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.

Daddy baby girl

I have a fear surrounding the Daddy/baby girl dynamic.  It’s related to the vulnerability I am starting to feel as I open up to Mr. D more.  The deeper we delve into the dynamic the more I feel a connection with my ‘little’.  It is a little disconcerting.

I am only recently a baby girl.  I am a submissive.  There’s no changing that.  It is me, always and unchangeable.  The baby girl part though is new.   I feel it swirling inside me like ink dropped in water.  I won’t ever be the kind of baby girl that plays with glitter and dolls.  It’s just not me.  I am a woman.  A sexual woman from head to toe and this is what I wanted to be from the beginning.  Mr. D and I have a friend who is 24 years old.  He is part of our larger family.  He doesn’t hang out with people his age that I know of.  He hangs out with us.  He is more adult than anyone else his age I’ve met. This was me at that age.  Kids bored me.  Adults had the goods.

The part of the baby girl life that I love is being His.  Being fully under his control and under his protection.  I feel the touch of his care in many ways. He loves me but it goes much farther than that.  I sense his care and his planning in everything he does.  He tries things on me, tests the water, works the puzzle of me from every angle.

The part that has me concerned is that he will succeed at breaking into that vault inside me.  I know it’s there.  I feel it when I start to melt into the baby girl and allow myself to feel little with him.  It’s fear, I know.  I am afraid that if I drop every wall and my little girl comes out all the way that he won’t respect the woman I am any longer.

Basic fears, right? Right.  I know where it comes from.  I remember specifically.  My ex and I had been apart a while.  We broke up and I moved into my own place.  It felt great to be alone and free.  I loved my life. Then we started talking again and starting seeing each other again.  It was different than it had been before. We were not in the same dynamic.  I felt strong, in control. I could see how my control governed our relationship, our dynamic and he was drawn to that. I had the strength of my independence around me like a warm blanket.  Then things progressed and I allowed myself to fall for him again. I allowed myself to need him again.  I remember a specific conversation my ex and I had at that point.  He had disappointment in his voice and said, “What happened to you?  You were so strong when we started seeing each other again and now you’re not. I liked you that way better.”  This was before we got married and I look back and see that moment and know it was part of our downfall.  After that, he had control and I was lost. Eventually I was trapped and couldn’t get out. So, what does this mean to me now?

It doesn’t have the sting it did.  I know I am generally a stronger person now.  I have accepted my submissiveness and know it doesn’t equate to weakness.  I  have also chosen a relationship where the power dynamic is clear.  He has the control and wants it.  As a Daddy, he also wants to protect me and fulfill that role.  Allowing my little girl out to be vulnerable and need his love and protection should be safe and will create a deepening of our dynamic.  Intellectually I see that.  Emotionally, I feel myself melt into him but recently I feel my insides tighten up in fear sometimes.

I need to let go in those moments.  Let go and let my little girl worship his Daddy side in all its glory.  Jump off the cliff without a parachute and have faith that he will still respect me and hold me during that fall towards accepting his power and my submission further.


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. 

We Interrupt this Blog…


I am on a vacation with limited connectivity but I’ve had time to write, that has been very nice. I’ve been away from my Love and will see him tomorrow. I’m giddy knowing I’ll see him soon. I wanted to write about the weekend of the violet wand and what we had done and experienced afterwards. I was too busy the week following to write it down. But, then we had a hiccup from the last post. You see, my main emphasis in writing this blog is to give me a place to process my experiences and feelings about them and to give Mr. D an avenue inside his girl. I’ve never had a relationship like this. I need to communicate more and it seems that writing has allowed me a deeper way of doing that.

So, my last post, about how we slipped over the edge and I experienced some negative feelings really brought some things home for both myself and Mr. D. Instead of writing more for you, dear anonymous reader, I ended up writing and talking to Mr. D in email about what happened. I suddenly wished that I was not on this vacation and that I was there with him. One conversation in his arms ended up being 4-5 emails back and forth. That kind of communication is not as easy. It is so much easier in person.

The culmination of those emails is that he cares for me very much and it is not okay for me to bear those feelings the way I did. I need to speak the hell up and let him know where I’m at if that happens again. It’s not fair for me to keep that to myself. He cares too much to let me feel that way and I care too much in exchange to keep it from him. Also, perhaps we’ll join a D/s support group in the area. Blogging is cathartic for me but until some of my readers choose to give some feedback it’s not much for reciprocal information. I think talking to others in the lifestyle would benefit us. We are both now in uncharted territory, which is exciting but also a little unsettling when something unexpected happens.

I really can’t wait to see him tomorrow. To hold him and talk with him and to feel him wrapped around me. Tick tock, counting the hours.untitled

Skirting the Edge


I am learning that when you choose to play with the edge, you will invariably go over that edge sometimes. Later in the evening, after the costume party, was one of those times.

Let me preface this post with this…I had a rough week prior to our edge play. I had planned to be with Mr. D for the two nights prior to the party and it did not happen. My ex is still having trouble letting me go and Mr. D is the first relationship I’ve had since then. Needless to say, helping my ex in his healing has been an added stressor on my new relationship with Mr. D. I can handle it and have been rising above but it had worn me down somewhat this past week.

At the end of the night at the party, Mr. D took me into one of the rooms and asked me what I wanted. After playing and watching other people play, I just wanted him. I kissed him with the full need of him on my lips. He pulled back and said, “Oh, that’s what my baby wants.” with a wicked smile. He grabbed my hand and we collected the other couple and went home. Of course, there was the drive home and everyone was hungry so it was a while before we could be alone. That pent up passion was just simmering there in the background.

When we finally made it to the bedroom, I was more than eager to jump on him. I was still in costume. Mr. D had made some comments about wanting to rip the fishnets off me so I had left on the heels and stockings. He pulled back the covers on the bed and had me lie down fully clothed. Then he sat in his big chair, like a king, and said, “Now, you can take off whatever you like while I watch.” I peeled off my red corset top and then next my bra. He had decided he liked the stockings so wouldn’t rip them off me…I was quietly thankful of that. Those had taken a while to find the right size and they weren’t cheap, I know, girly issues. Anyhow, I continued to strip. At this juncture, I executed a completely dorky move and pulled my skirt off by throwing my legs in the air and got caught half upside down in the process. Have I mentioned that I can be a train wreck in the strip tease department? Seriously, I can be downright uncoordinated and this was a time when that skill presented itself in full form. Mr. D looked at me askance and said, “Is this what I get?” Yeah, I blushed eight shades of red. Attempting a recovery, I quickly stripped off everything else I had on. We had to move past the train wreck man!

I stood before him and leaned over him in his big chair, I needed those sexy lips on mine again. When I came up for air, he indicated that he wanted me on my knees before him. I obeyed his request and kneeled before him between his thighs. I took his cock in my mouth, I love sucking on him. He is no small man and I’m proud that I’m capable of pleasing him this way. I love the feel of him on my lips and tongue and in my throat. He loves pushing deep into my throat. I do my best each time to push further and am learning how to take breaths when I can so that my technique improves. He’s the first person to push me this way but I really enjoy the struggle of it and the control he has when he does that. I felt so subservient in this position. I was at his feet, his cock deep in my throat and I could look up to him and watch him watching me. Locking my gaze with his while doing what I was doing was at first uncomfortable. I’m not used to being watched in that moment. But I forced myself to look up at him, it made it hotter for me to feel his eyes on me.

After a while, he had me rise and turn around with my back to him. Grasping my hips, he worked me down onto his shaft. With my hands on the arm rests, I was able to ride him in the chair. I had been aching for him all night and the feel of him inside me in this position was spectacular. I could feel his full length slide so easily all the way inside. It was a perfect position for access. After a few strokes, I noticed a burn in my thighs. Right then, I gave myself a squat routine to do at the gym the next time I am there. Damn, I am not in shape for that position. I switched around a bit. One hand on the bed and one on the chair, it worked for a while longer but then I rose from his lap when my thigh muscles were giving out.   He had me lie on the bed and mounted me. I love the pressure of him pushing me down. I looked into his eyes to see the darkness there. He had asked me to look into his eyes at the beginning of the night. “Yes,” he said, “you see it there.” It is utterly intense that I can see the darkness and intensity come over his beautiful light blue eyes. It is as if a shade is pulled. His normal loving, kind personae slips below and a darkly dominant one rises to the surface. He pushed into me all the way to the hilt. He began to ride me in earnest but just as I closed my eyes and arched my head back with the pleasure of it he slowed and stopped. Ugh, maddening! I am in need, I am desperate, and so I looked up at him.

“What do you want baby girl?” He was toying with me.

“Please Daddy, I want you.” He knows what I want, damn it!

“How do you want me, baby girl?” Dripping with feigned calm and tolerance. Torture, pure torture.

“I want you hard and fast, Daddy. Yes, I do, I want it hard and fast!” Please just fuck the hell out of me and stop the delay!

Then he pushed into me deep and hard and gave no mercy. Yes, yes, yes, that is what I want, that is what my body cries out for when I see him every time I’ve been away. It is something carnal, something visceral and animal. My cavewoman psyche takes over. Just grunt and pant and take it deeper and harder and finally give me your seed! During this wild ride is when I saw the darkness coalesce in his eyes. He growled, he told me in no uncertain terms how I am his, that I’m his toy, his slut, and that I am for him. This, right now, is for his pleasure not mine. God help me, but I love being used like that. I wanted him to take it all, to use me up completely until there was nothing left of me. He leaned up and arched his back, presenting himself to my eyes. He is magnificent when we does that. The power and the raw masculinity mows down the vestiges of my control. The added bonus of his languid stretching is it repositions him in my groin. He comes back from that stretch into a deeper thrust. I knew I was in for a deep pummeling, then. He fell upon me, piercing me deep and looking into me. Thrusting with his manhood and his eyes simultaneously, he questioned,

“What do you want slut?” I can’t think, I have no cogent thought, yet I must speak.

“Oh Daddy! Nnnhmm” Not good enough. Speak!

“Want do you want slut?” More pointed this time.

“I want your come, I want you, I want you to pin me to the bed!” Ugh, just ugh!

Then he pushed down on me, crushing me under his weight, thrusting deeper and harder and faster into me. My body sang to his music, my mind retreated. He put his burly hand on my neck and squeezed, not enough to choke me but enough to feel his control, to know viscerally that I have no say at this point. His base animal need had dominion. I was nothing but a means to his end. As he fucked me, he growled at me. I don’t remember the words. I do remember having to answer. I remember feeling and hearing the words squeak out of my compressed throat in a high pitched staccato. Up until this point, I was completely into the music he was playing. I had full intentions and need for this e-ticket ride. But at this moment, something changed. I fell out of rhythm, or my mind did anyway. My body still felt the pleasure but in my mind, I started holding on…bearing it. I saw that he was so close to orgasm and I wanted him to achieve it badly. I wanted a perfect culmination to an intense session but my mind started rebelling against the control. No cogent thoughts came of it, I just suddenly felt bereft. That’s really the only way I can explain it. I felt unloved and bereft. Just then, with his hand on my throat, growling to me, he pushed deep and deeper and came hard. I looked up at his magnificence and was so elated that I had stuck it out those last moments. I love hearing him orgasm, he shouts out and shakes and finally crushes me under him.   It is such a gift. I know then that I please him utterly in that release.

As soon as he came though, I needed him off. My groin was throbbing. My thigh joints were screaming. I had to close my legs. He rolled off, panting and catching his breath, and I immediately curled into a protective ball. I was hurting. I felt like you feel when someone has hurt your feelings. That sad feeling that you are nothing and that you don’t count in the world. It seems, somewhere in the midst of our play, I had felt truly used. I knew better. His is my Love, he cares for me deeply. I couldn’t go to these dark places unless I had him and his love. This exploration just wouldn’t be possible otherwise. Even, then, he was touching me and asking me if I was okay. Asking me to talk to him. I just couldn’t right then. I was trying to rise through the pain. I needed time. I just needed to be held, you know?

After a while, I felt myself return and I curled up against Mr. D. He was so caring and concerned. We talked. He knew I had had a trying, emotional week and said we need to take this slower during such times. He admonished me for allowing him to continue after I started to feel bad. He said, “You have words for that, you know, silly. You actually chose a second one yourself. You need to use them.” Yes, I have two safe words. One to stop completely and the other one I added just last week was one to slow down and reassess. I felt the second one would be easier for me to use. Sometimes, I bear the pain more than I would normally because I don’t want the scene to stop completely. I felt a ‘slow down’ word might be useful. I have these words for my protection.

So, what are my thoughts on what happened? Even after being admonished and feeling what I felt, I don’t think I would have stopped. We are playing with the edge, mentally and physically. I can call a safe word for either circumstance. Yet, I gained the beautiful end for him but only gave up a few moments of pain. Isn’t that part of submissiveness? It’s not all play. I am truly here for his pleasure. And yes, mine too. A huge part of my pleasure is derived from giving. Giving in sacrifice can be a part of that. So, no, I would not have changed anything really. I know I’m loved. I know he cares. I also know now how important aftercare is for times like that. It is very important to be comforted and brought back down slowly. Then to talk and understand where you went and why.untitled 2