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!




She unlocked the door to the house, juggling three bags of groceries, her oversized pocket book, her library book, and her water bottle.

“why the hell don’t I just make two trips?” she muttered to herself as she wiggled the key in the lock. After two attempts, the lock finally gave, and, turning the knob she stumbled into the house.  As she lifted her arms to drop her load on the island in the kitchen, a strong arm grabbed her from behind. Before she could do more than freeze and begin to squeeze out a scream, a gag was shoved roughly into her mouth and some kind of dark, rough cloth bag was pulled over her head and tied rather tightly around her throat.

Hands grabbed at hers as she dropped her items, wrenched them  around even as she grabbed frantically at the ties around her neck, .  She heard and felt the metallic snap of handcuffs securing them firmly behind her.  Trying to scream, writhing and wiggling, she felt herself  propelled forward. A gruff, mean voice rang out,

“Don’t make me drag you, cunt, or you will regret it.”

Whimpering in fear, she grudgingly allowed herself to be pushed forward. 

“oh God”  she thought, “he’s taking me to the bedroom…” 

Crazily, her first thought was wondering if she’d remembered to put away all the toys that she and Marc  had used last night after she washed them this morning. Her thoughts were cut short as her captor twirled her around and shoved her backwards.

With an “oomph” she landed on her back on the bed. Struggling to rise with her hands pinned beneath her, she felt him straddle her, pulling her more to the center of the bed. She heard, then felt her shirt rip, felt him grabbing at her tits, squeezing her tender flesh, pulling and twisting her nipples until she writhed and moaned in pain and, humiliatingly enough, pleasure.

God, it was a fantasy come true. She wanted this, to have this stranger force her, use her, abuse her. And yet the fear swelled inside her. She could barely breath through the coarse bag, gagged as she was.

“Hot cunt,” she heard him hiss at her, felt the sting as he slapped her tits, and then again and again until she was wriggling around the center of the bed like a snake, trying to dodge blows she could not see coming. Her breasts were on fire, she could feel the heat raging through them, knew they continued to thrust up towards his cruel hands, her back bowed in this secured position.

Without warning he rose from her belly, and flipped her over. As welcome as it was to have the terrible pressure off her hands and arms, feeling his  knife against the skin of her lower back, caused fear to well up again, making it even harder to catch her breath. He began cutting through her thin cotton skirt.  As the fabric parted his hands roughly caressed her exposed flesh, cupping, squeezing, and pinching her rounded ass cheeks. He kept cutting. Pulling away the skirt, he cut through the waistband and back thong of  her panties and pulled them away with an abrupt jerk, causing her to moan as the fabric rubbed roughly against her clit. She could hear his heavy chuckle at her response.

“Hot for me yet, cunt?” he taunted her. Roughly his thick fingers explored her, pulled hard on her clit ring, eliciting another deep moan from her.

“What’s this?” he asked, grabbing the back of her head-sack and a handfull of hair, deeply arching her back with one hand, while the other kept pulling at the ring.

“fffffaaavve-inkg” she tried to speak, but the damned gag made it impossible.

He shook her head,roughly. “Slave ring? You’re a slave, cunt?!” he asked, incredulous.

She nodded as best she could.

“Well then, slave,” he said in the darkest, meanest voice she had heard from him yet,

“take this!” and he shoved his large hard cock deeply into her cunt.


Later, they held each other in the deepening night.

“That was the best scene, ever,” he raved, “you were totally freaked that I was a rapist, weren’t you?”

“oh yes, Master, ” she responded, tucking her head under his chin, stroking his large cock gently, “you’re the Best!”


She walked across the room to the bar. The crowd was the usual mix of S& M Folk…some Goth-garbed, some in Leathers, subs and Masters, a few slave wannabe’s, and a group of Doms on the far side of the bar, some working too hard on their Domly Face, as she called it, with an inner grimace.

God she hated this. Three Dom’s, three strikes, shouldn’t she be out now? Shouldn’t she be looking for Mr.  Vanilla Right?  She was an intellegent woman, good professional job, earned a good wage. Kept a nice condo downtown, and hoped for a home in the country, some day.

She dated a few vanilla guys after her last Dom and she parted ways, after he had turned out to just have anger management issues, and not just a Domly nature.  But…she wanted…no, she craved a man who would take charge of her, in bed and out. A Man who knew what He wanted, and was unafraid of what others thought of Him as He went after it. Sighing, she ordered a drink  and looked about the room.

He noticed her the moment she entered the bar. His head was back, swallowing the dark ale He favored, letting the full rich hops tease his tongue, and He nearly, almost choked on the last bit of it.

It was her.

He’d been to several of these gatherings over the last few years, and they always left Him feeling…needy. Oh, He’d found a few girls now and again, someone to teach and train and mold, but no one He felt connected enough to stay with over the long haul. Each of His former slaves had moved on to other Masters, Doms who reaped the harvest of His work. He didn’t mind, really, all  the breaks had been amicable, mutual, and unsurprising.

He had seen this woman before, had tried to get over to meet her, but she had been snatched up by others before He could make His move on her.  He pushed away from the bar and moved over to where she stood at the bar, watching the room.

From where she stood she could not see Him move up to her. She only knew He was there when He spoke softly into her ear.

“You’ve been here before, looking.”

A bit startled at His silent approach, she jumped, stuttering a bit in her reply,

“y-yes, I have…….” a long pause, He continued to look down at her, and she added,


He smiled. She looked up at Him. The noisy bar faded away, she was surrounded by the depth of His need as He gazed deeply into her eyes, reading her, assessing her….

“Will you come, little one?” He asked, gently.

She put her hand into His and He led her out into the night.

At His car, she was pushed forward, hands on the side of the door panel, able to see herself  and Him reflected in the window before her. She felt Him lift her skirt above her waist, rub His hands over her bare bottom.

“No panties? What a good girl you are already, ” He spoke quietly. “Such a nice, round bottom you have here, little one, ” and He gave her ass cheek a firm pinch. She jumped, but kept her position, arms slightly bent, bent at the waist, legs slightly spread. Anyone walking down the street would be able to see her ass, and perhaps her cunt as well. She could feel her cheeks begin to flush as the door opened at the bar behind them, people, noise and lights spilling out, further illuminating her bare butt to the world.

Catcalls and hoots erupted as the bar flies lurched past,

“nice ass, cute cunny”

“hey how bout some titties on display too!”

“i’da like to get ahold of some of that ass…”

The voices faded as they moved off, but her mortification was intense.

He continued to stroke her ass, smiling, she could see in the glass, a Cheshire Cat grin. He began to outline her cleft and she moaned deep in her throat.

“Like that, do you?” He whispered to her. He felt deep between her folds, to find her wet, aching cunt.

He pinched and prodded at her outer swollen lips, pulling them away from her body, stretching and twisting them. She gasped, wiggled her hips, but moaned as well. He continued playing with her for a few minutes, feeling her wetness begin to drip from her, and land on the pavement between her spread legs. Slowly he traced one finger across her cunt opening, dipping in a bit to gather the moisture there, up and around her cleft, missing,  just barely, her clit. A deep moan from her then, as she thrust her hips back to try to force His finger across her clit.

“No no, little one,”  He admonished, “it’s far too soon for that. All pleasure comes in due time, but for  now, I just want to get a feel for your sweet wet holes.”

His forefinger continued to slip up and down her slit, while his other hand pulled her pussy lips, one at a time. He would let his thumb brush her rectum pushing slightly against that tightly shut doorway.

His hands fell away from her cunt, and He pulled her back agains His groin, letting her feel His hard erection. Pushing her forward again, He turned her around, looked at her breasts, rising and falling quickly with the rhythm of her breath.  She thought He would touch her then,  grab at her big tits and squeeze, but instead He brought His moist hand to her mouth, sliding His fingers within, grazing her teeth, touching her tongue, her inner cheeks.

“Lick me clean,” He commanded, and she complied, tasting her juices on His fingers.

“Yes,” He murmered, withdrawing from her moist mouth, sliding His fingers across her face, hooking His thumb under her chin and raising her face to His. 

“Yes,” he said again,  looking down at her with a smile, slipping His hand behind her head to tangle in her hair. She smiled, a shy smile, and looked up at Him with the beginnings of adoration on her lovely face.