Why is it when I’ve had a trying day that I want Him? I want him to hold me and love me. Also, though, I want him to beat me. I want the pain to bloom across my ass. I want the rushing heat to banish any other thought. I want the world beyond his reach to cease. I want to feel and live for only him.

That is what I want.

Time Begins Again

It’s like I’ve been in a coma. I’ve been submerged in Vanilla life. Moving, parenting, more moving, unpacking, cleaning, feeding people, walking dogs, all that BS.

Mr. D has been home two nights since moving back from Texas. Both nights I’ve been sore and exhausted. My body is beat up from moving and boxes. But I still wanted him. The first one we fucked. Short and sweet but a reconnection. Then he was gone the weekend.

Last night again, tired and sore but needy. I was need for him.

“What do you want slut?” He asked.

“I want Daddy to fuck me.” I replied.

“How do you ask?” He asked.

“Please fuck me Daddy.” Simple and direct.

“Hands flat on the bed.” I complied. God, how my heart sang with that command.

Except. I had to oust the dog from the bed. Then I couldn’t move without pain so used my hands as leverage and grabbed one of his in error.

“What did I say?” Crap, I had disobeyed.

“To keep my hands on the bed.” No use justifying my actions. I disobeyed.

“Use those hands to present your breasts.” I held them together for him high and tight.

“Count.” Damn, he really means it and he knows the counting adds another element.

Ten strikes altogether. Five on each breast. The pain, the fucking, in tandem. God, I was in heaven.

Pain that wasn’t my rebellious body. Pain for us, pain for Him. Fuck, I was finally home. Time begins again.

Pain Slut


I want to write about pain. I suppose it is on my mind because I’ve been struggling with emotional stuff this week and that’s an entirely different kind of pain than the physical kind we play with in the lifestyle. Oddly enough, the physical pain and the mind games of D/s tend to allow me (and I think for Mr. D too in a different way) to release a lot of pent up stress. I’m not going to go into the science of it, though that is interesting in itself, but I have learned that pain can be valuable for release.

Before Mr. D, I had not really experienced much real play with pain. I had some spankings and some flogging but not anything in depth. Mr. D chooses ways to inflict pain that I would not choose myself. He likes the stingy variety sometimes. He likes predicaments. He watches me squirm and is entertained as I try to get out of the situation. I think it thrills him to feel the play of power and watch the workings of my mind trying to escape.

When he has me in a predicament and I’m feeling the pain of his whipping or slapping or that $&@!! little paddle, I have the strangest duality in my mind. I desperately want the play. We’ve waited all week to be together and I ache for him. I also want the power exchange and feel the need for that build until he chooses to display his power and starts a scene. But, and here’s the predicament, its painful! I know, you’re thinking, “Well, no shit Sherlock, that’s what you signed up for.” Exactly! The thing is, I want it badly but it is real physical pain. No matter how much I want it, it hurts and my base instinct is to run from it.

When we’re in the throes of a scene, I’ll squirm and try to get away from the horrible stingy thing that is attacking me. I’ll try so hard not to cover myself and not to whimper but eventually it gets too painful and I break down. I tell him it’s too much, I whimper for him to stop. I beg him but I don’t use my safe word. Recently, Mr. D will call me a liar. He’ll quietly say, “Liar. You tell me you don’t want this and you cry to make it stop but I can feel your wetness and your body is telling me something entirely different than your words.” That gets me every time.  I’m not lying but my body makes me a liar.  The mind fuck of that and of being called a liar just stirs me to no end.

This is why I think I must be a pain slut. My body wants the pain and the release no matter what my mind wants. Against all instincts that pain is a bad thing and I should run, my body responds. I thrill for his power. I thrill at the shock and the fear. Something about it sets me off every time without fail.

Even when I don’t slip into subspace, I get wet and my body responds. In subspace, the pain becomes something else. The fear and desire to run from it disappears. I just want more. I want it to never end.

Image from Pixavay through CC0 public domain Public Domain

Switching Gears

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Last weekend, I arrived at Mr. D’s later than planned and concerned because Mr. D had had a rough night and I didn’t know why.  When I arrived, I felt bad that I was late and he had to wait to eat because of my lateness.  I also wanted to hear about what was happening in his life.  He let me know his mom was having problems and we talked about it for a bit then we went to eat.

Upon arriving home, he said we should get into warm clothes because it was freezing in the house.  We Californians are not always prepared for the sudden onset of winter.  Warm clothes have to be dug out of closets or in my case purchased.  We have to figure out how our heaters actually work, replace filters that haven’t been used all year because it’s usually warm…you know, the things other people do as a matter of survival.  We’re a bit spoiled and we know it. 🙂 Mr. D said, “Let’s go into the living room and relax a while.”

I was in a quandary though because under my dress I was wearing a sexy babydoll that I had worn especially for him.  So, I went into the bedroom to change but instead of donning warm clothes I simply shed my dress so that I could present him with his gift. When I came into the living room he seemed quite pleased with it.  He had me turn slowly and he felt the soft material on my body as I turned.

I had yet to greet him properly so then I knelt before him.  I scooted up between his knees and wrapped my arms around his middle.  I laid my cheek on his belly and held onto him.  I love the feeling of submission when I kneel to him.  We stayed in that position for a time but having me kneel to him always seems to escalate our sexual awareness of each other.  It is such a lovely side effect of submitting to my Dominant.  Quickly after that I had his cock in my mouth.  I love having him in my mouth so much.  He requires me to ask permission now.  As soon as he is in my hand I want to have him in my mouth.  But it is his choice and his lead so I must ask.  I feel his dominance and know he is slowly training me because I used to be able to suck him whenever I liked but now I must ask properly using full descriptive sentences.  I am also slowly losing my shyness at saying such things out loud.  I’m so glad he is training me this way.  I love his control.

In short order, Mr. D asked me to rise of follow him.  He stopped in the hall and indicated that I should enter the empty spare room of the house.  He recently put his spanking bench in that room.  The picture above is his bench.  He made it himself.  It is very comfortable to use.  I know I could eventually be on this bench a long time.  I hadn’t heard him clearly and I was a bit out of sorts from the abrupt change in action.  With the concerns on my mind from earlier in the evening and thinking we were to relax, I was a bit off I guess.  I waited in the hall so I could see him come back out of the bedroom if I had misheard him and he wondered where I was.

Shortly, he came back from the bedroom with items in hand and ushered me into the room.  He motioned for me to undress and pushed me nude up against the cold wall.  The shock of the cold and his strength served to force the air out of my lungs in short shallow bursts.  He took his flogger in hand and I noticed he’d shortened the tails by the way he gripped it.  He held my neck to the wall and flogged my breasts each in quick succession.  One side then the other received the torture of the tails.  Right before he started he told me I was a good girl or a good slut, I’m not sure which.  Either way, he was letting me know that this wasn’t punishment, it was play.  My nipples, especially the left one, was on fire so quickly.  It hurt so much.  I couldn’t get my mind in the right place.  It just hurt and I held on as long as I could.  We’ve gotten to a place in our play where I can beg him and tell him “No Daddy, No” and the play still continues.  I can express my anguish but not have him stop.  True to form, I started begging and whimpering and he still continued.  He stopped a couple times for breathers but that was it.  I felt disconnected from him.  I’m not sure why.  It could have been several things, perhaps I hadn’t let go of the concerns of his family or my lateness, perhaps it was the cold or the bright light in the new room, or maybe it was just that we were both in different head spaces.  I’m not sure.   But I do know that I did not slip under into the ‘subspacey’ place I usually go with him.  Because of that, I felt all the pain just as it was…painful.

After the breast flogging he had me mount the spanking bench.  I love the feel of it.  The padding and the spacing of it is very comfortable.  He put in a butt plug and commanded me to keep it in me.  As soon as he pushed it in, I just knew the thing was going to slide right back out.  I despaired.  In that position and with the toy lubed as it was, I had no way of holding onto it.  How do people do that?  I seriously tried but the thing plopped right out of me both times.  Mr. D held my neck to protect me and keep my in place while he flogged my back and my ass.  The sensations of being flogged on my back were incredible.  I loved it.  I could have stood that treatment for a long time.  He would work his way along my back and down to my ass.  As the tips of the flogger tails reached the sweet spot right below my ass cheeks I would yelp with the smarting bite of it.  All-in-all I loved the flogging on my whole backside.  I would tense then relax then tense again.  When I tensed, that’s when the damned plug would come out. I loved feeling him working the flogger over me and in my mind I saw how he placed the tails over my skin in a very calculated way.  I really think I’d love to flog someone and get into the science and technique of it.  As the receiver, sometimes my mind slips into his headspace a bit.  I feel how he warms up the skin, lulls my mind and body and then comes in for the surprise stingy hits in devised angles across my body so that there is a buildup in sensation.  I love the skill in that.  It impresses the heck out of me.

As for why I wasn’t in the right headspace, I have ideas but nothing really concrete.  It seems to be a connection thing.  When he punished me for not kneeling to him he threw me into subspace in an instant.  The same thing happened when he kept commanding me to be silent and when he surprised me by pushing me up against the wall in the bedroom when I was on my way to the shower.  There is a definite connection when either of us have strong feelings or actions.  They say the mind is the most important sexual organ and I’d have to agree.  When my focus is off then so is the connection.  I don’t think it has anything to do with foreplay or location or temperature.  If he’s in my head, everything else disappears.

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

Letting Loose


Last night was a night out for myself and Mr. D. He bought tickets for us and another couple to attend a costume party at a local dungeon. He is new to the area and had not been to any of the dungeons here. I have only been to one as a guest to see what it was like. This one that we visited last night is a very nice club as well as a dungeon. The equipment and the ambiance was very nice, very professional and classy compared to the one I had visited before. We had some drinks and watched a couple performances. One was a woman who tied her partner in suspension ropes. She then used a Taser on his privates. Ouch! You should have seen him jump in the ropes. I don’t know if it’s true but it seems like female dominants can be more ruthless than the men I’ve seen. I’ll have to think about what the difference is, perhaps it’s because the only woman who took a paddle to me did it with full gusto and just laughed when it caused me pain and made me jump.   The second scene was more an act. The theme of the party we attended was Disney Destructed. So, the guests were in costume and the act we watched was a Cinderella and the Wicked Witch act. I enjoyed the flogging but the acting part went a bit long.

It was fun dressing up, Mr. D wore a sinful Pirate costume. I was a slutty Minnie Mouse. I had planned to be Minnie Mouse road kill. I was going to paint tire dreads across my arms and bosom, like I got run over. I’m so glad I didn’t do that. As it was, a half hour into the evening, my makeup painted nose ended up smeared across my cheek and Mr. D’s nose. I can’t keep my lips off that man!

The best part of the time at the dungeon was when I played with Mr. D. He took me into one of the more private rooms. There was a leather padded wall on one side of the room. He pushed me up against this wall and his hand traveled up my thigh under my skirt. He pushed my skirt up and had me bend over a bit. With my full ass, my skirt stayed hiked up where he pushed it. He also bared my back and unhooked my bra. Mr. D had brought his flogger and a paddle. The flogger, I absolutely love. It is the thuddy kind and he knows how to wield it very well. The paddle, well, I already have a love hate relationship with that stingy thing. I am learning that I can stand thuddy for much longer than I can the stinging bite of that paddle. Mr. D flogged my back and buttocks and thighs. I was very excited to be under Mr. D’s power and feeling the sensations of his ministrations in a public setting. While he was flogging me, people ducked in and then left seeing that the room was occupied. It heightened everything for me. When he started using the paddle, I really had to grit my teeth and feel the pain of the sting bite into my ass. I so want to please my Daddy. I want to take as much as I possibly can. I danced around and Mr. D told me to grab the sides of the wall padding to bear down into the pain. I wanted to run from it. Afterwards, when Mr. D and I were talking about the scene, he said he loved watching me dance around and try to escape that wicked little paddle. I’m sure he got an eye full of the fishnet stockings and high heels I was wearing with my costume. It got me so hot to dress sexy for him.

Finally, when I didn’t feel I could take it anymore I whimpered, “Daddy, stop, oh please stop.” Daddy was good to me and stopped then. He said it was our first time in public and he wants to take things slowly with me. Funny, in the moment I was at once so grateful and also a bit let down. I really seem to want Mr. D to push my boundaries. I’m glad he’s so wise and wants to take appropriate steps into this process. I feel very safe traveling this path with him.

A few minutes later, after we joined our friends, he asked me if I was okay. I let him know I was. I seem to go into myself sometimes after we play at something new. I was taking inventory of my feelings on what had transpired. I hadn’t called my safe word but he chose to stop when I begged for him to stop. Part of me really wanted him to stop. Part of me didn’t want him to stop at all.

I am usually quiet and not much of a dramatic person. I typically don’t like overly emotional or dramatic outbursts. I have taken care of too many people in my life that didn’t have any control over their emotions. The flip side of that dynamic is that I have become less demonstrative with my own emotions. You could almost call me a stoic. The alcoholic/co-dependent dynamic I ended up a part of only worsened my usual bent toward dampened emotions. Since healing myself from that destructive relationship and growing in myself, I have become more comfortable with my own emotions. I have thought about it and I would like to use our D/s play to further that healing. When he was beating me with that paddle, I really wanted to let loose with my feelings and actions. Mr. D is so caring and I felt that doing that without us talking about it would not really be fair. We haven’t been together that long but he already clearly reads me. I think this is something that we’ll grow into over time.   I truly want him to push me past my current limits. I could be wrong and this may be crossing into dangerous territory but some part of me really wants to explore this and I think there is something to be learned from the exploration.

The final piece of the puzzle is that when I had visited the first dungeon many years ago, I had watched a Daddy/baby girl couple play. She was intoxicating to watch. He beat the hell out of her with all sorts of implements. He even used horse curry combs and brought blood out. But I was completely mesmerized by her cries and her little girl femininity. In that pain, in that moment, she was utterly mesmerizing. There’s something about that draws me.