Renewal

A time to prepare. A time to renew. This is exactly what we will be doing in our household. Preparing. Renewing. If I succeed, I will earn a special gift. Louis has helped me prepare. He has removed all of my possessions and locked them away in one of the spare rooms. He alone has the key. He has left me my room, and furnished it with only that which he feels I will need. In doing this, I know that everything available to me will meet his approval. As to furniture, I have a bed and a wooden ladder back chair. I have two closets. One holds three dresses, two pairs of tights, three corsets, one set of boots, one set of slippers and one pair of high heeled black pumps. The other closet contains paddles, canes, cuffs, collars, rope, clips, plugs, vibrators, whips, gags, silk scarves and various other objects.

To prepare, I am not allowed clothing while inside the house. Ever. Even if I have to answer the door. Thankfully, Louis has given me the option to not answer the door if I am alone. I may dress only when I have to leave the house - grocery shopping, church, meeting friends, or going out with Louis.

Louis has placed me in one of the spare bedrooms across the hallway from him. He will not allow me to actually sleep with him until Christmas. This will remind both of us of the joy we find in each others' arms when we can again cuddle together all night. He has attached hooks in various places on my bed and will utilize them at will.

Today, he left for work but not before he gave me a good, hard spanking. He said that he wanted to make sure I felt it all day while I did my work (I'm a writer). While he spanked, he assured me that this was just the beginning. Each morning would begin the same way. He would not ease up just because I might still be tender from the day before. Well, night before as well since he would also be delivering a nightly spanking. Mornings would be with his hand, but nights would be with an implement of his choice. Tonight, he planned to use his belt. I cried. Already my skin was on fire and I knew his words to be true. I would feel this throughout the day. Finally, when I as sobbing and weeping, he stopped. He held me, kissed me and told me to stand.

I wasn't going to be completely naked, he explained. He wanted to make sure that I remembered that I belonged to him. To assure himself that I would remember my place, he placed a chastity device on me. I begged him not to but he ignored my pleas. Then, he looked at me sternly and shook his head. He told me that I had been naughty for questioning his authority (which I had) and because of that, He would add something to the belt. Something that would be sure to remind me that he owned my body. When I saw the metal plug, I wept again and begged forgiveness. He kissed me and told me that Advent was a time of preparation. A reminding of our places. I nodded, agreeing with him.
Now, as I go through my day, I cannot help but be reminded. I can't wait for him to return home and release me. He has promised to use my body, to grant me pleasure, to release me from this enforced chastity. After, of course, he has administered my belt spanking.

I have to admit, I have been very focused today and productive, hoping the hours will fly by. Bless my Man for suggesting a time for renewal.

All about that Bass

During the week He pleasure me everywhere. I am his princess and he treats me with consideration, gentleness, and always sees to my pleasure before his own. Weekends, however, are all about him. And what does he love? You guessed it - Bass - or more specifically, Ass.

 He loves everything about my ass which is why I am not allowed to cover it without permission from Friday after work until Monday morning.









He is allowed to use my ass as he wishes, to display it for his pleasure or for my humiliation, to use any implement on it - his hand, a paddle, a wooden spoon, his belt. The choice is in his hands.





He will plug it; I am not allowed to remove the plug - only he may.






















Best of all, he will fuck it. He is not gentle, not considerate (aside from using lots of lube!). My ass is, literally, his and he will use it as he chooses.

Yes, I can always use a safeword, but why would I do that since I derive as much pleasure from submitting to this lovely man has he does?  Yes, by Monday morning I am tender both inside and out and when I sit at my work desk I remember - vividly - my weekend. And you know what? I can't wait for Friday to come again!

Good Girl

I came home from work late, pissy and tense. Jack threw together dinner so I could relax and sip a glass of wine, but I still bitched, telling how to cook. For heaven's sake, it was only grilled cheese and tomato soup so I really was just bitching to be bitching. I grumbled through dinner and dishes. Finally, he'd had enough. He told me take off my slacks and I gave him lip. about it. Now, he was really finished dealing with me. He did the ONE thing I hate. He took me out to the balcony of our condo and told me to take off my pants. Right then. No more complaints or He'd do it for me which meant he'd tie my hands to the railing and cut them off. I knew this. I had agreed to this. Sometimes, I'm stubborn (duh!) and in my calmer moments can acknowledge this aspect of my personality and make allowances for it. I know he'd follow through because he did once before. Afterwards, not only was my bottom redder than fire, but my new slacks in shreds and I was shamefaced for having disobeyed, bitched and punished outside where, while unlikely but still possible, the neighbors could have witnessed my paddling. 

So, at this point I relented and dropped my dress slacks. He told me how disappointed he was in me. That it was perfectly fine to come one and need to vent but it was not fine to take out my frustrations on him. At this point, I saw what I had done and knew he was right so I agreed with him. I deserved this punishment and vowed to take it like a good girl. He told me to hold on to the railing and I did. He had grabbed the wooden paddle, the one he uses only when I've truly annoyed him. I understood then that I would receive no pleasure from this spanking, not during, not after. I asked what my count was and he said: Until I decide you've had enough.

I also knew what this meant. Meekly, I agreed to this as well. He would spank me until the tension left my body, until I cried. And so he began. I clenched my hands around the metal railing, biting my lip to keep from crying out. The sound of the wood smacking against my bottom and upper thighs was quite loud enough. I was terrified that the neighbors would hear and come out to investigate. Luckily, it was dark and Jack had turned the lights off so it would be difficult for them to see even if they did take a peek. He plasters both cheeks, the sit spot, the upper thighs. Finally, I let go. I slump forward, my body relaxing, tears flowing freely. I hold my emotions tight most of the time, but every so often, I NEED to cry. To release all the tension and wash away the stress of the day, the week. Jack knows this and watches my body carefully. He pushes me, yes, but only when I need to be pushed. He punishes me, yes, but only so far as my consent and need allow. 

He sees the change in me and stops, rubs my bottom and murmurs to me, soothing me now with his words. He tells me that he's proud of me, that he loves me. He tells me that I'm again his Good Girl. 

Spring Break - 7th day

Today marks the 7th day of our Spring Break. Today, I may speak freely. Looking back to Day 1 and then thinking of how I felt this morning when I woke up, I am amazed (as always) by my transformation. When we first arrived I was tense, angry, hesitant, overwhelmed with the stress and worry of various tasks. Now, I feel lighter - not only because I'm sure I've lost a bit of weight but emotionally and spiritually lighter. Yes, I have lost weight due to the fact that I am now getting daily exercise simply by gathering water, herbs, daily walks through the woods, gathering wood for the fire. We are also eating very healthy - natural food, fresh fish, gathered berries and herbs. My digestive system rebelled at this new diet for several days, but now, I feel wonderful.
I told J how I felt and he is pleased. This new attitude happened must faster than last year. My focus is now on simple pleasures - both giving and receiving. As proof of this, let me detail yesterday's events.

We awoke with the sun - no need for clocks here. Since the weather is lovely I relieved myself outside as did J. I poked the fire to life and began boiling water for tea and oatmeal. Once this was prepared, I set the table and served J. While he ate I sat at his feet and began our morning ritual of cock worship. Gently, I cupped his balls and kissed them. Then I ran my tongue up his cock, circling the tip. I heard his spoon clicking against the bowl of oatmeal as I took his manhood into my mouth. He moaned slightly and this sound warmed my body with pleasure. I continued to ease my mouth up and down his length until he finished his meal. Then, he shifted to the side. This is my cue to that he is ready for me to suck in earnest. He placed his hand on my head and guides me. I swallow him as deeply as I can, making sure to fondle his balls. He pushes my head down, my lips meet the base of his cock, and he feeds me his milk. This is the first nourishment I receive each morning. Only after I have ingested this will I eat my oatmeal and drink my tea.

I put the cabin to rights while J goes fishing. Again, this ritual is observed daily. If the cabin is not put in order by the time he returns - which is tricky since the length of time he is gone varies - I am disciplined. This happened the first four days but now I am much more efficient. He came in with two fish, cleaned and ready to be placed in the cool spring water bucket to keep them fresh until dinner time. J inspects the cabin and smiles approvingly. He pulls out the chair and I take my place over his lap. This is my morning spanking - not a discipline, but a ritual. It took me three days before I learned to look forward to this, but now I get wet while cleaning up the cabin, knowing his hand will soon be warming my backside. I brace my hands on the floor and he begins. At first he gently warms up my skin with a series of twenty or more swats to each cheek. I do not count out loud, but in my head. During this stage if he says "Number" I must answer correctly or this daily spanking will become disciplinary.  Then, the real spanking begins. I must break free of myself and this is how J does that. He spanks me until I cry - not cry out - but weep. Then, he rubs my bottom, carries me the bed and makes love to me - gently, carefully. Yesterday, I came as soon as he entered me. I lost count of the number of times he made me cum. Finally, he again finds his pleasure and came inside of me. Once we recovered, he helped me to my feet, held me tight and then we went to the stream for a bath.  The water is still shockingly cold to my system, but I no longer resist the coldness which eases my bottom. Yesterday, you suggested that I complete my yoga and meditation here, by the stream, while you kept watch over me. I did this and found my center. All anxiety and fear left and I was at peace.

Last night, after dinner, you made love to me again - this time using my anus as ritual requires. You took me from behind, squeezing my nipples until I screamed your name and you filled my bottom with your essence. You decided that you were going to add another element to this nightly ritual. I am to be plugged with a medium sized wooden plug. This I must keep in all night and only after my morning spanking will you release it. Your cum is the lubrication for its entry. I cringed a bit but did not object. I'm past that now. I accept your word and obey without question and am pleased to do so. This morning, the plug was a constant reminder of who I am and what I want. Yes, it is uncomfortable but not painful and I find, amazingly, that I am grateful for it.

Spring Break - The Ritual

We do Spring Break a bit differently. No other people, beaches or alcohol, aside from some lovely red wine. No cars. No electricity. No running water aside from the spring fed stream behind the cabin. We "break" from the world and live for two weeks simply and peacefully and as we choose. I look forward to this each year because I  become centered and confident. The first few days are awful, that I will admit, but after that, I am at peace.

To begin,  Joseph drops me and the supplies off at the cabin. Once everything is unloaded I must strip. I will be nude these two weeks. I beg him not to do this. We are too far into the woods that we own to worry about other people, but still I am embarrassed. To allow me to at least have some clothing tucked away, locked away even, but he is adamant. No. He takes my clothes and drives away. I am to put away the supplies and get a fire going. I am also tasked with drawing a bucket of water from the stream which we will use for cleaning purposes. We have no bathroom, only an old fashioned chamber pot. It will also be my task to empty and clean this in the stream twice daily.

I have just finished my tasks when Joseph hikes back to the tiny cabin. He looks about the small cabin. One bed made up with three quilts, one table, two chairs. A fireplace, one cauldron on a swinging iron "arm", one metal kettle in which to heat water, two cupboards. One cupboard holds household items - two place settings, one cast iron skillet, loose tea, a bag of flour and other staples. Most of our food we will gather. The berries have ripened and fresh herbs are up. The fish are plentiful. If Joseph decides we need anything that is not here and cannot be gathered from the surrounding 5 miles of woods, he will hike to the car and get whatever we need.

The second cupboard holds His supplies. I am not allowed to open this cupboard but I know what it holds - mostly. Rope. carved wooden plugs and dildos, leather belts, wooden paddles, chains, wooden clothespins, leather cuffs and other surprises. Each of these he will use on me for my discipline as well as for his pleasure. Looking at this unlocked cupboard, knowing what it contains, knowing he will use each and every item on me, causes me to tremble.

I hear him on the small porch and turn to look at him. He walks into the cabin, filling the space with his presence and I sink to my knees, shaking. "Begin" he says and I do. I unbuckle his belt, unzip his jeans and free his cock. This is my focus for the next two weeks and Joseph does not believe in giving me time to acclimate. He does not believe in "easing" into this Break. I know this and am happy. I worship his cock, savoring his taste, his feel. I kiss, lick and suck his balls, My hands keep a gentle touch on his shaft. Then, I switch positions, my mouth on his cock and my hands on his balls. This is my place, my job, my only priority. He pushes deep and I gag. He keeps his cock there, deep in my throat, allowing me time to adjust, then he pulls out - just a bit - then back in. He uses my mouth until he's about to cum. It's too soon, though for him to reward me with his taste, so he pulls out and cums on my body. I hate this and he knows it. But this is the beginning and there are traditions to observe so I accept this and sit back on my heels. You tuck yourself back in your jeans. Then, you hold out your hand.

We walk into the woods and gather more firewood. This, we stack outside of the cabin. Your cum has dried on my skin now. It's whiteness crackling on my breasts. You take me to the stream and I whimper. I know just how cold this water is, but this too is part of the ritual. You stand on the bank while I walk into the stream. I was away the sticky cum, the dirt from the city, the pride of modern society. I shiver, my nipples harden and I emerge from the icy water a pure woman, free to please her man, free from societal judgment.

My skin is cold to the touch, but not for long. We go back to the cabin and I stand by the table. You open the cupboard and pull out some rope. You bend me over, my belly flat against the wood, and tie my wrists in place. Already I am beginning to cry, knowing what is to come. I hear it before I feel it. The whoose of the paddle. I cry out - no one can hear - and feel the sting more keenly on my cold skin. Again and again you paddle me until I no longer pull against the ropes. Then, and only then, do you fuck me. Later when I am soft and feminine and totally submissive again, you will make love to me gently, but for now, I need to feel your strength, your power. I need you to dominate and control me. I need strictness and discipline. And you, Dear Sir, you give me what I need. You fuck me mercilessly. You take me and use me. The hardness of the table bites into my hips. My bottom is on fire from your paddle and my pussy is tender from your pounding. Because you came earlier, it takes you quite a while to reach fulfillment again. By the time you cum, my face is as wet as my thighs and I too have reached orgasm not once, not twice,but thrice. You cum inside of me and then kiss my neck, my back. You untie me and I slip to the floor, a puddle at your feet. You let me stay there, gathering my strength again, while you rest in the chair. After a few minutes I crawl to you, kiss each of your jewels and the tip of your cock. I put my cheek on your knee and you caress my hair.

Now, now I feel like I am home.

Wild Irish Rose

Rose stood before Him, waiting. Not only was today Inspection Day, but it is also St. Patrick's Day - His favorite holiday. He called her his Wild Irish Rose for good reason. She was indeed both Irish and Wild. Only a strong man could tame her, hence the need for a weekly inspection. Her muff must be trimmed neatly, but enough hair must be left to show her true genetics. Her body must be free of bruising unless previously reported - Rose was both clumsy and a bit on the wanton side. She must be wet. Always wet for Him. Her nipples perky and hard. Her anus empty and clean. Inspection day came only once a month and never on the same date. It was always a surprise to her. If she failed in any of her requirements, she would pay a penalty. Then again, she often enjoyed the penalty, so she would sometimes leave her pubic hair a bit frazzled, "forget" to do a cleanse. There wasn't much chance of her pussy not juicing since the very thought of Him made her puddle, nor was it likely that her nipples would not be perky for the very same reason. Just the thought of His mouth on them turned the pretty pink points into hardened pebbles. 

Today, it was the muff. She'd not trimmed it in several days and the edges were definitely frayed. 

"You've not been caring for my puss, Rose," He said.

"I've been busy, Sir, and with it being so cold, I didn't think you'd mind," she answered smartly.

"Think again. You know the rules," 

Rose hung her head and nodded. He sat on the edge of His chair and patted his lap. Silently, Rose assumed her position.

"I've got a surprise for you, Rose. In honor of the Feast Day, I've purchased a new paddle. Let's see how well you like it. Seventeen is the magic number for today."

He showed Rose the pretty new paddle - embossed leather - and she knew she would regret her rash decision of not shaving. He was not light with leather and since this was a punishment, she would be given no warm up. Time and again the paddle descended on her raised bottom. Only once did she put her hands over herself to block the blows. He graciously allowed her a moment to recover, then held her hands locked at the small of her back to ensure no repeat of her indiscretion. By the time He finished, Rose was sobbing, her bottom as red as her untrimmed hair. She begged forgiveness. He held her, kissed her head and granted her wish. Wanting to please Him, Rose slid to the floor and looked up at him, her eyes begging.

"Yes, Rose, you may," He said.

Quickly, she unzipped his trousers and got to work. She heard him moan with pleasure and smiled around his cock. She sucked his shaft while massaging his jewels, eager to please Him. Even after he feed her the Milk of Forgiveness, she remained at his feet, her cheek resting on his knee, His hand on her head.

"I do so love you, my Wild Irish Rose."

Ihave sinned - 4

Sunday afternoon. He's given me a choice. I am naked, naturally, and restrained. I am in the basement in our special room - carpeted thickly with heavy curtains hanging along all the walls acting not only as a cover for all the hooks and brackets, but also as an effective sound barrier. The room boasts a large, comfortable four posted bed, two wing backed chairs, one sturdy wooden desk and straight backed chair, a cabinet holding various implements, and another cabinet holding a decanter of good scotch and a few glasses.

I will remain here for the rest of the afternoon at least.  My hands are tied in front of me. He smiles as he offers me the choice - magnetic nipple clips, a pretty new enormous plug, a hand of ginger.  The clips will be horribly painful after about 10 minutes. The plug will hurt going in and I will likely have to wear it for hours, the ginger will burn like hell for about 20 minutes. I point to the ginger.

He kissed me and led me to a post of the bed. He untied my wrists long enough to retie them around the post. He kissed me gently and said, "I thought you might choose that. Did you, by any chance notice that there were five large fingers on that hand?"

I dropped my head. He began to peel and shape the first finger. "I didn't think so. Now, just because I want to, and because of your lack of observance, not only will each finger be put in you for twenty minutes," he inserted the freshly peeled ginger into my anus, "but for you will also wear the clips - twenty minutes on,twenty minutes off."

He placed the clips on my nipples. I cringe with pain and my pussy drips with anticipation. I cry just a bit.

"And then, my dear, when the time is up, I'm going to insert your new pretty, jeweled plug. After that, I'll release you, spank your beautiful ass, and fuck your wet pussy." I moaned. "By then, you'll be ready to come at a simple touch, won't you?"

"Yes, I will, Sir," I answered truthfully. Hell, I wanted to beg him to take me now - with the burn of the ginger making me dance and the pressure on my nipples shooting fingers of need straight to my clit.

He laughed, swatted my ass, and said, "Good. But if you cum without permission, my love, I'll pull out and spank you again." I gasped in despair. "Now, I'll just set the timer and leave you in peace for a while. Twenty minutes from now, I'll release those pretty little nipples and refresh your figged bottom. Be a good girl."

Just over 100 minutes later - sweat pouring off my body, my breath coming in pants, he released me. He sucked my sore nipples, shooting waves of pleasure through my body. He took out the ginger and quickly replaced it with the metal plug. I began to quiver, unable to stop myself. I'm not sure what's wetter - my face or my thighs.

"None of that," he scolded sternly. Then, he sat on the bed and flipped me over his lap. Over and over his hand came down on my bottom. I tried to rub my clit against his leg, but he wouldn't allow me. I cried, I screamed. Yes, the pain was there, but more was the need to cum. He flipped me over onto the end of the bed. He stood naked and beautiful before me. Then, he grabbed my ankles, pulled the up to his shoulder and rammed his glorious cock inside my pussy. I clenched around him,clawing at the covers, desperate not to cum. He fucked me hard,without gentleness, without mercy. He hands kneaded my breasts. I began to see red and knew my pleasure was about to take over.

"Please, please let me cum," I begged.

"Now!" he ordered.

I felt his hot serum shoot inside of me and purple stars exploded before my eyes and shook, I trembled. Someone screamed his name, and I realized it was me.

Later, he lay with me and held me gently, kissed me and told me how much he loved me, how beautiful I was. I warmed under his words, knowing they were not merely words, but truth.

"When will you take the plug out?" I quietly asked.

"Tomorrow. Then, I'm going to fuck your ass."

I have Sinned - 1

I have sinned and sinned often this year.

I have behaved in immodest ways.

I have not always obeyed my master.

I have become jealous, greedy, angry.

I am, after all, human and likely to fall into human failings.

Now, however, is the time for recompense, the time for payment of human failings.

Now is the time of sacrifice.

I tithe with my body,

my comfort is willingly sacrificed at your discretion

Each night, you will mark me, you have decreed this, during Lent.

You will mark me with a slapper, a whip, a cane, a belt

Your teeth, your hand, your cum

For forty nights I will bear your mark, not with pride, but with gratitude.

You will teach me, please, of my failings as a human

and my purpose - which is to serve.

Through this service, I find joy and fulfillment

pleasure and security. I find Myself.

Today he has called me and told me to come to his office. The mark from his cane has barely begun to fade but I know if I don't arrive within the allotted time, he will issue a punishment in addition to my daily mark. So I rush. And that is my mistake. I have forgotten that he has denied me the luxury of panties during lent. At least I remembered to wear a dress! Seriously, what the fuck was I thinking - or not thinking - when I slipped on the panties.

He locks his office door and tells his secretary that he will not be disturbed. He tells me to take off my dress and I do. When he sees the panties he sigh

s, orders me to bend over the desk and then he takes out his knife. I'm so embarrassed about my mistake that I don't even think about complaining. When he cuts off my panties, he tells me that he had planned on simply checking my mark, but since I disobeyed, he was forced to punish me. My cheeks flame. I know that Jeff, his secretary, will hear.

He pulls out his chair and takes me over his knee. His hand comes down hard - no warm up. I bite my lip to keep from crying out. Over and over again he spanks me. I can feel his hard cock beneath my belly and so I focus on that, blocking out the pain. Finally, he stops.He holds me a few moments then has me stand up. He kisses my tears away and helps me pull on my dress again.

"Next time you disobey, I will have Jeff administer the punishment. He and his wife also practice a traditional marriage. Now, go on with the rest of your day. But remember, this was a punishment, not your daily mark. Tonight, I plan on using my belt."

He kissed me again and I left his office, careful not to make eye contact with Jeff. As I made dinner, all I could think of was my burning ass and the kiss of leather yet to come. For some reason, I couldn't keep the smile from my face.

I look about my home with a prideful eye. I know pride is a sin, but I can't help it. Every room is spotless, fresh flowers grace the table, the oyster stew bubbles on the stove and the scent of fresh bread wafts throughout the kitchen. I know He will be pleased when he arrives home in about an hour, but I am pleased as well. A clean, well organized house brings me peace and happiness.

My phone chirps and I read the text:  Remove your clothes. If needed, you may wear your apron, but for the rest of the weekend, you will remain in the house and naked. I would like you to be bent over a chair and the cane ready for me when I arrive home. I love you.

I feel my pussy lips plump and soften in anticipation. If he wants me naked for the weekend, he will use me often. Glancing at the clock, I quickly remove my clothing. Then, I take the bread out of the oven and set it on a wire rack to cool. I find his cane and position myself. Then I wait. and wait. and wait. I concentrate on breathing and then I hear his footsteps.

"You are so absolutely lovely," he says.

I smile and grasp the arms of the chair. Then I hear the whistle of the cane. Fire flashes across my bottom and I cry out but I do not move. He runs his hands over the heat. He kisses my back and pulls me upright. He hugs me, kisses me again and fingers my wet pussy. I hear him chuckle but he keeps on kissing me and finger fucking me.I have to hold onto him when the pleasure takes over. Once I'm back on earth, he breaks the kiss, smiles at me and says, "Dinner smells wonderful."

I am His

Red and white. Those are the only colors I will be wearing next to my skin for a while. I know they are unusual colors for lent, but this is what HoH has decreed and so this is what will happen. Actually, I may wear only white underclothing but I will also be allowed to accessorize with red - more to the point, HE will be accessorize with red. 

Lent is a time of sacrifice and deep thinking and so it shall be in our household. My ass, my thighs, my breasts, the backs of my legs, one or all will be spanked, caned, or slapped each morning until my skin has reached the color HoH desires. Each morning, after I shower He will come to me, decide where I will be reddened, decided which implement He will use. While He is deciding, I will administer to his cock, suckling, caressing, kissing. When He decides, I will present myself to him as He chooses - across his lap, bent over a chair, bound to bed. When my skin has reached a satisfactory color, He may choose to make love to me or not. Then, I will go on with my morning activities - making breakfast, putting the kitchen to rights - while he dresses for work. 

I will go about my day, wearing only white undergarments next to my reddened skin and I remember I am loved and cared for and I will know my place in the universe. No matter how crazy the world is, I will know I am thought of and important and essential and respected because I am His.

Reality Sucks, but in a Lovely Way

So - you all know I write fiction. Great news - my first book under this pen name is due to come out February 14 with www.darkcastlelords.net. Lessons in Love - Book 1 of Mrs. Winter's Brothel series.
I've been asked often if what I write here is also fiction or based on truth. Reality, there's a grain of truth or fantasy in every post. Sometimes that grain is tinier than a grain of sand, sometimes, it's a fucking boulder. For this post, I thought I'd be real.

 I write a lot about anal. Yes, I like anal - sometimes. But sometimes, I really, really don't. Also, unlike stories, in reality there's poo. Sometimes, you may not know there is poo until it's right there. Literally in your face, on your sheets, smeared on your thighs. NOT romantic.

I write a lot about spanking. Yes, I like to be spanked. But sometimes, I really, really don't. I have to be in the right mood to enjoy it - as does He. Also, the pleasure DOES NOT make the pain go away, it simply makes the pain worth it. I don't like bruises and I bruise very easily, so harder is not better for me but rather, slow and steady. Accepting 100 swats? No way. The sound of a leather belt - sexy, but far, far scarier than anything else.

I write a lot about 24/7 submission. Yes, I might like that - oh - wait - no. No, I really wouldn't. I'm far too independent, have too much responsibility in my job and too much weird shit happens in my life to be bound by a set of rules which are unbreakable. I work for a living and I know few women who don't. I'm not sure how I could perform my job while wearing a visible collar, chastity belt, or other a butt plug all day as some of the characters in my stories do. What does that say about me as a writer? It says I write fiction!

I write about pretty, young (25-25) or so women and handsome, muscular me. Yes, I imagine myself like that. But I'm not. I'm in my fifties as is my Mister. Yes, he's handsome, but not in the movie star kind of way. I have bumps and bulges and dings and "hail damage" and stretch marks and moles and scars and hair in odd places. So does he. Does this make him less attractive - HELL NO! Do I feel inferior and self conscious - of course I do. I'm an American woman! Isn't that how we are supposed to feel? Still, with age, there comes a bit of wisdom and I've figured out something life changing. If I appreciate and find diversity in humanity sexy and attractive, others do as well. Also, confidence and a positive attitude and intelligence are far sexier than any plastic person can hope to be.

Power of Submission

I need my tears and I need my freedom and I need to let go. How do I do this? I can't. At least not alone. Most importantly, i need You. I need YOU to be take the control away from me. I need YOU to tell me that YOU will take care of everything. That I have no need for worry or fear. That I can  - no - that I must leave work at work and the stress of the world at the door because once I enter Your domain, you have taken control of my body, my decisions, my life. By doing this, You give me the freedom to be who I want to be when I am with you. You give me the freedom to feel, to nurture, to serve, to be happy with my body, to enjoy time with You without guilt or worry or the world pushing it's insane demands into my mind. But I can't just let go of the world, whose claws sink into my soul so, so deeply. I will fight you and I will argue and I will hold on to what I know I should let go of. 

That is why, not only I, but also You need to trust in what I tell you. You need to trust that I will say "Butterfly" if I need you to stop. So that we can talk. So that I can have a few minutes to think and process. So that we both know that ultimately, I know when I've had all i can take for the moment. I need you to ignore my other words since only "Butterfly" with (at least temporarily) give me back control. I need you to ignore my protests, to tie my hands if they flail too much or just if you like them to be tied, to press me against the table or tie me to it, to remind me - through spankings, canings, whippings, figging, wax drippings, anal plugs, cold or very warm enemas, fucking my holes, or any other method you choose  - that I have given you the right and the responsibility to lead me. I need you to do this weekly, if not more often. I need reminded that I am more than what the world sees. My tears are my gift to you and proof that I need this. They tell not just of physical pain - which rarely causes me to cry - but rather of the relief my soul feels when it is free to fly, the joy that I can give myself totally to You and the passion that I feel flowing out of me.I need my tears to wash away the hideous world of Today.  I do not give tears easily, so please, please, please, do what you must. Do what you want. Do what I need you to do so that I can let go and love you and serve you and my heart directs me to do. 

Think again

Do you really think I will allow you to get by with this? Think again Little Miss. That body, the one you just insulted, that body is mine. You signed the contract, you gave me your vow, you have not used a safe word. For your information, I like curves on a woman. If I wanted bones, I'd be a dog.

Further, I like your scars. That one on your belly is a testament to our daughter's birth. The others remind me that you are human and not actually a goddess, although god knows, I think of you as such.

I also happen to like that bit of silver in your hair. Yes, both on top and fringing that lovely wet pussy of yours. The lightness of the color contrasts perfectly with the darker red tones. Each gray hair is proof that you are not a young woman who is unsure of herself, but rather a confident and strong woman.

So, with that in mind, if you think you're going to speak ill of that which I love, think again. And, while you're thinking, lay yourself over my lap. I suddenly have a great desire to see that shapely, round bottom of yours all pinked up. Maybe that will help remind you of just how beautiful I think you are.

Spanking of the Week

I hate baseball. And now, it's baseball season. My Man, however loves baseball and has required that I be with him for each game he watches. First, I prepare traditional snacks - chips, dip, sandwiches, and fill a cooler with beer which I set next to the couch. Sometimes friends show up, sometimes, like today, it is just the two of us. I could really use this time to read, clean, do anything else, but this is one of his requirements, and in truth, I'm happy to obey. Once the game starts, I am to remain naked. Today, the Cards are playing the Cubs. He's a die hard Cubs fan (I HAVE NO IDEA WHY!!) The Cards are up to bat first. Each time they get a man on base I get spanked. For every time time they score, I get ten swats on each cheek. If, by some chance, the Cubs get a man on base, he finger fucks me. If, I'm really lucky and the Cubs score, He lets me orgasm. Either way, by the end of the game, I'm a wet, dripping horny mess. My ass and thighs are red and swollen, by pussy throbbing and I am nothing but a melted whore begging to be fucked.

Maybe I DO like baseball afterall!

Well Used Gift.

My Lord and Master has given me to Sir as a Christmas Gift. I couldn't be more pleased. This is my second day with Sir. Last night, after worshiping his cock, he untied my ankles and let me curl up next to him. He played with the bells clipped to my nipples while he relaxed and watched a bit of television. Each flick caused my nipples to burn and the bells to chime and my pussy to tighten. Finally, he ordered me to his bed. He tied me, my legs spread, my hands above my head, to his bed. His mouth devoured my tender buds until I screamed and begged. He laughed at my distress then, with a nipple caught between his teeth, he gave permission. I exploded with pleasure. He sucked off one clip and I screamed again. He gave me permission to cum at will as his gift to me. Then, he sucked off the other clip. He reached down, fingered me pussy, dipping deeply into my honey.

Ready for me, Slut?

Yes, Sir!

First, give me a number.

Panting, I answered. 8.

Eight it is. He opened a drawer and pulled out a soft flogger. I almost fainted with desire.

I heard the swish then felt the sting. Eight times he flogged my pussy, each stroke harder than the last until, by number 7, tears ran down my cheeks.

That's it. Cry for me. I want your pussy and your face wet.

I screamed. Stroke 8 felt like fire across my wet, delicate, swollen flesh. He gave me no time to catch my breath before he entered me, driving his hard cock deep within my womb. I clenched around him and came again, bright colors exploding from my eyes. Harshly, he fucked me. No mercy. He took what he wanted and within moments emptied himself - not in me as I so wanted, but on me, his sweetness burning my tummy, by breasts.

Slowly, he untied my hands and ankles. He kissed me gently and re-tied one ankle to the bed, leaving a good five feet of play in the rope.

Now, G, I'm tired. I'm going to give you your nightly spanking and then we are both going to sleep. I will spank you until you cry every night because I know you need it. But rest well, because for the next 7 days, you will be naked, leashed, tied to my bed, spanked, tweezed, shaved, fucked in every hole, flogged, fisted, figged. Your ass will be plugged at all times unless you need to relieve yourself. I will be your world and I will do anything else I desire. You will speak only when I ask a question. You are mine. Understood?

Oh yes Sir.

He flipped me over onto my stomach. He lifted my hips and placed several pillows beneath me. His hand came down on my bottom. Hard. fast. Punishing. I gasped at the pain, at the pleasure. I squirmed and he held me own with one hand on the small of my back. I bi my lip and held onto the sheets. I did not cry easily during a spanking, but he was right. Unless I cried, I felt unfulfilled. Crying was my sign of total submission, giving, release. Again and again he spanked me. Soon, he began to pant. Pain clouded my vision, but I began to feel a tight coil inside of me release, ease. I floated and gave myself over to him. Warmth covered me more securely than any blanket.

Then, he was holding me. Crooning to me, kissing my tear stained faced.

That's it my precious G. Cry it out. Relax, honey. I'll hold you until you until you sleep.

This is going to be a very, very good week.