Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Me So Horny

Yes, I know.  This is a shocking revelation to anyone who has read more than one blog of mine.  I also have been listening to a lot of late 90's, early 2000's rap and hip hop.  This all feeds into my mental state of mind, though.  I remember listening to "Put Her In the Buck" and the noises that the girl is making in the background used to make me want to touch myself right then and there.  I have had a lifetime of probably too many orgasms.  I don't exaggerate when I say I used to masturbate pretty much every single day, sometimes more than once.  And usually my plays don't consist of one quick orgasm, then back to work or whatever.  I usually would give myself a minimum of four, up to as many as EIGHT orgasms in a day. 
 
And I know that orgasm control is so much a part of it for my Master.  He likes to decide when and if his slut gets to cum.  And I was a bad girl Saturday night.  I was disobedient and stupid and got in trouble.  I really do wonder if I just acted out to get a punishment.  I hope that wasn't my true motivation.  I do really pride myself on wanting to be a good girl.  I want nothing more than to make Mr. G proud to call me his.  But I do crave the Dominance part of him so much.  I am very very lucky in that we get to have regular contact (more than you'd think, really, living two continents and five clock hours apart).  But minus the following of his rules, which is an everyday thing for me now, sometimes I don't get to hear his Dom voice for days and days and days.  And I crave that as much as I crave serving him with my body.  Maybe even more so.  I can't think of any other reason why I did exactly the opposite of what my Master had said except that I had a bratty, selfish moment.  And now I'm being punished.
 
No orgasms until further notice.  Part of it that makes me crazy is the not knowing for how long.  I so rarely get punished, I never really know what to expect. 

So I am wearing clothespins on my nipples right now because my need is so great, my craving so intense, that pain is helping slightly to fill that ache.  The best part is, I have them on under my bra, under my sweater.  So they are pinching and wrenching my nipples sideways in a fantastically uncomfortable way.  It's bringing a smile to my face as I type this.  I need to hurt for him.  I need to be used by him.  I need to hear him call me his whore, his dirty girl.  When I get like this, I go darker and darker places.  I want him to spank me until I cry.  I want to feel his teeth biting at me so hard that it leaves imprints for hours, maybe bruises after.  I want to hear his sadistic laugh and know my body is his to abuse in whatever dirty, slutty, whorish way he wants.  I go to that place sometimes in needing, in craving, where I fear I would do anything he asked, without a second thought.  I'm thankful I have a trustworthy Master.  It's a seriously scary thing even admitting that.  And luckily, our kinks match up very well and there's only a few things that he's threatened me with that did anything except make me moan and turn into a mouth-breather.
 
I wish working out helped this need to be pillaged.  It doesn't, sadly.  And since I've been his good slave and have faithfully been keeping my food/exercise journal, I can't even go eat my sorrows away in a big fat chocolate cake.  So no cumming, no food orgy, another MONTH before I get to see him.  Wow.  I might need more clothespins. 

What a horribly vicious cycle.  I want some Masterly attention from him so I act out.  Only to get orgasms taken away from me.  Which makes me needy, short-tempered,  snarky, and bratty.  Damn it.  My Master deserves a better slave.  I really do wish sometimes I could dampen my wants, my yearning, my needing some of Mr.G so much.  And when I tell him this, he always says "you need to learn to love me/need me more" or something else that just makes me laugh and love him more.  And I have to say I have been so much better about keeping an even keel on the days we don't have much contact.  I try to be fun vanilla me when he's otherwise occupied and I think I've gotten much better at it.  And I have whole hours, afternoons, days even, where my vanilla happiness is more than enough.
 
But then the slave, slut, girl who needs his abuse just gets more and more restless.  And when I let myself think about him, us together, it's all about throat raping, ass-fucking, hurting for him.  I crave helping him cum more than even my own orgasm.  I want to bring him pleasure, either sexual pleasure with my mouth and other holes or sadistic pleasure, by being the object he so enjoys to torture.  And now, I feel a little lighter having typed this.  I think I'm going to go and put as many clothespins on my body as I can find and then smack them off one by one. 

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