The Missing Pieces

Confused and conflicted

2009-10-31T13:15:00.006-06:00

My sessions with WK have always been about escapism.
Our play has been about creating an empirical place that is derived from the fantasies that exist in our imaginative thoughts.
It has been about escaping the responsibilities, expectations, standards and obligations imposed on us by every entity and person in our lives from the goverment to ourselves.
In our sessions we create a nothingness that allows us to bring forth our fantasies that only exist because everything real has ceased to exist while we play.
During our play we suspend reality. We create an alternative. Reality and the alternate we created did not exist at the same space or time.
Now, with the line crossed, it does.
Now his wife in an unknowing player in our play.
Now our play is no longer separated from our reality.
I don't know how I feel about it...other than confused...guilty and yes, to the detriment of my character, excited.
WK was my playmate years before he was a married man.
That was my justification.
Although I never admitted it, not even to myself, there was a power shift when she came into his life because she become more to him as his wife than I am to him as his playmate.
I never admitted it but I respected it because I was someone's wife so I understood it was the natural order of things, it was the right order of things.
Now...now with fantasy influencing reality, shifting the power...I'm conflicted.

Lines

2009-10-28T22:34:00.000-06:00

Once the line is crossed, once you are standing on the other side of it, it can be difficult to determine how you got there.
I may not fully understand the path we took that led us to the edge of the line, but I know the moment we crossed it.
The clarity of that moment isn't soon to fade.
It began, as our play time together usually did, with him standing naked before me, the clothes he had handed to me neatly folded in a pile and set aside.
I had other clothes for him to wear; silk stockings, garter belt, pretty lace panties and a corset.
I watched as he dressed, beginning the transformation and when I pulled the strings constricting his waist to a mere 26 inches, my body reacted.
I became so focused on him I forgot anything existed outside of the walls of the room we were in.
I pulled from the closet the flouncy skirt, feminine blouse and high heeled shoes, handing them to him so I could continue to watch as the transformation progressed.
I do enjoy watching him.
It seems he never looses his shyness in dressing for me.
I applied the final touches of mascara, glossy lipstick and page boy wig with hands I barely kept steady as anticipation surged through my nerve endings making my body vibrate.
When I was finished, I made him turn for me, letting me see him as I made him, completely transformed.
That is how he gives himself to me, by letting me know his secret, by sharing it with me and having me be a part of it.
It is that we share this secret with only each other that excites me.
Once I finished my inspection, I instructed him to lift up his skirt and show me his cock tucked in the pretty panties I bought for him.
He bunched his skirt in one fist, the material being pulled upward one finger at a time until he grasped enough to pull it to his waist and then pulled the white lace panties down over his cock, letting it spring out.
He has a gorgeous cock.
I told him this and he blushed, his eyes cast down as he shyly said, "thank you".
His cock was only semi-erect, not from a lack of desire but because he had purposely taken pills to decrease his ability to get hard.
He had taken them for a week and had not been able to become erect for five days.
For five days, with our session planned, he purposely had taken pills that made him physically unable to fuck his wife.
The line had begun to blur.
I sat on the edge of the bed and told him to bring his cock to me.
The small sounds he made sent a thrill through me that pulsated in my cunt.
I love sucking his soft cock.
The feeling of it stuffed in my mouth, rolling my tongue around it, having it so pliable and easily manipulated was delicious.
As I sucked, listening to his whimpers, my cunt began to throb with need.
It was a pill that took away his erection, it would be another one that would give it back.
"You will be hard for me". I placed the pill on his tongue and gave him a glass of water for him to swallow.
I positioned myself with my ass nearly off the edge of the bed, my knees up and legs spread, my pussy exposed and ordered him to use his semi-erect cock to make me cum.
He got between my legs, his cock in his hand and began to rub it like a dildo between my pussy lips and over my clit.
It felt so incredible to have him rubbing the ache, increasing it, until my orgasm gushed to give me relief from it.
But it was a momentary relief, I craved his cock inside of me and nothing else would fully satisfy me.
I made him stand, his hands at his side, his cock peeking out beneath the hem of his skirt.
"Is your cock hard for me?"
"Yes." He said it as if it caused him pain.
"You couldn't get your cock hard all week, could you?"
"No."
"You took those pills knowing your cock would be useless, didn't you?"
"Oh...yes."
"You knew you wouldn't be able to fuck while you were taking them, didn't you?"
"Oh, gawd, yes, yes, I knew."
His voice with nearly inaudible, a child who had gotten caught doing something bad.
"Tell me."
"I took those pills knowing I wouldn't be able to fuck my wife."
There.
That is when the line evaporated.
"You want your cock in my pussy don't you?"
"Yes, please, yes."
I instructed him onto the bed, on his back, so I could tie his wrists together over his head.
I flipped up his skirt, his cock was engorged and wanted it buried in my cunt.
I straddled him, spreading my pussy over his cock and grinded.
"Do you have to think about being dressed to get hard for her?"
"Oh, gawd, yes, it's so bad." His voice was raw with the conflict he felt and my orgasm flooded over him in response.
I felt mad to have his cock in me, so maneuvered and slid down his length slowly, feeling as he filled me, it was ecstasy.
His groans were maddening.
"You think about this don't you? When you're fucking your wife?"
"Oh, please..." He thrashed, the lust of his body and conflict of his mind colliding.
"Tell me."
"Oh, yes, I think about you when I'm fucking her...you control my cock...it belongs to you."
It was an intense explosion, his cock inside of me and my cunt wrapped around him.

With no lines to restrict us, now what?

(more thoughts on this later)

I say "fork" it

2009-10-15T18:51:00.000-06:00

I was introduced to this beautiful little tool, called a tuning fork, by a friend of mine who is massage therapist. He is not only very skilled in using it as an effective massage tool but also in using it to stimulate my sexual parts.
In the case of massage, he rubbed down my shoulders and upper back first using manual manipulation and Reike energy (A Japanese technique for stress reduction and relaxation that also promotes healing by using the "life force" energy in our bodies.)

The pressure of his manipulations was too much for my knotted up and extremely sore muscles to take, even with the warmth being generated by his Reike technique through his hands.
It was a good hurt but it was a hurt that became more intense with each touch and I couldn't endure it long enough for him to work my muscles into a proper state of relaxation. A masochist I am not.

He pulled out the tuning fork, explaining the low sound frequency (the vibration) would relax my muscles and relieve the pain sensation by aligning the Chakras (energy centers) of the body.

I have had Reike massage before and understood the concept, have even benefited from the practice of it in the past and so didn't have any hesitation in allowing him to use the tuning fork.

The sensation of having the tuning fork placed on my body and spreading vibrations through my muscles to the depth of my bones was incredibly relaxing.
I felt the pain relief almost instantly as if the tuning fork was a magnetic that pulled it out of my body.

He used the tuning fork at the base of my neck, across my shoulders and at various points down my spine until I felt like a jelly fish.

As he worked my lower back and butt, with a combination of manual manipulation, Reike energy and the tuning fork, especially the tuning fork, an undeniably sexual energy was building.
Being the shy and reserved person I am [cough], I told him about the sensation and how erotic I found it.

He laughed asking, "Is this where I admit I have ulterior motives?"

Honestly, the man could have cut me in half at that point and I think I would have enjoyed it or maybe just not cared since I was simultaneously relaxed and stimulated.

My response was simple, "Do more."

He had me roll over onto my back (he had to help because I seemed to have lost all physical strength and coordination) and began at my collar bone, using a mist oil that smelled exotically of almond oil and lavender.

The feeling of his Reike warmed hands, the skilled application of pressure and the scent of the oil had me with my eyes rolled into the back of my head and my mind so void that I am not sure I would have known my name if asked at that moment.

Then he used the tuning fork on my nipples and on the sensitive areas of my tits.

Oh.My.Gawd.

There really aren't words to accurately describe the decadent feeling of having sound waves vibrate through my tits.

The energy spread from the center of my nipples like a thousand point of warm light. I have never had my tits feel so sensuous.

Although I felt detached from my body, I wanted desperately to be T.O.U.C.H.E.D.

He made his way down and after spraying a bit of mist between my legs, he used the tuning fork on my pelvic region, causing the deepest ache of sexual need I have ever experienced next to being denied an orgasm for two weeks.

He massaged my pussy, the heal of his hand at the top and pressed downward, without his fingers penetrating.

It was crazy making teasing.

I was literally humping his hand with wanting.

Then he spread my pussy open, and hit my clit with the tuning fork.
My orgasm squirting from my body as I screamed in pure ecstasy.

My clit throbbed and when he used the tuning fork again, I was screaming, grinding my teeth, thrashing and clawing into the massage table from the intensity of my orgasms.

As intense as it was, it wasn't enough, and I was wild with wanting to be fucked.

I felt like an animal in heat, no cognitive thought, just the primal need for a cock to be inside of me.

Luckily, not only did he bring his tuning fork, but he also brought his cock.

At the end of it I felt rejuvenated with energy and as if every bone in my body turned into helium infused gelatin.

I am buying one of those tuning forks.

Gone again

2009-10-09T08:15:00.003-06:00

So, Husband and I are no longer together, again.
I sound like a broken a record enough that even I am weary of hearing myself say the words.
The break-up was completely unexpected, although our relationship was teeter-tottering on a weekly basis we hadn't crossed the line into not wanting the relationship.
It came down to money.
Yup, I know exactly, to the penny the dollar amount Husband was willing to give up our relationship for, and it isn't over $5,000.
Thank goodness someone didn't kidnap me for ransom because it seems I wouldn't be worth the price to Husband.
Of course, the break-up wasn't truly about the money, that was just the catalyst, which it shouldn't have been because the money was a) jointly ours and b) being used to secure our future not on something frivolous, like say a pool table.
Sadly, I haven't shed one tear.
I am actually relieved more than I am saddened, although I am saddened because I do love Husband but, well, to quote a song that I can't remember the title too, "sometimes love just ain't enough".
I am in selfish mode at this stage of my life, having been left financially in ruin by Husband the first time, not to mention emotionally battered and having to rebuild my life from the ground up.
This stage of my life is about me.
It is about fixing the damage done by having Husband leave the first time, which I have been slowly doing for the past year and half.
Within an couple hours of Husband declaring he wanted me out of his life, I was planning all the things I could now accomplish that I am not obligated to spend time with him.
I realize that is a very sad statement, that I should have been curled up in the fetal position crying my heart out, but yeah, I've done that before and it isn't very productive.
I suppose him leaving me has become so routine that I am effected by his departure less and less each time it happens.
Of course, the true ugliness is on the horizon as we work out the conditions of the divorce especially the financial aspects in regards to dividing the 401k money, untangling financial responsibilities for mortgaged real estate and deciding the ownership of personal property. Not to mention the terms of custody of our child, although we have to this point agreed to joint custody with the provision our son lives full-time with me and Husband has unrestricted access for visitation. However, if Husband becomes disagreeable to these already established terms, I will fuck up his world. *smile*
I am a reasonable woman, right up until someone messes with my kid.
Although, I am hoping that with us having been separated for nearly 2 years, our own lives established in different households, that we can keep the ugliness to a minimum, filing the divorce paperwork ourselves as uncontested and not involving lawyers.
I have proposed a time line of no more than 6 months to Husband that we work out the divorce details, all of it in writing with no verbal negotiations, as there has been too many misunderstanding between us and only with a written record will similar misunderstandings be corrected.
If I could wave a magic wand and have it be done and over with, I would swinging my arm like I was aiming for the bare backside of a strung up submissive.
Unfortunately, disconnecting two lives, as much as they can be disconnect when a child is involved, that have been connected for nearly two decades takes time.

Meanwhile, I will be continuing to focus on improving my life.
I am three weeks into the first course of my undergraduate studies.
One of the reaons I haven't been posting here recently very often, although I do have several semi-written posts I plan to finish this week-end.
I am still waiting for previous college transcripts, that were written about the time of the Dead Sea Scrolls, to be received so I will know my full curriculum, as well as an estimated time for graduation.
Although the time I need to study does cramp my schedule up a bit, I am enjoying being a college student again as I do love to learn.
There is a certain pride that comes from working toward a goal, accomplishing the small steps toward it and doing it even though the odds are not in your favor.
Or maybe the accomplishment is all the more to be savored for that reason.
I may not graduate until I'm 109 but I WILL graduate and then they can bury me with a smug smile on my face.

Details

2009-09-30T21:36:00.000-06:00

WK has taken to calling me Monk in reference to the television character played by Tony Shalhoub, who does an amazing job portraying the phobic, obsessive-compulsive, dysfunctional yet amazingly perceptive detective.
The nickname isn't in reference to the phobic, obsessive-compulsive, dysfunctional characteristics, at least I'm fairly certain, but to the character's ability to notice and remember details that are often over-looked by others.
Of course, if you ask me where my house and car keys are at during any given moment I will have to spend 20 minutes locating them but I remember every piece of jewelry, in detail, that WK wears on a daily basis even though he removes all but his wedding ring before we play so I rarely have seen him actually wearing it.
Noticing the details about people, situations, locations, environments, objects is something I do naturally without purposeful thought.
Let me tell you it makes watching a movie without continuity annoying because I notice the inconsistencies from one frame to another.
WK wondered to me if people would feel comfortable in my presence if they knew all that I observed about them.
It was an interesting question; do people want their details to be noticed?
People communicate without knowing they are doing so by their details; the way they stand with one hip slightly jaunted out when they are relaxed but stand with leveled hips and locked knees when they are tense, the way they twirl the stands of their hair tight when they are nervous but let it slip lazily through their fingers when they are relaxed or the way they bite the inside of their mouths at the bottom of the front of their teeth when they are thoughtful but drag their teeth over their lower lip when they are sexually excited.
There is history in people's details; the fade line around a significant finger from an often worn ring, the scar that leaves a jagged line mid-way across the right thigh and the slightly bent pinky finger on the left hand that never set correctly from being broken.
It is the details that make people unique; the strawberry colored birth mark that resembles the petals of a blooming flower just along the pubic line, the freckle that provocatively peeks out of cleavage, and the slightly crooked front tooth that makes a smile endearing.
It isn't just about physical details either; it is about favorites such as foods, music, colors, movies, as well as birth dates, style, habits, personal history, moods, speech patterns, interests, causes, individual politics, religious beliefs, thought processes and idiosyncrasies.
I have made people nervous, anxious even, in noticing their details, especially the lesser noticeable details because in this world where people mingle together noticing so little about each other, my perceptions have been misinterpreted as obsessive and Annie Wilkes-like.
On the other hand, as is the case with WK, my Monkish perceptions of him give validation to his ego that he is interesting enough and important enough for me to make the effort in knowing so much about him.
Although there are occassions when I unbalance him with my knowledge, he finds it flattering that he is a subject of my observation.
Of course, that could be because when I tie him down it isn't with the purpose of subjecting him to physcial torture like breaking his ankles with a sledgehammer...it's little details like that that make all the difference.

Taking things into consideration

2009-09-28T10:15:00.007-06:00

A friend and I were sitting on my porch, having a couple drinks and discussing life.
She is married, in a female led marriage with a submissive man and is also involved in a lesbian relationship outside her marriage with her husband's knowledge.
You'll notice I said knowledge, not permission.
As we were discussing our lives I commented that I wish I had a domestic submissive who had a cleaning OCD and no interest in a sexual arrangement because my house was in need of cleaning but I was too exhausted to clean it and had no interest to be sexually involved with an additional person.
My friend didn't understand what domestic service and being sexually involved had to do with each other, so I shared my experience with her that every submissive I have encountered has had expectations of exchanging their services for the fulfillment of sexual fantasies or as part of a sexual arrangement, including Husband.
In my experience there is no such creature as a submissive, domestic or otherwise, that is content in performing service for a Mistress simply because it lessens the burden on the Mistress.
The caveat is there is always a sexual component to the submissive's expectations; dress him in a frilly maid's outfit with high heels, put him in a diaper and humiliate him, make him strip and wear only a cock ring...the expectations are endless and maybe it is selfish of me but I rather clean my house than expel my energy to fulfill a fantasy of a "submissive" who is only interested in serving as a means to an end in satisfying his sexual agenda.
Ironically, if I had a submissive who would serve me selflessly, their only intent to ease my burden however they could, their selflessness would have me wanting to reward them.
It is like with an animal pet, when they are selfishly devoted to you, you can't help but adore them.
After my friend listened patiently she made an observation, "You're going about it wrong."
As she is a friend, and a dominant woman who has a relationship of which I am envious, the comment didn't ruffle my feathers but peaked my interest in knowing what she meant by "going about it wrong", so I asked exactly that, "what do you mean going about it wrong?".
"You're asking what they want other than to perform service for you and it doesn't matter if they want something else, that's their problem to solve, not yours."
I understand the concept, I really do, but maybe it is because I am a switch at heart or still struggling with traditional concepts of compromise that I struggle to put the concept into practice, more so with Husband than with anyone but the struggle is there with everyone.
Adults have responsibilities of work schedules, parenting, taking care of their parents, relationships with other people, paying the bills, maintaining a household and a thousand other things, things I believe have to be taken into consideration...she stopped me..."you can't be that considerate, if they're with you, they're there to serve you, that should be the your only consideration".
I sighed.
I am still sighing.
I not that I don't think she is right, because she is right, I know that but what I don't know is if I am capable of doing a D/s relationship "right".

He's whining, and now I am

2009-09-24T21:38:00.001-06:00

If Husband and I lived in the same house, perhaps our relationships would be more easily constructed into the D/s relationship both of us have agreed we want.
Unfortunately, we live in separate residences and much of our lives are lived separately because of it.
It is difficult to incorporate D/s when the time we spend together is limited not to mention the time we are able to spend alone is even more limited.
Hell it is difficult to find the time to have vanilla sex let alone to find the time for a scene.
Currently, there is no longer a D/s aspect to our relationship and without it Husband has become moody, edgy and insecure, complaining weekly about how he feels I don't express a sexual desire for him or even a general interest in him.
It is exhausting as every week I have made an effort to mollify his insecurities, followed by his moodiness with discussions and implementing plans that address his concerns.
We discussed my schedule and time restraints between my responsibilities as a mother, my job and the time needed for my studies.
We discussed his need to remain flexible if our plans didn't happen for a valid reason.
It only took two days after having sex for him to withdraw into his insecurities and into accusing me of losing interest in him.
He constantly has a complaint regarding our sex life ranging from the frequency we have sex to the quality of the sex we have.
It seems no matter the effort I make to address his complaints, he still complains and it results in me feeling hopeless that he will ever be content with our sex life or with me as his sex partner.
He seems incapable of understanding how his complaints negatively effect me and my sexual desire for him even though I have discussed the issue with him nearly every week for the past several weeks.
There is nothing sexy about a man who is always complaining and rarely seems grateful for the relationship he has or the person with whom he is the relationship.
I've considered I am just lacking in the skills or possibly the motivation required to be dominant in this relationship.
It seems he is the passive-dominant, his moods dictating the course of our relationship not to mention effecting my emotional status, and that doesn't make me happy.
The problem is with my time and energy focused on improving my life, the one that exists separate from Husband, I simply don't have a reserve to focus on finding a viable solution.
Sadly, my attitude can be summed up in saying, "He left once and I did fine, let him leave again."
I know, it is a piss poor attitude and one I need to change if I am going to stay in a relationship with Husband, but at the moment that is how I feel.
I want a relationship that enhances my life and selfishly I want it with a person who supports my becoming the woman I am trying to be and to become, not throws me back into my previous co-dependent behaviors of being the secondary partner in a patriarchal marriage.

An endorsement

2009-09-21T18:28:00.000-06:00

I am so happy to have sound again on my computer!
One of the reasons I am so very glad to have my "ears" back is because I can again listen to Axe's Mascocast which I immensely enjoy.
If you are into kink of any kind you NEED to check out this podcast not only because Axe has one of those sexy voices that could read the phone book and make thighs quiver, but because the interviews are entertaining, the topics are interesting and the interviewees are informative.
I rarely endorse anything or anyone on this blog, my exceptions being Male Submission Art and now Mascocast because in all honesty these two projects are worth endorsing.
I am going to take it one step further in suggesting that if you listen to Mascocast and enjoy it, then make a donation.
I am not suggesting a huge donation, I understand most people aren't philantropist, but I am suggesting you skip your daily $7.50 latte mocha at Starbucks and instead donate it to Mascocast to keep it viable.
[Sidenote: Jay Leno couldn't possibly do it better than Axe does it, certainly never with the same sex appeal. ;) ]

Honesty = respect

2009-09-17T22:12:00.000-06:00

WL admitted he identifies as a switch, the sentence ending in, "obviously" since I had established in a previous conversation with him that submissive was not a term that applied to him in any true definition of the word.
Actually, it wasn't obvious because he spent a great deal of time and energy trying to present himself as a submissive, trying to convince me that was what/who he was instead of being straight forward that his nature was not naturally submissive.
I suspected very early on he was being disingenuous with me and like all people who are not authentic, his true self filtered through his facade, like a painting that is hidden by another, the outer paint cracking and flaking off little by little showing what is underneath, without even realizing he was doing it.
He is still being disingenuous with me in using the term switch because he isn't submissive he is just a masochist.
He's a perfect example of the manipulating Alpha men in sheep's clothing that I wrote about
in this post.
His not so hidden agenda was to manipulate my dominant nature so that he could be sexually gratified by a kinky experience of his masochist design.
I may be a switch but my dominant tendencies, or perhaps my sense of self-preservation are strong enough that manipulation doesn't work well with me so his plan was a failure.
I have never understood why Alpha men who want to be sexually dominated pursue Dominant women to begin with; it seems counter intuitive to seek out a person that by definition most likely won't allow themselves to be manipulated when there are plenty of willing submissives who thrive on being the instrument for another person's sexual gratification.
Perhaps, in WL's case, beating the balls of a Dom black and blue is so against the nature of a submissive that finding a submissive to fulfill his needs is extremely difficult, if not impossible. Not to mention that physically abusing a Dom is not usually asked of a submissive so experience is going to be minimal in that area, so perhaps not fully gratifying.
Although it seems to me that training a submissive to perform specific sexual acts, including physical abuse, to gratify a Dom would be easier than trying to trick another Dominant into being the bottom in a scene even though she would be performing as a Top.
Wow, is your heading spinning because mine sure is and at a high velocity!
I prefer anyone, be them male, female, transgender, submissive, dominant, sadist, masochist, switch, pain slut...whatever...to be honest about their motives because being contriving only serves to complicate matters and create distrust.
In WL's case if he had come to me as the Alpha he is and stated, "I want to experience this" and then gave me the definition of "this" as having his cock and balls beaten with implements such as wooden spoons, crop whips, wooden rods, paddles and even a rolling pin, I would have responded by telling him CBT isn't my usual kink but I wouldn't mind giving it a try to find out my the depth or shallowness of my interest in it.
Basically, we could have worked something out that was beneficial to us both especially as I am also interested in new experiences.
As it is, WL and I are likely never to play together because I don't play with people who I do not trust, be it because I caught them flat out in a lie or because they tried to manipulate me by omitting the full truth about themselves and their motives.
I don't reward dishonesty on any level with my attention.
To put it simply, I am worth the respect that comes with honesty and unfortunately for WL he didn't respect me to tell me the truth.
I have been honest in telling him this fact and immediately he apologized for not being "honoring" and although I accepted his apology it doesn't change that I have lost interest in him for his failed attempts.
I expect, actually demand is more accurate, honesty because not only do I give it but in receiving it I am allowed to make decisions that are in my best interest.
It is true that I have declined to play with honest because of their honesty, it isn't a kitchen pass, but I have respected those people for their respecting me and have in turn developed relationships with them that have been beneficial in ways other than sexually.
It is because the truth is rarely fully present at the beginning that I wait to become involved with a person, I wait to define the relationship itself and I wait for the truth to be known.
It is an effective method as I have discovered girlfriends/wives who were not mentioned, risky sexual behaviors that were practiced after being denounced and negative animas that were glossed over with well rehearsed personas.
After encounters with people like WL I am left wondering if there are people out there, especially in the kink community, who are respectful enough to be honest.

The infliction of my mood

2009-09-14T16:03:00.002-06:00

I'm cranky.
Actually, I am beyond cranky.
I am to that point where it would be very satisfying to throw breakable things, like glass or pottery, watching and hearing them smash against a hard surface.
Even more satisfying would be to string up a male submissive, shirtless, jeans dangling precariously about narrow hips, arms stretched out and head hanging forward, to lash taunt skin over contours of muscles with a heavy whip.
I want to watch as the blood trickles down, being spread in delicate patterns among freckles by the tails of the whip, angry lashes opening up as a sacrifice to my mood.
I want to hear the grating of clenched teeth, his mouth will fill with enamel sawdust before he asks me to stop, his grunts and swallowed screams the reflexive protests of his body, the shame of his mind.
I want to watch as sweat mingles, droplets following the contoured path from his shoulders down his back like the condensation of heat sliding down a glass pane, the clearness being clouded with red, sweat and blood soaking into the seams of his jeans.
The rhythm of the strikes altered with a pause, muscles contracting in response to the change, waiting, waiting for the moment the strikes will challenge their endurance once more, twitching with tension, heart never slowing in pumping blood, fight or flight still the innate reaction.
It is the sound of the air scattering from the wielding of the whip, the leather rearranging it, making it stagger from the intrusion of the object that is the warning, too short of a warning, that pain will be inflicted again.
Body flushed with blood brought to the surface, skin heated with lashing pain of stiffened leather, exhaustion brought on by the physical endurance and tears releasing silently the agony of wanting to please.
I want that person today, that person who will willingly submit to what my mood inflicts upon them, who wants to absorb into their physical being the punishment that will satisfy and ultimately alter my mood, a human object that will not break.

Sleep, glorious sleep

2009-09-09T13:42:00.001-06:00

I love to watch men do physical labor.
I know, that ranks me in the category of Neanderthal, but hey, can I help it that a guy without his shirt on that has muscles twitching beneath skin glistening from laborious sweat is sexy?
I had two of them helping me excavate my side yard of weeds that had grown to the height of trees in the mountainous mounds of dirt that had been dumped there from previous landscaping projects.
The work was tedious; dig, shovel, load, shovel, unload, dig, shovel, load, shovel, unload but I was happily distracted by watching the male bodies doing the process as I worked beside them.
Although, I must admit I felt the furthest from sexy covered in sweat, dusty grime and wearing filthy sweats as one can feel but still I wasn't immune to their sex appeal.
Maybe I can thank my Neanderthal relatives for the gene that switches on my libido from the sight of flexing muscles, the faint smell of hard worked sweat and the pure masculinity of strength required for such physical work even while I am feeling as unattractive as a over-heated pig wallowing in a mud bath?
At the end of a the day I could barely move being sun burnt and unable to flex out the soreness of my exhausted muscles and joints.
Oddly, because of my own weak condition, I found the stamina of the men, who labored longer hours than myself and were still capable of continuing into the night, even more appealing.
It was a strange sensation to be thoroughly physical exhausted but sexually stimulated because it left my sexually turned on mind trapped in a body incapable of being responsive.
Husband stayed, we showered together and plopped our bodies into bed with every intention of going to sleep the second the room went dark.
My body felt simultaneously numb and aching from the physical overexertion of the day.
My mind refused to quiet, flashing images captured throughout the day of straining arms tightening into definition, glistening skin stretching across flat plains of stomachs and taunt muscles contracting across backs exposed to the sun.
It was a directive; make me cum.
Husband protested, he was tired, worn out, it was an expected protest.
I was as relentless with him as my mind was with me.
I spread my legs, felt the muscles protest at the movement and felt ache pulsate in the depth of me, unsure if it could be brought to the surface but decidedly wanting it be brought there.
My instructions were precise, I had no interest in foreplay, only in having the ache relieved.
It took only minutes with his tongue following my instructions for me to achieve orgasm.
It was a lazy orgasm, a teasing prelude, making my need more intense.
His mouth continued to manipulate my pussy until I was desperate for penetration.
I needed, badly, to have his cock inside of me.
At first our fucking was slow, our bodies void of energy but slowly we became rejuvenated with sexual energy until our fucking was almost violent.
He pounded my cervix, finally reaching the depth of me where the need was the most intense and the orgasm that followed left me dizzy.
My mind and body were finally in agreement and I feel asleep with his cock inside of me, as he feel asleep sheathed by my cunt.
It was a glorious way to sleep.

Waiting to make a life change...

2009-09-07T14:25:00.000-06:00

In an effort to pursue my inalienable right to happiness given to me not by a God but by the drafters of the Constitution of the United States, who gave me only the right to pursue happiness, not possess it, I have made a life altering decision.
Perphaps I am restless in my current status of life because I am a woman of a certain age and it is time I enter into a stage of restlessness, a stage of reinvention, a term I much prefer to the one of "mid-life crisis".
I am not in crisis but in reflection.
I am very fortunate in my life and I do not disregard what I have been given, what I have earned, what I have created and what I have accomplished as I begin to reinvent my life as I am using all that is currently mine, that currently is me, as a foundation of my pursuits.
I have made the decision to continue my education to expand the breadth of vocational opportunities available to me.
Simply, I am earning an income that limits me and I do not want to live with those limitations any longer.
I am capable as well as deserving of more and although I live within the principles of moderation, I am determined to increase my
I have applied for and been awarded Federal grant money to offset the amount of debt I will be incurring, the overwhelming debt, in the continuation of my education.
It took two days for me to sign my application for my student loan because it has only been about 5 years since I paid off my previous student loans.
Now I wait to find out if I have been approved or rejected.
Waiting for obscure people who hold the determing power over my future plans, sucks.

The Key to Manipulation

2009-09-01T21:46:00.003-06:00

WL has been quite manipulative and I am now discouraged about him being a third in a scene with Husband and me.
When we were all at the bar enjoying ourselves WL gave me the key to his chastity device with the understanding he would wear the device for a specific time period, according to my instructions, in anticipation of a planned play date with Husband and me.
Well, WL took it upon himself to put on his chastity device with the plastic locks that have a sequenced security number without my instruction.
He IM'd me the security number and when I did not respond, as I hadn't been on my IM for a couple of days nor in contact with him, he sent me a text telling me he was caged and had sent me the security number.
I was annoyed.
I had not given him instruction to wear the chastity devise so if he chose to do so, that was his for his own gratification and I am not interested in being the "Mistress" of his self-gratification.
So, I ignored his communications as I had no interest in giving him the satisfaction of my participation.
When we did speak, days later, he suggested he drive to my house, while my son was home and while Husband was not with me, for me to remove the plastic locks and lock him in with the metal padlock.
It was a mistake on his part to make the suggestion, a big mistake.
Our agreement was that I held the key to his chastity device only for the arrangement of all three of us playing and I was explicitly clear that when my son was home there was absolutely no in-person contact.
As I perceive it WL was out right ignoring the boundaries I set to achieve his agenda of self-gratification once more and when I called him on not adhering to the boundaries he explained himself with innocent intentions.
Yeah, so, let me see if I have this straight; he's been caged for several days, without release, but really all that he wanted was for me to give him the key so he could lock himself back into the chastity device in anticipation for a play date that wasn't even planned yet?
How silly of me to think he might be trying to manipulate a situation in which I would be alone with him and sexual activity might occur between us as I would be handling his cock, his caged for several days without release cock, to remove and then replace the cage.
Nah, he's male, he would never have the hidden agenda of wanting to initiate sex even when it disregarded hard boundaries, especially after having his cock caged for several days.
Oh, wait, didn't I have that "naive as a newborn" tattoo removed off my ass?
Additionally, he aggressively lobbied that since he was already caged up, that we should plan a play date for this week and he is only available one day out of the week so let's do it then.
And oh, he'll bring along his toy box with toy A, B and C in it for me to use on him, oh yeah, if that is something I want to do and he's certain I would enjoy using toy A, B and C, so hey, why not just plan on using them?
So, again, let me see if I understand; he caged himself up without instructions or frankly any interest from me but now Husband and I were to arrange our schedules, including arranging for childcare for our son during a week day, around his availability AND conduct the scene accordingly to include all his favorite toys?
Fuck.That.
The arrangement that was discussed and agreed upon was simple; I would arrange the scene for a time and place that was convenient and comfortable according to my criteria, I would arrange the activities of the scene according to my wants and desires, taking into consideration their wants/desires only if I felt inclined but certainly had no obligation to do so and all implements, toys and devices would be of my choosing.
I called Husband, advised him I would be giving him the key to return to WL and that I was no longer interested in scening with WL because I felt he was being manipulative and disrespecting the boundaries to which we agreed.
I had an IM conversation advising WL that Husband would be returning his key and he was to text him to arrange a time and place to receive it.
I will not be manipulated into circumstances that violate my boundaries, period.
If WL wants to try again, without the attempt to manipulate me, I may be willing to give him a second chance but my feeling is he describes himself as submissive as a way of fulfilling his agenda and that he truly is just a manipulator.

Second thoughts

2009-08-28T14:59:00.002-06:00

[con't from "One the count of three..." ]

I was, up until a few nights ago, very excited about the prospect of having two submissive men wearing chastity devices for days (possibly a week) before a scene, both interested in "forced" bi-sexuality and at my disposal for a scene lasting several hours to a couple days.
What has me having second thoughts is Husband's jealousy.
We had met with friends, including WL, at a bar in town for drinks.
It was a night of sexual frivolity enhanced by the consumption of significant quantities of alcohol.
There was unabashed flirting among both genders and the group played musical chairs to sit next to whoever caught their fancy at the moment in wanting to rub body parts together.
Money for the next round of drinks was collected in the bras of the women as we all took our urn to open our shirts just enough to allow bills to be slipped down across our nipples.
Salt was being licked from wrists, throats and even thighs as shots of alcohol were being drank from glasses situated in cleavage.
Sexual innuendos, kinky jokes and even personal pornographic pictures stored on cell phones were being passed around the table like salt and pepper shakers at supper.
Toward the end of the evening I was pulled aside, literally pulled with a grasp on my shirt, my hand yanked from Husband's grasp by Cheider* as I was walking back into the bar from getting air on the patio.
Husband went back into the bar angry, if at me or Cheider or both of us I couldn't be certain but I knew that as soon as I had spoken to Cheider I would be dealing with Husband's anger.
Cheider asked if he could kiss me.
I explained to him that Husband and I were in a committed relationship and as we are not poly nor have an open arrangement it would be inappropriate for me to accept his kiss.
He understood, we hugged and returned inside and almost immediately the atmosphere of our group became tense with Husband's anger and Cheider's pouting at the table.
Thankfully, it was last call and we disbanded.
As it happened we all, with the exception of WL, ended up going to the same Denny's without that being the plan.
Husband, our friend and I were already seated when Cheider came behind me, wrapped his hand in my hair and forcibly yanked it, sending a pain through my neck, as he passed to their table.
I was annoyed but knew it was not the time nor the place to discuss with Cheider the inappropriateness of his action, so I ignored him and tried to continue the conversation he interrupted.
Husband's reaction was to throw a temper tantrum saying he was going home.
I held my temper and requested in a quieted tone for him to go outside with me to talk.
I spoke with Husband who explained in a furious tone that Cheider disrespected him by yanking me away at the bar, talking to me without him being present and "hitting on" me knowing that we were together. He was also irate at the manner in which Cheider pulled my hair in the restaurant.
Admittedly, Cheider could have handled wanting to speak with me alone in a more tactful manner but considering a) he was plastered drunk and b) he is only 24 I had forgiven him for the oversight and gave him credit for having the respect to ASK permission to kiss me, not just doing it.
However, I agreed with Husband that Cheider had crossed a line with the hair pulling and explained I would be having a SOBER conversation with him at another time.
This did not satisfy Husband.
He ranted at me, jealously insinuated I had been dishonest with him about not having sex with not only Cheider but the entire group and in general behaved like a jackass.
It took two days of conversations with Husband before he relented in being angry.
His jealous reaction of a 24 year old boy who I am not sexually attracted to in the least caused me to question if Husband is emotionally capable of scening with me and a third.
What if I had more orgasms with WL (or whoever) than with Husband during the scene?
What if I vocalized my pleasure more with WL than with Husband during the scene?
What if my attention was focused on WL a fraction of second longer than on Husband?
How could I enjoy a scene in which I was constantly measuring in an effort to contain Husband's jealousy?
These were all questions I confronted Husband with when I expressed to him I was having second thoughts about scening with WL.
His answer was, "It's different".
For some inexplicable reason, I am not convinced

*As usual I have changed the name for the protection of his identity, although, if you were there that night, you know who I am writing about.

On the count of three...

2009-08-26T20:14:00.000-06:00

It was decided that Husband and I would invite a third person to scene with us.
It was not a decision that was made lightly on my part because unlike Husband who tends to have a narrow view of consequences, thinking only about the sexual gratification to be had, I was concerned about the negative possibilities of scening with a third person.
Although I am a forgiving person, I am still a person who is healing emotionally from years of Husband's infidelities during our marriage and the residual effects his promiscuity has had on my self-esteem.
Intellectually I understand that the relationship we are now constructing is fundamentally different than the marriage we had previously that failed so miserably.
I understand that previously our marriage was structured after the traditional model of Husband and Wife, following the predisposition of roles that came with that and that now we are reconstructing our relationship with a more suitable model, one that is based on the truths of our natures, he as a submissive male and myself as a dominant female.
In understanding and embracing the D/s structure of our relationship, I accepted Husband's proposal of introducing a third into our sexual relationship only according to my terms.
Those terms would be set for my emotional protection because although I have an intellectual understanding of the difference between the past and the present, I still struggle with the sabotage on my self-esteem that is indicative of infidelity.
If it seems I am dishing out hypocrisy in saying that I struggle emotionally from the thought of Husband engaging in sex, even while I participate, with another woman than perhaps I should explain the history that brought me to be hypocritical.
Husband's first infidelity occurred two years into our marriage, while I was struggling with the responsibilities of being a new mother and at a time Husband proclaimed he did not find me sexually attractive because I had gained a significant amount of weight during my pregnancy.
It was emotionally devastating to be unwanted by the man I had loved, at that time, for 7 years.
There were more infidelities and the devastation of my self-worth was so complete that I become emotionally barren.
My sexuality shriveled like a grape in the unrelenting sun and my self-esteem was a battered ship so severally damaged it simply could do nothing but be led by the tide to crash into rocks and be sodden by crushing waves.
It was a very dark time for me and one that, although I have emerged from it, still effects me when I think about the events that took place and the person I was at that time.
I will never again allow myself to be in similar circumstances nor will I allow the person I am to be obliterated ever again.
As with any person who experiences an event that so profoundly impacts their life, I am susceptible to being triggered psychologically by similarities to it that exist in the present.
Hence, I still struggle with the thought of Husband having sexual relations with another woman.
My reaction is purely emotional and as the circumstances are not as they were then, my reaction is illogical, although I do consider them reasonable considering the psychological damage I endured.
However, I have accepted the circumstances are different, I am different and so is Husband.
There have been years of personal growth for us both, including sexual maturity and I am willing to work through the issues that haunt me from the past as not to miss future experiences.
So, the terms were set by me and agreed upon by Husband, as now my position in our relationship is to dictate our sexual experiences and in doing so I have created a safety net I need to move forward.
The third is to be male.
No exceptions.
I am to decide who the third will be that we will include allowing for Husband to approve or disapprove although truthfully he would only disapprove if the person I chose was exceptionally offensive to him, as his standards are not as high as mine.
I will arrange the scene and will be the Dominant that leads it.
The scene is to be centered around my fantasies, not the fantasies of Husband, although I would take into consideration his, as well as the third's, fantasies and if they suited me to include them then I would but solely at my discretion.
The first candidate I have invited is WL.
Although he is a masochist who enjoys CBT he is also exceptionally willing to expand his kink into forced bi-sexuality especially after being locked in a chastity device for several days to a week.
One of my fantasies, which I have not yet experienced, is to have two submissive males servicing each other at my direction, especially cock sucking.
There is something so incredibly powerful about having a straight male suck cock because he is doing it to please me.
WL has accepted the invitation and we have for the past couple of weeks been trying to plan a scene a time to get together but it has been difficult with our schedules and even when plans have been made they are disappointly cancelled for one reason or another.
With the passing of time, other events have occurred and I am having second thoughts...

[to be continued]

A few reasons I love my digital camera

2009-08-19T20:12:00.007-06:00

[I saved this post for a few days trying to get the text to work with the pictures but couldn't seem to get the format to work and ended up with the hack job you will see below. Obviously I am not a technology wizard.]

I love owning a digital camera. It was one of the best purchases I have ever made.
It provides me with so much blackmail...I mean proof.
When my good friend, who has a definite liking for Jello shooters - and if you're from a place other than Utah, those are shots of vodka mixed with Jello and they are dangerous because they don't taste like alcohol but like a sweet treat - made the statement, "I didn't strip at your party, I just changed my shirt because it was wet", I can pull out the photo to correct her memory.
Enter into evidence exhibit A:
Now I ask you, the jury, does this look as if she is removing a wet shirt?
I know that when I remove a shirt I usually do it by removing it over my head and usually if I am wearing a bra, well, that has to be removed separately and in a different manner but maybe I am odd and most people do it this way?
Of course, I'm not complaining, however she wants to remove a wet shirt is just fine with me, especially if I have my digital camera handy.

I also love having a digital camera because it allows me to share with others the creativity of my friends.
One of my friends made a dick shaped Jello shooter by using a phallus shaped cake pan, putting plastic in it to create wrinkles on the dick, pouring Jello and vodka into it and then letting it gel up. Then it is flipped on a smooth surface, in this case a plastic serving platter to be served.
It was great fun to share the "cock shot" with guests, each of us at an opposite end, slurping up the Jello and occasionally, depending on the friend, meeting in the middle to share our edible cock, mouth to mouth, tongue to tongue.
Here is a picture of the cock shot being made:
Also, because she is a considerate friend and didn't want to leave the straight boys out of the fun, made a pair of boobs complete with cherries in the middle of each one, for me to share.

Being bisexual has so many advantages.

Another reason I adore my digital camera is for its documenting capabilities.
Of course, by documenting I mean I can take picture of special events, such as Husband's recently shaved cock caged up for the first time in a CB2000.

It has been such erotic fun playing with the chastity device that viewing the picture of Husband's cock locked away in it makes me wet.

I also love my digital camera for very G-rated reasons, such as taking photos of fun things like this truck I came across during a local car show.
Ya gotta love a truck that can wink at you!

Cock control, and I don't mean a rooster on a leash

2009-08-13T23:05:00.001-06:00

WK was at the hotel preparing for our scene and sent me a couple of teaser pictures via his cell phone to mine.
I love technology.
These teasers were definitely efficacious, shall we say, in motivating me to leave work to play with him sooner rather than later.
I was wet before I left the office.
What can't be seen in the pictures but that I was delighted to find, was that WK was also wearing the silver cock ring I bought for him. If it is possible to have a fetish for silver, well then I do.
I love the look of it, especially around a cock, the feel of it, especially when my hands are wrapped around it as it is wrapped around a cock and the smoothness of it, especially when my tongue is licking it as it constricts a cock.
It is the perfect accessory.
I adore WK's body, which I refer to as his "girlish figure" because it is possible to cinch in his already trim waist to a mere 24 inches.
The curves this creates, the narrowing of his waist accentuating his hips, is delicious as it combines his masculinity with femininity and for a bi-sexual woman such as myself, that is the best of both worlds.
The striped thigh high stockings, silky to the touch were a contradiction to contour of the hard muscles that flexed beneath the material as I slid my hand across them.
I love the eroticism that overcomes me when I dress WK in a pinstriped skirt just so I can slide my hand up his thigh and caress his cock and balls while still encased in lace panties.
It is the duality of the masculine and feminine, combined in feminizing him, that excites me.
It is the transformation from the confident Alpha male into the trusting feminized slut willing to do almost anything to please me that thrills me.
I am responsible for the transformation, from dressing him in women's clothing, giving him feminine curves and creating a separate sexuality for him that he only shares with me and in that responsibility there is power.
He becomes mine in the transformation.
I treat him like a girl slut with a cock.
I write my name in scrawling black on his cock, my cock and he tells me I control it, control when it gets hard and when it gets used.
He wants me to control it.
He begs for me to control it.
I use pills to keep it hard and injections to keep it unusably soft.
I had him make me a mold of his erect cock so that I could use it to fuck his tight ass, an ass he willingly offers to me no matter what object I want to insert into it, but I use it in other ways too.
I make him suck it, a replica of his own cock, as I call him a cock-sucker and I know it makes his real cock surge with hardness in the pretty lace panties he is wearing.
I stroke his throat as I press the replica of his own cock down his throat, the make-up I applied smearing around his eyes from the tears caused by his gagging.
I tell him what a good little slut he is to take his own cock into his mouth, to be trained on it and how he will suck another boy's cock for me.
He moans how he wants to do that for me, how he wants to be a good cock-sucker for me, how he wants to perform for me as I have trained him to perform; prettily dressed and willing to be used however I want him to be used for my enjoyment.
I grab his cock, so engorged, and smile at him, telling him how I like that he gets hard thinking about sucking cock for me.
His head falls back, his eyes rolling into his head as he groans at my touch, pressing his hips forward to give me more access.
I lubricate the long, thin rubber tube well before I begin to slowly and carefully insert it, snaking it down his urethra, watching as it travels, protruding like a throbbing vein.
Nearly breathless he chants, "oh gawd" as the tube goes deeper into him.
I have to hold the tube in place or it will slither out as he strokes his cock for me, knowing he will be taking the open end of the tube into his mouth, to drink his own cum.
His conflict in wanting to jack off into his own mouth while I watch excites me because I know he does these things that conflict him to please me.
He opens his mouth when it is time to drink his cum from the tube and keeps it greedily open even though his face contorts with the force of his orgasm.
After, but while the tube is still inserted in him, while my name is still written on his cock, while I still control his him, I kiss him and he thanks me for making him do bad things.

Ultimate tease and denial

2009-08-11T12:59:00.000-06:00

I especially enjoy the sensitivity of newly shaved skin especially the skin of my womanly parts.
I was tempted to do the shaving myself but decided it would much more enjoyable to have Husband do it for me it.
He drew me a bath, sprinkled in the bath salts and as I sat in the whirlpool tub he went off to put on his chastity device.
He came back with the tiny padlock and key and I locked the cage that was firmly in place on his cock.
I sent him off to run errands with his cock locked away as I lounged in the bath.
Upon his return he found me spread out on the bed, naked and reading a book.
As we had already discussed his tasks for the evening, he retrieved the necessary items to do the shaving.
I continued to read as he lathered up my pussy with shaving cream and began to meticulously shave it.
It is such an intimate act to be shaved by someone else, especially there and I thoroughly enjoyed having him do it.
His fingers were so gentle in their task, he was concerned with how sharp or dull the razor was and if he was causing me any discomfort with his manipulations.
He was very sweet.
I am sure I must have read the same section of my book at least four times while he was shaving me as my attention was completely distracted by the feel of the razor stroking across my feminine mound and how his fingers were gently manipulating the entirety of my pussy.
I wanted his mouth on my newly shaved smoothness the moment he was finished and forgot about my book completely before it hit the floor.
It is an exquisite sensation, a tongue licking, a mouth sucking on freshly shaved flesh, so sensitive it is to even its exposure to air and I came quickly into his eagerly opened mouth.
His cock bulged inside of its cage, his balls full and heavy as I instructed him to strap on a dildo to fuck me.
It took a bit of adjusting, to keep his caged cock and the padlock out of the way of the strap-on dildo, but he managed although with a little rubbing of one against the other and as he drove the fake dick into my pussy with his own caged up, I made him watch it and tormented him about not using his cock.
I wantonly came, having orgasm after orgasm as he pumped me with the dildo strapped to him.
He begged to fuck me and I took the greatest pleasure in telling him no.
I thought his cock would break the cage it was in as it was pressing violently against the plastic.
I put him on his knees, ass up in the air, swollen balls visible between his spread legs and his cock heavy with its cage, then pegged his ass while reminding him he was mine.
I took his ass until he could no longer support his weight and then pulled him into a bent position over the edge of the mattress and fucked him more.
I love watching "my cock" going in and out of his ass, pulling on his ass and listening to him whimper, possessing him.
When I was done, as I removed my harness, he laid on the bed whithering from the intense need to cum.
His need effected me as I knew he was suffering for me and it made me greedy for more.
I grabbed the vibrator, flipped him over and straddled his face keeping myself high enough to use the vibrator and as he begged beneath me to have my cunt I came on his face, twice, squirting ferociously from orgasms that I was sure would drown him.
He was begging to have his cock inside of me, to feel my cunt clench around it, to feel its heat sheath his shaft and to feel my wetness drip down his balls.
I straddled across him, spreading my pussy on the cage and used it to rub my clit until I was mad with the need to cum again and when I did, his balls were dripping with my juices.
He was nearly in tears from wanting release, release I wouldn't give him after being so greedy in having mine.
His suffering, his begging and pleading, how he tried to rub his caged cock on me, like a humping animal as I laughed at him, told him how sad he was, it gave me an incredible thrill.
His every body movement was of desperation and it caused me to want more.
I spread my legs for his fingers to enter my cunt, to rub my clit and to bring me to more orgasms until finally I was so sensitive, so raw, that I had him stop.
I was exhausted from the exhilaration.
It took icing his balls and to give him a measure of comfort and then I left him, feeling high on the power of dominance as this was the first time I had denied him his orgasm.

Ego tripping...

2009-08-09T22:28:00.001-06:00

Husband and I met WL at a bar that featured a dueling piano/comedy show.
He was already seated, in the back, against a wall at a table for two with an extra chair pulled over.
He waved when he saw us at the front.
We hugged, it was as if we were old friends, it was a good hug.
Introductions and handshakes between the men.
I HATE those tall bar stools as I am too short and too uncoordinated to hop up on one without making an ass out of myself, nearly tipping over the table, the chair and myself.
I positioned myself in the middle, as graceful as a pregnant cow, between the two of them, flustered from embarrassment at my lack of coordination but recovered to send Husband off to the bar to order drinks so I would have a moment to size WL up since it was the first time we met.
He was younger looking than I expected for his age, decent hair, deep brown eyes and an easy smile. Nice looking.
I had already surmised, out of habit really, that he was slightly shorter than the 5'9 he claimed to be, more like on the underside of 5'8, but with a better physique than I had expected.
When Husband returned the conversation had an edge to it, they knew they were meeting for potentially having a sexual experience with each other, all of us together.
It is interesting how men socialize, especially when the potential for sharing a sexual experience is the purpose for meeting, their egos where tangible, pressing against me from both sides.
Both took a practiced relaxed posture.
I steadied myself and smiled into my martini.
Our table for the show was ready and we moved there, it was more comfortable, each was closer to me on either side, a male thigh touching each of mine.
The interaction during the show was limited but I found myself having to balance between the two of them, not excluding either, touching each the same amount but in different ways, Husband reassuringly and WL with a promise.
I was repeating practically everything I said, first to one and then to the other.
Eye candy was all around, a 21 year old that was cute as a button at the table next to us, a flirty brunette with spiked hair, an excellent boob job and spiked heels, a luscious bleach blond with deep cleavage and a tight ass, a natural blond with swaying hips and jiggling tits...it was an endless parade and it amused me how many were without male companions as I sat with two.
A little elf of a man was making his way around a table of females celebrating a 20-something's birthday, he wasn't part of their party, spreading his legs over their laps, bracing himself on the back of their chairs and gyrating like a rabbit being electrocuted.
The woman all responded the same; they sat, embarrassed, not knowing how to dislodge him.
I excused myself from my table and caught him mid-stride going from one table to another, caught him by one of his Dumbo ears and pulled him down with me as I sat in an open chair, then caught the other ear as I pulled his freakishly small head down until he knelt and proceeded to catch his face between my legs applying vice grip pressure.
There were cheers, hoots and hollers, even the piano players threw in their comical comments as he struggled to remove his head from between my knees, I clutched until he agreed to leave the women alone.
It took barely a minute.
I returned to my table to two men with looks of awe on their faces.
"Needed to take care of that, did you?", Husband asked.
"Looks like she did", WL responded.
I returned to enjoying the show feeling exceptionally empowered in my dominant nature that I suspect was fueled by my consumption of several martinis.
Each shifted just slightly more toward me, now shoulders, arms and thighs were touching, me comfortably in the middle, the body language was becoming more intimate, I couldn't help but wonder if anyone who happened to glance in our direction noticed.
At the end of the night I walked between two attractive men, talking candidly about scheduling a scene together, one with his arm wrapped around my waist and the other holding my hand.
One of the girls from the table that suffered the Rabbit Man was walking toward us, "I know you! Damn! You are so fucking cool!"
Yeah, I was on an ego trip.

Taking possession...

2009-08-06T19:13:00.001-06:00

Reconstructing my relationship with Husband has been about honesty.

I haven't in the past been completely honest with Husband because I haven't been completely honest with myself.

I was struggling with the traditional ideals I was taught to follow in male/female relationships, trying to incorporate those ideals even though they weren't genuine to who I am into a D/s relationship and that compromised myself as well as my relationship with Husband.

Since we've been separated I have been able to be more genuine because I didn't feel an obligation to try and fulfill the traditional role of being a "wife".

Being a single woman allowed me the freedom to explore myself, to develop relationships that began with expectations that were in alignment with what I truly want out of them and to focus on my needs and wants instead of being distracted from them by fulfilling another person's needs and wants.

In experiencing my sexuality more genuinely than I ever have before I have become capable of expressing myself more authentically and being comfortable with that expression.

I am more comfortable asking for and expecting to get exactly what I ask for without feeling emotional conflict.

After a long day of working I wanted Husband to cook me a dinner, wearing a frilly pair of
panties while I relaxed with a glass of wine.

I got exactly that.

I enjoyed watching Husband cook our meal while he wore a pair of lacy crotchless panties, his cock dangling between his legs and fully accessible to me.

Randomly I would stroke his cock to make it hard and send him back to his chores.

When he brought me a fresh glass of wine I tilted the glass, grabbed his cock, dipped it into the wine and "drank" from his erection.

As I remained fully clothed for the psychological effect I would call him over to the couch were I sat, in full view of the kitchen, and have him rub his cock on my clothed body as I kissed him possessively and then send him back into the kitchen with another hard on.

Additionally, there has been no intercourse (or my consuming Husband's cum) as he has not gotten the test results from the doctor yet, so I stripped off my jeans and panties to spread my legs as I lounged on the couch to give Husband a full view of my pussy.

It pleased me to have him whimpering as he begged to fuck me and after dinner I allowed him to use a dildo to make me cum, taunting him that it wasn't his cock that was satisfying me.

Then I put him on his back, pushed his bent knees up and fucked him with a strap-on, taunting him even more that I could use my "cock" when he wasn't allowed to use his.

I loved looking down as my hips pushed forward and the dildo entered his ass, it gave me a high of possessing him.

I loved the expressions on his face of pleasurable pain as I randomly slapped his balls and shoved the dildo deep into him.

I loved how he responded so submissively when I was done taking his ass and shoved my pussy onto his face, cumming on it until he was nearly unable to breathe.

He begged for permission to cum and I gave it to him, making him jack himself off while I reminded him that he was not allowed to fuck my pussy because he was being punished.

Afterward, Husband told me that being punished turned him on.

It was then that I introduced the idea of another type of punishment, a male chastity device.

Husband hasn't any experience with chastity devices, so I explained the concept to him and then we spent some time looking at them online.

Of course his first reaction was to be hestitant but after a few conversations and my obvious interest in having his cock caged, he is now excited to try it.

We will be experimenting later this week and I am looking forward to having control of his cock on a 24/7 basis, knowing he will be unable to be unfaithful to me because I will have the key.

Although I am introducing the chastity device to Husband as a fun addition to our play I have an alterior motive.

Husband's infidelity is one of the contributing factors to our marriage failing and keeping him in a chastity device when we are apart is the solution I am going to implement.

It will be a gradual process; first he will be wearing it while we go to dinner, to get use to wearing it for a short span of time and then he'll be wearing it to work for the day while still having the key in his possession so that if it becomes uncomfortable he can take it off.

Once he is comfortable wearing it for the day, he'll be wearing it for a couple days, then a few more until he's wearing it for a week and gradually he'll continue to wear it for longer periods of time until he is wearing it whenever he isn't with me.

Of course, when he isn't with me, he won't have access to his cock or to the key to unlock it as they will both belong to me.

Who we are...the beginning of acceptance

2009-08-03T11:31:00.003-06:00

During our conversations about beginning anew with our relationship Husband and I discussed his submissive nature and my dominant nature.
Even though we have discussed both topics in previous conversations, these conversations have been enlightening because we are both in a more accepting mindset regarding our sexualities.
Husband admitted his concern that if he embraced his submissiveness and didn't at intervals dominate me that I would feel a void in our sexual relationship because I am a switch.
I understood his concern and admitted that before I understood how strong my dominant sexual self was, that may have been true.
What I have learned about myself, that I shared with Husband, is that I am a dominant woman and although I enjoy submissive acts occasionally, those acts do not change who I am at the core.
[Only one person has ever dominated me beyond a scene, that being WK and we discussed that as well but let me begin at the beginning as I did with Husband.]
Although I consider myself a switch, the more accurate description would be I am a dominate woman with the possibility of being submissive.
As I reviewed the experiences I have had in my life sexually I recognized a pattern; 90% of the experiences I remember as positive, fulfilling and well, even memorable, were experiences in which I was in the dominant position.
Unlike dominance, submission isn't an extension of my sexuality as much as it a deviance from it. In retrospect I have noticed my need to be submissive is parallel to being overwhelmed in my life and needing an escape from the responsibilities I take upon myself as the Alpha female.
Being submissive is escapism for me.
It is a moment in the continuum of dominance that is my life to escape, to be for a moment something I am not regularly and to allow myself to let go of the control.
I think of it like riding on a roller coaster, that exhilaration of giving up control, to just experience the ride with all my senses but knowing the thrill is structured and that I will regain control at the end.
I like being in control, that thrills me 90% of the time and although there is the need for the other 10%, it can be derived by simple acts of submission; a role playing scene as the little girl to my "daddy" or as the domestic help that finds herself sexually serving her employer.
Those are roles in which Husband can satisfy my need to be submissive when it arises.
We discussed Husband's submissive nature and his internal struggle with how to accept his submissiveness and express it.
He feels a lot of shame for being submissive and wanting to express that by being feminized and dominated by a woman.
He struggles with being the definition of a man he has defined for himself by way of his own thoughts and thoughts of influential people such as his parents; physically strong and capable, the primary wage earner, the disciplinarian fathers, the hunter, the builder, the mechanic and all the other macho stereotypes (good and bad) that include beer, poker night, farting in the bathtub and pool leagues.
It is difficult for him to acknowledge he can be what he is and that none of it is mutually exclusive from everything else.
As I explained it to him; he can still change out an engine while wearing frilly panties because wearing the panties doesn't negate his skill at fixing cars.
He can still be one of the guys at poker night, drinking beer, smoking pot and telling raunchy jokes, even if his cock is caged and I am holding the key.
He can still discipline our son as a father should even though at night it is his ass that is bent over the bed and being spanked.
He is still masculine and capable physically even though I have him kneel at my feet.
We discussed how I can help him achieve compatibility with his masculinity and his sexuality, how we both can be who we are in all facets of our lives.
We've spent the last week doing exactly that...[to be continued...and yes, it includes a male chastity device for him.]

Confessions and monogamy

2009-08-02T19:49:00.004-06:00

Today is my wedding anniversary.
If you have read my blog for a certain length of time you know that Husband left me 19 months ago.
Technically, I am still married, at least on paper as we have never filed paperwork not even legal separation papers.
The reasons we haven't are mostly financial as both of us stand to lose a lot of money in a legal divorce while the housing and stock market are weak not to mention we would lose the tax benefits of being legally married and I would lose my health insurance.
There were other reasons as well, reasons neither of us wanted to admit, emotional reasons that in admitting would make us vulnerable to being hurt.
A few weeks ago Husband and I had a conversation, a conversation about being together as the changed people both of us have become since our separation and allowing our relationship to develop without expectations or the influence of the past.
The weeks that followed were wonderful, a falling back in love, until I found the diet Dr. Pepper in Husband's fridge.
As innocuous as a soda may seem it wasn't to me because I knew it was there because a female had been in his house.
A female who I knew he had been sleeping with and who I had thought he was no longer seeing since we were together.
I thought us beginning again meant we were being honest with one another.
I had known he was "seeing" someone, it hurt, deeply, but at the time when I figured it out it wasn't my right to ask about his relationship with her.
This time I asked.
Husband has mastered circular thinking; his response was he knew that I knew he was sleeping with someone else and I knew that he knew I knew so he didn't think it was dishonest not to discuss her with me because if I had wanted to know specifics, I would have asked so he didn't bring her up because by me not asking, well, obviously I didn't want to know.
Let me iterate here that it wasn't the fact he was having sex with her that pissed me off but the fact that he didn't take the responsibility to be honest with me about his relationship with her while he and I were in a relationship.
As I was processing that a) Husband had been having a relationship with this woman for four months and b) wasn't honest with me about the relationship, Husband tells me a fact that sent me into a near emotional breakdown; he had been having UNPROTECTED SEX with this woman for FOUR MONTHS.
I hung up the phone, threw up for 10 minutes and then sat crying uncontrollably until I could reach a friend on the phone who talked me back from my hysteria.
Why was I hysterical?
I can count on three fingers the number of men with whom I have had unprotected sex.
The first, was my first sexual encounter when I was a stupid teenager.
The second was my first "love" and we were in a committed relationship for four years.
I was still young and stupid during that relationship considering he was my high school "sweetheart" and we broke up my freshman year of college.
The third was Husband.
In every other situation I have practiced safe sex, almost in some people's views, to the extreme.
If a guy wanted to have sex with me and didn't have protection, we didn't have sex.
If a girl wanted to use a dildo on me and it didn't belong to me, it was wrapped in a rubber before it was inserted.
I don't play with other people's sex toys; I bring my own and they are used only on me unless they are wrapped in rubber and then often times I would purchase others anyway.
I sanitize my personal toys after and BEFORE I use them and that is after storing them in plastic.
So to have Husband tell me that he trusted MY HEALTH and potentially MY LIFE to someone I haven't even met tossed me into an anxiety attack.
Once I came down from the emotional edge I called Husband and simply asked, "What gave you the right to risk MY health?"
Yes, it was my mistake to have unprotected sex with Husband when I knew he had had sex with other women even if he didn't confirm it.
It was stupid of me to assume that since he had used a condom with the women before her that he would have used one with her.
I should have treated him as I treated every other sexual partner and insisted on using protection but well, he is MY HUSBAND.
After hours of conversation interspersed with tears Husband and I were still discussing continuing our relationship but I put forth requirements.
The first: he is to be tested for every sexually transmitted disease from A to Z in the English, Arabic AND Cantonese alphabet and I am to review the test results. Until I know he is clean I am not having sex with him.
The second: he is to discontinue having ANY sexual relationship with anyone else but me.
The third: he is to discontinue his relationship with the woman he's been seeing.
I am sure the first requirement is self-explanatory but let me explain the others as I am sure they seem contradicting to my usual open-mindedness about nontraditional relationships.
I like monogamy.
However, I define it slightly different than the traditional meaning.
My definition of a monogamous relationship is one in which two partners are emotionally exclusive and sexually exclusive with the expectation of when it is agreed that as a couple they will have shared sexual experiences.
It is a convoluted definition but one that works for me.
I explained my definition as what I would accept in a relationship with Husband.
I want emotional monogamy.
I want exclusive emotional commitment and that requires sexual monogamy unless the sexual experience is agreed upon and shared as a couple.
My example to Husband was this: you go to a bar with me, are attracted to a woman and go back to her place and fuck her.
Not acceptable. Not monogamous.
We go to a bar together, you are attracted to a woman, we discuss your attraction, we agree to a sexual encounter with her as a couple and we go back to her place and fucking ensues.
Acceptable. Monogamous.
In wanting monogamy, both emotional and sexual I know Husband well enough to know that he would not be able to be monogamous to me while having a "friendship" with this woman.
A scenario I described to him: she is a bartender at a local bar, he goes in for a drink with the mindset he is only going in for a drink and nothing else, they begin to talk and at the end of her shift she suggests going back to his place to continue the conversation. He agrees with the reasoning it is only for conversation, he is in control and is certain nothing sexual will happen.
The result is that he is apologizing to me for having sex with her while his actions have ruined our relationship.
Husband contacted her and explained he can no longer continue his relationship and he has a doctor's appointment on Tuesday.
He has also agreed to purchasing and wearing a chastity device...more on that later...

Friends...

2009-07-27T18:42:00.005-06:00

This week-end there was an occasion to get together a group of my friends at my house for a BBQ and as we sat in a circle on my front lawn I couldn't help but reflect what a motley group it was:
My (ex) husband: the straight man who has a proclivity toward wearing woman's underwear and being fucked in the ass with a strap-on.
My best girlfriend: the straight woman who is open minded enough to take a strip-tease class in Las Vegas and pose in a leather outfit complete with corset and 6 inch platform boots while wielding a whip even though she blushes when I ask if she has gotten laid.
Poly-amorous group 1: a dominant female who is an attention whore and positioned herself in the middle of the circle with her blouse opened provocatively, her submissive secondary male who was attentive to myself and the other females by always being there at just the right moment to be chivalrously helpful and her tertiary male who is outwardly quiet and misjudged as submissive although he has an intellect that dominates when he is in the mood.
Poly-amorous group 2: a dominant male who uses his physical presence as the primary tool of his dominance although he possess whit and charm that is unassuming, his wife who is a previous "Internet model" who is still at 25 years old exploring her sexuality and learning how to use it effectively and their third*, a dim-witted 19 year old with low self-esteem who uses exaggeration to boost her confidence without understanding how annoying it can be to those of us who have actually "been there and done that".
The female-led couple: she a former Pro-Domme and he a submissive husband who provides for her as she dictates, including being in agreement to an open marriage as she has a female lover, or two.
The straight couple: both with the traditional patriarchal beliefs they rigorously practice, often to the point of being judgemental and closed minded but still manage to voyeuristic.
The party girl: recently divorced, probably exploring her sexuality with more than just men but not yet ready to admit it and partying every chance she has the opportunity.
The wall flower: she's recently divorced, shy, insecure and a little lonely as her circle of friends have been minimized by an unsociable ex-husband.
It is humbling to realize I have such a wonderfully diverse group of friends who would come together at my invitation to celebrate an occasion with me that without them would not be quite as special.
Of course, my ass wouldn't have been so sore if some hadn't taken enthusiastic pleasure in giving me the celebratory spankings but hey, what are really goods friends for if not for that? ;)

*I should note they are currently encouraging her out of their relationship.

Strap ons: Penis envy or redefining gender roles?

2009-07-23T20:32:00.000-06:00

It isn't about penis envy, it is about penetration, and that is why I enjoy using a strap-on.
There is a theory I remember becoming aware of when I was in high school that it is males' physical ability to perform the act of penetration that gives them the innate designation of being dominate.
In the days when conking a woman on her head with a big club and dragging her by her hair constituted foreplay...wait, that still can in some circles but you know what I mean...and before the identification of testosterone, I think there was some validity to the theory.
As I remember it was based on the premise that males, having the penis designed as it is, quite literally carry a weapon with them and that sex was not a nurturing act of love but an act of violence.
I was reminded of the theory in college during an anthropology course in which the professor discussed that intercourse, for primitive humans, was anthropologically speaking, a violent act perpetrated by males against females. This makes sense when one considers that the males of the species have a built in weapon.
Consent was not a consideration so it also made sense the gender with the weapon become dominant.
Fast forward to the year 2009 where consent is the premise of human sexual interaction, where sexualities have evolved from being a biological need to propagate to a diverse social and personal expression and where women can purchase a phallus, or anthropologically speaking, a weapon.
For a man to be penetrated by a woman is redefining the gender roles designated to us by our anatomical forms from the beginning of our species.
Wow, that's deep, huh?
My point, is that in using a strap-on dildo I am not imitating males but rather using the most basic of weaponry to gain power over them, using if you will, an imitation of the weapon that gave them [if you find the theory valid] prehistoric dominance to diminish that dominance.
Oh yeah, and it's hot.
It is hot for me because the act of penetrating a man so irrevocably changes the dynamic of He=Dominant to He=submissive.
For some men it is humiliating and there is definitely value in that but humiliation isn't my kink, my kink is about the relinquishing of power and I find that presenting ones vulnerabilities to another person to be one of the sexiest forms of relinquishment.
Basically, it is still taboo for a guy to admit he likes to be fucked up the ass, so to challenge that taboo, to push the limit created by it and to have him submit willingly to something that will dramatically change or solidify my domination over him...yeah, that's why I like to use a strap-on.

Submissive men...aisle 12, bottom shelf

2009-07-22T19:48:00.005-06:00

One of the first things I read in various online forums, about being a Domme, is that I would have a myriad of options like being a solitary female choosing from a ship full of men just returning from sea after a year without so much as seeing a Playboy magazine.
So, I began my search for a submissive male with optimism.
That optimism has dissipated.
First, I have discovered the term submissive, as well as the term slave, are defined so diversely in the kink world, each person having a definition based on their personal experience, that using them seems rather pointless because there seems to be no widely accepted definition of either.
In this discovery, and learning other people's definition, I have had to question: When I say submissive male, what do I really mean? What do I really want?
It seems what I want has evolved from wanting play partners, those who are only sexually submissive, to wanting a submissive natured male as a primary poly-partner.
Honestly, I am still trying to attach all the correct adjectives to what I want but I think that sums it up.
I am content with the play partners I have in my life.
Sure, if I could wave a magic wand I would prefer to have a steady play partner, one that was available at my beck and call but I am not dissatisfied with the arrangements I have currently.
It is the transition of having play partners to wanting a primary relationship with a submissive male that is proving to be more difficult than I expected.
A true submissive male is nearly a mythical creature.
A large part of the issue is that society forces them to live as mythical creatures; not seen except by those who truly believe, like fairies in the forest.
It just isn't possible to go to your local BDSM-R-US store and check out aisle 12 for the latest selection in submissive men.
Submissive men live as Alpha men when society is looking because if they don't they are regarded as less than the macho standard that is set for men in this country.
They are taught practically from the moment their heads crown in their delivery into this world they are to be dominant and anything less is unacceptably unmanly.
There is the acceptance of being dominated sexually by a woman. That has to some degree become sexy and desirable, but there is a clear message to males that sexual domination by a female is the only exception in which they can retain their masculinity.
So men are not openly submissive because to do so would be risking being ridiculed and being ostracised.
That is the dilemma for a dominant female; how do we recognize them when they are pretending to be something they are not in an effort to hide their true submissive natures?
I specifically ask this question in regards to the area in which I live, that being a rural, right-winged, predominately religious area where patriarchal views of relationship are still the standard.
The most common way is via the Internet as it allows submissive men to become members of BDSM groups or D/s focused "dating" sites and with the protection of relative anonymity, seek out dominant women.
It is an imperfect solution as the focus of Internet interaction becomes on the sexual aspects of BDSM as opposed to the relationship aspects of a D/s coupleship.
It becomes about the kink exclusively; Do you like to have that done to you? Do you like to do this to someone else?
In my experience as a dominant woman it is an exhausting process to weed out all the Alphas in sheep's clothing seeking to fulfill selfish fantasies, all the wannabes who don't understand the first thing about D/s relationships and all the men who want only to be sexually dominated.
It was suggested to me that I expand my search beyond the Internet and into the "real world", to use observation and notice the males who go beyond chivalry in their behaviors; the ones that rush to open the door, that offer to assist in unexpected ways, that are attentive in noticing my drink needs to be refilled and that, in the words of the suggester, treat their mothers well.
I have begun to put into practice that suggestion but truthfully I am stumped as to how to engage a male I may identify as submissive.
How does one approach them?
"Hi, I noticed you do [insert whatever was noticed here], are you by chance a submissive male interested in being with a dominant woman?"
It isn't about rejection for me, it is about discretion.
Of course there is the possibility of being rejected when approaching a stranger who has caught my attention as they may not reciprocate the attraction but that is just part of adulthood, it happens, it isn't personal and I move on.
However, imply to a male he's submissive when he's not, yeah, that could create an awkward situation especially if he feels you have insulted him or demeaned his masculinity.
Yes, I know, it isn't necessary to even mention the words dominant and submissive in the first contact, I am just using the example as a way of expressing that first interactions are exceptionally difficult to navigate when you're not wearing name tags that read, "Hi, I'm Jaye, a female dominant" or "Hello, my name is Bob and I'm submissive".
Unfortunately, there is also the possibility that even though Bob is a submissive, that we are not a good match.
Of course that compatibility encompasses our kinks but it also includes; is he a couch potato or does he like to be active, do we have common interests besides BDSM, do we listen to the same types of music and most importantly, are we able to communicate effectively?
None of that really matters when all you do with someone is scene with them, well, with the exception of communicating effectively but that is specific to the scene, not in a generalized sense.
I have a play partner, who I have played with for a couple years now, and I don't even know his name, it just isn't necessary.
It is possible I am not "doing" this right, but it seems if I am honest from the onset that I am interested in a D/s relationship the focus immediately shifts to the sexual components not allowing for the development of a full relationship.
If I am not honest from the onset and allow a relationship to begin without the D/s aspect then I risk struggling to redefine the relationship or losing it completely.
So the question becomes, do I start dating a vanilla guy and bring the D/s aspects into our relationship, hoping he'll be into it? Or do I try to evolve a relationship with a submissive guy with whom I am sexual?
And how to I know the difference between a submissive male posing as a vanilla one and a vanilla one posing as a submissive guy?
And does anyone know how to make a really good meatloaf?