Saturday, October 30, 2010

BDSM Toy International Travel Tip

Before my trip I was being my normal self and researched this topic by searching google for anyone's experiences in this regard. I didn't find any terribly recent information, most of the posts were as old as four or five years. So I just wanted to write this post in case another lucky American submissive has met her dream Master in Europe and needs to travel abroad with toys and have the time of her life.

I packed leather cuffs (wrist and ankle), a crop, a flogger, a blindfold, a gag and some clothespins. I was terribly nervous about being pulled aside at security at any one of the three airports I visited on my journey to be asked “and what exactly is this for” or some other ridiculously obvious question.

Needless to say not a single mention from anyone. Granted, the toys were in my checked baggage that I had checked at the ticket counter and didn't see again until it came out on the conveyer. But even so, I had read one blog (way closer in time to 9/11 and heightened security) where someone was taken to the luggage area under the plane on a tarmac and questioned about their bdsm toys.

So anyone else curious about security that googles “sex toys, bdsm toys, airport security, or international travel” will be happy to note that at least in my case, it could not have been easier to travel with toys.

Friday, October 29, 2010

Throat Raping and Other Romantic Gestures

I'm not a braggart. I am not terribly driven or competitive. But there are three things I know I do well. Give a back rub, make an omelet, and give a blowjob. I thoroughly enjoy doing these things and I'm unashamed to say unless I'm drunk or otherwise distracted, I consistently do these three things well.

I love worshiping my Master's cock. I really could not tire of giving him whatever pleasure he wants. The crazy thing is, his and my libido really matched well, too. I like to say I'm insatiable (and I have my moments) but my trip certainly had the perfect balance of good quality downtime, as well. It's funny, it's not that I didn't picture he and I just hanging out, I couldn't really picture it before it happened. You can't know how your personality and face-to-facedness is going to match until you've just actually done it. But there we were, laughing our asses off, watching tons my new favorite show, “The In-Betweeners.” Having those kind of memories as well as the filthy, degrading, stupidly sexy ones makes me just as happy, just in a different way. A more content way, I'd say.

But back to throat raping. I had never really noticed how much I liked it until my Master and I'd done some talking about it (and porn watching of it.) See, because giving a blowjob isn't about control for me. But throat raping is really ONLY about control. Breath control, a hole on my body control, plus it's not like I get to truly worship his cock or do what I want type of control. It's almost like a duel between he and I. I try to make my mouth and throat as willing and as nongag-y as possible, while still sucking and trying to lick and worship. He's throat raping me with more sexual intensity and degradation than I've ever experienced. It's an amazing combination, let me tell you.

And let's be honest. Throat raping. It's a pretty offensive sounding phrase. (which is why when I thought of the blog title this morning, driving my car, it made me happy) But there's 28 very sharp reasons why it's not “rape.” My goal in a throat raping is to still attempt to make my mouth as compliant as possible. Biting his cock is fucking never an option. But then, we're struggling hard on the bed. I'm trying to swallow him whole and not need air. Apparently at one point, needing air became too important and I tapped out UFC-style.

I say apparently because I don't remember tapping out, only that I didn't get unconscious. It was so intense for me, my play with my Master. It was so different than how I've experienced subspace. Playing in the past (or times my Master has talked to me with his Dom voice and sent me off into a fog), it's more like a float-y, sexual, do whatever he wants, say whatever he wants. But really, out of my body. Blindfolds or hoods, loss of my senses is more how I'd experienced it in the past. Like a different type of high. There's times in subspace that I think I might be a masochist. I just want more of anything and everything, pain, fucking, whatever. Just more, more, more.

But times playing with my Master, I experienced a more intense like...interactive space. He really brought out the struggler, the competitor in me. He was never out of my sights, though, and/or I was never off in my head by myself in the fucking least. And subspace also numbs me out to pain a LOT. That and my Master has some really fucking strong hands. So I found myself very, very intensely IN the scene. Feeling the roughness and not just lying complacently taking it, but almost giving it back some.  And at the same time, battling with myself to be obedient as best I can be while I'm struggling to breathe.  I don't feel like I'm completely explaining this well. I wonder if there's different levels of subspace or like a different phrase that I'm unfamiliar with which is what I was experiencing.

I have so many more stories, things to share, hot fucking thoughts and deep thoughts from my trip. I wish life would just go away for about three days so I could just write and write about it. I'm starting a list of things I want to make sure I cover in my blog. There's so much good writing material in my head, I feel like I have gone to a writers' idea think tank or symposium.

Thursday, October 28, 2010

An Awful, Wonderful Game

I plan on writing the mushy stuff, the darker, deeper stuff and lots and lots of hot, fucking sexy stuff. But I'm just going to say that I'll write it as I feel it. This is in no way, shape, or form a complete chronology of my trip. It was way too dream-like and intense to write it out in such a form. And honestly, I don't have the time or the attention span to sit here and type some sort of report from start to finish what happened. So instead, as stuff comes to me (or cums to me, as the case may be, I'll explain this in a second) I'll blog it.

So back to that cumming thing. It's funny, I got back Tuesday and until late late last night when I'd had like my 42nd orgasm replaying the footage of this game in my head and cumming like a banshee, I couldn't put to words a single thing about my trip. Granted (as my own personal therapist and translator of my jumbled up thoughts and perceptions, otherwise known as my Master) said I hadn't had the opportunity to really let myself relive or recall anything because I'd been too busy trying to reacclimate myself to my home life and my much neglected job responsibilities. (Please, in the future, someone remind me I'm not ever going to be motivated to work when I'm in England and I need to keep my inbox a little lighter so the coming back to reality isn't as stressful.)

So here's a game that we played that I couldn't stop thinking about last night. I was naked on the hotel bed. I can't even remember if Mr. G was clothed or naked at the time. He was playing a game with me that I hated and loved so simultaneously, it's hard to even imagine. It really is like delicious fucking torture.  Actually, all I can think about when imagining this game is his calm face above mine, looking down at me and either laughing, smiling or just watching me. He can look at me in such a way that I swear to God, he sees through me. He reads me like a book that he wrote the Cliffsnotes to.

Oh, while I digress, and just in case anyone's wondering, there really was no awkwardness. I shocked myself by not giggling like a schoolgirl and we clicked immediately in person (as he said we would) And it's as if we'd spent the perfect amount of time getting to know one another to now really get to explore one another.

So he's fingering me, really just bringing me right to the brink of cumming. At first, I'm pretty sure I always got to the asking (begging, pleading) stage before he'd stop and just watch me. He did this so many times, I was making noises I'm pretty sure only animals make. Plus, he brings out the struggler in me that I've never even known existed. So he'd get me sooooo close to cumming and then pin me down, hold me down tight while I cursed and grunted and thrashed. I never was like striking AT him.

Even when I thought I might die or stroke out or something, I wasn't ever trying to be disobedient. And he knew it.  I think at one point I got a little too feisty and he told me to “behave” (I might be mixing up scenes here) But I wanted to cum more than I wanted my heart to beat again. He really brought me to the animal place of nothing matters, not a fucking thing but Him and cumming. His hand. Cumming. Please don't fucking stop. Please, Master, PLEASE?!  He stopped so many times. 

The funny part is, even though he'd never touched me before, it really seemed like he just knew me inside and out. Eventually (whether I was actually trying to slip one by him or just couldn't really even beg to cum any longer) I'd just get so close without asking permission and he'd just stop, take his hand out of my pussy, and just hold me down. Fingers fucking me so good, so fucking right, so close, so close, so close. Then withdraw his hand completely and hold me down so tight on the bed while I lost my mind.

And then finally, I'm pretty sure he made me cum like a ridiculous amount of times in a row. He is so very good at torturing me, but even better at balancing it just right, just so, just before I seriously can't take it anymore, he then rewards me and compliments me and makes me cum and cum and cum. His aftercare is as sweet and safe and loving as his play is rough and fucking intense and hot. God, I can't wait to play this game again.

Smooth Pussy Revisited

Just a quick update on the hair removal question I'd posted a while back on my blog. Since I so rarely get comments, I really wanted to thank everyone for their suggestions and solutions of how they deal with it. I knew I couldn't possibly be the only slave having unsightly skin irritation issues.

I have twice now gone and gotten a Brazilian wax. And really, minus the fact that there's a small Korean lady all in my business for about 15 minutes.  And I swear I'm NOT a masochist and there's a pretty good rip every now and then, I've found that the regrowth is SO slow and I have hardly any irritation at all. And honestly, I think this is only going to get better, the more I do it, the less irritation I will even get.

So anyone who's really having shaving/lotion/tweezer disasters like I did, I highly recommend it. And I don't even go anywhere fancy like a spa, just the little nail shop up the street where it's clean and I can get in and out.

a nibble, a nosh, a snack if you will...

I promise I haven't quit my blog.  As a matter of fact, I want to dive in and just write and write and write about my trip and everything that's happened since the last time I wrote.  Unfortunately, I haven't caught up with real life yet.  But let me just tease a bit and say I really have so much to say and promise (cross my heart) to write at least a little every day until I have relived and recalled every sordid, juicy bit of my visit.   And there are quite a few really good juicy bits...

And as a showing of good faith that I'm still very committed to my blog, and obviously because I'm so proud to be his dirty slut, I am sharing this photo of my freshly spanked ass.  Plus, there really aren't too many occasions (if ever!) in my life that I've seen a photo taken of my ass and went "wow!  that looks amazing!" so I had to share.  And honestly, that may not impress some hardcore spanking folks out there, but that was strictly from my Master's hand and it certainly made a lasting impression on me.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

All's Fair in Love and Slavery

I know anyone reading this blog would be shocked and amazed to find that I sometimes grumble under my breath about my Master.  Yes, I know, everyone just thinks I sing love songs and go about my busy vanilla life in a happy, dazed fog of love for Mr. G.  And honestly, there are definitely whole days that do pass exactly like that.  I work, cook, wife, mommy, clean, take care of pets, etc. with a blithe smile on my face and a twinkle in my eye.

But every now and then I fuck up (or it's perceived that I've fucked up) and am punished.  Now, this is when the distance thing *really* sucks.  Don't get me wrong, when the time for rewards comes up (or play time or whatever) and I'm an ocean away from him, it's a bit of a struggle, too.  But it really seems worse when I've screwed up, broken a rule or just done or said something asinine and pissed off my Master.  Because that's really part of the beauty of M/s relationships.  When the slave has messed up, there's a built in remedy of punishment to deal with it.  It's so much nicer than vanilla relationships where you fuck up, you know you've fucked up and then you just have to be humble and chagrined for a few days, trying to make up for it. 

There is great satisfaction in having messed up, knowing I've messed up and then having my Master deal with it (dole out a punishment) and be done with it, moving on to bigger and better things.  The fact that he can't take his belt off and have me bend over a sofa to take my lashings or something equally as humiliating and painful is incredibly frustrating at times (for us both, I assure you)  And luckily, Mr. G is always good enough after my long-distance punishment (and proper grovelling) to tell me, it's okay, I'm over it, let's move on.  Because, honestly, I will continue to beat myself up over things I've thought I could've done better for WAY too long.  And I love that he gives me that permission to get over it and move on, because then I do. 

But there is another part of this Master/slave component that can be very frustrating, as well.  Luckily, this hasn't come up much.  But it just happened the other night.  I'm not going to go into boring detail, but needless to say, he was irritated with me, didn't like the way I'd handled something and punished me for it (this particular punishment doesn't even sound harsh, but it really was due to the disappointment factor.  my getting to see him on skype was promised and then yanked away from me when this little incident happened and timing-wise, skype isn't always the easiest to maneuver, with our two families, so to have it promised and then taken away really fucking sucked) 

And here's the kicker.  I still don't think I *really* did anything punish-worthy.  I even sort of tried to argue my case, but then hearing the decisiveness in his voice, I realized very quickly this was futile and shut my lawyer-like mouth.  And I'm a very fair-minded person.  Doing what I do for a living, I've really decided to hear both sides of things as much as I can before deciding for myself what to think.  So to not even really be able to debate the "rightness" of my side was incredibly frustrating.  (and being told "know your place" ordinarily would irk me to no end, but coming from him, and the way he said it, really just made me want to kneel in front of him and thank him for reminding me) 

It's a fairly bitter pill to swallow and yet, it's the reality of the situation.  He has every right to punish me for something he feels there needs to be retribution for.  And it's my place to just accept it and move on, knowing I will never, ever make that mistake again.  And luckily, he's a level-headed and reasonable man.  He doesn't confuse me by changing the rules mid-game or come up with impossible situations, to test me or force me to fail.  He really doesn't enjoy punishing me any more than I want to be punished.  (and honestly, disappointing him really makes me so sick in the pit of my stomach, that the punishment being given is usually a bit of a relief because I don't have to keep battering myself internally. It's his job to punish me, teach me the lesson and then we can move on, hopefully with me a better slave and us a little closer for having been through it.)  Unless, of course, I don't think I did anything wrong.  Then the lesson learned is....I'm the slave, he's the Master, and I need to know my place.