Chasing Me Chasing You

An uncollared submissive struggling through depression, motherhood, and the constant craving of her next orgasm.

Glad for Thick Walls

“Are you ready for worship?” I nodded moving slowly down his torso. My body ached. “You may want to take your time, this is the only break you are going to get tonight.”

I stilled. The only break? My pussy was already swollen and sore. My poor nipples were begging to be ignored for a good long while. I couldn’t take my time starting, but once I got going I could try and suck his dick for as long as he let me. I started slow and kept changing tempos and depths to keep him from getting too close. I wanted him to come, but I knew as soon as he did he would play me with me until he was ready to fuck me again. And as wound up as I was, I would be begging too fast. He never wanted to look too nice and let me come too early.
All the sudden he grabbed my hair and pulled my mouth off of him. “I know what you’re doing Rye. If I can’t trust you to do your best then we can just go to bed.”
“Sorry Sir, I will try my best. I just wanted to tease you a little. I won’t do it again Sir.” I went to work quickly. No more showboating. My efforts brought instant progress as I felt him relax back into the mattress and moan. He grabbed my hair again, but this time to push me further into his cock. His hips thrust into me and I opened my jaw in response. I loved this. And his low groan told me he loved it too. His breathing changed and I knew he was going to come. I felt his cock pulse and the salty taste in the back of my throat. I kept him inside my mouth as his breathing evened. He liked me to suck on him for a little bit after his orgasm, he twitched involuntarily.
I rolled over to my side of the bed where I laid a small towel. Just to get the drips off of my chin, Sir never liked it if I cleaned up too much.
“Get back on the bed and lay flat on your back, whore. Let’s plug all those dirty little holes and then see what you have to say.” I moved quickly, still trying to be graceful and failing miserably. Luckily, for me, speed was more important than style. I closed my eyes as I laid back, just to take a breath and prepare myself. When I opened them the ball gag was dangling above my face. I hated that thing. I know Sir thought that drool was sexy, but I could never wrap my mind around it. I think it just makes me feel too much like our infant son to try appreciate the submissive state that it puts me in. But I put on a smile, lifted my head and opened my mouth. If I argued now he would just leave it on longer.
“That’s better.” He handed me one of the baby rattles to use as my safe word and climbed off the bed. I could hear him walking around the end of the bed, then I felt his hand in my thigh. I felt the cold of the glass butt plug as he laid it on the sheet to grab the lube. I was getting so used to it, I didn’t even tense up. Which was good, because that thing was pretty wide and fighting it never ended well for me. Sir was all about speed, when he let me put the plug in myself, I would take my time. No such luck tonight and he wiped his hands on my towel a moment later. I lay there breathing heavy, trying to relax around the plug while also worrying about where Sir was hiding outside of my eyeline.
 He returned a moment later with a handful of toys. I could only identify a few of them in the pile and I was still trying to get my mouth comfortable with the gag. I saw at least three pairs of nipple clamps, which was always concerning, because despite Sir’s wishes, I do only have the one set of nipples. He just laughed at my wide eyes and picked up the first set of clamps. I wiggled a little, pushing my breasts up; I never said I didn’t like them. But instead of grabbing the closest boob he moved down to the foot of the bed. As realization dawned I started to struggle more forcefully. He had only clamped my clit a few times and even then after a lot of warm up and my nipples clamped first. My body had a chance to prepare for sensation that way, and it still hurt. He told me afterward that he had hit my thighs as hard as he could with the flogger, but I didn’t remember as as the pressure on my clit was all I could manage to feel.
“I know that look.” He just grinned at me with that smile that turned me on and made me afraid at the same time. “We are going to see how long you can wear these tonight. And how many I can fit on that pretty pussy of yours. I think we’ll aim for three and see how it goes.” I was really wishing he would go back to torturing my nipples again. “I know that you will take this for me, Rye. And when you do, when you have shown me your submission, then I will let you come, and let you sleep.”
Part of me wanted to sigh with relief, though I don’t know from what. The idea that it would eventually end perhaps. I could do this, for him. And as long as I remembered that then it would be so bad, right?
Right then the first clamp closed on my outer labia and I was so glad I had the ball gag to muffle my screams.

Too Damn Cold….

It’s -7 outside. That’s without windchill. The dog has never peed so fast.

I’m supposed to go to the dentist this afternoon, but even with my big mom car I’m worried about the roads. At least I don’t have to take the kids out. The boy is going through an ‘I don’t need to wear a coat’ phase, so that’s nice.

Last night was my first Wednesday orgasm of the new year. Not sure how I feel about them. I think we both felt like it was a little forced, on both sides. Having the baby up screaming until past midnight did not help. Hopefully coffee may bring on some open conversation about it later.

I’m struggling with letting Sir know what I am feeling. With all the stress in our lives right now, I’m just looking for some grounding and it’s hard to squeeze that in around everything. It is a lot harder to clarify my wants and needs than I thought. I’m still getting past all the shame and guilt that was ingrained in me regarding sex. It feels wrong to explain that I want my hair pulled and I want finger bruise marks where he grabs my hip during a fuck. I love it when he talks dirty and plays with my nipples until they hurt. But writing it down for you, gentle reader, seems easy. Saying it out loud to Sir (though I know he wouldn’t judge me) makes it real and scary. I’ll grow out of it, hopefully soon. Sexual awakening and all that.

Hope everyone is warm and cozy whatever they are.

Crying Like Anything but a Baby

Crying has taken on new meanings for me over the last six months. I had a baby, and had to again readjust to the sound of shrill screaming. But Sir and I have also found a new, sexier love in my own tears.

He has spent our entire marriage under the societal assumption that my crying is a bad thing, to be avoided at all costs. He should comfort me and feel guilty if his actions were to ever bring on the waterworks. But he told me story the other day (someday I will tell you about his stories) and he admitted that soon after we started dating I was crying about something and it really turned him on. He knew my lips were bigger and the idea of making me suck him off was a huge turn on. 
So yesterday he told me to put my butt plug in while I did the dishes. I asked him to help, with big eyes and a pouty lip. Putting it in by myself when he is here seems like such a waste. And, when he does it, he usually lets me touch myself, so I was sucking up. He knew it too, so he put it in so fast, it took my breath away. It hurt so much I couldn’t stop the tears if I wanted to, but I wanted to cry for him. Before BDSM I would go to great lengths to hide my pain from anyone, especially tears. I have been raised that showing pain makes you weak. 
But crying for Sir makes me feel powerful. I trust Sir enough to have that emotional release with him and not be judged. Obviously, the fact that he gets off on it too is a nice bonus. When he breaks me down and I can put all my life stress into that release, it is a new calm. After those scenes, not only do I sleep amazingly, but my head is clearer. It is a great feeling. I know when I cry that I have pleased him, that I am taking the pain he gives me. There is an amount of satisfaction in being able to take each blow, if tears help me to do that, then they are not a sign of weakness.
Sometimes Sir will push me to tears quickly as he likes the way my lips feel on his cock after I have been crying. I don’t know if that means he has Dacryphilia or not, but it has changed the way I look at crying.
Crying is not a weakness; sometimes crying for my master is the strongest service I can preform.

Kink of the Week

Must Have: Sizable Space for a Sex Dungeon

Sir and I are heading out this morning to go house hunting. He had me do a significant amount of research and the realtor and I have narrowed it down to four for the day. Hopefully we can at least walk away today with a better understanding of what we are looking for and how much work we are willing to do to make a place our forever home.

Sir and I both moved around a lot as kids. My mother worked at several universities and non-profits before finding a school and a department she liked. Research and publication schools all have their quirks, my mom just needed to find her niche. Aside from the distance of friends, I did ok. I did all four years of high school in one place, so I was not too emotionally scarred. Sir, however, moved several times including his sophomore year to a worse school. Sir was a PK (preacher’s kid, and if you don’t think that played a part in why he loves to hit me with things, then I have a bridge to sell you).
Anyway, after our childhoods of moving all across the country to different schools and different friends, Sir and I really wanted a more grounded upbringing for our kids. We fully intend to travel and show them this country, as well as many others, but we would always have a home base. Give the boys a chance to have the same best friend since kindergarten. And, as possibly the only grandkids on both sides of the family, to stay close to the grandparents as long as they are with us.
But this will be our first home; we have rented for the last seven years. So trying to nail down exactly what we want has been harder than I thought. Sir asked me to come up with a wish list of items that I would like and we could start there. A page and a half later, we decided that maybe a short list of must haves would be a better place to start. Better until,
“We can’t put sex dungeon on the must have list.”
“I prefer Adult Play Space. And why not? I want a place, preferably part of the master suite that we can keep our furniture set up and I can lock you in, if necessary. We could use a basement space, but that wouldn’t be my first choice.”
“I don’t think the realtor will have any idea how to handle that request. What if we say that we would like a large walk-in closet in the master? We should be able to keep everything in there, and we have the two big dressers for clothes. We’ll just need to have a few hanging clothes in there like dresses and your suits. We could make it work.”
“Photo aids may also be helpful. I will leave you in charge of that.”
I didn’t put ‘sex dungeon’ or ‘adult play space’ on the list, but I know that as we view these places today, that is all he will be looking at. Is there a place for my big TV and video games, and is there room for a sex dungeon?
He also wants a dishwasher. This house doesn’t have one and apparently my hands are getting a bit rough from all the washing. I can’t argue with those priorities.

Down the Rabbit Hole

As we face the end of the year and the promise of a new facet of our relationship, Sir and I have been talking a lot about why we both are doing this. Next year (you know, tomorrow) will bring its own set of new challenges; we hope to buy a home, new job. But all that has only helped us focus on what attracted us to this lifestyle in the first place and why. See, Sir has always been interested various types of BDSM. I remember, when we were engaged, we watched Secretary (2002) together. I had no idea what the movie was about and he tried to give me the general plot before we sat down, but I really didn’t get it. About half way through the movie I was shocked into silence and by the end of it I was balling. I just remember looking at him, scared and crying, asking “is this what you want?”

I didn’t think I had the strength for any of it. And I will never look like Maggie Gyllenhaal, a sad fact, I know. I was so afraid he was going to leave, that this was some sort of ultimatum he was giving via film. But he said he didn’t need it, it was only a fantasy. Even with things as they are now, I am still afraid that I will never live up to that fantasy.
Looking back, I think that he, even then, knew that an attraction to this was something I just needed to discover on my own. Submission was never anything I would have accepted had he tried to push it on me. His patience is certainly to be commended.
Now, I have always been a writer. I have had a journal for as long as I can remember and I have novels and short stories in various states of completion. I studied to become a librarian to be closer to books and the worlds they can offer readers. My career path strayed from a traditional library for…reasons, but last fall I started to refocus on public libraries (then I got pregnant and we moved and a bunch of stuff that isn’t relevant happened).
As part of this refocusing I decided that I needed to widen my reading knowledge. I wanted to read books that were mainstream, even if they weren’t my traditional genre. I started with a couple murder mysteries and autobiographies. I can recommend an author on almost anything now. I checked off the themes and age ranges without issue until I came to two sets of very popular novels. I wanted to be able to answer questions about all types of books; so I decided that I had to break down and read The Twilight Saga and Fifty Shades of Grey. We’ll skip the teen coming of age drama and go the obvious literature of interest.

A lot of reviews that I read of FSOG focused on the poor writing style. Which, I agree with in principle, but let’s be honest and say that the quality of grammar is not why this book series sold so many copies. There was something about these books that really spoke to people. And, in all seriousness, they spoke to me too.

The story is about a relationship, like any other romantic novel. Except in most historical romances that take place in the wild west or the highlands of Scotland, the damsel needs saved. In this piece, it’s ‘prince charming’ himself that needs a rescue. The traditional template has the female lead making some life-altering change, i.e. location, family, job, emotional growth. Anastasia’s growth in this story is of her own doing; it is Christian who really has the tough choices. Relationships, if they are going to work, require compromise, few traditional romances achieve this. And trust me, I’ve read a lot of them. But across the three books (originally one big one that editors chopped up) there is an evolution. A meeting of two people, that just happens to include an equipped sex dungeon.

To me, the sex got boring. I mean downright repetitive after the first book. But I kept reading in spite of that. The factual information given about BDSM was all accurate. The terms and toys and even the contract used, was believable (at least to me). It may not be how everyone plays, but I could conceivably see a Dominant out there who wanted a relationship within the confines that Christian Grey wanted. Some saw it as an abusive relationship, which if you only read book one, I would agree with. But I hope those same naysayers continued through the series to see a balance that most vanilla relationships struggle to achieve in erotica novels. This book, if nothing else, encouraged people (myself included) to research on their own. I’m sure not every scene turned on every reader, but it got them all thinking for minute. And, even if they didn’t end up going to their spouse/partner/fuck buddy dragging a single-tail behind them, it did start a dialogue.

Sir and my dialogue was surprisingly short. I encouraged him to read the books and told him that the entire thing turned me on, like a lot. He read it, didn’t really like it (he couldn’t get passed the writing style), but came to me and said ‘I’m game’. I think he was actually saying ‘Are you kidding? This is what I wanted years ago, now you come to me like it’s some new idea and take credit for it!’ But his inner rage kept quiet. And here we are.

I am not going to see the movie in the theatre. Sir and I have talked about seeing the director’s cut if/when it comes out on DVD or Blu-Ray. I’m sure it won’t be that great. And if Jamie Dornan keeps talking about how the movie won’t be gritty or disgusting so that it can appeal to the general public I will boycott it completely. I mean seriously, you are playing a Dominant sex god, just own it. Your unnecessary jokes about taking several showers after visiting a BDSM club during your character research is just the most irritating thing. Just for giggles, I encourage you to read Dumb Domme’s post on the subject. She and I differ in view, but she hasn’t read the books and has no intention to, which is fine. This series, as the above hopefully shows, has had an enormous effect on me, so I guess I take it a little more personally than someone so self-assured in her BDSM role (I hope she wouldn’t take offense to that). But I digress…

I understand that the books aren’t for everyone. I cannot fault those who hate the writing, or find the character’s unbelievable, or those in the lifestyle who hate how BDSM is represented. But for me, this book was a window to showing me not to be scared. That not only was I strong enough to try this type of relationship for Sir, but that I might actually really like it. And I do. I love it. It’s a little daunting and I am often still unsure that I am everything Sir wants. But thanks to these books I have dived down the rabbit hole and I cannot fall fast enough.

*Edited to add*
Sir read my post and said that it wasn’t what he was expecting. Not bad, he just wasn’t ready for the Fifty Shades review. It was then that I realized that I hadn’t really explained myself well. This book series brought me to the world of BDSM, but that is it. This post/review is me tipping my hat to it. I will probably read the books again, maybe even get something else out of them, and possibly see the film. But this book is no longer the be all and end all of the lifestyle for me. I have found lovely people and a community to learn and grow from. I will still mention the book if asked how I got into this, but that is all. Everything that got me started with realizing my sexual submission can be attributed to FSOG and this year of preparation. But 2015 is about Sir and I. Everything that we accomplish together from now on is because of us and our commitment to one another.
This post is about giving a nod of thanks, but that is all. It is time for me to move past what brought me to this new experience and just experience it.

More Porn Cravings

I wrote a post about a month ago talking about overloading on porn. But that was talking mostly about photographs and small .gifs on tumblr. But what about videos and streams?

I will admit, I am a little bit of a snob when it comes to porn. I see this type of erotic entertainment as a fantasy, so the stuff shot with Sally and her boyfriend on her roommate’s bed really doesn’t do it for me. I am not looking for production values to rival The Hobbit, but keeping the boom out of shot might have to be a requirement.
Anyway, I have been craving porn lately. Feeling frisky usually brings that out of me. But it is hard to find something that scratches the itch. I am not demanding a romantic storyline, but something other than grunts is good. I struggle with non-consensual scenes, because I feel like I need to help when I see the situation live. Not a hero complex, I assure you, it just messes with my head. I have had non-censenual fantasies and I love reading other bloggers describe their forced scenarios, but that doesn’t mean I get off watching it in bad lighting. Then there is the opposite end where things are much more extreme than we are ready for. Sir really likes this genre. I would get him a subscription to kink.com, but I am not sure I want to encourage his ideas that much. And, unless he was watching it at work (not a good plan for an attorney), the monthly fees wouldn’t be worth it. Maybe someday, but sometimes watching a hard limit just reinforces why it is still a hard limit. I guess I just find it hard to strike a balance of BDSM and reality most of the time.
So my solution has been to stay pretty vanilla. Not the best plan, I know. But, I can usually get turned on by the simple idea that I am kinkier than the porn stars I am watching. A little convoluted I know, but it works for me. And we got a new camera with video for Christmas, so I am sure that Sir will start shooting his own porn soon. Then I can judge my own realistic performance. It’s win/win, or lose/lose depending how you look at it. But, it’s porn, so yeah!

Talking Heads

I used to think that Sir and I communicated really well. In college we would stay awake, naked in bed (as you do), and talk about everything. And now, years later, we still feel comfortable talking about anything and everything. However, that doesn’t mean we do.

Let’s just say that Sir wasn’t thrilled with my post last night. I write this blog for me, so he cannot use anything I write against me.  It, we’ll say, he was concerned about my thought direction. But it is hard for me to convey some of these problems in a verbal context, so I fear that you bear the brunt of my emotional processing.
In any case, we hashed out quite a bit after the kids passed out. He Is still trying to sort out what kind of Dom he wants to be. I am not struggling with knowing my submissive limits and traits, so it is like I am running backwards in front of him, just taunting him to move it along. Not a great feeling for a Dom. But in tandem with this, are the realities of our family situation. I think both of us have read the blogs of 24/7 submission or slavery and got a little starry-eyed. But, not only are we not there yet as a couple, but until other pieces fall into place, we would be overwhelmed every ten minutes. I am going to go out on a limb and say that a stressed, sleep-deprived Master would not end well for me.
So, a sub I shall stay. As his comfort grows, we may alter the plan, but we can see where life takes us. I will still have rules to follow and training starts this week (Eek!). But right now bedroom play is more than enough to keep us occupied. Of course, when I say that, I don’t mean just in the bedroom. After last night we can’t keep our hands off one another. I have been pressed against the kitchen door so many times this morning I think my face has an imprint. Sucking him off while he cooks french toast for breakfast could lead to an early trip to the hospital that would be difficult to explain though.
This entire experience has just been a real wake-up call as to how important talking is. Especially as we figure out how this fits into the rest of our lives. I am jealous of those who started their relationship like this. Without kids and scary financial responsibility. But here we are. Making it work with bondage, hot sex, and beatings to boot. And if I keep getting molested in the kitchen l may start cooking more. It may not be sanitary for others.

Be Careful What You Wish For

We pulled out the secret sexy Christmas gifts last night. I know it may not seem sexy to most, but his gift to me was perfect. He bought me some thigh high socks and fingerless gloves. Don’t judge me; I have low blood circulation. They keep me nice and warm in a scene, so he and I can both focus on what he wants from me. And he took it last night.

It’s crazy to me that even though we haven’t been doing this for very long, we still just fell into our roles. As soon as the bedroom door closed we were Sir and Rye, not those other people that have stress and sleep deprivation. It felt so comfortable, so normal. Then he started hitting me…

After a good warm-up with the paint stirrer (I will have to post a photo of this torture device someday), he strapped me up. I could tell by the look in his eye that he had something special planned. We play with bondage a lot, we’ll say I’m a fan. But, normally I am spread eagle or my hands are just tied above my head. So this position was a real mental change for me. It felt good to be so bound up, and that put me in a good mindset. Just a change in body position can completely alter your mood; it’s amazing. Sir played with me for a long time like that, but it felt like no time passed at all. My legs did not hurt, I just sank into the bed. It was heaven. I sewed all the cuffs and straps myself, and I take a certain pride in being used with them. Eventually we want to spend the money on a quality leather set, but right now we’re working with what we’ve got.

It was a great evening. Always shorter than we would like, but still wonderful. The next week or so will be crazy with family and whatnot, so it was great to just enjoy the moment. We are both learning each other and our limits. Sir is getting more comfortable ignoring my pleas and letting his sadistic nature shine through. I’m not sure why I’m supporting this, but I can’t argue with the results.

Rye bound and laying on the bed.
Rye laying on the bed, bound and in thigh high socks and gloves.
Rye bound on the bed with her legs tied together with rope and hoisted into the air by a pulley.

The Training of 2015

As we approach 2015 Sir has decided that there is no going back. We have been playing around with BDSM for over a year. Our personal and combined research and exploration on the subject has led us to the same conclusion: We want this so bad.

So, now, the hard work begins. The toys and Sir and fun bondage are great, but there is a lot more to a successful Dom/sub relationship. Sir has decided that 2015 will begin our official training, both of us. We know a lot about various aspects of the lifestyle, but we both admit that we have just jumped in with both feet. And I’m okay with that. We are both really enthusiastic and motivated to make things work. But if we are going to get as much as we can out of this, we want to do it right.

Now right becomes a completely different word. There are so many different definitions of the ‘right’ way to do things. We like the feedback that we have gotten from established couples and friends on Fetlife who say that you just have to make it what you want. I, personally, love that approach. We are a pretty quirky couple to begin with, so we usually make it work with whatever we have. We never keep a recipe the same either, it adapts, ingredients change, but it’s always good.

As much as I find that we are good at going with the flow, I feel like we need to at least attempt the traditional BDSM style and then adapt it. If we just start by doing our own thing and ignore the years of experience of others then I think we might really miss out on something amazing. So, we are reading the books and blogs; trying to absorb whatever we can.

Admittedly, this feels like a lot more work for Sir. He seems willing and excited to take on the challenge, so I am certainly not complaining. I think that we could both learn a lot and take a lot away from the traditional training experience that we can then mold into what we want from this.

It’s a little early to start on New Year’s resolutions, but this is one I actually want to keep. The first few weeks of 2015 will test me to see if I can be the submissive that he wants. I really hope I have the strength to see this through. I think that we both want this to work and we are ready to give it our all. I just hope our all is enough.

Please Fuck Me Sir

I am a needy girl. Not sure where that came from. Maybe vanilla sex just wasn’t worth begging for. Sex now is a totally different ball game. Sir doesn’t seem to mind his insatiable sub, but sometimes I feel guilty about it. He gives me everything. It is the classic BDSM line though, he gives me what I need, not necessarily what I want.

That is not to say that he is mean, well, not too mean. I don’t need the hours of sleep that he does. And, as much as I complain it about it, I get to wear sweat pants around the house all day with the kids; he has to put on a suit and go to work. So it’s not really fair that I want to stay up half the night and play. But once he gets me worked up, I just keep going. It’s not a stamina thing, I just get into this groove where orgasms come easier and I just roll into this subspace of sorts. I’m still cognizant, I can still talk, mostly. I can see the change in his face when he slips into too tired. There’s a moment when the evening changes from being for him to being for me and I’m not sure how I feel about that.

I love that he takes care of me in that selfless way. But should he? It feels good at the time, obviously, but afterward I feel like the crappy submissive. Should I really be begging for what I want; shouldn’t I just be happy with whatever he decides to give me. Then, just to make this more convoluted in my head, is he granting my request because I begged nicely, or because he wants to?

I’m looking a gift horse in the mouth, aren’t I? I’ll shut up before he changes his mind.