Tea and Crumpets…or Pain and Suffering

Over the weekend Mr. D and I had several sessions of play. Each was different from the others. At different times, Mr. D used his bare hand, the cane, a riding crop and his heavy flogger on me. The cane he used in a rhythmic way. Tap, tap, tap then snap! Tap, tap, tap then snap! The tapping lulls me and primes my skin for what’s to come. It pulls some blood to the surface for the heavier strikes afterward. The bare handed spankings, oh how I love them. He had my ass cheeks nice and rosy. He gave me his hand to feel, it was warm to the touch. With bare hands, both the giver and the receiver feel the sting. I like the equality of that.

The last thing he used on me was the flogger. He whipped me with the falls of the flogger on my ass cheeks, my thighs and on my back. He swings the flogger up and over to hit the top of the ass and then reverses his swing to come up from below. The second swing brings the falls in contact with my thighs and the very tender crease between thigh and ass cheek. It is very sensitive there. He had me jumping.

At the end of the weekend as Mr. D and I were settling down for sleep, I told him that I was a bit off this weekend with my pain management. That sounds an odd way to say it but I think that’s about right, now that I’ve had some time to think. I didn’t do a very good job managing the pain. A couple different times during play, it felt really stingy and biting. I couldn’t properly get my head into the right space. I didn’t expect to go into subspace because we weren’t playing long enough at any time for that. But I usually settle down into a place where the pain is a catalyst for passion. This is the part of being a Pain Slut that I love.

Pain has an effect on me no matter what; whether I like it and want it, whether I’m willing or not. Mr. D does several things to me in the heat of passion that will make me cringe and cry. But they also make me gush. I’m learning that being a Pain Slut doesn’t mean you love and want the pain all the time. Many times, it hurts and I run from the pain. Still, he can see that it is working. This is why I’m not in charge. I’d probably run from the pain way more than I should, ha!

Once, during our play, I tried to use willpower to push myself into subspace. I wanted to slip into that place where the pain stops being stingy and I start loving it. Please, please, let me slip away! I tried to push my mind into that floating place, but it was not to be. It can’t be forced.

Edge play is an odd thing. I don’t have enough experience to understand. Daddy has a lot more than me and sees a lot more of where I’m at and how I am throughout a scene. On Sunday, I told Daddy, the pain felt stingier and just hurt this weekend. I suppose I could be female and say it was because I’m on my period but that’s a cop out. Whether with emotions or in physical play, I need to learn better how to let go. I want so much to explore the edge. 

I want him to push me physically and emotionally. I want to be thrown into subspace by his fierceness and his delivery of pain. But if I whine and whimper and can’t take it, I’m not giving him much of a reason to go there. He is a protective Daddy after all.

One day at a time, one step at a time. Oh, impatience, I am your fool.

Understanding Orgasms

It is very likely I had an orgasm with Mr. D a couple days ago. Is it bad that I don’t know for sure? Is that possible? I think it is. When I’m with him the things he does and the way he makes me feel are incredibly intense. Let me see if I can explain properly. To begin with, when I masturbate, it is a slow process of warming up from a state of being cold, so to speak. It is usually late, I’ve had a long day and I want a release before I go to bed. I put on a porn video, or these days I close my eyes and think of certain scenarios with Daddy. I think of him showing me off, using me in ways we don’t do yet, or dominating me. I end up with him commanding me to cum. I think of his voice in my head and I work my clit with one finger while rolling a nipple with my other hand. The sensation is very pointed and direct. There are no other stimuli or distractions. The pleasure builds slowly and I can feel it deepen over the period of time. Finally, near the end, I feel the tensing and tightening of the muscles and the orgasm approaches. I keep the same pace, I increase Daddy’s voice in my head and then finally I feel myself peak over the edge. I’ve timed myself and this process takes about 8-10 minutes if I’m watching porn or 15-18 minutes if I rely on my own mind.

So, I think it’s fair to say that cumming is not a fast thing for me. It takes time to build the tension and reach the culmination. Now, the feelings involved during sex with Mr. D are entirely different. My focus is split. It is actually in many places. My mind is focused on him. My reactions are part of the play of our lovemaking. He touches me and I react to that touch. His hands on me, his lips on me, all heighten my desire and the feelings within my body and mind. It is a sensation explosion that dwarfs my own masturbation technique such that I can’t properly relate them to each other. There is no comparison. With Mr. D the pleasure can skyrocket me from completely cold to an inferno in seconds. He can grab my clit with his lips and tongue and have my body shaking with tremors instantly. So, how do I equate the two? How do I say I haven’t achieved the pinnacle of pleasure with him when he sends me through wave upon wave of erotic pleasure in so many different ways?

I need to learn the difference between having an orgasm during solo sex and how to do so with a partner. I see that the two are be completely different. This is where my thought has been focused on the subject. Friday night, I think I learned something more. Mr. D had me pinned to the bed, my legs spread wide. He told me to open my sex for him. His mouth and tongue lassoed my clit and he began to suck hard and rhythmically. My feet dug in and the sensations he created had me pushing up off the bed. His fingers began to fuck me and soon after that he probed my ass. After moistening the way into my tight puckered hole, he fucked me with his fingers in both the front and the back simultaneously. While doing this his mouth stayed attached to my clit. I was convulsing and clawing the bed. It was beyond any level of intensity I’ve felt before. I was singularly focused on the pleasure he created and my body was shaking with the supreme level of the sensations. I felt my body convulse in much the same way it does when I cum by myself. But here’s the difference, I was convulsing and crying out and yet there wasn’t that build up I expect, the way it happens prior to having an orgasm. There wasn’t a bulid up because the level of intensity had already started from such a high place. When Mr. D finally stopped and pulled his fingers out of me, my body was still convulsing and experiencing the after effects of the intense onslaught that had just overtaken me. To me, that seems truly like an orgasm, just a different kind.

So, let me know what you think. I’m very interested to know if anyone else has experienced different kind of orgasms like this or had experience with pleasure being felt in differing levels of intensity like I described.

So Much

 I have so much to share and the feeling of needing to get it all down is pressing.  I find if I don’t write it while it is fresh in mind then it flutters away on the winds.

This past weekend was my one year anniversary with Mr. D.  One year since meeting him and opening the door wide to a world of exploration with him.

I posted two poems on Saturday.  The Becoming Us poem was Mr. D’s gift to me on our anniversary.  I was so touched and filled with emotion at his beautiful words.  Usually, when he writes, I hold those words close to my heart for a while keeping them private.  At some point, the need to share them here grows greater than my need to cherish them in my own privacy.  When Mr. D sat me down to write on Saturday, I thought I would write of Friday night.  What came out, however, was a poem.  That was the other poem I posted Saturday, Falling.  Once, those words were on the page it seemed fitting to publish the two together.

Tonight Mr. D asked me what I meant in the first part of Falling because it concerned him. That brought something to mind for me about poetry.  When I write a poem, I want to share words and emotions in a different way than prose.  Rather than telling a detailed story, in poetry I strive for imagery. When I begin to write, I let it flow out of me unhinged in a flood.  Afterwards, I read through and hone the language and the imagery.  I have no idea how others do it nor do I have any training. I allow raw feeling with poetry.  When I edit it, I usually remove the wordiness.  I want it distilled to the raw sense, no wordy explanation to mire the flow.

What can happen with this method, clearly, is my meaning can be up to interpretation.  It can mean several things exactly because I’ve stripped it down.  That is what happened here.

I wrote that I had fallen.  I fell in love with Mr. D a year ago.  I wrote that I continue to fall.  Recently, I’ve felt a resurgence of being in love with him.  Our love has deepened and taken on more colors of the spectrum for me. I likened the falling to an endless well. Sometimes, I slow in the descent and feel at peace, content, our relationship as a comfort. The floor rises up and bouys me. No longer am I falling.  But then something happens, some event or nuance and again I feel the falling sensation again. The thing about falling in love, just like any falling, is that it has fearsome qualities.  At one moment, falling can be a thrill like flying but then it turns and becomes a fearful falling like jumping off a cliff.  There is risk involved especially for those of us that have been hurt before. Experience is a quirky thing, it can show us oh so brightly where our scars are located.

In the poem I said that fear is my comfort.  Rather than running from it, I have made the conscious decision to embrace it. I’m past running from my fears.  I did that.  It didn’t get me anywhere good.  So, these days, if It comes down to fight or flight then I am putting my toes on the line.  Whatever Mr. D and this life of ours together brings, I’m taking it. I love that he pushes my buttons.  I want to feel every damned emotion he brings me.  It is an incredible gift I’ve been given to share myself with this man, with this Dominant man.  I’m not going to leave half that gift on the table because I’m scared.  

I want to share every emotion with him.  I want to submit fully to him. I want to orgasm for him.  I want to let down every wall buried inside me.  I want it scary and raw and completely open. 

Image by You Mee used with permission through CC 2.0 and found here https://m.flickr.com/#/photos/httpwwwyoumeflickrcom/8096549465/

Lessons

Daddy is teaching me.  My last post took too much on myself.  He set me straight.  It is not my choice.  It is his choice to tease me and torment me as much as he wants, when and where he wants.

I am completely addicted to surrendering to him.  I love to serve those I love and I have a strong need to please people in general but these traits take on a whole new facet in my interactions with Mr. D. I hear the tone in his voice that brooks no dissent and I immediately surrender to his desire.

But true submission takes time and practice.  I want to submit further and more completely to him.  I am willing to put myself, my own ego, aside and follow his lead for I hunger to go where he goes and dance this dance with him.

As Mr. D told me today, we will be molded in this crucible together.   Yes, please.  This is my deepest desire.