Chasing Me Chasing You

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

Afternoon Delight

“Come with me down to the basement to help me move laundry.” A seemingly common statement for most people. Not for me.

When we got to the basement, we responsibly moved the laundry (because why make two trips). Sir pushed me down on the washer and pulled down my pants and underwear.

“Count.” I made it to nine before my voice cracked. And ten shot me straight into bawling. My cold, dry bare skin stung so bad. After a few quick massages he started again. Another three swats and tears were flowing. It hurt. But as he finished the second round of ten I felt this calming sensation. Not any kind of turned on feeling, but this sense of purpose and satisfaction.

“Go upstairs.” The walk up the stairs hurt, but I kept moving to avoid any ‘encouragement’. He pushed me down onto my knees next to the bed. “Your lips are soft, you will now suck me off. If your lips tighten up then I will have to soften them up again.” They must have stayed soft for awhile, because he let me go to town. Eventually he yanked my hair until I leaned back. He pulled me up to my feet and forced me down on the bed.

“Five more, you can do five more right?” I cried through five more before he slammed into me. He wrapped his hand around my hair. My moans and tears must be sexier than I give them credit for. The tears were still running down my face as I cleaned him off.

Before he let me get dressed he rubbed lotion on my poor red ass. He gave me a chocolate truffle, told me I was a good little slut and sent me downstairs. We cuddled up with the kids (him on the couch, me on the floor) and he petted my hair until he had to go back to work.

I’m not sure I have ever felt so useful. So loved that he would use me.

Now off to do dishes and avoid sitting for a few hours days.


My wrists are tied. The gag is already hurting the sides of my mouth. And the drool is pooling. I know he thinks it’s sexy, but I hate drool. It’s probably on the top of my list of humiliation. Lucky for me, he doesn’t notice my exasperated sigh.

My ankles are strapped together and then the big carabiner comes out. I’m always wary of that. Don’t get me wrong, it usually means that I am in for something really hot, but I’m going to be uncomfortable first. My wrists are clipped to my ankles.

Sir walks around the bed a few times to ‘survey me’. I close my eyes, if I try to rush him, it will only get me in more trouble. Sir’s hands start to massage and pinch at my thighs. I start breathing again when the pinching stops. Only now he is pulling my lips apart, never a good sign. But when his tongue hits my clit, I nearly rolled over. With my legs and arms up in the air, whenever he shifted weight on the bed, I leaned from one side to the other. I looked like one of those clowns that you can punch and punch and doesn’t fall over. Hopefully a sexy punching bag.

After his mouth and hands have gotten me hot enough to beg, he swings me back and forth by my ankle straps. I feel dizzy but still turned on by the time he stopped. He threw my legs to one side and slammed into me. A few good slaps to my ass and a couple whimpers and we were both flying high. Sir even let me cum after only begging for a few minutes.

Several orgasms, tears, and moans later we were a beautiful puddle.

Lessoned learned: Send him a message at work begging to lick his entire body. Your effort never goes unappreciated.

I’m starting to really love Mondays.

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.

The Best Worst Case Senario

After reading Kink of the Week and my post about crying, Sir was pretty eager to play. He had been warning me all afternoon that things were going to be rough and I needed to be honest and safeword when I needed to. I was getting that lovely mix of fear and excitement as we got the kids to bed and got my cuffs on.

I really wanted to last a long time for him. So I let him know that having a distraction on tv would help me separate from the pain for awhile. He didn’t want me to go into subspace too soon, so I threw in an action film. Eventually the pain would be too difficult to ignore, but it would help me to take a little more.
He showed me all the toys he wanted to use. To make sure I was prepared. The flogger, paint stick, and paddle were pretty standard. But tonight, he had also brought out the PVC pipe and a belt into the rotation. I am sure my eyes were pretty wide as I climbed up on the bed with a, ‘yes, Sir’.
It wasn’t so bad. I know that that is terrible to say. It hurt, and I welled up pretty quickly. The flogger and the paddle bring on a sort of numbness, but once every couple of smacks a sharp sting got through. He had told me we were going to start slow. So after about ten minutes he flipped me over and started fucking me. I was already really wet, and tears were flowing. Honestly, I was just a tad relieved that he hadn’t started hitting my clit. That is still a huge wall in my head that I have yet to tear down.
I was trying really hard not to come. I knew if I asked he would say no, so I was trying to hold back. Which was harder than one might think. See, Sir and I have been sleeping together for a long time, we know our sexual moods. I can tell when he is trying to hold back, to make it last longer, or when he is getting tired. But when he really lets go I can’t read him. It’s amazing and overwhelming because his lack of control completely dismantles my attempts at control.
So through my haze of focus I hear, “fuck it”. The word ravage does not even begin to describe the next few minutes. After, we are laying there in a sweaty mass and he rolled me over and kissed me. “You have to stop being so sexy, you fucked up my scene.”
“Sorry, Sir.” He knew it was only half-hearted, but I threw as much conviction as I could at it.
“It is ok, I am not really complaining. Next time I will make you cry harder, faster and then fucking you into next week an hour before I intended to won’t seem so bad.”
“Fucking me into next week is never bad.”
He forgave me for my tears and cries being too sexy for his self-control. I would say that I would try and cry uglier next time, but I am not sure that would have the desired effect for him.
Apparently I just cry too sexy. Learn something new every day.