Abstinence Sucks Nasty Balls Day 8

I still haven’t brought myself to fully write about my conversation with Sir last week. Which in turn has kept me a little closed off here. A lot of my emotions over the last week is tied to what is going on us Us.

So here is a bit of a run down. I haven’t had an orgasm in 8 days!!!!

I would say that I am miserable, but it doesn’t quite cut it. While completely realizing that people live in chastity for insane amounts of time. I kind of feel like I am dying. This morning Sir used my mouth. That isn’t a phrase I use very often, because it doesn’t often fit our dynamic, but this morning he did. I’ve been used as a vessel on and off for the last week as punishment, and I almost want to cry.

I don’t cry. Though, I am getting there, and now I am wondering if that is what Sir is waiting on. I don’t know. I just know, that I am very much ready for this to end.

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



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


I thought about turning to some anonymous blog, but why do that, when I have all of you!

You know that moment when you are building, and building, and you are so close. Your breathing erratic, your mind is half way to some dark abyss of nothingness, and in that moment you are silently begging him with your eyes to let you come this time. Begging for him not to stop, ready to give your life for what you know will be seconds of seemingly unending bliss.

Then it begins, this cosmic burst of nerves, and pleasure, and good, so good, and you realize you can’t breathe. Your breath is caught somewhere in the back of your throat, caught somewhere in time. You want to breathe, but your body fights it, seemingly shutting down to feel every bit of THIS, every convulsion, every second of THIS, that seems to keep going, and going, with new sensations of cold, and hot, and tingles, and bright bright starry lights,  and you’re dying to feel air in your lungs again, but this feels so good, and suddenly you inhale so deeply you seem to lose your breath again,  because you can’t seem to get enough of it, you began hyperventilating, then his arms.

His arms are there around you, consoling you, bringing you back to equilibrium. His arm are there to bring you back to the here, and the now.  You cry. You cry because it is over, you cry because it happened, you cry because of what he can do to you, you cry because he possesses you, you cry because you are no longer your own person, you cry because you love him, you cry because you’d do anything to feel THIS again. You cry because you have no earthly idea how you got from the couch to your bed, or how long you’ve been here.

Ah, reason has returned. The tears have subsided, and his thumbs are wiping the last of them away. When you look at him, the look he gives you, that look that can only be seen in moments like these, that look that makes you love him that much more.  You kiss him, a kiss him full of reverence, gratitude, lust, but mostly love. This kiss, that moves you again, not to achieve THAT feeling, but just to be one with him again.

wait wait… that was not the point of this post, my goodness can I go on and on…

I am asking a question. Question is, has anyone ever fainted mid-orgasm?

I literally thought I was going to pass out from oxygen deprivation. I am used to being breathless for a few moments, but for some reason this time, it just seemed to go on forever. Don’t get me wrong, I am not complaining. I just wonder considering there was no breath play involved at all, if anyone has passed out… do tell.

Now that I’ve written, today is Tuesday, and I get to play by myself. mas

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.

SubSpace and AfterCare

I received a message in which a new submissive wanted to know what subspace and aftercare was. Talk about a loaded question. So as promised I am posting here in response.


I assume that both of the subjects are relative to those whom are involved. I believe there are different degrees of it. I can say I experience two types, one when he is denying my orgasm. It is a place of intense sensation, hypersensitivity, and psychological torture for me. It feels good and it hurts and eventually I am gone. It is hard to describe. I don’t pass out, I am there but I am gone.

The other Subspace for me is a dangerous place to be. It is a time in which I have no control over anything in my body. I am aware of what he is doing to me. I am not aware of how much it hurts. I am not questioning the bruises that will come. All that matters in that moment is that I am pleasing him. Whatever it is he is doing to me, he wants it, and I do not have the mental faculties to object or wish otherwise.  Dangerous because to me, he could go down my list of hard limits scratching them off one by one, and I wouldn’t care. Subspace is bliss. A different type of bliss.With that said, I think subspace is different for ever sub, as each person is different. This is why to me, finding a compatible dominant is so very important. Which leads me to our next subject.


Again it is all relative. There are hard scenes, and light scenes, sensual scenes, and everything in between. All of these can require aftercare. There is both physical and psychological care needed. In the midst of a scene chemical changes within the body can occur. There are sometimes endorphins released. Endorphins are a natural drug. Think of it as a high. You must give your body time to come down. Otherwise, you have withdrawal symptoms. After a particularly hard scene other physical needs need tending to. You may be hungry, you are often thirsty. All of these fall under aftercare of the physical.

Psychological aftercare is the cuddling, the hugging, the kissing, the approval you feel when he says “good girl” or “you have pleased me.” It is when I am full of sobs from everything he put me through, and now he consoles me.  All of these secure you, they bring you back  into the realms of reality, the real world as it were.  Personally sometimes aftercare is fulfilled by his making love to me. The connection is powerful, it mends me.  Not to beat the phrase, but it is all relative. I can not express how much of these aspects of a D/s relationship will depend on the D/s. I’ve heard of Dom’s sending a sub away in shackles, kicking them out the front door when they were done with them. Although this would be shattering and hurtful for me, it seems to work for others.Again compatibility is vital I feel. My sir knows what I need and I leave it to him.

In addition, I have no idea how or if a Dom experiences Domspace 🙂 I do believe my Sir has his own version of aftercare. It includes caring for me, but after a hard scene is when he is most open with me. We talk for hours, it is a like peek into the depths of his mind that he doesn’t always share with me.

Now I open this post up to all sorts of comments. Reflecting on my experiences makes me wonder about others. What is subspace for you? What do you need during aftercare?

Hey doms! Do you experience some sort of DomSpace? Do you too need aftercare?


Lunch Date

So I am sure like many of you, I LOVE my job, most days. Today was not one of those days, today was crappy. Meeting after meeting, and then an unexpected lunch meeting, that threw off the timing on my lunch date with my dear.

Side-note: we always have our lunch dates in a parking garage on a high level where passing or parking cars are rare.

Back to story: Today when I pulled onto our level he was already out of his truck leaning against it waiting on me. I got out and handed him his sandwich and started ranting about the day. He ate, with a slightly amused expression on his face, and then I realized how rude I was being. The conversation went like this : “I am so sorry babe, how is your day going?”

“Good, closed on a Richmond house today.”

“Cool. . .(silence except the sounds from the loop)  I am trying to think of something happy and brilliant to say, I’ve got nothing”

“Get down on all fours,” he says in his non dom tone.

“Was that supposed to be happy or brilliant?”

“That’s an order,” he replied in his super dom tone

yes sir, blitz attack- cue the pussy tingles–  I moved quickly to my hands knees. He opened up the back door of his truck, pulled out a piece of plastic tarp maybe?, and placed it behind me on the concrete.

“Raise your skirt.”

I obeyed, sinking to my hands and knees, thighs pressed close together. I looked back at him, and watched him take his belt off. oh shit. He knelt down behind me, and pulled my panties down, rising again. The belt lay relaxed against me, before he started to slide it back and forth on my bottom. It felt cool against me, and then it was gone. The first blow came. The swish through the air, followed by the smack on my ass, sent burning sensations across my backside.

“One!” I yelled

“Count to five, you lead”

“Two!” The second blow was harder, I winced, my breath catching in my throat.”Three!” An even harder lash. wth??? “Four!” A blow that made me cry out “Fuck! babe”


I hesitated and another blow came, softer than number four, “Five!” The sixth blow hurt so bad I bit my lip to the point of tasting blood.

“Face to the ground, spread your legs, let your hair down”

I obeyed again, and suddenly he was kneeling behind my again, I could feel the firmness of his dick on my ass as he leaned against, pulling my hair in a tight grip, yanking my head back. He kissed my cheek, and rammed his dick inside my pussy, stilling. I let out an an assortment of intelligible words. He pulled out leaving me breathless, and then his thumb was inside me exploring, making moan.

“I’m going to fuck your ass, you need to relax.”

“Sweety here? I don’t think that is a good idea.”

“Excuse me? Telling you was a courtesy. Brace yourself.” I planted my hands more firmly, they hurt the sediments of the concrete digging into my palms and knees. Then his thumb slipped inside my ass” Before I could register it and respond, he had my face against the concrete, with my ass in the air. He thrust his cock deep inside my pussy once more, withdrew, and then pushed the head of his cock in my ass.

“OH GOD FUCK baby” I exhaled

“Shh, you don’t want anyone to hear you, RELAX” fuck him shushing me, relax, relax, relax, as I relaxed the intense pain turned to pleasure and he started to move slowly in and out of my ass. My breath quickened, between my moans of pleasure. His fingers reached my clit and he started to massage me. He moved in and out of me faster, my orgasm becoming closer, and soon I felt the warm rush of him as his fingers knotted in my hair. His fingers left my clit, and he pulled out of my ass. He stood, leaving me there. I watched, out of breath and disappointed as he walked to my car, went into my glove box, and pulled out a panty liner he knows too much. He walked back to me, placed the liner in my panties, and pulled them up. He helped me stand, and pulled my skirt to it proper place, smoothing out the bunched wrinkles. I looked at him bewildered.

“You will have a better rest of the day. Get in the car, I will fix you tonight. After a South African dinner.”

“Yea, ok.” I got in my car and drove off happy.I was looking forward to going to one of my fave restaurants, and the fun he promised  after.

P.S. Despite the literal pain in my ass, I did have a better rest of the day.