded as long as you include all the above links.)

NSFW Pics & Videos

Chicagoland by Rand McNally, Body by Celina, Photos by Usama Alshaibi
Erotic Orchid
Eva Angelina (Twistys)
Half-Nekkid Blogging
HNT (Hopelessly Narcissistic Thursday) - What I Want…
Three In The Morning by Westland Armitage

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
Brothel story II
The Double Standard of Promiscuity

Eye contact
Half-Nekkid Dessert
Inclinations
Long Distance Lovin’
Playing a Role
Women aren’t the only ones with cunts

Sex News & Reviews

Beefcake Calendar Bonanza
Deeply Throaty
Sex Swing Review
Submit to CineKink!

Erotic Writing and Experiences
Craving Me
A Gift Between Friends
In Which I (Almost) Get My First Facial
Milk And Honey

The other girl
A place to live
Visit To A Sex Club
We Don’t Have Fantasies, We Have Plans

Sex Advice & Sex Poetry
How to be a Cum-Guzzler
In deep cushions redolent of perfume

BDSM & Fetish
At the Club
Back to the Garden of Carnal Delights
Catalina loves To Submit
Doll of wax
Fantasy: A man walks into a bar…
Marks like Pink Ribbons pt. 1
My Checkered Past: The Earth Moves Under My Feet

The Nooner
Post Party Portrait
The Way of a Man with a Maid
Whips and Lubes

About a week ago, with both of us laying rather stunned and exhausted on the bed, Amy caught her breath first, and managed to say “That was the fuck of a lifetime.”

I had to agree.

Not audibly, of course. Well, maybe not audibly. Who remembers these things? I might have waved a weakly fluttering wrist, or gave a particularly approving sound of some sort, but simply surviving the next five minutes would have been a higher priority, and I needed all my energy if I wanted to guarantee my breathing beyond the next few minutes.

I don’t really remember it now. I think it involved some spanking, maybe some…oh, I don’t know. Ii was kinda in the moment, but I do remember agreeing with Amy’s assessment. Maybe she can remember it better and will post about it, but a week is too far back to remember which sex happened at which time. It’s all a blur to me.

I remember a couple of days later after sex wondering if my heart would collapse. I had done a heart stress test earlier in the day, then we went to Disneyland with the kids until midnight. My legs were dead after the stress test (which I aced, btw - new Doc - worried about my cholesterol levels) and running around Disneyland just about finished me off. It’s the off season, so there are no lines. Do you know how much walking you have to do when there are no lines? omigod. Just give me a line to stand in, so I can rest a minute. Thank god for Space Mountain - any chance to sit and I’m there. And now that they’ve got that California theme park addition, well it’s TWICE the walking. yay.

So we leave at midnight.

The kids are asleep in minutes. Amy is an early to bed kind of girl, likes to be asleep almost as soon as the sun goes down.

So we’re in bed. Both exhausted, ready to sleep.

Then something goes horribly wrong. It’s suddenly two o’clock, maybe three, who knows? And I’m slumped back against my pillows, wondering if I’m gonna die. And about as fucked out as any man can get.

WTF?

Don’t leave me in a room with this woman.

Seriously.

I think she’s trying to kill me.

Here she is yesterday morning.

Did I mention both of us have had the busiest weeks this week we’ve had since we’ve known each other? We’ve had no time to play, it’s been late nights of work and terribly high stress for Amy - with a LOT of work pressure on her. Last night, we took a break after 10 pm. and headed to MacDonalds for ice cream sundaes. A dollar each - those things are such a good deal, and a good size for the money. Makes a nice quick late night outing.

We come back, and I finish working on the laptop, while an exhausted Amy falls asleep on the couch beside me, making little sounds from time to time. I wake her later, and take her to bed, both of us dead tired.

We crawl into bed naked, I spoon Amy up to me, holding her, and happen to let one hand rest on her breast. I start to nibble on the back of her ear, kiss along her neck, the kind of quiet cuddling you always do when you are settling in to sleep. Standard stuff, nothing special, nothing sexy.

She starts to wiggle.

Omigod.

Amy is pushing that lovely white ass (see above pic) into me, and wriggling.

I tell her I’m far too tired to fuck her, but if she needs to cum I’ll take care of it for her.

She says she doesn’t need to cum, but I’m not convinced. She needs her sleep, so I’m not in a mood to dilly dally, and I start to play with her nipples. I figure I can make her cum soon enough, and she’ll have a nice restful sleep afterwards. Amy knows what I’m doing, and starts to protest, but the nipple play heats her up quickly.

Then she discovers that I’m hard.

Sure, I’m erect, but it’s not a sustainable erection. I’m just too tired. I tell her that, and keep playing with her nipples, but in a moment she’s out of my fingers, and down with her mouth surrounding my cock.

Have I mentioned Amy’s recent determination to be a bad girl? Well, she’s working on it. She figures I can give her pointers, since I’ve known a few bad women, but I’m not much good there - Amy has pretty much burned the memory of other women into a pale distant ash. But she sucking cock like abad girl, or maybe a very good girl. Semantics. Whatever. She’s just really good at it, and I slip my hand down under the arm she is propped up on, and my hand cradles the breast that falls into it.

Her nipples are hard.

She climbs on top of me, eagerly, and my cock slides effortlessly into a pussy so wet and open I can hardly tell it’s there. Well, on entry anyway. It’s there all right. Amy leans over and suspends those perfect breasts inches in front of my face in the moonlight, while down below her hips work some kind of incredible wriggly magic that my cock feels all too intently. I’m using my hands and mouth on those wonderful breasts, and Amy asks if she can try something.

Sure, why not?

She turns around, reverse cowgirl. We tried this before; it didn’t work.

It’s working this time.

She starts off low, her breasts grazing my legs, as she pumps her pussy up and down,, and all around on my cock. I can see her tanlines in the light, and that great ass of hers right THERE, right in front of me, and me with nothing to do with my hands.

My hands find her ass.

I find her asshole soon enough, and as she presses back against my cock, I massage her asshole,, spreading her cheeks and rubbing it with the ball of my thumb.

She makes noises.

Sexy noises.

We play like this for a while, then I tell her I’m going to grab the butt plug.

She says something - I’m not sure what. Maybe she was incoherent, I don’t know. She has some issues with the butt plug, maybe a love/hate kind of thing. Hard to say. All I know is that I get interesting reactions when I put it up her.

Oh.

And she doesn’t like to discuss it. We’ve used it maybe four times. Maybe more - who knows? She hasn’t posted about ANY of those times yet.

So she’s making some kind of vocalization down there, a protest I think, or maybe she’s asking something, I’m not really paying that much attention. I can reach the butt plug in the drawer without breaking our position, and I spread some lube on her ass and work it into her asshole, and rub a nice big amount onto the butt plug. I locate her asshole with one finger, finger fuck her ass for a bit, then I slide the tip of the butt plug along that finger and into her ass.

The butt plug goes in easily. I start to fuck her with the butt plug. It bends my cock a bit forward, and it occurs to me it might now be pressing against her g-spot. I make a note to ask her about it later, although I end up forgetting that resolution until now.

She sits up now, facing away from me, my cock firm in her cunt, the buttplug wedged into her ass. I play with her nipples, her weakness, and she wriggles and squirms at the dual invasion.

Lovely.

I alternate between playing with her nipples, holding her hips and fucking her, and manually fucking her with the butt plug.

She makes many little noises, most of them positive. When I slow, she keeps on fucking. She’s being a good girl. Or a bad girl. Semantics, once again. She’s being fucked, and she’s into it. Enough said.

I taunt her with fantasies of a double penetration; she’s clearly ready to be double fucked, both mentally and physically.

All I need is a volunteer.

I tell her I’m going to take out the butt plug, and fuck her ass in this position. She makes more sexy sounds, possibly even words - probably expressing shock and dismay. She’s fucking sexy, and I aim my cock at her asshole, and guide her back onto it. Neither of us has ever ass fucked in this position before, and I calmly guide and instruct her on how to most easily impale her slippery ass onto my cock.

Here the lube does us a disservice. She, and I, are too slick. My cock keeps popping away from her ass, due to all the lube. I flip her over now, ass in the air, and start to feed my cock into her from this angle, a nice traditional doggy style ass fucking.

Still to slippery, and after a couple of tries I just press my cock into her pussy, and start fucking her.

Now she’s making lots of noise. Her favorite position, so no shock there, but still, she’s pretty enthusiastic.

Eventually, exhausted, I break the position, and tell her to masturbate. She’s not sure, she’s afraid she’s too tired to cum. I make her masturbate for a while, and then, well what the fuck. She can cum tomorrow.

I pull her hands away and move between her thighs, and tell her she’s not going to be cumming tonight. I start to fuck her, figuring I’m too tired to cum, but I’ll fuck her off, and we’ll be done with it.

She’s not really sentient, not at moments like this. I love those moments, when she turns into nothing but fuck, growling, begging, pleading - biting hard and deep into my shoulder, her hips fighting for ever deeper, ever harder penetration into her cunt.

I’m fucking exhausted. I’m fucking on empty - I’ve got nothing left, I started with nothing, for fuck’s sake. I like the thought that my little sexy girl started this all of, and now she’s not even going to get to cum. I’m much too tired to cum, let alone fuck her with the intensity it takes to cum, but I fuck her anyway. I’m quite aware that she probably ovulated earlier today, or will later tonight, so she’s fucking fertile, and probably that’s what started the whole thing off, whether she knows it herself. I think she knows it.

I like the idea of her not being allowed to cum, and lying beside me in the bed tonight full of my cum, exhausted. The image appeals to me, I like the thought of using her that way, and I cum.

Amy clings to me, and whimpers something about being overheated. We roll apart, essentially fucked senseless. I don’t know the time, but it’s late. I’m not moving, I’m just dead. Amy seems to be about the same, the two of us for a bit just lie there recovering, getting our second wind back, getting ready to cool off, get back into each other’s arms, and drift off to sleep, her pretty ass pressed quietly up against my cock as always, her little belly filled with cum, and me nibbling on her ear and kissing her neck, telling her what a good girl she is.

Standard stuff, nothing special, nothing sexy…

Welcome to the new location! For anybody who is here for the first time, you can catch up on all the action by reading the archives, all the way back to March until the present.

For our previous readers, we’ve tried to keep things as homey as possible, although we’ve made some changes to accommodate the different software. I do hope you’ll enjoy what you find. We have some of your favorite Amy photos listed as favorites on the Blogroll to the right, as well as a link below the picture.

Amy Spanked by Richard

The favorite Amy pictures are here. We will be adding more pics frequently, of course. And we’ll be working on smoothing out any rough edges this site still has from our transition.

Thanks for stopping by, we really appreciate your coming by to see us!

Richard

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.

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.