Appetite Suppressant

This is an adult blog, with frank discussion of sexual themes and other adult content. Read at your own risk.


 Well, I managed to put my foot in it this time! Master read my latest blog .... and immediately took me to task for some of my actions. He had told me that he wanted something new to read, so that part was fine. He really did tell me to take 5 minutes in the bathroom at work and cum, so that was fine, also.

But he did not tell me I could indulge myself in any more playtime, so that turned out to be a big no-no. And during our chat that evening, he let me know that I was going to be punished for my transgression. I wasn't sure I really needed it, to be honest - I had no willful intention of being disobedient -  but he IS my master, and he does have the right to discipline me as he sees fit. So here is how I had to atone for my misstep:

Because I had talked about being eager to have some alone time in my bed, my bed was taken away from me. I had to sleep on the floor that night, with no pillow, only a blanket - and I had the blanket only because it is winter, and Master is firm, but not cruel.

So I bedded down for one of the absolutely most restless, uncomfortable nights of my life. You have to understand, first off, that all the floors in my house are wooden planks, studded with raised decorative iron nailheads. You also have to understand that my bedroom is not a warm room; I use a space heater to warm it before I go to bed, and the temp in the room always dips to about 55 or 56 degrees. And there I was for the night - freezing, sore and achy from the absolutely unyielding wood floor, my neck bent at an uncomfortable angle. Ugh. I dozed off and on, but I distinctly recall waking up shivering, feeling so, so cold in that room, the draft from the sliding glass door just seemed absolutely bitterly cold. And when finally that endless night was over, I rose slowly, all stiff and sore and exhausted.

I was a sorry sub that day, dragging myself through my work day, but when I spoke to my Master later, I knew what I had done wrong and I know I do not want to repeat that error. He owns all of me - ALL of me - and that includes when this body is allowed to play. As I had not sought permission, nor been granted the ability, I had to atone for using Master's property without his knowledge.

It was not an easy lesson - but it was a simple one: Do not presume to have unfettered access to Master's property.

 

 

Tension Relief? Or Whetting the Appetite?

It had been an unexpectedly frantic morning at work today - I had anticipated a more sedately-paced work flow, but no, I found myself hopping from project to project, making calls, trying to track down important information and coming up short. I was feeling frazzled.

Master often texts me during the day, and in reply to his innocent inquiry of how things were going, I told him the truth - that I was going crazy. And he offered me a boon - he told me to retire to the bathroom and cum, as long as I videoed it and sent him a quick snippet of the video. I admit, I felt kinda funny about that order (offer? I took it as an order) - I mean, our building only has one bathroom, and everyone - staff and clients, men and women - all have to share it. And as it was noontime, things were kinda busy.

But Master said so, so I excused myself to the restroom and quickly dropped my pants. I squatted in front of the sink and tried to find an angle where the video setting on my phone would capture the best shot, the best lighting, the best view, all the while allowing me to keep my balance and use my other hand to stroke myself. And of course, I couldn't take too long. So I had to hold the phone upside down, but it seemed to work. Then I could focus on rubbing my clit and achieving the climax Master had told me to seek. Fairly quickly (and quite silently) I felt a shudder sweep through my body and squeezed my eyes shut as the tremor traveled through me. Once it passed, I redressed, washed up and exited the bathroom with no one the wiser.

For the rest of the afternoon, I felt the evidence of my lunchtime play pooling in my panties. And while the release had been pleasant enough, it wasn't the kind of hard climax I've often experienced. In fact, as the afternoon wore on and I left work for the day, I felt turned on, achy, ready for a serious round, and oh, by the time I got home, I was more than ready to seek some alone time on my bed. 

I kicked off my shoes as soon as I got in the door, and was shedding my coat and unzipping my slacks as I crossed the room to my bedroom door. I dropped my slacks and panties on the floor and flopped on the bed, my knees already drawing up and opening to expose my pussy to the cool air of the bedroom. I shivered, because the room really was cold (only about 58 degrees) but I didn't really care; my fingers delved between my pussy lips and slicked themselves on the juices already gathered there. I drew my wet middle finger across my clit, and ooh, that felt so good. I rubbed harder, making little circles on that sensitive nub, and my hips started rocking of their own accord. My breathing quickened - I could hear myself making shallow panting noises - and I suddenly sat up so I could peel off my shirt and camisole.

I ducked my head to pull off my cami, and my eyes were momentarily blinded by the fabric. As my vision cleared, my eyes focused on the pale skin of my breast - which today happened to be adorned with Master's name. Yes, I had written his name on my breasts with a marker after I showered this morning, and then sent him a photo to prove I had complied with his command. I find that I like doing that - I can often see his name through the fabric of my camisole, and then I get to see it several times a day, though not quite as often as I get to view the ink scribed on my inner thigh.

Anyway, seeing his name of course made me think of my Master, and as I lay back down and resumed fingering myself, I closed my eyes and imagined that his fingers were playing with his pussy, that his fingers were teasing my nipple, that his tongue was lashing at my clit, and I shivered and shuddered and arched up and rocked my hips so forcefully that the bed groaned and squeaked beneath me. There were no toys involved, and barely any penetration, either, other than in frequent and momentary dips of my fingertips to re-wet them. I tossed my head and breathed his name, and there it came, the flush of release like a slow wave rippling out from my center and flowing through my extremities. And it felt good, yes, and I moaned with it, but at the same time, I didn't feel like I was done yet, you know? Like there could be another one in there, waiting.

So I slowed the movement of my fingers, but didn't stop them, lazily circling my clit as I waited for the initial tingling to fade, and gently caressing the taut point of my nipple with the pad of my index finger. In just a couple of minutes my breathing slowed and I relaxed into the mattress. Then I increased the speed and pressure of my fingers, bearing down on the swollen nub of flesh, and feeling a new spark of need and desire spiraling through me. It grew, and I responded by rubbing even faster. My arm was aching by now, and I shrugged and flexed it without taking my fingers away from my flesh to help relieve the ache. And still, I rubbed. My other hand was working my nipple, twisting and rolling and teasing and pulling it to a sharp peak, and my hips were rocking higher and higher. 

Master's face bloomed behind my closed eyelids, and his voice sounded in my ears. I began chanting, "I am your whore, I am your whore," over and over, and then my voice broke on a gasp when a sharp spike of need and anticipation overtook me. I bucked and arched and moaned and tilted my head back, and back, and then it took me, a huge crashing burning climax, the kind that locks up your muscles and strangles your cry of pleasure and makes your heart thunder in your ears. That was the one I knew was lurking, the one I was hoping to unleash. 

I collapsed to the bed, then, panting, and lifted a shaky hand to my mouth to clean off my fingers. I rolled to my side and curled into a ball, waiting for the trembling in my limbs to subside. My legs felt shaky, while the rest of my body felt heavy and loose. I lay there for several minutes with my eyes closed, all limp and relaxed and feeling at peace and perfectly content. Eventually, of course, I would have to get up and get back to the "real world," but for these long minutes, there was nothing but serenity and calm, and the last traces of anxiety over my frantic day were washed away and gone. 

 

A New Year, A New You

Or an improved version of the old you, really.

That's my goal for this year, this new year of 2014, to become an improved version of myself. I have made so much progress in the past year - I have officially been collared for more than a year now, and now I can't imagine not wearing it - and my Master says I am ready to accomplish even more.

(And I trust his opinion, even when I am not necessarily convinced of my own ability. After this amount of time I have finally begun to believe that it's not merely a passing fancy, but a long-lasting lifestyle choice and something I can count on for the foreseeable future.)

To that end, I have been given additional tasks and requirements. They are designed, I believe, to further ensure that I am daily living my submission, and to keep my Dom always at the forefront of my mind as I go about my day. And they push at the edges of my comfort zone, in that I would not do these things if left to my own devices. So far I have been able to comply with Master's directives, even if it sometimes takes me a while to get up to speed with it all.

One of my other goals is to more regularly post blogs here, chronicling my journey toward more perfect submission, and sometimes letting myself indulge in flights of fancy. Be aware, if you aren't already, that this is an adult content blog, and I will be writing detailed and graphic accounts of sexual behaviors and BDSM themes.