Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Escepades

It was a busy, lovely, weekend. We were fortunate enough to have someone we trust with our children suggest an overnight. It was our little girl’s first overnight ever, so there were lots of nerves on my part. (Turns out she was better able to handle it than her big brother ever handled his first overnight.)
 It was quite nice: Master and I picked out a hotel, then wandered the mall together (we even got a few Doctor Who things, but Master didn't let me go shoe shopping!!! Nuts!), Pet was able to be in the same area as we were, we met for dinner, and the evening was spent in so much play…Master-Reaper and Pet didn’t go to sleep until nearly 3 in the morning! Crazy people! ;)
Despite my uterus being a complete fucktard (3rd period in the space of 7 weeks, yay!), I did manage to get in on a little of the fun. Pet has an emerging puppy self, and it was really fun to romp around the hotel room with her as a pup, competing for the ball or the rope bone (and Master’s!). I know there are other female puppies, but I’ve never been well poised to be involved with their play in puppy-pits at events, so it was a new experience for me to romp about and compete at fetch. In the past I’ve played with kitties, but they definitely aren’t as rough and tumble as pups – heh – and I just can’t imagine getting in a tug of war with my favorite kitty – she’d be all shaken up from that, and I am not an intentionally mean pup… Pet and I growled and played tug of war with each other, snapping up the rope bone, and trying to steal the ball from each other. Master was trying to be fair and toss it evenly in the small space…. It would be lovely to be able to play in a larger environment…something else to look forward to.
It does amuse me that though I have a “no furniture rule,” for some reason, my pup self never remembers that rule during play – when I turn the game into a bit of keep away, I wind up jumping on beds and couches – when I’d tugged away the rope bone and leaped on the king sized bed to get a bit of victory, it was lovely to be in that puppy space and rough-housing with another pup.
But that really did me in, and following that, I can’t really remember much – it was pretty glazed over with pain. (Not to whine or anything, but when I had my c-sections, that was nothing – even when I’d only taken an ibuprofen  or two, I’d only rate my pain on a 5 or 6. Every time Aunt Flo comes along, I’m sobbing on the floor and can barely function, and my pain rocks up to 7’s and 8’s – what gives, uterus? I know you’re “abnormal” and everything, but…quit it! I’m missing whole chunks of my weekend because of you!) At some point, I fell asleep on the floor and the sounds of Master and Pet perforated my dreams.
It is a weekend I’ll be thinking of fondly for quite a while. Master has some pictures and videos that will probably be showing up on his FetLife profile soon.

Monday, August 25, 2014

lots to say, and snu snu

 I’ve been very quiet lately. There are a few reasons. Some are quite good, some are quite silly, but here they are.
In bullets.
Something I don't think I've put here before.
(Also, I typed this in word, so all my capitals are of Word's doing...because I don't care to capitalize things in general. Lazy.)


  •  Someone ripped the “.” (period) key off the computer I use.
  • I have had migraine headaches back to back for weeks at a time. They’ve been glorious – either crippling due to sound or light, or both, and tending to persist on the left side of my head as if someone is stabbing burning glass forks through my eye, temple and out the back of my head.
  • Our small peoples have been keeping us busy: the littlest one has discovered she can reach the kitchen sink, therefore, everything goes there...the eldest is trying really hard to boss everyone else around because he wants his way. All. The. Time. (Perpetually going on teenager, here – he’s going to be a monster when he really is a teen. Hopefully he’ll be a happy monster.) 
  • I’ve been enjoying watching Master smile like a happy, sadistic, mad man as he and willinglittlepet begin to explore the potentials involved in the relationship. Seriously: seeing the way she makes him smile with a few words via text is just a beautiful thing. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed visiting with her when the opportunities have been presented. She’s engaging, thoughtful, and genuinely full of smiles.



But even though I’ve been in the grips of a migraine again, Master and I made the most of Sunday night… He’s been feeling terribly sadistic for a long while, and earlier, he’d been teasing me about my love of sisal rope (incredibly rough, bitey rope for anyone who hasn’t encountered it; fun for bondage, if you don’t mind slivers and puncture wounds, but bad for suspension, just FYI), especially as I can’t stand lace for reasons that many people would say “I don’t love sisal” – it tickles and its scratchy. (Antique lace is an entirely different thing, but that’s not often on lingerie or fetish-wear.)
See? I’m still in the throes of a migraine, I can tell because I am completely off track.
Regardless. Master kept mentioning sisal. And the gas mask.
But it didn’t happen like that. Master pulled out these pretty (though pleather) arm binders we’ve had forever (but haven’t used), and slipped them on me. I didn’t think I’d be able to bring my arms terribly close together, but turns out the widest gap was really only a few inches. Yay! It was incredibly blissful: I felt very contained, very helpless, and very driven. The severe arm bondage did show me just how poor my posture really is though, because after just a few minutes I could feel my abdominal muscles begin to reach the stage of hyper flexion – that painful burn in the muscle due to underuse and prolonged stretching.
I’m rambling again. Writing with a migraine is just brutal, let me tell you. I am *so* glad that it’s shifted to sound sensitivity…Moving on, yes?
Master fucked my face a bit, and then told me he was going to use clover clamps on me. He did not go into further detail, but began strapping the gas mask to my face, which made me a bit panicky because of the pressure to my head. It turned out to be pretty okay, though, and lots of fun when he wasn’t cutting off the air and making it collapse on my poor nose.
By this point I was pretty desperate. So when he opted to get out the tripod and make me wait for him to use me, I felt pretty pathetic and very beast like.
And then the agony of the TAZapper (that crazy looking triangular electric toy you so often see in kink.com videos). I hate that thing – really, it’s not like electricity to me, but like hitting yourself with a hot match. Oh, sure it makes electric sounds, and those are kind of scary, but it’s the feeling that I really don’t like. But because it drives my fear (of the sound and the stupid little fire-bite), I get incredibly aroused…
I’m really afraid of failing to hold off an orgasm before Master grants permission. Sometimes he drives them so quickly, I wasn’t even expecting it. It’s a “rule” I haven’t broken since the very early days, and he plays me so eloquently and well, I’m afraid he’s going to make me break it. If he’s fucking me and I stop moving it’s because if I twitch, I might not be able to wait for his pleasure.
That happened a lot on Sunday.
Master asked how many orgasms he pulled out of me…and I can’t answer that. Anymore, more often, it seems like I can’t remember how to count when he’s using me…
Anyway. Master scared me. He hurt me. He even made me cry a little bit. And then my shoulder popped. I don’t think it popped out of socket, but it popped. So Master asked if we needed to stop…but I told him we didn’t…so I cried more for him.
And despite the stupid migraine…I’m so blissfully happy right now.
I’m sure he’s going to slap the videos and pictures up on his profile. He gets off on “watching” people love his videos and pix, engaging in conversations about the moment… It cements the memory in his head more clearly, I think. Plus he likes watching them repeatedly himself. He’s a perv.
Go look. ;)
I can say that because migraine.
I can’t believe I just used that sentence structure.

Thursday, August 21, 2014

pet's Second Visit - A pet's Perspective


A day spent with Master
i walked to his door carrying the objects he had asked me to bring along. As i entered Master’s home, i was able to give creature the book i wanted her to borrow. i also included a recipe that i wanted to share with her. Master, creature, and i were able to talk and eat for a couple hours together which i enjoyed quite a lot. After a couple hours in, creature left to go on the visit she planned, taking the children with her. This left Master and i alone, with hours and hours to spend together.
Master ordered me to strip for him, i took off my clothes, leaving the panties i had carefully chosen for him. i enjoyed having Master look at me and photograph me. Eventually i stripped down all the way for Master and got on my knees before him. This lead to us snuggling and kissing for a while, it was so nice having Master hold me. i love snuggling with him, it makes me so happy. After a while Master said that we should head upstairs so he could place accessories on me. We both agreed but still snuggled for a moment longer. Master told me to walk on his left side, a bit behind him. i was happy to practice this and work to make him proud. Inside Master’s bedroom, he started to adorn his pet. He placed on me a large collar that i chose and then started to decorate me with chain. i enjoyed the chain quite a lot, the cool feeling of the metal was exciting. More pictures followed the chaining.
As i stood before Master, he started to play with me. Master looked into my eyes and talked about a topic we had brushed over earlier, cumming on command. i focused on this as he spoke to me and i was able to cum at least once. This is something i am very excited to work on. Sometimes it is difficult for me to cum immediately, i enjoy forcing myself to a point where i can’t control it. The idea of cumming to Master’s command thrills me so much.

Friday, August 1, 2014

First Meeting, her Perspective



 I wanted to introduce my sweet willinglittlepet. This is her first, but definitely not last, blog entry here at RolesDefiningRules. Here, she discusses her perspective on our first meeting together...





Walking to the front door of the restaurant, I was nervous. Trying to trick myself into being confident and then I rounded the corner and spotted Master-Reaper. Upon seeing the man who had been delighting my mind I was still nervous, but it was a richer feeling… I wanted to give into the fear. The initial meeting was exactly as our online conversations had been, comfortable and open. Soon Master-Reaper decided it was time we go back to his home to get to know each other even better.
I was able to meet his entire, wonderful family whom welcomed me with open arms. We all talked together, I delighting at the time to finally see the beautiful woman who graced all the photos I had stalked on Master-Reaper’s FetLife page. The meeting smoothly transitioned into just Master-Reaper and I in his bedroom. I got down on my knees to wait for him to retrieve the camera that lay downstairs, just out of our reach. When he turned the knob, I felt my face erupt into a smile at his return.
Master requested I move closer to him and I happily did feeling his hands gentling touching my face. His hands on my drove me wild and I felt myself tremble as he explored my clothed body. After he was satisfied, I removed my clothing for him. I lay down on the floor as he tease my pussy still covered by the thing cloth of underwear. Master told me some other positions he wanted me to use and I practiced and showed him them. 

Thursday, July 24, 2014

New Little pet...

So a few posts ago I wrote an entry called "Interesting Times" in which I mentioned how I was contacted by a dominant who wanted me to train his long distance submissive. I had mentioned that our first encounter had not taken place as a result of illness, but that I was very interested in meeting this young lady. 

A couple weeks later, and I had considered that the arrangement had fallen through and I didn't expect to hear from either of them again. However, just this passed Sunday, I did get a message from this lovely young lady. She had parted ways from her dominant at the time, the one who had contacted me for the arrangement previously mentioned, and that she still really wanted to have the chance to meet.

Well, I have to say I was a bit surprised, but I was extremely interested in meeting her and seeing what there might as far as opportunities between us. I wrote her back and within a day we were chatting up a storm. It was delightful talking about all the things she wanted to experience, what she had done up to this point, and even a little bit about where she wanted to end up. As a college student, the amount of time she could safely consider dedicating to any arrangement would be tied to her degree program. But that gives us the potential for up to two years of opportunities! How can I pass that up?

Up to that point, she had not been introduced to Fetlife. So I had her create a profile, willinglittlepet on Fetlife. We agreed to meet, much as we had discussed before, at a local diner. A public, safe setting for us both to get comfortable and enjoy a nice meal and get to know each other. Should everything go okay, which it definitely did, we would then head back to my place so she could meet my slave, our kids, and then share our first foray into fun. Just as planned, we met mid week, shared a lovely meal, and, as we were both comfortable with each other thus far, we did go back to my place. 


Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Love, Terror

So, as we've shared, Master took some vacation time and we had a stay-cation. There was lots of awesome. Time for play, time to watch some of our favorite TV shows together, and time to spam FetLife with buckets of pictures and videos (at least on Master’s profile). It was awesome.

One night Master threatened me with the stun gun. He uploaded a video of me rolling around on the floor, trying desperately to get away from the thing. Something we all run into in the kink community (and on FetLife) are folks who don’t see why we might be enticed by something, and edge play, especially of the terror & fear variety are widely looked at with…disdain…at best. In fact, a FetLifer commented on said video: “That just looks wrong. There is nothing but terror in her eyes.”

Maybe we need to state it in our profiles, or slap it on every picture, but Master and i are edge players – we do think of RACK (Risk Aware Consensual Kink) when we play – but we play on the edge, really hard, and our favorite is psychological: terror, fear, phobias. Because we have known each other so, so, long, and have built our trust to run deep and strong, i feel safe playing with my fears and terror with him. i trust my Master with my life, in a way that i will (probably) never trust anyone else. So we play with those deep, dark corners of power exchange.

i get off on being terrified. i want to be afraid. i blatantly tell Master all of the things that make me scared (okay, most of the things), in the hope that he will find a way to use them against me. When he bought the stun-gun, i told him the noise was scary; and i was rewarded by seeing the sadist’s eyes glimmer with delight at the thought of my fear. We have had that thing for two years, and he’s never once touched me with it when it was lit up. He just turns it on so i hear the snap and crackle, and makes me think he’s going to pop me with it. Someday, he will pop me with it, and then maybe i won’t be afraid of it anymore. That actually makes me sad. So right now, whenever he pulls it out, i soak up the terror it instills, i drip with terror, wondering if this is going to be the time he actually makes contact. i let my body experience the desire to enter fight or flight, while my brain realizes there is no where i could go (or would want to go) to escape, and there’s no chance of winning a fight. The best part is that Master gets off on it, too. He likes making me afraid, likes seeing me squirm and plead. He likes that when we have sex when terror play is involved, i am dripping the evidence of my arousal. He even likes putting me back together after he’s taken me apart like that. It’s what we do, and i think we do it well.

That night was hard; he really did take me apart, between the stun-gun, the electro-sex box, and the things he said to me while he fucked me. i was a sobbing mess, it was hot, and i can’t wait for the next time he can make me so terrified that people i don’t know would be able to recognize it in my face.

After, he told me i was a good girl. He touched me and held me. i examined all the nooks and corners of my brain and found myself at peace, contented, relieved, in the wash of a cathartic release from the terror. Some people get that from the floggers and the whips, but for me, the best cathartic releases come after terror.

So plainly put... i <3 terror, and so does Master.

Monday, July 14, 2014

The Milking

I suppose it has been a long time coming. Little hints along the way, pointing to the obvious culmination of all our little lactation jokes cresting on the horizon. I've kept her producing, even though our little one no longer breastfeeds. The tits are all mine again! And I keep them hard, firm, and full of milk. 

It fuels her thoughts and desires to be a simple animal, kept and of use. The slave wrote a bit of fiction, a story of being reduced to nothing more than a cow. Placed on all fours, her voice stolen by a gag, hands wrapped tightly into hooves. He places a pail under her udders, telling her of the coming humiliation. He wraps his hands around her breast and works her engorged flesh. The milk sprays into the pail with an audible hiss. He laughs as her body reddens at the sound, a blush of humiliation from head to toe. A deep, long moan escapes the gag. He continues, forcing the milk out of her, spraying it into the growing puddle at the bottom of the pail. 

His unforgiving grip elicited uncontrolled mewing, her bosom heaving with her growing desire. Milky moisture building at the gateway of her wagging sex as he milked her dry. Her udders grew more and more tender with each crushing caress, bringing tears to her eyes as the final droplets fell with a resounding plink.

I had enjoyed reading her story quite a bit. It struck me every bit as the the culmination of our animal play and constant breast engorgement efforts! It started as we were laying around in the living room together, the children playing games, my hand down my slave's shirt massaging her tender tits, the first droplets of milk soaking between my fingers. I worked the tender nipples, causing little sprays of white cream to lance out. It delighted me, twisting them to spray her in the face, watching her lick up the mess from my hands. That sealed it. 

As soon as the kiddos were tucked securely in bed, I brought my cow to the room and began the transformation. On her knees, I wrapped her hands in Vet wrap to seal her fingers into helpless hooves. The slave had placed her recently purple dyed hair into delightful pig tails and they swayed enticingly as I finished the application of the wrap. Next, a tender kiss to her trembling lips before forcing the large, soft ball of the leather panel gag into her mouth, buckling it closed around her head. I forced a test moan or two from her packed mouth with a squeeze of the dangling nipples. The metal rings around her wrists and ankles were bound together with double ended clips. The final touch, a bell attached to her collar rang out with each struggling  movement as I pulled her into position over the metal dog dish, my substitute pail. 

Her udders dangled beautifully over the glint of the awaiting metal dish. I took them into my hand, working my fingers down the length of the tit. I enjoyed her whimpering at my touch. The first droplets began to fall, dripping into the dish. My fingers worked her swollen glands, deeply massaging the tissues as milk began flowing into the bowl. Oh how she moaned, that deep longing groan. 

      "Such a cow!" I teased her. My slave's hips bucked. I reached back around her ass, slipping an exploring finger into her puffy lips. I was not surprised in the least to find her dripping wet and hot to the touch. "Just a beast," I chided. Again, she mooed her desperate need. But we still had a long way to go. I worked her nipple between my fingers, the flow growing to a heavy spray, ringing into the metal dish. My cow quivered as I brought her attention to the sound. Again and again, the spray shot into the dish, occasionally overshooting the edge and soaking into the carpet. 

Eventually, the flow on the first tit ebbed and my grinding touch brought the last, tentative drops into the bowl. The cow whimpered piteously, thumping into me with her hips. 
     "I'll let you know when I'm done, cow," I told her, rolling her nipple between my finger tips. My slave sobbed as I pressed on.

With the last of the secretions drained from her reddened flesh, I allowed her a moment to rest before we started the next side. The cute bell jingling as she pulled eagerly away from the bowl. I enjoyed the noticeable difference in her udders, the worked tit sagged in comparison to her unmolested breast. I teased her bell, flicking it with my finger, enjoying the blush in her cheeks, bound beneath the gag strap.  



The break came to an end and I instructed my cow to return to her position. Instantly, she obeyed, crawling back over the bowl as her bell cried out at her hobbled movements. My fingers found her eager flesh and I began the milking on the other side. My cow slave mooed and moaned as milk poured from her tit. 

Hot cream filled the bottom of the dish, the level rising as time passed. Eventually, the milk began to run dry in the other side as well and her hip grinding and moaning were having such a delicious effect on me. As was the sight of her being milked like a heifer at my feet. Just my little animal, thoughtless and humping; a creature. 

I flicked her nipple, sending the last droplets spattering into the bowl. My cow whimpered and twisted her hips, trying to escape. With a final slap, I let her collapse to the side of the dish, trying to sooth her well worked udders against the carpet. The defeated groan that escaped her trapped, compressed lips was delicious. I turned my attention to the bottom of the dish, enjoying the sight of her cream sloshing in the bowl. It would make a nice treat for the cow. 

But first, it was time for me to get some use out of her. I pulled her onto the bed and had my way with her until I was satisfied. During that time, the cream had had a chance to cool under 

the constant blowing of the AC. It was time for my cow to enjoy her treat. The gag had been removed while using her, and she licked her lips while looking at her secreations. 

"Are you ready for your treat, cow?" I asked, placing my hand on her neck, the bell ringing at my touch. She smiled, and I pulled her down, bringing her face to the bowl.
"May I," she asked, and I nodded. There was no hesitation in her tongue as it lapped at the cooled cream. Lick after lick, her milk was consumed until she was licking the bowl clean, pushing it around with her effort to get every last drop. Finished, she looked up at me with a wet smile and a smudge of white cream on her nose. 
"My good cow," I said, patting her back side. My slave beamed up at me with her broad, moist smile before wiping her face on the carpet. 
"How are these?" I asked, gripping her dangling udders. She groaned, pulling her arms in tight. "Well used?" I added, and she nodded. 

Spent, she turned and collapsed at my feet with a final jingle of her bell. My sweet cow slave, drained in so many ways, cuddled up to my legs and sighed her contentment at being used. After all, she is just an animal...