Rules of Being Owned

Rule Number One- There are no rules except the ones you make.

In the last day or so I’ve thought about the rules Sir has set for me more than usual. Partly because of the question posted here, and partly because last night I had a more difficult time than usual following a rule. Particularly the one that prevented me from doing this 

I can be a pretty independent woman. I have a pretty decent head on my shoulders, and for the most part I don’t like to need people. (As my relationships got more serious, that was always a problem for me) So when it came to the rules a Dominant would want to impose it was sometimes a struggle.

I once served a Dom that wanted to control everything. When and what I ate. What I wore. When I cleaned. How often I contacted him. It did’t last long. I felt stifled, and micro-managed, and just bad.

Now I serve a Dom that in reality probably has more rules than the aforementioned one. However, his rules make me feel cherished, loved, special, and owned. Sir’s rules remind me that I don’t belong to myself, they send me further into my submission, and that makes me feel hot and whole.

So you won’t find me complaining that I have to exercise four times a week, or that he knows my schedule for the day, or that if there any major changes I must notify him, or that I am not allowed to wear my hair up without permission, or that paying a bill late will have negative consequences, or that I have to take 30 minutes to myself daily, or that I must wear an approved outfit when we attend lifestyle events, or that I don’t dare orgasm without his permission, or that I can only masturbate on Mondays.

The list goes on, but those are rules I strive to obey.

Because I am submissive

Because I am fulfilled

Because I serve

Because I love Him

 

 

A Submissive Reaction

Late last night, or early this morning rather I couldn’t sleep. I perused websites, and finally went to my e-mail where a piece of fiction was waiting for me. I read it almost hungrily, and when I was done a spark was lit and I wanted more.

Throughout the day new pieces found their way into my inbox. Each one bringing a sense of excitement and anticipation with its arrival. Leaving me with more want, and a feel of pure greed at the end.

What struck me about my reading is just how strong of an attraction is felt between a submissive and a Dominant. It is like we are drawn to them in any form, even the fictional ones. I am reading about this faceless, nameless, man. I know that he is commanding. I know that he is patient. I know that he has that voice. With those three things, I am in. I am there, I am with him and his budding sub, watching them evolve. The seduction is intoxicating.

Then in the midst of the story the Dom said two little words that sent me spiraling. “Good girl” It seems that when those two words are spoken by a Dom as a sub, I react. Whether they are said to me or not. I feel grateful, pleased,humbled, and happy that whomever is hearing them has pleased her Sir to the point that he felt inclined to utter those two words. It is such a submissive reaction.

Day 18 &19

I beleve 18 (Any kinky/BDSM pet peeves? If so, what are they?) has been covered already.

So I am moving on to 19-Any unexpected ways kink has improved your life? If so, what are they?

I am happy. I honestly don’t think I could ever truly be happy without it. This lifestyle, is a part of who I am. I need it to function properly. When I go too long without,  I miss it. Sounds like a drug huh? I guess it is to some extent.

Kink has provided me with one of the most fulfilling relationships I could have ever hoped to have.

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. 🙂

 

Sweet Freedom

I have the best mother in the world. Let me tell you why.

I am sitting in bed with my laptop about to make a post about how sick and tired I am of being quiet. Every year I have to adjust and it is such a pain. Then my phone rings.

It is my dear mother.

She tells me that she wants to spend some time with her grandson. So I hand my son the phone. I hear him talking.

…”a football game?”

…”with the marching band?” his face is lighting up

…”what about grandpa?”

…”Yes!”

…”okay I will pack…here mama” (I got the phone back)

 

He is spending the weekend with Grandma and Grandpa! They have a fun-filled weekend planned with high school football tonight, and then off to see the Cougars play tomorrow night. Now although I am more of an NFL gal, and a Sooners fan. I am so excited!

I have two nights. Two nights and I am almost positive my dom will be present for both of them. More so, I will be free to let my Sub Flag fly. Free to  scream, cry, beg, yell, whimper, and enjoy all I want! Free to wake up the next morning and appreciate all the bruises and marks I hope to get. Sweet freedom I tell you. Sweet Freedom!

Now off to assume a fave position…

 

 

 

30 Days of KINK~Day 18

Day 18: Any kinky/BDSM pet peeves? If so, what are they?

Of course I have pet peeves, don’t we all. I am not sure how long of a list this will be. I have  a feeling most of these will be all encompassing.

1. Close minded people that think we are crazy for doing WIITWD although I’ve learned to ignore them.

2. People that attempt to push others beyond their limits. I completely understand being pushed TO the limit, but beyond is a whole other story. I think it is unloving, and disrespectful.

3. Disrespectful people all together. Is it tacky to mention the golden rule here? Regardless it applies.

The end of my very short list of pet peeves.

 

 

Juicy

Juicy…

He loved to go down on her when she was ovulating… lets face it, he loved to go down on her at any time, but especially when she was ovulating… he loved how her reactions were that much more intense, how she squirmed and purred and tried to get his mouth exactly where she wanted it to be…

He loved how she tasted, clean and musky with a slight note of citrus, but what he loved more than anything, was how amazingly wet she got for him… he would play with her and tease her, nibbling the tender flesh on the inside of her thighs, kissing gently her swollen outer lips until he could taste the wetness seeping through them onto his tongue…

That was when she would start to whimper quietly, and he would feel her hands winding through his hair as she pushed his face closer, as she lifted her hips, silently begging him to do more, to push through her lips with his tongue, seeking out her exquisitely sensitive clit…

And right at that point, right at that moment before the tip of his tongue touched her clit for the first time, he would pause and she would hold her breath in glorious anticipation… waiting for him to lap up her generously flowing juices, and lick his tongue slowly all the way along her inner lips up to her nub of nerve endings…

Of course, whenever he did this to her he made her wet, but when she was ovulating it was as though she was trying to drown him in her juices, as she lifted her hips, rubbing her sopping wet pussy against his chin and his lips and his nose…

“Please baby,” she would murmur in her bliss… “please baby, i need your cock…” but she knew that he wouldn’t give it to her, she knew that she had to cum first before she could have it… he insisted that she cum first, insisted that his pleasure could wait and even though he knew how badly she needed his cock inside her, when she was ovulating, he always made sure that he pleasured her for just that little bit longer to make sure she was sloppy, wet and dripping liberally… her juices wetting his face, the bed and drizzling down the inside of her thighs…

Because for him, there was simply nothing like that feeling of sliding home when she was awash and begging for him…  nothing like that feeling of taking her when she was fertile and ready for him… nothing like bottoming out against her fleshy ripe cervix as she pulsed and throbbed from her orgasm… and his balls ached from just the thought of it… from the thought of emptying his seed into her… of pumping her full of his essence…

And as he pulled into the driveway from work, his balls heavy with cum and his thick cock hammering against his zipper to get out, he knew it was going to be one of those nights that he would remember for a long time… well at least until next month anyhow…

~ Isabella ~

I found this and had to share with you guys, while I continue to suffer from writers block.