Last Week of Q and A!

Last week, aisha asked me a question, and I’ve put off answering it because I wanted to really think about it. She wondered:

What is your favorite BDSM activity or concept?

It was that last word that really captured my attention. The first part brings up a virtual laundry list of  “wants”….and I guess the second part does too, though in a somewhat different way.

The list of  “What i Like” is  …….really? Just about everything.  Nipple clamps, and spanking. Biting. Blindfolds and rough sex. Forced orgasms and orgasm denial. (there’s an oxymoron, eh?!) Face fucking. Golden showers. Anal sex. Butt plugs and vibrators. Being slapped in the face. Hair pulling and pussy spanking. Oh did I say spanking already? Silly (greedy) nilla!

Of everything though, to narrow it down to my absolute favorite activity? I love being subdued, physically controlled. Master will grab me, and hold me down while he “contains” me.

It’s vulnerability, isn’t it? I like to feel vulnerable to His desires.

Concepts are bigger D/s choices, i think.  Do I want to be a slave? Do I want to be His whore? Concepts, as relates to BDSM,  are things I think about as  “what-if things” … things that in reality I am not always sure if I would/could  do, yet  the idea of them …turns me on.

Concept:     Being a fuck-toy.

And it’s true, I do get off on the idea of multiple usage.  Would I really, really, really submit to someone that completely? Or is it just a fairy tale? At the very least, it’s a hot and wicked  masturbation fantasy!

Concept:  Slavery.

I am rather fascinated with the idea of sexual slavery.  But the fact is, that it won’t work in my situation, so why dwell on it.  That’s not to say if Master and I lived together that it wouldn’t work then. But the reality is, it doesn’t work for now. In many ways we practice a form of sexual slavery, despite the distance between our homes. I don’t cum without His permission. I don’t do many things without His permission, and perform other tasks at His behest. He doesn’t, can’t, control every element of my day-to-day…but what control He does exercise? I savor.

One last one now…

Concept:   Pain-slut

I’ve chosen to put this as a concept… but in my case, it really is more than just a concept. It is something I fantasize about all the time. And it is something that He delivers whenever we are together. This is one Concept, that for me is also a reality. If He and I were together all the time? I’d be perpetually bruised, perpetually poked and prodded by Him (we’ve talked about it in an offhand way from time to time)…and I would *love* that.  For me pain is becoming more of a lifestyle thing. Even my every day pains are not unpleasant to me.  I stub my toe, or hurt my finger, and there I am pushing and tweaking it days later.

Pain is definitely something that gets my motor humming. I will squeak and wiggle and moan and whimper…but.

My pussy always gets so wet.

My need grows and grows.

And I have, on several occasions, cum just from the pain alone. It’s a powerful thing, to have an orgasm because (not despite) someone is hurting you.

Is this sane and safe?

Maybe not.

I walk around in a pain-haze for days after a playdate. Moving my arms, or sitting, or any one of a hundred little movements bring pain. Sometimes enough to bring me near to tears.

And is that sane?


I dunno.

I do know that  it feeds me. Fills me. Makes me wet and warm and wanton. And…my need for pain dovetails so perfectly with His need to deliver it.

To control it.

To control me.

With this consensual mutualism…well that’s not exactly the right word, as we are the same species…but the idea is there…

We need each other—and because of our mutual, opposite needs…. Master and I are a perfect fit.

He needs to control. He needs to hurt someone. He needs to be in charge.

I need to be controlled. I need to be hurt. I need to give up my controls to someone who will…

You see how this feeds, one into the other?

This is the best part of BDSM for me…that we feed each other perfectly…yin and yang, light and dark, pain and pleasure.


aisha. I hope that answers your question! (Maybe more than you ever wanted to know, eh?!)


Master has tasked me for the last few days with …a task that i am not at liberty to explain. Not one word may I tell of it until Wednesday.



This is the last week of  Question Month…but you know if ever you have one, feel free to shout it out!



Q & A ~ and a story, too! (Don’t)

Thanks to faithful who asked a question:

is your Master married? Has he ever been?

Just so you all know, I have asked for and received permission to answer that.

Yes, Master was married, for a long time. He was divorced for 3 years when we met. There is no other woman in his life. He would tell you there is “no woman” in his life at all, just a pesky slut! It is a prime insult when He tells me I am being “womanish”. But that’s a whole other topic, right? *grin*

Thanks for asking us, faithful. And if anyone else has a question for Q & A month, there’s still time to ask me.  Don’t be shy. If you’re too personal I’ll tell you to fuck off.

*pauses for effect*


I won’t! I really won’t.

Okay. Maybe I would. But you guys know I am pretty much an open book, right? So…ask away. I promise to not bite you. How’s that for fair? *Laughing*

Okay, I’m feeling so. Much. Better. I wrote THREE stories today. I’m giddy with the happy of that. Get comfy, and enjoy the first one;


She wanted to swallow the word.

Really wanted to pull it back, reverse time, suck the word back into her stupid mouth. He stared at her. His mouth wasn’t agape, but it may as well have been. It would be hard to imagine which of them was more shocked by the “don’t” that had slipped off her tongue, landing in the space between them like a black hole of doom.



He took a fistful of hair and pulled her to the corner. Whimpering, she put her face against the wall. She knew that being silent was her only hope at this point.

He used corner time as much to cool down his impressive temper as to teach her a lesson. They’d worked out much during their time together, but her mouth was still her worst enemy.

She felt him behind her, then the cold moistness of his finger pressing against her anus.

He was going to put the plug in anyway. “You’ve given me a wonderful idea, slut. I need a bit of time to set up, and then I’ll be back to collect you. Until then, hold onto this for me.”

She felt the pressure against her butthole, then the pop, as a bead went into her ass. Oh fuck! Each bead was bigger than the last. She wondered which one he’d stop at. They’d never made it past the third one.


He pressed hard and the third bead popped inside her. It felt like a fucking plum inserted in her ass! She whimpered again, shuddering as he pressed upwards.

“Take it. Stop fighting it, press down like you’re taking a shit.”

She didn’t want it. Didn’t. In her head she was whining “don’t, please don’t.” She knew it was her hangup and not any fear of true damage. He would hurt her, but never harm. She had such anal fear. It had become his challenge to break through the fear and into something better for them both. He took her to dark places at times, her Sir.

With one last hard push the fourth anal bead was up inside her rectum. She couldn’t stop the small moan of pain. He swatted her ass, a silent message to be a good girl and get over it. Not that he minded her tears, he’d told her many times.  Those glistening silver drops were like nectar to him, he’d said, licking a tear off her cheek. That had irked her…and turned her the fuck on. That she had so little control over his desires was one of the key reasons she embraced being a submissive in the first place.

She heard him rummage in the toybox, then his receding footfalls. She wondered what the fuck he was doing. Torn between curiosity and worry, she almost forgot about the beads in her butt.

The sound of his return made fear and lust coil in her belly.

He turned her around, and immediately clamped her nipples. The clamps were the thick heavy pair. They bit tight and made her cry. He usually liked to stick them right on the edge of her nipple so that any movement would make them pop off.

Which always felt like her nipple had been torn off.

This time the rubber teeth gripped tightly over her full nipples. It was painful, and set her clit to throbbing gently. She loved having her nipples clamped during sex play. The heavy chain swung between her tits like a silver smile. Hooking it in his finger, he pulled her out of the bedroom, down the hall, and into his office. Leading her to the far wall, he bid her to stay and not to fucking move.

She stared at the hook where he usually hung his suit coat when he was working in here. She wanted to turn around but she was already down for one huge mistake. Disobeying a direct order would get her ass whalloped for sure. She could hear something scraping on the floor behind her, and the curiosity was eating at her.

What the fuck was he doing?

“Up on your tiptoes.” His finger hooked into the chain, lifting it up and over the hook on the wall.

“Hands behind your back.” She didn’t want to. Didn’t want to give up that last bit of control, yet her hands settled at the small of her back almost without thought. She felt the roughness of the velcro against her skin as he wrapped the bondage wrap around her wrists.

She cried out as he tugged the anal beads from her ass. They hurt a lot more coming out!  In seconds, she felt something even bigger replace them.

“This is quite the predicament for you, slut. If you settle back onto your feet to give them a break, you’ll push more inches of this big rubber dick up your ass. You remember Fat Freddie…you had quite the giggles about it when I ordered it.”

She swallowed hard. She did indeed remember the dildo she’d nicknamed Fat Freddie. It looked like a man’s hand, ready to fist. He’d told her that someday that dildo would be in her ass or her pussy as he fucked her, double stuffing her.

“Of course, you’ll also increase the pull of the clamps. Eventually they will pull off of your nipples, and we both know how much you enjoy that, don’t we, slut?”

She shook her head. She did not like that, not at all. He laughed. The bastard. Her feet cramped and she lowered just a bit. Since he’d stuffed the first few inches in her ass, it didn’t seem that bad. Apparently she’d forgotten how wide the fucking dildo got. The pain in her tits and ass grew exponentially. She rose back to her tiptoes. The relief to her nipples and ass was compounded by the ache growing in her toes.

Oh fuck!

His hand reached around and she caught the flicker of movement, seconds before the vibrating massager pressed against her clit.

“Are we having fun yet, bad slut? Don’t tell me you’re not…” His voice tickled her ear.

Oh fuck, oh fuck! Yet, wisely, she chose not to answer.