Disciplined

I am not disciplined. I never have been and the condition has been made worse in the last three years since I've haven't had a regular job. I just sort of do what I want, when I want. If I want to spend all day in my pjs, I do. Want to go to the gym, ok... don't want to go, ok.


I will forsake all my responsibilities and commitments to stay just one more minute with my phone in my hand tethered to Him at the other end.

I need Him to provide the structure. To know where I will jeopardize areas of my life to do His will and NOT allow me to do so. I need Him to recognize this weakness and work to help me correct it. 

The balance

A writing found on Fetlife:

She's my submissive, but I love to hold doors open for her.
I flog, cane and torture her for my enjoyment, but I love taking her out to dinner.
I fuck her like a whore whenever and however I like, but I love to buy her pretty things and remind her how special she is to me.
I'm a gentleman, because it gives me pleasure to be a gentleman, it gives me pleasure to make her feel good about herself, it gives me pleasure to dote on the one I care about. And when she smiles and hugs me or drops to her knees just because she's happy to be near me, I know I'm doing things right.
I can be romantic without compromising my authority because my babygirl has learned not to mistake kindness for weakness. Treating her like a lady when I feel like doing so builds her respect for her Sir rather than diminishes it.
She's mine to do with as I please, and sometimes what pleases me most is kissing her hand, asking her how her day was, and whenever I can, holding the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is a balance that the author captures in this writing. A balance that I believe is so incredibly vital to any D/s relationship. The balance between romance and Domination that can be maintained even across the miles.

I will want to do every difficult thing He will want me to do. I will crave the hard things, the mind fuck, the absolute Domination of my inner demons.

He will stretch my boundaries, mentally and physically... creating scenarios that I might consider almost hard limits and creating a head space for me to consider those very same situations something to look forward too.

  The situations will be hard, trying, demanding. They are going to be challenging mentally, physically and emotionally. I expect that He will put me through the ringer and push me harder than I've ever been pushed. I will be exhausted, broken, and completely emptied when He gets done with me.

Some of the situations, I won't be able to wait to experience but there are some thoughts and ideas that I will be more than a little terrified of.

But even as much as it scares me, I will want to suffer for Him. I will want to cry and scream and hurt for Him. I will want to take everything He wants to give.

While some of the more intense things aren't going to be things that happen during our early playtimes, I know that the fear and anxiety I feel will not hold me back from doing anything He wants me to do, anything He expects of me. We may just have to work up to a few things.

But, I know that I can do anything He wants of me, because He will bring the balance to every experience. I know that when I have done the things He demands of me, when I have given Him everything I have to give, that He will balance that by giving of Himself to me.

At the end of the hard things, when I am spent, pushed past my breaking point, after the humiliation, the beatings, the torment, when He's broken me and there is nothing left in me except the pure, raw response to Him... When He is done, after He has had His way... He will remind me that I am His, I am His good girl, His little whore. He will remind me that even with mascara running down my cheeks, my hair a complete mess, welts rising on my skin... He will remind me that this when I am most beautiful to Him. He will help me to remember that He is as addicted to me as I am to Him.

The balance during play time is important, but I think it is the balance that happens in our day to day, that is the most vital. Even across the miles this balance plays such an important part in a developing D/s.

There will be moments when He pushes me. Sometimes it will be mentally, helping me to consider certain situations... to put myself in them, under His hand and experience them. Sometimes it will be physically, doing things that make me uncomfortable or that are physically demanding... not wearing panties, "showing" Him certain things, cumming over and over and over and over, or edging to madness... the list goes on and on.

But then there will be times when I ask to sit quietly at His feet and He will let me.

Moments when He will pull me into His lap and strokes my hair, petting me.

There will be times when He reminds me with His words, with His careful attentions that He adores me, that I am His cherished whore (that word is a whole journal post by itself). 

There will be times when He will allow me to kneel for Him. He will know that kneeling for Him settles me, centers me, brings peace to my soul and when I so desperately need that He will bring me to my place... on my knees, between His feet, under His hand. 

And times when He will welcome me  to wrap myself around His feet and rest.

Moments when He will seem to know that I just need Him... and He will give that to me.

It is a delicious balance between the sadistic and the tender... and there will be so much for us to experience together.

Exposed

After my post yesterday Sir and I discussed my thoughts on kneeling before Him, fully exposed and open and just being observed.


When I think of presenting myself, His property, before Him, I see something similar to this in my mind.

The position is beautiful. She is lovely and graceful. Worthy of appreciation.The low lighting in the room hiding the imperfections she might be worried over, the position allowing her to present herself but still to maintain that ever important sense of modesty, purity, beauty.

Even this one would be ok. This one is a little more vulgar, but with my face down, it would be bearable to be this exposed. The lighting would expose every little flaw, every little imperfection but if He wanted to see those things, this position would be ideal and easy to achieve if directed. It would make me feel very shy and very blushy and very self conscience but the fact that my head was down, my hands above, that I was doing it for Him would make it bearable. Still I believe that I would find questions racing through my mind... is my tummy showing, do my thighs look huge, aren't assholes kind of gross to look at... why would He want to see it in such detail?

When He thinks of me presenting myself to Him, He expects more of this. There is something about the added level of exposure and the simple fact that she is holding herself open, so exposed. It's so crude, so indelicate. It makes me so uncomfortable. If we had been playing for a while, my sexual need heightened, my desire at that lovely do anything He asked level, I could do this without a second thought. However, if He said to me when I brought His morning coffee, "kneel, slut. present." and expected this position from me, I would be wildly anxious, embarrassed... my mind racing with awful thoughts and questions. To be done in a moment without the added sexual need, this would be a terribly humiliating task for me to endure. 

When I think of exposing myself like this, my ever busy mind fills with questions like those mentioned above. I feel fat, ungraceful, very unsexy (I know that's not a word, but it fits). I would be fidgety, nervous, anxious.

After talking with Sir about this yesterday, a lot of these thoughts have started to shift in my mind. Bear in mind that I've never presented for anyone in real life, only in my mind. I've never held a position as instructed and simply been observed by someone I've submitted myself completely too. I've never been inspected by a strong, demanding Dominant man, either visually or physically.

According to my Sir, these moments of exposure, for Him, are his way of taking a moment to appreciate and cherish me and the beauty that he sees in me. It allows Him to feast His eyes upon what now belongs to Him. He explained that the women in the photos seem content with this sort of exposure because they are comforted in the knowledge that their Dom is not sitting behind them picking apart their imperfections but instead He is simply gazing upon the embodiment of what He has been investing His time and effort into bringing out in His dirty lil whore. Even if there are imperfections in her physically, those imperfections are appreciated in these moments as the bits and pieces that make her unique and beautiful to Him.

{{ Sir: And for me to put you in that position, obviously means I admire you... you and who you are. }}

It's not all about kneeling between His feet, nuzzling His thigh, or resting with my head on His feet... or crawling in His lap to be petted... my lips on His neck, breathing Him in. Those are my moments.  Those are the moments when He spoils me.

Presenting myself in whatever way He asks, no matter how difficult it is for me, those are His moments. Those are the moments when I give the most of myself to Him, because they are the hardest for me to give.

I want so much to do the difficult things for Him, to have my boundaries stretched by Him. I can't wait for the day when I know exactly how presenting myself to Him makes me feel.

Having this conversation with Him yesterday had an interesting effect on me. All afternoon I wanted nothing more than to be near to Him, to know Him more. I was craving Him, even more so than usual. It was like a physical ache inside me. 

abandon - in process...

When she's abandoned her moral center and teachings...when she's cast aside her facade of propriety and lady-like demeanor...when I have so corrupted this fragile thing and brought out a writhing, mewling, bucking, wanton whore for my enjoyment and pleasure.....enticing from within this feral lioness...growling and scratching and biting...taking everything I dish out to her.....at that moment she is never more beautiful to me.” ~ Marquis De Sade

This is something I struggle with.  This idea of total abandon. Giving in to the darkest desires He can pull from me. I know it is desperately and terrifyingly dark in the hidden recesses of my soul. What kind of person will I be if I allow those demons out to play? As it is, it is very easy for my lust to overrun my good sense and wreak havoc on my life. I've missed deadlines, hurt those I loved, almost lost jobs, done things that could easily land me in jail all because someone riled my lusty inner Jezebel up.

My mother tried so hard to raise a pretty, polite, well mannered lady. Mostly, I think she did a pretty good job. I am well mannered. Most of the time I am well behaved and more so since I've gotten older, have a bunch of kids of my own. But, I am a little more crazy than my mother would liked and I have quite a few less morals than she wanted me to have, of that I am certain. 

Even with those looser morals, I still find myself feeling shy, hesitant and blushy at so many things that Sir suggests. Things He truly believes I will find myself wanting, craving, possibly even begging for.

I have a very vivid imagination but my real life experiences are woefully sad and incomplete in comparison to His. There are so many things that I just can't seem to wrap my head around because I've never experienced anything like it. I ask a lot of questions trying to properly imagine the situation and how I would react to it. I will do just about anything to figure out a way to sample those things or put myself in those situations. (see the post about coffee from a few days ago).

When I first started on this journey a few short years ago, I could not understand photos like this one:

After being exposed to Dominant personalities over the past couple of years, I have a better understanding of why this patient exposing of oneself is interesting for the Dom. Sort of.

What I struggle with is my reaction to that situation. To be naked, exposed and simply watched doing nothing more than being still. The very idea of it makes me feel sort of bonkers. I can't imagine that I would do well in this situation. How long does something like this last? Is anything said during such a moment? I can only imagine myself getting bored, antsy, irritated. That is not at all what is conveyed in the photos... In the photos the sub appears to be at peace, perfectly happy to be so exposed, so intently observed yet not at all acknowledged as even being present. No words are spoken to her, He doesn't touch her.

Sooooo, does that make me a bad sub? not really a sub? or is it just simply that I have never been in that position so my thoughts on it and my reaction to it are completely inaccurate?

thoughts of needs and dinner parties

I need to be overwhelmed with sensation, with words, with pain. I want there to be so much going on that there is no way for my head to process it... that there is nothing for my head to do but to shut down and allow the deeper, most raw parts of me to feel every slap, every pinch, every thrust of every cock into every hole.

Sir has been presenting me with multiple cock scenarios over the last few days. Sometimes He participates, sometimes He watches. Today, we were watching video clips of gang bangs and women sucking off a number of cocks. The clips were hot. They turned me on a little, I like the idea of it but there was no element of violence or danger. Never did the girl seem overwhelmed with what was being done to her.

I mentioned the lack of violence to Sir and the next couple of clips were much hotter. Had much more of an effect on my lower regions. By the time we had watched a couple of those clips I needed to cum. In particular there was a clip of a dinner party. One naked, bound girl in the middle of the table as the center piece, one naked bound girl serving the drinks and another acting as a crawling dessert cart.

This particular scene turns me straight fucking on. My inner slut wars with herself over which of the three girls she would most like to be. The one in the center of the table generally wins... naked, bound, gagged and blindfolded. Legs bent at the knees and arms pinned behind her back, hog tied on her belly... pussy and ass wide open for torment. Hearing the conversations but not being spoken too, feeling fingers, hands, teeth on her skin but not knowing who they belong too. Maybe whispered violence in her ear from a stranger. Would the party guests find it amusing to drop food on her, hot food, cold food... to watch her jump with those sensations and then to leave the food there to dry on her skin. Would they insert food or utensils in her pussy, in her ass? Use their forks to poke her painfully and their knives to draw marks on her skin... terrify her? Perhaps a particularly cruel guest might lift her chest from the table and slide ice cubes under her breasts... her weight, as he releases her, a steady pressure on the freezing cubes against painfully hard nipples. So many beautiful, soft places to pinch, spank and pull on such a centerpiece. Fingers and toes, inner thighs, pussy lips, lips and earlobes, ass cheeks and that sensitive little spot just as the ass meets the thigh, soft hips, long hair, those intensely ticklish patches of soft skin laid over the rib cages... Yes, I believe she is the one I would like to be.

Erotica - Ice

Sitting at the bar with my Sir a delicious cherry vodka over ice is ordered up. When it arrives, he instructs me to drain the glass quickly leaving only the ice and cherries. I do as I’m told the alcohol rushing into my system as the cool liquid slides down my throat.

As the glass begins to empty he dips his fingers in and scoops out some pieces of the vodka flavored ice. Leaning in close to me, he whispers in my ear, “are you wearing panties, lil one?” I shake my head no, my eyes watching the ice melting in his fingertips.

He slides the ice up the inside of my thigh, gently forcing my legs apart. The ice is melted before his hand reaches it’s destination. He slides his fingers, cool with the water, over the outside lips of my pussy. A moan escapes my throat as we catch the attention of the man sitting next to me. My Sir makes eye contact with him but does not stop his exploration.

He dips his fingers into my glass again and takes the ice pieces he collects directly to my pussy, not allowing the heat of skin to melt them again. Without hesitation he buries the ice inside the heated walls of my pussy. I try hard to maintain control but the cold of the ice and the gentle sting of the alcohol is a shock and my back arches, my eyes close, my mouth opens in desire and a shiver passes through me.

He repeatedly stuffs the ice pieces inside of me, each time thrusting his fingers inside, moving the cool frozen liquid against the walls, his thumb finds the tight bud of my clit and slides teasingly over it. After several pieces of ice have been stuffed inside of me, when I think I can take no more, he directs me to sit on my hands and hook my feet around my barstool, leaving my legs open and my hands useless.

He stands up next to me blocking me from site of anyone else in the bar except for the gentleman sitting next to us. Sir slides his fingers deep into my cunt without warning or preamble. When I buck against his hands, he entangles his free hand in my hair and whispers harshly into my ear, “sit still, slut.” I try hard to do as I’m told but his fingers are thrusting in and out of me, the cool water from the melting ice cubes mingling with the heat he is creating in my cunt and I feel the combined juices flowing down my leg.

He kisses me on the mouth, catching my moans on his tongue and swallowing my lust. I know not to cum without permission and I feel the orgasm on the edge. Please I whisper against his mouth. Please Sir can I come? He nips at my neck, working his way up to my ear all the while working my pussy over with his fingers.

Biting my earlobe hard enough to make me cry out, he pulls my hair and growls into my ear, “yes, you dirty little whore — cum for me, now.” I feel the immediate crest of my orgasm with his next thrust, my hips meeting his fingers, the water gushing out of my cunt onto the floor.

He won’t stop with just one, he isn’t satisfied until he has racked my body with several more orgasms, until I’m begging him to stop. Only then does he let up, his fierce strokes becoming gentle as his hold on my hair loosens and his kisses sweeten.

Leaving me breathless and shaking, wrecked with pleasure, limp against his solid presence, he looks up to see the man watching in fascination. Sir smiles at me, gently petting my hair, his arms tight around me supporting me and waiting for my body to settle. He smiles at the gentleman sitting next to us and says, “What are you drinking, friend? You look like you could use another.”

Long Distance D/s

Long distance D/s, yes it is a real thing. Yes, it can be intense. Yes, it can last. Not every Master and slave meet in such a way that they can physically develop their relationship. Domination and submission usually begins in the mind long before the physical manifestation of that dynamic, anyway. So, long distance D/s fits right into that. However, having said all that... the other side of this beautiful, intense dynamic is that long distance D/s is hard. It takes a lot of work and commitment from both sides. Not unlike traditional, physical D/s just with a few added challenges.

In this modern day and age with all the technology, long distance D/s is easier than ever, but it is still harbors many challenges.

We spend our days texting each other, stalking each other's twitter acounts, sub-tweeting each other... we've even had a conversation or two over the phone. We are as close to each other throughout the day as being 453 miles apart will allow. He sends instructions, I follow them. We chat, we discuss everything from extreme sexual situations to what work we're doing that day or what fun we're planning in the upcoming weekend. Sometimes, we just cum... or edge me into madness *lusty grins*. The easy to use smart phone cameras, apps and youtube make it more real than just text on a screen.  He has seen me do things to myself that very few people have ever seen. He's seen me do things to inanimate objects that no one else has ever seen me do. He's heard me cum. He's heard me cry with frustration when the edge is totally ragged and still He tells me to stop. He's heard me beg Him for release, thank him and He knows what it sounds like when I say, "yes, Sir".

But there are some things that cannot be shared on any screen or communicated through any photo. He doesn't know the way I smell. He is unfamiliar with the way my skin feels under His hand, against His lips. He cannot see my hesitation at some of His instructions, my blush when I finally comply. He can't feel the quivering pulsing of my body when my orgasm is cut short at His command or the wetness and writhing that is created when I am allowed release.

I don't know what He smells like, what the curve of His neck tastes like or how the scruff on His cheeks would feel against the back of my neck, the inside of my thighs. I don't know how His hand would feel fisted in my hair, swatting my ass, gripping my breasts, or pinching my nipples. What will His fingers feel like against my heated, wet sex the first time He touches me? What will His cock feel like in the back of my throat, how will His cum taste?

Even with all of those complications, long distance D/s can be very intense. All you genuinely need is a good imagination. If you can get inside each other's heads, inside each other's fantasies, if you are committed to keeping it fresh and interesting it can work.

He says that one day we will be face to face. I will kneel at His feet, kiss the tops of His boots. I will know what His face looks like when gives a direction, the way His eyes light up as His control over me deepens. I will know what it is like to beg in His presence, to have my defiant willful moments destroyed with just a look, just a word, just His palm across my cheek. I will hear Him growl in my ear to cum for Him, I will hear Him say good girl and feel Him pet me, as I come floating down from His abuse, His humiliation, His depraved attentions.

I will hear Him cum, feel His body tense as He builds, releases. I will know what His cum tastes like and what it feels like when it dries on my skin. I will be overwhelmed with Him. Together we will walk into a fire hotter than anything I've ever experienced.

Until that day, we will continue to wrap ourselves around each other's minds. We will find every way possible to share those looks, those sounds, there are even ways to share the smells. He is amazingly intense and very, very good at keeping my attention. I can only hope that my submission to Him keeps His attention in the same intense way.

~~~~ 

Hold the heart of a submissive and she will walk through fire for you. Cherish her and she will dance in the flames

 ~~~~

The things I've learned

I am in a very floaty, very happy, very horny place. I'm supposed to be writing, but I can't seem to clear my head enough to figure out what to write about.

Maybe what I have learned about myself in one small day, is a good place to start.

What have I learned today?

I have learned that although I only own 12 pieces of furniture (not counting kid furniture) and my task was to edge and slap each thigh 10 times with my leather, studded slapper on each piece of furniture in my home today, I am actually going to edge 30 times and receive 26 x 30 slaps with a studded slapper today. Turns out, stairs, counters, appliances, toilets, and tub edges all get to be furniture today for my task.

I learned that I do not like the conversations with Sir where we have to discuss something I don't like or want to do. I know it is important to tell Him these things and I am very thankful that He listens.  There are things I am just not ready for yet and I have to speak up when they come up. But I do not like the conversations. I love that He doesn't just give in to me though. He may adjust the plan but the adjustment is going to come at a price to me. Today that price is 180 additional slaps with the slapper during my task... But that is better than the alternative plan that I was almost instructed to carry out when the conversation first came up.

I learned that I will put things in my mouth that I never thought I would. During one of my first conversations with Sir, He mentioned taking a ride with Him in His truck to make a delivery for His work. He said that had I been able to actually take that ride with Him, we would have seen just how many orgasms I could have by the time the round trip was finished. He mentioned that I shouldn't worry if I made a mess, He has leather seats and I could just lick it up when we got back. Not being a big fan of bodily fluids going into my mouth, with the exception of His cum, I sort of brushed over that... I mean, when was I ever really going to be in His truck. So licking my own wetness up off His seat wouldn't really be anything I would have to deal with.

WRONG

*sigh* again....

Edged to the point of leaving a wet spot on my living room table, I was instructed to lick it up... A little grimace, but not to bad.. it wasn't much, the table was clean... ok, suck it up and do what I'm told. Take the video and send it to Him.

Several edges later and a small lake on the floor at the foot of the stairs. Lick it up He says. Huge hesitation. I have wood floors and even though I sweep every day, they just don't stay very clean and this moment is no exception. And it was a lot of wetness this time.

I told Him I was having a hard time forcing myself to follow the instruction. That I was hesitating. I know there is a huge difference between following texted directions and following spoken directions in person. I was kneeling, naked on my living room floor trying to force myself to follow the instructions. I asked Him how that hesitation would be handled if He were here in front of me and then tried to imagine His feet in front of me as I read His reply, "I would grab you by the hair, slap the shit out of you, and force your face in the wetness. While you licked it up, that slapper wouldn't be gentle at all on your ass." I gushed a little and felt myself sink at the thought of that particular violence.

I'm very sure I moaned reading that. What I would have given in that moment for Him to have been really standing in front of me, instead of 600 miles away. I licked the dirty, wet floor... several times, swallowing my own wetness, gagging on it and wishing I had swept the floor this morning.

I am 16 edges in and 16 x 26 swats from my slapper, but they are all self inflicted. I can't help but wonder how incredibly far down I would be sunk right now, it if had been His hands bringing me to each edge and His hands holding the slapper. He terrifies me and thrills me. I can't seem to get enough of Him even when I am doing things I would have never, EVER thought I would be doing...

I need...

I am a needy slut. I am a greedy slut. I am a horny, lusty, filthy little girl. I want. I need. I hunger. I crave.

I need your attention. Every day. First thing in the morning. Before I sleep and all throughout the day. I need to be situated close to you in my mind in the mornings. I don't care if it's between your feet, the floorboard of the passenger side of your truck, on your lap, chained to your chair... I don't care where, as long as I can nuzzle your thigh when I think of you through the day, wrap my arm around your leg, kiss the tops of your shoes. As long as you can reach out and pet my hair, put your hand on my throat, slap my face, pull my wet, hot mouth onto your cock. Whatever strikes your fancy when the thought of me sitting there so close to you crosses your mind. I am at your fingertips all day. Any time you need me, reach for me and I will be there.

I need to be tasked by you and often. I don't care what the task is. Try me in this. I am not easily scared off and while a task may make me uncomfortable, may push my limits, give me pause or make me squirm a bit, I will complete it as long as it does not put my real life in danger. I don't care if it is a little task, a big task, simple, complicated, a research task, tweeting, edging, cumming, texting, spanking, writing, whatever you can come up with. I love being tasked by you. I love it when you issue directions to me. Your directions are so perfect. So concise. So detailed. I love following them. Anytime, anywhere.

I want so much of you. I want to see your face. I want to hear your voice. I want your cock. I want to see you stroking it, to see it cumming... knowing that you were thinking of me when it happened. I want to be in your thoughts. I want to be your obsession, the center of your Dominant desires. I want your words. I want your star fucks on twitter. I want your attention. I want to sext, to skype. One day I even want to meet. I want to feel your hands on my skin, to be marked by your lust. I want to see the change in your eyes as you stand over me, your Domination unquestionable.

I crave your control. I crave boundaries, rules, protocol, restrictions, discipline, maintenance. I love it when you want to pick the color of my nail polish, what I wear, who I speak too, panties or no panties, hair up or down, plug or don't plug, cum or don't cum, edge fifteen times then cum. Whatever you desire to control, I desire to let you. I love it when you watch me, when you watch my timelines, when you pay attention to me. I crave conversation with you, knowledge of you.

I hunger to taste your skin. Hunger for your touch, your mark, to know the way you smell. I hunger for your growl in my ear, your teeth in my flesh. I hunger for the darkness in you, the depravity.

I need that perfect, controlling, sexy, amazing, demanding, consistent, irresistible, Sir to adore... to love being His horny, lusty, filthy little slut.