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

 

 

Because of Becca…

I came while bent over my bathroom vanity this morning. I will start at the beginning.

One of the many sacrifices I made with the career change was giving up my weekly massage. It was difficult, but my chiropractor tamed the change in three ways. One. Becca is kind of hot. Two. My insurance pays Becca. Three. Becca massages low.

My masseuse Angie was wonderful, and as massages go, my time with Angie could be described as fairly intimate. I would walk in strip, and Angie would do magical things to my body.

Until Becca my experiences with chiropractors were cold. I saw them post car-wreck, they would put me in room, attach the electro-pads to me, tug, push, make me crack, and send me on my way.

Becca was noticeably different from the first time she pulled my panties down to massage my lower back. I didn’t mind the electro-pads, tugs, pushes, and cracking from Becca because each session ended with my feelings as if I’d enjoyed a ‘half-body massage’ instead of an ‘adjustment’.

Now that I am off for the summer, my morning routine has changed, and I get to enjoy watching Jackson move around as he prepares for this day. This morning we were in a heated debate about Labor Day weekend; I am dreading spending it in Hilton Head with his family. No- with his mother. I digress. Walking out of the bathroom I flippantly declared,”thank god I am going to Becca today, she can work off this tension in my neck.” I couldn’t stop my footsteps fast enough as I felt his hand grab and then wrap around a fist-full of my hair. This is when time seems to slow a bit. My pulse quickens. I am suddenly hyper aware, because I feel the change.

I am not often the bratty type I swear. This morning though, I was irritated. So when he asked if I was going to Becca so she could make me feel good, I looked straight ahead as his grip tightened against my scalp, the thrill sending tingles throughout my body, and I said “she is going to make me feel great”. I knew what I was doing, but to be honest, it was fun. What happened after was even more fun.

As if my hair was a leash Jackson pulled, and I stepped backwards towards him my back flush with his chest. My breathing betraying all attempts to hide my arousal as he lowered his head to rest on my shoulder momentarily before trailing his tongue up past my neck to my ear.

“Does Becca make you feel this?” He inquired in a whisper.

“No Sir.” I responded, barely audible. His left hand circled me, caging me in, and then drifted, agonizingly slowly under my blue teddy, past my mound and directly into my heat. He turned us so that we faced the large vanity mirror.

“Look at you. What about now? Does Becca make you feel like this?” He said harshly in my ear. His fingers curved hitting that perfect spot. My head falling back against his chest, as he released my hair to allow his right hand to circle my clit. Losing proper function of my legs, I reached out with both hands against the vanity to support myself.

“No Sir she doesn’t.” I admitted via half moan, closing my  eyes as my hips began to rock forward against his hand, and backwards against his cock.

“Really, open your eyes, look at yourself. You are humping my hand. Can Becca make you feel this?” He asked again as he withdrew his fingers from inside me. I moaned in protest, and he quickly unsheathed his cock before thrusting into me.

It is always so perfect the way he feels with that first thrust, my body quickly adapting. Throaty, raspy, moans, and pleas rip from my throat as he fucks me. Hard. Deliberate. Punishing. Thrusts.

“When you see Becca today, and she has her hands on you, I want you to remember this.” Each phrase punctuated by another breathtaking thrust inside me.

“Yes Sir.” I yelled silently begging for the release that was coming far too quickly.

“Do you want to come for me?”

“Yes please Sir”

Will Becca ever ask you that?”

I grunted in frustration. “No Sir. Please!” I begged as he intensified his assault on my clit.

“Come with me baby.” And beautiful little white spots burst behind my eyes, as he burst inside of me.

So when I was splayed along the table, and Becca pulled my panties down and out of her way, a soft moan escaped my lips, but I didn’t tell Becca it was all her fault that I sort of

looked like this

Kinky Sex Club

as I came while bent over my bathroom vanity this morning.

 

Tuesday are so Awesome

There are a few reasons why Tuesday is high on my list of favorite days of the week. In random order Tuesdays is considered “Two for Tuesday” by many in the Houston area, for me is Touch Yourself Tuesday, and then in this wonderful blogger world we have TMI Tuesday.  I’ve decided to sort of combine them all in this post.

Two for Tuesdays is the weekly funhouse at the R&B radio station here in Houston. They play two songs of an artist back to back, all day long. It is  a lot of fun because you often to get hear music no longer in rotation, or sometimes even some songs that were never in rotation. How many times do you hear a song by artist you haven’t heard from in a long time, which reminds you of another you like? Well on Two for Tuesday you get to hear them both! I love it. Can you tell?

So keeping in line with Two for Tuesday, whilst doing TMI Tuesday, I will be give you two sets of responses. One of which is mine, and the other a male buddy of mine. His answers are bold, mine are italic.  Here we go…

1. Answer Yes or No:
I Regret My First Kiss: No No
I Miss My First Love: No, No, he is still an active part of my life.
I Married My First Love : No, No we could never work long term as more than friends and lovers, funny how that something can be missing.
I Loved Someone That Didn’t Love Me: Yes, Yes, however it was only momentary, once I figured out that he didn’t feel the same I was done.

2. Do you consider yourself monogamous or polyamorous or some other category which you will explain or define for us now?

Monogamous, Monogamous, I could never have an actual relationship outside of my marriage. Can I say that even though I am not married yet? Now my future hubby has once before been pushy with me; encouraging me to have sex with one of my female friends. I think if I expressed the desire to do it again he would be all for it. On the other hand he would probably drop me like piece of molten glass if I dared the same with a male. When it comes to him he can look, but he better not consider touching. I feel like that is the doorway to all things damaging to a relationship.

3. Your partner is in the mood for sex and you are tired – what do you do?
a. Start snoring. There is no way I’m giving it up tonight.
b. Trade. You give me a massage… and we will see…
c. That would never happen!

B, B, I would never start snoring, that is just rude and inconsiderate. I do have times where I don’t want to be touched. When that happens I don my PJ’s that tell him just that. Usually he respects that, however, there have been times where I’ve been wearing my don’t touch me PJ’s and  he ignores them. At that point I sort of realize that he apparently needs me more than I don’t want him, and I let him have his way with me. It isn’t miserable, a quickie that leaves him sated, and all is well.

4. Does your partner mind if you masturbate, in bed, when they are there?

No, No, but I am only allowed to do it on Tuesdays. On those days it is simply a part of foreplay.

5. Describe your typical sexual romp:
a. You are playful and tame
b. You have occasionally introduced a few things like outfits and toys
c. You love trying new things and shocking your partner

B, B, This was a process of elimination. Even as a submissive I would never consider myself tame sexually, so A is out.  C, sounded good, I do love trying new things, but I can’t think of the last time I shocked Jackson. I think doing wiitwd especially on the subbie side, truly shocking is sort of hard to achieve. Maybe I should try though eh???

Bonus: What was your best ever masturbation experience. Why was it the best? Describe

The male friend and I were in debate about this answer. I only consider masturbation, masturbation if you are the one stimulating yourself. He disagreed, he considers a hand job masturbation as well, so here is here answer: “when i hadnt cum in over a month and i was jerked off in bed. i drenched her”  I immediately thought WTF  a month??? WHYYYYY, but I contained myself, that is none of my business. Since I didn’t get that information, I can’t forward it on to you.

My best ever happened to be last week. I believe there is something about someone you can’t have. What is it about the forbidden fruit? Last Tuesday I was expertly teased by my doppelganger Mari. I ended up taking a late lunch due to the long distance fun we had all morning with our words. However, that private time I had in my car was amazing, and totally unforgettable. I don’t know if it was the build up of tension, or the fact that I parked on a lower level than usual, with much more foot traffic, I don’t know why it was the best. It was one hell of an intense orgasm, that made much too big of a mess, and has me smiling just at the memory.

Tumblr 4

 

Masturbation, wrote a post about it, here it goes…

1. My favorite place to masturbate is: in my car. I suppose my bed or the bathtub would be better. However, I am only allowed on Tuesdays and my Dom has usually sent me close to the edge of combustion by noon so that I can’t help but touch my self at lunch.

2. Have you ever masturbated in public? What were the circumstances? Define public? Ah what the hell, yes. A drunk version of myself at a swingers party while the couple I was “with” gave me a break.

3. Do you like mutual masturbation? Why? I didn’t used to, but I quickly found out that it was a problem with me. I wasn’t confident or comfortable enough with my body or the other person. Now despite how rare it happens, I do enjoy it. Something about watching him handle Thor.

4. When was the last time you masturbated? Last Tuesday, and I have every intention on tapping this pussy tomorrow.

5. Have you ever masturbated on camera? Yes, makes those business trips a little more interesting.

6. Do you like to watch people masturbate? People in general– not so much. Jackson absolutely, as mentioned before I love watching him handle himself. The slow strokes, the firm strokes, the look in his eyes while they beam at me.

Bonus: Have you filmed yourself masturbating? Care to share that film via a link? Yes, and not a chance in, well you know.

Brought to you by TMI Tuesday

I Smiled

My heart was still pounding, but slowly returned to a normal pace, my breathing slowing as well. I was hot, the sweat seeking escape from between our bodies. Jackson lay motionless, still inside me. His teeth not leaving my shoulder.

My hair clinged to me along with the distinct smell of sex. I needed a shower.

When he finally rolled over to his side of the bed, my body welcomed the breeze of cool air.

My hand drifted to my neck, moving the perspiration down my body to my breast. My nipples still perked and sore from the activities. I circled them with my fingers and continued on. The creamy wetness met my fingers. I swirled it around my clit, a moan escaping my throat. I brought my fingers between my lips and sucked softly.

“Sweet isn’t it.”Tumblr 3

Caught wet handed, I put my hand down, and I smiled.

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…

 

 

Breathless

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