Pick a Dom, Any Dom

As a submissive you are putting your life into a Dominant’s hands, and that can be downright trickyscarydangerousandfuckedup. I was lucky enough to be introduced to BDSM by my first real boyfriend Mike. Throughout the first couple of years of high school I was a pretty good girl. Then Mike came along becoming my best friend, my first Dominant, and eventually the man that stood next to me as I married my husband.

Mike turned me out.

My life has never been the same since meeting him. At the time he had a basic knowledge of BDSM. I was green. The more he showed me, the more I fell in love with him and this lifestyle. We were going strong exploring the BDSM as teenagers.  Then tragedy struck in my life, and while he tried to stay strong for me, we couldn’t make it work anymore as a couple.

We were young and dumb. I still didn’t understand that for me, I wasn’t just “playing a role”. That my submissiveness was a part of who I was, and not something that could simply be turned off when a relationship ended. Cue sub-drop of epic proportions. I can’t even begin to explain how dark that time was in my life. Mike and I remained friends, and he thank goodness suggested that maybe we continue the BDSM side of our relationship. In my head that simply softened the blow of not being together anymore. I didn’t realize that I NEEDED to submit. Which is why, when I was truly no longer in love with Mike I thought I could just stop submitting to him as well. We really were dumb. We started seeing other people, and the D/s stopped for us.

Another disaster, but this time, I couldn’t go back to him and kneel. I was lost. I remember getting on Fetlife and looking for a Dominant. I was going through that nasty nasty thing called sub-frenzy. Except I didn’t know it. I went through Dominant after Dominant giving myself emotional scars along the way. Not knowing what I needed, but simply that I wasn’t getting it.

Enter my dashing mentor. He served a similar purpose as to what ( Insert name here.. I really have to start learning some names) talks about in his Bigger Brother post. He helped me. He recognized my frenzy for what it was. He gave me the Dominance that I needed to be strong. He helped me understand my feelings; helped me understand what I wanted and needed from a Dominant; helped me understand that my thoughts were valid. That being submissive didn’t mean that I had to simply do whatever I was told by any Dominant, but that I had to find the right Dominant for me. For a while I really wanted that to be him. Sidebar:

I remember being in a hotel room with him after he’d provided me with my first anal orgasm. My gosh my body remembers that moment so well. He wanted to push me more. So we went to shower, and that night I ended up having my first and last golden shower. What still touches me about him, is that he didn’t allow me to simply say. I don’t like that lets move it to the hard limit side. He made me explore WHY I didn’t like it. I remember the Ah Ha! moment I had when it finally dawned on me that I do not enjoy feeling truly dirty. I don’t enjoy humiliation. It doesn’t make me feel good about submitting, but it sucks all the joy out of it for me.

It was little and/or big things/conversations like that that enabled me to become a stronger submissive. He let me know it wasn’t selfish or un-sub of me to know and ask for what I wanted. Now… truth be told because of that it took me a little longer to find the right Dominant for me. It was hard work, and there were some bumps along the way. A few relationships that still failed, but even those were more meaningful. My connection with those Doms were strong.

This writing all came about because as I was reading last night I came across a post where the writer relayed a conversation she had with a new submissive. In the conversation the newbie said something along the lines of ‘relationships are two way streets, don’t I get to pick him too’. Then this newbie was told NO. That she was simply to present herself, and if a Dom wanted her, then she would need to respond accordingly. That shattered me, and I politely disagreed. We as submissives are not meat to be picked over  as if meat on the the market. We have every right to choose our Dominants just as they choose us.

(Now, in a sort of Fetlife disclaimer if you are the type of subby to want that meat market style of life then so be it) However, not all of us are meant for that. Just life not all of us are meant to be 24/7 slave. So for those newbies, explore yourself first, and/or find a mentor to help your explore before you go off searching for a Dominant.

Never do you want to be in a position where you simply picking a Dom, any Dom, because your life is in the palm of their hand.

With all that said my experience was my own. I’d like to hear your thoughts on the matter. There should be a comment button somewhere down there… or up there maybe.

 

Another Sad Love Song? NO, Another Sexy Sex Song

All last weekend I was punished. Punishment is complicated. You hate it for so many reasons. You love it for, not so many reasons, but you do love it. Then there are times like this past weekend, when you don’t love it. Times when it just feels like torture that will never end. Those times you just hate it. You promise yourself to never, ever make that mistake again, as to never feel this way again. Which kind of makes you feel like Pavlov’s dog…maybe it is the collar that makes me feel that way…bad bad punishment.

This brings me to the point of this post. Ya know how when you are enduring  a bad breakup, every song reminds you of him. Every song is your song, every song is another sad love song. Well, let me tell ya, the same thing happens when you are denied sex. EVERY fucking (pun intended) song that comes on is indeed a fucking sexy sex song. I guess it wasn’t the best idea to listen to Janet Jackson radio on pandora, but it is pretty upbeat station, most of the time… Here is just a few that managed to drive me more crazy as the days passed.

I do love it when he takes me by surprise. It is rare when I don’t see it coming at all, but it sure is fun when I don’t.

This one just makes me grind my teeth literally. Then again Adam just makes me cross my legs in general, even with all those tats.

Self explanatory

This album was just amazing,

I am going to stop now, this could go on forever. Point being, last weekend sucked. I am glad it is over. I am glad he finally let me orgasm. I am glad that it went on and on and on in a way that only he can cause. I am also glad for sexy music. Music is complicated too  now that I think about it, so good, yet so bad. hmm food for thought

What Kind of Sex Was That?

Thursday night if you are regular reader you know was the premier of Breaking Dawn pt. 2 and I went. You also know that before the movie I was conflicted with my feelings of glee and apprehension. Glee because the year had passed so quickly and this date finally came. Apprehension because this was the final movie, and it was going to be all over after.

I watched in awe, and horror, and many other emotions, and when it was over, I kissed one of my girlfriends good night and got my in car. I was struggling with my feelings like an idiot I know. —-Sidenote, am I the only one that has a serious issue using hands free in the car. It is all good when I dial from my phone, but as far as dialing from the car itself i.e.”call dad home” gave me something completely different, and called someone’s whose number should honestly be deleted from my phone I couldn’t hit the end button fast enough—–back to story. I called another friend that didn’t get to come with us. In the middle of that conversation Jackson called. “You on your way home?”

“Yes two minutes out.”

“What is wrong?”

“It is all over?”

“The movie?”

“Yes” I could hear his sharp inhale through the phone, and him shaking his head at me.

“There is something wrong with you”

“I know, I’d like a Captain standing at attention to fix me.” he chuckled.

“Demanding, I think you are a sex addict.” I gasped on cue to that rude comment such allegations. “Is that you pulling in?”

“Yes sir.” I know that made him smile 🙂 “If I was a sex addict I would have had my hand down someones pants at the theater.”

“You would have if you didn’t have me to stop you.”

“You weren’t there.” I say walking in the door.

“Baby, I am always there.” he says turning to smile at me. We hang disconnect the calls, and I head up stairs. I did my nightly routine and headed to bed in my tank and one of my fave pairs of boy shorts. ( hey ladies do you have your fave pairs of panties? I am sure I am not the only one, and different faves for different things..I digress)  I grabbed my compy to write a little bit before the night was over. I wrote to you guys. My feelings were all over the place, because of a movie. I am the first to admit that is a bit crazy, but it is what it is. I finished up, tucked my laptop away. Jackson joined me in our room.

“How I am a sex addict?”

“I am no psychologist, but when you use a proxy like alcohol, drugs…sex to deal with your feelings. Think about it, happy sex, angry sexy, bored sex, morning sex, sex when you can’t sleep, sex before a big proposal and your nerves are shot, Lola has needs sex. You should really use your words instead of my cock all the time”

“Who are you and what you have done with my man?”

“He is still here, and willing to serve you, simply stating a fact.” That made me grin, I quickly moved to straddle him. gyrating slow and hard against him. The perfect lovely feeling of him growing beneath me. His hands moving up my thighs, under my shirt and to my breasts, squeezing them, my nipples finding their way between his fingers as he applied pressure. Moans escaping my lips, the look in his eyes instantly making me wet. THAT look, that makes everything in the world disappear into oblivion.

I pulled back from his touch and moved down the bed a bit, pulling his boxers with me. Releasing my sgt, standing so brilliantly, waiting for me. He sat up on his elbows watching my move back towards him.

“He is all yours” he said.

“Well how kind of you dear…. so I can do this…” I said taking his cock in my hand, stroking it, feeling it, the smoothness, the firmness, the ripples, each vein that screams power of anatomy, power over me, perfection even in the slight curve,  the tip, calling out to my tongue, ahh I love the way he feels in my mouth. Without a fight I give in and my tongue caresses the tip. A sweet bead of what is to come inviting me for more. My tongue slides up and down his shaft, mixed with kisses of adoration. I try to bid my time teasing him but I can’t take it anymore and one slip and he is inside my mouth, sliding down the back of my throat. My lips close around him. I suck hard, my tongue moving against him as I suck. He tastes good.

As I start to move faster, getting caught up in the way he feels inside me, he stops me. His hands gripping my hair brutally.

“That is enough.” in that tone.

Immediately humbled, and saddened that I had to stop, “yes sir” I squeaked. He got up and walked to the chest. I smiled big.

“On your knees ass in the air” I moved quickly and obediently. I saw the silver plug when he set it down next to me. yaaa I thought. His hand caressed my bottom as suddenly he pushed a finger  inside my pussy. mmm slowly he started fucking me with his fingers, adding a second, and then a third. My hips moving with his fingers. I don’t know when he stopped massaging my ass, but when his hand returned to my left cheek it came with burning fire.

“AH!”

“Don’t count I want you quiet.”

His fingers disappeared from my pussy, and I felt the wetness right there as his finger moved slowly into my ass, massaging my insides.  “Mmm”

“Don’t make me have to gag you”

“Yes sir”

He continued in the same way he did with my pussy adding a second finger, and finally a third stretching me before stopping and inserting the cold plug. With the pleasure came the pain. Each hand rained down on me in succession. One after the other. Leaving my ass burning and stinging more than the last time. My teeth clenched trying so hard not to make a sound.

The bed sank a bit with added weight, and I felt him on me. Against my sweaty back. He kissed my shoulder. “Not a sound”

damnit damnit damnit ooooo yes That perfect hardness slid inside me, inch by god given inch. Filling me, stretching me, so good. When he started to move faster, sliding in and out of me I started to lose it much too quickly in my opinion. How can he expect me to be quiet through this? I closed my teeth around the flesh in my arm as I started to reach, and as I finally came he pulled the plug out and I died. I felt that special warmth of his. My head heavy, hit the bed, and I started to catch my breath. what kind of sex was that? I thought silently. Can I talk now? Better not…

 

 

How Do You Do It?

Due to a particular email I received in response to a previous post. I got to thinking about how I ask for sex. In the post, I literally ask, but that is a rare occurrence. I was that nice because he was sleep, and in that situation I am making a request. Granted, though, I would never expect him to completely turn me down, I guess he has the option. Nevermind no he doesn’t.

Usually though, my requests aren’t really requests. Just a quick flirty text, to let him know what is going to happen when I get the chance. Sometimes I completely assault him, and take what I want. That sounds bad, but he never complains.Occasionally if  I am allowed, I just masturbate until he can’t keep his hands off of me.  Other times I am seductive, and I go all out getting ready for him. I don’t really see that as asking.  I know when he sees me, there is no question, just a matter of time.

I’ve narrowed it down to three situations where I am truly asking. 1, like in the other post, when he is asleep 2, when he is working, and I know he is going to have to shuffle some things around for me, and 3, when we are some sort of public venue, and I need him to be on board.

Then I started thinking about him asking. I came to the conclusion he never asks either. Not really. He either assaults me in the most perfect ways, or he “asks” in his Dom voice, and that isn’t really a request either. If it ever is, I can’t see myself ever turning him down. Even when I am angry I don’t withhold sex. My mommy taught me that. There was never a time where my dad was kicked out of his bed. But back to the topic at hand.

In my analysis I’ve come to the realization, that neither of us has really ever said no. I don’t even say no when he asks me to go again.  I’d never put my “don’t touch me” pajamas on after I knew he was wanting some of this ( I just laughed at my use of that expression). Which has sparked more questions. Do you ever say no? Is it normal for us never to say no?  This is what happens when you don’t discuss sex with friends, you end up turning to the blogging world. 🙂
And now the original question… How do you ask for sex?

My Don’t Touch Me PJ’s

Last night after I finished washing the dishes and putting my baby boy to bed, I showered. Then I put on my “no touching” pajamas. I am not the only one that has these right? Ya know the granny looking flannel ones. They aren’t sexy at all. I was fully prepared, to spend the evening catching up on my TV.

When Jackson came to bed, he looked at me an grunted acquiescing to my nightwear. He respects my “don’t touch me pajamas” unless the alter ego shows, and then, well, I have no choice, that is a more rare occurrence than my grabbing my “no” pj’s. I think he just dislikes the idea of my “no” pajamas. Who knows…

I was in bed watching, he was in bed reading, an hour later he turned off his light, and kissed me good night. Mid Castle, and right before bed time, I decide to check my e-mail. Then I decided to write a post I’ve been meaning to write forever. At this point Castle has gone off, and I am halfway through the news. It is way time for bed. Then I check my reader. Mistake one, I am browsing, and reading, and then I come across this. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have clicked, but I couldn’t help myself. I get all excited whenever I see a new post on Ken’s blog, just because, well, they are always so good, and hot, very hot. The untitled series def, hot. So I click. Mistake two.

I get into my reads, esp the good ones, I put myself in the space of the writer, and there I am. This time I am feeling his tongue on my nipples, followed by his teeth sending ripples of pleasurable pain through me. I am hearing myself moan as he teases me  between my legs, licking, biting, sucking my inner thighs, torturing me with anticipation.

Aw Fuck! I did it again. I can see my nipples stretching the flannel tank top. I can feel the dampness between my legs. I finish reading. I am sitting in bed hot, and bothered, and to my right is a sleeping lover that will fix my newly gained problem. I really shouldn’t wake him up. I should really get some sleep. I am really wet. Maybe it will go away.

I finish watching the news, and the late night show. It hasn’t gone away. I look at Jackson again, I want him, right now. I resign to wake him, he will live. I finish another quick e-mail, bitching about my little predicament. Shut down my compy, and put it away. I divest of my “no pj’s” and climb back into bed. It would be much easier if he would sleep on his back. Ah well. I snuggle up behind, moving my hand under his arm, to his chest.

“Baby” I say softly, nudging him. No response… “baby I need Thor”

“odd grunting sound”

I plead with him, while moving my mouth to his neck, kissing him, “please”

“jamaz”

“They are gone.” I say, sliding my hand down his chest, past his abs, and into his boxers.

He shifted to his back, looking at me, still half sleep. I moved quickly, a hint of a smile came across his face. He nodded, raising his hips off of the bed pushing his growing cock into my hand.

“thank you baby, I will be fast, promise” I said moving down the bed. Quickly releasing Thor and taking him into my waiting mouth, sucking him to life.
Jackson’s hand moved to left hand, holding it, letting me know he was with me,  before a gasp escaped his lips, as I moved faster. Suddenly I dragged my teeth against him.

“mmFuck Sam!” sitting up on his palms. He glared at me, I smiled up at him.

Lifting my lips from his dick, “I need you awake.” I said softly, but before I could return Thor to my mouth Jackson had me on my stomach, my face, pressed into the pillow, and his lips against my ear.

“I’m awake.” he said, not so softly, nanoseconds later he slammed inside me from behind. My moans muffled by the pillow as he rammed into me, again and again, pulling my head up by my hair so I could breathe. Fucking my cunt so hard and as I promised, I was fast, the tingles came with the white lights, with the burst of fading colors as his teeth sank into my shoulder, sensations colliding, as he filled me.

Crap, I took a shower tonight so I wouldn’t have to take one in the morning. Ah well. Serves me right. I have to stop reading before bed.

Marked

I believe “marked” is the title of a post on one of my favorites presser’s blogs. They know who they are.

Friday night I was able to get comp tickets to Eric Church. He put on a pretty good show. (I wonder how much better it was because the ticks were free.)  After, Jackson had the brilliant idea to stay at the hotel around the corner, the night got better.

I was reminded of the “marked” post because of a sighting Saturday morning while washing his back. Usually when I see marks it is all over me. The various bruises, welts, burn marks from chafing on a insanely long scene he has imagined. This morning though, I was able to view my handy-work. The long lines that ran down his back and towards his sides, made me smile, then made me laugh.

“I am sorry baby.”

“How bad is it?” he inquired.

“I don’t think you will die.”

“That’s a relief.”

So here is the thing. I lied, I am not sorry. I enjoyed seeing what my nails did to his back, in that moment, when I lost control.  Those marks are one sexy reminder. I think I may make them more often. 🙂

 

Web of Ties~Pt. 2

Read Part 1

Sliding out of my pussy the dildo made a sloppy sound, and I could feel the juices seeping from my body. My head was reeling, how many times will she make me cum? I thought. Feeling Rachel’s lips encircling my clit, the words escaped my lips before I could stop them. “Rachel please! I need a minute.”

“You need a minute?”

“Yes just give me one minute.”

“Scream my name, and I will give you two.”

“I did scream your name,” I said panting.

Rachel’s head lifted, our eyes meeting, “No baby, not like that, you know how,” her head lowered again, blowing against my pussy “you know what I want to hear, I won’t stop until…” she trails off her tongue flicking my clit. My nails digging and clawing at the sheets on her bed. “How does it feel?”

“It feels good, baby you know it feels good, you always feel soooo good GOD”

“You’re getting close, again, I can feel it right here” she said sliding her fingers inside me hitting my spot.

“Ra…Rachel! Right there…YES Rachel!” I screamed as I came again my body a quivering display of weakness and pleasure. Smiling up at me she asked,

“Was that so hard?”

Before I could respond there was a knock on the door.

“Oh girls, I hate to interrupt but you need to wash up for dinner.”

“Thanks mom!” Rachel yelled after her irritated. I could feel the heat in my cheeks knowing Mrs. Rhodes hear us. I pulled Rachel up, kissing her deeply, thanking her for the day. Our tongues playing a game of tag and seek, tasting myself on her lips. She broke away grinning, “To the shower, I want to watch you unravel one more time before dinner.”

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

“Dinner was great Helen I had no idea Rachel was a fan of Greek food. I have a feeling I am going to learn a lot about her on this visit.”

“Oh if you want stories dear, I have them, “her mother exclaimed clapping.

Charles chimed in “Maybe you shouldn’t be so anxious to embarrass your daughter Helen.”

“Oh but this is my job as a parent, to embarrass her in front of the boyfriend, well girlfriend excuse me.” She giggled.

I was falling for Rachel’s mother already. She was bright and fun loving. Full of life and joy. I could see where Rachel gets it from. I silently wished my family could be so loving, so accepting of this life I’ve chosen. My thoughts are interrupted by Charles.

“So I hear you and Rachel are planning to paint this small town red tonight.”

I glance at Rachel, my eyebrows raised, “painting it red, oh I don’t know about all that sir. I do want to go dancing though. I may be able to drag your daughter onto the dance floor for a few songs.”

“You’re a dancer?” Helen asked placing far too big of a piece of pound cake in front of me.

“Occasionally.” I smile “I wouldn’t call myself a dancer though, every once in a while on the weekend, at special events, weddings and such. I do love line dancing though.”

“Oh Gina, you will have to teach our daughter, that girl has two left feet.”

“Well from whom did I get these two left feet mother?”

“We are not talking about me my dear.”

“Of course not mother.” Taking Rachel’s hand in mine, caressing it with the back of my thumb calming her. She has such a hot cold relationship with her mother, I can’t quite figure it out.

“You girls go ahead and get out of here. I hope Rachel continues to show you a good time Gina.”

My eyes shot to his catching his meaning. “Thank you Charles, I am sure we will have fun.” We headed back to Rachel’s room, and she threw on this green dress, that made her red hair glow. I love touching it, and can’t resist, my fingers are drawn to it. I reach out for it, pulling her head to me again to kiss those perfect lips.

“Uh Uh, I can tell what you’re thinking, later.”

“Promise?” I said threw narrowed eyes and a grin.

“Promise. That blue looks great on you by the way. Now grab your purse we are going to be late.”

“Late for what?”

“That is for me to know and you to find out,” she said as we walked out the door.