Letter To My Submissive...

My dear subbie,

Mistress enjoyed your e-mail of Wednesday (Hump Day).  It’s always so fun to find a note from you and read what is going on in dear subbie’s life. Yes, your e-mails still bring a smile to this Mistress’ lips when she reads the directions of dear subbie’s thoughts.

Mistress has had one of those unfortunate life-happening weeks.  Two deaths in one week can really bring things down, but a necessary part of life.  Both deaths were of dear women that have been in my life, one much more than the other…

The first death was of a dear woman that was the mother of my youngest brother’s best friend.  She died quietly in her sleep on Sunday into Monday.  A blessing if there is one to be found in death.  While one is never really ready to turn loose of a dear one, I find it somewhat comforting to think that if the passing was gentle and quiet, it was simply that person’s time to go…their number came up and they were ready to take the hand of the angel sent to fetch them.

I find it interesting how different people’s thought processes are on the issue of death.  While I was raised in several different Christian churchs/congregations…I’ve found comfort in creating my own ideas of what happens when one dies.  More so with the death of my own mother…and have decided that the whole concept is a work-in-progress.

I have learned that every single person deals with death and grief so VERY differently.

The other passing was a woman that practically raised me and my siblings.  My sister was the daughter the woman and her husband would never have.  The woman was barren which is always tragic, but there were never any options discussed, at least, not that I remember or recall.  My sister filled the bill when it came to having a new baby around and living next door to my family or rather my family having moved in next door to this childless couple was a blessing for both households.

This woman and her husband were like another set of grandparents.  They were always there for us and took care of us when my own parents were caught in the throes of early family-hood…my mother had serious psychiatric problems when we were little…between this wonderful couple next door and my biological grandparents on my dad’s side and maternal grandmother from my mom…me and my three other siblings were raised.

This woman taught me how to cook, sew and clean house…something my mother was never able to do for one reason or another…I can’t help but remember all the fond memories of prom dresses and “outfits” for everyday that this woman made for me and my sister.

The sad part of this woman’s passing is that she died a slow and painful, struggling death…dementia had set in quite rudely over the last couple of months.  The woman’s dear husband of 65 years was at her side and was so distraught when he admitted he could no longer care for his wife on his own.  My sister assisted in finding a suitable assisted living center that specialized in care for those with Alzheimer and dementia…how incredibly expensive that was…and it became a reality that this was not enough care for the dear woman.  After many trips to the hospital over a few weeks…the recommendation from the doctors was full nursing care and to make her comfortable.

I can think of no crueler death than that from the loss of one’s mind…the body soon follows suit and starts to shut down…it is so difficult to watch and more so when you’re directly involved with that person…and then it finally ends.  It is a blessing of sorts if you can find a blessing in death…out of pain, out of suffering, out of the blasted body that held the person captive during that horrible time.

Mistress was able to enjoy one lowly submissive this week…a new client to the fold.  Unfortunately, this submissive doesn’t hold a candle to Mistress’ dear subbie…I do my best not to compare those that serve me, but the reality is that dear subbie provides Mistress with the “whole package!”

Mistress works with what she has before her but that doesn’t mean she necessarily likes the package before her…in other words, the vessel of this submissive was sorely lacking…extremely over-weight with a hang-over in front that made finding his cock-meat a real challenge!!!  Of course, the cock always seems three times smaller when hidden under folds of skin and fat…but Mistress is determined to bring forth the desired results, though the thought process of having that cock-meat near Mistress’ smoothly shaved pussy never really becomes an issue…

So my dear subbie…Mistress will be attending a funeral on Saturday morning…and then a viewing on Sunday afternoon and another funeral at noon on Monday.  I’m going to take off of work on Monday and devote my time and attention to the dear man that is left behind by his wife of 65-years.  The dear woman was a few years older than her husband, she was 90 to be 91 in April when she passed yesterday…then it will be back to the grind of things on Tuesday.

Good news for my oldest son the Trooper.  His transfer  went through yesterday and he will assume his new duty on Monday evening.  He will be working the night shift and will no longer need to leave his patrol car at my house.  I’m happy for him but sad that I won’t be seeing him on any type of consistent basis.  I’m trying to rejoice in gaining my ability to session when I desire back…but at the same time, sad to see that chapter come to a close.

I hope dear subbie has a good weekend…Mistress is so hoping that this winter crud comes to an end as we head into March…take care and write when you can…Mistress does love hearing from you.

Sensually, sincerely,

Mistress Elizabeth

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

Roleplay Adventure in Dominiqueland (E Ticket Required)

Some men are experimenters. They dabble. Submission is not part of their psyche. Fetishes don’t guide their sex. They just like sampling a little of everything life has to offer. Especially if the sampling happens to involve beautiful women and nakedness.

James was bored. Work had been slow, the surf had been flat, and his friends were all busy with mundane pursuits. James needed to shake things up. He’d heard about Domination and submission and many things about it had sounded fun and challenging. He didn’t really identify with either “role” but many of the things he read about got his motor going. James had a fertile imagination and an ever-growing fantasy list and he was beginning to think now would be a good time to check a few items off of the list.

He had heard about me and my playthings and read a few blog entries. He decided to take the plunge and give me a call. He said he wanted to be surprised. He wanted to walk into an adventure and be swept up into a story whose ending he didn’t know. His only clues for me to build a session around were that he loved roleplaying games and he wanted two women to be involved.

So, at the appointed time and day, James showed up at my door. I pulled him inside by the front of his shirt before he could finish “Hello” and I breathlessly filled him in.

“I got her! She’s in the bedroom. We need to get the information out of her, no matter what it takes.”

I pulled James to the bedroom and revealed the perfect damsel in distress victim. The lovely and innocent (looking) plaything Morai was on her side on the bed, hog-tied and gagged, wearing matching lacy pink panties and bra (one succulent breast was about to pop loose from all of her wriggling), her huge brown eyes wide, frightened and pleading.

“What should we try first, James?”

James did not look bored any more. James had a canary-bird-eating grin slapped across his face. James rubbed his hands together as he considered the possibilities.

Check back later for Part Two of ROLEPLAY ADVENTURE IN DOMINIQUELAND: Making Morai Talk

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

Hump Day...Wednesday

Another middle of the work-week day…Wednesday.  Things have been busy at the office…I realized yesterday that this is the last work week of February…next Monday starts a whole new month.

I’ve been scurry around this morning, preparing for a BDSM session tonight.  A new subject to take and do with as I please…I do enjoy that first session, the initiation process, so-to-speak…a new naked body to explore, a new cock to manipulate and play with…I’m looking forward to introducing this new submissive to the realm of Mistress Elizabeth.

The sun will be out today which should improve my overall mood…I’m so tired of cloudy and cold…sunny and cold will be nice for a change.

I hate having the eternal struggle with myself to get out of bed in the mornings…I’m really thinking this is due to not getting quality sleep at night…I simply haven’t been able to turn off my mind when I go to bed.  The Advil P.M. works great, provides me with the ability to turn off the lights and TV and go to sleep…just staying asleep and not dreaming or having quality dreams seems to be the problem here.  Maybe it’s pent up sexual frustrations…while my BDSM sessions and fuck sessions are lots of fun, I am beginning to think that maybe I need more?????? 

For some reason, the thought of having “one” man in my life to be my “everything” just seems so far-fetched and way too much like work!!!!  Can you say relationship challenged???  What offers I have been getting to provide me with a warm-fuzzy, as I will call it, simply don’t appeal to me either.  I simply have no desire to “date.”  Crazy, huh?

I need to move along, get a few more things to get done to be ready for my session before jumping into the shower and getting my work day underway…have a great Hump Day!!!!

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

NSFW

Not Safe For Wone

Last week’s filing of the Government’s Notice of Uncharged Conduct I generated a fair amount of light and heat in the Robert Wone case.  The ‘light’ column features highlights of the government’s position – that the murder investigation “…continues”, that the “…killer is someone know [sic] to and being protected by the defendants,” and that the “…government may (emphasis ours) seek to introduce this theory of incapacitation…”  

Leather Pride Flag, a symbol of the BDSM and fetish subculture

In an overwhelmingly accusatory document, the key word here is may, suggesting the government fears its biggest hurdle remains the apparent absence of positive proof that Robert was chemically incapacitated. 

But it was the 10-page “Attachment A” – squarely on the ‘heat’ side of the equation – that led to a squirming, car-crash, ‘ick’ response for many.  Well, ‘ick’ mixed with ‘…wha?’ A Wartenberg wheel?  Padded fist mitts? (“…beautifully made…” says this cheery retailer.) 

A CB-3000?  (now in a helpful plastic version for traveling by air!)  A urethral sound device?

Are you kidding me? A What?

Look, none of these four editors are ingenues or all that naive.  We’ve collectively seen our share.  And to be clear, a fair share of the many, many items seized from 1509 Swann hardly rise to the level of a cocked eyebrow. 

Harnesses, chains, arm bands, hoods, black leather jock, leather blind fold, paddles, collars, ‘Industrial-style’ knee pads…yawn.  The list goes on, and yes, some of the items go well beyond bland sex play.  But they are all legal, and possessing one or all of them does not constitute a crime. 

Frankly dwelling on this S&M shopping list (or inventory for eyecandydvds perhaps?) seems more hathos than trying to gain a better understanding of the crime.

That it is cited in such detail serves two serious purposes.  First, let’s be frank: it was an effective way for the prosecution to keep pressure on the defendants and garner a little more press (got you all to come here, didn’t it?)  The second is far more important, and much more dull.  Collectively, the items of Attachment A strongly argue for their admission in trial by way of Johnson v. United States.

Johnson strikes to the heart of what evidence is admissible, and the variance between that which is probative vs. prejudicial – already a key battleground in the Wone case.   It involved a rather limited question of whether a bullet-proof vest could be admitted as evidence in the gun-possession trial of one Lamont Jones.  Without getting into the legal weeds, Johnson amplified 1964’s Drew v. United States and set a new DC Court of Appeals standard.

“Specifically, Drew does not apply where such evidence (1) is direct and substantial proof of the charged crime, (2) is closely intertwined with the evidence of the charged crime, or (3) is necessary to place the charged crime in an understandable context.”

To this non-lawyer, test #3 is a no-brainer, and a strong case can be drawn in the Wone murder for test #2.  But direct and substantial proof of the charged crime?  After all, Johnson involved a murder with a gun.   The argument could, and may well be made of the differences between a gun – an inherently lethal item – and a black leather jockstrap.

But according to homicide investigator Dallas Drake of the Center for Homicide Research, some perfectly legal objects or activities:

“There are some aspects of S&M culture that are inherently dangerous.  Of course, S&M is highly stigmatized, and I don’t want to add to that.  But the reason we call some behaviors inherently dangerous is because the have a high possibility of causing death.”

For example, Drake cites breath-control play, where one person temporarily asphyxiates their sex partner to increase the sex “high.”  Such behavior may not be illegal, but it is inherently dangerous, because it runs so close to accidentally taking the life of another.  Similarly, possessing a gun may not be illegal, but picking it up is inherently dangerous because of the high probability of injury or death.

So in a crime where the victim was apparently restrained, sexually assaulted or tortured, and ultimately “…dominated in the worst possible way: he was killed,” the fact that dozens of restraints, items used for sexual torture, and any number of books and other objects aimed specifically at dominating and degrading another seems clear to meet the Johnson test.

-posted by Doug

[Via http://whomurderedrobertwone.com]

Bikers Home (finale)

He sat up straight still holding me in his lap and looked at me. I have never believed that I am a beautiful woman. Certainly I have assets, things about me that are intriguing, but beauty is not one of my virtues. I looked away, letting my hair fall across my eyes. He gently brushed it back from my face and placed the back of  his hand against my cheek. It was a soft sort of surrender lying there letting him hold me, caress me. His other hand floated across my body, sending little flashes of electricity across my skin. He was slow, as I had been, exploring.

The heat built slowly in me again, but it was a different feeling, something deeper with an edge to it. I moaned low in my throat, losing myself to the sensation of his touch. He grinned a quirky little boy smile, shy in it. The rocky hardness of his face was transformed, traveling up through those perfect eyes to spear my heart with abandon. I reached up and traced one finger slowly down the scar on his cheek. I smiled up at him, genuine happiness spreading through me and whispered a single word, please.

He took his time, gently laying me down on the pillows. The heat from his body rivaled the heat from the fire and both mingled through my consciousness. His touch was the most gentle I have ever felt. To have that sweetness coming from such a hard man blew through my pain and something small let loose inside me. He covered me with kisses, with his body. I felt him grow hard against me and I wrapped my legs around him raising my hips to feel the head of his cock poised to take me. He paused, raised up above me and looked down into my eyes as he slide inside. I watched his face, his eyes as he did, that last vestige of control slipping away from us both.

We made love, slow and sweet by the fire. It was hours of gently lapping orgasms building on each each other like waves against the shore. There was no inch of each others bodies we left unexplored, nothing left to the imagination. Our urgency built with the waves, growing stronger until we were both washed away by the tidal wave of need. By this time I was so lost in desire that thought was obliterated. I lived in sensation, a liquid pool of molten heat. We spilled over into each other, scattering like stars in the night sky. The fire died down, cooled to embers. Like us it lay spent in a pile of ashes, a calm ending to the consuming roar. We drifted off to sleep, our minds joining our bodies in wasted bliss.

A quick snap to reality and I found myself standing once again with a gentle hand against my face. The music thumped in the background, ice blue eyes looking at me with a desire hotter than I had ever known. My phone buzzed insistently in my pocket. He felt it vibrate and looked down toward it. The spell broke when our eye contact did and I was left breathless, burning with need. Such sweet abandon I had felt, all in a matter of moments  from a simple touch of a strong man. I rocked back on my heels and knew it was time to go home. My need was leaking dangerously close to the surface and if I didn’t escape now, it was going to swallow me whole.

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

Who wears short shorts?

Yea I couldn’t (if I wanted to in the sub-zero weather that is)… the cause for that to follow, but this first:

You know what I got for Valentine’s day? A hand painted lady bug picture holder in red and pink. Luke painted it for me! I actually already had the lady bug. I had gotten it ages ago, I don’t remember where from. It always was meant to be painted so he finally did it for me and it looks so cute. It might not seem much but if you know us it’s a wonderful gesture.

I’ve never been a fan of v-day. The push and obligation to be romantic is ridiculous to me. It’s cheapening something I believe to be very private and precious. When I met Luke he wouldn’t quite believe that I wasn’t into it all and he really wanted to do things for me to make me feel special. So I said if we had to do something, whatever we gave each other had to be handmade. This is our 6th Valentine’s day together (well our 7th but considering we met on the 8th of Feb we weren’t quite that far along by 14th!) Over the years we’ve given each other some really precious handmade things which we’ll always treasure. Because they are unique they are effortlessly memorable. This year, by painting the lady bug he was telling me (told me!) that he would work to make a lot of my hopes and his promises come true.

OK enough sap.

I promised I’d talk about my anniversary but first the lead up. I mentioned that on the 6th we had some weirdness going on. It all started rather innocently. That Saturday morning we were lying in bed and I was teasing Luke trying to goad him playfully into giving me a spanking. However, he misunderstood something I did. When he grabbed the paddle from the bedside table, I just thought I had managed to get him to play but while I was all silliness, he was all business. I noticed that he was spanking me a bit too hard and fast for play, a lot more like a punishment but I remained clueless until a few seconds later came the lecture. And then all of the sudden the penny dropped and with it my pain tolerance. Of course, as soon as I found out there was a misunderstanding I should have spoken but sometimes when I am in my little girl space, I can’t speak out fast enough. I am not sure why. It’s not the safest thing for sure. But somehow being in that space makes me about as articulate as a child. So when he asked me if I was ever going to do — again, I froze. I hadn’t really done — (thus the misunderstanding) but I couldn’t get it out. My adult side was angry, my little girl side was pouting, neither was getting a word out, which meant he kept spanking me which in turn made my adult side angrier and sent my little girl side into a panic WHICH meant I began rolling around and moving under the paddle WHICH made him angry at me for breaking position WHICH meant harder spanking AND THEN…

All hell broke loose.

I was mad at him for not reading my body cause god knows I don’t move like that ever and I was mad at me for my lack of communication and after I ended the scene he didn’t stay around to talk things over and that made me more upset aaaaaand the day was ruined.

But!

Of course, sleep fixes all so at some point through the night I had snuggled up to him and so I woke up to him rubbing my back and murmuring in my ear. Being an astute student of body language (unlike some people) I knew from the way he was rubbing my back, he was planning to revisit, resolve and re-conquer. So half asleep, I reached down and pulled down my panties… my own brand of white flag if you will. Nothing like a paddle to warm you up on a cold winter morn. Of course, my pain tolerance was back where it should be so while it hurt, I was deep into endorphin high in a couple of minutes. He must have really enjoyed himself too because once we got up to go get some breakfast he had me up against the wall and accentuated his handy work with the prison strap. And after that he felt some more detail work would really enhance the whole picture so he made me wait for him to get his crop. The crop, being so narrow and springy causes this burst of acute pain (like when you stub a toe really bad) and then all the force of the impact flows out in the longer lasting warm throbbing pain. That first WHAM makes the skin go white and then the skin turns an angry red. Because of that deep white flash among all the nice red welts, Daddy calls that particular effect the “white lightening”. He is corny like that. This effect is also the thing I hate about the crop on my back. I can take anything on my ass and thighs but while a flog on back and shoulders can be sensual… the crop is plain painful even though he uses it with much less force (cause let’s face it more force would crack my ribs!) So several white lightnings later, I finally got to get some breakfast.

Maybe these two days of spankings are why the third one did what it did… but I guess we’ll never know! On the 8th, I got an anniversary spanking. He wanted his little girl otk and he was going to paddle me. (Are you noticing that he has a special affinity for the paddle? The bastard ) We traditionally play harder on anniversaries. It’s not like either of us ever decided that’s what we should do but we seem to always push things a bit. We test our own boundaries and each other’s. It’s always fun. And so on 8th he began nice and slow, sending me off to lala land in mere moments. The pain was exquisite. He would spread the blows evenly and once in a while focus on one point until I almost couldn’t take it before moving on again. He had me dancing under his paddle. He loves how I rise to meet his paddle. I think he believes it’s intentional. And sometimes it is. Actually it might always be on some unconscious level. But about 15 min into that spanking when he commented on it, I was surprised. I’d been moving without any direct intent. Every inch of my ass and upper thighs tingled. I became more and more sensitive to every blow but less sensitive to pain. I wanted more. A lot of times after a whipping or spanking that has me soaked in my own sweat and exhausted from pain, the moment he walks away I feel this little disappointment that it’s all over… like, “but I wanted more!” Well, he must have sensed it because after what was already a very long session he told me to beg for any additional blows. You know what begging does to a bottom? I was on fire. (Pun intended). I kept asking begging until at some point he stuck the paddle in front of my face and half of it was bloody to which I gave the biggest goofy grin. What I was thinking was, there is no way he split my skin. It didn’t hurt that bad.

Well

It turns out the repeated wood impact on skin wears skin out!! Who could have known?!! He had worn out two circles (don’t ask me how, imagine highest point of impact and a radius around it) of skin out of the two cheeks of my ass. Two oozing red circles. There wasn’t a lot of blood at the site but the whatever little was there had been splattered over everything immediately around my butt. *laughing* it was ridiculously gruesome and of course since blood was involved exciting. There is something so awesome about blood. So darkly mysterious. It makes me shiver. It makes him hard. But this was not that kind of blood. This was decidedly slow oozing blood, mixed with mostly interstitial fluid. When he was quite through (yes we still went on after observing the bloody paddle), I cleaned the wounds and put some salve on it but it oozed for another 2, 3 days. Sitting was very uncomfortable. I actually HAD to lay on my belly. You know like all the good old spanking stories when people are rendered so painful they can’t sit for a week. Well while bruises won’t quite achieve that, lack of skin does! And I tell you, while the fantasy of being that severely punished is delicious… the reality of having come by it in such an odd way was not as “fun”. I cursed and groaned and laughed at myself. HE spent the week laughing, literally, at my ass and threatening more on top of it.

The wounds did bruise some (which made him very happy because I haven’t bruised in any shade of blue for ages), then the skin began peeling and falling off and after an exact week, my bottom was back to normal.

We’ve been running around like headless chickens but I’ve been itching for the belt since. I think the paddle can take vacation now yes? Let’s draw blood with leather. (No knotted leather, too easy!!) And the perfect occasion awaits. I’m gonna be 3-0!

I just read over this and I realize it’s rather … bite sized (or post sized) version of the events I said I’d write about but waddaya want from me. I am tired. I have clinic tomorrow. I’ll write more later. Really I will. I have talking to do about Luke’s diet. The man has lost 7 lbs already. I rocketh!

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

Black And Blueprint

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Sharing one of our best nights

The scene: February, 2008. A chilly, bright and sunny day turning into a chilly, calm and dark evening.

The players: Ruby and Sir

The action:

I had to work on that fateful day. Throughout the day I knew that Sir was planning something fun for us for that night, but I had no idea what he had up his sleeve. I watched the clock as the countdown of hours turned into a countdown of minutes. When I was finally done for the day, I went home, took a shower and started the intricate process of finding that perfect balance of romantically, softly pretty and sexily tarty. I was to meet Sir at seven thirty at the arts space where he worked. I wasn’t sure what was awaiting me, but I was excited. I’d made Sir some chocolate fudge (for his unyielding sweet tooth) and had written him a heartfelt valentine. My meager offering would soon be blown out of the water by what he’d done, but at this point, I was in the dark.

I got off the bus and as I approached the building, the lights were off. I opened the door, which was unlocked, and walked in, somewhat confused by the lack of lights and lack of Sir. I took a few more steps into the lobby, and saw four red roses sitting on the bar, each one bathed in a circle of light. Also on the bar were sweet messages written under each flower. I slowly gathered each of them up, feeling my heart flutter. At the end of the bar, in the last circle of light, was a piece of black fabric, with a note that said. “Put this blindfold on and wait for me”. I giggled a little, put my things down and tied the blindfold around my eyes. About 45 seconds passed, and then out of nowhere I heard the heavy footsteps of boots and felt Sir slip his hand into mine, intertwining our fingers. He kissed me softly on the lips and said “Trust me?” I nodded. He led me into the main space, taking small steps and leading me ever so slowly.

Still blindfolded, when we entered the space, he said, “You look beautiful, but you are wearing entirely too many clothes”. He gently started peeling away the layers – first my winter coat, then my top, then my skirt and underwear, leaving me wearing only my knee high boots. The air was chilly on my naked skin, and I felt very exposed, standing naked in a place where we had spent so much time working. After running his warm hands over my chilled skin, he led me further into the room and lifted me onto a platform. I was propped up against something and tied down. Finally he undid the blindfold. My eyes adjusted from the total darkness to the partial darkness of the room with lights hanging from the ceiling pointed right at me. I looked at Sir, in awe. I was up on a corner stage and was strung up on a St. Andrew’s Cross, which he had spent the day building. I was taken aback, both in shock of the work he’d put into preparing for the evening and of how special I felt. No one had ever gone to such lengths for me before.

After a deep kiss, an evil grin and a soft brush of his hand on my cheek, the blindfold went back on.

First, Sir lubed my ass up, the cold gel making me jump (as much as I could in the restraints) and inserted a butt plug. Then, nipple clamps were attached onto me, the discomfort growing and growing for about a minute before the sensation mellowed out into a pleasurable one. All the while, Sir was saying really raunchy things, and making my cunt drip with the thought that someone could walk in at that point and there was no way I could hide. He was getting into my head, giving my brain a very sexy massage. For the next little while, he used a combination of pain and pleasure to bring me to orgasm twice. My body was red and raw from the snaps of the crop all over my thighs, tits and belly. He used his fingers and a vibrator to fuck me, filling me up in both of my holes (my ass still holding onto that plug). After two orgasms, he told me that he was really going to pick up the pace and start hurting me more. He draped a heavy chain around my waist, stuffed a dildo into my cunt and held it there by tying rope to the chain and stringing it between my thighs. He stuffed my underwear into my mouth, softly gagging me. Still blindfolded, he put another rose in my hand and told me to drop it in lieu of using a safeword if I needed to. I nodded.

The beating I took was intense and difficult and absolutely pleasurable in the way pain can be for a masochist. At one point, the nipple clamps were getting in the way, so he removed them from my nipples, causing me to scream through the gag, and put them instead on my labia. There was nothing I could do but let myself fall into a mental state that some would call “subspace”…I just call it floating; where I’m still very much present, but my body and my mind feel unattached and the sensations feel like light.

When the beating was over, he quickly went to work on my clit with his mouth. I had an orgasm so intense that I shot the butt plug right out of me. He laughed, I was embarrassed. He told me that I was a bad girl for letting my ass expel the gift of the plug. I heard the sound of his heavy boots walking away from me. My breathing was heavy, my skin was glistening with beads of sweat. I had no idea what was coming, and then, out of the darkness and the silence, the sound of a chainsaw, or a metal grinder, or some piece of machinery that was incredibly loud and scary went off very close to my head (or so I thought). This was still very early on in our relationship and I had mentioned on numerous occasions that I find it really hot to be scared out of my wits. I screamed and started to cry, which, after everything I’d endured already that night, was very cathartic. Still, my fist clenched down on that rose stem and my arms and legs clenched against the bite of the rope that was keeping me still. It turned on and off, changing positions and confusing my aural perception for a few minutes before Sir walked up to me and kissed my cheek.

After what seemed like a lifetime, he took the underwear out of my mouth, the rose out of my hand, and undid my blindfold. As he brushed the hair out of my face, he looked at my slightly reddened and glassy eyes. He looked at me with so much love, and told me he was proud of me. I shook my head, and told him that I had no words. I felt incredible. I smiled softly as he undid the rope and carried me down to a comfy chair in the middle of the room. He cradled me in his lap and held me tight. After a few minutes of silence and just being close, he tipped my chin up, kissed me and said “Well? How was that?” I opened my mouth to speak, and big fat tears rolled out of my eyes instead. I told him I’d had the best night ever and that I felt so loved and so safe and that no one had ever gone to that kind of trouble for me. I felt ridiculous, crying so much after something so wonderful had happened, but he knew that I was simply overwhelmed and was very happy that the plan had been a success. He presented me with one last rose, and as I gathered them all together and we got ourselves presentable again, I felt our relationship change. It went from one of trying each other out to being real partners in crime It convinced me that this was my match. The man I wanted to give myself to fully. It was wonderful.

The night ended with dinner and us making love. An incredible night that I still remember vividly. A memory I will hold onto for the rest of my life. So much love.

<3 Ruby

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

Ebanned.com & Another Beautiful Day At The Dungeon

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hmmm ouch!!!

A few gruesome stories that would make any guy cross his legs; tightly. Both are true.

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A friendship between two men turned to tragedy when one bit off and swallowed the penis of the other, resulting in likely loss of liberty for one and the unrecoverable loss of manhood for the other.

Marian Milczarek (53) became embroiled in a fight with his best friend, Wojciech Sowinski,who suffered the loss of his penis, having it bitten off and apparently gulped down by Sowinski in the course of their altercation.

The two men began fighting when an argument over a borrowed trailer escalated into physical violence.  According to Milczarek: “[Sowinki] began hitting me with a chain and then pulled down my trousers and started biting. It was agony.”

Medical technology has advanced to the degree that a severed penis can be reattached upon successful recovery of the organ and timely surgery.

However, a subsequent search by police and emergency medical staff failed to yield up the missing male member. Police suspect that Sowinski may have eaten it, having probably consumed it during their fight.

“If we’d had the other bit of his penis we could have sewn it back on,” said Dr Adam Domanasiewicz from the hospital in nearby Trzebnica, where Milczarek is recovering.

Sowinski is now facing a 10 year prison sentence for the assault.

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A man took a pair of scissors and snipped off his own member after a falling out with his girlfriend. As he attempted to preserve it for posterity, doctors later managed to sew it back on.

After an argument with his girlfriend over her not moving in with him, he returned home and there cut off his manhood, apparently as he wished to be done with women entirely.

The man (37) was found bleeding on the floor, and was soon conveyed to hospital. Doctors, having discovered that, for some reason even he cannot explain, he had put his severed penis on ice, then managed to reattach the member.

It is not clear whether the self-castrator will regain full use of the unwanted appendage, or indeed whether he is happy about still having it.

Police explain the failed eunuch’s situation: “He told us that apparently he did not need his penis since his girlfriend didn’t want to move in with him – after two broken marriages, he said he wanted to have nothing in common with women.”

Regarding his mysterious refrigeration of his lost manhood, police have this to say: “This was one wise thing that he did, if we can at all speak about wisdom in a situation like that.”

Russia actually has a long history of this sort of thing, thanks to the extensive activities of the Christian cult of the Skoptsy, whose members would cut off their genitals and breasts in order to rid themselves of temptation…

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A lady had an orgasm so intense that she vaginally trapped her husband’s penis inside her for over two hours, causing the pair to be hospitalised and nearly costing the husband his manhood.

The couple, Ivan (56) and Valentina (51), had apparently received a copy of the Kama Sutra, the traditional Indian sex manual well known for some challenging positions, as a joke birthday present they say.

Undaunted and doubtless aroused, the pair opted to try out some of the positions detailed in the book; after much joyful experimentation, they reached “Indrani”, a position where the lady lies on her back with her knees brought up to her chest and legs spread, allowing the man read access.

The position proved effective and Valentina soon climaxed intensely, involuntarily contracting the muscles of her vagina vigorously as a result.

So tightly did she contract that Ivan could not so much as withdraw his penis; worse yet, the contraction persisted, and the couple vainly struggled to free themselves for two hours.

It soon became apparent that they were in serious difficulty, and would require medical assistance.

An ambulance soon arrived, and first responders described the terrible scene they were confronted with:

“We couldn’t help laughing looking at them. The two lovers, who were not young at all, were stuck in such a position!”

Doctors soon realised the man could be in danger of a most unfortunate injury:

“We had to hurry because the swelling of the man’s sex organ had begun. We called our best surgeons, but the man somehow escaped!”

It seems the prospect of the tender ministrations of the surgeons persuaded Ivan to get loose. He apparently fled the scene without debilitating injury, and doctors found only a bleeding Valentina.

The surgeons operated on her, and she escaped significant injury, though clearly the pride of both will not soon be recovering.

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A man (42) who visited a park in the dead of night to engage in nude exercise, and then decided to have sex with some park furniture became trapped in the attempt, we hear. His member became so engorged with blood that he could no longer withdraw himself; it took all the efforts of emergency services to release him.

The man seems to have been inspired whilst engaged in a spot of nude midnight exercise; he visited the park at 11pm, stripped off all his clothes for some reason, and began exercising vigorously. He became excited. Seeing no option but to relieve his tension using the very fixture he was excersing on, he lay on it and inserted himself, and thence became trapped.

The fixtures in question were established some years ago in order to perform sit-ups on; each plate was made of iron, being 180cm by 60cm, and they were perforated with holes of some 3cm in diameter to allow drainage of rainwater…

Realising the potentially emasculating, and definitely agonising nature of his plight, he cried desperately for assistance, and eventually the fire brigade was summoned to render aid, which they did promptly (pictured above).

It was not so simple as this however; he could not be withdrawn due to the swelling, and in his agonies there was apparently little they could do for him other than tie him down and wait for medical assistance. Medical personnel soon arrived, and administered painkillers, and an ice pack to his member; this eventually allowed his excitement to subside, and for him to be evacuated to hospital.

But his ordeal did not end there – the man begged witnesses not to take pictures (which we see here), and not to take his name (his name was released in the original report), saying “I won’t be able to look people in the eye again! I’ll not be able to find a job!” The Hong Kong media gleefully reported all these details.

In the end, he was trapped in the park furniture for well over an hour, and when his engorgement eventually showed signs of subsiding, the firemen cut his partner loose with hacksaws, and with ten men carried them both to away to be hospitalised.

A little blood was all that was left of his encounter with the park. We do not hear what became of his partner.

An imaginative use of park furniture, though disturbing questions are raised. Why did he feel the need to undress? Why did he choose a hole in a park when he could have likely made his own uncomfortable 3cm hole anywhere else with no risk? Was it the spur of the moment? Most pressingly, how did he fit himself into such a small hole?

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More than just an intimate career advancement session between a secretary and her employer was abruptly cut short when a jolt to their vehicle left her biting off more than she could chew.

The 30-year-old secretary had joined her superior in a car after work at a Singapore park for a romantic liaison.

Unbeknownst to the pair, the woman’s husband was rightly suspicious of his wife, and had the pair tailed by a private investigator, who followed them to the park and there witnessed them in the car together.

Soon after the car began shaking vigorously.

However, their career development session was terminated prematurely when a van backed into their car sharply, and a loud scream from the secretary was heard. Shortly after she exited the vehicle with blood pouring from her mouth.

The private investigator summoned an ambulance, and the man was soon hospitalised. His penis biting secretary later followed with the part she had bitten off.

The investigator commented that it was the first time he had ever seen such a thing.

We do not hear whether reattachment proved possible.

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A man has been hospitalised after biting off his own penis.

The man (26), a resident of Brooklyn, New York, was discovered by police behind a building, bleeding profusely.

He was found to have bitten off the tip (presumably the glans) of his own penis, apparently by contortion.

He is now recovering in hospital. It is not clear what became of the portion of his penis he gnashed off.

Police are frank about the mystifying nature of the case: “How he did it? Limber, I guess. Not the work of a sane mind.”

He was previously accused of violating a 13-year-old girl, and was later sentenced to two months for misdemeanours.

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A woman has been charged with rape after she threatened to cut off the penis of man unless he had sex with her; when he failed to satisfy her she then scorched his penis with a curling iron.

The woman, a 23-year-old resident of Pennsylvania state, told her 22-year-old male victim she would cut open his penis and watch him bleed to death if he did not have sex with her.

She took the man to her bedroom, where she had sex with him. Not satisfied with his performance, she took a previously heated curling iron and clipped it to his ear, injuring him.

She then told him she would escalate her abuse if he failed to satisfy her; evidently still unsatisfied, she soon clipped the iron to his penis, burning and blistering it.

Her victim visited hospital the next day for treatment, where he reported the matter to police.

Police arrested the woman, who was found to be on probation after facing previous charges burglary, robbery and reckless endangerment in relation to an incident with a steak knife.

She now faces additional charges of rape, aggravated indecent assault, involuntary deviate sexual intercourse, terroristic threats and reckless endangerment.

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A woman has been arrested after she tied firecrackers to her boyfriend’s penis whilst he was sleeping and set them off, as she was enraged that he turned down her offer of marriage.

The Russian couple had apparently been dating for two years, and the woman felt confident enough to propose.

However, her boyfriend (33) refused, undiplomatically telling her he would rather return to his first wife and their son.

His girlfriend was infuriated by this, and hatched a plan of incredible viciousness. When her former lover was in the process of moving out to return to his former wife, she invited him to a farewell dinner, there plying him with much food and drink.

Soon he fell asleep, and his jilted lover took her chance to avenge herself. She tied several firecrackers to his penis, and lit them. They exploded with catastrophic effects.

The man was hospitalised immediately and is said to be fighting for his life. It seems probable that he was completely emasculated by the attack.

If he survives, his ex-lover will face a sentence of up to twelve years, though if he dies murder charges seem likely.

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[Via http://badgurl2u.wordpress.com]

Spanking; Punishment and Discipline

There is a difference between a discipline spanking, and a spanking meant to punish.  As I understand it, a discipline spanking is administered as a consequence for infractions of predetermined and agreed upon rules and guidelines.  A discipline spanking seeks to modify negative behaviors for the good of the individual, as well as  for the overall benefit of the couple’s relationship.  A discipline spanking fills the emotional, and perhaps sexual, needs of both participants.  This is an over simplified and non-specific definition, but my hope is that it touches on the crucial elements of this type of spanking.  Punishment is different.  When used in terms of bdsm, punishment is all about the deep internal psycho-sexual needs of the masochist.  In my case, my need to be punished is directly tied to my need to be in touch with all the different facets of who I am.  Pain and punishment give me access to a part of myself I can reach in no other way.  Intense and severe, punishment is liberating, calming, sexually satisfying in the extreme,  and a path to peace and serenity that I have found nowhere else on earth.  A true sadist is required for punishment.  He must be willing to go beyond pre-established limits, and this is an art.  To punish safely requires that the sadist genuinely care about his masochist.  His pleasure at the pain he is inflicting must be clear.  I want to know my screams excite him and I want to know that he owns me body and soul.   To be continued …  

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

Mystery beer, Rocket Popp and an achy back

Last night was the weekly mystery beer at favorite place. This time it was a friend of mine’s birthday and I asked her to join me. This was one of my beers:

I liked the label [a lot] but it tore when I tried to rip it off the bottle. Later, another friend showed up and joined us. It was a fun night but I wished Joey could have joined us as well. She had a doctor’s appointment that day and was worn out by the time we got home. I probably shouldn’t have stopped off at the Salvation Army as that contributed to what little energy she had left.

Today, I had a major clean-up to do for a new client. I wasn’t looking forward to it especially since I was a tad bit hung over. But, I thought it went better than expected. Although, getting the mower in and out of the truck wasn’t easy and my back is letting me know it’s not happy with me.

After emailing both Laura and Ellen and informing them that I would hang out with them separately [Which, I think Elizabeth has not problem with] I kept getting texts from Laura wanting to know when we could talk. I realized that I really in the mood to talk wasn’t ready as I was still angry with her. She kept on and I ignored her kept her at bay a few days when finally I relented because she wouldn’t stop bugging me texting and asking when I was available. Finally, we spoke on the phone it was all about her not feeling well, getting some results she didn’t like back from the doctor [this was the same line of tests she underwent at Christmas and looking back the same thing happened but we cut her some slack because of it] and that she wasn’t in any state to be around anyone [except Elizabeth] on her birthday. I forgave her but she still could have been more honest about what was going on with her last week on her birthday instead of making Elizabeth deal with it be the bearer of “party’s off”.  She has yet to email Joey as Joey wrote her separately on some entirely different issues she had. The “I’m sorry I was a bi-otch because I didn’t feel well.” doesn’t really fly too high in her book since most days she doesn’t feel well but she doesn’t take it out on others. I guess when I get to a point with a friend where I’m asking myself why should I f*ing try what the hell am I getting out of this friendship? Then, it’s time to step back for a little while. That’s what I intend to do for awhile.

I put some new things on Rocket Popp so be sure to stop by and check them out. If you order now then you’ll most likely have your order in my VALENTINES DAY! Whoo-hoo!

Anyway, that’s all that me and ma achin’ back has got today.

[Via http://trinity2.wordpress.com]