“Bend over,” He says.

I comply, but I’m screaming, “No” on the inside.

He starts spanking me with his hands and with a brush I hate. It seems to hurt even more since I don’t want it. He then takes the riding crop and whips the shaft across my back and ass. He pauses at one point and says while looking at my ass, “You’ve gained weight.”

I raise up to 3/4 standing and blurt out, “You’re going to bring that up NOW?” He pushes my back guiding me back down to the bed. I want to get up and storm out of the room. Instead, I start crying into the bed.

He grabs my hair and says, “Remember the punishment you’re due? Should I punish you today?”

“No!,” I say emphatically. WTF? With all I’ve been through lately, He decides NOW is a good time to punish me (for an offense that is almost two years old by the way).

He enters me from behind and says, “You’re wet.” My body is saying something completely different from my mind, and I’m mad about that.

“Get up on the bed, face down.” He spreads my ass cheeks and makes a pleasing noise. I know He is contemplating fucking me in the ass.

“I don’t want to be fucked in the ass today,” I blurt out knowing I probably just sealed my fate. But at that point I start feeling like I have nothing to lose. I don’t want it! And I want Him to know it!

“What do you want?” He asks.

“To take a nap,” I reply.

He applies lube to my ass and then insert His fingers. He fingers me for a while, then slips another finger in my pussy and starts fucking me with His fingers.

I feel the orgasm well up inside me. I try to figure out if I can squelch it…not give Him the satisfaction of making me cum. I hold on until I can’t hold on any longer. I ask to cum. I don’t want to ask, but I can’t NOT ask. Something else inside me is overriding my will, and I’m so mad. He says, “Yes, cum” and I do…three times.

He tells me to turn over. I don’t want to face Him. I don’t want to look Him in the face. He drapes himself over me. My arms are raised above my head. “Put your arms around me,” He says. The wall I’m trying to hold up is crumbling, and I’m mad at Him about that.

“Why are you crying?” He asks in between soft kisses on my cheek, “Just to make me hot?”

“I’m just one big NO right now,” I whimper.

I am holding my breath in between shallow gasps. It’s a signature trademark of me trying to hold it all in. He puts his mouth right up to my ear and whispers emphatically, “Let go. Let go.”

I fish for the words. I’d rather just run. He rises above me with a smirk on His face. “I want to rip that smirk off your face,” I say to start.

“Why? He asks. “This smirk isn’t what you think it is,” He continues.

“I want you to take me seriously,” I declare.

“And you don’t think I take you seriously,” He responds.

“I hate it when you’re right,” I add.

“Why?” He asks.

“Because I don’t want to be wrong.”

“My being right doesn’t make you wrong,” He states. I don’t know whether to feel relieved or more mad.

Whispering again in my ear, He asks, “Who do you belong to?”

“To you. To you, Sir,” I answer.

“And I will always take care of you,” He declares.

I want to believe that, and yet I have such trouble letting that sink in.

My resistance crumbles with every orgasm. I ride the edge of orgasm, begging Him to tell me when to cum for Him.

When we are done, I curl up to lay in the crook of His arm. “You may take a nap now,” He says.

I got Master a ball gag for Christmas. He’d pointed me to a web site when giving me His wish list, and said, “Anything from here.”

It was quite the experience shopping for toys for Him…knowing full well that I am the recipient of any selected toy. Picking your own torture device is quite the head trip! I told Him I didn’t think I was brave enough to purchases the most extreme toys, yet I found myself fascinated by them and wondering what they would indeed feel like.

I’d “wrapped” the gag with an undershirt I’d also purchased for Him. (He opened the undershirt gift first, then I asked Him to take the undershirt out of the box where He found the ball gag.) Interestingly, I was infinitely more comfortable shopping in the adult toy store asking, “Where are the ball gags?” than I was asking, “Where is the men’s underwear?” in the high-end department store.

He said He got hard just looking at it! He was a bit surprised this is what I got. I’ve always expressed an aversion to breath play, and early on in our relationship I shared how uncomfortable looking ball gags looked. I worried that I would panic and not be able to breathe.

That aversion has definitely been subsiding, though. I love burying my face into Master’s chest while He’s fucking me and feeling that moment of suffocation. I’ve grown more fascinated with ball gags while watching kink.com videos. I’d started fantasizing and longing for knowing what being fucked while wearing one felt like.

I went to the bathroom before He fucked me that day. As I wiped, I realized I was already sopping wet. He was hard, and I was wet…obviously we were both turned on by the thought of me being gagged!

I wondered how I would ask to cum while being gagged. Turns out, mumbling in the context of being gagged is quite understandable.

He warmed me up with some nipple play. He slapped my breasts hard, and I almost came just from that! I begged Him to let me cum, and He withheld permission momentarily. I wonder if I would have been punished for cumming just from having my breasts slapped. It took all of my energy to wait for permission.

With the gag on, I was surprised how quickly my level of surrender deepened. I felt myself open up to Him in a way and to a level I have not felt yet. I had the wherewithal to ask permission to cum as required but wave after wave of orgasm came over me. Instead of fearing being out of control, I relished the shift – where His movements and His commands controlled my body.

Interestingly enough, I have now been working out with a personal trainer for six months now. In the past couple of weeks, I noticed that I passed a milestone I didn’t even I know I’d hit, and that is I feel so much more in control of my body. I notice it when I walk, when I go to sit down and even when Master is fucking me. My strength to hold positions has greatly improved.

What’s even more interesting and curious to me is that just as I feel more in control of my body, I have a deeper experience of surrendering to Him.

He knocked on the bedroom door and startled me awake. I fumbled to figure out what time it was while He started to undress. 7:30 am. He said He’d come over on Sunday but didn’t say what time…and 7:30 am would not have been my first guess.

He entered me without any foreplay. “You’re wet,” He said. Maybe it was from going to bed horny; maybe it was just the act of watching Him undress; maybe it’s just when I see Him, my body responds.

My first orgasm was quite the gusher. It ran down His leg and went outside the cum blanket I like to lay down to ease the washing requirements that come with being a squirter. I care about those things when I’m doing the laundry afterwards, but I really don’t care about them with Him inside me.

It’s not unusual for me now to have several (upon several) orgasms. Master counts them. I cannot keep track after the first one or two…I have lost all executive function after that.

I am required to ask to cum. I have messed up before and cum in the heat of the moment without asking. Nevertheless, I have a pretty good track record in the asking department. “May i cum?” gets repeated over and over again. Hearing His deep voice whisper, “Yes,” in my ear sends me right over the edge.

There comes a point, though, where it is not just multiple orgasms but truly one immediately after another. When this happens, it is like being on a roller coaster and just as I come over the edge of one, my body picks up momentum for the next one, and the next one and the next one. The sensation is very surreal. It has happened before, but this time was different.

I felt the roller coaster start. My body was letting go. I wanted to let go of any thoughts, and let His rhythm dictate my pleasure. I felt not only the tingling in my body but the butterflies in my stomach. I both cursed and welcomed asking permission to cum. Having to ask intruded on the flow. Yet it did help keep me from wandering into this unknown frontier. I lingered on that blurry edge between His control and my control, conflicted about letting go.

Now my clit is pulsing as I write this, and I crave getting back to that edge. That blurry edge can be frightening, and yet all I can think about is how to get back to that edge…and to surrender.

I’ve been horny all weekend. I asked for permission to play on Saturday, and for permission to play again today. Here is our exchange and my report.

The urge to touch and play has been so strong this weekend!  When you granted permission, I took out the box of clothespins. These are the ones I chose today. I came/squirted without touching my pussy when I pulled one off! My pad [to keep me from washing sheets all the time] is sopping wet. I then pulled out the vibrator and came while flicking my nipples.

Thank you! I enjoyed that immensely.

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Sometimes I feel sorry for vanilla folks. Although you don’t have to be into BDSM to be adventurous in sex, I love that being in a D/s relationship takes me beyond my limits in so many ways….ways that just seem to open up my world more and more.

In the past two years with Master, I definitely feel like I’ve been blossoming – both inside and outside the bedroom. My body continues to amaze me. It started with squirting for the first time , first by myself then with Master. For several months now, I’ve had to ask permission to cum during sex, which ultimately resulted in me cumming on command. Now – more recently - all my orgasms are under His control.

When He entered my ass on Friday afternoon, though, I figured that it would be highly arousing but I didn’t expect to have an orgasm. I’ve been given the assignment to stretch my ass regularly so that I can be ready for Him to enter me at anytime. On this particular day, I’d done so right before He arrived, figuring if He chose to fuck my ass, I’d be prepared.

He entered my ass from the missionary position. This was new for me since He’s usually fucked my ass from behind. I enjoyed the face-to-face position….and all that happened next. I wrote this to Him that night reflecting on the experience…

“I know I said it when you were here, but I’ll say it again that I really enjoyed our anal sex this afternoon. While it hurt some on your initial entry, it felt good the rest of the time. I was pretty convinced I wasn’t going to cum with you in my ass. I was definitely turned on and there were a couple of thrusts were you pressed against my pussy/clit, and I thought if we could keep that up it might happen. When the orgasm started to well up to the surface, your thrusts weren’t directly stimulating my clit or pussy at that moment, so I was surprised it was happening. Then when the orgasms came one after another, I just marveled at my body. It’s such a distinct feeling of giving up control and letting it happen. I know that this is what it is all about, but with each level of surrendering, I am in awe.”

It’s been a little over a year since Master collared me. Before He locked it, I wore it unlocked in various scenarios. I wore it home during the day for a few hours and at night, then out in the day for a few hours, then all day and then 24 hours unlocked for a couple of days until He locked it. One of my biggest concerns during this period was how other people would react to my collar. I was sure that it was the equivalent of wearing a neon sign on my forehead that said, “I am a submissive.” I worried and had a lot of anxiety about what other people would say about it.

The thing is nobody ever really says anything about it. A few family members initially looked at me and asked, “What is that?” I replied, “A new necklace,” and then the conversation stopped. Every once in while someone at a store might say, “Nice necklace” or “What an unusual necklace?” but – for the most part – people keep their comments to themselves.

There are two scenarios, however, where I have received comments. One is at airport security and the other is with small children.

About a six weeks after being collared, I went on an airplane trip. I didn’t think twice about the metal on my collar, so I walked through the metal detector and set it off. I had to go through a hand wanding procedure and a pat down. I guess the good thing about that trip is I didn’t have a chance to think about it. Since I hadn’t had a chance to ask Master if He’d be willing to unlock it for travelling, I had to deal with it being locked. I realized pretty quickly that I could travel with it locked; I’d just have to plan for the time delay at security and be willing to have the hand wand and pat down.

On another trip about six months later during my TSA pat down, the security woman tried to joke but said with concern in her voice, “Did someone hogtie you?” When I told Master this afterwards, He asked, “Did you say yes?” While I was tempted to, she said it with enough seriousness that I didn’t want to add to her obvious concern. As it was, it was the most thorough pat down I’d received to date (which in a fantasy context is kind of hot!). She asked me how I got the “necklace” off, and I told her there was a key, but I didn’t have it on me. Every time I go through security, the TSA personnel in general look at me with such incredulity that the “necklace” does not come off.

So, I’ve gotten used to this as I go through security. I became concerned this past month as the new “enhanced pat downs” have been added to security procedures. Some people’s accounts of these pat downs got me worrying. First I don’t agree that the pat downs should be implemented (but that is a topic for another blog); second it is one thing to fantasize about a pat down like this but it is another to experience it. I didn’t think about this in time to ask Master if He’d be willing to unlock it (He was already travelling Himself), so I just had to deal with it. My concerns were not well-founded, though. I was subjected to the “enhanced” pat down. While it was a bit more “touchy feely” than previous pat downs, it wasn’t really any worse than before. So, as usual had a slight delay at security and went on my merry way.

I could ask Master to unlock/remove the collar before I travel; however, since I’m not always travelling with Him, it can add to the logistics. Also, I’d rather not have the collar unlocked or to not wear it at all while I travel. So, going through security and doing the pat down ends up being a small price to pay.

The second scenario where I get comments on my collar is with small children. Two, young girls of a friend of mine have seen me twice in this past year – about six months apart. The first time they saw it, the older one asked, “What’s that around your neck?” I said a necklace. She commented it was different. I told her it was a choker-type necklace.  Since she didn’t know what that was she just started to worry it was hurting me. I assured her it wasn’t hurting me and let her put her fingers underneath to show that. The younger one then said, “That doesnt look like a necklace” and later asked, “Does your necklace come off?” I just smiled and told her it was a special necklace for me and that I don’t take it off.

When I saw them six months later, they were still fascinated with it. The older one asked, “Have you been wearing that since you were born?” I just smiled. I said I’d been wearing it for a little over a year. “Does it come off?” I said it can come off but I don’t take it off. She wanted to touch it and see the clasp. She said, “I’ve never seen you without it.” Well, I don’t see them very much, and the last time I saw them was this past summer. I guess her memory of “never” seems like a long time. The younger one touched it and said something. I didn’t hear her, so I asked her to repeat it. She wouldn’t. She said never-mind. I told her it was OK to say whatever she said. So, she told me it looks like a leash! I just smiled. Out of the mouths of babes! I’m sure these are questions adults want to ask but don’t.

My fears about people noticing and commenting on my collar don’t exist anymore. I proudly wear my collar, and enjoy when people do notice it. Even if they don’t comment, I know people notice and wonder. When I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror or even as I look in the mirror one last time before heading out the door, I always smile at how the collar adds to “my look.” I feel sexy and pretty with it, and I love wearing something every day and out in public and reminds me who owns me.

Since I am now on indefinite masturbation restriction (i.e. I have to ask permission every time I want to masturbate), I found myself very horny on a Saturday. I texted Master asking for permission to masturbate. He called me back a little while later. He asked me how I was thinking of handling the pent up sexual energy before He called. I said I was considering taking a walk…something physical to discharge the energy.

He then asked me what task I’d intended to do that day and was now avoiding with thoughts of masturbation. I answered cleaning out old clothes from my closet. He gave me the assignment to clean my closet first – to standards that He would find acceptable – and then I could masturbate. Here is the report I sent to Him the next day…

~~~~~~~~~~

Well, the closet cleaning task took much longer than I’d intended since my instructions included that it had to be up to a standard you’d find acceptable. But I am happy to report that the closet has been cleared of old clothes, extra and mismatched hangers removed, dusted (ew! It was pretty bad…) and clothes boxed and gathered up to donate to charity, which I’ll do today.

I have to admit making this task a requirement before masturbating and setting the standard high was very effective. Otherwise, there would probably just be a pile of clothes on the floor that still would need to be packed up for Goodwill.

After all of this cleaning was done, I was no longer horny! I guess physical activity is a good way to discharge pent up sexual energy (although I hate admitting that to you….every time I ask to masturbate, you may say, “Take a walk!”).

I did, however, masturbate anyway….didn’t want to lose a chance to. I had a very nice orgasm with my g-spot toy in my pussy, my vibrator on my clit and playing with my nipples. I did this right before going to bed, so one orgasm was enough to put me off to Never-neverland. If you’d let me masturbate without doing the cleaning yesterday, I’m sure there would have been more orgasms to be had. The one was very satisfying, though, so I’m not complaining….and I have a very clean closet, which I’m happy about.

Thank you for my orgasm!

“You’re off restriction for the time being.” My stomach sank as if I had just dropped several feet in a free form fall.

I thanked Him because it seemed like I should be grateful for this window of freedom. I wasn’t sure why I thanked Him instead of sharing my true feeling in the moment.

Shortly after we hung up, I sent Him a text asking, “What if I don’t want to be off restriction?”

I figured He’d want an explanation as to why I wanted to stay on restriction, and I wasn’t sure I could articulate why. In that moment, I just wanted to get rid of that free form, lost sort of feeling.

I experienced this free form, lost feeling right before He put me on restriction three weeks ago. We had both been very busy, and we were each preparing for separate, week-long trips. We didn’t have a chance to connect before we left, and I not only missed Him but also started to feel lost.

He remedied this shortly after He left when in a short e-mail exchange He told me, “No orgasms until I see you next. Play as much as you like (or not)…just don’t cum.” I felt instant calm and relief from my lost feelings. I was surprised at the effect this had on me, but I really enjoyed it.

When we saw each other upon our return, He fucked me silly. I came and came and came. I came when I didn’t think I had anything more in me. I was so cum drunk, I had trouble functioning until I’d recovered the next day.

I wrote to Master privately the next day: “When I woke up this morning, I was trying to figure out how to describe how I felt. My brain seemed to be in a different place. The best word I can think of is receptive. I laid in bed wondering, ‘What do You want me to do next?’ It wasn’t an anxious, sub-frenzy ‘what’s next’ but just being patient, docile and receptive to however You direct me next.”

That same weekend, He gave me an assignment to play with myself at least every two hours for at least 10 minutes (cumming was not required; playing and arousing myself was). I was away at a weekend retreat with girlfriends, so it was a challenging assignment. I had a lot of fun fulfilling the assignment (and a few, good orgasms!). In fact when it ended and I was back on restriction, I noticed that my pussy started pulsing and tingling on the two-hour schedule. My body had learned quickly!

After a pause for a couple of days, Master told me to resume the every two hour schedule in the middle of last week. He came to my apartment during that day and watched me masturbate at one of the two hour marks and then fucked me at the next two hour mark.

As He fucked me, I asked permission as usual. He kept me focused by granting permission, not granting permission and allowing me a window where I didn’t have to ask permission. I did get mixed-up at one point where I thought I was still within the window of not having to ask permission and almost came when He reminded me, “Don’t cum.”

Then, at one point, He just said, “Cum.” I heard the command and my thought was, “I’m not there yet.” He was inside me, but I wasn’t on the edge. I didn’t think it was going to happen when my pussy erupted and squirted. I felt it come up from deep inside me, and I was stunned.

I just looked at Him and said, “Is it happening…is my body really becoming Yours?” He commanded me a second time, and I came again.

I know it happened; we both felt it, but there is a part of me that is still incredulous.

After He left, I had a couple of more two hour sessions ahead of me. At the end of the day, I was back on restriction…that was until He called last Saturday.

One might think in my state of incredulity that I’d welcome being off restriction and to feel control of my body again. Instead, I didn’t want control back. I wanted to stay on restriction. I am feeling very vulnerable, which was underscored by the sinking feeling in my stomach. On restriction, I felt safe in this vulnerable state; even the thought of being off restriction brought panic.

Master responded to my text message saying, “You’re off restriction. If you choose not to take advantage of it, that’s your decision.” The only thing I could think of is that self-restriction is like trying to spank myself with a hairbrush – it doesn’t satisfy the need. I shared this with Him and asked to be put back on restriction.

He replied with what I thought was an out-of-proportion and punitive response, which is that I’m not allowed to play at all…and no stimulation (physical, mental or visual). He said He might take me off total restriction sometime before Christmas.

Now my will has kicked in. I am complying, but I don’t want to give Him the satisfaction that this total restriction is affecting me. He saw me today and asked me how I was doing. I responded with a smug, “I’m doing fine.” He was going to fuck me, but since I was “doing fine” He didn’t. Now I regretted my flippant answer. As I write this I both regret my answer and still feel willful.

I think any Master or slave can predict how this one is going to turn out…

Master fucked me silly this afternoon.

I’ve been on orgasm restriction the last two weeks. When He put me on restriction, it was a busy week, and I had not masturbated much at all. So, it has been two or three weeks since I’ve cum.

It actually feels like longer, though. It’s been over a month since I last had sex with Master. While I’ve masturbated since then, it’s mostly the short-orgasm-before-I-fall-asleep kind of masturbation (in other words, not wholly satisfying).

When He put me on restriction, He said I could play with myself, but I couldn’t cum. In what probably falls into a textbook definition of a masochist, I did play with my vibrator and would bring myself to the edge without cumming. It probably wasn’t smart to tempt myself this way, but I love feeling His control in such a physical way even when He is not here.

He started with some caresses, then took out the riding crop. The pain felt so good. It’s interesting how I brace myself when I know a strike is coming. He struck me with a mix of soft and hard hits. One across my back made my eyes tear. In preparing for what would be His last strike, I clenched my whole body anticipating a hard swat. He then tapped me lightly. I like how He teases me.

He fucked me to many, many orgasms. He peppered permission, no permission and moments of not having to ask permission throughout. He’d pause and I thought He was done, then He’d enter me again, and I’d cum several more times.

I couldn’t stand up at the end. I’d stand up and have to sit down. I’ve tried to concentrate on some tasks since He left, and it’s useless. My body is still buzzing, and my head is floating in a haze.

I like feeling lost in this haze. It takes my mind off feeling lost.