Sex

We had really good sex the night before last. There’s nothing unusual about us having great sex. I didn’t want to have sex though. Not at first.

Although at first, He just wanted His dick sucked. And I wasn’t in the mood.

Even though I vow (repeatedly) to stop grumbling when I’m not in the mood for sex stuff, I always grumble when I’m not in the mood for sex stuff. Because, well, because I’m not in the mood.

There is a price to be paid for keeping me so damn spoiled. I begin to expect it. I begin to think that I deserve to be listened to and coddled and that I should not have to perform such acts when I’m not in the mood. I mean honestly, just who does He think He is anyway?!

Besides, He’d already told me earlier that HE wasn’t in the mood so I totally didn’t even have my game face on.

So I grumbled and I stomped and I reminded Him that He didn’t *want* sex and I scowled, as I kneeled between His legs and took His limp dick in my mouth.

And to top it all off, to add insult to injury, not only did I have to stop what I was doing, but He wanted me to suck His dick while He played His stupid video game. Some manly shoot-em-up x-box army-man guy-thing game.

There is nothing sexy about sucking dick with grenades and machine guns blasting in your eardrum and an x-box controller resting on top of your head. Nothing.

I may be a fairly decent cocksucker but not even I can compete with things that blow up. He remained limp, completely NOT focusing on me or my mouth. And I start questioning why I bother. Silently of course, though I tried shooting Him a few “looks”, but shit, He wasn’t looking at me!

I sucked and licked and moaned and groaned to myself about how unfair this was and how insulting it was and what about me? and who’s going to get ME off? and Jeez Louise, it must be NICE to just have someone around that you can snap your fingers at to get your willy slobbered on and…

Well, so you get the idea anyway, right?

Then I felt guilty because I started to compare myself to all these other people I read who never grumble and who are just so bloody graceful in their service. Who seem to find such pleasure in what they do, probably even in sucking cock during Ghost Recon (or whatever He was playing) and I kind of hated them all a little because I will never be that wonderfully, spiritually, pleasantly obedient. Ever. I just won’t. I’m head-strong and I’m selfish and I have pms and I’m grumpy. I’m mouthy and opinionated and argumentative. I’m assertive, I stand up for myself, I demand things! I’m all of those things.

Then it just kind of dawns on me that, while I am all of those so-called negative things, I was also kneeling on the floor between His feet when I wanted to be anywhere else but there, my own feet long-since asleep and full of pins-n-needles, the x-box controller bopping me in the head every so often, bombs going off in my ear, being paid absolutely NO attention whatsoever, doggedly trying to suck off a limp, uninterested penis.

I suddenly felt lots better about myself. I was doing what I’d been told to do, and maybe battling those demons and obeying anyway is just as admirable as those who do it with a purer heart and head.

At any rate, in spite of a less-than enthusiastic start, I must have done something right because the game was turned off and I was tossed unceremoniously onto the bed and got my brains fucked out.

No grumbling going on then. ;-)

~cunt

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike

The Whipping Post

We went to the local munch/play party last night. So far I’m incredibly impressed with the people that we meet. Did you know kinky people are everywhere? I’m feeling so less alone these days. That’s nice.

Once again I was propped up and tied up and bent over for the apparent beating use by people I’d just met. I suppose at some point I’ll stop blushing when the introduction jumps from hello to naked in 2.3 seconds.

It’s an odd mixture of emotion that I run through when strangers are behind the wheel. I want Master to be proud so I bite my tongue and grit my teeth to suffer through it more so than I would with Master alone, but the fear level is much higher, too. I keep thinking that these people don’t know me! They don’t know where my ‘not-good-pain’ spots are or whether or not I prefer floggers over paddles. I’m on a heightened sense of awareness, waiting almost, for someone to go too far or hit too hard.

And there were some blows that landed in the wrong spot, some that were hard enough to cause me to dance away, and each time I’d hear Master in the background, correcting the one swinging. Words like “she doesn’t like it that high” or “swing it this way and she’ll respond better”.

That was comforting, in a very detached sort of way.

At one point He held me close, whispering into my ear “How do you like being the whipping post?” and I melted.

I like it just fine, thank you, very fine.

After one such session He instructed me to thank the nice gentlemen who’d whipped me and it seemed an endless stream of thank you Sir’s (was really only 4, maybe 5?) while they hovered around, caressing and remarking on the heat radiating from my behind. “You’re a furnace!” one man said, laughing.

I think what is most surprising to me is the liberty they take, seemingly without a moments pause, to stroke and tug and touch on my pink bits. I know Master was watching as their hands passed over my cunt as I was bent over, or stroked and plucked at my breasts and nipples, intimate moments of body contact, rubbing against me, speaking softly in my ears. It had a very sensual and orgy-like feel in the darkness of the room, with the music pounding away in my ears.

Yet, I continued to seek Him out, to need to know where He was, and to not feel complete until it was His body I was leaning against and taking comfort in.

What a strange new world this is turning out to be.

~cunt

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike

Is anyone else not getting comments emailed to them? I’m trying to figure out if it’s my email that’s fucked or LJ.

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike

Today’s post brought to you by the letters I, A, M, A, B, I, T, C and H

Things that amuse me today:

Watching as the lives of people who wished me ill-will in the past are falling apart. Oh that crazy Karma. How I adore thee.

And noticing that they are utterly ignored. All I can say to that is you reap what you sow.

The waitresses at the Chinese buffet we often go to. They snatch your plate away from you the very *second* you scoop that almost-last bite of food up. You are done when they say you are done. No soup for you! This amuses us as a family.

The dog pooping just on the very, very edge of the property line between us and the neighbors we hate.

Watching as another neighbor, who once lectured me on the importance of allowing free expression in children, is now locking her free-expressing daughter in juvenile hall on a regular basis.

Knowing the man who left my sister after 18 years of marriage has jumped from the frying pan into the fire, while my sister has moved on and into a new relationship. Serves him right, I’d say.

Children throwing screaming temper tantrums in public. I will never have to go through that again.

The cat making a running leap for the birdcage and missing. Cat? Meet Wall.

Irritating people with my journal. Most amusing. Apparently “click the X” does not compute for some.

My son’s astounding ability to find a sexual innuendo in everything. Oh, the joys of puberty. Equally amusing is watching Master do the same thing. They never outgrow that.

A “slave” who hung for nine hours by one ankle. In the back yard. Would you like a side of bullshit with that order?

Watching people pay the price for their lies. Don’t they know that lies only snowball? Silly people.

Larry Craig. There are worse things than being gay you know. Jeebus.

The Wal-mart greeter at our local Wal-mart who insists upon greeting and farewell-ing every.single.person. If ten people walk in at once, you will hear ten “Hello! Welcome to Wal-mart!”s and if five people walk out you will hear five “Thank you for shopping at Wal-mart”s, even though the people are long gone by the time he finishes. And if you have to get something from him, like a return sticker, he’ll holler it over your shoulder as new people come in and out. It makes me giggle.

PMS. The power of pms amuses me, simply because I know that Master is envious and wishes He could harness that power.

That is all.

For now.

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike

Ode to PMS

To the tune of Simon and Garfunkel’s “The Sound of Silence”.

Hello hormones, my old friend

You’ve come to visit me again

Because the anger softly creeping

Left it’s roots while I was sleeping

And the discord that was planted in my brain

Still remains

Within the flood of hormones.

These grumpy days I’m all alone

Cussing at even the telephone.

‘neath the glare of the medicine cabinet

I reached for the giant bottle of midol

When my eyes were caught by the glint of the chocolate

That filled the bowl

And I fed the hormones.

To my pms I say

Go away, come back n’ermore

You wreak havoc upon my life

Every month you cause me strife

Not even the kitties can bring me happiness

as long as you

flood me with hormones.

PMS you do not know

How I hate it when you flow

Hear my words that I tell you

I’m getting medicine to kill you

I’m ripping the control away from you

And giving

it back to Master.

And hormones, you will obey!

Listen to the words I say!

The Man is giving His warning

The paddle, it is coming

And I have said, the words of the Master

Are written on my ass cheeks

In welts of fire

To halt the surge of hormones.

~cunt

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike

“The only real failure in life is the failure to try.”

I’m still obsessing rather too much over Master’s comment the other day. Enough so that it’s become inappropriately huge in my head and irritating to Him.

Probably doesn’t help that I’m expecting pms to swoop down and fuck my world up any day now either.

I want to be able to take the comment and do something constructive with it. I want to be able to use it in the manner that it was given. I’m trying, but pride and feelings and stubbornness keep getting in the way.

I just keep thinking that since on that particular day I hadn’t altered my attention to Him or done anything differently, then His comment encompasses every day since every day is the same and if I had (apparently) “failed” Him in some manner on that day, then I must be failing Him in some manner on every day.

And if I’m failing Him every day, and I didn’t even SEE that I’d been failing Him at all, where exactly does the onus fall to *fix it*? If it’s me, then shouldn’t I at least be told where it is that I am lacking? Does He really just get to make some general, tossed-out, pithy statement without some constructive criticism or some direction?

So yeah, He can do whatever He wants and say whatever He likes, but if it’s said as an attempt to change something, I hardly see what value it has if I don’t even know what to change.

He does this though. He showers me with compliments all the time and lets me get comfortable, lets me think that I’m doing/saying/being exactly what He wants, until, just seemingly out of the blue (to me) He informs me that not only am I slacking, but that I’ve BEEN slacking.

Well what the fuck.

It’s not that I think I’m all too perfect to slack. I know I’m not. I can identify those slacking areas without a map. But why the false security then? Why lead me to believe that slacking is acceptable when clearly it is not?

I’m not always sure which one of us is responsible for maintaining the order of things. Both? Him? Me? If my purpose is to serve Him to the very best of my ability, and then some, is it also not His purpose to make sure that I do? And once I’ve started to slip, from the very get-go, if I don’t correct myself, shouldn’t He? Instead of being LENIENT.

Gah! Leniency is going to be the death of me yet.

It seems that we both have a natural tendency to let things relax when actually, neither one of us are happy in that relaxed atmosphere. So why the difficulties in keeping it at the level we want?

Fuck if I know!

I’m assuming that the burden is on me to maintain things. I’m certainly not looking for ways to make this more work for Him. Nor do I think He needs to give me a detailed list of what needs to be stepped up. I’m making my own list here shortly.

But this business of letting me think that something “less than” is acceptable when it clearly is not has got to end. So nobody wants to be a Hardass all the time, I get that, but, how’s this leniency working out for Ya, huh? And I suspect that being a hardass wouldn’t have to be a forever project either.

It’s like little kids. Once they understand that you aren’t going to budge on a rule or expectation, they adapt and usually pretty easily and cooperatively. Then the parent gets to stop being a vigilant hardass as long as when and if it comes up again, they STICK to their original ruling. As soon as you waffle, you lose all the ground you made up and are back to almost square one.

But I’m not a kid and I’m fully aware of these psychological wargames so why can’t I just get it right the first time and every time? Maybe because I give only as good as I get. Maybe because my natural tendency is not toward obedience but toward pain and use. Maybe because I need more active input than another, more self-directed submissive.

Maybe because I suck and am not worth the time and effort.

Oh lets not even start that pity party.

Okay, so Master is still insistent that I make a list of what I do for Him all day, only now He also wants a list of what else I could (should?) be doing for Him in a day.

Typical day:

Get up (before He does), have coffee poured and ready. Make His breakfast. Serve it to Him.
(It’s arguable that I’m getting up *for* the kids and not for Him. But nonetheless, I AM up first and I do have coffee/breakfast ready when He gets up)

Wait outside the shower with His towel and towel Him off after His shower.
(We’ve tried other variations of the shower service. Like having me get in the shower to wash Him as well, but when it comes to time restraints, just having me towel Him off seems to work best. That was His choice.)

Doing household chores
(This is a hard one for me because I don’t think that He sees it the same way I do. What I do during the day is probably stuff that I would do even if He weren’t coming to see it every evening. BUT, it’s not done in the same way that I did it before Him, nor is it done with the same intent. For me, it makes it a service I do *for Him* but I’m pretty sure He’s dismissing it. So maybe I shouldn’t even have this on the list. Cross it off.)

Cooking
(The same thing applies to cooking as cleaning. Even though I know that how and what I cook when it’s just me and the kids at home compared to when Master is home is *vastly* different, He’s already made the claim that I cook for everyone and not for Him specifically. Cross this off too.)

Laundry
(I do not do everyone’s laundry the same way. I DO give Master’s laundry “special” attention *most of the time*. I sort and wash His clothes differently. I fold and hang His clothes differently. And by different I mean better.)

Yardwork
(I am an avid outdoor, yardwork, gardening HATER. I never in my entire adult life had flower gardens or vegetable gardens. The most I ever did was mow and that was only when I absolutely HAD to. Learning how to garden and actually finding pleasure in it stemmed *entirely* on Master’s interest in it. His participation and praise created the desire to do it *for Him*. Now I like it, but should He express disinterest in it, I’m sure I’d be quick to follow.)

Dressing and Appearance
(I wear dresses. I look like a sunday school teacher. This is not my fashion choice. It’s His. Anyone who has been a stay-at-home mom or wife will probably understand me when I say that the pull toward “grunge” is hard to ward off. It’s all too easy to toss on those sweat pants, throw the hair up in a pony and go on about your day. But I do try to have my hair fixed and some make-up on, and a dress on, before He comes home. Most definitely something that I would not be doing if He weren’t home.)

Taking His boots off
(That should be obvious.)

Serving
(Fixing and bringing Him His dinner plate, drinks, or whatever else He asks for throughout the evening. I’m His gopher.)

Making myself available
(I always clear any activities with Him based on what it is that He wants to do. If I know that I am going to need to make a trip to the store soon, I ask Him if He wants me to go while He’s at work or wait for Him to come home. Does He want to go with me or send me off alone. How does He want to spend the evening. What does He want to do. I try very hard not to plan His evenings for Him while also trying to balance the kids impromptu plans in there. I tell them no more often than I would if Master weren’t here simply to try and ensure a quieter, more relaxed home time. I think if He sees me say yes one time He’s maybe not seen that I’ve said no 7 or 8 times before that. I don’t set out to sabotage His evenings.)

Get His glass of water every night
(obvious)

Chain
(I’m not chained into bed for my health! I’d think that’s *for Him*, although it may not qualify as a ‘service’)

Coming to bed freshly washed, teeth brushed, and ready for any sex should He want it
(That may seem like an odd thing to add, but I don’t think it is. Even though I shower every day, I make it a point to scrub my pink parts every night before bed so that I am fresh and clean for Him. This is not something that I do when He isn’t home. I brush my teeth when He isn’t home but I don’t make sure my crotch is shiny pink and smelling like roses! So to me this is a service I perform specifically for Him.)

I guess that pretty well sums up what I see as specific services. I’m sure about ten more will come to mind during the course of the day, because I really think things become so routine and normal that they stop sticking out as “special”. And I hope that maybe that’s some of what’s going on with Master as well. Maybe He’s so used to things that He’s stopped seeing it as a service? (I hope.)

So now what else can I be doing to increase my services for Him.

First and foremost is the improvement of the services already in place. I am a natural-born slacker and there can definitely be closer attention paid to cleaning, to making better-tasting, more nutritionally balanced meals. Being more observant and proactive in the serving process by watching for His plate to empty so that He isn’t left having to kick me under the table and look pointedly at His cup or plate. Or in trying to anticipate what He’ll want or need. In short, be that doting submissive of His fantasies. Eager Beaver type!

Obvious improvements to attitude and demeanor. There is no reason (‘cept pms ;-) for eye rolling or huffing sighs when asked to do something. Even if it means having to shut off the vacuum cleaner to do it. No reason for reluctance to bend over for His cock or His belt either.

Don’t lose the Battle of Grunge. Ever.

What can I add:

Foot service. Instead of waiting to be asked for it, either offer it on a nightly basis or just get the stuff and do it.

Earlier bedtime, which translate into telling the kids that we are going to bed so that we have some amount of alone time for play or sex or whatever that doesn’t cut into sleep time. That’s something that is talked about a lot but never seems to happen. Mostly because it involves reprogramming the kids to get their stuff done earlier. Homework is drug out until late and I have to be there for that, I have to make sure they, well, B-man mostly, doesn’t try to skip his shower and teethbrushing or try and extend his bedtime by 5 minutes here or 10 minutes there.

Um. Hmm. I dunno. Most anything else is stuff that we’ve already tried and rejected as feasible in our relationship or is stuff that would require work on His part and that’s not what I’m trying to do here. I’m really open to suggestions here, Master. If there is something specific that You want done, You’re going to have to tell me. I’m all for self-improvement and self-awareness but come on, help a girl out wouldya?

One more thing that can be added to the “service for Master” list is going to Curves every day, which I am going off to right now! Yeah maybe it’s for me too, but it’s not me I’m thinking about when I look at my body. It’s Him. His body that I need to take better care of.

~cunt

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike

Quick Question for a Friend

For the ladies.

For any of you that have the larger labia minora, is there anything that can be done for the pain/pinching sensation during sex or other activities, other than plastic surgery to remove the tissue?

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike

Going Public

I asked Master the other day if it bothered Him *at all* that more people have seen my cunt than the population of the city we live in.

It does not.

Awhile ago someone made a comment on the journal with a link to a site and the comment said something like “I could be wrong but isn’t this your vagina??” Sure enough, some stranger had a picture of my vagina on their website. The infamous candle photo. Master was tickled pink by the whole thing. I was.. I don’t know what I was! Someone stole my vagina! I should have been angry or something, right? But.. He wasn’t, so I wasn’t.

It’s all been fine, really, since I’m hiding here behind the anonymity(I cannot pronounce that word to save my life) of my monitor. So sure there’s been some 2 million hits on the journal but so what?? Y’all are way over there somewhere! You’re thousands of miles away from me! I will never have to look any of you in the eye and think to myself “you saw my pussy.”

But apparently *some* of you are not “way over there”. Some of you are pretty close actually. SOME of you were touching my boobs last weekend and didn’t even *tell* me that you were on my f-list.

Very surreal.

But very cool too.

I *loved* the Saturday event in Madison so, so much. It was the most awesome-est thing, to be in a place where, not only can I let my guard down and be myself, but it’s actually considered normal.

Initially Master had not put the big collar on me because you just never know what’s going to be considered appropriate. But without it on, I felt out of place among these people.

Wonderful people, really. There was so much to see and not enough time to see it all. I’m absolutely delighted that we went, and that we’re going again! I think it’s going to be so much fun.

I wanted to see everything but crowds were gathering quickly around the more mainstream tables. The whips and floggers table was about 6 deep, same with the electric play table and the canes, etc. The only table completely empty? Needles and medical play.

Come on! Needles! I heart needles. So I led Master led me that way. I was like “yay! needles! poke me poke me poke me!”

The most delightful young man was more than willing to poke me. (did you know who I was at the time?) I was really shy about taking my top down. It is not the same thing to show bruised tits here and to show them in front of a gathering crowd of strangers. I was embarrassed of the bruises. I really was afraid of what they would think of Master.

Isn’t that silly? The one place where it is okay to be bruised and I’m worried they’ll think ill of Him for it. But they didn’t. Of course they didn’t. I’m such a dork.

He was proud as shit though. He was all “yeah, look at the marks, blah blah blah.” :D

Anyway! So this needle guy wants to do a corset on me, but I didn’t want it on my back. Most of the allure of needles, for me, is seeing it. If I can’t see it, it doesn’t work quite the same way. So he did it in the front, which was way cool.

And he’s gooooood. Magic fingers, I swear. I didn’t feel anything. Nothing but the tiniest of pokes. Was awesome. He even did a “button” that was painless until he started playing it like a violin. THAT woke up the nerves a wee bit.

We couldn’t take any pictures there so I asked Master to do another needle corset last night. It was so good the first time, I wanted to do it again here at home where I could fly off to la-la land. But (isn’t there always a but?) the needles we have are bigger and Master pokes deeper or something because it hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.

Pictures of needles back here

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike

Presents!

So none of you wanted to know what the deviant act was. Fine! *huff* Be that way then.

:-P

Master bought me a present yesterday. He’s always buying me some sort of silky-sexies to wear for Him. I’m really a very spoiled whore.

He bought me some sexy-ass slippers to parade around in front of Him wearing, slippers that accentuate my legs and force me to walk with a twitch in my hips. He has great taste when it comes to women’s clothes, blending the perfect amount of comfort with sensuality.

So hot did I look in my new slippers that He immediately stripped me of my clothes, leaving the slippers on my feet, and fucked me like the whore I am.

I don’t know for sure where He got them but if any of you other sex-pots would like some, I can ask!

Wanna see teh sexiness?

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike

Lighten things up a bit.

Something specific that I did just for Master today.

I dressed in a wide, black leather collar, all four cuffs and the penis gag. And nothing else. Met Him at the door when He came home for lunch, plate in hand.

Got on my hands and knees in front of Him and served as His table.

Bent over for a quick and painful belt spanking.

Bent over to be fucked.

Bent over for another perverted act that can’t-be-named-because-it’s-one-of-those-taboo-topics-that-nobody-talks-about-because-they’ll-be-crucified-by-the-vast-majority-of-those-open-minded(cough)-bdsm-folks. Suffice it to say, Master is a sick and twisted man.

Lucky me. :D

Now, call me crazy, but I’m thinking this differentiates me from a vanilla wife. If not? I missed out on the fun of vanilla. ;-)

I don’t mean to make light of what is a serious (to me) issue in the previous post. It’s still there, but given the opportunity to do this for Him today felt very much more necessary than any other day. I’m grateful He chose to come home for lunch today and allowed me the chance to serve Him. I really needed this.

And, as promised, pictures of the graveyard.

pics

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike