Forced
A lot of the time we have sex in the bedroom. Whilst it’s always very, very good, I do wish we played more outside of it. I guess because it’s warm and we can slink right into bed that factors largely among the reasons why and also because most of our sex happens before we go to bed.
But it is good to get out once in a while.
Like the other night in the bath. Not all the way, but nicely toying with each other. Feet slipping up against skin. Hands moving up thighs.
I have a couple of memorable times within our flat that were outside of the bedroom. One was a delicious and much-needed interruption. The second, which I will tell you of, undesired-of at first, forced upon me against my better judgement, but still I needed it.
A weeknight.
Tired from work and simply wanting to do nothing on the sofa. That was me.
He had other ideas.
I had been feeling that we were in a slight rut with the kink.
He didn’t see the problem.
I was in no mood for anything remotely sexual, but he had tunnel-vision. He wanted me. And He Would Have Me.
He pawed. He stroked. He pandered.
I twisted. I complained. I escaped.
Clearly, realising he’d have to work harder if he wanted to get his way with me, he switched tactics. Moving, adjusting, he entwined my legs around him and shifted my work skirt a little higher. Continuing his strokes, he changed his attention from my arms to my thighs.
I pulled the hem of my skirt back down. I frowned at him.
He stared right back with a determined look.
He shifted again. I wriggled against him, trying once more to escape.
No. That seemed only to make his access to me easier. Try again. Still, somehow my usual trick of wriggling away wasn’t working. I blamed the tiredness.
Things stepped up. He got up, crouched before me and pinned my legs apart in some manner with his legs and arms. Dragging me to the edge of the sofa, the angle I was now in, reclining, I found it difficult to move in any direction but towards him.
I got mad.
| if thy mistress some rich anger shows, | |
| Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave, | |
| And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes. |
I raved. I squirmed. This time from his hand right up on my pussy this time. Showing no mercy. And he was staring right back into my furious eyes. My hand was gripping his wrist to drag it away, but his obvious strength was always going to win out. His determination fuelled him further. He moved toward me. He straddled me.
He unbuttoned his jeans.
I was in no position to argue at that point, really. He’d won. I was lost.
I licked his shaft and the around tip of his head with a mixture of petulance and desire for this man who was forcing me to suck him off. This aggressive streak I don’t usually find in him. I felt him pushing in to me, but it was still careful, still gentle, despite all the brutality behind its origins. I drew him into my mouth and looked up, the fire burning still from my anger. The flame a different shade, though. Not as white hot. More crimson. Scarlet.
A hand was in my hair. Clasping and tangled. The other was steadying his frame by being placed on the back of the sofa. His knuckles were whitening. My eyes, they smiled for a glimmering second before remembering how this came to pass.
***
Isn’t it nice when you enact mini-fantasies without ever uttering a word to your partner about them…
Spoil Me, Please
It was my birthday yesterday. I like to dress-up nicely on such special occasions.
This is what was lying underneath my clothes at work yesterday:
Shhh…you won’t tell on me, right? It’s our little secret.
More to follow soon on the extra treats I got from Mister.
Tied.
I still ache.
No, not that kind of ache. Not the strictly physical pain.
I still ache from yearning.
When you are not near me. When we are apart. I miss you. I long for you.
When you are not next to me at night, I am restless. Without dreams.
That other bond, that other tie you have me held in, it stretches. When it does, it hurts.
You wound that tightly without me ever noticing. Invisible knot.
And I don’t want to unravel it. Leave me be. Keep me bound. Keep me safely yours.
You can have me in so many ways. You have me in so many more. I am yours.
My fingers won’t let go of the end. They are clasped as tightly as your hold over me is strong. Fierce.
I won’t let you go. The other end is in your hands. You have me, I have you.
Stalemate?
No. Soulmate.
Coffee Table Kink II: Deluxe Door Jam Cuffs – Vibrator.com
A few days ago I gave you a little snippet of my experience with some marvellous new arrivals to my Kink Collection. Here’s more on that.
The lovely people at Vibrator.com package their products and sex toys carefully and discretely, for any of those who are worried about their postman getting strange ideas about how you run things on the other side of the letterbox. I, for one, was thankful for this as I had to collect my parcel from the post office and walk through town after somehow not hearing the delivery man bring it to our place the other day. On top of this, the parcel arrived with two sachets of Astroglide lube and some lovely pink stickers which Mister is tempted to attach to his guitar as a humorous gimmick, so all fab there!
The cuffs themselves are of good quality. I have the Deluxe Door Jam Cuffs which accommodate both wrists and ankles, and whilst the image on the cover (above) isn’t that appealing – noticeably, the model’s shoes don’t appear to fit her too well 
– it’s what is inside that really matters. Made from beautifully soft black material, the cuffs don’t leave much of a mark if any at all on your skin. Adjustable to suit most heights, the straps can be altered with between a whole foot in leeway length. They attach to wrists or ankles using velcro. I was a little dubious as to how well they would hold, but I needn’t have worried. They are secure against very strong tugs and even held the majority of my weight as I hoisted myself up to meet Mister’s thrusts. Safety-wise, you can unattach them yourself quickly and easily so they are not as hardcore bondage as, say, lockable handcuffs or tightly bound ropes/scarves. Ideal if you are perhaps quite dirty-minded but are worried about losing keys/not being able to escape from your bonds in an emergency.
Easy to attach, just hook over and close the door!
The Door Jam parts are made from sturdy plastic with door-friendly rubberised ends. These are very easy set up and to store, folding away to an inconspicuous size – quite the travel handy piece of kit, I would imagine…
If you are a regular reader of my witterings here, you may be aware that I have just the *slightest* propensity towards bondage, both of myself and of Mister. I dig it big time. There was a decided spring in my step walking back through town with the box tucked under my arm. I couldn’t wait to get it home to try things out.
Releasing my hair, I was able to see him move downward towards my breasts and proceed to take one nipple inbetween his fingers and the other between his lips. Mister is definitely a breasts-man. And I love the attention he pays to them. Licking, sucking, nibbling and, today, biting as well as a few twists to settle me right into this delicious discomfort. Each caress he delivered made me moan deeper and lower, my breathing laboured. He then continued to make the most of my incapability to escape. He moved his focus to my pussy. Already so wet and aroused from everything that had been before, Mister set to driving me to distraction with his oral techniques. I writhed. I strained against the tethers. All to no avail, of course, so all I had left was my voice. He pushed me to the point where my breathing was all shattered and inconsistent, a kind of shiver I like to think it as. He was working hard, to the point that the next morning he showed me a pair of red carpet burns on his knees.
All this time, his fingers were not idle. The were busy either reaching up to my breasts, moving along the side of my body, delving inside me so blissfully at my g-spot or delivering those short, sharp thwacks to my flanks, again making me jolt all the more. After a little while of this complete spoiling of me, he returned to another of those powerful kisses. It amused me to see a little smudge of moisture at the side of his lips, which I dutifully kissed clean. His eyes said it all – all to see there was pure lust and carnality before me.
The restraints then came into their own for another purpose – as a leverage device. We’ve often tried having sex standing up against a wall or in the shower, but with our height differences, he being a little too tall for me, I being a little to short for him, it has always been uncomfortable and awkward. Fun all the same, but awkward. Tonight we found our way. After we had made some fantastically erotic shadows on the wall as he thrust into me from behind for an episode, he flipped me round once more, spreading my legs with his foot (such a hot, aggressive move – not one he’s done before!) I found that, by heaving myself up a little to allow him to move me over his cock and then using one leg to hook around his waist and the other with just the toes touching the floor for balance, the cuffs worked brilliantly in this manner. Supporting my weight and adding a little extra to the proceedings. We writhed together well that night and it was some of the most satisfying bondage sessions I have ever had with him.
I really can’t find any fault in these restraints. Vibrator.com have a great selection of bondage gear, as well as door jam cuffs just for the wrists. If bondage is your thing, seriously – check out this section of the well-stocked and varied site!
Here’s a belated Easter present for you all.
Oh, hell, have another one on me! Might as well make the most out my exhibitionist streak.
Kink Me Up, Honey!
My last post had me in a state of self-doubt over how Mister and I kink things up. I can proudly say that’s all disappeared now!
I’ll be posting a review of my wonderful new toys from Vibrator.com over the weekend but I felt I really had to share a little tidbit right now via some storytelling. Enjoy! I did!
*****
He took her hand and led her from the bed to where the cuffs lay prepared over the door.
She had been praying to herself that he would take the opportunity to use them and was almost broken when he claimed he was tired. Luckly, he soon changed his tune once they were both naked and their bodies connected under the covers.
Langorously, they moved together, limbs entwining and fingers exploring familiar territory. ‘Perhaps,’ he said to her with a tinge of playfulness, ‘Perhaps we could use your new toys tonight?’ Her beaming smile said everything he needed to climb over her, kiss her on the way and reach out for the bag of tricks in the cupboard.
She knew what he was thinking, the quick swipe from the tasseled whip as he got it out again conveyed their mutual thoughts without uttering a word to one another.
So now the pair were by the door, a blanket placed between the cold wood and her own frame with the cuffs hooked over that. He wanted her to be comfortable as he then made her flinch from the discomfort of his own making.
Taking her wrists one after the other and encasing them into the soft restraints, she pulled against them to test their give. It was looking good. It may have been velcro, but later they would prove to hold the majority of her weight as she hoisted her body up to meet his thrusts.
With a deep kiss, he twisted her around and broke her in gently with a firm massage of her back. Not one to miss out on an opportunity, he ran his hands deftly along her pussy and up between her buttocks, unnerving and at the same time electrifying her.
Sensing his own needs, he left momentarily to place a condom on his very aroused member, so he could take her when he so wished without having to break the mood. Upon his return he continued the massage with added bites and scratches into her skin before landing a few swiping spanks to the sides of her buttocks, making her hiss in surprise. With each sting, she pulled against the cuffs, flexing her fingers in reaction to the delicious sensations he was delivering to her.
Her head was low, hair shadowing her face. Completely into the submissive mindset, she was his. Utterly. Breathing low and heavy, her arousal was giving her away as between her legs she felt her lips become wetter with each passing moment. It was the most turned-on she had been for a long time.
All was right in her world of kink once more.
****
This night was so fantastic for me. I’ll continue the tale of naughtiness in the next post as I review the cuffs. Suffice to say, it’ll be quite a positive one!
Masochism and Malevolence
I read a very interesting post by Elle recently. It got me thinking. How exactly do Mister and I run this ship of kink?
Since reading Elle’s post, I’ve questioned whether what we do is too focused on the pain. I don’t know if I should be worried that it is such a factor in our playing. It’s not as if we use it every time we have sex. But when we have the defined roles of dominant and submissive, pain is mostly how we express that distinction. I have seen an increase with how often we use pain. In the past it was always paired in with pleasure.
We switch. Yes, true enough. Whilst Mister has a perhaps 65/35% majority over who is in control in the bedroom, when I take the reins, I drive him hard. But how do I do it? What do I do? Is it really healthy for us? Is this what Mister wants or is it just me? And possibly most importantly, is pain too much of a force behind what we do?
I think I’ll break this down into my submissive and dominant behaviours.
Submissive
I find I need him to take things in his hands – take me in his hands. I have spoken before, and many other times, about just what it is that I dig about being submissive. The contradictory state of being restricted in your choices and will and having the freedom of mind to leave everything to your partner to steer. I will completely fall to his overbearing presence over me or his fervoured kisses on my lips, breasts or over my body. One stare from him and I melt under him.
But more than anything, I think, is the pain. It gets me off so well. Even the hint of it will get my sex yearning for him. The everyday light spanks he gives me at any given moment when we are alone. Sometimes when we are not. The other day for instance, going upstairs, him following behind he grabs my arse, misogynistically and deliberately and I jump in surprise and turn round to him in mock-disdain. Then there are the spanks he delivers in the bedroom. Deep and meaningful and carefully aimed. I feel myself getting wetter after each sting of his hand. Then there’s the tasseled whip or something wooden from the kitchen. Even writing about it and my toes are wiggling and I feel warmer. Hair-pulling, biting - more-so lately - everything I love about being submissive is linked to pain. Twisting against the cuffs/scarves/ties – I love that burn on my wrists or ankles.
Should this be so good though? Yes, he is always careful with me. He will never go too far and I let him know if things aren’t right. Although he at times will purposefully ignore my pleadings for him to stop when his form of torture is him fingering or licking me to distraction. He aims for me to pass out one day. I am not so sure.
Dominant
Not as often as I would like to be, when I am Mistress of all I survey – namely, Mister, the hold over him is strong. I use restraints to help things along. I’m a little thing really, and it aids for the menacing malevolent streak that I go for. Cruel, yet caring. Usually it involves alternating between giving Mister pleasure and pain in equal doses. A massage with spanks by various implements. Going down of him, easing him to the edge of his limits then backing down. Teasing, tortuously. Scratches. Although not as deeply as I would like – Mister isn’t keen on the idea of breaking the skin. Fair shout, really. The ice and wax games.
I feel myself pulled in by it. Drawn to him all the more because of what he is allowing me to do to him. The level of trust he gives me. It’s dangerously hypnotic.
We go down the non-ouchy route of domming. A remote control buzzy thing that Mister would be in charge of. But that was early on in our relationship. Recently, the body paint and marking him with that. I enjoyed that, fulfilling a fantasy of mine. The paint wasn’t that great unfortunately and we’ve not had another session yet. I need to find something that is the right consistency of fluid with a good colour (and possibly edible). We try things out, but if they don’t work first time, it can be months or in the buzzy thing’s case, a few years before we have another attempt. We stick to the same routine. Bondage. Spanking. The notion of ‘too much pleasure’ that he loves to exert over me. But something isn’t right. I seem to be itching for something else. Maybe it’s because it has become a little too regimented. Too predictable. I want to try more things.
So lately we have been. I bought the anal toy to explore and I’m overcoming my big mental block over that area. Mister is keen to test the waters with it on me, which is great. But I want to try something new for my dominant repertoire. Thing is, I’m not quite sure what. I’m stumped. I need inspiration. Something other than simply tying him up and using pain as the main controlling force over him. I want to get into the ‘mind-fuck’ way of thinking. Mess with his head. Toy with him. Once or twice I’ve set things up to make his mind whir with the possible things I may or may not do to him. I need to be more consistent.
I guess this is partly a shout out to fellow-minded ladies to find out what you do to you significant others and also a call out to any submissives to discover what your partners do to you that really ticks all the boxes.
I need help.
Understatement of the year.
I’ll Tell You No Lies – V
I’ve done a few of these posts now – up to my fifth this week.
Your chance to ask me just about anything. I quite like the banter I get from the comment box and it gives me the opportunity to engage with the deviants out there! Also, I think it’s rather nice to allow you to find out more about me, either in the realms of sexuality or ‘normality’ (although, sex is normal, but you get the idea, right?)
In return, here’s a little poser for you to ponder on -
What was your first kiss like?
Quite a straightforward question this week. Now, people go through many first kisses in their time. The First Kiss in their life, usually in the teenage years I would imagine with a first boyfriend/girlfriend. The first kiss with your current partner or one with a memorable partner of the past. I am going to focus my answer on the first kiss I shared with Mister when we first had sex. This for me was another line crossed as it was also My First Time. I was eighteen and in the summer. It was late and we had escaped from the throng of the crowds out in town to the beach. I knew that tonight was going to be the night. The drive was about fifteen minutes and I could feel my body getting heavy with the anticipation and knowledge of what could possibly be about to happen.
We had been dating for about two months and things were getting more involved – with the heart, and with the body. I had already slipped up and said, ‘love you’. It just kinda happened one day as he dropped me home. Leaving the car it just came out as, ‘Love you, see you later!’ Casual. Comfortable. As soon as I said it, I realised that, yes I think I actually did love him.
So here we were, the waves lapping in the background of my hearing. The car faced the sea but we were looking only at one another. He knew too. Not the most romantic of places to lose one’s virginity – the front seat of a Ford Fiesta, but the background makes up for it. And also the fact that I popped my cherry on top
Then there was the kiss. It started out furtively, leaning over, across the car, a little awkward, a little tentative. My hands naturally sought out his body. Alighting on his leather jacket that he wore at the time, my fingers crept underneath to find him, feeling the warmth from his body. From what I remember, things moved quickly. The kiss deepened from the short dips to something more breathy and stronger. I recall that he moved over to the passenger side and we manoeuvred ourselves so I was straddling him. We started undressing one another. The first time we had seen each other completely naked. I didn’t feel nervous or ashamed. Like the slip up, it was comfortable. It felt right and good. And then he kissed my body. My breasts, my nipples, my neck. The way he kissed me, moved those perfect lips over me, burning their way across. It was one of the best moments I had experienced.
My first kiss here was memorable. Whilst the order of events may be slipping from my mind, the overriding emotion and feeling will always be there. Butterflies. They will never leave.
***
If you wish to, drop me a reply below and ask me a question in return. If any of you are from Twitter,or new to the blog this is the perfect time to do a little exploring of LadyP!
Target Practice Part 2
Just a heads up, I sound like a real bitch at the start of this piece.
The rage inside me had started to peak. How silly of him to challenge me. He was in no position at all to get away with such liberties. His back was practically a blank canvas for me to vent some steam. He had laughed. Giggled. Smirked even, when I missed my mark with the tasseled whip. I saw his body convulse. Not in recoil from the leather, not in reaction to the sting. But with amused chortles. My eyes narrowed. I leaned in to whisper right by his ear in a low growl, toying with his skin as I did so.
You shouldn’t have done that. You will regret this.
I left his body raking my nails swiftly down his back as I went, repairing to the kitchen where the ice cubes were waiting. Preparation is my middle name when needs be. I would have to sacrifice my own comfort as well. The ice would make my fingers cold. Something I detest. But, it was for the greater good. He needed to learn a lesson. Never insult LadyP. Ever.
I promptly placed about four cubes along his spine. Just to make my point clear. Another went to the top of his buttocks, resting just above the cleft so the chill water would melt down inbetween his cheeks. My hand went to his hair and dragged his head back up to meet my sneer.
You asked for this.
Which is technically true. He was the one who filled out the cheque wanting to be tied up. He was the one who surely knew that making fun of me, when in control-mode, would not have a bright outcome. And he wasn’t protesting. I heard the hiss of his breath as the ice met his skin. It was not one discomfort and ‘bad’ pain. His body contorted mildly as the ice hit its mark, yet again he did not howl in a way that would have let me know he wasn’t happy with this.
I don’t know why I’m trying to justify my actions. This is us. Take it or leave it. This is what rocks our world. Once in a blue moon. We don’t do this every time we fuck. And we don’t go in for the ‘no fucking when dominating’ view. No point. For us. We do this because it gets both of us off and after I had untied him, cradled him in my arms, he came back from the ashes and blazed anew. With a stronger flame.
Always my downfall, untying him. I lose my control when he has his hands free. But here is when, arguably, he does his best dominating. It’s almost as if he’s reasserting his masculinity and will go the extra mile to show me that, Now it’s His Turn. He will be all sexed-up from my attention to him, the heavy-breathing and beautiful erection, heated passions flaring and it will be channelled at me, the source of his fervour. I caused it, now I better deal with the consequences. Now he’s the one with all the desire and raging lust. He takes me and it is just that – possessing me, reclaiming me as his, not the other way around.
At this point that night, the hair grasping began. He pulled. Much like I had done to him. He pulled me backward by the hair close to him. The mild aura of threat about him, he was positioned behind me and held me down as he dipped his fingers inside me. I was completely aroused by everything earlier and his switching on me had tipped me over. I was very wet. He slipped two fingers in and out effortlessly, gathering speed, adding his thumb to my clit. Making me pant like some wild thing. His other hand roved between holding my hair and generally taking advantage of my body. Reaching under me to touch my breasts and pinch my nipples then moving down to squeeze my buttocks and give them a good few deep spanks. Not the light and quick, playful ones. These were spanks of meaning. Each hit landed his hand stayed there for a few seconds, grabbing at my flesh before returning for another.
I was lost in sub-space far too quickly. He’s too good at this. I was dimly aware he had reached out for the condom and was manoeuvring my frame around him. I came to my senses and pulled my body over his and straddled him. My hair fell about my shoulders in disarray, over my eyes and onto his skin as I leaned in close to him to meet him with a kiss. Taking little nips at his lips as I went, I lost myself once more to the rocking of our two bodies together and it wasn’t long before we both were in that other mindset of pleasure.
Sometimes good things do come of mistakes. I may have missed my mark, but we both hit the right spot together afterwards. It also gives me that opportunity to have another go at sharpening up my aim in the future.
