A Nursery Rhyme

(To the tune of Three Blind Mice)

(mememememe!)

Three waxed sluts.
Three waxed sluts.

See how they squirm
See how they squirm.

They begged to the sadist to “Make it burn!”
She pointed and sneered to “Wait your turn!”
Us silly girls will never learn!

Three. Waxed. Sluts.

Ta Da!

*beams*

So my headless cohorts and I were reluctanly dragged, kicking and screaming under threat of great bodily harm, to our molten lava demise-

Okay okay. Fine. Not really.

In fact, as soon as “wax play” was uttered, at least one of us (No names mentioned. Squeakers!) was naked and on the floor purt near before the first match was lit. Eager beavers, I tell ya.

And speaking of beavers- pulling wax out of pubic hair is just… it just fucking hurts.

We had a most excellent weekend. Naked girls and evil men (and evil women!) milling around my house gives me the warm fuzzies. This is how life is supposed to be. Naked, well-fucked, and grinning from ear to ear.

However.

The next time that we all get together, I’m going to mount a large, blinking neon sign on the wall that reads “A Little Less Talk, A Lot More Action.”

In fact, let me lay out a proposal for group voting:

Next time, everyone who comes in the door puts on a ballgag. Yes, even you Toppy-type folk. Gag yourself (and stop whining. It’s not THAT bad!)

That way, the “talking” will be done with your hands. Or your toys, your teeth, your whips and canes and ropes and…

All in favor, say Aye! raise your hand.

Motion passed (it’s my world and in kaya’s world, I make teh rulez.)

BYOB- Bring Your Own Ballgag goes on the next invite.

Seriously, they talk too much.

And by they, I mean Master.

*snicker*

(Poke The Sadist- the kinky version of Pin the Tail on the Donkey)

Poor Alderon has been wanting to tie up some girls for weeks now.

Next time. *nods*

~cunt

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Leaving your mark.

So. There are a couple of reasons why I’m posting these.

They’re not of me. They’re of the squirter.

I think that’ll be her name now. The Squirter. Hee.

The first reason is that I find it utterly fascinating how much men like it when they see their handprint adorning someone’s ass.

The second reason is because The Squirter, just a few short days ago, was mortified to be seen naked in public.

So. Yanno. I figure the best way to get over that is to be splashed naked on a website that gets a couple of thousand hits a day.

And, too, I just like knowing that she’s squirming right now. :D

She’s a right neat squirmer. And squealer. She’s a full night’s worth of entertainment all by her lonesome.

Me? I’m a quiet masochist. I kind of dive into myself and try to suffer quietly. I often fail, but I like to think I’m quiet. I’m quiet in my head anyway. I don’t care what the rest of you hear.

Squirter, on the other hand? She sings. Delightfully.

Wait.

Squirmer. Squealer. Squirter.

Hee! Too funny.

The pair of them are a joy to watch.

Energy, connection, interaction. I got horny. *nods*

Maybe it’s the snow. I mean, it’s too cold to go outside most of the time so we’ve all got to find something else to do. Indoors.

Maybe all that bitching I do about the weather should, instead, be grateful mutterings. Cuz, all y’all Yoopers are kinky motherfuckers.

“What? It’s snowing again? Guess I’ll tie you up in front of the fireplace again!”

Hell yeah.

BTW, we aren’t moving.

*beams*

Oh! I almost forgot.

At the party, Master gave me a butthole full of icy hot. His “revenge” (that so violated the statute of limitations that my Slave’s Rights lawyer is practically salivating in glee!) has been extracted.

I know.

*yawn*

I mean! Um. Ouch. Owie. Oh, it burrrrrrrrned!

(what? poking the sadist with a stick is my new hobby.)

;-)

~cunt

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Fun!

(Warning: Non-consensual humiliation play to follow.)

(And it’s not MINE! w00t!)

You know what’s way cool?

Sitting about two feet away, and on eye level with, a woman’s spread-open pussy while she’s being flogged and slapped and Hitachi’d to death- and having her SQUIRT at your FACE!

Hee.

Srsly. Master and I squealed and dived for cover under the blanket to avoid being showered.

It was so awesome.

Needless to say, the play party was great. We were going to have a “How many subs does it take to haul a Harley” contest but it was getting dark so that’s postponed for next time.

BBQ chicken, chocolate, naked girls and evil men all in one room. The stuff dreams are made of, yanno?

I got some goodies, too.

I started to cry a little bit during and I really hate to cry. I mean, it’s fine with just him but in front of other people? Ugh.

Then I got all embarrassed cuz, well I don’t know why exactly. Because I think I have something to live up to because of the blog when I really know that I don’t.

It’s just hard to seperate it all sometimes.

Anyway! It was great. We didn’t get home until almost THREE A.M.

We’re usually in bed by 10pm, for goodness sake! We’re too old for 3am.

God. Does it feel good to live though, yanno?

Damn. Fun.

~cunt

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Midol Cures Subdrop! News story at 11!

‘Tis true. *nods*

Or, at least Midol cures those I’m-going-to-start-bleeding-any-second-now blahs that highly mimic subdrop.

I knew I didn’t usually drop THAT hard. Apparently, the combination of mild subdrop and pms equals some fantastically wicked blues. Way cool, yeah?

Of course, had I any inkling of impending period-ness, I’d have waited to wash those fucking sheets, if you know what I mean. Oy. Story of my life, I tell ya.

Anyway, a couple of recipes that I need to share before I forget (again). We had a dinner/play party over the weekend and one couple brought a jello salad that was uber nom, plus, my buns got good reviews and I’ve been instructed to post it so they can have it. :-)

My bread buns, not my ass buns. Pervs.

Mandarin Orange Jello Salad (People love this—good for a potluck!)

Ingredients
1 small box orange jello
1 small box lemon jello
2 cups hot water
1 can lemon pie filling
1 cup juice from mandarin oranges
2 cups drained mandarin oranges

Directions
Pour boiling water into a bowl. Add both jellos and stir until dissolved. Stir in pie filling (using a wire whisk to blend and smooth). Add juice and drained oranges. Let set in refrigerator.

Bread Machine Dinner Rolls
1 cup very warm water
3 heaping Tbsp sugare
3 Tbsp oil
1 1/2 tsp. salt
3 cups bread flour (tap cup to settle flour while measuring and then level off)
2 1/4 tsp. yeast (or 1 packet)

Directions
Add ingredients to bread machine and set on dough cycle. When finished, remove dough from pan to a lightly floured surface. Do not knead. Gently shape into a rectangle and use a knife to cut into 12 semi-equal pieces.

I grab each piece and pinch it in my fist, just to get it into a ball shape with a relatively smooth top. Place in a greased 9×13 pan, cover with a towel, place in a warm spot to rise for 45-50 minutes. (I make a warm spot in the oven by setting the oven to 200 for just 2 minutes, turning it off and placing the pan inside.)

Take the pan out, pre-heat oven to 425F. Gently brush top of rolls with some melted butter. Bake for 12 minutes or until rolls are a light golden brown. Brush with melted butter again after baking, if desired.

I make these to use for buns for deli sandwiches. But they’re great with just some butter for plain old dinner rolls, too, and go really well with soups and stews. I’m not sure how they’d fair for use as hamburger buns as they might be too sweet, but I’ll probably try it and find out. They’re pretty darn yummy anyway, I must say.

Lots of chores and errands to make up today considering that I spent the last two days mourning the end of our kink-fest. *sniffle*

We didn’t take just a whole lot of pictures this time. Too busy doing it to worry about the camera (though I do have some clips I need to put up, mainly that face fucking clip that those other pictures came from. Srsly, that was the best face fucking session we’ve had yet, imo. It was teh awesome and the movie is great.), although Master is adding pictures to his Fetlife profile that I would happily remove. Bastard.

But I’ll share this real quick:

On Saturday night, Master got some instructions on rope work from Alderon, a dude from our local munch. It was the first time we’d really spend any time with him and his girl (and for real, does it ever get easier to go from “Hello, nice to meet you.” to “Strip, cunt”? I mean, honestly!) and I just have to say, again, that the kink group up here is phenomenal.

Anywho, he tied me up. And it was good.

Hopefully, this will inspire Master to do more bondage. I heart bondage. Master’s use for bondage seems to begin and end at “functional”. A quick wrap here and there to keep me accessible, loop it around a bedpost or a hook and off he goes.

Though, really, I guess that’s the point.

It was pretty though. And I got goosebumps cuz rope is yummy. (Plus I was naked and cold, but it was from the rope!)

So, that’s all I got today. :-)

~cunt

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The Fun They Had

We had the best weekend EVAR.

Well, it was the best in a really long time anyway.

Friday he stuck me under the desk for one of those marathon hours-n-hours long fuck sessions that have me pounding my fist on the floor in frustrated pain while struggling to keep my ass cocked in just the right position while he bangs the ever-loving snailsnot right outta my body. You know the ones.

Fucker.

Sir.

Saturday. Mmm. Saturday.

There is something about having yelping naked women around that almost ensures good times, isn’t there?

We were treated to one of the funnest scenes we have ever watched. Lord knows we appreciate a serious, sensual, edgy scene, too. But laughing so hard that you are crying while someone *else* is being caned is just WAY too much fun.

What a trooper she is.

She was delivering one-liners faster than He could swing the cane. He wadn’t exactly ticking her ass with those canes, either! He was thwapping her! She’d yelp and he’d ask her something, trying (in vain, I might add) to steer it toward serious, and she’d look at him, deadpan straight-face, and blurt out some quip or another.

We were rolling in the peanut gallery, wiping our eyes.

I think the poor Dom gave up trying to get serious right about the time she farted.

lololol

We cracked UP. He backs away from her ass and starts fanning the air and goes, “I don’t know if I wanna be working down there anymore!”

God. It was too fucking funny.

And then! Right when he seemed to be regaining some semblence of “this r serious business” composure, you know – she’s gotten quiet, he’s concentrating on walking her through some pain, we’re all on the edge of our seats, watching the energy flow between these two gorgeous people -

SNAP!

The clothespin that we had holding the curtain shut snapped in half with an usually loud crack, FLEW across the room in pieces… this poor girl on the table getting beat? Who was just starting to slide down, was quietly concentrating and waiting for that next blow? Purt near JUMPED off the table, squeaked, the Dom ducked, I think we were all heading for the floor to assume the bomb-shelter position –

Honest to God. I haven’t had this much fun in ages. What a great night that was.

I got to be Master’s Little Helper while he did some wax play on some other girly-girls, and, I gotta tell ya, hearing the two of them moaning on the floor, watching them wiggle? I about had to go wipe my thighs. I wasn’t even being waxed and I was HOT.

No wonder men are sadists. Srsly, girls whimpering and writhing under your hand? Fuck me. What a turn on.

~fans myself~

Whew.

I’ve seen Master do things to other submissives before, but not like this. He’s done quick things, like “lemme show you this” kind of stuff? This was way better though. Imma be a little brag-ish and say that he is hot when he’s in action.

S’cuse me while I touch myself.

I even had a pussy jolt when I saw him sitting on the couch, cuddling up in some aftercare with another naked chicka. He just oozes power, sitting there in his tight-ass jeans, all dressed and manly-looking with some naked, high-flying girl all wrapped up in a blanket on his lap.

God damn. I’m gonna have to go masturbate pretty soon.

Needless to say, the sexual energy flowing through the house was at an all-time high this weekend.

A couple of months ago I asked if losing the expectation would also mean losing the desire. I am happy to report that it does not.

The desire popped up when it was called on. When he asked for it. Not that pesky me-me-me angst that I carried before. Not that stomping around the house watching the clock tick down the precious time, nothing at all like how it had been in the past when the kids would bless us with a free weekend. I had no expectation. I had no angst. I had nothing but making sure he was happy, content, and his dick was pleased.

And when he picked up the whip or whatever, I was just happy to stand there and take it.

He whalloped on me pretty good, too. I am bruised and welted and scabbed. He told me he was going to “take it slow and easy” since we hadn’t played in awhile and since it was the first time we’d played with this group.

Well. If THAT was “slow and easy”? Count me OUT of the “fast and hard” play, mmkay?

Not that I wasn’t loving it or anything. I was jazzed. He coulda whipped me for the next 3 hours and I’d have still begged for more.

Before the weekend was over I had to:

Wash sperm off the bedroom door (I told him his aim was bad, he told me I made him come so hard he overshot my face. Squee!)

Scrub my own squirted come out of the living room carpet – and I rarely ever squirt! (I guess he was returning that ‘coming too hard’ favor. teehee)

Clean up about a gallon of wax (whoever discovered the iron and paper bag trick is a dadgummed genius!)

Wash blood from my vampire-gloved ass out of my favorite slut blanket.

Good times, man. Good times.

I am a happy camper today. I cleaned out the jumbled mess of a toybox, reorganized everything so it’s all easy to grab. I’m gonna go wash the sheets and clean the house and make dinner and sing along to Michael Jackson. I am in love with my life.

And I’m sore! God I missed being sore. It hurts to sit (I’ll have to ask Master to take pictures of my butt.), it hurts to move my arms, my nipples (jeebus but he was deadly spot-on cracking the whip across my nipples! They’re skinned, blushed a bright pink, and HURT.)

Did I already say good times? I did.

Well. It was. :-)

(we didn’t film any of the play Saturday night. We didn’t even think about it at the time. But Sunday morning, he whipped me again and filmed that one. It’s up at the store.)

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“There is nothing so easy but that it becomes difficult when you do it with reluctance”

I’m a reluctant blogger. No particular reason, nothing profound or important or with hidden meaning. I just don’t wanna.

But I know I’m just about to cross the invisible line between not-in-trouble and in-trouble so being the perfectly behaved (cough) slave that I am, I figure I better babble about something.

This last weekend was the play party. On Saturday we drove down and met Lee Ann and then Carrie and Taylor from A View From the Floor for a few drinks. We have such a great time together (or at least *I* do :D ). It’s just nice to be with people who think nothing weird about how we live. It’s not even that we act any differently around other people, it’s more that I am able to shut up that incessant internal voice that is constantly wondering if other people are viewing us (Him, mostly) in a bad light. Does he appear callous or insensitive or mean or abusive because he’s dominant and bossy? Do I appear weak, stupid, incapable because I’m obedient and submissive? It’s not even that I care what other people think but shutting up those thoughts can be difficult and it’s very noticeable when we’re with people in public and my head is fucking quiet for a change.

Anyway, from the bar we went to the play party and it was every bit as enjoyable as last time. I can’t get over how wonderful I think these people are. Entirely different to any other group we’ve tried to mingle with. Master did the cuttings and if there was a raised brow, I didn’t see it or sense it. The acceptance these people offer is wonderful.

It seemed like there were scenes going on everywhere, good scenes, heavy scenes, erotic scenes… I think they should have a play party every WEEK! I’m greedy that way.

We didn’t do much. Like I said, Master did the cuttings and caned me a little bit, but I think he’s still finding where he’s comfortable in this setting. I’m patient, but only just a bit. Hard to tamp down on those infamous expectations, dontcha know.

The next day before we came home we stopped to meet kitten and her Master for lunch. I think what I like the most about meeting people that I read online is seeing how different they are compared to what I’ve built up in my head. You get that mental image of a person’s personality based on their writings and seeing how right or wrong you were is interesting. In this case, kitten was not only so much more beautiful in real life than she is in her pictures, but her Master was much more personable than I’d picked up from his posts. Seems like the men always come across as super strict and stuffy, and while they ARE strict, they’re also funny, talkative, normal people. Hopefully, we’ll hang out again. The time flew by and we had to leave sooner than we wanted.

So that was our weekend. For Easter we took the kids out to dinner and to the movies (Doomsday. Do. Not. Waste. Your. Money. Stupid stupid movie) and then yesterday I worked all day (after starting my period and with a menstrual-headache. There should be laws against such injustices.) And now today I have to play catch-up with the housework and the laundry. So I’ll leave with the rather anticlimactic picture of my freshly marked tits.

~cunt

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Play Party

We went to a play party last night. It was a big one, a twice annual event where the big furniture is brought out and lots of people come and there are all manners of fetishes and such. It was very cool.

There was a cross, a frame, a bondage chair, spanking benches, and other things dangling from the ceiling. The atmosphere was amazing. You can’t walk into a place like that and NOT want to be naked and splayed across a piece of heavy black furniture, hurting. At least, I couldn’t. ;-)

 We’re going to have to invest in buying Master some leather…lol. Most of the Doms there were leather, head to toe (literally, from boots to hats).

 One man, wearing a white frilly tutu, spiked heels and a corset was simply gorgeous. I’m still in awe at how accepting, how open people are. Who knew this was out there? It’s awesome!

I walked around the entire night with cuffs and collar and a leash. In a bar! We were set up in a large open back room (like where they would have wedding receptions), but the bar part was open to the public still. While it wasn’t crowded at all as the bar is set out in the boonies and seems to cater mostly to alternative lifestyles (it was a gay bar), it was still just really *weird* for me to be sent out there to fetch drinks (soda pop) in fetish gear.

 Though I was far from being the most outlandishly dressed person there! (see: man-in-tutu :D) Men in butt-less chaps and women in skirts that were little more than waistbands, I was actually conservatively dressed in a long, tight black skirt, heeled boots and top. But when it’s new, it feels naked.

 I was naked soon enough anyway. :D

 We watched people play for a long time, just getting  a feel for the place. All the while that I’m getting more and more nervous knowing that I’d soon be naked and on display for the crowd watching, worried about wimping out or embarrassing Master in some way, it didn’t even occur to me (until way later) that Master was dealing with His own stage fright.

It’s just as intimidating for Him to be “performing” in front of a crowd of seasoned players, not knowing what they might be thinking of His technique, or how He relates to me. And also, as He mentioned in my ear at one point before we played, “I think we play heavier than these people” which only adds more worry on top of worry. Who wants to be the couple that the DM has to ask to stop, you know? How mortifying.

It’s not that we were going to have a scene of intensity at all, but the scenes playing around us were quick, light paddlings, Hollywood-type floggings. It all seemed so gentle. Maybe it’s kept light for public consumption? I don’t know. I’m learning as I go.

At any rate, when He did finally put me up on the frame, He certainly didn’t go “light”. I’m not sure the man knows how, to be honest. It wasn’t the most intense, or the most painful scene we’ve ever done, but it wasn’t Hollywood light neither. I was doing my fair share of trying to dance away from the whip.

We were the only ones who had a whip. That was another point of nervousness. Maybe whips are “too much”. I know that the pop of the whip against my skin seemed incredibly loud in the room, my hisses and grunts even louder.

 But we were complimented by the DM, said we’d given a “very enjoyable” scene. I know I sure enjoyed it!

 And a little bit later, Master “gave” me to a woman wanting to have a flogging scene. Stripped naked and tied to the cross, this girl whompalomped my ass.

 Women are meaner than men I think. Master is mean enough, that’s for sure, but women seem to have an extra edge that men don’t. It’s in the way they snatch a handful of hair and yank your head back, the way they giggle at your grunts and moans.. and their fingernails! Holy Ouchie, Batman.

She worked me over pretty good. Had I not had the cross in front of me to lean on I’m pretty sure she’d have knocked me over. I swear every stroke was catching the top chubby roll on my ass too. Jesus that hurt.

It was good though. At the end we both agreed to play again next time we meet up. :-)

These were taken last night when we got home. It’s a shame that cameras aren’t allowed in the play area. This would have made a *great* movie. And, a side effect I’m noticing from having the camera on so very often when we play and then not having at the parties. Without being able to see it on the video afterwards makes it seem less “real” to me. I’m so used to being able to see it when it’s over, seeing another perspective, that not having that leaves it feeling a little like a dream. Weird huh?

The higher marks are from the flogging, there up on the fat hip roll. The lower marks are from Master and the whip. Pretty, no? :D

Then it was over and it was home to bed. It was cold, we were tired and spent, wanting nothing more than to collapse into bed and zonk out. When we climbed into bed Master told me not to bother with the chain, mostly because it was so cold. So I was lying there, half asleep… feeling like I was missing something. Because I was!

I’ve worn it for too long, I guess, that I can’t sleep without it. I sleep with my fist curled around the padlock because the edges of it are scratchy and sharp and I felt incredibly naked without it. But I also knew that a night without it would gift me with better sleep and more comfort. So I was warring with myself over it. Ask for it or don’t ask for it.

In the end I asked if I could have it. The night’s play had left me feeling too vulnerable to deal also with not having the security of the chain around my neck. So I asked in that tiny, little girl voice if I could wear it anyway, and He laughed and patted my head and said of course I could.

I’m such a spoiled whore.

~cunt

ps. We got the pussy pump from Extreme Restraints for the *very* reasonable price of $28.00. Honestly, we should get a discount for the amount of free advertising we do for that place!

 And as for shaving, I shave with bikini zone shaving cream, a good razor, and use Goldbond powder for any irritation. I do get razor burn sometimes but it’s not a huge issue. I’m not woman enough to try waxing. ;-)

pps. More pictures taken today.

Bruises from the misery stick-tit torture of the Wimp post the other day. That movie, btw, is up on the A Master and His cunt site.

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