Should Sex Be This Outrageous?
Should sex be this outrageous in todays adult sites? Outrageous Porn is just that, Outrageous. You will not believe the thing these women are allowing. Plus, the men have some of the hugest cocks ever. On the other hand, there are alot of hot chicks. Adult entertainment has gone outrageous. Go to www.outrageousporn.blogspot.com
Go to www.sexxx300.wordpress.com for past and future post.
i drove out to Anaheim to see Master and L the next weekend after my first flogging experience. He was kind enough to get me and my kids passes to Disneyland, and i was extremely excited for Him to meet my kids. My nerves were all over the place as i pulled into the hotel. i got my key at the front office as He had instructed me to, and drove around the building to the room. i entered the front door and was surprised to see it empty, except for some luggage and baby bottles. i instructed my kids to put their things away and i got them some water. We sat on the couch and tried to find something to watch on TV. It wasn’t long before the door flew open and Master stood there, grinning from ear to ear.
He and L came in and she took the baby in the bedroom to get him ready for bed. He sat down on the coffee table and formally, yet quite adorably, introduced Himself to my children. My kids introduced themselves back, and about that time L came back into the room with their baby. Master then introduced her as His wife, and introduced the baby. My children were very excited, as they usually get when meeting someone new, and they began giggling and playing with Master.
After a while, i put them to bed and joined Master in the living room. i asked where L was and He said that she was laying with the baby. i went in and she groggily greeted me. i gave her a kiss and told her how much i missed her. She stated that she would not be able to play with Master and me this weekend and i expressed my regret over the news. She expressed hers as well, and the baby started to rustle. i gave her a quick kiss and then went and re-joined Master in the living room to avoid waking the baby. He sitting in the recliner on His laptop.
He requested a shoulder rub and i happily obliged. He pointed to the computer and showed me the floggers that He was buying. i literally got tingly at the sight of them, and could not wait for Him to use them on me.
“That’s enough,” He said, gently patting my hand, indicating for me to stop. He then sat the computer down and walked over to the end of the coffee table and pointed to the other end. i hurried over and grabbed the other end and we moved it out of the way. He then began to remove the pillows from the couch and i joined suit. We pulled out the bed from the sofa and i immediately laid on it. He grabbed the computer and joined me. After a few moments, He showed me a poster of Marilyn Monroe online and my eyes widened. It was from her Playboy shoot, and the background was red. i absolutely loved it!
He asked me if i wanted it and i hesitated. i nervously fidgeted and glanced around the room. He again asked me if i wanted it and i buried my face into his arm, looked up at Him and quietly answered, “Yes, Sir.”
He smiled and clicked on “Buy Now.” i was beaming inside, but nervous as hell. i hated asking for things. But i was so completely flattered by His offer, that it made me blush.
He put the computer away and got up and turned out the lights. He came back onto the bed and i snuggled up into the crook of His arm. He asked me why my top was still on. i had it off within seconds, and then curled back up into His arm. He began playing with my tits and gave me the look, that look He gets right before He wants to violate me. His hands made their way down to my waist of my pants and He unbuttoned them, shoving His hand down to play with my pussy. i groaned and squirmed underneath Him.
He whipped His hand out of my pants, used it to turn my head towards His face and kissed me hard. i moaned quietly underneath Him. He then rolled towards me and grabbed my hair and pulled my head back, whispering firmly into my ear that i was so sexy. my entire body melted at the sound of His voice. He then rolled me over onto my stomach and i felt Him get up off the bed. i heard His belt jingle as He unfastened it and i began to mentally prepare for Him. He got undressed and grabbed my ankles and jerked me towards Him. He then grabbed my pants by the ankles and ripped them off of me, fast and hard. my heart was racing so hard i felt light-headed as i felt Him reach up and grab my panties and slide them off.
In what seemed like seconds He was on the bed behind me. He grabbed my hips and jerked them up towards Him. i gripped the bedsheets underneath my face and tried to relax as He spread my ass cheeks with His hands and pressed the tip of His cock into my tight little hole. Pain seared through my ass as He pressed His cock deeper into me. He began to moan, the moan that i had come to know so well and my body was flooded with satisfaction at hearing His pleasure. i shoved my face into the pillow and clenched a big chunk of it in between my teeth, screaming into the soft cotton. He made it all the way into my ass after a few thrusts, and despite the incredible pain, it began to feel really good. i began to moan and let go of the pillow with my teeth and pushed my ass up towards Him a little, silently begging Him for more.
He reached up and grabbed a big chunk of the back of my hair with His fist, jerking my head back as far as it would go. The angle of my neck left me very little air supply, and as i struggled to breathe He pounded deep into my tight little ass over and over until we both came. Once He was done, He fell on the bed next to me as we both caught our breath. Afterwards, we watched a little more TV and then He went off to bed. As i snuggled down into the bed, i excitedly imagined what the next day would be like. It would be our first full day together, Him, L, me, and all of our kids. i couldn’t wait to experience it.
The next morning, everyone woke up and i made breakfast for us all. As we ate out on the patio, we discussed the day’s plans. The hierarchy around the table was interesting. He was on top, and beneath Him was L. They together were above me, and my children were beneath me. i liked the feeling, and wondered how the day would play out with both me and L as mother figures with Him as our lead.
After breakfast, we all headed out to Disneyland for our extended family’s day of fun. It was wonderful! My kids loved Master and L, and they loved them. We all took turns chaperoning the kids, and i wondered why more people didn’t participate in polyamory. It felt so natural and nice, to have Him there as our leader, and L there as a second mother-figure. i daydreamed a lot while we were there about how wonderful it would be to all live together, on the same property and have everyone under the same roof.
That night we came home exhausted and happy. Everyone went to bed and Master stayed up with me, just as the night before, on the sofa bed watching TV. Within a few minutes, He unzipped His shorts and presented His cock to me. i eagerly rolled over onto my hands and knees and began to suck Him hungrily. He held back my hair and watched me with a look that was a mixture of pride, satisfaction and love. He let me continue to suck Him for a few minutes before stopping me. He instructed me to take my pants off and as i did He pulled on a condom. i laid there next to Him, waiting for Him to take me, when He surprised me by motioning for me to mount Him. i was suddenly flooded with nerves as i timidly climbed on top of Him. i was not good at being on top, and He had told me a long time before during one of our chats that i was not allowed to be on top and i was actually very relieved to hear it. Now, as i slid my pussy onto His cock, i worried and stressed over my performance. i did not want to disappoint Him, and for the first time in quite a while, i felt shy with Him. i began to slide up and down, shuffling my feet for the best footing. He was so big that i could not brace myself with my knees as i did with most men, so i flattened my feet on either side of His waist and squatted onto Him, sliding my ass up and down. This position was easy for me, but the problem was that my thighs weren’t strong enough to support me in it for too long. i tried to forget about my worry and concentrate on how good He felt, and just then He grabbed my hips and started slamming my pussy down onto Him, pausing for a split second each time to press His cock into the top of my pussy, sending a pleasurable pain throughout my entire lower body.
With His help slamming me down onto Him, i began to feel myself cum, and i could tell that it was going to be a hard one because of how bad it hurt when it started. It felt much like a cramp, a sharp pain in my pelvis, deep in my pelvis, so deep that i could not exactly pinpoint it. i struggled to withstand the pain as He continued to slam me onto Him, faster and faster. i tried to keep quiet as the pain increased and grew closer to the surface. i finally threw my head back and let go, letting the pain shoot through my entire stomach, legs, ass and finally pussy, which slowly became pleasure as it did. i shook uncontrollably as my entire body was flooded with a kind of numbing tingling. Just then He flipped me over onto my back and began to fuck me with all His might. He reached up and covered my mouth and nose with His hand as He fell on top of me, whispering aggressively into my ear that i wasn’t allowed to breathe until He came. i struggled underneath His grip, but tried hard not to move or squirm so as not to distract Him from His pleasure. my heart rate began to race as my body screamed for oxygen, and just about the time i thought that i might black out i suddenly felt an orgasm start. It came quick and fast, and my eyes rolled back into my head as my pussy throbbed. Just then, He suddenly started to cum, groaning loudly and slowing His thrusts to long, deep strokes. He finally released His hand from my face and i gasped and choked as air flooded my starving lungs.
He rolled off of me and we both caught our breath. I rolled over onto my belly, happy and spent. i expected Him to begin flipping channels, but once again, Master had other plans for me. He rolled over on top of me with his chest pressed into my back, and began moving the hair off of the right side of my neck. Once it was all moved to the side, He grabbed a fistful of it and tugged my head backward. His deep voice flooded my ear, neck, and face, which sent tingles down through my chest, over my nipples, down my stomach, across my pussy and down my legs all the way to my toes. my eyes rolled back into my head as His voice started asking me questions, one by one…
“Do you know how much I love you?”
“Yes Sir,” i whispered loudly, since speaking normally was impossible due to the angle of my neck which cut off the majority of my air supply.
“Do you know how special you are to me?”
“Yes Sir.”
He kissed along my neck, and then along the curve that connects my neck and shoulder. When He got close to the end, near my shoulder, He moved down my back about an inch, finding the large bite that He had left on me the weekend before. He again grabbed that spot in his teeth and clamped down on it. Pain and throbbing immediately shot through my entire shoulder, back, neck and arm. i squirmed underneath Him, panting and squealing in a mixture of pleasure and pain that shot my entire body into a floaty, dreamlike state.
His hand reached down and He slid His fingers in between my wet, throbbing pussy lips as His mouth released my skin.
“Whose pussy is this?”
“Yours,” i whispered.
His grip on my hair tightened and He yanked my head back a little more. i choked and gasped as He asked me again.
“Whose pussy is this?” His tone was firmer.
“Yours,” i sputtered, not quite sure if He was asking me again for effect or if i had answered incorrectly.
He yet again jerked my head back. My air supply was almost completely cut off.
“WHOSE PUSSY IS THIS?” He asked again, this time with an angry and impatient tone in His voice. my mind panicked, searching for the correct answer, wondering what i was saying wrong, knowing that if i did not figure it out quickly i could very well black out from the lack of oxygen. The only thing i could think of that i was leaving out was “Sir.” Desperate for air, i tried my answer again.
“Yours, Sir,” i choked out, barely audible. His grip on my hair softened but did not let go. Relief flooded my lungs and chills ran through my entire body. i stifled my coughs as the air suddenly filled my lungs and the blood pumped hard and fast throughout my body.
He re-adjusted His grip on my hair and bit down on my already marked shoulder once more. i again squirmed and panted, and my eyes again rolled back into my head as i resumed my floating from before.
He held on much longer this time, and the tingling and throbbing increased, as my body was even more alert from the lack of oxygen and hard pumping of my blood. My pussy began to throb and tingle and i began to moan. The movement of my pussy lips on each other from my squirming began to stimulate me even more, and i felt as if i might cum at any moment.
He finally let go of my shoulder and once again jerked my head back, placing His mouth right at my exposed ear.
“Who do you belong to?
“Youuuuu,” i purred.
His grip tightened and He yanked my head back even more. i suddenly remembered the lesson from before as He asked me again.
“Who do you belong to?” His tone was firm. i could tell that He was disappointed.
“You Sir,” i answered quickly, eager to show Him that i remembered how to answer. i was determined not to make the mistake again.
“Good girl,” He said, moving His mouth directly onto my ear as He spoke. His moist lips on my ear combined with His firm voice piercing even deeper into my ear again sent chills all over my body. i was floating even higher now, oblivious to anything and everything except the way He felt on top of me and the sound of His voice inside me.
My eyes rolled back into my head again, but they were closed. i let myself float higher and higher, the effect feeling much like a drug, i was not aware of where i was, nothing else existed other than His touch and voice. He stopped asking me questions, but began making statements, deep into my ear, His lips brushing against my ear with each word.
“You belong to me,” He whispered, taking several long and deep breaths, exhaling into my ear each time, sending me higher and higher.
“You are MINE,” this statement was firmer, with a pronounced emphasis on “mine.” His grip on my hair tightened.
“I want to own you…..FOREVERRRRR.” When He said the word “forever” He pressed his mouth hard onto my ear, holding out the word at the end, letting it fade away. My body melted even deeper, and it was the first time since He last let go of my shoulder that i noticed my body. But i didn’t feel everything, just a sense of relaxation, and as i melted i floated even higher…
“I love you,” He said, and my heart flip-flopped, again for a split second reminding me that i still had a physical body, even though it felt miles beneath me.
“How many times did you cum?” He asked. i searched for a moment, counting and answering, “Twice.”
“Was one without me being inside of you?” He asked.
“No Sir,” i answered, quickly adding, “But almost…”
“That’s what I thought,” He answered, His tone firmer and louder. Suddenly He grabbed the chunk of skin that He had been biting with His fingers, and pinched it as hard as He could. Throbbing shot through my whole body as i cried out in pain. He twisted it and pinched it harder as tears began to stream down my face. i squirmed underneath the pain as the throbbing began to concentrate on my pussy, as each time i squirmed it stimulated me. The throbbing in my pussy got harder and faster, and with the hand that was gripping my hair He yanked my head up to His ear and demanded that i cum for Him.
i cried out from the pain in my head and shoulder and the intense throbbing all over my body, with an emphasis in my pussy. The throbbing began to become more of a thump, and i felt my orgasm begin.
“CUM FOR ME,” He demanded, His tone firm and flat with His mouth pressed hard onto my ear. “CUM FOR ME NOW!” He demanded even harder and louder. The thumping in my pussy increased and I felt it start to cum as i shook and moaned underneath Him, tears streaming down my face. i had no control over my body, over my brain. i was on autopilot, nothing mattered except Master. i came for Him, very hard and fast. It was intense, nothing like i had ever experienced before. As i shook even harder underneath Him, He loosened His grip on my hair but did not let go, and i suddenly realized that i had not been breathing as air suddenly filled my lungs.
He let go of the chunk of skin on my shoulder and waves of pain rippled throughout my shoulder, neck, back and arm. When the ripples met the skin and pressure of His chest on top of them, they sent little sharp shocking sparks throughout the area. It sent me flying, even higher than before, and my body quivered under the intense combination of pleasure and pain. my pussy thumped in long, hard shots, starting off soft and deep, then focusing and centralizing at my clit each time, sending waves of pleasure throughout my entire lower body just in time for another thump to occur. The intensity of the multiple sensations ripping throughout my body caused the tears to flow even more freely from my eyes and down my face.
He did not move or speak. He simply laid there, letting me feel every sensation one by one. After my body began to calm and recover, He rolled over onto His side and swept me up and into the crook of His arm, stroking my hair back from my face.
“Do you have any tears for me?” He asked lovingly. His tone was soft and gentle now.
“Yes, Sir. They are on your arm.”
He pulled my hair back even further from my face and lifted my chin towards Him. i looked up at Him through the tears in my eyes as my chin quivered. i had the urge to sob, although i wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t that i was sad, or hurting. i was simply overcome with emotion and the intensity of what i had just felt. i was still floating, but i was aware of my body now, i could feel every inch of Him against me. my feet against His legs, His hip pressed into my groin, my perky and alert nipples against His chest. i lowered my head and snuggled down into His arm, and the urge to sob immediately subsided. Although the tears felt wonderful- a huge release of emotion and feeling- i was relieved that i did not sob.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you baby,” He whispered. i immediately recognized the words…
“But you’re pretty when you cry.” It was lyrics to one of His favorite songs. i smiled and squeezed my eyelids together and snuggled deeper into Him. He kissed me on the head and then stood up off of the bed.
i started to panic slightly. The sudden absence of His body, His presence, sent me into a sudden spin of feelings. my body felt like it was missing something, a piece of itself.
He was gone, i wasn’t sure where, but i knew that He was not in the room. i rolled over onto my other side and curled up into a little ball. Suddenly He was back, sitting on the edge of the bed next to me. i felt calm again, at peace.
i opened my eyes and looked up at Him. The tears were still spilling out of my eyes, although i wasn’t sure why. i had no desire to stop them.
“Mmmmmmmm….” He moaned underneath His breath. He stroked my hair away from my face and turned my chin further up towards Him.
“Do you know how beautiful you are right now?” He asked me.
i averted my gaze and smiled timidly. i always felt so flattered when He complimented me. i sputtered out something about not feeling very beautiful right now when suddenly He tightened His hand on my chin and gently but firmly moved my head back up towards Him.
“You are beautiful, and you are MINE….forever.”
i softly nodded and He leaned down and kissed my lips. He let go of my chin and i sank down into the pillow, curling up tighter into a ball.
As i closed my heavy eyes, He said, “Goodnight sunshine.”
“Goodnight Sir,” i whispered.
i heard Him leave the room and just then, my descent began. i began to feel heavier, and i felt as if i were sinking. i panicked for a second and wondered if i were dreaming. my eyes flew open and i looked around. i saw a lightswitch, a lamp, a door. i tried to piece it all together. my brain was fuzzy, and i was having a hard time focusing. i blinked a few hard times and looked around the room again. i felt my body tingle all over. The tingling was strong, much like when a limb has fallen asleep. i closed my eyes and let the tingling swell and then cease. Once it had faded to where it was almost gone, i re-opened my eyes. i began to notice more things around the room, a TV, a table, some chairs. i recognized the hotel room. i was in Anaheim. We all were there. L, the baby, the kids. Everyone was there. Master was there too. He was in the next room, laying next to L. i suddenly felt at peace. i was one with my body again. i was safe in bed, with the people that i loved the most surrounding me. And that was all i needed in this world…
xoxoxo
sunshine
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Like so many aspects of self, I find there is a tension within me of what appear to be polar opposites. Much in the way that all human beings have both extrovert and introvert traits, and it would be overly simplistic to call any human being simply an “introvert” or “extrovert” – so too I find in myself a strong desire to control everything and yet to submit to other people’s control too. The awareness of, and search to understand, this tension perhaps truly began when I encountered the Gorean or BDSM culture within Second Life – which both repelled and attracted me.
At first I considered it a weakness of character that would lead someone to allow another person to treat them like a slave. I recognized their right to choose to engage in such behaviour, but found it personally cringe-worthy, especially when the people who practiced it did so in public non-BDSM-specific bars. I saw such public displays of “master” “slave” as rather pathetic cries for attention, why couldn’t they just do it in IM like every other lovey-dovey couple should be doing? I found it equally gag-worthy when any other sets of lovers would engage in the same public in-your-face way of talking – whether heterosexual, furry or homosexual. An extra reason I found such displays distasteful was that I knew of far too many situations where new couples flaunted their love and lust in the face of old lovers, in a way that embarrassed and deeply hurt the old flame. So un-necessary, so cruel.
The more I’ve learnt about BDSM culture, rather than come to see such public displays as more natural and understandable, I have come to the opinion of quite the opposite. In fact, the depth of the master-slave combination is in their dedication to each other and each other’s full knowledge of that – it does not require or even naturally lend to public displays of that intimate relation they share. There are situations where the relationship can and should be openly conveyed because it heightens the experience and fullness of what they share – and sims and bars dedicated to such displays make perfect sense. Having said that of course there aren’t hard and fast rules about how one must behave in sexual relations (besides age and consent of course!) – BDSM or otherwise – but since when has that ever stopped people forming opinions about the best and most consistent way in which to conduct oneself? Indeed, much of the BDSM culture lends itself to rules and “the right way to do things”, so arguably more than other sexual cultures, rules and expectations should apply…
All this thinking lead me one day to let a friend “collar” me just for the hell of it. He was only a friend, there was no sexual aspect involved, just the basics of a master-slave set-up. To see what emotions it brought out in me. Which was when I fully encountered the tension I mentioned at the start of this post: the desire to be in control, and yet to control. The collaring immediately marked out his position to mine – he had the right to tell me what to do, and I had the obligation to obey. For that position to each other to make sense though it quickly became obvious that there had to be boundaries set up – how much could he demand of me and what would happen in the face of disobedience. I loved the certainty and clarity of the situation, there was a simplistic clean beauty to it all. But at the same time I knew I could never meaningfully surrender my free will to him (or anyone) and that every time he asked me to do something I did make my own decision about whether to obey or not, and would not have willingly given that up. In fact I decided it would have felt more natural to be in the one in control of him – allowing me to maintain control and still have the clarity and beauty of our positions in respect to each other. But I also liked being controlled, and round and round the thought-spiral went…
In my continued research in an effort to understand this tension, I have come to realise that it is not so much a polar opposites situation, as a symbiotic relationship between the two parts of myself: In order to give yourself and your moment-by-moment decision-making over to someone else, you must first make the conscious and willing decision to do so. The person may extend the power they have over you to giving others permission to “use” you aswell, but again this is an expression of the trust you put in the original master in the first place. Trusting another person so utterly in this way – in a way that might endanger your physical and certainly your mental health – flows most naturally from deep love and respect. The knowledge that doing so pleases them and that they desire to own you in such a personal and complete sense, is best laid in foundations of love rather than random strangers you happen across one day on a sim. Again, not that there is anything “wrong” per se with the desire to have strangers control you, but it appears to me to lack the depth, the meaning and the intensity of the giving that is founded in love.
I have always felt that utter dedication to another human being, when I love them – that they could ask anything of me, even to do favours for another person I’d never met, and that I would do so because it would please them and make them happy, and in turn strengthen our bond and my own happiness. You could comfortably argue that this sort of dedicated love is at the heart of very strong and long-lasting friendships too. The odd thing perhaps is that this dedication to a lover is at its strongest early on in the relationship – when hormones are blinding you and you would do anything to have them, and alternately strongest for a friendship only once it has existed for a very long time. I’ve always found this dedication to be its most complete and commanding in situations of unrequited love, which can continue for many painful years.
As someone who needs to control and understand as much as I possibly can in my life, I can see how the BDSM lifestyle would naturally appeal to me – but in the slave position. That’s because feeling the endless driving desire to control an out of control world, is exhausting and ultimately futile. To pass that control over to someone else so my brain and body could for just a while stop the pointless task, would grant a huge sense of relief. Which is to say that my exact desire to control is why I should let myself be controlled.
I find these twin desires – to control and to have someone else take control – have intensified since having my son. In the first instance this is because I love him so utterly and completely, I would do anything for him, without limitation – my money, my health, my very life, I would give them up to secure his. I find myself pushing my personal (emotional and physical) resources to their absolute limit, to the point of not being able to move or think (and frankly with my health problems lately, not even been able to breathe), in an effort to give him everything he needs. And he needs a lot because of his autism. It is very common for me to hear people tell me that I shouldn’t let my son control me so much – that it’s not healthy for him or for me. So everyday I try to find the balance between doing everything I can for him, and yet retaining my own identity and existence.
Sometimes it all gets too much and I give in to letting other people care for him for a while – let go of the deep anxiety I feel with giving up that control. And you can see already that the control is going in both directions here: He is controlling my life in almost every conceivable way, but at the same time in letting him do that I am in control too because due to my constant presence around him as I dedicate myself to meeting his every need, I am retaining control over his environment and experiences – anything he does is in my sight and with my approval (in essence). I am an anxious parent, sure, but so would any human being be in my situation, where your child can’t communicate their needs by normal means and when the tiniest change in their environment can set off a violent endless tantrum due to sensory issues.
So to me it’s become clearer that these notions of control, servitude, free will and love, are closely related. There is far more so a naturalness than un-naturalness to them. They aren’t just at the sexual level, they are useful ways to try to understand other types of love too – the relationships we have with family and friends will frequently contain clear elements of control and servitude, and knowing which position you are in in relation to each other helps clarify your obligations and expectations. Yet at the same time the two types of roles – the controlled and the controller – are bound to each other in ways that break down the division – to the point that it is often said that the real person in control, is the slave – for reasons such as the dependency the controller has on them, and the fact that the initial relationship to each other is reliant on the permission of the slave rather than that of the master.
As much as we’ve tried to shun the stepford wives model of living with each other, many couples still make the active choice to live that way – it gives a functional simplicity, it lowers stress, everyone knows where they stand in relation to each other. Similarly in the face of the endless complexities and stress of everyday life – particularly as women try the supermum thing – does it not make sense that there would be an increased interest and participation in a sexual lifestyle that spells out the rules clearly and gives you permission to give up control for a while?
For me, this is still all theory rather than practice. I am a wuss perhaps because I cannot go along with giving myself over so completely to anyone – my fears get in the way. And so you can see that again, it is not the weak who lend themselves to slavehood, but rather people who have a strength that I for one lack. There is an utter freedom in giving up control over yourself, in giving over the decision making. And by giving it to someone you love, it is in turn a beautiful and meaningful thing too.
I’m the product of a world that told me I could do everything and have everything, with slogans from the 80’s of “women can do anything” shoved into my consciousness at every turn. What they forget to mention is that having everything is not possible, and by aiming at the impossible you are always left feeling like you have failed. That you should have, could have, done more, and the only person to blame for the shortfall is yourself. At least when you choose to give up control for a while, even if only in one sector of your life, you’re freed of that burden and get to simply exist. That would be nice, aye.
Not too long ago, I was asked to give a kick-off speech for the Ottawa Dyke March. The theme for Ottawa Pride this summer was “Public Displays of Affection,” so I put together a short speech that addressed the idea of PDAs along with a couple of queer-community beefs I thought might be worth bringing up. The day was chilled and rainy – yes, in mid-August, don’t ask, it’s fucking Canada – and as a result, a small, huddled crowd of brave dykes gathered in rain slickers near the Human Rights Monument in downtown Ottawa. The sound system wasn’t working and the passing traffic was making that awful white noise that happens when speeding car tires meet rainy streets, so I belted out a short version of this little speechy thing – partly to save my voice, and partly because it was clear that the crowd wanted to get moving before they got collective hypothermia. I’m posting a somewhat more complete version of the speech here.
***
I’ve noticed a strange tendency, in the LGBT community, to think in binaries. We come by it honestly, I suppose; North American society as a whole really likes its neatly paired up black and white concepts. Male/female, gay/straight, young/old, good/bad, right/wrong. It makes sense, on some level, in that the existence of any one concept implies its opposite, but what we seem to fail to notice is that an opposite is not the only thing implied by any given idea.
One of the binaries that seems to come up a whole lot among queers is the good gay / bad gay binary. Interestingly, there are two versions of it.
According to some people, the good gays are the ones who exercise their now-legal right to marry, buy a house, maybe have some kids, and fit into mainstream society; and the bad gays are the ones who cross-dress, who wear leather, who have multiple sex partners or fuck people of multiple genders, who do sex work, who have HIV, who gender-transgress, or who fuck in public parks.
According to other people, the bad gays are the ones who’ve sold out and bought into the heteronormative institution that is marriage, and the good gays are the ones who are still radical enough to transgress in any number of ways, such as fucking in public parks.
What I’ve noticed over the past few years, as the reality of legalized same-sex marriage has sunk in here in Canada, is that this equation is not so simple. The good gays and the bad gays are often one and the same.
My favourite example is that of Michael Hendricks. He and his partner, René Leboeuf, fought tooth and nail to force Quebec to legalize same-sex marriage in a protracted, and much-publicized, legal battle. When they finally won, of course, they went and got married. I invited Michael to speak at an event I organized in 2006 about the queer history of Montreal. Now Michael’s a crotchety old man, and he got up on stage and in his typical way said, “Okay, so now that we’ve finally got this stupid marriage thing out of the way, we can focus on the important stuff.” He went on to list what he felt should be four major priorities for queer activists in the coming years: rights for sex workers, rights for HIV-positive people, support for queer youth, and support for trans people. Not too long after that event, I saw him carrying a homemade sign at Pride, pushing for better health care for HIV-positive people suffering from lipodystrophy (the unsightly redistribution of fat on the body, such as in the form of a hump back, a side effect of certain HIV drugs). Not too long after that, I phoned Stella, Montreal’s major organization supporting sex workers, and Michael answered the phone – apparently he was volunteering there. Now this is a man who puts his money where his mouth is.
Michael is not the only person to personify both the “good gay” and the “bad gay.” They’re all over the place. The women who smile from the lesbian mothers’ group poster are the same women who regularly bring a third gal home for a fun Saturday-night romp. The married, home-owning university professor and government employee are the leaders of the local leather group. The Christian lesbian couple is raising a gender-variant child whose sperm donor is lovers with one of the moms. The respectable social worker does professional domination and sex work on the side.
In other words, just because you take advantage of the new rights we queers have won in Canada doesn’t mean you’re a sellout whose primary motivation is to conform at all costs. And, on the flip side, some of the people whose politics or practices are the most radical on the surface in fact hold deeply to some really conservative values or emotional patterns that pop up at the most unexpected times. For example, I can’t tell you how many people I’ve encountered who opt for non-monogamy because they think it’s politically progressive but who are terrified to admit they’d actually function much more happily in the security and comfort of an exclusive relationship. And don’t even get me started on the nationalistic, pro-military and misogynistic flavour of certain elements of the leather community, or the relentless racism, classism and educational elitism of so many so-called radical queer groups.
So if we can’t think in easy binaries, what can we look at instead? In a context where some public displays of affection have now been legalized and others are still most definitely not, what do we do? Do we deny ourselves the enjoyment of our rights? Or do we keep working, in whatever ways we know best, toward more rights and more support and toward creating a culture that makes room for much more? And above all, what does it mean to engage in a public display of affection in a context where there are no easy answers?
It means kissing both, or all three or four, of your partners, without feeling ashamed or scared, whether the government approves or not.
It means hugging and kissing the kids in your life, whether they’re ones you’ve birthed or ones you’ve been so fortunate as to find in your extended queer family – and claiming those relationships as real and valid whether they’re blessed by the government or not.
It means showing your love in the ways that suit you best – whether that looks like a collar and a leash, or a wedding ring, or a phone call once a month, or a nightly cuddle, or a manic make-out session right here on the Human Rights Monument, or nothing at all if that’s what best honours you and your boundaries.
It means doing all these things and more in a visible, public way so that the many people out there who are still thrown out of their homes, robbed of their children, denied employment, beaten in the streets, and tortured and shot have something to look to that gives them hope. And it means not expecting that their public displays of affection will necessarily look anything like yours. Same with the rights they choose to fight for, and the methods they choose for engaging in that fight.
Ultimately, your public display of affection can be a beacon that creates a sense of possibility for a full rainbow of other public displays of affection. But let’s recognize that the crowd standing here today is made up of people with incredible privilege… that we only represent the tiniest slice of queer life in the world… and that there is no one true way to work toward the betterment of our lives. Your public display of affection is a great way to show your pride, but I ask you to let it also be a way of showing your humility.
Now let’s go ahead and march for that!
Being a secretary is more than just answering phones; you’re getting paid to be someone’s bitch. And if Jenna had to fax one more asinine contract, she knew whose ass it was going to get shoved up first.
A secretary and boss relationship is very sadomasochist of its own. Even though the boss is the Dominant one, there is no question on who really rules the roost. The submissive secretary controlled everything and if she was good enough, she also controlled exactly when her boss was able to take a shit. There’s a lot of trust involved but there’s also a lot of discipline. The secretary has to rely on the boss to give her implicit instructions on what was needed. Likewise, the boss should depend on the secretary not to make any crucial mistakes that would cost several dollars and much time to repair. It was a lesson that Jenna knew very early in her job career. Professionalism and discipline were required. But she also knew if she fucked up enough times, the punishment could be sweet.
Jenna didn’t know exactly when the D/s play began; it was a natural occurrence. A raised voice there, a stern look here, a strict warning behind closed doors occasionally. But Max never threatened to fire Jenna; there was no need to. When she messed up, it was once in a blue moon, even though he suspected she was starting to fuck up on purpose because she liked the punishment he dished out.
*Above model is Jessica Drue; photography is by Steveophoto*
Disaster, disaster, diaster, disaster.
I’ve spent the last three weeks having a myriad of online chats and in-person meetings with potential Doms.. I didn’t want to write until I had something interesting to talk about.
I still don’t.
You cannot imagine, first of all, how many unattractive, old, violent men there are out there. My inbox is flooded with people I wouldn’t let touch me with a 65 foot pole. As for the three I mentioned before…
I met with the Preacher. Not totally unattractive, but talked with a lisp and couldn’t make eye contact with me. We spent a good hour talking in circles while he stared at the wall beside me, avoiding my gaze at all costs. Pass.
I almost met with the Professor, but we were both an hour late and, upon my request that we reschedule, he got angry and gave me a guilt trip. Pass.
I met with the Stranger. He was at least twenty pounds heavier than his photo, sweated profusely, and was incredibly obnoxious. Pass, pass, pass.
Why is it so hard to find a cute, smart, funny guy who wants to tie me up and slap me around?
I was still holding onto hope for Jordan to come through, but his message was so short:
“Hope you’re well.
you’re very pretty and I like your voice. Let’s grab a drink. Speak soon,
Jordan”
I messaged him back, asking what he had in mind and when I hadn’t heard from him in a week, I messaged him again:
“Sounds like a great plan. Looking forward to it.”
He waited about a day before getting back to me.
“I moved last week and am still looking for a new place. Sad as it sounds, I’m staying at my parent’s house while they’re out of town. Will probably be moving to my friend’s couch in a few days while I keep looking. I get off work tonight at 11:30 – I know it’s late, but feel like a rendevous?
J”
I waited until the following day and said no, but asked for a raincheck. There’s no way I’m trekking out to a middle of nowhere bar at midnight to meet some strange guy who wants to slap me around–no matter how much I might like it. Here’s hoping he’ll take me up, though, since it’s been another whole week since I’ve heard from him.
Boring. Boring. I’m bored.
There are some books that I can honestly say are good, but I would never want to read again. Beloved Vampire is one of them. If there is one heroine I dislike more than the vapid fashionista in so many chick-lit books, it’s the submissive masochist that has become the all to common centerpiece of many erotic romance navels. The “hero” is one of those vampires who sincerely believes humans are lesser creatures. In fact, the whole vampire culture is built on the absolute superiority of vampires over any human, even one that’s was not a willing ’servant’ and badly abused. Those things alone made me want to get sharpen some stakes. That said, the story that Ms Hill weaves in Beloved Vampire is intricate, nuanced and, unlike most novels with a strong D/s theme, a worthwhile read for those who don’t mind dark, grim paranormal romance. Jane at Dear Author did a review of Beloved Vampire last month. I’ll just hit some high spots that matter to my view of this.
By using the ‘true story’ of Farida, a woman from a tightly knit Muslim tribal society, and Lord Mason, a vampire, supposedly written by Farida herself (though exactly how Farida learned to write is another issue), Jessica Tyson, a modern woman, killed the master vampire that had made her his unwilling servant/slave for years, but his death meant she was now slowly dying herself. Vampire servants cannot last long without their masters. The bond is a physical one, changing human cell structure and making them reliant on their masters for their very lives. At its best, this is a kind of symbiotic relationship that gives a human extended life within the limits of of a BDSM relationship. At its worst, you have monsters like Lord Raithe who relish inflicting every form of degradation he can.
After killing Pord Raithe, Jess just wants is to find the place where Lord Mason laid his beloved Farida’s body to rest in hopes of finding some peace for her own wounded soul. Ms. Hill tells not one, but two loves stories involving Lord Mason. Though I use the word ‘love’ advisedly given the vast cultural/species divide between human and vampire in the context of the story.
My problems here are several. First, Jessica being a ‘natural submissive’ aside, there is no way a woman can survive that much physical and mental abuse and become anything approaching ‘normal’ within such a short time span. That whole key plot element threw what followed into the “I just can’t buy this” territory for me. The second problem is the fundamental unbalance this symbiotic relationship between a master vampire and his/her servants. The imbalance goes well beyond that present in a D/s relationship and is rooted far more firmly in what seems to be ‘racial’ issues. Vampires and humans are never equals in the eyes of other vampires. Humans are little more walking victims. Even those treated well are still under the constant risk of being used in a way they don’t want to be – usually sexually. Unlike the classic D/s relationship, the ability of a vampire to read the minds of servants at will, their superior strength and longevity combined with a culture that treats humans, regardless of their ’status’, creates a divide that makes a true EQUAL symbiotic relationship. They human gives more and gets less – and more importantly – even at the highest levels humans remain lesser beings and are never accorded the same treatment as vampires. There is my real problem. The societal norms for vampires are based on strength and position and are somewhat feudal in nature. They really are soulless and as such, they contribute nothing or real value to themselves or humans on whom they rely and have little in the way of ethics or morality. Lord Mason is very much an anomaly.
Lord Mason has tortured himself for centuries for having failed Farida by not being able to save her from the horrible fate she suffered at the hands of her family and tribe. The fear of failing Jess in the same way keeps him pushing her away while at the same time pulling her into their relationship. Jess has been enthralled by the story of Farida and Lord Mason to the point where he became a hero and touchstone for her fragile sanity during her years of torment with Lord Raithe. The dominant/submissive relation governed by the love of Lord Mason for Farida is the complete opposite of the pain and degradation that Lord Raithe systematically subjected Jess to.
Even with these conflicts, the déjà vu element vis à vis Farida and Jess was a bit much as a plot device for me, but it does work nicely to to show the two opposing outcomes of a D/s relationship. Still, despite the bond between a vampire and his servant, there is never any question of equality. The fact that regardless of what Lord Raithe did to Jess, she deserved to die in the judgment of most vampires just infuriated me. It was by slimmest of margins the most powerful of the vampires sided with Lord Mason and allowed her to live. In short, I found nothing positive or admirable in their society. They are the self adsorbed and self indulgent creatures who care not at all for humans, even servants, or regard each other only as predators. Step away from Lord Mason and they are rather contemptible beings. Regardless of any emotional bond, the lives of servants are at the sufferance of their masters. They offer nothing for all they take from the world of humans, yet they hold themselves as ’superior’. Lord Mason has many admirable characteristics, but as much as Ms Hill makes him a sympathetic, he still flashes the intrinsic sense of vampire superiority.
Jess’s recovery from Lord Raithes treatment with surprisingly minimal treatment and zero psychological counseling, just doesn’t ring true for me. I do realize that victms of prolonged sexual abuse tend to repeat that pattern, so her developing a relationship with a vampire she came to love through Farida’s story isn’t much of a stretch. Like Sweet Seduction by Maya Banks book, Beloved Vampire was not a book I’d keep or reread, but I thought overall, despite my personal issues with the story, it was a much better book. The characters were better defined, the story richer and deeper, and the weaving of Farida’s story into that of Jess and Lord Mason made it just that much better. Did I enjoy it? No, and I make no apology for that. Beloved Vampire just isn’t my kind of book. But neither did I come away loathing the characters as I have with other D/s based stories, which says a great deal about the quality of the story. If you enjoyed Ms Hill’s earlier vampire books, then this one will be a treat.
i showered, i dried my hair and applied waterproof mascara. i had a feeling that we would be having sex soon, and i knew that His goal was to make me cry. We had already discussed it in detail, so i wanted to be fully prepared. Once i was clean and dry i headed upstairs and found Him sitting on the couch. i curled up in a ball facing Him and gave Him a little kiss. i asked Him where L was, and He said that she was swimming. i asked Him when she would be back and He said He wasn’t sure, but probably soon.
A few short minutes later, she walked in. She greeted us with a huge smile and excitedly pointed out that i was naked. As she rounded the corner of the couch, i lifted my arms towards her for a hug. She leaned over and hugged me tight and i grinned from ear to ear. He looked on, pleased, and then said that He was going to go get some lunch. While He was gone, her and I chatted about various things while I watched her wash her hair and apply make-up.
She was friendly and sweet, but she seemed slightly nervous. i secretly wondered if it was Him that had her nervous or if it was me. i knew that she was hurrying to get ready before He got back, and it was actually kind of thrilling for me to imagine her being as nervous with Him as i was. i felt a connection to her, a bond that i couldn’t quite put into words. i had been with couples before, even on a regular basis, but never had i felt this kind of bond, especially with the female. But with this couple i already felt a closeness with them that was unlike anything else i had ever experienced. And sitting there, watching her apply makeup with slightly trembling hands, i felt calm and peaceful and a tremendous affection for her. i was anxious to be with her, but knew that i had to be patient.
As soon as she finished freshening up, she stated that she needed to use the restroom and closed the door and i wandered back into the living room. Just then He returned, holding a bag of food.
About that time she walked out, completely naked except for a lace thong. Her body was curvy and womanly, and she walked with a sway that reminded me of Marilyn Monroe. She carried herself with this wicked mixture of confidence combined with this extremely humble air about her. i suddenly had a slight wave of nervousness come across me, and for a second became very aware of my own body and nakedness. Her curves and body had a completely different type of femininity than mine- natural and beautiful and extremely sensual.
“Should i leave these on or take them off?” she asked Him matter-of-factly, pulling out the waistband of her teeny purple panties.
“You can leave them on for now,” He answered.
He gave her a kiss and we all sat down and proceeded to eat our lunch. When we finished, He asked me to go put on my riding clothes. I was suddenly riddled with anxiety about the ride. He got everything together as i got dressed. I went out into the garage and He put the helmet on me, zipped up the jacket and backed the bike out. i awkwardly climbed onto the back of it and off we went.
my heart was literally pounding so hard i could hear it in my ears as we took off, but as we rode i began to relax a little. The sound of the wind and the smell of the fresh clean air was so refreshing, and before i knew it, i was thoroughly enjoying myself and much less worried about the actual ride.
After about a half hour of riding in spurts due to heavy mountain traffic, he veered off onto a different road which was a lot less congested, and pretty soon He kicked it into high gear and we were going so fast that my helmet felt as if it were going to fly off of my head at any moment. It felt great, i loved the speed, i loved the blood racing through my veins, and i loved pressing my body up against His. There was something very intense about trusting someone with your life like that, putting your entire safety in the hands of someone that you had only technically met a couple of hours ago.
As we whipped through the mountains, i pondered why it was so easy for me to trust someone with my life like that, yet so hard for me to trust someone with my heart. But i trusted Him, not only with my life and body but with a small piece of my heart already, and that was scarier than any speeding motorcycle ride could be.
We rode for what seemed like an eternity. Soon He pulled off of the highway and He turned into the neighborhood where their cabin was. As we pulled in and parked, my heart started racing again. i wondered what was going to happen once He got me inside.
We slid off the bike and He removed my helmet and we went inside. It was such a cute place, cozy and decorated with bears and old skiing gear and random “moutain-esque” knick-knacks. We sat our helmets and jackets on the dining room table and He gave me the tour. Off of the Master bedroom on the 3rd story was a deck. He opened the door and we walked out onto the deck and i took a deep breath. The air was crisp and cool and the temperature was perfect. There were a couple of sailboats floating on the beautiful water. The lake was surrounded by tall, perfectly shaped trees and lots of greenery. It was amazing.
He asked me if i would like to take a walk down to the lake and i nodded and said, “Sure!” He closed the patio door and we went back downstairs and exited the front door. He grabbed my hand, and as we walked toward the lake, we chatted about the weather and how nice it was, especially compared to Vegas. We walked to the edge of the lake, chatting and skipping stones for a while before heading back up to the cabin.
As we went inside, my heart again raced at the thought of being completely alone with Him. We got a glass of water from the kitchen and sat down on the couch and started chatting about the lifestyle and the site and friends. After a few minutes of chatting, He methodically grabbed a small pillow from the couch and laid it on the floor between His feet and patted it, indicating that i was to kneel before Him.
As i knelt before Him, my heat raced so fast that i felt light-headed. He lifted my arms above my head and gently took my shirt off, then my bra, laying them beside Him on the couch. He sighed audibly and ran His hands along my chest, grazing my breasts and then cupping them firmly. The way He looked at me, the way He touched me, it made me feel incredibly special. Like i was a prize, something beautiful and exotic. The way He touched me made me feel like i could conquer the world, like i was a hundred feet tall. i felt alive, full of energy and power and excitement. i could see the pride on His face as He admired me and complimented me. He told me that i was beautiful, and that i had an exquisite pussy. i blushed and softly replied “Thank you” to each compliment He gave. He ran His hands all over my body, then up my back and gently grabbed a fistful of my hair along the nape of my neck and then tightened His grip, causing a slight cry to escape my lips as He tugged my head backward. my knees went weak and my skin felt like it was on fire. It was my favorite move; i have always responded immediately and positively to having the back of my hair pulled.
He pulled my head all the way backward, bending my entire body into an arch with my alert breasts pointing straight to the ceiling. He ran His free hand along my body and kissed my chest. my legs were shaking and struggling to hold my arched body up. i was uncomfortable, but i didn’t dare move or resist the position He had me in, for fear of displeasing Him. He released me and repeated the process a time or two and then let me straighten upright before Him, still kneeling in between His thighs.
He leaned back and slowly unzipped His pants, exposing His hard cock. i immediately leaned over, opening my mouth and eagerly lowering it down onto Him. i moved my wet mouth up and down a few times, running my tongue around His thick, hard cock while my mouth encased it. Every couple of minutes He would lift my head and rub my breasts and ask me questions. i answered with “Ok” once and He grabbed a fistful of my hair and jerked my head backward and said, “You wanna try that answer again?”
my knees went weak and chills ran over my entire body as i loudly whispered, “Yes Sir.”
After a while, He put His cock back into His pants and i pouted a little bit. He stated that He wanted me to go get Him a refill on His water and a tissue. i smiled and said “Ok” as i stood up, but before i even took a step, i corrected myself by saying “Yes Sir.” i laughed as i went into the kitchen to do as He said, and stated that i was learning as i went. It was true, i wanted to be a good girl, to say the right things, do the right things, make Him proud of me, but it was an adjustment to make. i had to get used to the entire scenario and obeying someone. It was all new to me, but it was exciting, and i wanted to be that girl, to be His property, so it was an adjustment that i was willing to make.
i returned with His water and tissue and returned to my position on my knees in front of Him. i watched Him drink His water and we chatted some more. After a few minutes, i asked if i could sit next to Him. my knees were starting to get sore and my legs were tired from the ride and from kneeling. He stated that i needed to ask Him the proper way, which He informed me of. Nodding and smiling, i timidly asked, “Sir, may i sit next to you?” He said yes and patted the couch next to Him. i groaned as i stood and my sore knees straightened. i sat down on the couch next to Him and leaned against Him and we talked some more. He had mentioned me getting a tattoo on myself in His honor, and as we threw around ideas, i suggested that i get “Yes Sir” on my ass. He liked this idea, and i actually liked it as well.
After a while He stated that we should head back, because He wasn’t sure how much longer He could hold out. He cracked a joke about an erection lasting more than 4 hours and we laughed as we stood up to get our riding gear back on.
The ride back was much less stressful for me. He spoke to me more often, pointing out landmarks and such. And as we rode the last stretch to His house, i felt the wind on my face and the vibration of the bike and i could have almost fallen asleep, it was so relaxing. As we pulled into His driveway, i was relieved and disappointed all at the same time. i could tell that she wasn’t home, because her vehicle was missing. This meant that i would have to wait even longer to experience them.
i sat on the couch and my sleepiness hit me pretty hard. As i sank down into the couch to relax, He called her and asked her when she would be back. She must have stated that it would be a while, because He then asked her if she minded if we went ahead and got started. i wasn’t sure how she answered, but suddenly i was extremely nervous and anxious and not sleepy at all. i suddenly wanted to shower, as i had been sweating slightly on both the ride up and the ride back and wanted to be fresh and clean when He touched me. He asked me if i was opposed to being taped and i said no, and then as i stood up i timidly asked if i could shower. He said that i could, and as i made my way downstairs, undressed and showered, my heart raced so fast i felt light-headed again. i wondered what would happen, what He would do to me, how rough He would be with me. i knew from our previous conversations that His plan was to fuck my face until i cried and then cum on my face, then not wipe it off and then fuck my ass until i cried again. i knew from the size of His cock that His entry into my ass would be extremely painful, no matter how gentle He was, even though i did not expect Him to be gentle at all.
i got out of the shower, half expecting Him to be standing there. He wasn’t. i nervously dried my hair a little and then went into the bedroom. i didn’t dare get dressed. The video camera was set up, facing the bed, and some large pieces of bondage were lying on the floor. my heart skipped a beat, as i had no idea what was about to happen. i wasn’t sure what to do, where to wait for Him, and my skin felt like it was going to fly off of my body at any given second. i literally could not remember the last time my body was flooded with so much adrenaline. Standing still was impossible. i walked back into the bathroom to do a once over on myself, and touch up my waterproof makeup. my hands were shaking and my legs were weak. i heard Him coming down the stairs and my heart raced so fast that i had to hold onto the bathroom counter to keep from falling down.
i exited the bathroom and He was at the door to the room. He grabbed me and threw me onto the bed. i lay there, not daring to move, and watched Him as He grabbed one of the pieces of large bondage and proceeded to put it on me.
He was gentle, more gentle than i expected, and attached a large black collar to my already collared neck and then ran an attached large black piece of leather down the front of my chest in between my breasts. He then gently laid my arms inside of the two cuffs along the large black leather strap, pinning them down to my body. He then grabbed the other large black piece, which was a long bar that held two large black cuffs, one on each end. He attached one of the cuffs to my right foot, then the other to my left foot. This forced my legs widely apart, exposing me completely and leaving me unable to move. He then attached the bar to the black strap along my chest, exposing me even more, and restricting my movement even more. my heart rate was slower now, which i found surprising, but positively so, as almost passing out in the bathroom made me wonder if i was going to be able to stay conscious throughout the entire ordeal.
After He attached my legs to the contraption on my chest, He rubbed my pussy and then my ass, stating that my ass was scared. He was right. i was scared, but not as much as i had been throughout the entire day. my fear and anxiety had finally subsided, as all of the buildup had finally come to culmination. This was it, what i had been waiting for, for months now. All the chats, and fantasies and planning were about to become a reality. i felt oddly at peace with the whole thing.
He suddenly grabbed my head and quickly pulled it off of the bed, the same way that He had done previously that morning. i was face up and unable to move as He slid His rock hard cock into my mouth. He was pushing against the back of my throat and telling me to give it to Him, then finally He broke past my mouth and down into my throat. my air supply was completely gone, and i was thrashing against the restraints and tears were flowing freely from my eyes. i struggled against Him, listening to Him moan with each thrust, deep into my throat. He finally took it out and let me breathe, and as i gasped for air the tears flowed even faster from my eyes. Within just a few seconds He repeated the entire process, each time pushing His way past my mouth and into my throat.
It was an incredible sensation. It didn’t hurt, but it was scary and intense. i could not move or resist, but in a way i was glad because i could struggle but without interrupting Him, and i wanted to please Him without making Him fight for it. i liked Him having complete power over me, over when i breathed and how long i breathed and how much i could move. Pretty soon i could tell He was going to cum, and He pulled out and began to cum all over my face, covering every inch of my forehead and cheeks and eyes and chin. No spot was left dry, and the hot tears flowing from my eyes mixed with the hot cum, and my face felt cold and wet and steaming hot all at the same time.
i heard Him walk over and put a condom on and He methodically knelt in front of me on the bed, and within seconds He entered my pussy. He moaned really loudly and i gasped. He was big, and it felt wonderful, but before i even had a chance to enjoy it, He withdrew and entered my ass. He pushed and pushed against the tight little hole and i screamed out over and over in pain. He finally broke through and as His large hard cock slid into my ass, blinding pain shot through my entire body, and for a moment i thought i might pass out. i screamed and cursed and whimpered and cried even more than before. With every thrust i let out a slew of obscenities, and eventually it started to feel good, but my ass was still hurting from His forced entry. The pleasure and pain combination was euphoric, and i was light-headed and focused on the intensity of it all. He started thrusting harder and i felt myself start to climax. i announced that i was going to cum and He was thrusting with all His might, harder and faster and deeper into my ass. my entire body tensed up and my orgasm started in my stomach and shot down to my clit with an overwhelming speed and force. my entire pussy felt like it exploded in one sudden burst, and before i knew it He was moaning, and the thrusting became more spaced out and deeper, and i could tell He was cumming.
He exited my ass, and stood up off the bed and i suddenly was aware of my face, still covered in what was now cold, thick cum and hot salty tears. He unlocked my feet from the bar and removed the bar from the piece on my chest. He then sat down next to me and gazed at me happily. i laughed about my eyes sticking together and He laughed as well, then left the room. i heard the bathroom water running and knew He was wetting a washcloth to wipe me clean. He returned with a hot wet washcloth and sat next to me, gently wiping my face, section by section. The look on His face was gentle, happy and satisfied. It gave me much pleasure to know that i had satisfied Him, and i wanted to wrap my arms around Him, but they were still strapped to my chest.
He left the room for a few minutes, and i was unsure where He went or what He was doing. He returned, and offered me water from a green squirt bottle. Since i could not move my arms, i simply opened my mouth and He squirted some water in it. i swallowed eagerly and He asked me if i wanted more and as i gulped the water, some ran down my face and into my ears. i shook my head a little and we laughed, and then He squirted some on my warm pussy. The cold water shocked me and i writhed around, squealing. He squirted me a couple more times and we playfully laughed. He gave me a little more water to drink and then asked me if i was done. i shook my head yes and He sat the bottle down on the dresser.
He returned and stood above me where i could barely see Him, but i could tell He was stroking himself. i instinctively knew that He was getting himself ready to have sex with me again. i wondered what His plan was, and as He knelt before me again, i eagerly awaited His entry. He pushed His hard cock into my wet pussy and began fucking me with forceful thrusts. i moaned and groaned in pleasure, as did He. i still could not move my arms, but i wrapped my legs loosely around His hips and let them move along with His thrusts. Within a few minutes, we both came, almost simultaneously, and again He immediately stood up off of the bed.
After a few moments He came back into view and smiled as He unhooked my arms from the cuffs. i rubbed my wrists, which i did not even realize were sore from twisting inside of the cuffs. They were red and throbbing. As i rubbed my wrists i glanced over my shoulder at the empty doorway. i was disappointed that she had not been able to join us. He handed me the green water bottle and i drank some more, fumbling with it since my body was still shaky and uncoordinated from all the sex. i sighed, satisfied and happy, and we both laughed. He helped me stand on shaky legs, and we walked out of the room and up the stairs.
xoxoxo
sunshine
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Fantasiene mine rundt deg, min kjære…er i ferd med å utvide seg. I morres, før jeg sto opp, lå jeg og tenkte på hvordan jeg vil ha deg liggende over knærne mine. Med din stolte harde pikk klemt inn mellom mine lår, og baken din sårbar og naken, vendt opp mot solen.
Og hvordan jeg vil stryke deg over rumpa og baksiden av lårene dine. Massere deg langsomt og med litt kraft. Jeg tenkte på at jeg nok blir nødt til å rise deg litt med hånden, for å vise deg at jeg mener alvor. Og for hvert slag, vil pikken din bli presset ned mellom mine sammenklemte lår. Huden på rumpa di vil bli varm og rød. Du vi kjenne skamrødmen i kinnene, ettersom begjæret og nytelsen ved å være i min makt øker.
Du vil med hendene kunne kjenne hvor kåt dette gjør meg, ettersom lårene mine vil bli våtere og våtere på innsiden. Jeg presser langfingeren inn i den trange kåte horerumpa di. Kjenner på deg, om du begynner å slappe av såpass, at du snart kan tas.
Men først må du ned på kne foran meg. Jeg plasserer føttene mine på dine skuldre og spriker med lårene. “Sug fitta mi, din kåte rumpetøs!” “Og slikk meg i rumpa!” Når du har fått jobbe med fitta mi en stund, snur jeg meg rundt på stolen. Jeg står på kne, lent mot stolryggen. Presser rumpa mot ansiktet ditt. “Få kjenne tunga di nå!”
Jeg er så våt at det renner av fitta mi. Du presser et par fingre frekt opp i fitta mi, uten å ha fått lov til det. “Hei!” Men protesten min blir raskt tildekket av en sterk hånd over munnen, samtidig som jeg kjenner kuken din trenge seg nådeløst inn i fitta mi. Makten har nok gått meg til hodet og jeg glemte at det ikke var så lurt å stille seg opp i en sårbar posisjon.
Ikke at jeg klager. Den store knallharde kuken pumper sakte og bestemt inn og ut av fitta mi. Hånden ligger over munn og nese, slik at jeg nesten ikke får puste. Jeg hører at du humrer mot halsen min. “Du trodde du hadde meg, nå…hva?! Vesletøs!” Jeg prøver å riste diplomatisk på hodet, mens jeg mumler ut en halvhjertet protest. “Neida”
Du klemmer bare hardere til rundt munnen min og presser hodet mitt bakover, opp mot brystet ditt. Du kommer så dypt inn i meg at det gjør vondt. Jeg gurglehyler, uten at det hjelper det grann. “Etterpå jeg jeg voldta det trange lille rumpehullet ditt, vesletøs!” Jeg stivner i skrekk. Vet du godt kan mene alvor. Jeg har tross alt gått ganske langt i min dominans over deg. Og vet at straffen for det, kan bli brutal.
Pikken din er stor og tykk. Og jeg har aldri hatt den inn bak. Jeg gruer meg, for jeg vet det vil gjøre svært vondt. Og enda mer, hvis du bestemmer deg for å være hard og brutal når du tar meg for første gang. I min iver etter å dominere deg, har jeg et øyeblikk glemt bort hva slags krefter jeg kjemper mot. Du er havet. Du er stormen. Du er de store bølgene. Og de små dønningene, som kjærtegner stranden, etter at stormen har lagt seg. Du er en naturkraft. Og mitt overmot har som vanlig ført meg oppi fare.
Jeg vet at det ikke nytter å kjempe i mot deg. Jeg lener hodet bakover mot brystkassa di. Lar deg innta meg. Du fyller hele min sjel. Du har nådeløst beseiret min kropp. Og mitt hjerte er allerede på ville veier. Med vissheten om at jeg er fullstendig i din makt kjenner jeg kroppen slippe taket i angsten som har fulgt meg de siste årene.
Tårene triller, mens orgasmen tar tak i meg, og fører meg med bølgene, nærmere og nærmere deg. Inn i orkanen. Jeg er ikke lenger redd. Jeg har intet ønske om å unnslippe. Jeg er omsider hjemme…
I think this man rocks! Not only has he been on both sides of the gender slash, but both sides of D/s and S&M. I ran across this blog she wrote in essence disproving myths about suspending larger folks.
Suspending Larger FolksGoing up on a sling, or in a hammock, is an easy place to start for larger people getting off the ground- lots of pressure distribution! Other options- more wraps of rope, wider ropes, webbing instead of rope, doing more sets of bands around the body, etc.
The fewer wraps/thinner rope/fewer points on the body- more it challenges/hurts.
Also look at the shape of the person. If the larger person is female and had one of those awesome bubble butts, instead of building the hip-harness/swiss seat to have wraps at the waist and upper thighs- distribute the pressure to where the wraps are needed- around the middle of the widest area of the rump. Instead of 2 areas, wrap at 3 areas.
Hanging up a big guy? If he is the big shoulder type, instead of one set of shoulder straps cutting in, distribute the pressure by having 2 or 3 sets of shoulder straps, or even adding a complete web of rope for him to lean into. Instead of just having the chest harness go once under and once over the tits, add more support around the widest part of the upper arms/chest, making sure to secure it so it doesn’t slide up and strangle him.
Is the big guy big around the middle? What about avoiding face-down poses that would distend the midsection, and lay him on his back. Build a web around his lower back, between the hip harness and chest harness, so the weight of his belly has somewhere to rest. Add extra support at the thighs, and voila, rope fuck-sling!
So yes, its totally possible to hang big folks in the air. It’s just not likely to be done comfortably with 4mm rope around the ankles and hauled up. And that is ok.
And really, hammocks are fun. Nylon ones are machine washable too for when the lube gets all over it
I have a Daddy Dom.. He is also my mentor, tutor, Master, provider and when I fail or do not do what is requested of me, then He is my judge, juror and executioner of sorts.
There are still so many people who have misconceptions about the Daddy/babygirl concept of a relationship. I’ve noticed that even within the lifestyle community, many people look down on this aspect because they carry over the misconceptions from the vanilla world. Also, as with all human nature there is a tendency to attack what is not understood and I find that this goes on in any sub-culture social network just as it does with mainstream society.
Let’s start off by taking a look at what a DaddyDom/baby girl relationship is NOT about.
It is not about incest
It is not about degradation
It is not about pedophilia
It is not about total psychological manipulation
It is not about slavery
It is not about sexual Freudian ideals
Now that above is out of the way, I am going to explain what being a in a Daddy/babygirl relationship is all about for me. I understand that everyone’s experience is different and I am not advocating what goes on in my relationship as being a standard in any way. I am just going over what personally works about this aspect of the lifestyle for me and for Daddy. You may agree and you may disagree, both of which you have the right to do. And as consenting adults in a lifestyle relationship what we do with ours is our right as well.
I am an adult woman, who has retained my childlike enthusiasm and excitement over just about everything. I am also naive and gullible when it comes to the outside world. I am one of those people who want to believe the good in every one, which when added to my natural submissive nature puts me at risk with the outside world, social predators and other’s who have a stronger personality and temperament then I do. The bonus that I have going for me is that I am also smart enough to realise these things about myself and understand my own vulnerabilities. Unfortunately, I also have a tendency to be used, lied to and manipulated by predatory personality types; I often do not realise what is going on until events start to happen and I end up in situations that I won’t understand until after they have occurred. In short, I need to be protected and I know that.
Being a submissive, I have a drive to please and to put all other’s before myself. I strive to help people by serving them and fulfilling their needs in emotional, material and physical ways. I have a habit of doing these things to my own detriment. I give all that I can until I am a exhausted on all levels with no ability to stop myself from doing so. I need to be able to fulfill this drive in an environment that is safe, emotionally productive and physically healthy.
Now, I won’t go into the rest of what makes up my personality and how I work internally but suffice it to say that in all regards I need more than the standard aspect of a Dom, I need a DaddyDom and that is what and who my daddy is…Keep in mind though, that I did not realise that is what I needed until our relationship naturally went in that direction.
He is many things for me. He is the love of my life, my Dominant, my Master, the center of my world and he is my Daddy. He has total control of my life and he shapes my world as well as shapes me into a better person using my natural abilities. All my needs are met, expanded and developed by his control and his guidance. Because we do have a stable foundation of love, trust and respect I think that enables me to believe in him, even when I cannot believe in myself. I think an important part of him being my Daddy is that by shaping me as a person he takes great pride and joy in what I can accomplish. He pushes my limits and even though I do get scared, I have complete trust in him that what he does to me and for me is in my best interest and in the best interest of our relationship. I worship him as my provider, protector, lover and revel in all that makes him who he is as a person both in our relationship and in the outside world. I defer to his guidance and his care and as such he has become my Daddy. And as Daddy’s baby girl I am more than a submissive woman, I am the center of his world and his heart.
Daddy’s love and dominance is both controlling and caring. He wants me to succeed because when I do so, then he succeeds as well. As his baby girl I am an extension of who he is, an outward reflection of his dominance and what that power he holds can do.
In a way, our D/s relationship is almost like an alternative version of a “traditional” 1950’s relationship with the added bonus of TPE and BDSM. In the fifties it wasn’t uncommon for the woman to call her husband her Daddy. The Daddy provided for her, cared for her and she was seen as an extension of him. The “little woman” at home was a direct product of what the Daddy, as a man could and should do in the terms of society at the time. Daddy was the problem solver, the fixer, the glue that held the family together against all odds and he was the punisher keeping his family in line and in working order. Daddy’s in society were very common until the sexual revolution. Also, just an interesting thing to note is that men in general were not depicted as bumbling idiots who couldn’t run a home or family until after the sexual revolution took place…just saying..
~Kitten
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