D/s and Real Life

I’m at that point where I can’t quite find the time, nor the energy for writing. I DO have tales to spin, and yet…it’s a dreary day here in the northeast and I find all I really want to do is curl up and read. And not naughty stuff, though I can have an O today (should I be inspired enough to want one. I know…I’m really that sleepy just now!)

What’s new to tell you of?




Which I know, is the epitome of boring…aka…—

yeah. Snooze-ville.

He was away this weekend past so no face time. My bruises have faded. (Pout) We *might* get some time this weekend upcoming but that’s forever away. And I’m tired. Did I mention that? It’s not subdrop, for I’m not depressed, not at all. I’m quietly happy. There just isn’t a ‘zing’ to energize me. Master is not a Dominant given to tasking me (or not often, anyway).   He mostly gets off on being in the same room and reaping the Dom-benefits of hands on work. He did give me a wee task last week and asked me to send pictures. I went one step further and videoed it which He *loved*.  He was glad that I’d thought to go a step beyond, and send Him something that would be sure to make Him smile (even as it made me wince.). It’s always nice to please the Dom, you know?

Oh, you want to know? About the task?  About the video…well, sorry, you can’t–at least about the pix…as it has too much face in it, so He could see the painful grimaces I made.

However–I’ll share what He had me do, how’s that? Since you asked, and so nicely too! 😀

I had to put on those thick clamps. Do you remember them? They look like this:

clampsThe chain is pretty weighty by itself, but He had me add the clamp in the middle that holds the magnetic weights…and i had to add 3 of the weights. Ouch.

Now, if you’ve been reading here for a long while, you’d perhaps remember that He gave me the clamps long ago, early in our relationship. And I had to wear them whenever I wrote my dirty tales. I won’t go so far as to say that I got “used” to them–but they didn’t kill me either. Back then I wrote every night before bed, sometimes for long periods of time. Obviously I wasn’t to keep them on for hours, lest I damage the poor nilla nips, but it was enough of a sensation to keep me constantly horny, always wet. Back then we also saw each other monthly, which was awesome. These days’ we’re more like an old married couple–the heat is still there, but it’s muted by distance. When we’re together it’s BOOM! and we’re back in heat…but apart, we just sort of roll along.


I had to wear the clamps.

and the weights.

And then I had to lean forward so my tits were hanging free, and smack the weight with the fucking pink hairbrush.

SMACK! JOLT! (swing, swing, swing, moan, groan)

Three times. Each harder than the last.

It was very painful. It was extremely thrilling. It was hawt. It was…really awesome.


I’m such a painslut.

And yanno what else?

It wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I got hungry and horny and lust-filled–and He left me hanging there (literally and metaphorically), having me pack up the toys and put ’em away, and “by the way, nilla–no O”.

I forget the why of it.

And it doesn’t *matter* the why of it.

Doing it, making it happen at His behest—was super-freaking-hot.

(just writing about it made me all hot n bothered again. 😀

But that was a week ago, and since then–well, you know how it goes. Life. He’s busy, I’m busy and I don’t think either of us is in our D/s role. He’d be the first to jump in here and say that He is always in Dom mode–which is true enough. I just don’t get enough time with Him to reap the benefits of it.

Hmm…re-reading that sounds like I’m pouting about it. I’m not, not really. Regretful, to be sure, but (glances over at ironing pile, thinks about the next laundry load, the sick kiddo on the couch in the next room, and the making of lunch and dinner…) you know how we ALL have to walk the line of vanilla and submission.

And I don’t know but perhaps–having such an intense vanilla life–if it doesn’t make those times when there IS submission special. I read of blogs where the day-to-day life of a slave is…hum drum. “Do your chores. Cook dinner. ” etcetera. Hell…that sounds like my vanilla life! As a submissive I *always* want more of His dominance. But I’m not a child at a cookie jar whining for more, more, more (mostly because the person holding the cookie jar away from my begging hand is not my Master, but myself {and wouldn’t Freud have a field day with that image?! LOL!})

Part of submission in my world is acceptance. I knew when I took that leap off the cliff that it would never be my full-time thing. I have a vanilla life that is precious and good. The fact that I wanted more…wanted something darker, meaner, rougher doesn’t preclude my responsibilities to that other life. And believe me, I struggled with that idea. For years. I wanted dominance full-time. I almost left my family. I wanted it so bad. But –I guess I grew up, with His help. I couldn’t leave my kids. I just couldn’t. I could not justify wanting to be spanked/fucked/beaten (aka my desires) versus fucking up their little lives. I’m not one of those who was in a dire situation and needed to get out and make a new start. And I’m not a person who will say “I gotta find my own bliss, sorry peeps, I’m outta here…” It is just not in me to do that.

Learning to be moderate about my D/s doesn’t quell the needs. Not by a long shot. But thankfully I’ve got a Master who understands both sides of my life, and who has His own busy life. And while I know He cares deeply for me, He is not looking for a full-time sub/slut. What we have here works for us. And yeah, it’s not exciting 98% of the time.

But that 2%?

Oh yeah. I love that time.



HNT…Chained to Him

Remember I was grumpy and whiny? Done and over once the tummy bug hit. Remember the update saying why I was grumpy and that things were better?


That means you’re all up to date. 🙂 I’m good. I’m almost 100 per cent good. Like..98%.

It’s that little 2% that is in my thoughts, the 2% that Master is holding in his hands.

My Orgasm.

See, I’m supposed to write an “Orgasm Report” after every O. And I’ve been amazingly diligent, sending them faithfully.

And He never…okay, perhaps not never, but rarely, responds. So…eventually I figure, hell, He’s not reading these fucking things. But I kept writing them because as a Dom AND as my Master?

He’s pretty fucking sneaky.

I may forget a lot of things, but I’ve never consciously underestimated Him. He is WAY smarter than I am, WAY better at this whole D/s dynamic, WAY better at “getting” me than I get me.

So I plug along, writing the reports. Some are dry, a recitation of the mechanics. What toys, the feelings, etc. Some – well – even for *me* it’s embarrassing to let my deepest fantasies out to Him.  But once in a while I’ll post that to Him.

But this morning (Wednesday) I forgot. I was feeling pretty blucky when I first crawled out of bed. This stupid virus thing isn’t about heaving, but just a queasy belly, and headache and dizzy, and just feeling blerg.

So I forgot to sit down and write my o report, which is a shame because it was a pretty fucking awesome orgasm. No squirty (this seems to be the new female orgasm achievement, Jz mentions it here in her hysterical post, and you really should go read it…) but it was one of those whole-body pulsing rip-roaring orgasms that sent me right to sleep afterwards, with a big-assed smile on my face.

Until, you know, the whole wake-up-in-the-wee-hours-of-the-morning thing.

So dammit, I forgot.

It’s a valid excuse.

Note the word choice there. Excuse. It’s not really a reason. There is no reason why I couldn’t write the email. I commented on blogs, I wrote on facebook, I even wrote my mini update.

But I didn’t write that fucking email.

And tonight I spoke to Him. I asked Him if I could have an O, since tomorrow is the ever-dreaded ZNN.

“I don’t believe there was an O-Report in my “in” box today.” He says.

“I had no idea You read those, Master.”

“I couldn’t read it. It wasn’t here.”


“I wasn’t feeling very good this morning, Master.”

“And I’m sorry you were unwell. But there is no O report in my in box. So no, you may not have an orgasm tonight. I sit here, and know eventually you will fuck up, nilla. You’ll get lazy or bored or something…and you’ll find out that I’m still sitting here and watching you.”

Now, doesn’t that make my little submissive heart go pitter-patter? I mean, my gawd…He’s watching. He’s paying attention. Even when I think maaaybe He’s forgotten He owns a needy slut. I got goosebumps when He said it.

And dammit, I really wanted that O.

But I really want Him and His approval, and to please Him, more than my own selfish pussy.

Here are the two pix I sent Him last night before and after the wonderous O…they are NOT an O report, but a …um…well…you know.

A tease.


First, the offering:


and then the afterwards…chain

They won’t “buy back” my missing O…but I’m sure He’s got it filed away somewhere under “nilla fuck-up number XYZ”.

That’s okay.

He’s watching. He’s spinning His web. He’s holding me, binding me, in these invisible chains.  I’m good with this. Because it means that I’m His, that even when I don’t see or feel the clamps or the weight of the chains…they’re still there.  And every once in a while He’ll pull them tight, and remind me of their presence.

The Pain Thing

He’s been tasking me with a few painful things of late. Nothing that, on the surface, seems all that painful.

But fuck yeah.

Two nights ago, i was to clamp my spare tire, affectionately dubbed “the kitties”, which is a work in progress to get rid of, coz really?

it’s a toy for Him.

a target.

a handle.

All, verrah dangerous. That Man has a grip like…like a steel trap. He’ll grab my middle and of a sudden, i’ve risen to my tiptoes without the benefit of high heels.

Now, i’ve lost a lot of weight, but that tire is still there, a bit flabby and rather unattractive (who looks in a magazine and goes, whoa, isn’t that spare tire on that woman sooo sexah? Right. No one. )

So i’m working on toning it and it’s not happening fast enough for me.

Back to the task.

You know my clamps with the rubber mouth right? The ones with the heavy chain that He’s not put on my nipples in ages, right?

He sends me a text and says…”you get two O’s tonight, little girl, pins on nipples (clothespins, not safety pins, LOL!) and clamps on kitties…place one vertically, and one horizontally…”

And i stop there and reread. And text Him.

“‘seriously? Really Master? Clamps? on my ‘kitties’…??”

“I’m not fucking around here nilla. Clamps on the kitties.”




So there you have it, a complete visual of “clamped kitties. And yes, it sure as fuck hurt!!

My orgasms that night were, how should i say it? Hmmmm…

Spectacular? That’s almost an understatement. Certainly, ‘explosive’…definitely a WOW of epic proportions.

Then of course, the clamps had to come off. And i so didn’t want to. OMG, it hurt. I’m still bruised, days later.

Somehow, He’s turned my sexual beast on so much that i’ve spent days being really, really turned on. Like, even more than usual, turned on.

i know, can you imagine? *laughing*

The next night i get His O instructions for the night. Usually after a very intense O session, He’ll back off and make the next night “o, lite” which only cranks up the volume for me.

Not last night tho.

Last night was “same as the night before, but switch sides with the clamps”…so instead of clamped kitties on my right side? They were clamped on my left.

For what-evah reason, the left side hurt way more. Like from the moment i put them on.

i reached into my little peg-box and fished out my clothespins. Now, bearing in mind that i do this in the dark, and that some of my pegs are old and very tight, and some are younger and ‘gentler’…what do i manage to pull out?

On my right nipple, soft and tender, the peg nipped at me, then settled into a delightful soothing squeeze. And on my left nipple, a fucking oldtimer, biting into my nipple like a horse grabs an apple.

Fucking A Ouchies!!!!

And all focused on my left side. And i start to perform as He directed me, and i cum right away the first time (the night before took quite a bit of work for the second O, close to 30 minutes, hovering on the edge, dying to fall over…).

The second O comes fast. It’s powerful and very intense, and i squirt. My side is throbbing like a bitch, my nipple aches, and i’m rolling on my bed in an excess of sensation.


Now i have to take the clamps off, and i’m shaking from having two O’s back to back…it took less than 10 minutes for both.

Off come the pegs, the gentle one first, then the painful one.

i wait for the slap of pain…and it is a wave that makes me stagger back a step…except i’m laying down…but that’s what it felt like, a punch of pain.

And i dread taking off the clamps.

i *know* it’s gonna kill to take them off.

It does.

The first one comes off like i’m taking flesh with it…and i’m moaning and kicking my feet a bit….and i pull, gathering up the chain with my free hand, and release the other clamp….

oh my fucking GAWD… GAWD… GAWWWWD…

and suddenly i’m having *another* orgasm!!! Squirting and intense and wicked and omg, omg, omg…

and i’m fretting because he had said TWO orgasms, but this, this was out of my control.

i don’t think i’ve ever had an orgasm from pain alone. Not without penetration or some other stimulus….

and this was *wicked* intense.

Grabbing my phone, i called Him (i’d just been on the phone with Him 15 minutes prior)…and He’s all “what nilla…” and i’m gasping and crying a bit with the force that is still shaking through me…

i’m not sure i made sense to Him at first, but then He gets it, connects the dots, and He laughs.


Ha ha?

This is funny?

And He tucks me into bed, and orders me, softly and sweetly to’ go to sleep now, little girl’…and that is the last thing i remember ….

i guess i feel like i crossed some big milestone…i always knew i liked pain, but to cum with pain alone?

i guess i’ll need to do some more processing of that one…as will, i’m sure, Master.