Warmth on my face, or “WWMD?”

I recently had occasion to remember basking in the warmth of G’s love and approval.  Oddly enough, I was doing the routine maintenance of cleaning the pool, using the vaccuum thing to suck up small leaves and detritus from the bottom (damn tree!!).  This takes some time, but I actually enjoy it for the most part.  It’s a mindless chore, and I usually drift away and think while doing so.  On this day, I was home alone, and have felt so restless lately, well… my mind has been wandering.  My thoughts went to G, and times when he would have me maintain his hot tub.  I thought, if he were here, What Would Master Do?  I decided, and believe me, I know this, that he would first order me to wear some sort of clamps on my nipples while completing my chore.  I had nothing of the sort handy, but noticed the nearby clothesline in the (fenced-in) backyard.  I got out of the pool, retrieved 4 of the wooden pins, then got back in the pool.  I lowered the top of my one piece, attaching one pin directly to the end of each chilled nipple, and another pin in the position of my choosing.  I was always required to place whatever pin, clamp or other device directly to the end of the nipple, always there first.  I chose to place the two remaining pins directly on the nipples, I suppose in his honor, nevermind that it was excruciating at first.  And even though I was standing in approximately 4.5 feet of water, I know that it immediately made my pussy wet. 

As I noted, our entire backyard is fenced in high, taller than I am, and 3 sides of the pool are also hidden from view of the street or the neighbors.  There is however a side of the yard and pool that could be viewed by only one neighbor, if he happened to wander by… anyway, with my nipples pinned, the weight of the water pulling on them as I cleaned, my heavy breasts moving in the water, I heard him,  “You may want to get your chore over with, but I advise you to clean this pool well.  If you hurry, and I find one leaf in this water when I enter, you will be punished in a way that you will not soon forget.” 

I did take my time, and I wanted so bad to feel more pain, not just this little twinge on each cold-numbed nipple. As I slowly covered the area of the pool, first with vaccuum, then with the net, I remembered his hands on me, caning me over and over, flogging me the first time and sending me off into space.  I remember the huge black dildo that I thought would surely rip me apart.  With his guidance and unflinching gaze, I was soon fucking that dildo like it was the last cock I might ever see, and loving it entirely.  I remembered doing everything he asked of me, anticipating what he did not ask, and always, always needing him to bring me back to his side.  As my mind drifted back under his hand, I found the water return jet on the inside of the pool, pumping clean water back in at quite alot of force, and I positioned myself in the path of the jet, focusing it just near my clit… I remembered his eyes, his hand holding my hair, pulling roughly back so that I could not would not look away when he gave me permission… and saying, “yes pet, come NOW”.  And ohgod, I did, and I moaned aloud, neighbors be damned.  As I came, I turned my face to the sun, and I felt the warmth on my skin.  It felt just like his gaze when he said “good girl…good girl”.

On waking from sleep

Recently I found something that served to re-light a fire within, or at least brought it to smoldering again.  I go through these stages now and again, and I am not sure why.  When I stumbled upon this blog, the words just took me away.  The writer makes me remember what I had and could still have, makes me long for the other half of my life in which I am cherished, taught, trained, loved, punished, and rewarded.  I miss this, and again, have put the longings to sleep for too long.

I have doubts on whether I can really call myself a submissive since I have been denying it for the past while.  It took many years to discover what/who I am, but I know now.  I am submissive, masochistic, with interests in many different things.  But if I am not allowing myself to indulge in my inner needs, does that mean I am a fake or a “wannabe”??  There are things I have discovered under the hand of Master G, and there are still many things I want to learn and explore under his hand or the hand of another.  However, I still have not been able to come to grips with the married woman’s guilt I feel when I am with Master G or any other man, even though in doing so, I am fulfilling my heart’s desire.  This struggle has gone on inside me for so long, and I sometimes wish I had never had the realizations that I have had.  Would life have been easier if I had never owned my submissiveness? Maybe.  The choice now is to either be fulfilled or not to be.  Seems like a no-brainer, doesn’t it?

Sudden Obsession

Lately I’ve been obsessed with watching porn, and finding more sites where I can do this.  Not just any porn, mind you.  I want to see women bound, gagged, hurt… you get the drift.  Normally, I have a site or two that I check semi-daily, and a few blogs that I read religiously, so that I can live vicariously through others, but lately I seem to be hungry, starving, for much more than that… Words, and the way that they are used, turn me on.  I am not that visual, and I have always thought that was more a guy thing, needing to see it, rather than being able to visualize it.  But now I am wanting the visual along with the mindfuck that is created from reading the thoughts of others.  

Now, what to do about it?  When I get like this, and I do every now and again, I invariably end up contacting G, telling him that I feel as if I am empty and needing.   He is always happy to hear from me, even though we have had no physical contact for well over a year.  And without a doubt he is able to provide something that is not available in my own household.  It is very selfish of me to think of him as an “option”, but he is that, and much more.

Something else is happening.  I rarely fantasize about men, especially your garden-variety guy next door.  That guy is not nearly as dark, brooding, or sadistic as I need him to be.  Lately though, I am imagining 1)  My son’s little league coach.  He is a gorgeous man, tanned, athletic, and even from the ballfield, I can tell he has a somewhat dominant streak.  I would love to get this man alone, and find out just how dominant he really is.  2)  My son’s assistant ball coach, who also happens to be his Boy Scout den leader, for god’s sake!!  I see this man as a challenge. He appears to be very proper and staid, is clean-cut, always freshly-shaven- you get the picture.  He is a tall, lanky man who holds a prominent position in a local business.  I would like to get under that proper outside image, and see what is there when the door is closed and the real man can emerge.  If the real man, is that squeaky clean, I would so love to corrupt him.  To make that fantasy even more vivid, this man and his family used to live in the house that I live in now, so I have no problem seeing him in my/his bedroom, in the pool, in the shower… <sigh>.  And, 3) and perhaps the oddest yet, I have recently been on several phone calls with a national internet provider, getting my home office set up and running, and each time have spoken to a man named Norm who is in Buffalo,NY.  This man’s voice could melt butter over the phone.  Listening to him, I could barely keep my mind on the matter at hiand.  Obviously, I know nothing about him, and his name may not even be “Norm”, but the banter between us was exciting and there was a connection felt mutually, I am sure of this.  He kept advising me that he could say very little on the business line that we were on, but had much more to say if only he could do so.  He called yesterday morning to make sure my office internet was in order.  All he said was “Good morning” with that voice, and wow….I wanted to fly to Buffalo.  In retrospect, I’m thinking I should have offered him my email address, and took it from there.  I wonder if I should call him back on Monday, with some odd internet problem?  Maybe disconnect it, and let him troubleshoot me for an hour or so?  Hehehehe

 

   

Still here…

but nothing to write about.  My creative juices have dried up for the time being…

Sigh…

I’ve calmed down.  I still want him badly and don’t know what to do about it.

…and up go the walls

We found each other online just now.  Ok, we were looking for each other, let’s be real here.  We’re chit chatting about the weather today and meaningless bullshit like that, feeling each other out after last night’s conversation.  Saying anything that will not acknowledge the elephant in the room.   

I feel myself holding back from him, wanting to hurt him for making me cry last night.  I’m such a bitch.  This man only wants to give me what I have told him for 5 years that I need, and he speaks what we have both been thinking, and I am angry?  I want to yell at him that he doesn’t understand, that my heart feels like it is being ripped out of my fucking chest, that he doesn’t know what he is asking of me.

Agony

He understands me.  He is funny, strong, discrete, a gentleman. He is also demanding, loves tears of pain, is an unapologetic bastard from time to time. He wants me.  We have gotten so close over the past five years or so, that it is time to stop playing.  His words, not mine, but I know what he means and why he says it.  He is a widower; I am married.  Therein lies the problem. I know if I am with him, I will love him for the rest of my days.  Hell, that is probably already true.   

Why am I doing this again? Because I can’t deny what I need, who I am.  But I can’t get so deeply intertwined with someone like this again without being willing to do something about it.  It’s not fair to me or him.  It hurts my heart to want him so bad but not be with him.  Out of guilt, responsibility towards my marriage, or whatever other fucked up reasons I have floating around in my fucked up head, I have felt so far that I cannot do this behind my husbands back.  I did once before (well actually several times but with the same man, ‘G’), and part of the reason we are not together now is due to my inability to live with myself while cheating on my husband.  The other part was that G turned out to be incredibly self-centered and immature, but that’s another post. 

Why am I married? Because I love my husband… Because he provides security… Because he has never laid a hand on me in anger…  Because it would kill him if I left him.  I am not thinking myself indispensable here; he has said those very words to me, and has already had two heart attacks. I am literally afraid it would kill him…  Because it’s easier to stay here in relative comfort with a man who doesn’t have a fucking clue how to wield a cat o’ nine or use me like the slut that I am, than to go out into a future with man who knows exactly what I need to be fulfilled.  Fulfilling my destiny is a scary fucking thought, and I am a fucking coward. 

He (”HE”) said it just this evening as were talking online… ‘you have loved me for years, and you know it’.   He is not pushing; he is hurting.  He wants me and I haven’t allowed him to have me.  His heart is in agony, and so is mine.

I want

I’ll continue with “My Awakening” later… that’s a recollection about time spent with someone from the past.  Someone who molded and shaped me, but in the past neverthless.

The “him” I am now wanting so badly is someone who I’ve talked to for years but to date have never met…yet he seems to know me almost better than any other man in my life.  He knows what I need, and he warned me against marrying a man who doesn’t know.  He was right.

My god I want him, I just want him so fucking bad.  I want his hands all over me, his mind wrapped around mine.  I know exactly what it would feel like to fuck him, to have him inside me, deep within my mind and body and blood.  I know because I feel like he’s already there.  I want him so bad…I want him to call me his bitch his slut his whore.  I want to excel at being all of those and more for him, and for myself.  I want him to give me the pain that frees me, that will make me less me, that binds me to him.  I know he can… I’ve seen pics of his toys, his whips, crops, canes, and oh that beloved cat o’ nine.  I want his large strong hands around my neck, I want them to pull my hair as he fucks me unrelentingly.  I want his mouth all over me, biting my neck, my nipples, my inner thighs…draw blood and taste me, really taste me.    I want his cock in every place it will humanly fit.  I want to suck it, fuck it, let it stretch me until I feel he is fucking my insides.  I want him to make me his in every possible sense of the word.

 I would do damn near anything with/for this man.  I want to eat him, drink him, breathe him.  I want him.

My awakening

He called and said,”It’s time, don’t you think?”   G and I had been talking for several months, and had been together a few times at this point.  He had been very patient and understanding, knowing I was coming to terms with my desire to fully submit to Him, yet struggling with the fact that I am married to another.  We had progressed in baby steps, he being gentle but firm, telling me what was expected of me when I felt ready to give him control.  G always has known me better than I’ve known myself, so when this question was asked, I knew I could trust his instinct.

I said, “Yes Sir, it is time.”  From him- ” Good, pet.  I will be leaving instructions for you on the kitchen table.  Please let yourself in, peruse them, and do as I ask.  I expect you in position, at the foot of the bed, when I arrive home from work.  I will call to let you know I am on my way.”   

I had arranged the entire day off work, but left home in the morning as usual.  I was so nervous and excited, afraid to disappoint G, but also feeling more alive than any time in recent memory.  At that time,I still smoked, and during the 45 minute commute, I believed I must have had half a pack.  I arrived at G’s, and let myself in, schmoozed with his dog, and noted that he had left a porn DVD running when he left.  The woman on the screen was being viciously fucked in the ass by a black man with a huge cock, and she was screaming in agony/ecstasy.  On the table were my instructions:

Pet,

I am so very glad you’re here.  My home needs a good cleaning today, and I expect you will do a very good job with it.  Follow the below instructions, in order, with no deviation, and you will be richly rewarded.  Do not touch the DVD player except to change movies.  You can watch, but be mindful that you have time constraints.

By the way, there may be someone stopping by to check on you today at some point.  If so, I expect you to answer the door, be courteous, and comply with whatever request(s) they may have  with no argument.  Your behavior will be reported back to me, so make me proud, my dear pet. 

1)  I have laid out your attire for the day, on my bed.  I have chosen the fishnet catsuit, crotchless, of course- the one with the breast cutouts.  Put it on, and also insert the anal plug that accompanies it.  Don’t forget the heels.  Do not for any reason remove the plug or the heels until you are given permission.  After you are dressed, I want you to masturbate for exactly 10 minutes.  DO NOT CUM.

2) Once you are dressed properly for the day, feed and water my dog.

3) Vacuum all floors.  Sweep and mop the kitchen floor.  Apply the nipple clamps I’ve laid on my dresser top.  The chain is heavy, but not so much so that you will be in agony.  Remember, clamp to the nipple itself, not the areola.  You will relish every movement.

4) Clean the bathroom.  I prefer it spotless, as  you no doubt realize.  When complete, masturbate for another 10 minutes, and no more.  If you cum, you will be made to regret it, pet.

5) Do the dishes in the sink.  I have a vision of you standing at the kitchen sink in fishnet and heels, plug in your ass, nipples clamped, and pussy dripping with anticipation.  Beautiful.

I think by this time, you will be sufficiently ready for me.  In the time before my phone call, you will relax in the living room, watch the movie you have selected, and will fuck yourself with the dildo that is on the coffeetable.  Again, you will not cum. 

Can’t wait to see you, pet.  Be a good girl today,

G

to be continued….

Coming right out with it…

Yesterday, I sent a text to my husband:  “I’m feeling like I need fucked.”  I am by no means a prude, but this is very unlike me.  I was horny as hell, and for whatever reason, really feeling the lack of anything sexually exciting in my life.  I can’t have what I really want and need, but I figured a good hard fucking might satisfy something….  So, we text back and forth, me at home and him at work, and presumably both of us getting hotter with the anticipation.  I made myself cum four times during the day because I felt like a restless jungle cat.

He gets home from work…we have a narrow entryway in from the garage to the kitchen, and I flatten myself to the wall so that he can get past me.  He presses up against me and I have images in my mind of him getting out his cock right then and there and fucking me from behind in the hallway.  But that doesn’t, and would never, happen because he works in a factory and ALWAYS showers as soon as he gets in the door, before he even touches me.   I wouldn’t mind a dirty, sweaty factory fuck now and then, but I guess I cannot complain about the man wanting to be clean, right?

After showering, he eats dinner, gets on his computer (he’s an Ebay junkie), and I already know there will be no fucking at all,  especially not the kind that I need.  I give up.  All I want is passionate, forceful, animal fucking.  Just now and then.  It’s not too much to ask….