Here, there be smut.

Master kept the breast theme going this weekend. My ta-tas have had an extreme workout! Stick a fork in them, they are DONE.

I shouldn’t ought to say that, huh? He probably would stick a fork in them, mean old bastard. (Have you seen the pictures/video clips of women with those long skewers going straight through the tits??? Holy FUCK I want none of that shit. Hellooo.. crybaby-kaya over here! *waving* None of that boob-kabob (kaboob? *snicker*) stuff for me, thanks!)

I adore him. Does it show? ;-)

And then shit got serious. Seriously painful, that is.

I was trying to zen. Become one with the pain. ~Ohm~ ~Ohm~

And then he did this. Totally ruined my zen.

My nipples will never be the same! I think they’ve grown an inch this week.

Then he got *really* mean.

And I developed a ’tude… (I really wanted to zen!)

But he has badder gear.. So he wins.

“arms out…”

“I said – arms fucking OUT.”

Following the mean was a blow job… and that was fun.

*nom nom nom*

Following the blow job was a doggy style fuck with more swinging nipple clamps. Again fun. But, nipples? So much of the ow.

And following THAT was some raunchy-ass, down-and-dirty fucking. Not sex, certainly not “making love”. We fucked. And it was nasty and messy and I squirted and he did too and I came so hard I thought I peed on him. But I didn’t. I don’t think. Honestly, neither of us much cared.

Then later, we fucked again with more swinging nipple clamps, under the desk, and it was just as good. And just as ouch. Which made it better.

So.. I’m bruised. I’m sore. My holes hurt.

I’d be up for more.. but Master flew out the this morning. *sniffle* A week (hopefully no longer than that) in Oregon. Any Oregonian (Oregonite?) readers? I told him he should go to the Wet Spot. I hear that’s the happening place in those parts.

I think my poor boobs need a week off to heal anyway.

~cunt

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Slippery When Wet

The Master’s biggest frustration? A nipple so slick with blood that the clamp won’t stay on.

The cunt’s biggest frustration? A pussy so slick with greed that the vibe won’t stay in.

But never fear! Turns out they make clamps that don’t slip – no-how, no-way.

I did not, however, manage to dry up long enough to keep the vibe in. :-(

Life just ain’t fair.

~cunt

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Coincidence? I think not!

It was only a few days ago that I was explaining the "bed of nails" theory to Dan and Bethie in regards to mass amounts of clothespins. For anyone who doesn’t know, the theory is that using a lot of clothespins actually hurts *less* than using just one or two because the pain spreads and evens out over a larger area.

While the theory does hold true in my experience, the "mass amount" of clothespins is somewhere in the neighborhood of ten or twenty.

I rather impishly advised Bethie to use a hundred clothespins. Because I’m a brat like that.

But karma is watching me like a damn hawk.

I really wasn’t even surprised to come home from work this morning to find a little love note left from him. It said:

TASK TODAY!

100 clothespins

Because I’d tempted fate, you see. Yesterday’s task? That I swear to GOD I was going to do, I swear I was. Yeah I was all pouty and I-dont-wanna and foot-stompy about it, and I joked about not doing it, but honest to Pete I had every intention of doing it. But then Fate sat up and said "Oh look! Some cocky little cunt wants to tempt Me! I’ll play." and came along and royally fucked up my day and it really didn’t get done and of course Master comes home and reads that smug little post that was really just a silly jokey thing anyway and he thinks "Oh look! My cocky little cunt wants to tempt Me! I’ll play." and instead of yesterday’s task that was as simple as "just do some clothespins" I get this:

TASK TODAY!

100 clothespins

Now, I know he doesn’t follow my tracks on the computer. Reading blogs isn’t really his thing. He’ll look at y’alls pictures! He loves the pictures (who’d a thunk?) but he doesn’t read very often. So I know he didn’t know about the conversation between Bethie and I. And I sure as hell didn’t mention it to him! You just don’t voluntarily remind a sadist that we even own 100 clothespins. (why did I think he’d forgotten what we own? Silly goose.)

So there you have it. Karma or Fate or Coincidence.

Or stupidity on my part. I am not ruling that out.

Anyway – about that bed of nails theory? It is null and void on 100 clothespins. Does. Not. Work.

Do you know how long it takes to attach 100 clothespins to yourself?…lol. And do you know how freaking hard it is to reach around them to find a place to put one that doesn’t already have one on it? And did you know that you should do the pussy first so that you aren’t jostling around two tits full of clothespins trying to reach it? I do now!

Well, at any rate, it hurt. By the time I got them all on and got around to taking the pictures my hands were shaking so bad I didn’t think I’d get any in focus. But no-fucking-way did I care either. But also, neither was I taking a chance on not doing it right and having tomorrow’s ante upped to 200.

Did I mention that it hurt?

The removal – SUCKED!!

They look like the Bride of Frankenstein’s tits! tee hee

I will not tempt fate again. I will not tell anyone else to do something I don’t want to do. I will not procrastinate the easy tasks when harder ones wait in the wings.

Ah who am I kidding… I will too! :D

~cunt

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