“Oops” is not in His vocabulary…


I had an “oops”…first time, ever.

Now, in my defense…it had been a verrrah long time between O’s. Eight days.

Yeah, I know for some of you that is nothing. Some of you go months….but not nilla.

Mind you, i am not judging you, really, but I totally don’t understand it, either…

I LOVE my orgasms, and the thought of living without them for extended periods makes me feel…sub-human. Not as in submissive, but as in less-than… and perhaps it is because of all the years leading up to my sudden acknowledgment that I *could* have an orgasm. I’d only had one or two in my life up until I was 49.  Learning how to touch myself, to fuck myself to a height of pleasure? That was an epiphany for me.

Then, as a collared submissive, understanding that my orgasms come at His whim…added heat to the experience. And He is admittedly generous with me.

But when He says “you may have 1.5 O’s, slut, and because I am in a generous mood, you may take the half at the front end”…it is not up for debate. It is not up to me to decide to change it around.

It is not up to me to have the full orgasm, first.

The idea is to remember that there must be obedience, first. He followed the first text with another that added a “generous dose of pain”…oh.. yummmy…

And as i affixed clamps to my nipples, and shivered as the heavy chain hit my belly with an ice-cold slap, i felt His hand there. I’ve not worn the clamps in a while..and my nipples protested.


And then to add more pain, i added clothes pins to my belly, around the muffin top. It’s harder to do that these days, and the pinch is worse now that my belly is tighter. (Talk about inspiration to NOT lose weight!! LOL!) (Don’t worry…I’m NOT a skinny minny, and never shall be..I’m just less jiggly these days 🙂 )

And with my favorite vibe, and trusted dildo, I set to work. OH, it felt so good to feel pleasure. The pain in my mouth slowly faded away as the pleasure of the pain and throb in my sex sent me spiralling into a place of intense sex-need.

I was wet.

I was turned on.

I was spinning a nasty little tale in my head, playing it out on my body. Tugging the chain and pulling my nipples, making pain the focus of my attention, even as my clit answered the pulsing beat.

I felt the wetness slipping from me, as I slid the dildo home, as I fucked hard, then slow, feeding slivers of pain through the pulses of pleasure.

It was erotic, it was hawt, it was wholly consuming. My entire body was caught up in the fantasy, caught up in the simmering sensations coursing through me. In the back of my head was that order from Master as I felt the groundswell of orgasm.

But hell, I’ve done it dozens of times now.

Stopped, right there at the almost-edge of cumming.

Stopped, right before falling over the edge.


I guess I was smug about it.

Ha ha ha.

I can do that, la la la la la.



Except this time I’d not cum in eight days.

Except this time, I’d been having vicodin dreams for a week, and a steady supply of pain, which while not erotic, must’ve keep my masochistic needs on “simmer” rather than “off”.

As that precipice edged closer, closer, I almost laughed. O, I felt so good, sogood. I was flying…high on the endorphin mix fed to my cunt, my nipples, my body.

I stopped fucking in the nick of time, laying the vibe at the top of my pussy, not on my clit, but at the very top of my slit.

It wasn’t far enough away.

The vibrations trickled through my flesh, tickling and setting off the fuse on the time-bomb in my cunt.

I lay there, gasping and craving the fulfillment…when it hit like a tidal wave. Engulfing my body, my legs curled up, my back bowed, and everything clenched, tight, tight, tight…and i exploded.

Something had gone horribly right...wrong.

This was an Oops of epic proportions.

He had directed the HALF-O…that fucking to almost-completion, and the throbbing after-effects of loss and incredible need…He had directed that to happen first.


My bad?

It didn’t, there in the pulsing after-wards…seem to be all that critical. Yeah. I know.

It was.

To compensate, as soon as i could breathe? I fucked right to that edge again, and stopped.

Half-orgasm, check.

Throbbing need, unfulfilled desire?


The text went out to Him, explaining that there had been an “oops”…and despite the 400 miles between us right then? I got an immediate “WTF? You’re in big trouble, slut”

So. Yeah.

No Orgasms for nilla for a while.

Okay, His exact words were “Your nurse will be giving you your next orgasm, slut. Providing, of course, that she can find your dried up, wrinkled pussy.”






7 thoughts on ““Oops” is not in His vocabulary…

  1. Poor baby…

    And i’m pretty sure that nurses don’t help folks have orgasms. You’d better hope that skill remains when other faculties have dimmed… lol.

    It’s a good thing you think denial is hast, right? Let’s hope he eases up after a while – maybe for Thanksgiving? That would be appropriate. Or Christmas at least.

    sympathetically yours,


    1. LOL! OH, funnah. By christmas at the least…but actually? Last night I got an o.

      I’m such a spoilt slut, really.



  2. ROFLOL! Oh, I don’t know anyone who has issues like that. LOL. Do they have an orgasm program under Medicaid? Your HMO?

    Or, is he hiring a nurse for your next playdate? Cause when he gets done with your ass, you’ll need one? Or…. is he…. (looking around to make sure Wolf is not around) is he dressing up as a nurse??? (running and hiding now!!!

    1. LOL!

      No he meant when I was an old, old OLD woman…but he relented and I did get an O last night…:)

      I love that guy.

      nilla, beaming

I'm so glad you took the time to leave some words!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.