There's a lot of Masters who put high demands on slaves. Confliction over whether I can meet these demands frequently makes me upset, and hurts me deeper and longer than a whipping. Yet these are often silly demands, completely rediculous to be expected of me by these people who don't even know me.
So many Masters have told me that if I am going to submit, that I have to do it all at once, that the last choice I make is going to be in submitting to them and afterwards every single decision is to be theirs, and I must simply trust them to decide what is best for me. I think this is not only foolishness, but absolute stupidity. How can they possibly know what is best for me when they barely know me?
There are many shades of grey in submission, and varying levels of trust, not the black and white they would have me believe. To throw myself blindly and fully trusting into their clutches is just asking for heartache and quite possibly injury, yet this is what I am repeatedly told I must do.
What utter nonsense.
There are great depths to who I am that not even my longest lasting Master reached in the years we were together, and these people who don't even have a clue think that they can Master me?
Why the heck do I keep letting these idiots berate me?
Just because I'm not going to leap head first into water that may be far too shallow does not mean I'm going to always be alone, I am not the sole cause of a relationship failure and I do not make myself miserable on purpose, and I'm tired of hearing from these jackasses that I do.
I think I've run out of steam for this rambling rant now.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Thursday, September 25, 2008
HNT: Bared
Well ... I had a request for nipples a couple weeks ago.
So here you go.
So here you go.
Happy HNT you perverts. : )
Friday, September 19, 2008
Can't Stop the Rhythm
... And of course, now that I have written that title I have 'Can't stop the Moonlight' playing in my head.
Last week I received a 2 CD set of belly dance music I had ordered online. Belly dancing is something I have been interested in for a very long time, but I've always been too shy/demotivated/poor to really get into it. I have a coin belt, and I attended a few classes with a friend, but beyond that I haven't done much with it.
This purchase was hopefully the first step in remedying that. Eventually I'll get some tutorial dvds, and with practice I hope to not be so shy about dancing in front of people. Because damn, I so want to.
Last friday being the last day of my holidays, I ripped the package open as soon as I had the house to myself and popped it on. I was uncertain about it at first, some of the songs have an odd structure to them, and can be quite repetitive with the instruments used, but regardless it wasn't long before I was squirming in my seat, moving in time to the music, just picturing what I could do with it.
I saw a large room with the floor cleared, encircled by chairs filled by Masters, a few with their own slaves at foot. I'd be dressed in billowing chiffon, just see-through enough to really tease as I turned, adorned with fine gold chains and the ringing coins and bells, every move creating its own music as I danced for these men, writhing passionately beneath their hungry gaze, to drive them crazy enough to reach for me, even before the music had stopped. With the fantasy as motivation and unable to keep still with the music playing, I dug out my coin belt.
There were no fantasies as I danced though, just pure practice, what I could remember of the very basic drills, but after a minute of undulations I was exhausted. It made clear to me just how very, very far I have to go before my vision has a hope of coming true. This isn't really helped by the fact that I only feel secure enough to practice when I'm alone with no chance of interruption, and that is not going to happen consistently for a long time.
But here's to hoping, and dreaming.
Last week I received a 2 CD set of belly dance music I had ordered online. Belly dancing is something I have been interested in for a very long time, but I've always been too shy/demotivated/poor to really get into it. I have a coin belt, and I attended a few classes with a friend, but beyond that I haven't done much with it.
This purchase was hopefully the first step in remedying that. Eventually I'll get some tutorial dvds, and with practice I hope to not be so shy about dancing in front of people. Because damn, I so want to.
Last friday being the last day of my holidays, I ripped the package open as soon as I had the house to myself and popped it on. I was uncertain about it at first, some of the songs have an odd structure to them, and can be quite repetitive with the instruments used, but regardless it wasn't long before I was squirming in my seat, moving in time to the music, just picturing what I could do with it.
I saw a large room with the floor cleared, encircled by chairs filled by Masters, a few with their own slaves at foot. I'd be dressed in billowing chiffon, just see-through enough to really tease as I turned, adorned with fine gold chains and the ringing coins and bells, every move creating its own music as I danced for these men, writhing passionately beneath their hungry gaze, to drive them crazy enough to reach for me, even before the music had stopped. With the fantasy as motivation and unable to keep still with the music playing, I dug out my coin belt.
There were no fantasies as I danced though, just pure practice, what I could remember of the very basic drills, but after a minute of undulations I was exhausted. It made clear to me just how very, very far I have to go before my vision has a hope of coming true. This isn't really helped by the fact that I only feel secure enough to practice when I'm alone with no chance of interruption, and that is not going to happen consistently for a long time.
But here's to hoping, and dreaming.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
HNT: Back, and in Black
It's way past time I started this again. I have a huge selection of lingerie, and a huge selection of photos of me posing in said lingerie in a variety of positions with varying levels of dodginess. I hardly have an excuse to deprive you good people, but doesn't it make it so sweet when I feel like posting again.
In fact, maybe I should start posting several photos at once in order to show off a wider range of half-nekkidness.
HHNT everyone.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Friday, September 5, 2008
Morning Bliss
I set the book on my dresser, finished. It's the Claiming of Sleeping Beauty, and while the last few chapters aren't particularly erotic, for me at least, I tentatively reach down to have a fondle of my clitoris. There's no underwear, I gave up wearing underwear to bed a few months ago for health and comfort reasons (it is apparently a very good idea to let genitalia breathe), and I'm not quite used to it yet, but after fiddling with the button for a bit I reach down to see how wet I am.
Oh I'm very wet. I smear the juices up and down for a bit, spreading it over my clit, before sinking a finger deep inside myself. Very, very wet, that was too easy, so a second finger goes in, and I push hard in just the right spot and I instantly orgasm.
It's the holidays for me so I have the house to myself, I could play without fear of my noise attracting unwanted attention, and I thought it was about time I got out my vibrator again. It has been a long time since I last used it, since well before we moved actually, perhaps even a whole year since I used it alone on myself, though it got some exercise at the weekend away. So I get up and go wash my hands (very, VERY wet), shed my nightgown and pull out vibrator and batteries. I'd only recently learned the trick of keeping the batteries out when it was idle, though I can't think why I hadn't thought of it myself, and as I tested the strength I'm very glad I learned it as it's running as strong as though the batteries were fresh.
Its a very simple vibrator, my first and only, not so long and not so thick, not waterproof, with a simple twisting knob on the top to alter speed, smooth and straight. They're probably $20-30, but it serves me well enough.
So I lay down, spread my legs wide and gently rub the tip over my clit. For now it's off, just letting it slide over my flesh, getting it nice and slick in my own lube, imagining a man pinning me down, teasing me with his cock in such a way, then I lower it and slide it inside quick. Oooh it's been too long since I had something inside me.
I keep jostling the knob so it turns on, but for now I want it off, just feeling it slipping in and out of me, pressing deep. Soon enough I turn up the vibrations, low at first, sliding it out a couple of times to run it over my clit, before turning it up high and ramming it in. I'm crying out as I cum over and over, clutching wildly at my pillow, at my headboard, writhing and thrusting my hips against an imaginary lover. I cannot contain my cries, nor do I want to, and I've long ago given up counting orgasms, as I normally lose count in the high twenties, and I'm probably already nearing that number.
I grasp my left breast, tweaking the nipple briefly before pinching it as hard as I can as the vibrator moves vigorously in and out. I can just imagine lips and teeth there, tasting, biting. I pause for a quick breather before assaulting the other breast, the same images flashing behind half-closed eyes, then the vibrator is out and just brushing the tips of my nipples on its highest setting, and I shiver.
Its back at my cunt in moments, turning the setting down, teasing just at the entrance, probing just inside. I can feel the liquid running down the crack of my ass. Would a Master enjoy tormenting me this way? Would he like to hear me beg to have him inside me? To take me, rape me as he willed? I thrust it deep, there's an edge of pain, but I want it. I push hard and fast, writhing as I claw at the bed with my free hand, the twinge of pain telling me he wants me, he will take me as he pleases, and right now that is roughly and desperately.
I am going like this for some time, round after round with only brief breathers, altering the setting or almost withdrawing. Time has no meaning as I abandon myself to my own pleasure. I think of my Master coming upon me like this, pleasuring myself so shamelessly, striding over to me and wrenching the vibrator from my hand, throwing it to the floor so he may thrust himself into me and have his own way with me. Or perhaps he will pin my hands, taking me even more violently with the vibrator than I have myself before finally impaling me with his cock.
I'm starting to get a bit raw now, and I reach to turn it down and finish. Here's how well I know my own toy - I turned the knob the wrong way, right up to full, and after that I couldn't stop, but had to ride out yet another round of writhing orgasms.
Slowly I withdraw it and turn it down. There's sticky stuff all over it, right up to the adjustment knob, but I don't want to get up and wash it just yet, so I prop it up where it won't slick up anything else and I collapse back on the bed.
Here's a quirk to my masturbation. I might be able to orgasm as many times with a vibrator as with a play partner, but not as deeply nor as long, nor as satisfyingly. To do that I must use my hands, through cloth to let the texture abrade my flesh and bunch over my clit, but I only get one when I do, and that's how I finish when I use the vibrator.
A fresh pair of knickers from the laundry pile is spread over my cunt and my hand over it, rubbing gently at first. I'm still tired, but determined to finish with one last big one. I clutch my pillow to my front, the fabric rubbing my nipples, clutching with my thighs as though it were a set of hips that was grinding against me. My head falls back and my back arcs so I'm right off the bed, and I think of Him, where ever and who ever he may be. I think of him spreading my legs forcefully and leaning down to press his body against mine, of him grasping my hair and turning my head so he may bite my neck where I can almost feel the collar, sucking at my nipples and kissing me violently as he thrusts into me. It's not quite enough, so I dream further. He leans down and whispers in my ear what a hot and wet little slut I am, that I am his, and that I'm going to cum for him. It's a trick that works almost every time, and I can feel that steep peak building, moaning as I imagine him thrusting harder, faster, as my hand works furiously, and then I explode with a scream.
I stretch out languidly on the bed, still trembling, and am thankful that my window faces in the opposite direction to our neighbour's house.
And now after washing and putting away my toy and sitting here in my knickers and dressing gown to write this post, its about time I went and got ... lunch, since it's now well past breakfast time.
Oh I'm very wet. I smear the juices up and down for a bit, spreading it over my clit, before sinking a finger deep inside myself. Very, very wet, that was too easy, so a second finger goes in, and I push hard in just the right spot and I instantly orgasm.
It's the holidays for me so I have the house to myself, I could play without fear of my noise attracting unwanted attention, and I thought it was about time I got out my vibrator again. It has been a long time since I last used it, since well before we moved actually, perhaps even a whole year since I used it alone on myself, though it got some exercise at the weekend away. So I get up and go wash my hands (very, VERY wet), shed my nightgown and pull out vibrator and batteries. I'd only recently learned the trick of keeping the batteries out when it was idle, though I can't think why I hadn't thought of it myself, and as I tested the strength I'm very glad I learned it as it's running as strong as though the batteries were fresh.
Its a very simple vibrator, my first and only, not so long and not so thick, not waterproof, with a simple twisting knob on the top to alter speed, smooth and straight. They're probably $20-30, but it serves me well enough.
So I lay down, spread my legs wide and gently rub the tip over my clit. For now it's off, just letting it slide over my flesh, getting it nice and slick in my own lube, imagining a man pinning me down, teasing me with his cock in such a way, then I lower it and slide it inside quick. Oooh it's been too long since I had something inside me.
I keep jostling the knob so it turns on, but for now I want it off, just feeling it slipping in and out of me, pressing deep. Soon enough I turn up the vibrations, low at first, sliding it out a couple of times to run it over my clit, before turning it up high and ramming it in. I'm crying out as I cum over and over, clutching wildly at my pillow, at my headboard, writhing and thrusting my hips against an imaginary lover. I cannot contain my cries, nor do I want to, and I've long ago given up counting orgasms, as I normally lose count in the high twenties, and I'm probably already nearing that number.
I grasp my left breast, tweaking the nipple briefly before pinching it as hard as I can as the vibrator moves vigorously in and out. I can just imagine lips and teeth there, tasting, biting. I pause for a quick breather before assaulting the other breast, the same images flashing behind half-closed eyes, then the vibrator is out and just brushing the tips of my nipples on its highest setting, and I shiver.
Its back at my cunt in moments, turning the setting down, teasing just at the entrance, probing just inside. I can feel the liquid running down the crack of my ass. Would a Master enjoy tormenting me this way? Would he like to hear me beg to have him inside me? To take me, rape me as he willed? I thrust it deep, there's an edge of pain, but I want it. I push hard and fast, writhing as I claw at the bed with my free hand, the twinge of pain telling me he wants me, he will take me as he pleases, and right now that is roughly and desperately.
I am going like this for some time, round after round with only brief breathers, altering the setting or almost withdrawing. Time has no meaning as I abandon myself to my own pleasure. I think of my Master coming upon me like this, pleasuring myself so shamelessly, striding over to me and wrenching the vibrator from my hand, throwing it to the floor so he may thrust himself into me and have his own way with me. Or perhaps he will pin my hands, taking me even more violently with the vibrator than I have myself before finally impaling me with his cock.
I'm starting to get a bit raw now, and I reach to turn it down and finish. Here's how well I know my own toy - I turned the knob the wrong way, right up to full, and after that I couldn't stop, but had to ride out yet another round of writhing orgasms.
Slowly I withdraw it and turn it down. There's sticky stuff all over it, right up to the adjustment knob, but I don't want to get up and wash it just yet, so I prop it up where it won't slick up anything else and I collapse back on the bed.
Here's a quirk to my masturbation. I might be able to orgasm as many times with a vibrator as with a play partner, but not as deeply nor as long, nor as satisfyingly. To do that I must use my hands, through cloth to let the texture abrade my flesh and bunch over my clit, but I only get one when I do, and that's how I finish when I use the vibrator.
A fresh pair of knickers from the laundry pile is spread over my cunt and my hand over it, rubbing gently at first. I'm still tired, but determined to finish with one last big one. I clutch my pillow to my front, the fabric rubbing my nipples, clutching with my thighs as though it were a set of hips that was grinding against me. My head falls back and my back arcs so I'm right off the bed, and I think of Him, where ever and who ever he may be. I think of him spreading my legs forcefully and leaning down to press his body against mine, of him grasping my hair and turning my head so he may bite my neck where I can almost feel the collar, sucking at my nipples and kissing me violently as he thrusts into me. It's not quite enough, so I dream further. He leans down and whispers in my ear what a hot and wet little slut I am, that I am his, and that I'm going to cum for him. It's a trick that works almost every time, and I can feel that steep peak building, moaning as I imagine him thrusting harder, faster, as my hand works furiously, and then I explode with a scream.
I stretch out languidly on the bed, still trembling, and am thankful that my window faces in the opposite direction to our neighbour's house.
And now after washing and putting away my toy and sitting here in my knickers and dressing gown to write this post, its about time I went and got ... lunch, since it's now well past breakfast time.
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