Bricks...

So. Things got drastically busy. They always do. i don't know. i'm really enjoying college, it's interesting. But i can't help but think that it is kind of a goofy thing for me to be doing. Don't get me wrong, i love the stimulation, the interest i have in my courses. But why? What i really want from life is for my Master to be happy. A (new) career for me probably won't do that. i mean, we've already been there and done that, so are we going to go there and do it again? Seems so strange...

i don't know. i feel at odds with it. Maybe the day is coloring my opinions some, as it really hasn't been the best. i feel guilty when something i'm supposed to take care of normally gets put off or left to Master. Some things, it's not a huge deal if they wait (like dishes...those will still be there), but in regards to our kiddo. Master is not a morning person, so when the wee one thinks everyone needs to be awake at six and i have to leave for class, i feel horrible.

Master and i talk about it frequently (every week?) and He keeps stressing that college is something He's allowing me to do, and until He tells me not to do it anymore (or i finish) i'm not supposed to fret about the time it takes away from Him.

Today i just feel like i'm bashing myself up against a brick wall.

Wow...That's a lot.

Whoo! We have had 10,000 visitors. Huge Grins.

Thanks, everyone! And, for the delight of your ears, Master is working on an audio blog, something akin to a podcast, which we'll be sharing with you soon!

Take care!

Hurts So Good...

Tonight was all about blurring pain with pleasure. Specifically, torturing the cunt's cunt. When the opportunity arose, it was off to the races, rushing to the bedroom to drag out everything I thought I would need. Rope, TKD belts, a bamboo pole, tormenting clothes pins, our new clover clamps, duct tape, vibrators, etc.

I bound her hands to the bed by a length of chain using our cuffs. Then I took the bamboo pole and stretched her wide open, binding her legs by the ankles, then tightening the whole thing with the belts around her thighs. The result? Helplessness. Utter helplessness. I'll post the pictures I managed to get on my Fetlife profile.

So, with a bound and helpless slave, taped gagged and tit bound, it was time to start. A few licks at her engorged clit brought her attention sharply to my intended target. A few gag kisses got her humping the air and moaning. I placed a suction nub on her clit, forcing more blood to her already swollen button, while also isolating it from any of the sensations I intended to subject her to.

Next, I shoved a dildo with a vibrating base into her and fucked her while she squirmed ineffectually. A few clothes pins on her minor labia and the clover clamps on her nips got her really flopping.

The torture continued for some time, about thirty or forty minutes at least, before it was time to give the bitch her first convulsing orgasm. Removing the suction nub, I replaced it with a clothes pin directly upon her throbbing clit. Thus captured, I pressed the vibrating bullet tightly against her button and held on while she shuddered and shook and whimpered like a slut, begging to cum. I allowed it, and the next one, and the one after that. Man, I am too nice... I'll have to look into that in the future.

I digress, she came at least three times from this agony before I let her take a breather. I unbound her legs, pulled the pins from her pussy lips, released her clit, and finally let her entice me with her muffled pleas to fuck her. I flipped her over onto her stomach and took her like the panting mutt she is. But how could I resist the chance to rosie up those sexy round cheeks? So while I fucked her, I slapped some serious color into her ass.

There was a little communication problem, with her gagged I had such a hard time understanding what it was she wanted. I couldn't tell if she was commenting upon the shade of white on our walls or lamenting not buying certain stock options. All that humphing... Well, finally I discovered that she was begging to cum, out of her mind pleading to be a little more accurate. So, being the generous guy I am, I let her. Again. And again. She fell silent after that last one and I discovered that she has passed out.

I never told her she could pass out, so I rolled her lazy ass over and swatted her tits until she managed to come around. Then I continued to fulfill her begging wish. I fucked her harder, slamming into her. She made more noises, more mumbled screams. Finally I had to give her the option to speak, just so I could be sure what it was she was whining about. I tore the duct tape from her face in one pull, eliciting a screech and more than one tear. Now I could hear her, and she was definitely begging to come. Again, I let her. And again after that.

Finally, it was my turn. She begged to cum and I told her, I'd give her one more, but after that, I was going to suffocate her with my hand until she passed out. Then a look came to her face, a look that says both "oh my fucking god, please no!" and "how did he know, please yes!". She begged, I reminded her of her fate, and yet still she begged. I allowed her to cum, shuddering on my cock.

I told her good night, and clamped my hand down over her mouth and nose. Oh how she squeaked and squealed. Her body thrashed against mine, her hips pumping on my cock. Her eyes rolled back into her head, she shuddered, and so did I...

Hang the bitch...

The other night, while at a particularly slow night at work, I came up with an idea to solve a problem I've been having. See, I love noose play. Love it! Sadly, we live in a small apartment with no ceiling beams or access points where I can affix the rope to pull my bitch up onto her toes. My solution? Using the bamboo poles, previously seen on Fetlife, I bound them on either side of a chair. Being around five feet in height, they extend well above the head level of a sitting slave. I then tied a cross piece at the very top, over which a rope may be slung. With this design, I can bind my slave in the chair, tying her hands tightly just under the seat, then run a noose over the cross beam and around her neck. Finally, with her sitting helplessly I can take the other end of the rope, run under the seat of the chair, and from any comfortable place within reach of the rope, stretch her neck to the fullest. So hot!

So, last night I finally got the chance to put my contraption to the test. Coming home from work, I quickly gathered everything I needed and bound my bitch into the chair. It was clear that apprehension had gripped her and an undercurrent of fear was in the air. Delicious.

Thus bound hand and foot to the chair, I ran the noose over the cross beam and set up my camera. Oh yes, I very rarely get the chance to hang my slave so when I do, I make damn sure I get it on camera. Once ready, I tossed the noose over her head and tightened it down. She made a whining comment about the noose pulling her hair and I reminded her it was about to pull a lot more than that. She pouted and took a deep breath.

The nice thing about this particular rig is that I can sit anywhere within ropes reach of the bound bitch and choke the life out of her from a comfortable spot. So, finding just such a spot, I settled in, set one camera to capture video and readied the other to snap some memorable shots.

Then, I took hold of the rope and, slowly at first, began to pull. The chair worked like a charm, drawing her up straight and bringing a blush to her face in moments. I love that look. The way a strangling bitch's lips will purse, the sound of ragged breathing and the way their eyes half close. What a lovely shade of reddish purple too.

The first round was brief, and brought more than one smile to her face. But I suspect that was more out of nervousness than enjoyment. So I brought her up again, pulling tighter on the rope, choking her. Her hands clenched at nothing and her feet wiggled. All the while her neck continued to stretch upwards, pulling her head at slight sideways angle.

Oh you should have heard the labored breathing and eventual squeaking of her piteous begging to be let down. The first time she tapped her leg I let her down, catching a little breath before dragging her right back up. The next time she begged, slapping at her thigh I told her no and left her stretching until I was ready to let her catch another brief breath.

Tears in her eyes now, she sobbed and coughed, stretching her neck this way and that as if she could free herself from the noose. Poor helpless slave. I pulled her up yet again, pulling harder and leaving her squirming against her bonds, trying desperately to follow her captured head higher and higher. She gagged, sobbed, pleaded, wiggled, but to no avail as I left her hanging, her ass just barely touching the cushioned seat of the chair.

At last, I let her down, reveling in the sounds of her labored gasping. Another moment to compose herself and I told her we were going to do it again, but this time I was really going to make her suffer. She cried, pleading for me to stop. But, what are you going to do? I'm a sadistic bastard.

Winding the rope around a door knob in the hall way and doubling back so I could walk around her to get pictures from all sides, I started one last time. I hoisted her up, loving the way her body slowly straightened till her head cocked again slightly to the side and her eyes narrowed, tears peeking at their corners. Her mouth twisted and her tongue protruded a little, an excellent indicator of just the right tightness around the neck. Her hands flailed, her feet danced, her face reddened, her ass wagged, and the whole while I loved it.

Twice she nearly tipped herself over onto the floor, so the next time, I'm binding her feet up off of the floor and back under her. But despite that one problem, the hanging chair worked like a charm. Leaving her begging and gasping just as I had planned. Finally, as she was just on the edge of passing out, I eased her down. She collapsed into a sobbing pile of gasping slave and I couldn't be happier...

Admitting Wanting

Hi folks! Trying to be semi-regular with our video blogs, so here's our third edition. Master's still trying to come up with a subject for His audio or video (not sure which He'll do yet) so if you have any suggestions, feel free to leave 'em in the comment section, or over on FetLife.

Remember, my video blogs are about how i work, how i think, and how we work...It's not about the general BDSM community, or how folks new to their own dynamics should force their roles into the ones that Master and i share. It's about us.

Please do feel free to leave us comments! You may also watch our videos at the source by going to blip.tv.

Soaked...

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

A fresh year...

Welcome to twenty-ten!

i have high hopes for this year, but no real resolutions. There are things i want to improve, for sure, but they are things that i always want. i want to become a better slave, be more pleasing to my Master and do better at the domestic stuff. i also hope to keep on top of the blog more this year, instead of kind of drifting along with it. But i'm not off to a very good start with it. i've logged in a few times and just can't really focus enough on the topics Master and i have listed for me to really make sense of them.

i want to stress, though, that what i write (and videoblog) about here, is what i think, how i think, and what works for us. Choosing to live in a BDSM or Master/slave lifestyle is a deeply personal thing. While a word can't be re-defined to suit an individual's purpose, there can be fine lines within those definitions.

Take my most recent videoblog, when i talked about not being submissive.

Merriam-Webster defines "submissive" as one who submits to others. i don't submit to others, i submit to one. There's a distinciton for me, because i am so strong-willed that with other people, i tend to drive things the way i want them to be. Because of that, i cannot see myself as submissive. "Submit" is defined as one who yields to governance or authority. i do that with my Master, but only with my Master. i submit to Him and obey Him.

For me, there is a difference. That's how the definitions fit me. They may not fit everyone that way, but its how the definitions fit my role.