Games of the Week

About 18 months ago, Master and nilla came )*( that close to breaking up.  I wasn’t happy, things weren’t going as I imagined they would and…yada yada…I’m not one to relive the past over and again. It’s done and laid to rest.

But born of those early days of reconnecting, some funny little traditions began to evolve.

For instance, for about 6 weeks things were super, über mushy. Like…teenagers in love mushy. I loved it. I love being loving. Love celebrating it, saying it…life is so fucking short, yanno?  But in time, we said it less. Well, okay, HE said it less. Not because He was not loving me… coz the love is still deep and true and full…it’s just not of the  “I love you, huggy Bear”  variety anymore.

You grok, right?

Right!

So, He is a Man.

Yeah, I know you know that. But…He’s a ….stoic kind of Man. Being all hearts and flowers and mushy just is NOT His style. I *know* He loves me. But He’s not gonna say it all the time. He just isn’t.

So…all that being said…one day He says “nilla, I’m not going to do this all the time. I love you. But …”

and I understood.

“But,” He is quick to add, ” I do think I’ll institute a day that I celebrate you. I know you have a hard day-to-day. I want you to feel that I love you.”

Thus came the birth of  “Like Day”….where Master sends me a beautiful picture with my morning email from Him…and Like Day is always Tuesday. It is the day that, unless I have totally fucked up, I get an O from Him.

Each of our other days of the week have certain special attributes. Wednesday is “Hump Day” and from that was born the avatar of “Humpthrees” the horny camel. “Humpthrees” sends me a greeting every Wednesday.

Thursday, ZNN and Friday (a continuation of  ZNN until FNF) came to be born the same way.

The only day of the week that didn’t have an attribute to it–a D/s, Master/nilla attribute, that is, is Monday.

He texted me about that, this  Monday morning. I thought about it for a few seconds and came to the immediate conclusion that Masturbation Monday had a lovely ring to it.

“Nice try,” He texts back to me.

 “No Fucking Way, nilla.”

*shrug*

Well…would you have expected any less from me? Right. Didn’t think so!!

A short while later I get another text from Him. Not a good sign. Monday is His late day at work, so He has found something to pass His morning with…me.  He rarely texts me out of the blue like this.

“P.I.” He says. “figure that out, nilla”

P. I. ???? WTF?  Perfect Insertion ??

funny, slut, nice try. No.

Pussy Inspection?  Poke Investigations? Pussy Intervention?

no.  no. and no.

Finally I wave the white flag and have to ask.

“Pain Infusion Monday”

?? I think. I respond after a few minutes:

“OOOOH…i kinda like Masturbation Monday myself, Master….just sayin’…”

“I thought you might…but NFW!”

I think about it for a while. And …finally…ask.

“and the more important question is…just how does that Pain Intensification work???”

“Infusion. Pain Infusion”

I heard the sigh there. Did you?  🙂

Later I get a text that He wants pegs on my muffintop (I hate that …He calls them my “kitties” and so shall I henceforth!) for the rest of the evening. I have to demur since I had an interview…I tried to text but by then He was in meetings. And then I was working alongside the wifey, and clothespins stick way out under your clothing and are very visible. So again I had to defer the timing.

But since I’m a good girl, I donned the pegs as soon as I came up here, and am in fact, wearing them while I write this… nearly 40 minutes worth. Ouch. And I texted Him that I owed Him some Pain Time.

He just texted me. His meetings will run late and He doesn’t want me to wait up for Him. We’ll talk “owed pain” later. Actually He said “settle up” later…which has just a slightly ominous ring to it doesn’t it? Makes me shiver a bit…and get wet, too.

I wonder if He knows that!

(I’m guessing He does!)

In my Thoughts

Some people send “Thinking of You” cards. Some people send letters. Some people send a pm on Facebook, or Yahoochat or Gmailchat. Some people send a text.

I send Him a text when I’m thinking of Him. Like when I’ve gone hours without hearing from Him…sound familiar? We are all really like this,  submissives. I’ve read it over and over again…in blog posts, in comments to blogposts…

Saturday my M was unreachable. Now, bear in mind we’d had a lovely FNF just the night before. But He’s *always* around on Saturday, and I had a bit of free time and I thought…I’ll call Him.

No answer.

I text.

No answer.

I text again. Wait an hour, call again. Text again. Then put the phone away in frustration.

That evening…no text reply when I go up to bed. First I’m mad. And then.

A wall of fear falls on me.

O gods….what if He’s ill? What if He’s had a car accident? My heart races. My pulse rate has me sweating, and I’m fumbling with the keys to type another text…”It worries me when You’re out of contact all day…”

About 40 minutes later I feel the vibe on my ass…a TEXT!!! He’s ALIVE!!!

CALL

Of course I call, immediately, and am His driving companion as he treks through the miles towards home. It’s 10 pm and I could not be happier. We talk and chat and it turns out he was in a meeting all day…and totally unable to respond to any of my attempts to reach out and poke at Him.

I think He likes that I need Him that much. I think He likes that most times I’m a pretty independent, capable woman…and that my need for Him brings me to my metaphorical knees when He has to (or just does because He can) take a step away and not talk with me.

This need thing?

I kinda like it. 🙂

 

Busy busy busy busy….

It has been a wicked crazy weekend here. Lots of company, LOTS of vanilla stuff…just flat out no time to blog.  Lots of ideas, just no time to sit and write, and this week is looking to continue being kinda busy for me.

Such is life.

It’s good busy, really. A trying “little” job for my work-at-home job, several job interviews, house stuff…you know how it goes.

And I got to see Master earlier today. It was a super, super short visit, just 45 minutes.  It was nice to see Him, touch Him, kiss Him. He always leaves me hungry for more. More. More.

I did, however, score heart-coup on Him…and honestly? Just now remembered as I was writing to you-all. I just called Him and told Him where I’d stuck it (on His back)… and my O was changed to

“left hand only, smartass”

 

(I’m still giggling about it, really…)

Good thing I decided to write a blogpost before bed tonight, eh Master? LOL!

 

Yanno, guys (and gals)…I’m hearing you. “But nilla, where’s the sexy stuff”…?

Okay, follow me.

Put your hand in your pants. Rub vigorously.

STOP!

That’s it.

That’s all you get. Now you see how little action nilla has had in the past 15 days…seriously…I’m in the middle of an orgasm drought! I get a little bit here and there but not enough to wipe out the drought. 🙂

But if you all cross your fingers (and maybe your toes) and clap really hard…no wait, that’s a different tale…just …cross your fingers…that countdown calendar on the sidebar may be way off…sooner, rather than later. And if that happens? You all will have a super-turbo-charged nilla to blow up the sexy air waves once again…

🙂

 

Masturbation Fantasy 3.5

for the curious who may wonder what nilla masturbated to on the night of  3-1/2 orgasms…..

“I know. I feel you. You want to not move, but you just can’t stop those hips from rising, can you girl?”

“I’m not laughing at you, just, you amuse me girl. I know, I took your speech. I didn’t want to listen to a shitload of bitching and whining and moaning. Well….okay, I don’t mind whining and moaning. I love that little whimper from the back of your throat when I press the vibe here.”

“mmmyes…yes, just like that, rise for it. You know you want it. You know you do. You didn’t think you would. It’s shameful, isn’t it? Your body betraying your mind like that? Your mind says no, stop, but your little clit, so small and nearly insignificant in the grand scheme of things, has full control over your body.”

“And it’s saying…wait…yes…I hear it purring. It’s saying ‘fuck my cunt. Please fuck me. Please fuck my hole.”

“You’re trembling. Getting close. Have you ever had an orgasm before? No? Well, then you’ll be in for a treat, eventually. Not just now, I think.”

The bed shifts. He puts away the toys. You feel the growl deep in your throat. So fucking close. To what, you don’t know. But whatever it was, you were poised right on the edge of it.

You didn’t want it.

You didn’t.

“I know, little girl, all stirred up now, aren’t you. But we’ve had enough of just fun. It’s only the very beginning of what I want from you. You’re mine now, to do what I please with. No one to come looking for you. There. I know, that hurts, that clothes pin. You’ve never had anyone ever put one on your nipple before have you? No, I didn’t think so. I love the fire in your eyes.  My cock is getting harder now, just looking at your nipple pincered by that wooden pin. And there’s a little furrow in your brow.”

“Hurts, doesn’t it? It builds up. First the sharpness as the pin bites, then that fades away. But it will start to grow again. You’ll want it off much sooner than I’ll remove it. Not to damage; I like your nipples, all sweet and pink.  Imagine, 20 years old and still so innocent. ”

The bed shifts again and he disappears into the darkened room. The light shines in your eyes and you can’t see past the bed. There is a rustle and you try to look past the glare of the lights.

You can’t see him. But you feel him watching you, the way a mouse feels when she sees the shadow of a hawk on the meadow floor. A shiver runs down your body, making your nipples rise in response. Pain. Sudden, shocking, as the one captured nipple responds to the pain of the arousal.  You want to ignore the answering beat between your open thighs. Yet, you cannot.

“Oh, yes, that’s going to hurt too. I see you are almost used to this one. Oh, how you flinch! It was just a little flick. This one is harder, don’t you think? Oh, listen to that lovely pain-sound in your voice. Poor baby. Hurt for me. I love to watch you hurt for me. Let’s add this one over here. You’ll be balanced now. But. You know. If the one nipple is already used to the pain…there isn’t a balance. I think you need a bit more hurt there to make it feel more aligned.”

“oh, yes. There is plenty of room here for many more clothespins. There’s a whole bag on the dresser. But two and one is nice…this time. For now. We’ll see how you please me this way, okay little girl?”

“No? No one will come you know. Oh, you think so? Daddy sold you to me for a bottle of tequila and two packs of cigarettes. He was half-gone when I made the deal. Doubtful he’ll even remember who asked him for you.  You can’t be happy there, with that sorry piss-ass drunk. I’ll take care of you, and you’ll learn how to please me.”

“oh, yes. Look. Your pussy is wet. Let’s see what happens when we vibe your little clit again, hmmmm? Oh….lovely. Nice. You feel it? How intense it is. How much you feel. And you feel  sexy, feel sexually aroused. You’re alive, girl. You feel.  In a way you’ve never ever felt before. You want to be fucked, now more than ever. Your pussy is drooling with lust. It’s begging, you know.”

The vibe presses, runs up and down the slit, teasing your hole, but never entering. Your hips rise, as the big rumbling thing heads back to the topmost junction, rubs against that tender, sensitive bud of flesh. You feel the ripple of it zing down the back of your legs, making your toes curl. It’s vibrant, electric, impossible to ignore. The pain in your nipples increases, throbs. Your clit matches the jungle beat from your tits, and you feel a need grow. You growl.

“Fierce little kitten, now. She wants. She hungers. Here pussy, I know just what you want.”

He drops his pants, and his cock springs free. Big. You had no idea they looked like that when hard. That they stuck out like that, that they throbbed and bobbed and leaked. The boys at school didn’t look like that. She and the other girls had peeked into the shower stall from the little crack in the wall in the girls locker room. They were little worms compared to this. She didn’t have a boyfriend. She was too busy helping Dad with the bar. A drunk, owning a bar. Dumb. Dumb.

Your thoughts zing around. Had you ever seen him in the bar before tonight? Had those eyes watched you with this intensity before now?

“I think it’s time for more. I am your teacher, and I feel your need to explore. To grow beyond the boundaries you didn’t even know were there. I want you to learn to please me. I will bring you pleasure and pain, and feed you both in measures to have you happy to lap at my feet. You are mine.”

He thrusts his cock into your soaked cunt.

You taste the word in your mouth, around the hard rubber ball he put in there earlier.

Cunt.

His hands fist around your tits as he drives into you. Your hips rise, begging. Harder. Deeper. Pain purples your vision, while pleasure rolls red through you. You hear your heartbeat in your ears, feel his pounding heart pressed against you as his cock sunders your belly. He stabs into you with ruthlessness, yet you rise again and again to it.

You explode, a thousand colors dancing in a kaleidoscope of swirled images inside your head. Your back arches, your fingers and toes curl, and you feel it.

Your cunt.

Grabbing him. Holding him. Sucking on him. You feel every muscle down there, refusing to relinquish him, as if he were the prize, and you the victor. Your orgasm spasms your belly, squeezes your anus, threatens to explode your tits.

Gasping for breath, the ball gag an uncomfortable encumbrance, you want to tell him what you think of him, for using you this way. You want to speak. But only your eyes can say it.

Thank you.

 

Orgasms!

Yes, He gave me three and a half orgasms the  night before last. I should have known that He’d carefully worded His text to exclude the “when” of the half-O. I assumed it was an oversight, and was prepared to take advantage of it.

And then my phone hummed against my ass (where I put it when I’m writing in my room so I can “feel” Him reach out and touch me, LOL). I picked it up, looked at it.

“Call.”

“oh crap,” I think. He has discovered the loophole.

But I suck it up and call, and we chat about the current drama in my life, which is keeping me from finding a day to have a playday with Him. I’m really trying to not be spazzy about it. But He needed to be brought up to speed. And I’ve so missed talking to Him;  we only spoke twice while I was in Florida, and our texting was limited as well. (The house was large-ish, but people liked my en suite bathroom and had no compunctions about coming and going through my room to use it…and I just didn’t want to get busted texting. And my sister, who came with us, has eagle eyes and sees and hears much.

Anyway…back the the ‘Oh shit” part of my story. 🙂

He likes to throw these little zingers at me at the last possible moment before we hang up. Aisha calls it “holding the tension”…which is what I’m doing the entire call, waiting, just poised there…and finally it comes up.

“I hope you didn’t miss my gift to you, little girl.”

*pause*

I wonder what to say. It was a gift? I know now that it wasn’t a “loophole” but intent. Like I should ever mistake what He does as intentional? What a dork I am sometimes!!

“Thank You, Master. I…..wondered.”

I hear Him smile a bit on His end of the phone.  “No, little girl, this wasn’t a mistake. It was a gift. A smart girl like you would take that half-O right at the beginning…but it’s up to you…”

Then I babble. Ohno, no, I’m happy, more than happy to do the half-part first. And He is amused by my obvious relief.

It was a lovely series of orgasms, and I was greatly relieved. Did anyone register an earthquake in the northeast Tuesday night? Oh, don’t worry…it wasn’t really a subterranean shift…just nilla bein’ the horny slut she is!

I’d have more to say…

but Master has given me three (and a half…that fucking half!!! Always a twist, that devious Man!) orgasms…

gotta go…yanno…follow instructions.

it’s a hard life, being a slut, but someone’s gotta do it, right?

 

*sound of wild laughter as nilla exits her blog……..*

Sticky Thighs

“Master, may I have an O?”

I wait, fully anticipating His “of course you may, slut. After all, you haven’t had an orgasm all week.  What a good little girl, and no whining, either. Of  course you can have one!”

Ha.

I must’ve thought I was still in Fantasyland.

“Nope. No. No way nilla.”

*stunned silence*

“w-what? M-master…..”

“Having trouble hearing, little girl? No. No fucking way. No O.”

“B-b-b-but….”

“But?”

His voice is silken, amused.

My voice takes on a wail of shock…”but Masterrrrrrrrrr….I haven’t had an O in 8 days…not since Sunday night…LAST Sunday night….”

“Not my problem.”

“B…but…”

No way was He budging on it, either. Once His mind is made up, it’s a done deal. I guess I like that kind of strength, that kind of authority.

Even when I really, really, really want an orgasm.

We talk for almost an hour, catching up with one another.  Finally He is almost home from His meeting, and it is time for us to “part company”.

“I want you to sleep deep tonight. You did a lot of stuff this week, and a lot of traveling today, and you need the rest.”

‘yessir’ I mutter.

“Hey, Master?”

“Hey nilla?”

“When did You decide that I wasn’t getting an orgasm? Today at work? After I texted You from the airport?”

He starts laughing.

and laughing.

“Oh, little girl. I decided that last week when you texted me that you were heading out to the airport.”

There is  a very long, silent pause.

He laughs, feeling my shock.

“I could hardly wait, knowing that you’d not have an O while you were in Florida.”

“But…I didn’t ask for one, Master.”

“Wouldn’t have gotten one, either. But that’s not it. You weren’t feelin’ it. I knew that. I did, however, know that once you got back you’d start feeling it. Start feeling the moisture, the need to blow the dust off that clit, creak open those rusty gates.”

“That once you got home, you’d have sticky thighs, and so much wanting, so much horniness you could barely stand it. A whole week away, too busy and tired to think about orgasms….but when you came home, you’d think about them.”

“A lot.”

“And now, now is when it’s really fun, little girl, to say “no”.”

 

Oh Mah Bags are Packed, I’m Ready to Go…

 

and soon I’ll be home again. Likely by the time you’re pulling into work, I’ll be up and away and jetting home.

Today was a quiet day. I’m really, really glad I built (insisted upon) a day of rest before we headed home. Kids were draped over the couch, took a break for a short pool time, then went back to the couch. I don’t think my wife fully understands how tired they get. We did a different theme park or place every day this week…

it was my Mother’s Day gift, to give me this one day to just kick back. And we are all much happier for it.

So, tomorrow I’ll be back. Nearer to my Dom. Back in my home.  Back to my wacky version of  “normal”…

and oh,

do I have some tales to tell…..