Girl Kiss

While we were on vacation many of our extended kink family were with us.  El Jefe and Goddess were there as well as Coupe and Painted Lady, all of whom I’ve written about here, here and here

One night we were all having a great time drinking and dancing and enjoying the evening.  The event we were at had a bar and a dance floor with a DJ.  We had a great time.  We all decided to wrap up the night back at Goddess and El Jefe’s hotel room.  As we headed back, a man who was interested in one of the women in our group tagged along.  He was gangly and awkward and tried too hard. And now here he was in the room with us. 

Everyone chose a place to sit in the room.  Daddy made drinks.  Goddess chose to lie on the bed so I joined her there.  It was so nice to take off my shoes after all the dancing.  We were happy and tipsy.  I looked over at Goddess and she had mischief in her eyes.  “Come here, give me a kiss.” I felt a little thrill go through my body then I immediately remembered there was someone who was not one of our family there.  I gave Goddess a chaste little kiss.  I didn’t know how we were going to do this with awkward guy in the room. 

“That was a friend kiss.  Give me a real kiss.” Goddess was not to be denied what she wanted. I threw caution to the winds and kissed her in earnest this time, audience be damned.  Her lips were incredibly soft.  Kissing a woman is nothing like kissing a man.  I savored the feel of her soft lips, the taste of her tongue, the heat I could feel from her.  She is very sexy, very sexual.

As we are kissing, I could hear the awkward guy asking Daddy, “So, what exactly is going to happen here?” While I can feel eyes upon us from the rest of the room.  I’m ready to be all in with Goddess at this point but not nearly drunk enough to be the show for Vanilla gawkers. 

When we came up for air, I smiled to Goddess.  She is amazing.  She is fun and real and full of sexual energy.  We giggled and laughed as our surroundings made it back to our awareness.  “We have got to get him out of here.” I said to her.  

“I know, right?” She responded.  She called El Jefe over. “Can you get rid of him Honey?” 

El Jefe grunted and said, “Not likely with you two over here making out.” He gavr her a kiss and a smack on the ass while we laughed at his response.

Meanwhile Daddy was trying to explain to the guy our open relationships and everyone is an adult here and can do what they want. Oh boy.  Except no one wanted to do anything with the awkward guy around. 

After snuggling with Goddess a while and inviting Coupe to join us on the bed, we wrapped up the evening platonically.  Such is life.  Another time we’ll return to continue what we started.  Until then, I have my memory of her incredibly soft lips. Mmmm

Power Dynamic

Such is the rhythm of my life at the moment that I start to write and don’t get back to finish for weeks.  We have had a couple intense sessions recently but I can’t write them with enough details to do them justice. It begs the question, if kinky sex happens and no one writes a blog about it, did it happen at all?

I’m doing my best to write. Random stuff, unnecessary stuff, non-sexual, non-kinky stuff, because if I don’t I fear I’ll stop writing altogether. The most lifestyle related thing I’ve been doing lately is reading a book on the Master/slave dynamic called, Living M/s. What a great book. It is written in sections by a Master and a slave currently living a 24/7 power exchange relationship. So many things they talk about resonate with me.

I was trying to explain the book and my thoughts on it to Daddy. I’m not sure I did such a great job. One thing the slave talks about is how the power exchange in her vanilla relationships was always a problem. That there was always a faltering kind of competitiveness and resentments that would crop up over inconsequential things. This is absolutely what I had in my marriage. I couldn’t put a name to it for years, but there was always a constant tit-for-tat undercurrent in my first marriage. I’d make dinner and expect that he’d do the dishes. He wouldn’t. Then I’d get resentful. He’d ask me to do something for him and I’d feel put out and so I’d do it begrudgingly. He didn’t deserve my serving him because I was pissed about something else minor. 

After decades of this, I was inadvertently introduced to the D/s lifestyle. Everything I read about power exchange relationships made such incredible sense! Why guess and compete and struggle for who is in charge in a relationship? It’s so damned hard and so useless. I could immediately see the wisdom in choosing roles. When my mindset is to be his submissive, to serve and to put him before me in my considerations, life is good. I am at peace. I am filled with contentment.

Daddy wrote up a contract for me to agree to before we began on our journey together. I’ll have to share it at some point. One of his desires was to have me submit in private but for us to be equals in public. Honestly, I think about this a lot. I continue to want to push deeper and deeper into this lifestyle. Even right now, while we’re mainly living a vanilla life, stressed and struggling our way through major life changes, I feel myself on this ever present quest to get back to what is deeper, to submit more, to have my whole being committed to him in this power play. But is that what he wants? Would I want to give up power completely or more than I can imagine now?  

I know a few things so far.  When I am conscious of the power dynamic, I am alive.  I feel connected to him. I feel the raw, sexual energy flowing between us. When I don’t feel it, I falter.

Focus

With the impending move, I feel like our lives are on hold or in a curve of the road. At any time, the wheel will turn and we’ll be heading in a different direction. It puts me in a holding pattern. For someone so focused on forward movement and
the ever present to-do list, it is challenging for me. Mr. D moved in not too long ago now. We’re past the unpacking but still in the organizing/downsizing/hanging pictures phase. Now the pictures just sit on the floor in the bedroom. I want to hang his pictures, make him feel like this is his home too. But, soon it won’t be. What does a nesting submissive do in this situation?
So far, I am continuing to do many of the things I set out to do in order to make our dynamic work in a house with a child. I serve Mr. D in all the ways I am able. I cook the family dinner most nights. I dress for him. I’ve only worn pants to work 3 days over the past 2 months. I have a growing selection of dresses I wear expressly to please him. I’m close to converting my entire wardrobe to ultra-feminine clothes that please Daddy. I get compliments all the time at work now. Even for a conservative place, I’m able to step up my femininity so that when I arrive home from work Daddy is pleased with what he sees. I’m still working on wearing makeup more often. I’ve been lax on that since motherhood took over my life and it’s slow to return. I do wear it for him when we go out but I want to be better at this for him. Like any new habit, I try to start it, and then I have to try again when I completely forget that it was a goal.
I’m taking good care of all of us with food selections. I do my best to feed my men healthy meals. I keep the house as clean as I’m able with as packed as our little place is with stuff. Each month I take a couple boxes of things to the Salvation Army. Slowly and steadily I make small changes and we become more organized and more comfortable in our space.
Last night, Mr. D and I looked online at houses in the Dallas area. I felt excited to see all the possibilities there. We saw several houses and narrowed down a bit what we each like and want in a home. The houses are larger there and less costly than here. It makes me happy and hopeful to focus on the fun, exciting part of our coming move. I’m pretty good at not stressing about the hard parts generally. I consciously have to choose not to think about those things at all and to put them away for now. Things like, how will my son react to moving? Will he settle in and be happy there? Will his dad fight us over moving him out of state? How will all this work? Am I going to make one of my men unhappy so the other will be happy? How do I follow my heart and still be true to being a good mom? At the moment, I choose to set this entire mental conversation aside. It’s pointless. One day at a time. At least I learned that from Alanon.

Left You Hanging

So, I wrote Coming Alive Again, part one and promptly left you guys hanging for weeks.  I feel really bad about that.  And now it’s been so long since that play session with Mr. D that I don’t honestly think I can do it justice.  Perhaps he can refresh my memory so I can finish it. 

Have I told you that Mr. D got a job offer in another state? He did and today he got the actual verbal offer.  So, soon it will be a done deal.  He will move to Texas ahead of me and I’ll go later.  With family and my son to plan for, it will take me time to move.  I hope and pray this goes as planned.  

My main concern is that my son’s dad will throw out a major road block which, really, he would have every right to do.  How will my son react to me wanting to move him to another state?  No idea.   He’s just starting his teen years.  He already has a full emotional plate.

I just wanted to stop in, say hello, break my stressy writers block by talking a little about what’s on my mind.  I figured if I did that and stopped trying to return to where I’d left off that at least I’d be writing again. 

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Slave Tales: The Hunt (XXII) – “The Ancient Ritual”

You’ve just got to love her thoughts on cock worship. There is nothing like getting lost in worshipping a fine cock.

I love giving my all to that endeavor.

Besos De Cuero

Continues from Slave Tales: The hunt (XXI)

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Image – author unknown

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The erect cock was recently shaved and perfumed, its texture was hard and smooth, like a firmly flexed muscle. Glistening wet it shone darkly in the moonlight, as if it were covered in a thin coat of melted chocolate.

I licked my lips. I couldn’t help it.

I moved closer until I was kneeling squarely opposite the crucified slave boy with my face just inches from his cock. Then I slowly raised my hands up to the upraised trunk with both my palms underneath it facing up, as if I were receiving a gift. I held it like that very carefully for a moment and then blessed it.

The blessing of the cock is an ancient ritual. There are two holy symbols in our religion. The Cock and the Cunt. Both beautiful. Both vital. Both divine. Two conduits…

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Coming Alive Again

We were having a relaxing day. Breakfast was done and he went out to have a cigar.  Usually that means he is occupied for about an hour.  I decided to have a shower and get dressed so we could go run some errands when he was done. 

I dried off and put on a sexy pair of red lace thong panties for later. As I was pulling a pair of jeans shorts over the panties I looked down the hall and Daddy was standing there watching me. My heart raced a little.  He pointed at my shorts and lowered his finger to the ground.  Oh my, I don’t think we’re going to the store, I thought as I lowered the shorts. 

I kept my eyes on him as he walked down the hall.  He looked me up and down as I stood there in nothing but panties.  “Very nice. I was wondering where you had gone.  I called for you but no answer.” He said as he kissed me.

“Sorry Daddy, I was showering.”

“I see that now.  I was ready to have a nice relaxing blowjob while I had my cigar but you weren’t around.”

“I’m sorry Daddy.” I felt bad.  I had inadvertently missed a cue.

“You should be. Put on your collar and meet me in the dining room.” Then he was gone.  My heart raced faster. I threw off the wet towel on my head, shook out my wet hair and followed him to the dining room.

The chairs were pulled out from the table and the table was clear of everything but the red tablecloth that was on it. He wasn’t there at first.  He came in from the patio holding a length of rope as I was surveying the room.  “Lean over the table, arms out.”  I did as told, stretching my body across the table.  My thighs were up against the edge with my ass out and my breasts on the table top. “Is that a good height?” He asked.  We had never played on this table before.  My grandmother’s dining table. 

“Yes Daddy, it’s good.” I stretched my body out on its surface, my arms in front of me.  When he’s tied me before it’s been on his padded spanking bench or a bed.  The hard table was something new.  He looped the rope several times then laced my wrists in the loops.  He tied me off across the  table to the adjacent bar. Fortunately the bar does not currently have wineglasses in it. “You know the words that will release you if needed?” He asked.  I told him I did.  Our safe words are the standard ‘red’ and ‘yellow’.

Now, I’m stretched across the table with my feet steady on the ground and my ass presented to him.  His hands caress all over my back, butt, and thighs.  I close my eyes to enjoy the warm up for I know some of what is to come.  First, he spanked me barehanded.  He has big, warm hands.  He is incredibly strong and I felt his power in those first strikes.  He spanked me and I bounded forward on the table from the force.  My grandmother’s table creaked under me.  Randomly, I thought of Daddy just recently gluing and fixing the chairs and that he might end up having to do the same to the table.  The strange places one’s mind wanders at the beginning of a beating.

I tilted my head to the side, the table was hard under me.  Daddy had tied me with play in the line so I could move around a bit.  He picked up an implement, possibly an English riding crop and I felt the sting of it.  There were warm up taps all over my ass then he struck me hard.  I know I squirmed and let out breathy noises.  I really try to breath and take as much as possible.  His fingers pushed between my legs and felt my sex.  I was already growing wet and we’d only just started. He positioned the crop up against my clit and moved it back and forth in rapid succession.  It teased my clit so much.  There isn’t enough room between my thighs for any big strikes so I relaxed and pushed out my ass to give Daddy more access. 

His fingers pushed against my clit and rubbed hard.  I moaned into the tabletop.  Next, I felt and heard something different, something new. The sound was light. It was oh so stingy. He was relentless with the swatting implement.  At one point I was close to my breaking point and said,”No please, no Daddy.” Whimpering to him and hoping he’d stop. 

“You’re asking the wrong person, Daddy’s not here.” I had no idea what he meant, I just wanted the stinging to stop.  The cheeks of my ass were getting most of the onslaught and I was close to crying.  

Again I said,”Please Daddy, please no more!” 

“Daddy’s not here, Daddy is the nice one.” He said as he continued to beat my ass with the stingy thing.  “You know how to properly beg for what you want, slave. Or do you no longer want to be my slave?” What? Wait. I did? Oh yes! I did know. It finally occurred to me, my proper protocol.

“Please Sir…please Sir!” I said.  My voice quavered. Pitiful little voice.

“That’s better, slave.” The stinging stopped, thank god. He moved to my side and roughly lifted my head by my hair.  I looked up at him and he kissed me.  I clung to his lips like a castaway on a sinking ship.  Our connection, his lips, these were my saviors right then. “You know what that was, don’t you?”  I shook my head.  “That was the stingy toy you bought for Goddess.” He showed me the toy.  It was a crop with a long handle and a plastic red hand for the swatting end.  I had bought it to tease Goddess and now he was using it on me.

“Lift yourself up.” He said.  I raised up on my forearms, my breasts only slightly on the table.  He chose a different crop this time.  It felt like a crop but slightly different.  It was less stingy, easier on my skin.  He peppered my back with a light smattering of hits.  He focused some stronger strikes on my shoulders which felt almost like a massage.  I loved that.  

After some time spent using the second crop he switched to his heavy flogger.  This flogger is well oiled leather so it feels very heavy on the skin.  He used it mainly on my ass.  The tops of my asscheeks took many hard hits.  It hits so heavily that it felt like I was being punched with it. Each strike forced out a blast of breath and a staccato sound from me. Wetness from my pussy coated the insides of my thighs. He stopped for a moment and rubbed his hard cock against my heat emitting ass.  “See what you do to me?” He said.  I pushed back against him.  I wanted him inside me so badly.  He teased me with his body pushed up against mine, his hands pushing up under my chest to grab my breasts.  I moaned shamelessly for him.  

He continued flogging me.  My back and ass took the heat.  Finally he rested.  I could hear his labored breathing.  It is quite a workout to flog and beat someone like that.  He untied me from the bar and grabbed the rope at my wrists.  He pulled me unceremoniously down the hall to our bedroom. I saw rive let’s of sweat running down his back.  “Get on the bed.” He said as he wiped the sweat from his brow.  He untied me and said, “Keep your arms out on the bed, do not move them. Eyes closed.”  After being tied for so long, he knew all I ached for was to touch him.  Damn it, I thought.  I could have cried right then.  I wanted connection. “Legs spread, knees bent.”  He mounted the bed with his cock against my pussy. Connection, I would get. 

To be continued…