Satisfied

I'm absolutely one hundred percent positive that I have felt this satisfied before, but to be completely frank, i can't remember, exactly, maybe because I'm feeling so damn good right this very moment. ;)

Last night, after writing, I had to take my Owner to work and then begin the torture. I decided to snag Rosie because she is small and would fit in my pajama pocket and could be easily hidden if I was struck by a sudden loss of privacy.

Rosie is a small, fits great in the palm, battery operated vibrator, one of the very few small vibrators that don't suck, but then I have always been a huge fan of Fun Factory products. ;) This particular vibe is great because it doesn't look particularly naughty, has a bunch of fun settings, and has that nice smooth round top so I can just set it in the right spot and leave it.. After all, if I was going to have to masturbate (but not cum) once every thirty minutes for a minute at a time, this seemed the logical choice.

So I did that every thirty minutes for a minute - using my iPod stopwatch app to keep track, and I must say that a minute was too short. It wasn't long enough to get me close enough to be as torturous as I think my Owner had intended. I blamed Rosie's passivity for this and so for the last three or four sessions, I used my fingers instead, trying to focus really hard on trying to get close to cumming.... this was more torturous but the minute was still too short. Maybe two minutes, if I was really focused, or three if I was using Rosie would have been more effective - in the way that my Owner wanted it to be effective, I should say. Though I do give myself major good girl props for trying to torture myself at the level I knew my Owner expected. *pats self on back*

In any case, suffice to say, that after an entire evening of torturing myself, I was REALLY glad to see my Owner when the time came to pick Her up from work. And She seemed to be in a particularly good mood when She got in the car. It was obvious that She was enjoying the hell out of torturing me! Then, I went and admitted that I still had Rosie in my pocket. I'd been in a rush to get out the door to be there on time and didn't want to run back upstairs to hide Rosie away. I don't know why I mentioned it, I guess I thought She'd be amused. I did not expect Her to ask me to pull over, and instruct me to put Rosie back between my legs (thankfully over my clothes), and then had me continue to drive.... to McDonalds.... go through the drive through... order a snack for us to share.... pay... the whole bit.... it was actually pretty difficult. I was so worked up already, and trying to keep a straight face and not let my arousal show on my face as I placed our order... was no small feat.

Thankfully, She allowed me to remove it shortly after leaving McDonalds. ;) But when we got home, I wanted to go straight upstairs (no passing go!) and that, we did.

To my relief, She asked for Ripper and the thigh harness. There's something about that combination that is so incredibly intense. Ripper has so much texture and is the perfect length. Combining the thigh harness which allows my Owner to use more force and pressure and the angle of using Her leg allows Her to get so much deeper made me absolutely crazy!

I was begging before long, it was so intense, and She gave me permission to cum, and then ordered me to cum again and again and again until I didn't think I could again. I grabbed Rosie, wanting so badly to cum clitorally while She was fucking me, but I was having issues... nothing was working the way I wanted... not to mention that I was ridiculously slippery. So after commanding several more internal orgasms from me, my Owner used Her fingers... I was so grateful... and She made me cum so fast and hard... and then She kept going! She has this trick that makes me feel like She has three fingers all on my clit at the same time, stimulating it from different angles... and once She started doing that, with me still overly sensitive from already having had several orgasms, I went crazy... I was almost too sensitive, but She wouldn't let up. She ordered me to cum again and again... and again... i was pleading with Her to stop, that I didn't think i could cum again but every time I was sure my body just could not or would not allow ANOTHER one, She ordered it - and I did it.

I passed out briefly.... but She woke me up.... just long enough to wrap me up, snuggle me close, and hold me until I fell fast asleep.

It's no wonder I woke up in such a fantastic mood!!

Clothed

I am so bloody horny I can barely see straight. Where did that come from?

Oh yeah, it came from last night -- no pun intended.

So I am always frisky but was definitely frisky last night and my Owner was feelin' pretty good, or seemed to be, and so She was putting off all those "i'm gonna have some woman later" sorta signals and so a good portion of my evening was spent in anticipation of some naughty time later that night. We played some video games together and had great conversation and She's all walking around commando, in blue jeans, and a beater, looking all kinds of sexy.... did I mention I have a big thing for hands.... forearms.... biceps.... and shoulders? Arms... really it's arms... top to bottom it's alllll arms. Anyway, there's a look about Her that's so classic when She's wearing that. Not having boxers on underneath Her jeans just makes Her look a little more rustic in a way. Sexy..... knowing that it's only one layer between me and Her. I don't know... it's a thing... and the way She looks walking around in a beater, the way it highlights Her shoulders. Geesh... I just kept looking at Her like a piece of meat all night long. Who knew that it was possible to be this attracted to someone. *happy sigh*

Anyway, bedtime rolls around and I shut off my computer and get ready. We head upstairs together and She announces that She's going to fuck me silly with Goldy, the giant cock. Now, we haven't used Goldy in a while because we're both big fans of Ripper, now... with all its many ridges and bumps. Goldy is smooth... but big.. thick...and heavy and long. Well, I know my eyes got big at that. She teased me a bit more, about that, asking me which cock I wanted. I really don't like having ot pick and admitted as much. I love them both for different reasons and it HAD been a while since I'd felt Goldy but I couldn't really tell which I wanted in that moment... but She decided Goldy, so Goldy it was.

Then She seemed to have some kind of epiphany ... mentioned how it was too bad She hadn't thought to strap up before She got dressed. She watched me carefully for a reaction and I tried to keep my face smooth, not that it worked. No, for me, there is something incredibly hot and incredibly erotic about being absolutely naked, and being fucked by someone who is completely dressed... particularly when "dressed" includes blue jeans. Well, I obviously must have had a visual *perk* on my face because She strapped up and pulled Her jeans back up - and then put on Her leather jacket.

Oh. My. God.

Maybe it's a stereotype, but even if it is - it's one we both enjoy. A hot, sexy butch, my butch, my Daddy, my Owner in blue jeans, a beater, a leather coat, jeans unbuttoned and one of those strong butch hands wrapped around a thick cock..... is there ANYTHING as sexy as that? Well, maybe there is - but not if you're me. ;)

So there She stood, just oozing butch strut, and I couldn't take my eyes off of Her, or off of the cock She was wearing, supported by Her hand wrapped around it. I took it all in, getting weak in the knees, and Her other hand reached out and grabbed my hair, which pretty much finished the job, and my knees buckled, both because they were just DONE and because of the pressure my Owner exerted on the back of my head with that handful of hair....She guided me down, and with a single command, "open", claimed my mouth with that huge cock.

In seconds I was whimpering, clawing at the denim of Her jeans with my hands, and She had me on my back on the bed in short order after that, and before I could think or breathe, She was over me, inside of me, taking me.

Goldy was silky smooth, but so heavy and deep. I luxuriated in it, but I also luxuriated in the feeling of vulnerability. Feeling Her, clothed, layers between us, and feeling (and smelling) Her leather jacket... grabbing it with my hands, clawing at Her... it was incredible. There's something that makes me feel so submissive when I'm in that position, naked while She is fully clothed, but still fucking me. I love grabbing at Her jeans or Her ass as it peeks out, Her jeans getting scooted down lower as She fucks me. It's hot. Really hot.

She fucked me good and well last night and i came so hard. And I swear... it's all I could think about today. Now I'm extra aroused, more so than before, like having a taste of something so sweet, and the way it makes you crave even more.

I admitted this to my Owner this evening, silly me. Now I have to take Her to work for a four hour shift. I've been instructed to play with my clit for one minute, every half-hour, until it is time to pick Her up from work again. If I forget, or miss any, She'll beat me. She knows this means that I am going to be an absolute wreck (already am, but even more so) by the time I pick Her up from work. *tremble*

She hasn't given me these sort of instructions for a while, and I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I am completely affected by it. I feel very owned, and very, very, very much in need of more of Her.....

Take Down

That was fun. I was playing in the dirt with Daddy. Well not exactly playing. LOL We were doing a bit of prep work in the garden. We have two garden areas where we grow veggies and stuff every year and the weather is just starting to improve enough that we need to take advantage of these breaks in the weather to get things ready to go. This year that involves pulling up some of the old stuff and laying the area with plastic to kill all the old weeds and stuff that are lingering there. It turned out that we only had enough plastic to cover one of the two garden areas. It still felt like we accomplished a whole lot. Daddy has said this year I am going out with Her to work with Her (or at least keep Her company) every time She is working in the garden this year when I am home. I like it a whole lot once I'm out there so I think this is a really good thing. I just tend to err on the side of lazy. LOL But I do very much enjoy being out in the fresh air and stuff, so I think it's a good plan.

Our D/s has been in a bit of a lull lately. It's not felt bad, though, if that makes sense. It's been feeling just fine. I think I feel comfortable and confident enough to know, now, that when we experience these natural lulls it is not a reflection on the relationship or the strength of our D/s connection but rather a natural bit of downtime usually caused by circumstances outside of our control. In this case, the primary cause has been some drama and stress with Daddy's workplace, and the tennis elbow (tendonitis) that She has been dealing with.

But, last night, I was craving being "little" again, and I really wanted to end up little in the biggest, baddest, most intense way humanly possible. I just get those cravings now and then, for something hard... harsh... intense. I was also having a lovely date with Daddy, though and was in a fantastic mood - as was She. I got bratty, in the humorous kind of ways, and was teasing Her, playfully challenging Her. On the car ride home, though, She made it clear She had me all figured out. She knew I was goading Her into a take-down. So, She refused to give it to me. I pouted. I pouted a lot. But, then I got over it (so to speak) and settled down. Once I settled down and let go of my expectations (and had parked the car), She took a big handful of my hair, pulling very tightly, and very quickly reminded me of my place.

I had a few moments of kneeling at my Owner's feet before we went on to other activities for an hour or so, though She allowed me to wear my collar on my wrist (a subtle way of wearing it when we have a bit less privacy). Then I got to cut Her hair, quite short, just the way She knows I love it, and we bathed together. I loved having Her in front of me in the bathtub, leaning back, while I washed Her by hand. There is something so completely sensual about bathing together, about washing Her like that. It put me in a soft and submissive place that I loved.

After the bath, we ended up in the bedroom, talking. And then, after moving my collar from my wrist to my neck, She fucked me. But it wasn't just that She fucked me, it was the WAY that She fucked me. She maintained every bit of control over the entire account from beginning to... end. She brought me to the edge of oblivion again, and again, and again - each time driving me farther until I was teetering on the edge, almost about to fall over... not entirely sure. I was begging, pleading to cum but all she said was "breathe"... "just breathe". Sometimes when She said that, She would back off, slow down, give me some room to actually breathe. But at a certain point, she didn't back off. She wouldn't give me permission to cum, but She also wouldn't slow down. Instead, She sped up, challenging my ability to comply, to obey in spite of the overwhelming sensations taking over my entire body. Finally... finally, she gave me permission to let go.... to let it all go... for Her...

And I did.

Zoney, sleepy, drained girl

Both Daddy and I are really drained, today. We're both coming down off the holiday 'highs'. some of those high's are good (excitement! lights! presents! friends! candyyyy!) and some are not so good (bills! family drama! stressy micromanagey little girls (that's me)! obligatory visiting!). But, for the most part it's not so much about what *type* of high energy, it's about the fact that there's just been so darn much energy.

It also doesn't help that it's winter, it's cold, it's dark super early in the day, and is essentially snuggle/hibernate season.

So, today we're both kinda useless. LOL We're playing some video games and just generally hanging out being vegetables. The one nice thing is that we both have periods of feeling like this and they (usually) coincide, so we just relax in our vegetableness and it doesn't create any weirdness between us.

Bad girl blogger

I will be the first to admit that I am a very bad girl when it comes to blogging! I was on a roll of consistency with my 3 Sentences Tumblr posts that Syr assigned me and then I got distracted (I'm a natural-borne scatterbrain) and the consistency fell by the wayside.

Syr's gone very easy on me where this is concerned for multiple reasons, not the least of which is the fact that I get a little bit anxious and angsty and unsettled and just generally 'off' around the holidays which means starting around mid-November all the way until after New Years. Let's just say that the holidays from my childhood involved a great deal of anxiety and stress and shades of that still colour my behaviour around this time of year. I'm blessed to have an Owner who not only recognizes and 'gets' this, but who seems to know exactly what I need during those times. Sometimes, I need to be pushed really hard to be responsible and aware of my behaviour. Sometimes, I need a gentle hand and to be held and allowed to cry and be messed up. Sometimes, I need to be guided gently to think about what's going on around me and sometimes, I just need a 'break' from thinking about it. She seems to always know what is needed and when and I feel very supported, but I also feel badly when I let things like this fall by the wayside because I'm too preoccupied with my own stuff.

So, to catch up. More and more, I find that even in our 'off' times, the D/s remains a consistent undercurrent to all our activities. This has been very apparent as Syr is recovering from a repetitive motion injury which has made things (like sex!) difficult. I am surviving, of course, but a little needier than usual as a result of the, necessary, break from more rigorous activities. I'd be lying if I didn't say that this bit of a necessary dry spell wasn't making me just a wee bit cranky at times, but I would not want Her to hurt Herself just to keep me feeling well tended to... and I'd be a pretty piss-poor wife, let alone slave, if I couldn't be understanding and do my best to care for her and reassure her that all is well - and well... it is! She is healing, slowly, and I do not feel we have suffered any loss of intimacy. Syr and I have that intimacy thing down pat! We talk and touch and snuggle and kiss and stuff all the time.... which makes the rest easy. She's certainly enjoyed a bit of the torture factor though. lol.

But, that brings me to the super exciting and awesome Christmas gift, She got me. Christmas Eve as we were getting ready for bed, She had me kneel and put my sleeping collar on - like usual. She asked me who owned me, and I replied that She did.... and then She had me close my eyes. When She had me open them again, She was holding a present for me!! I opened it up, pretty nervous, and found a catalog to our favourite (adult) toy store! But inside, was a gift certificate. OoOooOOoooo I get to pick out a new cock! WOO!

And then there was.... ANOTHER present... this one was softer. I opened it up and it was a brand new THIGH HARNESS. *fans self* Omg, the hotness. I LOVE LOVE LOVE the idea of a thigh harness. There's something really hot about it, to me. Syr one night made a makeshift thigh harness by being creative with Her existing harness and we had a lot of fun with it. This was a super thoughtful gift because She'd remembered how badly I wanted one for Her to use even though I'd forgotten. :-) The only downside was that we discovered that it didn't accomodate Goldy the giant supercock She usually uses on me. It did accommodate a smaller cock we already own. The fun will be picking out a new cock that will work in either harness/for either purpose and be super fun.

I can't wait to go shopping!

Long time, no post!

It's been ages since my last post. Okay, I suppose a couple of weeks isn't ages, but it sure feels like it. Things with my Owner are very good, but there have been some difficult days in the last couple of weeks. This time of year tends to mess with my head a lot, thanks to lots of family 'baggage' from my childhood (yay! /sarcasm). Anyway, apparently at this time of year, like clockwork, I start picking silly fights with Syr, which is really counterproductive and just generally sucky for both of us.

Syr is, understandably, low on patience for this behaviour and I end up feeling really guilty when I subconsciously seek my emotional release in this manner. Thankfully, we had one bad day, one semi-bad day, and one mildly annoying day and that seems to have ended this year's streak. Two big things I'm working on are first, listening really really carefully (not just 'hearing' but really listening), and stopping when told to as Syr only tells me to stop or calls a halt to a conversation when it's in an unhealthy place. She never ever silences me or my opinions unless there is something dysfunctional going on - and I can always see that *after the fact* so I'm working on trusting more in the moment so I can remember that when I'm in full-on rant mode (or whatever the case may be).

So far, it seems to be working and even though I've had some fairly intense emotional days, they haven't resulted in picking any fights (at least not successfully) and so peace is maintained and we are both happier and healthier. Today is a rough day thanks to triggers but none of that is bleeding out in unhealthy or snarky behaviour - so I'm proud of that.

Sometimes it's the little successes that make the biggest difference.

Getaway

Syr and I had a getaway last weekend. It was just Her and I at a hotel room for an entire weekend. We both had the Friday, Saturday, and Sunday off so it was some really nice connecting time.

Our weekend began when She took me to the local aquarium. We hadn't been in a while and I had a coupon. We had a great time, though we got there just a little over an hour before it closed. We got to see the giant octopus who was, for a change, not hiding and actually swimming around a bit - which I thought was supercool. We checked out our favourites, but then as the aquarium was announcing the closing, we went to check out the Belugas. No one else was around, and the one beluga, still a baby, was PLAYING with a nearby bird. It was the coolest thing. The bird was hopping along the walk at the edge of the pool in the trainer area and the beluga would roll onto her side and wave at the bird... then the bird would hop along to a new spot and the beluga would follow it. It was incredible! You just don't get to see that sort of stuff when there are crowds of people and trainer-led shows.  We also happened by the sea otter area and got to see the otters munching on whole crabs. Usually they eat tidy little fish during the shows but they each just had a big ol' crab on their bellies and were munching away.  It's interesting the type of things you can see when the tourist crowd dies down a bit.

After the aquarium, we headed to the hotel and got checked in.  We got food not long after that and did some playing in the hotel casino. When we got back to the room, I remember casually taking off my clothes and kneeling next to my Owner. She asked me what I wanted, wanting me to say it, and I asked to wear Her collar, the fancier one that I only wear on occasion as it's rather bulky. She obliged and clipped the leash to it as well.  This was how the weekend began and from then on, anytime we went back to our room to stay for a while, I would take off all my clothes except my panties and kneel while Syr put on my collar and leash. She'd keep hold of the leash handle unless She was sending me to go get something or to the bathroom, in which case the leash handle wold be looped over my wrist.

We had... some outstanding.... sex... of course.  Syr had been teasing me for a week prior - lots of torture and torment and no permission granted to orgasm.

But also...I asked for (and got) a good girl spanking. One nice thing about a hotel stay is that an over-the-lap good old fashioned spanking is actually pretty noisy and we don't have enough privacy at home to indulge in that particular treat very often, so it is what I most crave when we do have the opportunity for more privacy. Thankfully, I'd been a good girl and so Syr didn't mind giving me what I'd craved.

We didn't have super heavy scenes... but what we did have was some amazing reconnecting time. What felt the best, quite honestly, was that simple ritual of removing most of my clothes, and kneeling for Her collar, and snuggling in bed with Her, while topless... feeling skin on skin... talking.... the simple reality of being Hers.

It turned out to be a weekend with more talking than sex, more gentle touches than rough ones - but it was exactly what we needed and wanted.

What I treasured most about that weekend was the simple, natural elegance of our dynamic. We didn't have to talk about what we were going to do, plan it, or decide the protocols - they just happened. And so, we've taken some of that away with us.

Once the weekend was over and we were settled in back at home, I just automatically began continuing the same ritual.  Now, when we go to our bedroom at night to prepare for sleep, I remove all my clothing except my panties (unless it's cold or I'm fatigued/shivery and ask permission to wear more), and I kneel quietly and wait for my Owner to snap my sleeping collar around my neck. I ask for permission to climb into bed and wait for it to be granted before I move.  Once in bed, my Owner attaches the cuff around my ankle that is chained to the bed.

I really get so much out of little rituals like this. And so our getaway provided a longer term little gift to us as well - one that we are both enjoying very much.

Hee hee

I stole Daddy's cereal.

Hee hee.

Daddy made Herself a snack.... granola with peaches and a little bit of half and half... and it was yummy so i begged for a bite. Then She gave me some... then She let me hold the bowl... then I sorta stole the whole shebang..

In my defense... once She saw me enjoying it, Daddy said I could eat as much of it as i wanted before giving Her bowl back.

She just laughed at me when i gave it back empty.

I was hungry!

Service

The other day, my Owner advised me I would be giving Her a foot rub. It wasn't anything particularly out of the ordinary. Rather, it was a fairly mundane request. Syr is on Her feet a lot for Her work and has recently discovered (after years of not being fond of having Her feet touched) that She quite enjoys a gentle foot rub.

Syr was relaxing on the bed, reading a book, and I knelt on the bed and asked if She would put on my sleeping collar before I began. She agreed and snapped it around my neck before relaxing back with Her book.

A strange thing happened when I began working on Her feet. It was quiet in the bedroom, and Syr was quiet, too - as She read. I felt like I was part of the room... a possession, treasured - but owned. I just melted into it, surrendering, and it was so meditative - so soft.

I wasn't anxious and waiting to be acknowledged or spoken to. There was this quiet acceptance on both Syr and my parts. This was just a part of the day, and that was what made it hot and powerful... in all its subtlety. Every once in a while, my Owner would glance over the top of Her book and grin at me in this very cocky way that would give me tingles.

And I realized, in that moment, that this was service, in the truest sense of the word.

Stand Up. Sit Down. Stand Up.

The other day, Syr decided in the midst of a conversation where I was being a bit sassy, that I needed a bit of an attitude adjustment. I can't remember what the conversation was about, but I remember that Syr shot me a look and then told me to stand up.

I looked at Her a moment, confused, and She repeated Herself: "Stand up."

So, I stood up but She didn't say anything more about it before going back to the conversation. I was being a bit oblivious but a few moments later, She said: "Sit down."

I sat down and the conversation continued but then, again, still somewhat oblivious to what was prompting that silliness, She had me suddenly stand up again. I was starting to clue in that something about my tone or the way I was expressing myself wasn't entirely appropriate and that the stand up/sit down exercise was intended to make me aware of it.

After a couple more stand up and sit downs, my whole demeanor changed and I felt very little, very vulnerable, and very corrected. We didn't discuss it or analyze it afterward. But it was a simple and direct reminder that She is in charge - and that I will obey Her.

A couple of days later, She did this again. In a way it makes me feel almost a little silly, but part of the way it makes me feel reminded and corrected IS feeling a little silly. It's kind of like the way in movies or books a teacher might haul a kid up to the front of the class when they've misbehaved. I felt attention drawn to me, even if we're alone. I feel exposed.

But part of the effectiveness, I feel, was in the way She simply injected it into the conversation, into the day, without pausing to make it all about that. Instead, it was merely background... inconsequential... not giving me "attention" per se, but instead exercising Her authority simply and because She can.

Effective.

Whimper

My Owner is torturing me.

*pout*

Last night, She decided it would be fitting (no pun intended) to send me to bed, filled, without permission to have an orgasm.

She decided this after basically asking me pointed questions, and demanding my honesty, about what I thought about the idea. Now, in my own defense, I'd like to point out that I knew it would be torturous, but I couldn't help admitting (because it was/is true!) that it also sounded hot. It also sounded like something that would put me in my place - asserting Her ownership in such obvious ways always does.

I'm not sure if that wasn't the most evil part! Because, while my Owner could have done this to me without my consent - making me first admit that some part of me wanted it only adds to my torture. Because now I can tell myself that I asked for this! What a mindfuck that is...

So, yes, last night Syr sent me to bed with a cock, and not a terribly tiny one either, seated deep inside me. Panties and jammy pants put on over top to help hold it in. And after nudging it with Her knee a few times... and Her hand.... until I was wanting and aching with the need to just be fucked with it... to cum.... THEN She tells me to relax and breathe and go to sleep.

But, She never said She couldn't cum....

So laying next to me, Her fingers started moving on Her own body... and I was so worked up that I just wanted, no... needed... to serve Her in this way. So, I replaced Her hand with mine (with Her consent of course) and bringing Her to orgasm only made me feel all the more owned, all the more sure of my place as Her slave. She shuddered with release while I trembled with need - and then we both went to sleep.

This morning, I woke up aching like crazy. When She removed the cock without using it on me, I cried with need. It was challenging. I've spent the day hyperaware of the burning desire between my legs and yet it's also made me feel very, very little and very owned.... very much not in control and very contained.

Just now, Syr mentioned what She might put inside me for sleeping tonight. I'm all nervous about the thought. Admittedly, I assumed She had intended to make me cum tonight, but now I'm not so sure. She says She hasn't decided yet.

I'm trying to be patient. If I beg now, the answer will surely be no.

Patience..... not my strong suit.

Learning to give up control

First off, I've really been getting a LOT out of the 3 sentences task that Syr has me doing. I'm finding that it's serving as a really good record of my state of mind from a submissive and/or little girl space for the day and it's really useful. It gives Syr a glimpse into where my head is at and keeps me feeling connected and self-aware, as writing always does.

One thing that's been coming up a lot for me lately is a new kind of self-awareness. I'm starting to learn to take more and more responsibility for my headspace, for how I'm feeling and how that feeling may or may not impact my behaviour and the people around me, most particularly my Owner.

I've had some pretty intense lessons around all of this the last few days. Last week, I really messed up and let my bad day bleed into my tone and treatment of my Owner and picked a stupid fight with Her. She got angry with me and then I got panicked and didn't handle it well at all. One thing I had to do was give Her some space - something I struggle with... and I did it, but it was really hard!

I managed, though, to learn a few things about how I react when I'm freaked out about having made Her angry. I learned that my mind will grasp at desperate measures to turn the situation around and make it so that it's all about me. I learned, by thinking it through, that I didn't want to respond this way - that if I've behaved badly I want to keep the focus on the person I've hurt by my behaviour (my Owner) and not try to make it all about how terrible I feel and how I need Her reassurance that everything is okay. It's tough work, but I am working to break decades of really bad, unhealthy patterns and this is a part of that process for me. So, there were some valuable lessons learned and some good epiphanies had as a result of the stupid argument - so that's been a positive takeaway.

Yesterday and today both presented opportunities to take responsibility for my mood. At different times both yesterday and today I was being a little moody and touchy - intense as my Owner likes to call it. I was able to recognize it, admit it, and because I was consciously aware of it - NOT let it turn into something. Instead, by admitting it and being aware of it, I was able to relax and the feeling went away - I was able to enjoy the rest of my day. Previously, if I was having an intense sort of day, emotionally, I would almost always pick a fight (not intentionally, of course, more of a subconscious pattern). But I didn't do that, so those were big successes.

Then, today, there was another moment where I was presented an opportunity to learn something. Syr called me on a, relatively minor, bit of defiance. But I was feeling defensive over it and caught myself falling into that habit of trying to make it all about how bad I felt about the behaviour which then created a whole different layer of stress. I had to listen to my Syr and drop the subject because it was about to turn into another little fight, and I did. Then I realized what I'd been doing and realized I should admit my new epiphany to my Owner. In doing so, I realized how scary all of this is. Admitting that I have realized I was doing something manipulative or unhealthy is a very vulnerable thing and really makes me feel like I am giving up even more control - which of course I am and which, of course, our whole relationship is about. But it's just that it keeps getting deeper.

I love that it's getting deeper, but it hit me somewhat hard today just how scary that is sometimes. I am so vulnerable with Her, so raw, so open and there is no side of me that I can keep hidden. Nothing is left in shadow - everything is brought into the light and some days I feel very exposed.

There is good and bad in this feeling. Bad is the fear and the nervousness that being so exposed creates - but good is the knowledge that I am safe, loved, and treasured, and being so vulnerable allows me to surrender even deeper to Her, and that feels amazing.

Spanked with a... hammer?

I have been terribly negligent in my blogging lately, a fact which I have not failed to notice and neither has my Syr.

She's given me a new task - to ensure I email myself (or jot down) a subject to write about each day by way of helping me remember to blog, so today was the first day I did that. It doesn't mean I'll always journal in this blog, but it will help me to remember to journal somewhere daily which is Syr's expectation.

Also in the same vein is a second new task. No matter what else, I must blog three sentences a day. This seemed perfect for my Tumblr blog so I posted the first one there, today. It's in the sidebar, here, on my blog page or at http://herlittlegirl.tumblr.com/

Anyway, on to today's topic... Syr's hammer.

Yesterday, we were standing in the kitchen and Syr was doing some baking (peanut butter cookies - yum!). To amuse Herself, She was whacking me with a variety of kitchen utensils in a relatively playful manner - though She did get me one seriously stinging slap with a wooden spoon.

I think I probably play-pouted about all this smacking, and Syr's response was to gloat that She could probably smack me with ANYTHING and get me to like it. Joking, She added, "I could even get you with My hammer and You'd like it!"

I rolled my eyes, hands on my hips and said something like.... "A hammer? Yeah right!" because this was banter after all. But Syr's eyes glinted and pointed a finger, directing me to brace my hands on the counter. I hesitated and laughed and then I saw Her actually pick up the hammer.

But She snapped Her finger more meaningful as She pointed me back to the counter and came at me with.... Her hammer! She hit my bottom carefully with it, in the fleshy parts, but not overly gently. I was surprised at how quickly I dropped! Not only was there the psychological thrill that my Owner was hitting me with a HAMMER (come on, that's hot, right?) but I was liking the way it felt.

Recently I discovered that I LOVE having my bottom punched, and hard. It is a delicious and deep thud. The light taps with the heavy hammer felt like a very mild form of the same sensation.

She only did it for a few minutes. But it made an impression on us both. There was something silly and hot and erotic and delicious about the entire encounter. And that was BEFORE we ate the cookies.

Daddy's Tools

These are a few of Daddy's tools.

More specifically, these are reserved primarily for punishment.

There is the duct-tape handled implement made out of the coat hanger which I not so lovingly call "the ouchie thing", the giant flat wooden spoon/paddle, and the almost pretty-looking but ridiculously evil "red thing" which was manufactured to be a rug-beater. It is, now, a little-girl-beater.

I've written a lot about discipline and punishment lately, but the reality is that these are a big part of my own growth in my D/s journey lately. Daddy's ability and willingness to punish me have deepened my connection and submission to Her and have also allowed me to feel even more safe and cared for and contained.

Recently, She had me bent over Her knee and, while spanking me, asked me questions about my state of mind. Answers like "I don't know" or "maybe" or "I'm not sure" got me more and harder slaps with the back of the scrub brush she was paddling me with, so I was not able to answer without dropping any hesitation or beating around the bush. She asked me if I thought She had been too soft lately, too lenient, and I admitted, yes, after a series of hard smacks. She asked if I needed Her to be harsher with me, and again I admitted yes.

I notice that when She gets too 'easy' on me, it is harder for me to find that foundation, that ground that I stand on, that everything else blossoms from. It's up to me to continue to press myself to trust and surrender and let go and move forward. I just truly appreciate the way that my Daddy can empower me by being willing to deliver those corrections when they are needed.

Thank You Daddy, for correcting me.

Quickie?

I looked at Daddy, my lower lip sticking out just a little. Having just finished a Disoronno and Coke and feeling the warm, sensual neediness that always seems to follow a cocktail, my desires were unmasked on my face.

She knew what I wanted and She smiled at me, Her tone patronizing, "You know, if I give You what You need I'm just going to throw you on the bed and fuck you."

I couldn't tell if She was just warning me that She wasn't up to a lot of foreplay or if She was trying to turn me on, but my face must have given something away about my reaction to Her words because She continued...

"You know, use you up and toss you when I'm through with you..."

I could feel my insides churning, my clit involuntarily jumping with excitement at the idea of being used in this way.

"What do you need, little girl?" She asked, a coy and cocky smile playing on Her lips.

Without hesitation, I replied, "Your cock!", my voice almost a whimper.

She laughed. "Upstairs, little girl." and I jumped to scramble upstairs and begin my getting ready for bed rituals and smiled when I head the sound of Her footfalls on the stairs heading up behind me.

Teeth and hair brushed and washed up, I headed into the bedroom to find candles lit and a twinkle in Daddy's eye. She pulled my tank top up and over my head and then pulled my shorts and panties down, tossing them to the side and bent me over the bed until my forehead touched the mattress, my ass arched up and back, against Her thighs. I wiggled my bottom playfully.

"You thought I was joking, didn't you, little girl?" She asked, Her tone dangerous.

"Welllll... not exactly..." I hedged.

I stood up, fingers playing lightly along Her skin, seductively, but She shoved me back down causing me to land back on the bed on my bottom with a flop.

"You better get ready." She warned and reached under the bed and retrieved Her cock. I watched, fascinated as always, as She strapped it on and reached out to attempt to be seductive again, testing the waters, was She really going to just unceremoniously fuck me without preface?

Seconds later, She had lubed up Her cock, shoved me back on the bed, climbed between my spread legs and was aiming Her cock right against me and I knew, then, that one thrust later and She would seat herself all the way inside me - and indeed, without preface.

When I know Daddy is going to use me in this way, there is always a moment's fear. Will my body be ready enough to respond without too much pain? Will I be able to take Her huge cock in that one initial thrust? But something about the way that my body responds to Her and to this type of treatment almost always guarantees that I am, at least a little bit, ready for Her.

In a flash, She was inside me - this first thrust made it clear that things weren't as wet and slippery as they usually are and the dragging sensation only added to how taken and claimed I felt in that moment. And as my Owner's words began tumbling over me, Her mouth and voice grating at my ear, I knew that this was exactly what I needed.

She started off hard, fucking me, tearing the air out of my lungs with each thrust and I was instantly lost to Her. I needed to come so badly. I needed to feel lost and taken and owned and used all right in that moment. Over and over I was overwhelmed but Daddy was not about to let me come that easily. I begged, and She waited, but did not stop or slow.

She picked up the pace, in fact. She loves holding me at that edge when I am not allowed to come and have to focus to hold it at bay because it drives the intensity up exponentially. She likes to get me to the point where I am overtaken by desperation and can let it all go. And that is exactly what She was demanding that I be ready to do before She let me come.

It was hot and we were both sweating, already. Something about that added to the intensity as our bodies slid against each other so easily, the sweat lubricating all our skin so that it was slippery and sensual and raw and animalistic.

"You have to let it go, let it all go." She ordered, letting me know that until She could see that I was ready to do just that - to scream and cry and convulse beneath Her - She would not let me come.

She didn't hold back. She drove into me with near-painful speed and force. She grabbed my hair, pulling it back until my chin pointed behind me.

At one point, She shoved one finger into my mouth... or was it Her thumb? I don't remember, exactly - but I do remember that this seemed to do something fantastic to me. Something about the invasiveness of Her finger in my mouth makes me feel really taken and claimed and powerless. I almost craved more fingers, pressing into my mouth, stretching it open for Her. There was something that really triggered for me and my body went wild.

Not long after that, She covered my mouth and then my nose and fucked me harder until I was clawing at Her back for release - for breath and even more importantly at that moment - for the release of orgasm.

Only after long minutes of begging, of chanting "pleasepleasepleaseplease" over and over again like a mantra... only after She made me tell Her I was Her slave and Her whore and Her property - forever... only after She yanked a promise out of me to let it ALL go... did She finally grant me permission to come.

And I exploded. She fucked me while I came, and cried, and whimpered and clutched and clawed at Her. She demanded that I come again for Her, my Owner. She demanded I come for Her, my Daddy. She demanded I come for Her, my Wife and Love. She demanded I give Her everything I had in me at that moment. And, without hesitation, I surrendered my everything to Her.

We fell into a heap and I, unable to move, moved as close to Her as was physically possible, stroking Her skin lightly while Her fingers moved to draw out Her own much needed orgasm. She hadn't found precisely that perfect angle to come inside me, this time, but Her need was great and I moaned and twitched with aftershocks as I watched Her face and felt the pulsing of Her muscles as She tensed and then exploded with release - demanding I come with Her - an easy feat.

She rolled over, teasing me for my squirming, and moved Her fingers to my clit, still jumping and tense. She'd pulled orgasm after orgasm out of me from the inside while She fucked me, but my clit was aching as well and now She was offering, and then demanding that release as well as Her fingers moved in all of the exact right ways over my body. I was begging in seconds and happily obeyed Her when She demanded I come, many more times... more than I can count.

She'd been rough, and harsh, and intense. She was done with me now and got up, and, after washing us up, tossed me a pair of Her boxers, my favourite, for me to shimmy into - with Her help.

I snuggled up tight against Her, my body still vibrating, feather-light after such an exhaustive release, and drifted off to sleep not long after.

Yes, this was exactly what I had needed.

Of course it was.

Daddy knows best.

Tumblr

I decided to give Tumblr a try for quickie thoughts, pictures, quotes, links, etc. I've created a gadget which you can see on the right side of this blog if you want to view my posts from right here on my blog!

My Tumblr page is herlittlegirl.tumblr.com

Defiance

Life has been crazy lately. There have been numerous challenges in my Owner's and my world that had to do with things (and people) outside of our control. With all the outside stressors, the mood just hasn't been right for writing, though I do know that Syr fully intends to finish the story - I'm not always the most patient girl and that fantasy is hot so it's occupying a great deal of my mental attention.

I find that, true to form, with all the outside stress, I am in the mood for a fight. Not the literal kind of fight, but the BDSM kind of fight. I want to kick and scream and struggle and be taken down, hard. It may not be as physical of a fight as it sounds but there is that urge to just resist... to NOT surrender.. to be taken and not to let go until I am forced to let go, until I have no other choice. There is great release in these sort of exchanges. Syr has picked up on my mood and we've had a couple of playful exchanges where there was some struggle.

The other night, in just that mood, Syr quickly commanded my attention and ultimately my compliance by pressing two fingers inside my mouth in such a way that I could not squirm away from them. There was something invasive and hot and scary about this because, again, there was a loss of control. I fought, and I lost, though it was not overly physically taxing.

I think it's cyclical, this need to struggle, and to know that such struggles are ultimately futile by the way my Owner responds. It's one of those things that I used to do subconsciously, and unintentionally manipulative with previous relationships. Now, I am aware of it and try to make the mood known, to let my Owner know I'm in a defiant head-space, seeking a take-down... a release.

It doesn't mean that just because this is what I am aching for that it's what I'm going to get, but I often find that communicating it and being aware of it is what makes it a healthy expression and not a manipulative one. Defiant 'mood' or not, I am still going to take what I am given and if Syr is not in the mood to play that way, we play Her way. I just like to be aware when I'm in that head-space. It *can* and sometimes does bleed into otherwise mundane interactions and I can occasionally find myself snippier or short-tempered as a result of the energy I'm trying to calm on my own. This is where it can present a problem, but I think I've done a pretty good job (this time) of not letting that get the better of me and of, instead, communicating my mood and desires to my Owner to do with as She will.

Schoolgirl Fantasy

My Owner and I were having a blissful sort of day, yesterday. It was the kind of day where everything flowed and we were just, quite simply, on the same wavelength all day long.

We started our day with some fascinating conversation over coffee and the conversation carried us through the next several hours until it gradually tapered off. The afternoon was quieter and at one point we found ourselves sprawled out on a picnic blanket in a shady spot under a tree watching a movie on Syr's netbook.

The movie, itself, was an adorable british comedy, but pervy me couldn't help but perk during one particular scene where a young woman was wearing a schoolgirl outfit, but with thigh high black stockings underneath. Syr noticed my perv-moment and teased me about it.

She made some offhand comment about how I wouldn't know what to do with one of those (a girl like the one in the movie) if I had one. This is true, I admitted quickly. I have always been physically attracted to feminine women, with a particular affinity for adult cheerleaders and women in schoolgirl uniforms - the young and innocent look on a grown up girl is hot, hot, hot to me. But, I also am only physically attracted - at a distant. I have an affinity for the look but would be petrified if one were actually standing in front of me. These women are fantasy-material, only, for me.

Syr then continued on to say... "But I would". The way She said it made my nether-regions do a little flip flop and my reaction must have been clear on my face because Syr perked right up. She clued in on my response right away. I muttered something shyly about how at least I could watch.

A fantasy began to be born and my Owner teased me with it for the duration of our afternoon. It played into my fantasies big time. Instead of needing to know what to do with one of these girls I like to fantasize about, I could bring one to my Owner and watch my Owner overpower her, fuck her, blow her mind - all while I watched. It was so hot to think about.

It is the kind of fantasy that I could not have even allowed myself to mentally entertain a few years ago when I was still raw and wounded from my adventures in open relationships and polymamoury. I am a monogomous girl. This fantasy is exciting and hot because it's a fantasy. It is not the kind of fantasy I would want in reality - that's part of what makes it so hot.

And I kept thinking about it. A lot. I was squirmy. I'm a very visual person. And after more and more teasing, an idea for a story was born. My Owner writes excellent stories, and it has been a while since She'd written one just for me. She got home from our wonderful day together and started writing. I couldn't have been more excited!

By the end of the night, when it was time to go to bed, Syr had a few pages down and She let me read them. They were.... amazing. I am very, very, VERY eager for the rest of the story.

But even thinking about the fantasy and what was written so far had me incredibly worked up! It was nearly 2am by this time and I knew the possibility of doing anything but just crashing into bed was unlikely. But when we got upstairs, Syr snuggled up to me on the bed and started verbally telling me a possible version of the story, and how it might end. She talked and talked until I was moaning with need.... and then She ordered me to undress and She got Her cock and I nearly squealed with delight.

What followed was that kind of sex that happens when both partners are just in exactly the right, and same kind of right, frame of mind. It was raw and animalistic and hot in exactly the right kind of ways. She kept talking about bits of the story as She fucked me, and I was over the edge. I came like the fourth of July and I don't think I moved after until sometime late this morning.

I kept thinking about it today and couldn't help succumbing to an urge to revel in some naughty bliss once more... with a bag of plastic clothespins and a vibrator (and my Owner's netbook set to one of my favourite porn-tube sites). Yes, I was a naughty girl, but really.... it is to my Owner's credit that I am feeling so insatiable all over again, so quickly after being so thoroughly ravished...

Belonging

There is some part of me, some hungry and needy part of me that can only be satisfied by truly belonging to Another. Not, of course, belonging to just anyone, but a particularly special Someone who has earned my trust and my devotion, not by being rough and tough (although I certainly appreciate some rough and toughness), but by being sincere, tender, unashamed to be Themselves, honest, loving, and strong, who sees me as not just good enough - but exactly what They need.

I lived a lifetime of not quite good-enough: Not quite good enough to commit to, to be faithful/loyal to, to keep around, to be kind to, to treasure, to cherish, to truly love. And it wasn't so much that I was not quite good enough, but that I wasn't perceived as good enough, or rather that I wasn't treated as good enough.

But, what I didn't realize, is that the reason this was so, was not because I was somehow lacking, but because they were a poor fit for me, and I for them. In that light, it could just as easily have been perceived as them not being 'quite good enough' for me either. It is a bit like a poorly fitting shoe. Is it the fault of the foot, or the shoe that the fit is poor and why do we struggle so hard to shove our feet in the shoe anyway? When we do that, we end up with a misshapen, permanently damaged shoe, and often a permanently damaged and hurt foot. Lose-lose.

It is only in hindsight that I can see all the poor fits of my past and it is in reviewing them that I am able to look at my present, at the right fit, and realize how completely and perfectly it... fits.

Every part of me is fulfilled within my marriage. My little girl side has a loving and nurturing and firm Daddy. My slave side has a tender, strong, and wise Master. My conventional side has a loving and fair companion who never makes me feel 'less than'. My traditional side has a wonderful and appreciative Butch spouse who appreciates those little traditional/stereotypically housewife things that I like to do, not because I am a femme fulfilling a 1950's stereotype but because I am a woman who happens to just love the 1950's style housewife role.

I just feel very blessed to have the exact life that I want, that I have sought, that I need, and that makes me feel as if all of me has room to express and to be - exactly as I am.

Thank You, my Owner, my Daddy, my Wife, my Syr, my Friend, and my Love for being such a perfect fit.

Healing

Her hand was suddenly at my throat, fingers curling over the edge of my collar, holding it tightly, making me instantly aware of the pressure of Her knuckles against my throat.

She pulled me up from where I sat back on my heels until I was kneeling up on my knees, arched. She tilted Her hand until my eyes met hers, my chin up instead of down, making sure I was meeting Her intent gaze.

Unexpectedly, Her hand swung back and she slapped me across the face, not nearly as hard as it felt to me in the moment but hard enough to get the message across.

"Who owns you?", She demanded in a voice that required I think about the answer before giving it.

"You do, Syr", came my whispered and reverent reply.

"Who VALUES you?" She almost growled, Her eyes boring fiercely into mine.

I swallowed, the world around us having ceased to exist. "You do, Syr."

"Do you get to decide how much I value you?" She asked, sternly.

The significance of the question settled down over and around me like a blanket and I paused before I replied, "No, Syr."

"Who gets to decide how much I value you?"

"You do, Syr."

She paused, giving my collar (and my head) a little shake to emphasize the point. "Do not EVER undermine me by presuming that your value to me is any less than I say it is. Is that understood?"

The tears spilled over and trickled down my cheeks as I held Her gaze. "Yes, Syr" came my trembling reply. No sooner was my response out of my mouth than my Owner pulled me tightly against Her, holding me close while I cried against Her bare chest.

Safe...

Contained...

Loved...

Valued.

Difficult conversations

I've found that one of the hardest things about being in a 24/7 relationship is the difficult emotional stuff. We are each holding each other to a particular standard when it comes to communication and commitment to being our best.

My Owner had to have a difficult conversation with me today around one of my bad habits that She needs me to break, permanently, not only because it's unhealthy for me but because it's triggery for Her. This is, therefore, both a very serious relationship concern AND a D/s concern. There is a rule that I need to be obeying.

First of all, I just have to say, never underestimate the power of a stern lecture.

But seriously, sometimes being called on your stuff is hard. It's hard for both sides of power-exchange relationship. While I think all relationships would benefit from this depth of conversation and honesty with one another, power-exchange relationships require it in order to maintain a healthy balance between desires and functionality and true emotional/psychological health of both parties involved. The bottomy type person in the relationship needs to be able to speak up if the Toppy type person is doing something they are finding damaging/harmful (if the Toppy person doesn't know). The bottomy person has to be able to be clear about necessary boundaries, triggers, and emotional/psychological landmines that might need to be navigated around. The Toppy type person in the relationship has a responsibility toward making sure that they are not overstepping healthy lines, that they are keeping an eye out for the greater good of the bottom as well as the relationship, and that they are being vocal about what THEY need to feel safe/nurtured, etc as well. There are a zillion other communication needs as well... these are just some examples.

So, in this case, with a bad habit of mine the topic of conversation, some big stuff had to be discussed involving my Owner's personal background/triggers around it as well as my desire for help breaking the habit in the form of requested punishment. My Owner needed to know that I was as fully understanding of how this issue felt to Her emotionally and as fully committed to breaking the habit as I was desiring Her help with it. In other words, She needed to know that I wasn't just putting the responsibility on Her to 'fix it', which in a way I sort of was, but out of thoughtlessness/carelessness not ill intent.

But I find that conversations like this are tough. It's tough to hear that something you're doing feels harmful to your partner and it's tough to be held accountable and to be given responsibility and ownership over something and explained the consequences (both from a punishment perspective and a RELATIONSHIP perspective) if you can not fulfill your responsibilities.

In this way, I suppose, I feel far far more vulnerable in a power-exchange relationship than I ever did in former non-power-exchange relationships.

So today is sort of about that vulnerability. I don't feel 'scared', I just feel raw and sensitive and a little down on myself for the habit and contrite in a deep way. I don't know how to describe it..... just where my head is at.

Feeling soft

I am having one of those days where I just feel very soft and content and so safe and loved that I am almost scared. I don't suppose that makes any sense. I feel very open and vulnerable and I suppose in times like this, when I realize just how blessed I truly am, how held and loved and connected I am to my Owner, my Wife, my Daddy, that I get afraid of losing this feeling.

It seems a little silly, but mostly I'm just happy.

I have a partner, a lover, an Owner, a Daddy, and a Wife who I can share anything and everything about myself with and know it will be okay, that I will be safe. That is not something to be underestimated. I have shared myself before, only to find that I placed my trust either carelessly or prematurely. Knowing how safe I am makes me feel almost giddy and reckless.

I wonder sometimes at the magic that is being so completely and totally in love. It is one of the most powerful things there are in this world. So I suppose a part of me is luxuriating in a bit of revelling and just enjoying the moment in my life as a snapshot in a time of just... wonderfulness.

I am...

I am...

A little girl femme: Carefree and truly adoring of rainbows... butterflies... rainbows... pink... unicorns... and eating lucky charms for breakfast at work much to the dismay of my special-k and kashi-crunching coworkers.

A professional femme: A would-be workaholic intent on maintaining work-life balance and mostly succeeding, an office mouse and not a corporate climber. I'm most content in the guts of the business, working the business not watching it and have no interest in stepping into middle (or upper) management.

A pagan femme: My spiritual path lies mostly on the shores of Avalon with my like-minded Sisters but it also is on my Yoga mat and in dharma and meditation and a good old fashioned full moon circle.

A believer femme: I believe. I believe in people, I believe in the people I love. I believe in things that people tell me I shouldn't believe in - like Unicorns and fairies and dragons and true love. I'm not afraid to believe. I've been hurt like crazy for believing, and I will never stop.

A kinky femme: I am a submissive and a masochist but my masochism is never really just physical, there is always an emotional link or need or connection with the experience. I have had transformative experiences on the cross or over a bench or up on a rack and I continue to have transformative experiences every time I dive deeper into my submission and commitment to my Owner (who is also my Wife).

A shy femme: I'm an online socializer and am shy or timid (or ridiculously babbly and unfocused) in person. It's hard for me to make friends in person because I feel awkward and I trust people too easily and am too invested in their opinion of me. I am raw and real and this makes me vulnerable. But I am authentic and so the friendships I do make are genuine ones.

A romantic femme: I know I am a walking stereotype in some ways. I like to be the nurturer and the cook and the homemaker and the child-rearer and the white-picket fence gazer. I love old fashioned chivalry. I love romantic gestures. I'm that girl that swoons over hand picked daisies and a surprise picnic and thinks romance isn't about money but about heartfelt gestures that make me feel appreciated. I thrive on finding ways to let my one and only know how appreciated and adored she is as well, and this is part of the romantic thrill for me.

A mothering femme: Parenting is a part of my identity now, because it has - in so many ways - changed my outlook on life, my priorities, and my ability to deal with life and to accept responsibility for myself, my actions, and their consequences. Being a parent to these boys (young men now) has been and is one of the most rewarding things about my life.

A questioning, seeking femme: I'm always learning, growing, evolving and becoming. I fit best with others who are also on this path. Being on a growth path/journey in this life can be challenging... and it can be hard to make friends and then lose them as your paths go different directions or one moves on while the other has to stay a while. Growing hurts, but it's worth it.

A silly femme: no explanation required.

Beyond satiated...

What a week!

A few days ago, Syr and I were getting ready to head to bed.  I had already changed into my nightgown and we were both doing a bit of last minute fussing around the kitchen and living room to get everything buttoned down for the night.  Syr surprised me by suddenly pressing me against the wall and kissing me deeply, groping by body playfully at the same time.  I remember giggling like a young girl, feeling the way Her hands were sneaking under the hem of my nightgown and pulling away half-heartedly lest we get walked in on.  My timing was impeccable as a few moments later, we were no longer alone.

After having moved into the kitchen to get a drink, though, we were suddenly alone again and Syr wasted no time. This time, She pressed me against the kitchen counter, tugging my panties over my hips to just above my knees, Her fingers found the heat and desire there and She commented on my readiness for Her.  When am I not ready for Her?

She started manipulating my body in that expert way that She does and I was very soon whimpering with need and desire against Her mouth as She kissed me deeply, making it clear that She intended to have me right there.  But, then, she stopped.  She pulled away, reminding me that She owed me a spanking for an earlier infraction.  She leaned me over the counter, my bottom high in the air as She pressed my shoulders down.  She lifted my nightgown up over my hips exposing my bottom and delivered several quick, sharp, slaps that were intense physically but also psychologically in the way that my Owner had caught me so off guard.  She stood me up and pressed me back against the counter and proceeded to work me over with Her fingers until I came, shuddering against Her.  She knew that, in spite of the orgasm She'd just given me that left me breathless, She had only lit the fire of my need... and I could see that evil twinkle in Her eye that made it quite clear She had every intention of stoking the flames even brighter once we were guaranteed a bit more privacy.

She made me wait though... teasing me agonizingly by continuing our evening chores, wandering by me to kiss me - causing me to tangle myself around Her and pull Her closer, demanding more as our mouths and bodies intertwined.... only to pull away just as I started to lose myself again.  She repeated this again and again for likely only minutes, but it felt like hours.... before taking me upstairs to bed.

There, I knelt near Her feet.  She pressed my forehead down to the carpet in front of Her and set one foot on the back of my head, reminding me both verbally and nonverbally that I am owned.  She pulled me up and laid me down on the bed and fucked me quite silly.  It was luxurious how in synch we were. It was sensual but intense the way that our bodies connected. We were mentally in the same place at the same time and everything just worked smoothly and perfectly.  She ground Her cock into me, hard, and ordered me to cum as She did, and then continued to fuck me thoroughly until I came as many times as satisfied Her.  We both collapsed afterward, neither of us willing to move.  We lay tangled in bedsheets and towels, each on the wrong side of the bed and fell asleep just like that.

The following morning had me walking on air.  I was blissful but couldn't get the previous evening out of my head. It was like I was stuck in my memories. I was totally unable to focus. Just thinking about the way She had taken me, had me when and where and how She liked drove me to distraction until, on a whim, I took a risk...

I headed to the washroom on a break and, once settled in a private stall, did a physical check of my cunt, fully expecting to find what I did: swollen, hot... wet... and my clit hard and throbbing.  I gave in to temptation and tentatively began making slow circles over my sensitive clit. It was going particularly well and I bit down hard on my bottom lip as I replayed the scene shared with my Owner the previous evening.  A certain part of me, a naughty part, knew how thoroughly pleased my Owner would be at my brazen behaviour, even though I was risking a punishment for playing without permission.  I imagined telling Her about what I'd done while my fingers moved in faster, and faster circles.  I grabbed my own thigh, digging my nails in deep as my muscles clenched and I arched back.  I was remembering how Her cock felt as it plunged in and out of me, and I remembered the huskiness of Her voice when She growled.... "CUM!" in my ear and I did just that, holding my breath to keep myself quiet in case the public washroom had become occupied while I was distracted.  I pulled myself together, washed up, and straightened my hair before heading back to work, much more able to focus.

As I suspected, my Owner clearly loved hearing about my office debauchery.  I could see Her swell with pride at how driven to distraction the previous evenings ministrations had left me.  It was hard to feel too guilty knowing how much of a thrill She got out of my brazen rule-breaking.  Clearly it was a decision that, while naughty, brought my Owner pleasure. 

Days later, She was still making proud side comments in my ear along the lines of.. "10am in the bathroom, huh?" which made me blush and wiggle as I remembered and made Her grin and strut with pride.  I could feel the energy She put off when we snuggled.  There is a way She touches me when She's not yet done having Her fill. She grinds against me when She spoons me. She lets Her fingers linger longer on the back of my neck, and Her touch is more purposeful. It was like that yesterday into the evening.  

I had been bratting earlier in the car and She had threatened a spanking if I continued. Now, in my defense, until a few months ago, a spanking was often with Her hand or at worst a paddle and rarely a "serious" punishment. It was often a more playful one, the kind that was thrilling and erotic but not particularly disciplinary.  However, since the red thing (Our friend T calls it the Wife beater as He has a matching one so perhaps I'll call it that, too).... has been reserved for very serious discipline for the breaking of, well really one very specific rule.  Since the bratting earlier was something else entirely, I was NOT expecting Syr to take the Wife Beater down off the wall and tell me to roll over on the bed with my bottom in the air.  I resisted, arguing that I had no idea that had been what She was threatening.  Syr reminded me that She can beat me, with the Wife Beater or any other implement for Her own amusement, even if there have been no infractions. I felt this was very unjust, but couldn't argue that She HAD warned me. I just didn't realize what I was being warned about at the time.  So, I did roll over, but not without a bit of 'encouragement' from Her hand in my hair.

She did not hold back and, as usual with the Wife Beater, I begged and sobbed and She still did not stop until She'd gone past what I could handle, making sure the message was loud and clear. I had no say, I am an owned slave and my Owner may do what She wishes with me and this was for my greater good.  I was, as always, grateful even through my tears but She did not hold me for quite as long this time.  Instead, She left me to my tears and before I realized what was happening, She was pulling me up onto my knees, my hot and stinging bottom toward Her as Her cock nudged against my cunt. 

She marvelled at how much of a contradiction it must feel like for me to be so contrite and tearful while my pussy was so hot and wet and ready for Her.  I can't explain how the discipline that She provides can be so intense and truly physically painful and emotionally taxing and yet leave me so ready for Her, so aching for Her... but it does. And this is the first time She has taken advantage of that since She introduced true corporal punishment into our dynamic months ago.  She wasted no time plunging Her cock into me, letting my stinging bottom smack against Her.  I felt so taken, so thoroughly owned, and this position is particularly intense due to the size of my Owner's cock.  She did not hold back as She tangled Her hands in my hair and pulled me roughly back onto Her again and again before ordering me to cum.  

After just one orgasm, She ordered me onto my back and took me that way.  She was merciless and rough but tender as always in the ways that matter. It's so hard to describe how well balanced we are in bed.  The way that She maintains control and intensity and makes me feel so thoroughly claimed and submissive, fully surrendered - and yet can touch me so gently and kiss me so passionately.  Sometimes i feel like being this in love and this fully devoted to each other is a walking contradiction to the intensity of an Owner/slave dynamic but my Goddess - it really works.    

Syr worked me over with Her cock for over an hour.  I lost count of how many times I came for Her. I remember the desperate way I clung to Her body, the times She made me wait and beg as She moved slowly and the times She moved faster than I thought possible piling my orgasms on top of one another like building blocks.  I remember the point I reached when I thought my clit was on fire and She sat up and away from me, bringing my own hand to my clit and ordering me to get myself off, as I had in the bathroom the other day, but this time while She moved Her cock inside me.  I came explosively after that, and again... and again.  I was sobbing while She fucked me with the biggest emotional release I've had in some time.

When I woke this morning, I could barely move. Every muscle in my body hurts, including ones I didn't know I had.   She so thoroughly decimated me last night that my libido is almost nonexistent.  My body is almost devoid of sensation in the wake of the sensory overload of the last few days and I am...

totally....

satiated.

Chores and embedded D/s

My Owner requested an update on how I'm feeling about my chores.  It's been a while now. I'm not sure how long I've had daily little 5 minute minimum chores every day, but it's a pretty embedded routine now.

I think that there have been times that my consistency has been better (or worse) than at other times, but for the most part, I'm really keeping them in mind all the time.  Some days I do quite a bit more than 5 minutes in each room. Some days, I do just about 5 minutes exactly.  And, there have been days that I've spent just a few moments.  But I've also noted that if I have missed a chore for any reason, that I often play "catch up" and clean any rooms I've missed at my next opportunity, so I think I feel a certain degree of ownership over the chores and making sure they get done.

It is a small but constant routine, though, that reminds me that I am doing them because I am owned and it is an expected service. This, alone, has done wonders for my mindset because it is an anchor point for when I first get home from work. And since I have an anchor point at bedtime, too, with the sleeping collar and ankle-cuff/chain combo - I have an anchor point at either end of my workday evenings. This has been really helpful. Weekends are a little bit more relaxed as I generally am only supposed to be doing the laundry-folding, but I often find myself a touch more service oriented on weekends, anyway, since I have additional time.  I make sure to make my Owner's coffee most of the time on weekend mornings, for example.

I never thought I'd "like" chores, but the reality is that I have a sense of accomplishment for the little ways that this keeps our home more straightened up in the little ways that can more easily be neglected.  And it has made my Owner feel more nurtured which is a huge perk.

All in all, I'm still really happy with them and so glad my Owner implemented them and that I followed through.  We've really reached a new place with our D/s where it feels much more 'embedded' into our day.  Between chores, bedtiime rituals, punishments, and such I am a lot more mindful of my place in the household and relationship on a more ongoing and consistent basis.  This comes in handy when there is tension! ;)

An example....  Last night, Syr asked me to declutter my little shelf next to where my computer lives and - without over-analyzing - I totally reacted badly .... well overreacted really and was all kinds of out of line with tone and word-choice and stuff. I was getting so mad and upset and after arguing with me a bit, right in the middle of a tense moment, Syr just finally looked at me and said "You need to stop right now, go sit down on the couch and be quiet for a few minutes".  I just looked at Her, the urge to say something, ANYTHING, was so strong. I opened my mouth and then shut it again and went and sat down.  I felt as if I had been put on a 'time out'.  So I just sat there quietly and thought about my behaviour (and obviously quickly realized I'd been behaving badly).  Then, I had to fight the urge to try to "fix it" by offering an apology. I reminded myself that if Syr asked me to sit quietly for a few minutes, then Syr would tell me when it was time to talk again.  I was actually mentally playing through all the scenarios of how long that might be. I pictured Her keeping me on 'quiet time' until it was time to sleep and how I would kneel by the bed but still not say anything (even apologize - eek hard!) until She told me to get into bed..... I went through all the possibilities and told myself that no matter what I was going to be quiet until She invited me to speak again, because that was all about trusting the order She'd given. It was really quite the mental process and I was actually really proud of how trusting I was able to be at that point.   Thankfully, after about five minutes, Syr asked me some questions about the argument and i was feeling very softspoken and contrite and was able to answer Her questions respectfully.  When She was done, I paused for a few moments and then apologized, sincerely, for my bad behaviour.  And we went to bed, both content with how things had been resolved.  

This sort of interaction just wouldn't have happened like this even a few months ago.  But the more embedded the D/s gets into our day to day world, the easier it gets to allow it space when it is needed.  I feel very grateful for this new level of consistency and reality within the power exchange of our relationship.

Sleeping soundly

I've been sleeping very soundly, recently.  I credit a number of things for the renewed sense of security and restfulness that I wake up with each morning.

Among these is my deeper sense of submission and obedience that has been unwavering since my epiphany a few weeks ago.  Trust, faith, and service come easily or at least easier these days, and it is as if I am more in touch with myself.  I am more self-aware and more able to curb negative behaviour patterns before they even start.  Moments that, pre-epiphany, would have certainly led to a great deal of tension or even an argument instead seem to more often morph into conversation, most of the time shortly after I have voluntarily sat or kneeled down on the floor in front of my Owner to continue the discussion.

And along with this new sense of ease with my submission, there is an increased self-confidence and pride in my ability to overcome the negative habits of my past - which then makes it even easier to continue along this path.

And then there are rituals that have been very, very good for both of us.

There are the chores that I have written about, previously, that are becoming almost automatic. They are nearly habitual - though I still have to make a conscious effort to remember each day, the remembering is easy.  Coming home from work, my chores are nearly always the very first thing I do. And as I complete each task I am reminded of my role in the household and to my Owner, and garner a deep sense of satisfaction from knowing I am being a very good girl - and without prompting or reminding from Syr.  I have also noticed that my chores act as a segue between my work day and my at-home evening.  The 15-30 minutes of quiet activity give me time to clear my head and shake free lingering stresses from my work day and slip into the softer energy and role I have in our home.

Of course, I have already written about the introduction of more serious forms of punishment into our dynamic.  Syr has been unfailing in Her follow-through in this area and I am eternally grateful for the solidity that this has granted.  I have found myself even more surprised, in an amused sort of way, at my compulsion to confess infractions - even knowing what awaits me as punishment.  She has not held back from delivering on promised punishments even when mundane/vanilla life circumnstances could have distracted Her. The other night, for example, I had confessed to the breaking of a rule and knew I had a punishment coming. I fell asleep that evening on the couch while She played on the computer and when She took me upstairs to bed, a part of me was convinced She had forgotten, but She hadn't and She followed through in spite of the lateness of the hour and how sleepy we both were. I am grateful for the consistency because it is working.  A rule I used to struggle on a near hourly basis not to break, I am suddenly only breaking a few times a week, sometimes less. It's a big success because it has been a very long-standing bad (mostly subconscious) habit.  And I know that these punishments will eventually extend to other broken rules or infractions as well and I find that I am still so grateful for that and so glad for the boundaries it has created.

And then there is bedtime...

Syr recently began putting me in a simple collar every night for sleeping. The collar was bought, intended to be a "sleeping collar", and has been a wonderful anchor point in our day.  At bedtime, I kneel by the bed, and other than my position it is not an overly formal moment.  It is just that it is intimate and real and potent for me to remember my place each evening before I go to sleep.  The click of the collar snapping shut never ceases to jolt me sharply with the reminder that I am owned, always.

And even more recently, Syr had the idea to begin chaining me into bed each evening. I embraced this idea with a great deal of enthusiasm. I was so sure I would love it - and I did.  Syr very subtly attached the chain leash to a steel post in the base of the bed in such a way that the chain is very easily hidden and can stay set up at all times. On the clip end of the chain is a single ankle cuff.  Each night after my collar is put in place and I have been given permission (whether verbal or nonverbal) to climb into bed, Syr attaches the ankle cuff and I feel the coolness of the chain and the security of my restriction.  And I sleep..... like a baby.

To avoid disturbing Syr in the morning, I remove the cuff myself when I wake in the morning, and if She is sleeping soundly, I will remove the sleeping collar myself too, though most mornings - She does that, even if groggy.  This doesn't take away from the meaning of the two things as I have not once sought to remove either item before the appropriate time and I am being held willfully after all. The collar and cuff are something I look forward to every night.

These rituals have their part to play but I know that it is a combination of all these things that have led to this increased sense of peace and security in myself and in my relationship with my Owner.  It's always been there, it's just that I'm more in touch with it now.

I'm so in love.

Awareness

Ever since this new shift in our dynamic, I have been finding myself increasingly aware of the way that I act and talk to my Owner. I mean, it seems like basics, right? But it's so easy to become complacent.

It's not something I'm forcing, but it's happening naturally.  Syr says She would really like a coffee while we're running around doing errands. She never says another thing about it, but when we get home, I just remember and make Her a coffee.  It's little service things like that that are becoming increasingly natural for me to do.

When it comes to speaking, I'm a nitpicky personality and it can be habit for me to make little comments about annoying little household maintenance things. Often, I'll just make a quick little flippant comment and go about my day.  It's not one of my more attractive qualities, though, and I'm fairly confident not one that Syr finds particularly charming.

In any case, this morning while stumbling into the kitchen to make coffee, I noticed the lid to the sugar dish had been left off, again. I wasn't really very awake and started to say something about it and then just stopped. Like I literally started to make a flippant comment and the first syllable was out and then my mouth snapped shut.  I knew I had to find a better way to say it ... but it took four open mouth to speak then stop moments to find the respectful tone I was searching for in my not-yet-caffeinated brain.  I found it, though, and my Owner, while partially amused at all the stops and starts, noted that I often make those types of comments without thinking at my most awake of moments and here I was, groggy and by all rights should be at my worst for being able to pay attention to things like tone and yet... I had.

Boundaries seem to make a significant difference in things like attitude and the ease with which I might move into and out of 'service mode'.  One could argue that, as Her slave, I should be in service mode at all times, but we're realistic and there is a difference between being 'willing' to provide service to my Owner when She asks for something (which i almost always am) and being eager to.  The moods where I am "eager" to provide service are certainly mood based and usually these modes are when I'm going way above the call of duty. What is cool is that these moments are happening more and more frequently to the absolute delight of us both.

A little later on this morning and into the early afternoon, I was having a wierd day mood-wise so I was feeling sassy and bratty. I was feeling off kilter, out of balance, and generally just sorta off and on grumpy.  It wasn't a big deal at all but when Syr got home from work I just was struggling hard to find that little place. Syr wasn't minding too much the place I was in. She enjoys having a bratty submissive at times. She doesn't want me always on perfect behaviour. She likes the take down as much as I enjoy it on occasion and we've gotten good at communicating when She's in the mood to be amused by bratty behaviour and when it's way out of line.

But, She also recognized in the midst of my bits of brattiness this afternoon, that I was not entirely comfy being in a bratty headspace.  So, when I was kneeling in front of Her in the living room and made a smart-ass comment, She slapped me across the face - hard - and smiled, certainly sadistically, as my brattiness bottomed out and I tumbled deep into the recesses of my submission once again.  Moments later, breathless, I begged Her to take my breath and She happily complied, sealing my mouth and nose tightly with Her hand as I struggled and then, released me. As I gasped, She pulled me tight against Her and I floated once more in the submissive place I had been struggling to find, unable to resist brushing my fingers against the heat still lingering on my cheek.

She'd had Her fun with my brattiness, and knew when it was to my benefit to make it stop - and She did so with astounding efficiency.  And lo and behold, it wasn't but an hour later that I was happily giving Her a bit of a mini manicure, doing laundry and dishes and puttering happily around the house.

I love my life.

The power of a sore bottom

I have a very, very sore bottom today.  I broke a rule yesterday, while I was at work, and confessing the breaking of it did not absolve me of a deserved punishment when I got home.

My Owner had me pull my pants and panties down, exposing my bottom, and lay face down on the bed. I've taken to grabbing a nearby pillow for these disciplinary sessions to muffle my cries.  She used "the red thing" (which has yet to have a proper name but in its former life was intended to be a plastic japanese-style rug beater).  And I begged, pleaded, cried and still the blows came.  She stopped when I was sobbing and quite contrite, my bottom burning from the sting of the punishment She'd delivered.  After, She held me and reminded me of the reason for my punishment before having me pull my panties and pants back up so that we could go out for the evening.

Words can not describe how different ... and how deeply contained and truly owned I feel knowing that She is willing to discipline me in this way.  It's not something either of us really had experience with. I'd been punished before but somehow, those always felt as if I had a measure of control - both with Her and in previous relationships. It always felt like discipline would be within a sort of jointly acceptable "comfort zone" even if unpleasant.  But these implements being used of late to discipline me are not comfortable, and more so I find that She doesn't stop simply because I beg for Her too. My attempts to say "wait... just a break for a moment..." or whatever it is I am pleading while She is delivering a punishment fall on deaf ears and there is something so ... powerful about that.  There is NOTHING about the experience of being on the receiving end of this discipline that I have any control over whatsoever. I realize that this is exactly how it SHOULD be, but my Owner and I are learning much of this together.  I came into the relationship with more kink "experience" but that mostly amounted to past relationships which had few similarities to this one. My relationship with my Owner is many things but it is deeper, more complete, more absolutely connected than any from my past and so things still need figuring as we go along.

The power of this recent journey into corporal punishment was confirmed for me when later that evening, due to lack of sleep and a number of other factors, I got distracted and broke the same rule a second time.  In absolute honesty, I was feeling little but I was also very zoney and distracted.  We were with company but we were in a situation that required vanilla context. Despite the stingy soreness of my already punished bottom, I didn't pay close enough attention and made the same mistake I had made earlier that day.  I will admit that, mostly since this whole punishment thing is new, I really thought that my Owner would overlook it. She is only really recently starting to play with the feeling of actual sadism. In the past, the major driving force behind Her enjoyment of hurting me has come from the effect it is having on me. But, more recently, She has been discovering some of the darker joys to be had in enjoying it because She actually LIKES hurting me.  In any case, much of this is new enough that I really didn't think She would punish me in such a harsh physical way twice in the same evening.  And, I also really sort of thought that since it was so late at night and so tempting to just tumble right into bed that She would forget or get distracted or just decide She wasn't up for it.

I was wrong.  She assured me I would be punished before bed and even though we spent the next hour or two talking about mundane things, when we went upstairs, She had me strip to my bare bottom and lay down in the same place on the bed.  I found this surprising, and equally surprising that She did not go a bit 'easier' on my poor, already sore bottom.  Amid my tears, I felt a new wave of something - and at the risk of sounding offensive would say it was like a deeper core level of respect.  She wasn't going to forget and She wasn't going to be inconsistent. These were hard lines... boundaries She had drawn and She was fully intending to hold them.  There is nothing for me to do but surrender, and trust.  And that is a really powerful thing.

My bottom is still so sore today, and I am astounded that I can feel such immense gratitude, such overwhelming containment, such purity of submission and even pleasure at the effect of the punishment - and yet be so absolutely terrified of the punishment itself.  I have ascertained that this combination means that the punishment is WORKING, but the juxtaposition of my emotions is still so fascinating, which I suppose must be fairly obvious to those who read this blog since I have so repetitively been writing about this topic. ;)