Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Euphoria-Inducing Randomness

  • That feeling of pure excitement, adrenalin, like I'm about to jump out of a plane the minutes before I know I'm going to get to see my Master for the first time in months.
  • The sound of his laugh, a real one, from something funny I've said, where I can tell it caught him by surprise and also genuinely amused him.
  • When his hand slides into the back of the waistband of my jeans, down to my ass, to give it a grab and a squeeze, just because it's his and he can.
  • The huskiness in his voice when I'm being slutty and he likes it.
  • When he's fucking my mouth and he has one hand on the top of my head, gripping my hair, and the other is grasping my chin, holding my greedy and eager mouth in place.
  • Pure unconditional sub space, from rubbing his tired feet. 
  • The drug-like high from being afforded the chance to kiss and lick and touch him. Being allowed to truly worship his entire (at least upper) body with my hands and lips and tits.  And feeling his cock grow hard beneath me, knowing he's enjoying being adored.
  • When he says to me "is your pussy wet" on the phone and that anticipatory moment of waiting (hoping and mentally pleading) that he will tell me to check for him.
  • Drifting off to sleep, exhausted, sore, sated, knowing that I've pleased him well and feeling so very much his.

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Sinful Sunday - Ariel

Posted in participation with Sinful Sunday, hosted by Molly's Daily Kiss.
Click below to see who else is partaking this week.
Sinful Sunday

Saturday, May 19, 2012

Coining a Phrase and Cocksucking

My Master is the best at coining a word or phrase. I love to use made-up words in my everyday life, mostly because I love being original, and if that's what I want to call something, that's what I'm calling it. And one of the things I love about Mr. G is how he expresses himself. It helps that he uses amazing British phrases like “throw a spanner in the works” or when something goes “tits up”. I've a few times before written how I am terribly amused at all the different ways he uses the word “piss” (“piece of piss” is one that I giggle at every single time he says it, can't help myself)

I'm sure it's been used by others before, but he's the first person I heard use the word Domly. He also coined the phrase Ryan Seacrest-ish to describe an actor. I love that one! There's one other I can't think of now that he's recently said and dammit if my recordkeeping has failed me and I can't find the note I wrote, keeping track of these great words he's invented.

My favorite, though, is utter perfection because it keeps me from saying words that are so trite (especially on my blog) and sound so lame when I say them. These words are horny, wanton, randy, (upon using my handy-dandy thesaurus, I also came across concupiscent and libidinous which are cool descriptive words, but I'm not sure I can even pronounce the first one).

This word usage was an evolution. At first, whenever I was horny and pathetic and begging for a play (or for him to talk dirty to me, et cetera) he'd tell me I'm so immature. That being so needy of a sexual release is very 14-year-old of me. But then, it has evolved into me being able to tell him that I'm really feeling frisky by saying I'm feeling very immature. And I like describing wanting to be a dirty whore for him in this way. I wholeheartedly admit that I have the libido of a 14-year-old. And having just turned 40 recently, being told I'm immature is actually so refreshing to me. Or being able to describe it to him, as such, is a fun way to phrase it.

(On a side note but still within the topic of me being a pathetic, whorish beast.) I love that on occasion, he lets me know that I make his cock hard, too. The fact that he's so very controlled in this area truly makes my lustful self seem even more wanton and weak. I love that power exchange of me writing him a filthy email (begging him to use my body, hurt me, choke me, gag me with his cock and hands, spank me until I cry and wetness is running down my legs) and in response I get an email somewhere in the order of “you are my whore” He is very effective at affirming me, but also keeping me in check and only rarely letting me know that what I say turns him on.

Thankfully, I can tap into my memories of my most recent trip. One memory springs into my mind when I worry (and hope) that I still do it for Mr. G. He had gone to shower and I was just playing on my iPad, relaxing. He walks in the room completely naked, hard cock at full mast, strides across the room to me and shoves his cock down my throat. I have quite a few times recalled my feelings of surprise and instant turned-on-ness. I loved that he was straight from the shower and clean. I love that he came into the room with nothing but the intention of fucking my mouth. I am so immature, that as I'm typing this, I'm moaning and my nipples are impossibly hard. I'm lucky in the fact that, yes, he can reduce me to a drooling, babbling hot mess of a girl. And sometimes, on those very lucky occasions, he shows me (or tells me) that I'm sexy to him, too.

Thursday, May 17, 2012

50 Shades of Humiliation

Let me begin this post by saying I'm in no way a book snob. I read all kinds of things, nonfiction, autobiography, chick lit, teen crappy paranormal romance (yes, I mean you, you trashy Twilight series).
And when I travel, I like really mind-free reading. Fluff, so to speak. So there I was, flying over the ocean after a truly amazing visit with my Master. I'm reading the first of the 50 Shades of Grey books. The Virgin Atlantic flight attendant says to me “how can you read that on the plane, it's so steamy!?” I look up and start stuttering. She continues, “That's the first one, right?” and then she calls across the aisle to another flight attendant and they both start chattering away about how much they loved the series. I began to DIE of embarrassment. I wasn't embarrassed because I was on a plane full of people, and now anyone who'd heard of the series realizes I'm reading a (now getting lots of media attention) BDSM book. I'm dying of humiliation because I've been busted reading a really shitty book. It's like Harlequin BDSM. I feel like what used to be my dark secret (serving my Master) has now been white-washed Danielle Steele style. I wanted to ask the flight attendants if any of them read the Anne Rice “Beauty” series. Now that's what I call erotica. Needless to say, I stopped reading it then and there and haven't gone back yet.

It makes me want so badly to write a good filthy novel that shocks and frightens all the women who drool over the Grey series. And yet, I have found myself almost completely unable to write since my return from my last trip. I had such an amazing four undiluted days with Mr. G. I got to spend so much time with him that I was buzzing from it just about the entire time. I was in such a deep state of subbie bliss that it's difficult to find the words to describe it. I've been home almost two weeks now and thankfully the deep, drugged feeling has worn off slowly. As opposed to an insane subbie high, to that gut-wrenching sub drop that takes a day or so to shake.

When I'm home and I'm vanilla me and busy and working two jobs, taking care of my family and all that reality stuff, it's surreal, thinking about my time with him. Just being in his presence, close to him and able to touch him for so many hours, so many days in a row like that. It's like remembering an acid trip (not that I'm admitting or denying drug use in my youth). I feel like when I'm with him, I radiate happy, content, subbie bliss.

And I know it's not a sustainable high. I'm thankful it always lasts as long as my trips are. I know real life involves families and jobs and stupid shit like the flu (my husband AND Mr. G are both sick right now). My life can't just be spent sucking my Master's cock and getting tucked in to sleep by Him. (what a life, though...)

But to bring this blog back on point, I was talking about humiliation. I never knew it could be sohot. Mr. G two different times this trip pulled my pants down to my knees and then just left me there for a bit. One time, he even went and sat back down on the couch, leaving me standing against the wall with my pants at my knees, shirt on, shoes and socks on, feeling like I was going to DIE! I know it's just an exercise of his power over me, that I would stand there like that with my ass and pussy hanging out for as long as he wanted. I think it was even more pronounced because I had so many clothes on and just my pants and panties pulled down. Minus on camera when he's asked me to pose or stand for him naked, he's not done a lot of flexing his humiliation muscles. It's such an intenseness, feeling exposed, embarrassed, so turned on for Him. My panties are soaking right now as I type this.

And that is why the 50 Shades book annoys me so. Her writing about it for the masses trivializes it. The reason I could read it on the plane surrounded by a couple hundred people in close proximity is because it's an M&M in comparison to a Death by Chocolate cake that is the reality of being someone's submissive.

Mr. G's touch can be like lightning. He can touch just about anywhere on my body, direct his attention to it and make me have a heart-pounding, pussy clenching orgasm. My lucky anatomy parts this trip were my lower back for one non-stimulated O and once he played with my tits and made me cum. I was so close to cumming, moaning, clenching my whole body, about to explode. And he put my hand on his hard cock, through his jeans and that pushed me over the edge. And I was begging to cum for him. Those orgasms that are achieved without pussy stimulation are so incredibly powerful. I shake and moan and am googly-eyed for hours after.

And I haven't hardly even mentioned the amazing cock worshipping. The orgasms that were had thanks to his talented finger (really, just one finger? I'm always surprised by feels like three!!). The sated feeling of physically serving him, getting his drinks or clearing away trash and plates from food. The amazingly loved and owned feeling I get from spending time with him. The hurt of being spanked, pinched, squeezed, and bit.

And now I must end this blog before the couch beneath me bursts into flames. I'm starting to see why writing about my time with my Master is so difficult. I'm such a horny slut. Now, I'm thinking a cold shower is necessary.