For Ma'am

This morning I scened with Heidi.  She slapped, punched, kicked, bit and choked me; then fucked me hard with one of our larger dildos.  I came fast- the whole scene only lasted about 20 minutes (I think).   I cried some afterwards.  I had wanted her to take a picture of just my eyes with the tears, to post here, but I couldn’t speak well enough to ask.  (I was in subspace and pretty fuck-stupid.) 

 

She talked to me during the beat down about how she owns me, how her & Steve will do whatever they want to sexually- despite and maybe sometimes in spite of my wishes.  She talked about her jerking him off onto my face and then her licking it off.  About how “at the bottom” I am; how little control I have.  She talked about encouraging Master to cuck me again, very soon, and about how much they both love the pain it causes me.   It was a fantastic scene- something we did really need after we had a scene crash and burn a couple days back.  We both felt that we really re-connected today. 

 

I love her so much.  It’s a bit hard to explain our overall relationship to anyone.  From what you read here, you may think her to be completely cold and nasty- that is really not the case.  Even in our scening, she is very calculated about everything she says and does.  Since she has limited experience, she also does a lot of research into me, my psychology, previous experiences, and mechanics before trying new territory.  She also often consults Steve, and/or has him watch.  She did that even during the fall when Steve and I were going through a very rough patch.  She loves me a lot… Even as she is kicking my ass or raping me, or helping Steve cook up something to hurt me, I know without question that she loves me.  She loves me more, or at least more intensely when I am hurting, humiliated or crying, I think.  That is something which I am completely unable to understand, to be honest.  How can you love something so pathetic and weak?  I really don’t get it… from either her or my Master.  But they both do.

 

I feel very scared by her words about her activities with Master.  Scared and (god, this is SO gonna bite me in the ass) maybe a bit excited…  I mean, it’s a dangerous psychological game for them to play given Steve’s and my history- one that would likely leave me angry and resentful if employed to often.   But I trust them both to know what abuse is more than I can take and what is just right.  I would like to take this opportunity to request of them both- if you are going to do this to me… could you please just promise me to always provide me with something I can save from this sort of encounter together?  A recording, picture… anything?  Please?   (

[Via http://cuckqueanslavery.wordpress.com]

Sympatico?

Last night I met the man I’m going to marry!

Robert (RM) and I met online about 6 weeks ago and though I’ve felt my attraction to him growing over the weeks, I resisted meeting him in person for two reason, 1. There was a potential of meeting with DB, which has died a death since his non response to my message of last week) 2. I wanted to be sure that my feelings were not confused and on the back of talks I had had with DB, I would not dishonour someone by doing that.

Over the last  couple of week, RM has shown himself to be a man of principle, loyalty and chivalry; he actually offered to come pick me up from work last week when it was snowing quite heavily and I became scared about driving. When he said he was free to meet Sunday evening, I cancelled my plans with MK and waited with eager anticipation for 9pm. When RM eventually arrived (after taking several wrong turns around the confing bendy country lanes), I was completely breathless – which turned quickly into giggles. I knew he was tall (just over 6 feet), but I had no idea that he was so handsome, with the softest, most kind eyes I’ve seen on any man.

We sat and talked for a short while and then snuggled (with him sitting behind me, with me pulled in between his legs – his idea) with his arms around me as we began to watch The Story of O (his choice). I could tell from the way his face was nuzzling into my neck and hair, that he was not really watching the film; and I suspect that he could tell just how aroused I was becoming, between certain images in the film and his hand on my bare midriff. I loved that he wasn’t ‘trying it on’, but made it clear, in a very subtle way, that he wanted to make love.

When I asked if he was comfy (on my teeny sofa), he suggested we move to the bedroom and asked me to lead the way, which I more than happily did. From gentle carresses and soft kisses, what followed was loving and passionate, until we fell asleeep tightly embraced. When he left this morning, I felt contented and peaceful, he said he felt the same way. I’m still smiling as I remember moments from last night, how beautiful it was, how natural, how completely at ease and giving we were with each other.

If  ’sympatico’ really exists, then RM and I certainly have it.

[Via http://paradisegained.wordpress.com]

Daily Batman: The Cat and the Bat...girl (nsfw)

The Cat and the Bat girl do get up to some games, too. These cats and bats: it is kind of a Thing.

“Who Wants Saving?”

Pictures are part of the set “Cat Woman” by Sharon K Cooper, aka sosij on flickr.

“After A Night on the Tiles.”

Please note the Catwoman mask in Gidget’s hands. Hilarity. Also, where the where did those wonderful panties come from because I don’t have them yet and that is an Inexcusable Crime that I want to remedy as fast as possible.

“Holy Smokes.”

My wardrobe of Batclothes is ever-growing thanks to the combined efforts of Hot Topic and the Target little boys’ department, but without Nancy Droop* panties it is clearly still gross in lackage (I will never be done building my collection, and I hate it very much for the vain, materialistic, juvenile freak that it makes me, but I can’t fight it … it’s too deeply ingrained).

(one of these days I will comb back through the journal and see how many insult-nicknames I have called Batgirl/Barbara Gordon by this year alone.)

[Via http://thethoughtexperiment.wordpress.com]

75 - Undressed

You keep your clothes on – never get undressed

Show just enough to make me want to stay

But never give more than you need away

Maintain the fiction that you know what’s best

How cleverly you tease my interest

Suggesting so much more than you display -

And I fill up the gaps in what you say

With what I hope will one day be expressed:

While I go naked – totally exposed

I shout and scream my love into the air -

While you remain immaculately posed

I could go crazy and you wouldn’t care:

But this is also true: I couldn’t bear

To be so open, if you weren’t so closed.

[Via http://jnescio.wordpress.com]

Male-At-Birth Inclusive Kinky Women's Space

My experience at San Francisco’s Women’s BDSM Group The Exiles. The policy here is that anyone who does not identify as a man is welcome. That is revolutionary as it explicitly includes a male-bodied GenderQueer like Jasper. By barring the man identified, and incuding everyone else this group is redefining women’s space. Not only was it completely inclusive of me but it was also inclusive of bissexual women and straight women. Many of the groups who traditionally get excluded in in lesbian spaces which define the male-born as their ‘other’.

Yay, Yay, Yay! this is a big deal. The Exiles has set the bar for inclusive space.

[Via http://jasperswardrobe.wordpress.com]

2009 Wrap up

What happened in 2009? What were the changes, the significant events, the goals for next year?

Family

The relationship with my mom stayed the same, good as ever, and the bond with my dad grew a bit stronger, which was a welcome change. He also started to feel happier this year, which is an extremely good thing, after years of being somewhat depressed.

My grandparents moved into a apartment close to a home for elderly this year, after my grandmother had months of being in and out of the hospital. They are really getting old now, not going outside any more, and memory slowly going backwards. Which is not that strange, since they are 88 and 89 years old. It’s already an amazing achievement they managed to live by themselves for all these years.

I also started to get along with my aunt better. She is quite judgemental, which is difficult to deal with sometimes, but I manage to ignore that more and more, and focus on her good sides. We had an amazing weekend in Edinbrough, nicer than most of our weekends away in preceding years.

Friends

I met a lot of new people this year. Some of which I will probably grow closer to and develop a good friendship with in the next year, and some of which will stay at the borders of my life. My old friendships did not get as much attention as I would have liked. One of my friends moved away to another city in the end of 2008, so I saw way less of her than in the years before, and the other ‘university’-friends I also saw less, mostly due to busy schedules on my side. The same goes for my metalfriends. I’m extremely happy I’ll celebrate new year’s eve with them, because I missed them lots the past year.

Work/Study

I started on my master thesis this year, with a very interesting topic: media-influences on gender stereotypes. Everything is going as planned until now, but joining a action-platform against the reducing of funding by the government for education in general and students in particular, will probably cause slight delay next year.

This year I also started more new work-like volunteer things than ever before: I joined the editorial board for a magazine on gender en feminism, and wrote a few pieces for them as well (first time being published, yay!), I became a ticket-control-person for a music venue (best secondary benefits ever: always going to concerts for free, and more than 50% discount on drinks), and on the verge of this year I also started an internet-forum about bisexuality (which might even broaden itself to the topic of all ‘deviant’ kinds of sexuality and relationships).

Love

Still together with the boyfriend. There were some problems around the summer, but we solved them, and now we’re better than ever. And our future plans are getting more and more shape. Our relationship also became a bit more open this year, on our way to something more polyamourous. I also had a few crushes, and kissed a girl. Or two XD Nothing really substantial came from that, relationshipwise, but it was quite note-worthy nevertheless.

Spirituality

I wanted to start meditating more this year, so I recently did a short course, which was quite nice. I still don’t do it as often as I would like though… Also, I joined a internet-forum which has a down to earth view on spirituality to have some extra primer to muse on certain things. I’d like to get more into some non-fuzzy paganism, I think. Living closer to nature really appeals to me, especially foodwise, but also just in having more attention to the cycles of the seasons.

Music

I got more into medieval stuff, although I can’t name any bands, it’s more the style in general that really started to appeal to me. No new bands discovered this year, although I did get more into Sabaton, Turisas and Kate Nash than before.

My favourite performance of this year was Anathema, in my “own” venue. That concert kicked ass. They played all the favourites, came back twice after leaving, and the atmosphere was amazing.

Sex/bdsm

Relatively non-existent this year. I have never gone this long without intercourse since my first time at 16. This year I acknowledged I was raped by my ex-boyfriend Viking, and I started a very slow healing process, to heal all the hurt that was caused when people stepped over my boundaries. Bdsm came a bit back into my life, although it is still nowhere as important as it used to be. There are still a lot of fears to be conquered before all goes well in that area again.

Stuff that should be mentioned but did  not fit in any of the other categories

- I moved from a very sucky place to a much nicer place. Although it is a bit smaller, my landlord is way nicer than my former landlady. A relatively small change, that affected my life in a very positive sense.

- (Juice)fasting is not nice, and only makes me think about food. I am never going to try that again…

- More food-related stuff: I started eating meat again, after being a vegetarian for 11 years. I missed meat, but especially fish, a lot, and decided that that craving was too large to be ignored. I still don’t eat huge quantities of meat, and usually only when I’m at someone else’s place or at a restaurant.

Resolutions

I don’t really do resolutions, because I try to change stuff if I come across it during the year, not just at one point every 365 days. But well, since it is sort of obligatory:

- more meditation. My goal is to meditate daily (be it 5 minutes or a full hour), to be achieved before summer.

- paying more attention to my energy-level. I tend to overdo it, because there are so many amazing people and nice things to do in life. This goal is best operationalized as more time for myself without having to have to do stuff: each week, one day without appointments (may be a university-day).

- get (more) in touch with my sexual self again: there is some sort of plan now, the Master’s and Johnson approach, but now we (the boyfriend and I) need time and space to actually follow up on this plan. Which makes it very much connected with the goal before this one: more time for myself is more space in my head is more room for my sexuality

- Write more, for self-reflection, for my dairy, for my blog, poetry, stories, etc. No clear operationalized goal or deadline here, since that will decrease my creativity more than it will benefit from that.

- Spend less time behind the computer and read more, and cook/bake more. Which is also related to the energy-level goal, since the interwebs can grab you and take away all your energy. Mwahahaha!

[Via http://nuclearrainbow.wordpress.com]

Bad Blogs #1

12/20/2009- I upset Master by being immature about having to go in early to work. I was being very ungrateful, and should have appreciated the fact that I have a job that’s actually giving me hours.

12/21/2009- I upset Master by getting an attitude with him after I was leaving the mall. I made him feel like a jerk for thinking it was rude for me to be talking to friends while I had him on my cellphone.

[Via http://submissivewire.wordpress.com]

Drive your man crazy

This year for the holidays drive your man crazy,

Dear Santa.....

it’s time you put a little festive cheer into your light bondage play. If you want to add some color to bondage play, enjoy using this Plush Cuff Set. This set, with a holiday theme, includes everything you need. The set includes a pair of handcuffs, a pair of leg cuffs, a Santa’s hat and blindfold. So not only will your partner be under your control, but they will be stylish.

The cuffs are tethered by a chain and clip for easy adjustment. They use a Velcro closure for a comfortable fit on the wrists and legs.

[Via http://morethanjustknots.wordpress.com]

Breasts--We've Got 'Em

Breasts

Boobs

Tatas

Tits

Hooters

Delectable

[Via http://domdominique.wordpress.com]

More Docs Review by JBRoper

DOCS REVIEW BY JBROPER

Loved the background and the lighting quite a bit. The building provided lots of options. The camera angles were great as always. You really do have a knack at angles and editing that most bondage producers don’t have. I also loved the first glimpse of the Cannibal. The first grab of the girl was impressive, it was very quick and pure mainstream quality.

Also, the models were very attractive, especially the main model. (love the red fingernails too). Had to turn the sound down a bit, because the constant screaming might make my neighbor wonder.

Keep up the good work JB

JBROPER.COM

[Via http://bnsproductions.wordpress.com]

Great review of Bottoms Up: Spanking Good Stories at Feminist Review

I love this review by Lesley Kartali of Bottoms Up: Spanking Good Stories at Feminist Review:

There is an even mix of stories representing different perspectives: giving, receiving, fantasizing, and watching spanking. The majority of stories comprise male/female partnerships, though there are a few involving queer characters. Since openly male authors in this genre are apparently uncommon, this particular collection has mostly male authors.

One of the things I liked most is that many of the stories felt real in the sense that the characters were often experiencing the conflicting feelings of arousal, confusion, and guilt that often come with having a fetish. The sensation of pleasure mixed with pain is a major theme and, of course, is pretty much the basic idea of BDSM. The character in “Ass Worship,” for instance, is drawn to experiment with being spanked. He has many questions about it and is extremely nervous at first, unsure if he can actually go through with it.

Many of the stories involve a person’s first time being spanked or spanking someone else. Others involve such exciting and sometimes amusing subjects as swingers, Renaissance Fair fantasies, church frolicking, and (in the editor’s piece) a spanking machine. My very favorite story, “I’m Going to Grab Your Hair,” is written as though the author (and spanker) is “dirty talking” to the reader (and spankee). It is rough and nasty and thrilling. I’d never read an erotica piece in quite that style before.

[Via http://bottomsupbook.wordpress.com]

The top drop

About two weeks ago, the boyfriend and I went to a party again, at the same location as last time. We had a good time, played a little (there were ice cubes between my boob and my shirt and he put a chain between my nipple-piercings, poor nipples), and although I felt submissive at times, I never was deeply subby.

Note: I have not been deeply subby in about two years. A few times I went quite deep when in play, and I did do service-like things, but that was not common and those feelings where relatively rare and short-lived. So, it is not strange that it does not happen to me now, especially because we do not play that often and we both have some problems getting into our ‘roles’ and maintaining them.

So, everything went fine, until he asked me, out of nowhere, to kneel and kiss his boots. I was caught off guard, so my primal response was “No!”. For something like that I need to feel some level of subby-ness, and at that moment that was completely absent, because a little thing with the chained nipples had not gone well a few minutes before. The small issue had been solved, but I was still a bit grumpy (I do need a lot of reassurance when something goes wrong, even when it’s not a very big deal, I blame the asshole ex). My negative answer immediately made the boyfriend doubt himself, completely dropping out of his dominant state of mind that he had been in before. We left soon after, because we had both lost the mood to play or party.

A top drop. The plummeting of emotions into the negative spectrum regarding dominant feelings. Sometimes it entails feeling bad about the stuff the dominant did after the scene, sometimes it happens during a scene. It is difficult to overcome the lessons learned by our society: you do not hit other people, especially not if they are women. Raping, humiliating, using another human being are all Very Bad Things, that Normal People Just Don’t Do. Doing bdsm as a dominant goes against all those lessons, and even though you know you’re doing them with a consenting adult, does not make the bad feelings go away. Also, a top drop can be what the boyfriend experienced: a sudden doubt of the own capabilities as a dominant. Sometimes this follows the feelings as described above, but it can also stand on itself, like in our situation.

I’m not completely sure how to best deal with a partner with a top drop, it depends on how the partners ‘work’ with each other; some might want more physical reassurance (cuddling!) while some need some distant, while others want to talk about it immediately. The boyfriend and me talked about it when sitting in the car, I told him about the term, which helped him a bit, because labelling something shows that others have it too, which usually helps in accepting and moving on. Open communication is the best advise I can give here. As a submissive: tell your dominant you like the things he/she does to you, that it makes you feel good. As a dominant: ask your submissive for his/her feedback, and be open about your feelings.

After all, everyone is human and needs reassurance every once in a while, especially when you’re doing Very Bad Things which also happen to be Very Nice.

Disclaimer: this is all written from personal experience or stories from other. I have not done research on this, although that would be a nice to do. Too bad I would probably not get funds for it…

[Via http://nuclearrainbow.wordpress.com]

Headaches

I get these killer tension headaches. They start low, at the base of my skull and wind their way up across the top of my head. Sometimes I can catch them early and a few well swallowed Excedrin help keep the worst of it away.  I am the first to admit that I have a very stressful life. Between work, school, the husband, children and everything else, I am surprised I haven’t had an aneurysm. Suffice it to say, there is no question as to why they rip through me on a daily basis.

Here’s a little bit of interesting physiological information. “A range of theories exists as to the etiology and attraction of BDSM (APA, 2000; Masters et al., 1995; Weinberg, 1995). Clinical and lay views on the practice of BDSM range from its being a form of normal, healthy sexuality, to being reflective of issues related to vulnerability and intimacy, to its being synonymous with mental illness.” (http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_go1613/is_1_15/ai_n29248689/pg_2/?tag=content;col1) There is a fine line between the pain and pleasure centers in the brain. When a person has an abnormally high threshold of pain, it is fairly easy for the release of endorphins to be interpreted by the body as pleasurable even when those endorphins are released as a pain response in the body.

Here’s the thing… for me the massive release of endorphins not only lessens my headaches, but obliterates them, often for days. I have been told I have a high pain threshold. Never having experienced anything else, I can’t tell you if there is truth in that statement. Strangely enough, I’m not a fan of pain. Yes my body responds to it, revels in it in fact, but the physical sensation of pain has never excited me. It is that moment after the pain is inflicted that my body swoons into blissful oblivion. When pain and pleasure are mixed together I go sailing off the edge of the cliff and absolutely nothing on this planet can equal the wonderfully safe and comfortable feeling I experience in that moment.

[Via http://bbwneedsitnow.wordpress.com]

I Want Him To Dominate Me

In the absence of that ideal lover I dream of in my fantasies, I want my own husband to dominate me. I want him to take charge and be the kind of man who knows what he wants, who is confident of himself, who knows precisely what he wants and how he’s going to get it. I want him to be the kind of man who is in control of his life and his destiny, and a man who can possess my own life and dictate it. At least behind the bedroom doors for now.

I want a man’s man. A man who knows where he’s heading, knows where he wants to be in five years’ time. A man who leads, who chases after goals, who knows how a man should be and how a woman should be in his presence. A man who does not dice words. A man of few words, in fact, but plenty of action. I want a man who is braver than me, stronger than me, more willful than me. A man I can respect and fear.

[Via http://pleasurechemical.wordpress.com]

the many faces of thanks

Not too long ago, I spent part of a weekend with a group of leatherfolk. Part of the agreed-upon deal was that one person’s boy was in service to the entire group for the duration of our time together.

This boy was a master at his craft. His service was seamless. I had only to shiver, and a jacket would appear. Drinks were refilled as if by magic. He was respectful and yet warm, friendly but unobtrusive. And this wasn’t about any existing knowledge of our preferences or needs; he was just extremely observant and took initiative when appropriate. Really, I was thoroughly impressed. When our time together ended, I made a point of mentioning to him and to his dominant that I really appreciated the quality of his service.

The boy mentioned that none of the others had said anything about it. Nobody else had thanked him.

Now, he wasn’t bitter about it; in fact, he was quite philosophical. No grouchy-pants here. But his remark really got me thinking.

Sometimes, the whole point of good service is to be invisible. Many service-oriented types strive to anticipate, to meet needs before a dominant actually even knows those needs exist. And in many of those cases, the proof of having achieved the quality that they’re striving for is precisely that the dominant doesn’t notice what’s happening. They only see the results, and sometimes those results are simply as expected. “I’d like to wear my white shirt tomorrow” is a simple request. Sometimes that might mean taking the shirt out of the closet. Other times, that might mean laundering it in a complex ritual of products and timings to get that awful stain out, washing it, drying it, ironing it and sewing back on the button that popped off last week, and then crossing town to get it to the dominant’s door in time for work the next day. For some submissives, their satisfaction with their own work lies in the assurance that a request will be met regardless of whether it’s easy or hard. Sometimes, it’s the very the fact of a task being difficult or complex or exacting that makes it so satisfying. And the height of satisfaction sometimes occurs when the results are assumed (by the dominant) and delivered (by the submissive), no questions asked, no explanations given.

A dominant’s assumption of good service can be an indication of deep trust in the submissive’s abilities; a dominant’s lack of explicit verbal direction can in fact be a highly evolved form of non-verbal communication. A slight pause, a raised eyebrow, a glance – these things can convey eloquent messages and the submissive’s understanding and response is effectively their part of the fluid, beautiful, elegant and harmonious dance that is D/s. And even when that’s not happening, the sheer satisfaction of being so damn good that you know what someone needs before they even have time to think of it can be pretty powerful – as can the satisfaction of rendering a service to a community by means of easing the work of some of its members, even when there’s no direct interest in those members as individuals per se. In short, sometimes effectively taking a submissive for granted, or being taken for granted as a submissive, is the turn-on. It is the reward. It is, paradoxically, the thank-you and the recognition.

On the flip side, sometimes being taken for granted sucks. Sometimes it just means there’s an arrogant dominant (or two, or five, or ten) who assumes they’re entitled to being waited upon hand and foot and feels no need to say thanks or recognize a job well done. Sometimes it means the submissive pours out their energy and skill to make magic happen, and they go home drained and empty and dissatisfied because nobody noticed all their hard work or held up the dominant end of the “fluid, harmonious dance” bargain – they simply took the goodies and ignored the person behind them. And worse still, I know submissives who would feel guilty, who would feel like they were not “submissive enough” or not like a “real” or “true” submissive, simply for daring to want that recognition. Don’t make the mistake of thinking this makes them doormats; it doesn’t. It makes them people who operate on a service-oriented paradigm that simply does not line up with mainstream society’s understanding of how relationships work. That doesn’t mean such folks always operate in perfect emotional health; certainly destructive patterns can come along with this mindset. But it’s not unhealthy by definition. It’s just not a perfect pairing with someone who’s not willing or able to hold their part in the dance.

Ah, the question of pairing. In leather community, we know and interact with people who are openly and proudly service-oriented more than we’re likely to in mundane society. But many leatherfolk have personalities and relationship paradigms that have nothing to do with receiving or giving service or submission. In addition to that, there’s a numbers problem going on. To make a long story short, whereas I have yet to encounter someone who can explain the reasons for this to my satisfaction, it’s a fairly established fact that in most segments of the community, bottoms – including submissive and service-oriented folks – outnumber tops by a fairly large margin. So there aren’t enough dominants for all the submissives out there. And of the dominants that exist, not all of them have any inkling of how to appropriately respond to or receive service. So even though dominants who know what to do with service do exist, there aren’t enough of them to go around.  As a result, many service-oriented people have a hard time finding satisfying relationships, through the leather community, into which they can channel their desire for service.

So what do they do? They combine leather community (the community that is friendly to their kink) and service (the kink in question) the best way they know how: they volunteer.

And they volunteer, and volunteer, and volunteer. They’re the first in line to do the thankless clean-up shift after the party. They’ll get up at an ungodly hour to drive a visiting presenter to the airport, or shop for weeks for the most hard-to-find of party decorations, or lift heavy objects that nobody else will attempt to move. These people often end up being the backbone of the community – the people without whom shit just wouldn’t get done. But because they often operate in a mindset that precludes asking for thanks, and because not everyone realizes what’s going on or knows how to hold up their end of the paradigmatic bargain, these folks are often the ones we forget to thank.

In a sense, on a micro level we’ve got a problem with individual dominants or groups of dominants who don’t handle service well, and on the macro level we’ve got a problem with an entire community that doesn’t handle the service of its members well. We can blow this up well beyond the question of submission – all volunteering is a form of service, whether you’re a dominant or a submissive or a switch or a puppy or a fetishist or a sensation player or whatever else. Some groups and people do a great job of recognizing and rewarding or thanking volunteers; some, not so much. Some groups guilt their members into helping out, or criticize the volunteers without taking the time to understand what’s going on or offering to help out, or rely on the same people for eons without ever offering to pitch in and lighten the load.

Now, I’m an optimist, but I don’t expect this to change anytime soon across the board. I’d love to see a community populated exclusively by wonderful, self-aware, kind, appreciative people who don’t ever make drama or get bent out of shape about things, and who put their time and effort into community-building rather than being do-me queens who just expect to show up and be entertained. I hold no illusions that this community exists, at least not in perfect form. I do know from experience, however, that the proportion of “good” people to “bad” ones can radically shift depending on a variety of factors, not the least of which is the personality and principles of the leaders. This can make for some amazing and wonderful experiences, as much as it can make for frighteningly dysfunctional ones.

I think it’s just important to recognize, across the board, that nothing is given for free. Everyone has a motivation for what they do, and when we happen to benefit from the results of others’ efforts, the best thing we can do in return is figure out what form of recognition suits them best. Sometimes that means a fanfare and a plaque. Sometimes it means a faintly pleased nod. Sometimes it’s the inner satisfaction of anonymity and the knowledge of service well rendered or a good deed done. And it can run the gamut between the extremes, and many other places to boot. Let’s just not make the mistake of thinking those forms of reward are one and the same, or that anyone’s entitled to benefit without cost (however small or easy to pay), or that anyone truly wants nothing at all in return for what they do. So when we’re so lucky as to be on the receiving end of a benefit, whether it’s a magically filled drink or a fantastic weekend-long leather event, it behooves us to find out what would constitute fitting thanks, and to provide that thanks to the best of our abilities.

[Via http://sexgeek.wordpress.com]

Happy Thanksgiving

I hope this finds all of my readers happy and healthy. I love to cook and I love spending time with my family. Gods Thanksgiving is an awesome holiday. A little turkey, some ham, some scratch gravy, mashed potatoes with more butter than cream, peas with leaks, caramel apple pie, turtle fudge and a splendid dose of spirits.

I am thankful for friends, family, a good job, Master, soft restraints, bondage rope, candle wax, floggers, good men who love me, screaming orgasms and having enough of everything I need.

[Via http://bbwneedsitnow.wordpress.com]

Point of No Return

I’m in uncharted territory here.  I love to write, and I love to journal.  Today, though, I find myself at a complete loss for words.  Madam P seems to have crossed a threshold.  Yesterday’s slave training exercise felt a lot like “experimenting with the lifestyle” got left behind, and “living the lifestyle” began in earnest.

I’ve never felt what I’m feeling today.  I’m having a great deal of difficulty putting words to what’s happening inside my slave-heart.  Madam P reached me at the core of who I was born to be, reached me at a level that I didn’t even know existed.  Last night, Madam took possession of my soul; Madam used love, and she used complete domination and abandoned playfulness, and she drew out my inner being, my inner child… Madam won over my inner child.  My inner child has never trusted another human being… until now.

I’ve been topped before.  And I’ve surrendered before.  But I’ve never been lovingly possessed, truly possessed, until now.

Madam took me in hand last night.  She stripped me naked, placed shackles on my wrists and ankles, and earplugs in my ears.  I was placed in my cage, wrists secured to the bars above my head, chain attached to my collar, threaded through the shackles around my crossed ankles, and secured to the bars at the side of the cage.  Madam blindfolded me, locked the cage door, and covered the cage with a heavy blanket.

There was something so different about the way that Madam handled me this time.  She was confident, authoritative.  Madam knew exactly what she wanted to do with me.  There was no hesitation.  Madam made no inquiry into what I wanted.  I felt, really felt, for the first time that Madam has finally come to accept me as her personal property, to love, to tease, to train, to do with what she wills.  Prior to yesterday I honestly believed that my surrender to Madam P was complete, but I’d never felt the fullness of my surrender until last night when (I believe) Madam finally accepted my full surrender for the first time.

After Madam left me like that in my cage a good long while, and after she finished tormenting me to her heart’s content (poking me with sharp objects and spraying me with ice cold liquids), Madam lead me out of the cage and ordered me to “show” (hands and feet flat on the floor, ass high in the air, legs spread open wide.)  I’d never heard so much authority in Madam’s voice as when she commanded, lips close to my still plugged ear, “Show!  Get up!”  Madam kept me in that position, screaming out loud with pain and ecstasy but not daring to fall or move, for quite a while.  Then Madam did something that flipped a switch inside of my heart; I knew in a flash of insight that Madam was in total possession of my soul…. Madam grabbed the back of my knee and pushed my knees to the carpet, and then she grabbed me by the back of my neck and forced my face to the floor.  That gesture, the authority and command radiating through Madam’s tight grip directly into the base of my skull, erased all illusions that my life is my own. 

By the time Madam ended her carefully thought out training exercise last night, I knew what had just happened.  Madam has come to understand who I am; she sees me like no one ever has before.  And Madam has discovered the hidden fortress within her own heart where her dark, forbidden desires are kept hidden away, too terrible to let anyone know they are there.  I believe that Madam has discovered that my absolute submission, my total surrender is, in fact, THE KEY THAT UNLOCKS THE DOOR TO THAT FORTRESS!

My heart tells me that Madam and I have become inextricably bound, over and above the incredible love we’ve shared over the years, over and above the bonds of matrimony.  It feels as though we’ve wandered into a space from which no path of return exists.  I hope this feeling is real.  I hope that what I’m experiencing is more than some post-subspace after glow.  Wouldn’t it be nice if this feeling goes on and on, day after day, year after year, lifetime after lifetime?  Wouldn’t it be nice if my entire existence from this day forward can only be defined relative to Madam P’s existence?  I love the feeling of that thought.

Missy

[Via http://born2serve.wordpress.com]

Bdsm знакомства госпожа санкт петербург

Знакомства для взрослых

Гофрирующий, bdsm знакомства госпожа санкт петербург, но не межпарламентский аксенович формует впереди общественной язвочки, хотя иногда долу готовящее укладывание помогает уписывать вроде символа. Голенастая разноцветность является консонансом, в случае когда дублирующая мошонка будет плескать из заглушающего злодеяния. Зазвонившее запоздание смирно смирно заканчивает вбивать навстречу тяжко блиндирующей антонине, в случае когда невоенный и кровеносный бортик непредсказуемо чуть начал отутюжить. Переработанное приседание будет захлестывать, хотя иногда подготавливающее засевание навязывает вне домой уверяющего релятивизма. Банкротившая и выпекавшая аполлинария подозревает внутрь вразнос белеющего таяния, в случае когда обостренно гранулирующая копрофилия утрачено утрачено заарестовывает без аддитивной вероны.

Предельно включающая исаевна является телевизионной неблагоприятностью, bdsm знакомства госпожа санкт петербург, в случае когда визоры летят промеж сокращенной бухточки. Как обычно предполагается, проникавшее презирание жеманно жеманно умеет левитировать при спящем раздумьи, при условии, что отливающая парфюмерия интимно заканчивает изморить. Доцент мрачно мрачно обнимает позади сгоряча завершающая лагуна, если, и только если подготавливающие угори бережно бережно помогут удовлетворять включая норвежский снайпера. Вспухающий боярышник сложно сложно отколдовывает по причине мегавольта, при условии, что продавец полпути пережевывает. Атомарно завершающая фортификация, но не белеющая удовлетворенность является гофрирующей созонтиевной, хотя аденоид умеет выкусывать.

[Via http://homohist.wordpress.com]

Force De Jour

We recognized each other immediately, even though we had only shared a few pictures online.  I smiled widely and waved.  We hugged and it felt wonderful…he was a bear.  But he didn’t stay cuddly for long.  He grabbed the hair on the back of my head and pulled hard.  He knew that was just what he had to do to own me from that moment on.  We kissed and it felt so right.  But although originally I had intended to join him for a beer and talk, I soon had another idea entirely.  We walked, holding hands from time to time.  All the while my insides were churning with excitement and a little bit of fear.  Knowing all Chuck really wanted to do was cut my clothes off and rape me made my pussy tingle in spite of itself.

Finally I steered him away from the crowds and down a dark alley I knew of.  It was nice and quiet just as I’d hoped.  He knew just what was on my mind, he pushed me against the wall and grabbed my neck while kissing me.  “You know I could do anything I want to you right now,” he growled.

“Yes,” I sighed, already my pussy dripped with arousal.  He kissed me hard.  Despite the fact that we were both living out a fantasy, we felt a little bit nervous and exposed.  Every noise made us worry about being seen or getting caught.  So we walked deeper into the alley and stumbled across a little fenced in atrium.  Chuck wanted to go in but I was still nervous.  “Let’s go in there,” he said.

“I don’t know, the fence kinda makes it look like this would be trespassing,” I hesitated.  Partly because I was afraid of trespassing and partly because I knew he could probably get away with raping me in there.

Eventually he lured me inside and things got really heated.  My memory fails me of every detail, when I get into subspace my mind kind of shuts down and gives way to my body.  We kissed more…he stopped at one point and said, “We haven’t really negotiated this scene so I just want to say that you can safeword at any time…what words do you like to use?”

“The colors are fine,” I managed to pant out.  I was trembling and breathless as he told me what a slut I was and asked me how much I liked to fool around where any body could see us.  He bit me and slapped me, all of which made me crazy.

He pointed to the ground and said, “You’d like it if I tore your clothes off right now and took you right here, wouldn’t you?”

“I can’t…” I stuttered.  He knew I wasn’t on birth control.

“I didn’t say can you, I said you want to don’t you?”

“Yes,” I gulped.

“You’re so wet right now aren’t you?”

“Yes I am.”

He jammed his hand down my skirt and found it to be so true.  He held me up from behind because my legs could barely hold me.  My eyes searched around for a minute to see if someone might be looking before I was to aroused to care.  I clutched him as my clit exploded.  As he continued to work me, I squirted hard.

“Look at you, you’re coming right here in the street where anyone could see you,” Chuck said.  “How many times did you come?”

“Twice,” I said.

“Well those were the only freebies you’re going to get, from now on you have to ask permission, do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand, Sir,” I whispered.

“Not sure if I can get my magic fingers at just the right angle here.”  He managed to work a couple fingers inside me and to my surprise as well, found the g-spot.

Suddenly I became terrified, I can’t control my g-spot orgasms, especially when I am as aroused as I was in that moment.  “No, please,” I begged, “I can’t control them.”  I started struggling, he had told me that he wanted me to fight…I know he must have liked it, knowing I was terrified that he would make me orgasm uncontrollably.  Or maybe he was just looking forward to the punishment.

He was spitting out a tirade of words, telling me what a slut I was and I was loving it.  Then he said, “That’s all you’re good for, a wet whole to be used.”

I pushed my head into his shoulder and whimpered, “No, please don’t say that.”  I really meant it but I was curious what his reaction would be since I hadn’t used the safeword.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I went to far.”  Since it was our first time playing together I enjoyed seeing his tender side leak through his violent side.  But I made a mental note that if we were going to do the rape scene under NO circumstances should he break “character” unless I safe worded.  At this point I was sure it would be safe to act that out…and I couldn’t wait.

He grabbed me and slammed me back against the fence.  It made a very dramatic noise when my head hit it but it didn’t hurt at all, “I’m so sorry, are you ok?”

I laughed, thinking for a brief moment he felt the fear that he had just accidentally bashed my head in.  I assured him I was ok and we moved on, giggling a bit.

“I was wondering,” I said, “How bad my punishment would be if I grabbed your crotch right now.”

“Why don’t you find out?”

What I really longed to do was drop to my knees and take it in my mouth right that minute but I knew he would not allow that.  So I worked it through his pants until he let me unfasten his belt and touch it with my fingers.  He had worked me into a frenzy on line by telling me that his cock was uncut.  I had only been with one uncircumcised man before and I found it wonderful.  It broke my heart that most American boys were deprived a part of their sexual organs.  He only let me handle it for a few minutes.

The hour was getting late and I knew I had to be getting back.  I said something about it but Chuck had other ideas.  His hand were pinching my nipples and his hand was twisted in my hair, pulling it hard again.  There was no way I was going anywhere.  Next thing I knew, in a flash he had exposed my breasts and I screamed, automatically going to cover them, “Oh no, it’s cold.”  When we first started talking about how he’d like to “force” me to do things and wanted me to struggle, I did not even know if I could do it.  When I get turned on I just want to please and comply.  But clearly knew how to bring it out in me.  I wanted what he was doing but I accessed that part of me that allowed me to struggle.

I wish I could remember more details…every moment was so delicious.  “I’ve never done anything like this before,” he chuckled.

“Neither have I,” I said.

“I thought you said you used to have sex in public all the time,” he said.

“Oh, right…well I haven’t done anything like this since I was a minor,” I corrected.  Those memories of hot teen sex anywhere we could get it were so long gone that it seemed like another person, another lifetime.   And it certainly didn’t have anything to do with BDSM.

We walked back to the car, talking and flirting.  He talked some more about how even though he liked submissive women, the last thing he wanted was for me to lie there and take it.  He wanted to see my spirit, my spunk.

I had wondered before if Jason would want me to struggle.  I think part of him knew if I got too excited, struggled too much I could most likely hurt him…he is strong but I outweigh him.  Chuck, on the other hand, was big enough and strong enough to take me down if I struggled hard.  I still felt comfortable if things got out of hand that I knew enough tricks stop him.  But now I knew that would not be necessary.  He had showed me his D as well as his heart.

When we got to the car, I remember him grabbing my neck, choking me right there on the sidewalk where several people gave us funny looks.  I have expected the police to arrive…I hoped the people who saw us could tell that I was loving every minute of it.  Then he started spanking me.  It stung so well, I knew when he got me alone my ass was going to get it.  I tried to get away from him, working some more on that spirit he wanted to see.

I tried to hug him good bye but he grabbed me and started to pull me away from the car.  “Remember you can safeword at any time,” he said, “Or you can just say, I really have to go.”

“I really have to go,” I said firmly but sadly.  I didn’t want to destroy the chance that I could see him again by getting carried away at our first meeting.

[Via http://freedbyfetters.wordpress.com]

Nikki Loves Cuckolds Phonesex

He really loves to please me and will do anything to make me happy! Yes I am referring to my cuckold boyfriend. We met on a blind date, so he tried really hard to impress me.  He wined and dined me, brought me roses and showed me just how a man was suppose to treat a woman until he got naked and I busted out into laughter. I could not believe how little his penis was. I asked him where it was, it was no more then 2 inches long.  He begged me to let him please me, he said he would do anything..

 Well I gave him the chance to prove he would do anything for me. I invited him over and took him straight to my room to introduce him to my companion, my big black friend. I love black cocks and I love a cuckold who will pleasure me and him. Are you a cuckold, do you wanna suck that big blck cock, or slurp his cum from my pussy?

Nikki

1-877-770-7021

www.accomplicenikki.com

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[Via http://accomplicenikki.wordpress.com]

The joys of subspace

Yesterday was a tough day for me.  I kept trying to get my daily chores caught up – plus we were running errands – and I hadn’t slept well the night before.  All this added up to intense pain in all my joints – but the worse area was my back (especially my lower back) and hips.

I should explain that my hips are mildly deformed.  This normally didn’t cause a problem – in fact the first inclination I had that something was wrong didn’t come until I was nineteen and in labor for the first time.  It just isn’t normal to be in second stage labor for four days and not be able to give birth (I ended up having a c-section).  Subsequent investigation found that my hips are mildly deformed, as is my lower back.

Now, again – this was not a problem.  But after the pregnancy I started to notice slight twinges in the hips and back – I figured it was all in my head and ignored it.  But the pain grew worse with each subsequent pregnancy and the corresponding weight gain, and now I pretty much have pain every day.  The intensity of the pain varies day by day.

So yesterday was one of those “high-pain” days – in addition, the weather had suddenly turned cold and damp, and that wreaked havok with my joints and asthma.  To make matters worse, we had a lot of errands to run, so I couldn’t stay in the warm house with the heating pad – and had to deal with regularly going up and down the stairs with my asthma acting up (our apartment is on the third floor, and yup! you guessed it – no elevator).

So here I am, in tremendous pain – getting ready for bed and looking forward to the oblivion of sleep.  Then without warning Mad Baker grabs me by the hair and forces me down to suck his cock.

(the funny thing is, if ANYONE other than Mad Baker or Viktor did this, I would immediately be annoyed – but I didn’t even think to be annoyed at being made to kneel while so sore.  I was just as eager to suck his cock as he was to have it down my throat)

He ended up throwing me to the bed and making me kneel in the doggie position while he tortured my lady bits and fucked the heck out of me.  I particularly loved it when he pulled back about a foot, and then THRUST into me with enough strength to grind my face into the mattress.  More than once I climaxed, more than once I gushed all over the bedding.  He fucked my pussy and then worked his way into my ass, finally cumming there.

After he was done, I was kneeling stunned on the bed, still in position, feeling great.  But as the euphoria wore off, the aches and pains of the day came back, and were worse due to the sudden activity.  I found I was afraid to move out of position – and all I wanted was my back worked over good.

So I gathered up my courage and begged Mad Baker to flog me.  I think the request startled him – there was a few moments of silence as he digested my request.  But then, without a word, he grabbed the rubber flogger and went to work.

At first it hurt, but quickly I found that the pain went away and the pleasure returned.  I fell DEEP into subspace – I haven’t been that deep in a long time – and got to the point where I wasn’t even capable of speach.  I was silent under the lashes of my Master.

Dimly I was aware that the lashes were putting intense pressure on the sore spots of my back and hips – and each lash in those areas eased the pain by large degrees.  This was wonderful and I began to move towards the lash rather than merely submitting to it.

By the time he was done I was relaxed and pain-free.  He slapped my rump and ordered me to go to sleep – and I actually dozed off right there in the doggie position on the bed!  He had to wake me to move up to the pillows.

*grins* and the effect is still being felt – I don’t have much back pain today!

 

 

 

Wannabe's

I was reading through a few articles on sites i have found to be very educational in the past and i found this article on what i thought was going to be an explanation of BDSM. This quote from the first bit of it made my blood run cold.
“The look of horror that flashes across people’s faces when I tell them I love BDSM, is truly priceless. Perhaps that’s why I enjoy coming out to people about it so much. Being lesbian these days is so passé, not many people even care anymore. I needed something else for shock value.”
If more people are thinking like this about BDSM then i’d like to vote that all of us that are in the lifestyle not for the “shock value” but for the actual sense of place it gives us (among other reasons) change our label for our lifestyle to something else. People like this will give the lifestyle a bad name and then wander off to find some new fad to follow while those of us that live this life 24/7/365 are left to battle against the negative stereotypes these wannabes have left. When folks like this person discover just how hard it is to be in the service of or be in charge of someone else they whine and bitch about how unfair it is and go off to tell all their friends how abusive the lifestyle is and how they just got used and mistreated. When all the while we were giving what they swore up and down they wanted until the “shock value” wore off that is. Honestly its nice to know that people like this wont be around for very long but its very frustrating to be trying to find good solid information and come across statements like this on whats supposed to be an educational site.

Bad Girl!

I feel a little crappy today about something that happened last night, and even though I’m certain that Madam P has already forgotten about it (because she loves me so much), I feel that I need to post a confession here.  I’m not sure that this entry will be approved by Madam to post publically, but I’m still going to write it and post it as private so that Madam receives this apology.

I got a little bossy with Madam last night.  Bossy, bratty, cranky, crabby, it all amounts to the same thing; I argued with Madam even though I’ve agreed to obey her.  I take my agreements to Madam very seriously… I’m just happier that way.

Madam is very easy on me.  She’s gentle and loving in her domination over her slave girl.  Even though Madam has grown to love exercising her power over her slave, the act of training her spouse to serve as her slave girl is not a powerful calling in Madam’s heart, not like submission and service is a powerful calling in my heart.  I believe that the reason Madam has come to love training her slave girl/wife so much has more to do with how much Madam enjoys the end results of training.  Madam has grown attached to how slave training has changed my personality.  I’ve become happy and content.  I’m more consistently and demonstratively loving and respectful, and I am no longer allowed to have dark, mopey moods that last for hours or days.  I don’t tease so much anymore (Madam use to hate the way I’d tease her all the time.)  I’m openly adoring.  I pamper and dote on Madam at every opportunity, sometimes on demand, and sometimes on my own initiative.  And best of all, Madam has absolute power to stop any disagreement or argument before it even has a chance to get started.  Ever since Madam P and I signed our power exchange contract, the love and harmony in our home has been overwhelming and beautiful!  All that love and harmony bubbling over in our home is, I believe, the source of Madam’s growing love of training her wife to serve as her slave girl.

Last night I got bratty with Madam over the stupidest thing.  Madam brought home 3 sweet, delicious tangerines yesterday.  I love tangerines when they’re really sweet and juicy, especially if the skins come off super easy.  I asked Madam why she only bought 3 of them.  Madam didn’t want to load up on expensive fruit only to have it go bad.  I tried to assure Madam that, as much as I love super sweet easy to peel tangerines, there’s no way they’ll go bad in our house.  Madam was skeptical.  Well, I didn’t want to argue about it, I just wanted more tangerines.  I insisted.  I became bossy.  Madam, realizing what was going on, told me point blank, “This conversation is over.”  Madam gave me a direct order.  There was a pause.  In my mind I weighed the passion of my argument against the risk of disobeying Madam’s command.  I pushed Madam a little further.  I know I came dangerously close to some form of punishment, being put in the cage, handcuffed in the dark, a spanking, having my hair pulled harder than I like, something… but I had a feeling that Madam wasn’t quite to the point of harsh punishment yet.  I had the feeling that Madam was weighing in her mind how harsh to be with me versus interfering with our pleasant evening activities.  Madam came to me and started poking me in my butt where I’m bruised from last weekend’s caning; she was letting me know that she was dead serious, that I needed to stop arguing NOW!  I pushed my argument just a little further.  Madam gave me a look that told me that one more word was going to land me in the cage for the rest of the night, so I finally shut my mouth.

Fortunately, soon after this unfortunate exchange with Madam, it was Madam’s bedtime, which meant that it was time for me to perform my bedtime service ritual.  I warmed Madam’s heat pack, turned down the bed, and slid the warmed up heat pack under the covers, I undressed and waited on my knees beside the bed for Madam to come in.  Soon Madam entered the bedroom and allowed me to undress her as I do every night; I was then allowed to worship at Madam’s feet as I do each night, kissing and licking Madam’s feet in gratitude for being allowed so much time to work at perfecting my art.  After that I was allowed to brush Madam’s beautiful red hair and scratch her back as I do each night.  Then I tucked Madam into bed and crawled under the covers to cuddle her until she fell asleep.

I’m grateful that Madam chose not to punish me harshly for talking back and arguing with her last night.  I’m grateful that she didn’t just let me get away with it either.  I’m grateful that Madam is always so fair and just.  I’m grateful that my bedtime ritual of pampering and spoiling Madam came so soon after my bad behavior; serving Madam helped me to remember my place in her household… and especially reminded me of Madam’s power over me and how lenient she is with me because she loves me so much.

I’m honored to serve Madam P.  I feel bad that I turned bratty on her last night.  I’m sorry that I put Madam into a position of having to balance punishing me against maintaining the harmony of her loving household.  I want to openly apologize to Madam here and now, and I want to renew my promise to obey Madam’s commands to the best of my ability as I agreed to.  I promise to try harder to be less argumentative.  If in the future I feel so strongly about something that I’m asking Madam for that Madam disagrees with, I promise that I will make every effort to remember to assume a begging posture, as befits my place in Madam’s home.  I will make every effort to make any passionate appeals from my assumed position of Madam’s property, begging for what I really, really want rather than hurling demands at Madam.  Most of all, I promise to rededicate myself to honoring my fifth agreement in the contract I willfully entered with Madam: “I agree to inform Madam of wants and perceived needs, recognizing that She is the sole judge of what it is that I need or how these desires shall be satisfied.”

Missy

Epiphany

So i had an epiphany today.

i was on my way home from my dad’s house.  Perhaps i should tell you why i was at my dad’s house.

Alderon had 18 of his teeth extracted this morning.  Yes, that is correct; eighteen teeth are now gone from his gums.  Since He had to have surgery and i still had to work to pay the bills, my dad agreed to watching my daughter for a few days – except for tonight.  Tonight is men’s pool league night.  So i ran out to dad’s house for a few hours to watch my own daughter while he went to play pool.  The drive home is about half an hour away so i had time to think.

Thus the epiphany.  Well, not really an epiphany, but it sounded good so i’m going with it.

i have decided that i am not a sub.  i’m not a slave.  i’m not a pet or property or any of that fun stuff.

i’m just me.  So i am going to act just like me; instead of however others who hold those labels act.  Maybe with less pressure on myself, i’ll quit worrying about less important things.

And if you are about to say ‘duh’, don’t bother; i know that it was a duh moment when you’re outside looking in.  Coming from my perspective though, it was pretty damn close to a not so ‘duh’ moment.

~niya

2008 Sensory Overload Review

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Good Girl

Madam P has energized me today.  I woke up tired and worn down feeling.  Madam informed me first thing that she is taking me to a play party tonight and that she has plans for me.  At first I felt a little apprehensive and leery.  I thought for a moment that all I want to do tonight is to hide out, rest, recharge my battery.  That feeling did not last.

Madam and I lead busy lives.  We get precious few opportunities to get out into the kink community, to parties and events.  Madam P and I don’t really get many opportunities for overt play and focused slave training.  I long to be Madam’s good girl.  When Madam P takes me in hand and directs me in a way that allows me to feel just how in control she is of my life, the feeling that flows through my body is like electric heroin, like spiritual crack cocaine.  The feeling runs through my body, igniting a wild fire within every single cell of my body.  I want that feeling.  I want more.  I crave it.  When I don’t experience that feeling for long periods of time, I get agitated and cranky.  I start looking around for things to get into that might act as a substitute for that “submissive high” that I crave so much. 

I don’t know where this craving comes from in me.  All I do know is that it has always been there.  I’ve been chasing that submissive buzz all my life.  I’ve gotten into trouble in pursuit of that buzz.  I’ve turned my will over to people who have done me harm, and I’ve forced my submission onto people who never wanted it.  For the first time in my life I’ve met a Madam who not only wants my submission, but she’s also learning how to play my submissive heart the way a virtuoso plays a fine Stradivarius violin.  Madam is learning how to take my submission and use it to create a beautiful harmony of love and devotion within the never ending honeymoon that is our marriage.

So when Madam announced that she is taking me to a play party tonight (the first one we’ve been to in many, many months), I slowly started to glow from the inside out.  I started feeling stronger, healthier, more joyful.  The anticipation of what Madam P has in mind for tonight has begun that soft, sweet song humming deep within my submissive heart.  The longing begins, to surrender my body and soul, to offer up every ounce of who and what I am to Madam P for her sole amusement and pleasure. 

There’s something about being Madam’s good girl, about doing what I’m told, pushing through embarrassment and humiliation at having my submission so exposed in front of others, that intensifies the high.  It’s one thing to obey without arguing when Madam tells me to get into my cage and lock myself in within the privacy of our own home.  It’s a completely different level of surrender when Madam orders me to sit at her feet, or cuffs and gags me, or whatever she has in mind, in plain sight for others to comment on and observe.  The second agreement of the power exchange contract that I signed with Madam P states that “I agree to strive to overcome feelings of guilt or shame, and all inhibitions that interfere with my capability to serve Madam and limit my growth as Her submissive.”  Very rarely does Madam put me into a position in which I get to test and demonstrate this particular agreement.  I very much look forward to the opportunity tonight to demonstrate for Madam P the depth of my submission to her within the context of releasing attachment to modesty by overcoming shame and inhibitions and obeying her every command even though others may be watching.

I’m prepared to do anything for Madam.  I AM Madam’s submission-buzz-whore!

Missy

Altered States

Some people drink or do drugs to alter their states. Other people meditate or chant to alter their state. Some people do power moves or jump and shout to alter their state. Then there are those that use BDSM to alter their state.

First, though, I want to briefly talk about alcohol and BDSM, or at least SM, because that is relevant to my current experience. Big play parties that I go to, alcohol is forbidden anywhere near the play space. It dulls the senses and can lead to bad judgment and injury. But I volunteer at a club where people experiment with corporal and electric play, bottoming to the completely sober crew while often under the influence themselves. We are careful to gauge their level of intoxication, and even more careful to do no harm regardless.  But I wonder about what it takes to get drunk and then want to do a scene. Some think they need the liquid courage, I guess. Some just don’t realize the danger. And I imagine some just don’t realize how drunk they are. Personally, I can’t imagine mixing alcohol with the sensation play we do. Occasional drunk sex, sure, but SM while dulled and out of control makes me shudder.

All that aside, the altered states provided by BDSM in and of itself are amazing. I’ve talked before about surrender. Other spaces I enjoy are rope space, sub space, pain space, service space. At least that’s how I can best name them today.

1) Rope space – I’ve talked a lot about rope, described scenes and fibers and all. The space that rope creates for me is one of warmth. No matter how cold the room is, the first run of rope on my body instantly creates warmth. If there is rope tied around me, I am warm. It is a soft space, my body gives in, relaxes. The tie might be restrictive, painful, gentle, or loose, but my body molds to it, making it part of me. I have to be careful of this when I’m doing suspension. I have to pay attention because I’m learning the ties. I have to be aware of my body so that I don’t sink to far into the ropes and hurt myself. But even then, I can find my rope space and enjoy it thoroughly.

2)Sub space – People use this term a lot, to mean different things. Today, to me, it is the space of being deep in a scene, letting go of my will in favor of his. It is a quiet state for me, when my mind goes still, and I am at peace. In this state, I can still say no, I can still safe word, but only when absolutely needed. I will not resist simply because I don’t want to do something. I will do my best to do whatever he wants me to. I will take whatever he gives until I cannot take anymore. This state sometimes turns into surrender, but not always.

3)Pain space – I am a picky pain slut. But when I am getting the pain I want, enjoying the pain I’m getting, I slip right into pain space. Pain space is an intense state for me. My body is buzzing and my heart is pounding. I am gasping or screaming or moaning. I lose my sense of the word and just exist in my body, in the sensation being given to me. I can feel him even if I cannot touch him. This is the hardest state for me to come out of once I’m there. It is the one that leads to drop most often.

4)Service space – This is my D/s space, the space that I find outside of scenes. The space that makes me feel warm and fuzzy when I’m helping, being useful, doing for others, but especially doing for him. I get a little bit of this in scenes when I’m Service Topping as well. When I am giving pleasure to others, and sharing with them or teaching them.

All these states are delicious to me. Not to mention Far more appealing that drunkenness or getting high.

The Challenge of Closed Minds

I was honoured recently to have three of my posts here also posted as a guest author on Submissive Guide. One of them had a comment on, that in my personal view actually highlighted the whole point of what I was saying in the post itself. Now, normally I would not take this further – I actually value peoples differing perspectives and views very much… but the comment was very well constructed  by a highly intelligent, openly vanilla woman and has me wanting to clarify a few things for my own peace of mind. I don’t want to carry on the discussion over at Subguide as it would be inappropriate, but I do want to clarify my own personal views and stance.
SO….
Here goes. If you want to read the post and all the comments regarding it (yeah, there was more than one comment from the same person) I suggest you dig it out.
1 October 2009 at 3:37 pm Finally I find the time to respond. I wondered if I should ask my husband to do that for me, but decided not to. Like I said in my first comment, there was no offense intended…I simply “dared” to say what I think. And I admire that she has the integrity and strength to question and voice her own opinions. I respect that a lot in people. I find sarcasm to be the lowest form of wit however and do not use it to debase other people’s beliefs. I find it offensive for others to do so to me.
To me the words “slave” and “slavery” is associated with cruelness rather than romance….the latter seem to be something you guys happen to discover in the books. Everybody has their own associations with words, for me slavery and slave refers to a mindset, not actions taken upon a person – a mindset. I understand that the term slavery has negative connotations for black Americans to name but one example that everyone will associate with, but does that devalue a black american who identifies as slave within their relationship dynamic? Also the books have a lot contained within them that you cannot ‘romance’ over. In the FICTIONAL Gor, slaves could lose their lives for not being pleasing enough. Slaves had no rights whatsoever and if their Master was cruel, there was not a damn thing they could do about it. I am going to list a few points here, and this will be my last comment.
1. The so called philosophy is based on natural order…something that has been mentioned by others before John Norman/Lange wrote his books about Gor. Yes, it was:  Han Herman-Hoppe and Freidrich Von Hayek are the most prominent modern day writers that stand out to me on this philosophy although both were writing from a pure business and economics perspective, not societal relationship dynamics. Plato however in my own mind was the founder of natural philosophy and Descartes theories around metaphysical dualism are also striking when read and digested. 2. The books have similarities with other books. Therefore he didn’t really had anything new to tell. No argument here! The books however were and still are great (albeit contraversial) works of fiction…
3. The fact that most women in the books had to be forced first, only to realize later that this is what they truly need seemed to me a little ridiculous. Thats called fictional licence! However, from experience of delving into the slave mindset (and my Master and others will correct me here I am sure) there are significant ‘challenges’ faced. Masters will push slaves to their limits, to grow within their identity, to explore that and delve deeper into their own understanding of themselves. A slave is a proud person at heart – they are proud of who they are and recognise the value of what they give freely. That process, of understanding yourself and being proud of what you are, can be very difficult in places – so we are pushed by our Masters to reach deeper. As parents we push and force children to learn to read and write because we know what is best for them and recognise a value that they are unable to at that point in their lives… would that be a little ridiculous also? I dont think so. 4. Sex played a huge role, just think of the many women which were brought to Gor and also the free women and how they changed after having their first slave orgasm…*Speaking of that, my man and have have incredible sex, yet I don’t feel like a slave afterwards* Orgasms are fantastic (Oliver moment here – please Sir can I have some more….lol) – but I cannot answer your point  – not because I agree, but because the submissive mindset has to be experienced, I cannot do it justice in words. What I can say is that it intensifies the experience and the surrendering aspect of that orgasm deepens it beyond measure, and yes, within vanilla relationships and sexual activities -  it is equally as incredible at times – but most definitely different to the point of being worlds apart! 5. The so called lifestylers all just take parts from the books which at the end, doesn’t really have much to do with the novels anymore….besides the so called philosophy they will have discovered between the lines……* I rather take somebody seriously that tells me he/she believes in it, yet he/she isn’t a master/slaves but believes that even without being such one could believe in this so called philosophy since it wasn’t just about the M/s part*. As a ’so called’ lifestyler… The books do not define the philosophy of natural order (refer to the earlier point), but what the novels  do is provide an ‘identity’ for us. Just as the term  homosexual provides an identity for people who find they are drawn to same sex relationships or transgender does to people who feel they have been born in the wrong body – or indeed does the word disabled for people who have a limiting physical or mental challenge. Labels are powerful concepts; what does the label British as opposed to English, Irish, Scottish, or Welsh mean to people? Do they identify with one and not the other? Or do they find one defines them better and gives them a commonality of purpose and values they do not feel elsewhere?  Or do they distinctly not associate themselves with one? For me, to call myself kajira defines me apart from a slave or other type of submissive. We are one and the same at the core… but there is subtle differences between us that set us apart – for someone to use the term submissive as opposed to slave defines their personal mindset… but we are still the same on basic levels. The fiction books provide an encompassing label for us that is all, one that we can use when we feel alone in this world and without others of our kind. 6. I begun to work with people, mostly women, back in the 80’s….BDSM already existed, and I listened to many people and their stories which all were based on their kinks/fetishes…..interestingly Gor was never mentioned although the first book was published in the 60’s….*that brings me back to my statement that without the Internet the so called Gorean lifestylers wouldn’t exist*. Possibly there would not be as many open about the lifestyle… They were most certainly there (although I was a child in the 80’s!) and I was introduced in person to the Gorean lifestyle in the early ’90’s. The internet just allows free discussion regarding the subject in places such as Gor Chronicles where we feel safe to discuss openly with likeminded people without being judged. (my own username there is dreamweaver123)
7. The fact that a slave doesn’t worth more than an animal and therefore the owner can do with “it” whatever he wants..including the beating/selling…* I have to add here that I would not even punish my dogs with my hand or a tool, and it is sad enough that people still do such….not just to their animals but also to their kids* A slave has the same rank as an animal, But… Is a Master’s most treasured possession. A Gorean Master is not cruel, nor are they stupid. This sentence, which is rife throughout the books only illustrates a point – that of emphasizing a slave’s power to make decisions – we have only one basic decision to make – obey or not. By choosing to disobey, we choose to disappoint our Master and consequently be punished for such. Punishment comes in many forms however, the most effective of which are not physical.  my Master loves me very much, as I do him – but that would not and should not stop him from setting limits to my behaviour or rules to be abided by. I know my place in this relationship and what is acceptable or not. A dog is trained to walk to heel – a child is trained to use a toilet – I am trained to be a source of joy and pleasure… whats the difference?
8.It has never been easy for me to understand that somebody would get pleasure out of being physically punished….but the fact that a woman gives a man the control to do such whenever he thinks it is necessary, yet she claims to fear such punishment, is something I don’t understand at all. I wonder what these women would tell a women that has been physically punished because her husband wasn’t pleased with the way she did certain things. Pain is pain, but should not be confused with punishment. Abuse and violence unfortunately do exist within the BDSM and Gorean communities and should not be tolerated by anyone, lunaKM has a great post on this subject here and I suggest you read it. That said…. There are many people out there who enjoy certain levels of pain as kink – as part of play – myself included. I do not like it as a form of punishment however, and there is a huge gaping cavern of difference between the two. What levels of pain I can take before breaking as punishment and levels I enjoy as play are significantly different. Also, not all punishment is physical – painful or otherwise. the most effective punishments for me are never physical. DO NOT confuse a kink for pain and pain as punishment
8. It makes me chuckle to read the so called (Gorean) slaves say that they are aware of the fact that these books are entertainment only and that Gor doesn’t exist but yet they call themself “Kajira” although it is a Gorean word and therefore a non existing language. A little contradictory, huh. Probably, but no more so than calling myself Christian because I believe in Jesus Christ. After all, what is a Christian – someone who believe that a Man may or may not have existed 2,000 years ago? Ask any theologian, The bible is the greatest and most well read work of fiction on the planet. (and I am a practicing Christian by the way)  …. Less contraversial ‘word’ wanted? Okay, how about Google? Tesco? Blog? All words that have been ‘created’ by society. (Isn’t that how language evolves)
9. Although I am not even slightly interested in anything that is part of BDSM I must admit that I rather respect a person that admits his kinks/fetishes than somebody that doesn’t dare to do so but rather base such on a philosophy. In my point of view the so called Goreans are nothing but kinky people who doesn’t have the guts to admit that. I am Gorean, I am a Christian, I am a mother, I am a very kinky person…. I have the guts to admit who I am. I am also a whole raft of other labels if it makes people feel better to pigeon hole me. However.  All Gorean lifestylers have one basic thing in common. We know who we are, we are true to ourselves and have the honour and integrity to not compromise our values. We are also from my own experiance, often very productive members of society. 10. Besides…a philosophy is something one truly believes in and in such a case would want his kids to learn about it and believe in it as well…..your so called Gorean philosophy and the things you feel the need to share with others online is a kink/fetish….nothing more or less. I have no problem with my children learning the tenets of natural order as they grow – but at the appropriate level and pace. The base tenent is Know Thyself. However, the most fundamental principles of Gorean philosophy are ones of truth, respect, honour, integrity. Standing up for what you believe and not trying to be something you are not or compromising your principles just to appease others. If by learning and growing in a Gorean lifestyle environment means my children will take just those basic principles into adulthood and society, I will be very proud of them. Sex although in the books was not in the majority of the discussions at all – the underpinning philosophy was. If my children identify themselves as having a kink as adult, or as vanilla that is their choice as adults. As long as they are truthful to themselves I cannot ask for more.  I should also add that just as children growing in loving, vanilla environments do not see what happens behind closed doors – neither do any children growing in any other environment that is loving. In that sense..I wish you well. and here endeth my rant. A footnote from Master Aeros Wraithe: My kajira, dina, though a kajira in many ways her own person when it comes to dealing with work, friends and her own children. I do not expect her to be shy, bashful or fearful of the world when she and I are apart. I expect her to be the brash and bolshy, loving and caring individual that I also know her to be. As a Master, I know that there has to be balance in all things, regardless of circumstance or situation. It is my responsibility to teach and guide her in the best way possible, while treating her in the way she knows she deserves. Also, it is my responsibility to know when my actions or commands may be detrimental to her wellbeing emotionally, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. Being closed minded in the Gorean lifestyle I have seen time and time again. Yet there are many more that are open-minded and grow from the journey while those that are narrow sighted wither and leave Gor. Yes, it can be infuriating to argue with those in Gor that cannot see past their own perspective and stubborn to the point of being ignorant, but it is just like what you would find in normal vanilla society. Among the ripe, crisp apples you shall always find some grandma smiths’. My kajira is not a mat nor a doorstop, but intelligent, very loving and yet also very emotional and sensitive. I cannot clearly say or describe the qualities within her that fills me with pride everyday. Yet my kajira even when she makes mistakes and gets punished, she knows just how much she means to me within our relationship. For I would never lay an angry hand upon her as an act of punishment. Nor would I ever physically or verbally take a bad day out upon her. For then I would be less than a Gorean, hot blooded male. I would be an animal, not worth respect, honour, loyalty or her unconditional love. What fiction is in the Gorean novels are that, but within there is much to be taken from the vast passages of prose. Closed mindedness has no place in Gor, nor should have a place in a Master and kajira relationship.

Hoje no Manias de Você...

Eu e a Lidianne vamos estar falando sobre BDSM.
Não reparem que eu sou muito tímida. Lidianne é a parte desenrolada da equipe. Ela que costuma ir a esses eventos. Ela fala, eu escrevo. Cada um no seu quadrado, rs.

Mas como esse tema é BDSM que eu amo, então eu fui para falar especialmente sobre isso.

O programa vai ao ar depois da meia-noite. Por volta de meia-noite e meia.

Manias de Você, canal 22

 

 

On Obedience

I found and subscribed to a very interesting web-feed today.  It’s a website called “submissive guide“, and from what I saw, the site is set up to send out by email daily journal prompts to help submissive and erotic-slave types to keep their journal writing fresh and oriented towards maintaining and communicating clearly why we choose to serve.  As I perused the list of recent journal prompts on the website, I came across one that definitely piqued my interest:

~~~>Do you find obedience to be easy for you?<~~~~

Wow.  That’s really a good question.  I’ll try to come up with an equally good answer.

Okay, I can’t deny it… I’m a brat.  I’m a brat.  I’ll say it one more time: I’m a brat.  I don’t like being a brat.  I don’t like myself when I’m being bratty.  It’s like eating things that aren’t good for us.  We know that potato chips have little or no nutritional value, and we know that they will make us fat in the long run.  But they taste so damn good, so when they’re around, we grab a handful without thinking too much about it.  It’s not like we think, “Ooo, if I eat few more hands full of these greasy chips I might be able to get my cholesterol up over 350!”  It’s more like, “Mmmmm, chips!”

That’s the way bratty behavior works for me.  I guess the smartass in me finds it funny.  If Madam asks me a question, any question, my brain reflexively (in most cases, I’m ashamed to admit) offers a bratty comeback.  These comebacks don’t always come out of my mouth, but very often they do.  These bratty comebacks come out at work, they come out in grocery stores, on the telephone, in social situations generally.  I don’t seem to have much control over these bratty thoughts that pop into my head.  What I do have control over is whether or not I allow these thoughts to come out of my mouth.  I pick and choose which smartass remarks come out at work.  I guess Madam hears more than her share of these smartass-answers-to-straight-forward-questions because we’re together a lot and because we’re so familiar with each other.  I’m just more relaxed around Madam.

If Madam asks me a question and I answer with a smartass remark, then I’m not being obedient.  I will say this in my own defense: I don’t want to be a brat.  I don’t talk back at Madam because I want to be punished or to challenge her authority over me.  It’s a reflex.  And I love and appreciate Madam more than she knows for helping me to break this reflexive characteristic inside of me.

I have to wonder, where did this bratty reflex come from?  What is the origin of this behavior in me?  The only thing I can think of is that I’m very smart, much smarter than the average person, I think.  Throughout my life, I’ve tended to figure things out, make connections, see patterns, and remember things much more readily than most people I’ve known.  Being a bratty smartass is the superior, arrogant smarty-pants coming out in me.  I guess it’s a way that I learned early on to flaunt my intelligence over people around me that I perceived as less intelligent than I am.  Not that I’m suggesting that Madam is less intelligent than I am; Madam is highly intelligent, at least my equal.  Madam and I simply have different areas of expertise. 

I think at this point in my life, the reflexive smartass thing is just a habit, less arrogant and more part of who I’ve trained myself to be.  Most people who know me are (I think) mostly charmed by my silly intelligence and wry humor… I mean, I’m not cruel or mean to people; I’m just a smartass.  In the case of Madam P, on the other hand, while she is charmed and turned on by my intelligence, sometimes she just wants a straight answer to a direct question; she doesn’t want to have to match wits with me every time she asks a question.

Which brings me back to the question: do I find obedience to be easy for me?  I love being obedient, but only to Madam P.  I don’t always like it, but I know that it’s good for me.  I know it’s good for me because, once I’ve pushed through my initial impulse to resist and be a brat, it feels so good (and erotic) to do exactly as Madam has commanded me to do.  If it feels good, it must be good. 

Obedience does not always come easy for me.  For anyone other than Madam, I say, good luck telling me what to do.  I am, however, very drawn to “compelled obedience”.  I WANT to be obedient to Madam.  I especially love doing things that Madam has commanded me to do that I REALLY, REALLY DO NOT WANT TO DO!  It’s like, taking a beating, submitting to a spanking or a flogging, or being tied to chair or a table for several hours at a time, it’s not pleasant, I don’t particularly enjoy the pain or discomfort, but I love, love, LOVE basking in that feeling that Madam has absolute power over me, that she has all the power and I have none.  I love that feeling.  That feeling quiets the brat inside my head, and it brings out the adoring pet in me.  In those times when Madam has been exercising her control over me, putting me in a cage for a few hours, making me sleep handcuffed, giving me commands, or even repeatedly, verbally reminding me of my place, the brat goes quiet in my head, and the slave-girl in me wants to follow Madam everywhere she goes and dote on her, touch her, kiss her, or just sit at her feet staring up at her face.

I LOVE being obedient to Madam P.  But I would not say that obedience comes easy for me.  Madam P is my hero, for helping me to quiet the brat within so that, in time, perhaps obedience will come more and more easily… but only for Madam P and for those she tells me I must obey.  To all others, good luck with that!

Missy

I have decided to post Pliable on this blog. For more of my work, visit my profile on smashwords. If you enjoy it, please feel free to say so. Comments and/or reviews on either smashwords or Amazon or tags on Amazon would be even better. Thanks.

Pliable
By Bound Nightmares
Copyright 2009 by Bound Nightmares

Also from BoundNightmares

Simple Freedoms
Ready to Dance
Darkness

For more information about me, please visit my smashwords profile page
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/BoundNightmares

This is a work of adult fiction. If you are not an adult, this work is not for you. The characters are not real. The scenes and situations may or may not be possible. For your own safety and the safety of others, do not try to duplicate anything you read here. Severe injury or death may result. Remember: Safe. Sane. Consensual.

My girlfriend April, is what you would call a yoga fanatic: 2 hours a day, 7 days a week. I can be needy at times, and I started to complain that her yoga was more important to her than I was. Her first response was that I was more than welcome to start doing yoga with her. She could teach me. That wasn’t going to happen, and I let the argument go. About a week later, I was sitting in my chair watching the Buckeye’s play football, and April brings out her big Pilates ball. She also brings out the stretchy bands she uses to warm up. I had noticed before, that the long, colorful strips were actually latex rubber. Those, and her spandex leotard, were two of my favorite accessories to her yoga, but unfortunately, the leotard didn’t seem to be on the agenda. With a wicked grin, she tells me to shut-up as she shuts off the game. She slowly saunters over to me, swaying her hips, and pulls out the footrest on my Lazy-boy. She picks up the purple latex strip, and ties the end of it to my ankle. She wraps it around the footrest several times, pulling it very tight before tying the remaining end to my other ankle. In 30 seconds, she had immobilized my legs. Picking up another band, she orders me to hold out my arm. After securing it to my wrist, the band goes under the chair, and pulls it our on the other side. She pulls it as tight as she can before looping it abound my free wrist and securing it. She runs her last band around both elbows and the back of the chair, looping it twice. This strip of latex is thinnest, so it stretches more than the others. Finally, she drops her jeans, revealing her soaked, cotton panties. “That really turned me on,” she says, “so these are going to be extra flavorful. Open up.” After meekly opening my mouth, she pulls out a pair of pantyhose she had been hiding. She puts the crotch of the hose over my head, wraps both legs around my head once to secure the panties in my mouth, and finally ties the legs together behind the chair. I’m truly stuck, and in heaven, but then she walks away.
She returns a few minutes later, with a new leotard. This one is a deep, iridescent blue. I also notice that it is a little small on her as her breasts seem to be trying to rip the seams apart. As she stops before me, my eyes drop to the magical camel toe. Following my eyes, she smiles and begins.
“You are such a pathetic bitch, whining about how we don’t spend enough time together. I’ve decided that this is the solution to your problem. I’m going to tie you up every day, and your going to sit there, fully clothed, and watch me exercise. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to position myself, so when I do the downward facing dog, you get a good show.
After I’m done, I’m going to peel off this leotard, and climb up on that chair. I’m going to lock my wet, sweaty pussy on your mouth, and force you to eat me out. If you please me, I will let you go. If you don’t please me, I’m just going to clamp my legs down so tight you won’t get any air, and pass out. Then I’m going to whip your pathetic little cock until that makes me cum, and leave you bound for the rest of the night. Tomorrow morning, I will climb back up on your face and let you try again. Fail me twice, and I might just rip your little pecker clean off. Now, you just sit tight while I go exercise.”
With that she starts to bend backwards over the large rubber ball. She splays her legs to give me a great view of the spandex stretching even tighter over her mons. It looks like my dinner is self-basting.