Showing posts with label lesbian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lesbian. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Discipline
Discipline
As M.I. and I move toward a time when we live together under one roof, I look more and more toward domestic discipline as a model that I think would put our relationship in it's proper track so to speak.
I yearn for a firm dominant hand in my relationship and she is bent toward having control but her own fears and anxieties prevent her from acting at times or often acting in ways that push me away or make me feel less worthy rather than more cherished.
We are picking out paint and flooring and I want her to give me some choice but I know she has to be pleased as well. I want her to trust me to please her. But if I pick out something she does not like, I need her to let me know what it is that would make her happy.
In other areas of our deepening relationship I want her to be more commanding. If I don't respond appropriately, I want her discipline. Tell me how I should respond and punish me when I don't do as I should. When I say punish, I mean make me think about what it is that I should be doing to please you M.I. whether that is sitting silently or being turned over for a hard spanking or being sent to my room.
Think about what pleases you M.I, and tell me it's important that I do these things for you, whether it's wearing something you like, doing an errand for you, giving you a foot massage or back massage or neck massage, or getting up to feed the kitties and make coffee. Maybe it's something else. Let me know. I want to do it. Reward me then and punish me if I disregard, disrespect, disappoint.
Take me in hand and show me you cherish your submissive girl.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
imagination/desire
Fantasy/story:
The Boi
The canes and belts were laid out on the bar along side the bottles of wine. The hallway was lit with rows and rows of candles.
The boi was called for and he took his mistress’s jacket, and hung it with care. He poured her a glass of wine. He wore the whitest of briefs, tight across his ass. Miss R liked the boi’s breasts available and so he wore the flimsiest of undershirts which could be ripped from his body easily.
Miss R sat down and lifted her feet. Her boi, G, knelt quickly and unzipped her boots and took them off his mistress’s feet gently, caressing them as he did so.
“Thank you, please leave me for a moment.” Miss R relaxed, closing her eyes and resting her feet on the ottoman. She picked up a magazine and then shouted to the boi, “Come here.” She showed her boi an article about young successful women who had slave boys and girls. Everyone was of legal age but the head of the house had servants who performed various tasks including if she wanted, sexual favors. Miss R said that she might enjoy that type of arrangement. “Do you have objections boi?” “I will take them into consideration but can and will do as I wish.”
“Your pleasure Miss R is my objective,” he responded.
“Draw me a bath and hang up my clothes.” Miss R drank back the last of the wine in her glass and put it down. “You can bring me another glass when the bath is ready.”
Boi G started the bath and followed his mistress into the bedroom and took Miss R’s clothes from her as she undressed. Her skin, honey gold, smooth, lit up the room. The boi’s eyes appreciate her beauty, the high arch of her hips and ass, the curve of her breast, the dark nipple, her pretty chin, graceful neck, the sheer length of her back and legs.
Miss R walked to the bath and closed the door. She had every confidence that the temperature was perfect and that her wine would be brought after she settled in. Her boi adored her and wanted to please her.
G poured another glass of the pinot and brought it to Miss R, knocking before entering. Miss R smiled, her body relaxed, “Thank you sweet girl.” The boi enjoyed this feminization of his psyche. Miss R grabbed a nipple and pulled the boi toward her to kiss the boi’s lips. “Ok, you can go now.”
The boi went back to the kitchen and finished preparing the repast for the evening.
Dublin cheddar, fresh goat cheese, crusty oaty bread and slices of pear, apple, and strawberries as well as olives, seared scallops, and thin slices of rare red beef with horseradish cream. He laid it out on a large platter to please her eye and palate, contrasting color while keeping strong flavors apart to mix salty and sweet, tart and creamy.
Miss R loved this time in her bath, relaxing, masturbating. She would deal with the boi later during the week. The tension of the week would be played out with the canes and belts on the boi’s body increasing their sexual pleasure of each other. Now, however, he would have to be content with serving her and pleasuring her.
Miss R came out of the bath with her head wrapped and her robe on. She laid back on the chaise. G, came out of the kitchen with the platter and brought the bottle of wine. “Would you care for anything else Miss R?”
“No. Please sit with me.” She talked about her day and ownership of her new creative designs. It was important to her and the boi listened carefully to glean how she felt and hone in on her desires for achievement. Miss R was very accomplished and loved to be stroked for those things. It was important to be her champion.
“Would like to watch a movie or something Miss R,” the boi asked. “We have a couple of selections to choose from, “Before Night Falls” with Javier Badem or “Water,” the Chinese film.
“Water.”
The boi took the disc and set up the system to play. Miss R patted the couch next to her for the boi to come sit close. She took the towel off her head and reached for her comb, handing it to the boi. “Please comb it out carefully.”
He knew to start slowly at the bottom and move up, holding the top his mistress’s head. Her hair was silky, shiny, fragrant. The comb moved through her hair easily now.
“Thank you,” was all that was said when she wanted him to stop.
The movie was about an orphaned aristocrat is sent to a temple to live and encounters a temple prostitute whom she starts to emulate. Miss R loved these types of movies and enjoyed sharing them but only after the movie was over. She would pause once in a while to comment but mostly sat engrossed, entranced, taken away to another place.
She leaned into the boi, to feel his body and once relaxed, would open her legs to reveal her sex, thick and beckoning with a strip of dark hair leading to the center of her sex.
The boi touched her slowly on her thighs, barely moving his hand, fingers pressed easily not too heavy, not too light. She would hold his hand when the touch was too much sensation or push his fingers inside if she wanted more.
The best times for the boi were those moments when their eyes would meet and for a minute the world would stop and their lips would meet and a long slow kiss would seem like forever. They would go back to the movie but that moment was what he longed for every time.
At bedtime, the boi turned down the bed and Miss R would allow him the pleasure of sleeping there most nights. At times, he would just bend down, take the caning and be sent off. Miss R’s fingers would take her own pleasure, her shiny nails disappearing into her sex and her body shuddering while the boi listened intently for her orgasm but knew he couldn’t hear it but saw it in his mind as his own hands brought his climax.
Miss R planned an outing for the boi. She wanted to go shopping. The boi dressed, grabbed his wallet and went to get the car. He would wait outside for his mistress by the door.
They drove out to New Jersey with the windows down. They enjoyed these times together. Miss R would file her nails and chat about work or the movies. They talked about books and talked about their workouts. They talked about friends and going to the beach.
Miss R wanted shoes, a jacket and some new skirts. She also browsed through the lingerie. Slink adorned her well. She looked exquisite in the black corset the boi had purchased. The way she looked with the cane in her hand when she had it on was imposing. Her dominant nature shone through.
The Boi
The canes and belts were laid out on the bar along side the bottles of wine. The hallway was lit with rows and rows of candles.
The boi was called for and he took his mistress’s jacket, and hung it with care. He poured her a glass of wine. He wore the whitest of briefs, tight across his ass. Miss R liked the boi’s breasts available and so he wore the flimsiest of undershirts which could be ripped from his body easily.
Miss R sat down and lifted her feet. Her boi, G, knelt quickly and unzipped her boots and took them off his mistress’s feet gently, caressing them as he did so.
“Thank you, please leave me for a moment.” Miss R relaxed, closing her eyes and resting her feet on the ottoman. She picked up a magazine and then shouted to the boi, “Come here.” She showed her boi an article about young successful women who had slave boys and girls. Everyone was of legal age but the head of the house had servants who performed various tasks including if she wanted, sexual favors. Miss R said that she might enjoy that type of arrangement. “Do you have objections boi?” “I will take them into consideration but can and will do as I wish.”
“Your pleasure Miss R is my objective,” he responded.
“Draw me a bath and hang up my clothes.” Miss R drank back the last of the wine in her glass and put it down. “You can bring me another glass when the bath is ready.”
Boi G started the bath and followed his mistress into the bedroom and took Miss R’s clothes from her as she undressed. Her skin, honey gold, smooth, lit up the room. The boi’s eyes appreciate her beauty, the high arch of her hips and ass, the curve of her breast, the dark nipple, her pretty chin, graceful neck, the sheer length of her back and legs.
Miss R walked to the bath and closed the door. She had every confidence that the temperature was perfect and that her wine would be brought after she settled in. Her boi adored her and wanted to please her.
G poured another glass of the pinot and brought it to Miss R, knocking before entering. Miss R smiled, her body relaxed, “Thank you sweet girl.” The boi enjoyed this feminization of his psyche. Miss R grabbed a nipple and pulled the boi toward her to kiss the boi’s lips. “Ok, you can go now.”
The boi went back to the kitchen and finished preparing the repast for the evening.
Dublin cheddar, fresh goat cheese, crusty oaty bread and slices of pear, apple, and strawberries as well as olives, seared scallops, and thin slices of rare red beef with horseradish cream. He laid it out on a large platter to please her eye and palate, contrasting color while keeping strong flavors apart to mix salty and sweet, tart and creamy.
Miss R loved this time in her bath, relaxing, masturbating. She would deal with the boi later during the week. The tension of the week would be played out with the canes and belts on the boi’s body increasing their sexual pleasure of each other. Now, however, he would have to be content with serving her and pleasuring her.
Miss R came out of the bath with her head wrapped and her robe on. She laid back on the chaise. G, came out of the kitchen with the platter and brought the bottle of wine. “Would you care for anything else Miss R?”
“No. Please sit with me.” She talked about her day and ownership of her new creative designs. It was important to her and the boi listened carefully to glean how she felt and hone in on her desires for achievement. Miss R was very accomplished and loved to be stroked for those things. It was important to be her champion.
“Would like to watch a movie or something Miss R,” the boi asked. “We have a couple of selections to choose from, “Before Night Falls” with Javier Badem or “Water,” the Chinese film.
“Water.”
The boi took the disc and set up the system to play. Miss R patted the couch next to her for the boi to come sit close. She took the towel off her head and reached for her comb, handing it to the boi. “Please comb it out carefully.”
He knew to start slowly at the bottom and move up, holding the top his mistress’s head. Her hair was silky, shiny, fragrant. The comb moved through her hair easily now.
“Thank you,” was all that was said when she wanted him to stop.
The movie was about an orphaned aristocrat is sent to a temple to live and encounters a temple prostitute whom she starts to emulate. Miss R loved these types of movies and enjoyed sharing them but only after the movie was over. She would pause once in a while to comment but mostly sat engrossed, entranced, taken away to another place.
She leaned into the boi, to feel his body and once relaxed, would open her legs to reveal her sex, thick and beckoning with a strip of dark hair leading to the center of her sex.
The boi touched her slowly on her thighs, barely moving his hand, fingers pressed easily not too heavy, not too light. She would hold his hand when the touch was too much sensation or push his fingers inside if she wanted more.
The best times for the boi were those moments when their eyes would meet and for a minute the world would stop and their lips would meet and a long slow kiss would seem like forever. They would go back to the movie but that moment was what he longed for every time.
At bedtime, the boi turned down the bed and Miss R would allow him the pleasure of sleeping there most nights. At times, he would just bend down, take the caning and be sent off. Miss R’s fingers would take her own pleasure, her shiny nails disappearing into her sex and her body shuddering while the boi listened intently for her orgasm but knew he couldn’t hear it but saw it in his mind as his own hands brought his climax.
Miss R planned an outing for the boi. She wanted to go shopping. The boi dressed, grabbed his wallet and went to get the car. He would wait outside for his mistress by the door.
They drove out to New Jersey with the windows down. They enjoyed these times together. Miss R would file her nails and chat about work or the movies. They talked about books and talked about their workouts. They talked about friends and going to the beach.
Miss R wanted shoes, a jacket and some new skirts. She also browsed through the lingerie. Slink adorned her well. She looked exquisite in the black corset the boi had purchased. The way she looked with the cane in her hand when she had it on was imposing. Her dominant nature shone through.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
direction
I don't know how a simple hot tubby ends up becoming three hours of smoothing, touching, grooming, washing, talking, massaging, but it does. The care of each other bonds and creates intimacy. The private boundaries fall away. My feet are in her hands and my head follows. I feel guided. Warm, soft, strong hands washing, massaging, caressing. I am sinking into this warmth and held in her strength. Her natural talents. Leading. Directing.
Her honey skin beckons. The light in her eye calls for playtime. "So what did you buy?" A simple leading question. The hosiery. The thigh high silky stockings with lace trim are chosen. She helps me fasten the corset and I put on the hosiery. She makes some adjustments and asks me to turn in the universal sign language for turn around. I stand and obey and feel naughty and slutty. Where is the boy inside me? Fleeing fast. I revel now in my girlyness. I confess I didn't pack my heels and she is up and comes back with boots, stiletto heels. She zips them up and I love how they feel. I strut and she chides slightly, "you are not getting any tips dancing like that." I work a bit harder.
I am just getting into the dance and she asks me to bring one item from the umbrella stand. I bring three. I want ALL OF THEM. The cane with its silver tips, a strong birch for the punishment and those cold tips against my warmed skin. I want the crop with its mini flogger that stings and tingles. I want the new boar bristled hairbrush while I am over her knee, intimate and close.
"Choose one." I opt for the crop. "Bend over." I move forward slightly from where she is sitting on the couch and bend down, reaching for my ankles, my legs slightly spread. She pushes me forward slightly and I stretch further down my legs...holding the soft suede leather of these boots and feeling how difficult it will become to hold this position once the crop starts to burn. The crop strikes once and I cry out mostly from the edge of anticipation. She strikes me again in succession a few times and I feel the sting. She touches my ass. I look back and she directs my face forward with the tip of the crop. I think she strikes me hard twice and then again in succession just slightly softer three or four times. I teeter slightly as my knees quiver. I feel her power and my sex starts to moisten. She positions the small square ottoman in front of me and leans me over it. "Show me your ass," she says and I happily lift it, climbing onto 16 inch square like a circus act. I am praised. "That's it. Nice." Her voice is starting to drop and I know she is aroused.
Downward strokes in succession feel as if my skin is burning. Hard stinging strokes to my hips, upper buttocks bring heated cries. She lets me breathe. Reminds me to lift my ass to her. My hips rise as she meets it with more stinging blows. My head sinks down and I raise my cheeks higher to meet her. Each pause raises my threshold as the endorphins start to rise. I want her touch too. I want to feel the heat of my wounds on her hands. She hesitates to strike and strokes my skin slowly with the tendrils of the crop. I tingle and twitch. My sex is moist. "Say yes." I do. I want more. Stroke me. Hard stinging blows. One.....pause...two, three, four...five, six....seven and I beg for relief, pounding the sides of that ridicuously small piece of furniture that I am balanced upon. I will not frank. "johnny" escapes my lips almost breathless and she does not let up. There is the slightest pause as if she heard me and then two quick hard strike against my cheeks. I feel her cock now between my legs and one slight push and she is in. I move back toward her and she holds me still, fucking my sex hard, pounding at once. The slap slap slap and I am writhing. My sex swells even further and I want it all. I want the crop again and her cock and I want to touch her honey skin. My head is swimming. I feel the rush and I put my hands against the floor to hold my body up while she pushes into me harder and harder. My legs start to feel the pressure and my knee gives out and I beg to turn over. She guides my head to her cock and I swoon. Greedy pig wraps her mouth around the dildo and slides down the shaft. The push from my mistress into my mouth again and again and I gasp. I take her in my hands and slurp down sucking. I lay back on the ottoman and she stands over my mouth, guiding her cock into my mouth, deep, deeper, gasping now. Again. Again. Now my legs are spread and she plunges again. I buck and then she flips me and I ride her bouncing with the tips of toes tapping the floor and then she is pushing me up and down....I clench my cunt and feel her movements. I think I'm ready to cum and she flips me again. "Show me your ass," is all she has to say and I get into position, on my knees, shoulders low, and my hands down, ready to be fucked. My sex is dripping and I think I'm going to squirt when I do cum. She hands me the vibrator and in two minutes I'm pulsing, throbbing, and then more splooshing and I want more and as she yanks at my hair, grabs my hips, pulls at my tits, I feel the wave rise again and a surge of pulsating energy and I am throbbing, throbbing, throbbing, I keep going, pulsing, throbbing and I think this must end but I'm still open and then I feel my sex tighten, and the deep throbbing goes on and on. I am giggling and smiling and panting. I want her more now. I want her between my legs, in my mouth, under my skin.
The camera has captured us. I feel taken. Lead into my role.
Her honey skin beckons. The light in her eye calls for playtime. "So what did you buy?" A simple leading question. The hosiery. The thigh high silky stockings with lace trim are chosen. She helps me fasten the corset and I put on the hosiery. She makes some adjustments and asks me to turn in the universal sign language for turn around. I stand and obey and feel naughty and slutty. Where is the boy inside me? Fleeing fast. I revel now in my girlyness. I confess I didn't pack my heels and she is up and comes back with boots, stiletto heels. She zips them up and I love how they feel. I strut and she chides slightly, "you are not getting any tips dancing like that." I work a bit harder.
I am just getting into the dance and she asks me to bring one item from the umbrella stand. I bring three. I want ALL OF THEM. The cane with its silver tips, a strong birch for the punishment and those cold tips against my warmed skin. I want the crop with its mini flogger that stings and tingles. I want the new boar bristled hairbrush while I am over her knee, intimate and close.
"Choose one." I opt for the crop. "Bend over." I move forward slightly from where she is sitting on the couch and bend down, reaching for my ankles, my legs slightly spread. She pushes me forward slightly and I stretch further down my legs...holding the soft suede leather of these boots and feeling how difficult it will become to hold this position once the crop starts to burn. The crop strikes once and I cry out mostly from the edge of anticipation. She strikes me again in succession a few times and I feel the sting. She touches my ass. I look back and she directs my face forward with the tip of the crop. I think she strikes me hard twice and then again in succession just slightly softer three or four times. I teeter slightly as my knees quiver. I feel her power and my sex starts to moisten. She positions the small square ottoman in front of me and leans me over it. "Show me your ass," she says and I happily lift it, climbing onto 16 inch square like a circus act. I am praised. "That's it. Nice." Her voice is starting to drop and I know she is aroused.
Downward strokes in succession feel as if my skin is burning. Hard stinging strokes to my hips, upper buttocks bring heated cries. She lets me breathe. Reminds me to lift my ass to her. My hips rise as she meets it with more stinging blows. My head sinks down and I raise my cheeks higher to meet her. Each pause raises my threshold as the endorphins start to rise. I want her touch too. I want to feel the heat of my wounds on her hands. She hesitates to strike and strokes my skin slowly with the tendrils of the crop. I tingle and twitch. My sex is moist. "Say yes." I do. I want more. Stroke me. Hard stinging blows. One.....pause...two, three, four...five, six....seven and I beg for relief, pounding the sides of that ridicuously small piece of furniture that I am balanced upon. I will not frank. "johnny" escapes my lips almost breathless and she does not let up. There is the slightest pause as if she heard me and then two quick hard strike against my cheeks. I feel her cock now between my legs and one slight push and she is in. I move back toward her and she holds me still, fucking my sex hard, pounding at once. The slap slap slap and I am writhing. My sex swells even further and I want it all. I want the crop again and her cock and I want to touch her honey skin. My head is swimming. I feel the rush and I put my hands against the floor to hold my body up while she pushes into me harder and harder. My legs start to feel the pressure and my knee gives out and I beg to turn over. She guides my head to her cock and I swoon. Greedy pig wraps her mouth around the dildo and slides down the shaft. The push from my mistress into my mouth again and again and I gasp. I take her in my hands and slurp down sucking. I lay back on the ottoman and she stands over my mouth, guiding her cock into my mouth, deep, deeper, gasping now. Again. Again. Now my legs are spread and she plunges again. I buck and then she flips me and I ride her bouncing with the tips of toes tapping the floor and then she is pushing me up and down....I clench my cunt and feel her movements. I think I'm ready to cum and she flips me again. "Show me your ass," is all she has to say and I get into position, on my knees, shoulders low, and my hands down, ready to be fucked. My sex is dripping and I think I'm going to squirt when I do cum. She hands me the vibrator and in two minutes I'm pulsing, throbbing, and then more splooshing and I want more and as she yanks at my hair, grabs my hips, pulls at my tits, I feel the wave rise again and a surge of pulsating energy and I am throbbing, throbbing, throbbing, I keep going, pulsing, throbbing and I think this must end but I'm still open and then I feel my sex tighten, and the deep throbbing goes on and on. I am giggling and smiling and panting. I want her more now. I want her between my legs, in my mouth, under my skin.
The camera has captured us. I feel taken. Lead into my role.
Friday, March 20, 2009
piggy slut/monkey slut
I think about sex constantly. I believe I was born a gay man and ended up a lesbian.
I love women. I like men. I could have ended up a bisexual and still consider it.
I loved having sex with men (at least the fucking part). Sex with gay men was a thrill and easy. I never had to worry about complicated good-byes or them falling in love or me falling for them.
Sex now is more complicated but I still desire it just as much. I have oral herpes which sucks if you are a lesbian but it's not the end of the world. I still like to fuck like a monkey and get fucked like a little piggy.
I am weaving it all in. I chat online anonymously and have phone sex with men. I fuck myself and vibrate myself til I can't do it anymore. I have casual sex with women I date and I fall for one or two along the way. I want my heart to be full too.
About three years ago I started playing with rope. It all started when I saw a woman tied up on top of piano about five years ago. The image stayed with me. At the time, I didn't know if I wanted to do the tying for be tied, but I know now that I prefer to do the tying. It makes me feel powerful and sexy. I could just stop after the girl is bound and just look at her and masturbate and be happy. Yet, somehow, they all want to be fucked. I oblige (such hardship for me).
I want more too. I want rough hard sex, submissive humiliation and domination, I want to meet someone else who enjoys it as much as I do and share that feeling. It's hard to switch but surely there has to be another monkey pig like me.
I love women. I like men. I could have ended up a bisexual and still consider it.
I loved having sex with men (at least the fucking part). Sex with gay men was a thrill and easy. I never had to worry about complicated good-byes or them falling in love or me falling for them.
Sex now is more complicated but I still desire it just as much. I have oral herpes which sucks if you are a lesbian but it's not the end of the world. I still like to fuck like a monkey and get fucked like a little piggy.
I am weaving it all in. I chat online anonymously and have phone sex with men. I fuck myself and vibrate myself til I can't do it anymore. I have casual sex with women I date and I fall for one or two along the way. I want my heart to be full too.
About three years ago I started playing with rope. It all started when I saw a woman tied up on top of piano about five years ago. The image stayed with me. At the time, I didn't know if I wanted to do the tying for be tied, but I know now that I prefer to do the tying. It makes me feel powerful and sexy. I could just stop after the girl is bound and just look at her and masturbate and be happy. Yet, somehow, they all want to be fucked. I oblige (such hardship for me).
I want more too. I want rough hard sex, submissive humiliation and domination, I want to meet someone else who enjoys it as much as I do and share that feeling. It's hard to switch but surely there has to be another monkey pig like me.
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