I've been thinking about my post and the replies I've had to it....
Maybe its like stages of D/s?
The start is the rules and impressing the rules - so there are orders
Then after that its keeping up with the expectations - so there are requests (requests that are going to be followed because of the extent of the training at the start)
But could it be that when you get to the stage of keeping up with expectations, that things become... dare I say... dull?
Dom's train their subs to be "perfect" subs to the Dom's they have... but then, whats the allure for the Dom once the sub has reached that? Or is it impossible for a sub to ever become that proficient?
so many questions, so little answers!
~OH
Tuesday, 22 November 2011
"Real" submission
I was daydreaming in the car on the drive home... thinking of some short little fuck story I could type up here to tease myself before I make myself cum later on tonight... and my musings bought me to a realization... one that really, I've known before... but in this Dom-less time, have neglected/forgotten...
Real submission isnt doing something after being ordered... its doing something after being asked.
Got to really wonder why there is the need for making demands and orders for a committed long term D/s lifestyle... unless its punishment.
Or would that be taking away some of the very obvious balance play in the relationship?
Any ideas from those out there?
~OH
Real submission isnt doing something after being ordered... its doing something after being asked.
Got to really wonder why there is the need for making demands and orders for a committed long term D/s lifestyle... unless its punishment.
Or would that be taking away some of the very obvious balance play in the relationship?
Any ideas from those out there?
~OH
Monday, 21 November 2011
"I don't think I'm beautiful. When I look in the mirror, I just see me"
"You look utterly... charming... tonight, my dear" he whispers softly, his lips brushing against the sensitive shell of my ear. I smile, pleased that he is proud of me. I shift my legs slightly, my knees starting to ache from my time kneeling on the floor before him.
"Poor slut, sore? Come, stand and look at how beautiful you look" he crooks his finger and I scramble to stand and make my way over to him.
He simply nods to the mirror and I gasp, seeing my reflection.
My hair is mused... more than mused... from his hands and fists holding my head in place while he fucked my mouth and my throat.
My eyeliner and mascara have run down my face, because of my tears as he wanked with my mouth and from the tears as he repeatedly slapped my face, demanding I open wider, that I relax my throat, that I please him more.
My cheeks are flushed and red from the slaps from his hand and from his cock. Degrading me by rubbing his spit-soaked cock over my face. But the biggest turn on from looking at my used body in the mirror... my lips. bruised and swollen. Red and pouting. Soft and used. Covered in spit and cum that have slid from my lips down my chin and dropped onto my chest.
"You look like a proper little whore now, dont you?" He whispers naughtily into my ear. My eyes on his reflection in the mirror, I nod.
I watch, fascinated as he runs his fingers through the cum and spit on my chest.
"You act like a little whore too, dont you little one?" he murmurs gently as he rubs his cum into my nipples. Pinching and twisting them sharply when I do not answer soon enough.
"Yes!" I gasp breathlessly. My spine arching back so that the cleft of my ass cradles his cock. The more he caresses and torments my nipples, the more I grind my ass lustfully against his dick.
"Look at yourself. Look at what a desperate, horny little cunt you are" he demands and I moan loudly in need., watching my hips rub and press back, watching his hands palm my tits... squeezing until I whimper and grind harder against him, feeling his stinging slaps against my tender flesh.
"What do you want, slut?" he asks softly.
"More"
"Poor slut, sore? Come, stand and look at how beautiful you look" he crooks his finger and I scramble to stand and make my way over to him.
He simply nods to the mirror and I gasp, seeing my reflection.
My hair is mused... more than mused... from his hands and fists holding my head in place while he fucked my mouth and my throat.
My eyeliner and mascara have run down my face, because of my tears as he wanked with my mouth and from the tears as he repeatedly slapped my face, demanding I open wider, that I relax my throat, that I please him more.
My cheeks are flushed and red from the slaps from his hand and from his cock. Degrading me by rubbing his spit-soaked cock over my face. But the biggest turn on from looking at my used body in the mirror... my lips. bruised and swollen. Red and pouting. Soft and used. Covered in spit and cum that have slid from my lips down my chin and dropped onto my chest.
"You look like a proper little whore now, dont you?" He whispers naughtily into my ear. My eyes on his reflection in the mirror, I nod.
I watch, fascinated as he runs his fingers through the cum and spit on my chest.
"You act like a little whore too, dont you little one?" he murmurs gently as he rubs his cum into my nipples. Pinching and twisting them sharply when I do not answer soon enough.
"Yes!" I gasp breathlessly. My spine arching back so that the cleft of my ass cradles his cock. The more he caresses and torments my nipples, the more I grind my ass lustfully against his dick.
"Look at yourself. Look at what a desperate, horny little cunt you are" he demands and I moan loudly in need., watching my hips rub and press back, watching his hands palm my tits... squeezing until I whimper and grind harder against him, feeling his stinging slaps against my tender flesh.
"What do you want, slut?" he asks softly.
"More"
Cold
Omg... I am so cold.
My room today was 13 degrees. 13. With the heating on.
It was distractingly cold
And the worst thing about it all....
My pierced nipples were achingly hard and tingling for THE ENTIRE DAY.
I wanted to tease and torment them so badly. Pull on the rings, flicking my nipple, rubbing it with my thumb, pinching them lightly then harder and harder until they were pouting and red.... but I couldnt. It was driving me crazy. My black thong was soaked when I got home.
And of course I just HAD to play with myself when I got home... fantasizing and denying myself all day was just driving me mad.
And hot damn did it feel so good! Better if someone else were doing it... but beggars cannot be choosers!
My room today was 13 degrees. 13. With the heating on.
It was distractingly cold
And the worst thing about it all....
My pierced nipples were achingly hard and tingling for THE ENTIRE DAY.
I wanted to tease and torment them so badly. Pull on the rings, flicking my nipple, rubbing it with my thumb, pinching them lightly then harder and harder until they were pouting and red.... but I couldnt. It was driving me crazy. My black thong was soaked when I got home.
And of course I just HAD to play with myself when I got home... fantasizing and denying myself all day was just driving me mad.
And hot damn did it feel so good! Better if someone else were doing it... but beggars cannot be choosers!
Sunday, 20 November 2011
A bit of free writing....
"Like it down there, you fuck?" he snarls. That elegantly cool face now a mask of disdain and anger.
I whimper pathetically, my cunt creaming from the pain and the malice.
He grinds his boot harder against my face, pressing it down into the grass and dirt of the garden. My head throbbing, my eyes unfocused from the pressure, the growing pressure, against my temples. Naked, the freezing night air makes me shiver and I try to curl my body around his legs for warmth. He simply laughs and grinds his boot harder against my head.
Mud and grass smeared in my hair and over my cheek from under his boot and the ground below me.
"Whats the matter, toy? Changed your mind? You wanted "more" didnt you? Didnt you beg me to hurt you more? Degrade you more? Use you more?" he jeers, his lips set in a sarcastic grin.
I open my mouth to reply, but as soon as my swollen lips part to speak, he removes his boot from my head and forces it cruelly into my mouth. Stretching my jaw and lips.
"Lick"
My cunt clenches, dripping and begging to be used.
I hesitantly move my tongue over the polished leather over the toe of the boot, disgusted with myself for cleaning the shoe, disgusted with the taste of the dirt on them, disgusted at how much I need him to keep treating me this way.
He removes the shoe from my mouth and fists his large hands into my hair. Dragging me up chest height he slaps my cheek. The pain blooms across my face. My eyes water as the fiery red pain builds. I cant help myself from whimpering in pleasure. His eyes narrows and he slaps me again, harder.
I cry out this time. The pain throbbing and mounting. My tongue tastes blood from my split lip and I groan, sucking my lip greedily, making it sting more.
He grabs my jaw and presses his thumbs behind my teeth. Presses so hard that my teeth cut the inside of my cheek. I buck in pain. Buck in pleasure. I need to feel his cock inside me. And he knows it. He watches my hips jerk and buck avidly while he keeps squeezing my jaw.
With a twist of his thumbs, he opens my jaw to spit inside my mouth. Immediately, I bathe my tongue in his spit.
"Your mouth is foul. God only knows what dirt was on my shoe. But you dont care, do you?" He shakes my head, my scalp burning as my hair is jerked.
"No, didnt think so. You'd happily clean my shoes with your mouth again, wouldnt you, hole?" He nods my head, my eyes welling from the pain. The tears spilling down my dirty cheek, making a slim, pale path.
He gently traces a finger down my cheek, catching my tear and bringing it to his lips. I gasp, watching him suck his finger clean of my salty, pain-fueled tears. So intimate, him taking the evidence of my pain and submission into his body
"Delicious and mine" he smiles gently at me.
I whimper pathetically, my cunt creaming from the pain and the malice.
He grinds his boot harder against my face, pressing it down into the grass and dirt of the garden. My head throbbing, my eyes unfocused from the pressure, the growing pressure, against my temples. Naked, the freezing night air makes me shiver and I try to curl my body around his legs for warmth. He simply laughs and grinds his boot harder against my head.
Mud and grass smeared in my hair and over my cheek from under his boot and the ground below me.
"Whats the matter, toy? Changed your mind? You wanted "more" didnt you? Didnt you beg me to hurt you more? Degrade you more? Use you more?" he jeers, his lips set in a sarcastic grin.
I open my mouth to reply, but as soon as my swollen lips part to speak, he removes his boot from my head and forces it cruelly into my mouth. Stretching my jaw and lips.
"Lick"
My cunt clenches, dripping and begging to be used.
I hesitantly move my tongue over the polished leather over the toe of the boot, disgusted with myself for cleaning the shoe, disgusted with the taste of the dirt on them, disgusted at how much I need him to keep treating me this way.
He removes the shoe from my mouth and fists his large hands into my hair. Dragging me up chest height he slaps my cheek. The pain blooms across my face. My eyes water as the fiery red pain builds. I cant help myself from whimpering in pleasure. His eyes narrows and he slaps me again, harder.
I cry out this time. The pain throbbing and mounting. My tongue tastes blood from my split lip and I groan, sucking my lip greedily, making it sting more.
He grabs my jaw and presses his thumbs behind my teeth. Presses so hard that my teeth cut the inside of my cheek. I buck in pain. Buck in pleasure. I need to feel his cock inside me. And he knows it. He watches my hips jerk and buck avidly while he keeps squeezing my jaw.
With a twist of his thumbs, he opens my jaw to spit inside my mouth. Immediately, I bathe my tongue in his spit.
"Your mouth is foul. God only knows what dirt was on my shoe. But you dont care, do you?" He shakes my head, my scalp burning as my hair is jerked.
"No, didnt think so. You'd happily clean my shoes with your mouth again, wouldnt you, hole?" He nods my head, my eyes welling from the pain. The tears spilling down my dirty cheek, making a slim, pale path.
He gently traces a finger down my cheek, catching my tear and bringing it to his lips. I gasp, watching him suck his finger clean of my salty, pain-fueled tears. So intimate, him taking the evidence of my pain and submission into his body
"Delicious and mine" he smiles gently at me.
Separating your soul
Can it be done?
Can you really keep two parts of your life separate from each other?
My "online life" (as I've come to call it) is submissive.
Yet I pick a career where I have to direct 30 people to all do the same thing at the same time I ask. I cant show "weakness" (not that I think being submissive is weak, but I can imagine that in my job it would be seen as weak by the 30 people I have to co-ordinate) and must take control and be the leader....
Yes yes, I cause myself no-end of issues...
Maybe I was struggling so much because I was fighting part of my nature?
Now, when I go into work, I dont feel like myself. I feel like a different version of myself... the self I could be as a Domme if I wasnt so submissive.
If any of this makes any sense to anyone out there!
I think I just need some dirty sweaty BDSM sex......
~OH
Can you really keep two parts of your life separate from each other?
My "online life" (as I've come to call it) is submissive.
Yet I pick a career where I have to direct 30 people to all do the same thing at the same time I ask. I cant show "weakness" (not that I think being submissive is weak, but I can imagine that in my job it would be seen as weak by the 30 people I have to co-ordinate) and must take control and be the leader....
Yes yes, I cause myself no-end of issues...
Maybe I was struggling so much because I was fighting part of my nature?
Now, when I go into work, I dont feel like myself. I feel like a different version of myself... the self I could be as a Domme if I wasnt so submissive.
If any of this makes any sense to anyone out there!
I think I just need some dirty sweaty BDSM sex......
~OH
Tuesday, 15 November 2011
Returning to old haunts
Hey folks.... though mostly I'm just picturing me sitting in a half furnished room talking to myself as its been so long...
Things went from bad, to worse to a meltdown.
I'm not a fan of airing dirty washing out in public, but the long and the short of it was that my new job was much harder than I expected it to be... which caused lots of stress heart ache and sleep-less nights.
I asked to be released from my Dom because I couldnt handle my work load while still providing for His needs.
I'm not "on the market" mostly because I'm only just getting into the swing of managing this job.
But I'm still here to share my thoughts and read the thoughts of others. I've missed spending the few moments it takes to read a blog and post on my own, so I'm going to try and pick up where I left off.
Keeping away from the pity party now -
I've noticed my taste running to more and more darker, meaner and more abusive fantasies/stories. Maybe one day I will feel comfortable enough about it to share some snippits with the web... but when I am not horny, my fantasies seem to be... disturbing and wrong. (which I see as somewhat of a good thing - at least thinking back on them doesnt turn me on, they just heighten my arousal when I am ALREADY turned on).
I want to explore them further. And mean as it might sound, I think being free from any sort of relationship will help me. The only niggle I had from my previous relationship was my Dom holding back from me. Wanting me to see only the good and the gentle (unless I was being punished). I dont want that. I want to explore the dark and violence.
So, no really catchy sign off comment.... just that I'm planning on being back!
~OH
Things went from bad, to worse to a meltdown.
I'm not a fan of airing dirty washing out in public, but the long and the short of it was that my new job was much harder than I expected it to be... which caused lots of stress heart ache and sleep-less nights.
I asked to be released from my Dom because I couldnt handle my work load while still providing for His needs.
I'm not "on the market" mostly because I'm only just getting into the swing of managing this job.
But I'm still here to share my thoughts and read the thoughts of others. I've missed spending the few moments it takes to read a blog and post on my own, so I'm going to try and pick up where I left off.
Keeping away from the pity party now -
I've noticed my taste running to more and more darker, meaner and more abusive fantasies/stories. Maybe one day I will feel comfortable enough about it to share some snippits with the web... but when I am not horny, my fantasies seem to be... disturbing and wrong. (which I see as somewhat of a good thing - at least thinking back on them doesnt turn me on, they just heighten my arousal when I am ALREADY turned on).
I want to explore them further. And mean as it might sound, I think being free from any sort of relationship will help me. The only niggle I had from my previous relationship was my Dom holding back from me. Wanting me to see only the good and the gentle (unless I was being punished). I dont want that. I want to explore the dark and violence.
So, no really catchy sign off comment.... just that I'm planning on being back!
~OH
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