Chasing Me Chasing You

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

#happyslave

SaerWoland
@CollaredMom I see so much of you that no one sees. Your passion, tears and smiles. Because I own you. #happyslave #ownedproperty #lovedslut
5/20/15, 2:06 PM

I didn’t really think about it, but he is right. As much as I put myself out there on the internet through this blog and twitter, I’m actually very private. I don’t really post that much on Facebook for people who know the vanilla me. I am more than comfortable posting photos of my naked body; yesterday’s post has a close up shot of my clit for pete’s sake. But my body has very little to do with who I am.

As a writer/blogger, I hope that I convey some of my passion into my words. I write a lot about my struggle as a submissive; maybe I should write more about how easy submission is for me most of the time. I guess I think that would be boring for you to read. My passion often comes from the constant realization that being in a 24/7 TPE relationship is making me happier than I have ever been.

I am owned my another person and that makes me feel whole. I’m still dealing with the reality of that last sentence. When Sir and I got married I was happy, but I always felt like something was missing. People think that that had something to do with him, but it didn’t. It was always something missing from me. This is it. BDSM was what was missing. I know it sounds crazy, but when he grabs my hair and fucks my mouth I feel like I am where I am supposed to be. I could sit, clipped to the bed, and read and be completely comfortable. In fact, when I need to clear my head, I crave that simpler, quieter place. Even if he isn’t home. If I eventually buy a laptop I would do my work up there.

I have a business trip today. It is nothing fancy. I don’t get to spend the night at a hotel or anything fun. My company headquarters is about two hours away. So it is just a four hours in the car kind of day. But this will be my first work trip since before I was pregnant.

Going to back to work, even though I work from home, has been a difficult transition. But I am excited for this. I have several hours of music ready to go, Sir has approved lunch and dinner purchases, and I got gas yesterday to save time this morning. I am prepared to talk to other adults about topics other than Octonauts and sippy cups. This trip is just so I can exchange some of my materials and have some follow up training, but getting my questions answered will help my confidence too.

And, as a special treat, I get to go to my tattoo artist and have my back tattoo touched up. It took her about two hours to do originally and my body was starting to reject the ink by the end of it. So she wanted me to come back in to make sure she got everything and make minor fixes. I got this tattoo in October and this has been my first chance to get back. I am also going to start the design for my sleeve. I have been talking to Sir about it for awhile now, and he has allowed me to start planning. It will take some time, but if I will be traveling to get new material every month or so, I should be able to get a visit in each time. I am one excited slave.

After this whirlwind day we have a three day weekend for the Memorial Day holiday and no where to go. Hoping to get caught up on my weekly cleaning. I had to put a lot of it on hod while I got my work stuff around. Sir has been flexible with me, but I don’t want to let it lapse. But I am also hoping to get a chance to read, and obviously, for us to play. So I am looking forward to this long weekend. We have family visiting for awhile, but we will still, hopefully, have some time for the two of us to connect. Some time for me to be chained to the bed and him to see me there. In my place of submission. Where I am just his property. His loved, and finally whole property.

Shading Desire

I am huge tattoo fan. I have tattoos on my body for all of the important people in my life. And appropriately, I think, I have several that represent Sir and my relationship with him. For our five-year wedding anniversary, he bought me a tattoo of calla lilies on my neck (we had them at our wedding). And, as I head back to get touch ups done on my newest piece, I have been reflecting on it’s importance.

A few years ago I was having a terrible day at work. I can’t remember why now, but I emailed Sir to tell him how bad my day was going. This is what he replied with:

___________________________________________________________

From: Husband

Subject: I desire you

Where true Love burns Desire is Love’s pure flame;
It is the reflex of our earthly frame,
That takes its meaning from the nobler part,
And but translates the language of the heart.
___________________________________________________________
I immediately loved it. I had never heard this piece before, nor did I have any idea who Samuel Taylor Coleridge was. But it spoke to me. I know that sounds cheesy, but it did. And knowing that Sir felt that way about me got through the rest of my bad day, and several more since.
So when Sir and I talked about a large tattoo piece for my back to represent this shift in our relationship, this poem came to mind immediately. BDSM and my commitment to Sir has become my desire. Obviously I desire Sir sexually. But I also constantly crave his direction and his praise. When he gives me an order and I can jump and instantly make his day better, it’s such a calming experience.
I desire the kink. I love Sir. It’s odd to me how those two words are not necessarily synonymous anymore. That isn’t to say that their not connected.
My tattoo artist, who is amazing (by the way), did a great job with my inspiration and helped me to show my true desire for Sir and TTWD. His hand pressing down on my back between the words is how we live. Him controlling my desire in every way.
IMG_0439
Read about others’ desires and share your own for this week’s Wicked Wednesday.

Wicked Wednesday

Training Session, Part I

So I have this fantasy….

Where I am blindfolded and seated next to Sir. We are in a room with a female dominant and others that entered after my eyes were covered. I can hear footsteps and Sir tells me to open my hand and hands me a drink. It is just water, but my body is already shaking in anticipation, so water was fine. Sir sipped his glass of bourbon (I can smell it) and explains to me what is about to happen. When we arrived he said I was to be used to help train some new submissives, and he was going to use the opportunity to train me as well, but that was it. Now he explained that it would be my job to try and make male submissives come, and they would be punished if I succeeded. Their Domme would choose how I was to tempt each one.

I asked about whether I would be allowed to come as well. Sir explained that that would be my training. I was not allowed to touch myself, unless the Domme ordered, but I needed to come at least once with each sub. I thought about this and realized their must be some sort of catch. He laughed as he must have seen my confused face. He grabbed my collar to pull me in close, told me he loved me, and threw me onto the floor. I scrambled into a present position, trying to look graceful and poised. Sir must have had great faith in me to loan me out for a training like this, I wanted to make him look good.

Rye, stand up.

I immediately stood, hands behind my head.

Very pretty girl. Your Sir was right to show you off. My name is Dawn, but you are to call me Mistress, do you understand?

Yes, Mistress

Lovely. You are here to help me with a few of my subs. They aren’t as well trained as you, my dear. You must help them to appreciate their service to me as a fulfillment of my needs, not their own. So, your Sir and I have discussed your talents and how they may help me to test these bulls. You will have three chances to show me how worthless they are. First with that pretty little pussy of yours, then with your mouth, and if they can hold out, your asshole. If they come during any of these tasks, they will be punished, if they do not, then you will be punished. Your Sir highly recommends you, so I expect results. Do you understand?

Yes, Mistress

Now, I understand that your Sir has his own challenge for you. But be aware, my subs have not been given permission to hurt you, though they can touch you, should they wish. However, you are only to take orders from you Sir or myself. Are you ready to begin?

Yes, Mistress

Your Sir will help you up on the bed and we will get started. Also, just for clarification, when I am speaking to you I will call you Rye. My subs all have various names and slurs and I don’t want to confuse you.

Sir helped me up onto the bed. He began rubbing my clit.

You are going to do great, cunt. You never cease to amaze me.

He slapped my ass and moved off the bed as I heard footsteps approach.

I felt a hand on my hip as a cock slammed into me from behind. I felt the body behind me shudder and sigh as he started to move almost immediately. I tried to match the rhythm. If I could come quickly, then I could focus on making him come. The last thing I wanted was to disappoint Sir and be punished. But the sub kept changing his rhythm, making it hard for me to match, or build toward orgasm. It became clear that this was his plan. He would try and keep himself from coming by stops and starts. Not a terrible idea, but that wouldn’t help me. We both wanted to avoid a punishment, so I couldn’t let it rattle me. I started to grind back onto him. He could go as slow or fast as he wanted, but his balls still hit my clit every time he thrust forward. I couldn’t keep from moaning as I found the perfect spot.

Are you pleasuring her, you waste, or just trying not to come? You are being selfish, slave. 

I felt him thrust forward in a jolt and I heard the slap second as it came across his ass. He groaned and I moaned as he ground against me. A few more of those and Mistress would be doing my work for me. The sub slowed again and I pushed back against him in protest. This was almost aggravating. He picked up speed again and I realized it was because his Mistress was walking around the bed. I could hear her heels clicking up by my head. I couldn’t hear Sir though I knew he was there, he would never leave me.

That thought was all I needed to set me off. I picked up my own speed, grinding against him and moaning. He tried to slow my pace as he grabbed my hip, but I was too close. I moaned and grabbed at the bed sheets.

Let her come you selfish worm.

The subsequent slap on his ass was just what I needed. He thrust forward and I cried out. He kept moving inside me, but I stopped pushing back against him. I needed a moment to recover before I set to my task.

Stop slave. Your efforts for her were pitiful, but she came even without your help. Now you will have to let her try her skills. Rye, I want you get up off the bed. Your Sir is to your right and will help you. Scum, you are to lay down on the bed.

I moved to my right and found Sir’s hand waiting for me. He helped me up and kissed me hard. He didn’t have to say he was proud of me, his hands said it for him. He sat in a chair a few steps away and let me sit on his lap. I’m sure it was only for a few minutes, but it felt like hours. I could hear rope and clips over on the bed, but I remained cuffless, so I assumed the other sub was being restrained.

We are ready for you Rye. He has been completely restrained to your will. Your Sir has detailed your talents such that to keep things interesting, you will only have five minutes to make him come. I have no doubt that you will be successful. Please don’t disappoint me.

Yes, Mistress.

Sir helped me back up on the end of the bed. I was between the subs legs. I rubbed up his thighs with both hands to find his cock erect and I could hear his heavy breathing. Without the ability to change rhythm, I knew I could bring him to climax within the time.

I licked up and down his shaft as I massaged his balls. I took him into my mouth to gauge his length and girth. He was slightly longer than Sir, but didn’t have the girth that my Sir possessed. I used my tongue as I pulled out to the tip and back down to take him again. He moaned and struggled against the ropes and I smiled.

She’s good and she knows it, worm. Four minutes left.

I picked up speed and took him as deep as I could. I kept massaging his legs so I could feel his muscles tense. When he started to tighten, I knew I had found the right speed. I reached up and found one of his nipples. I rubbed it slightly until it peaked in my fingers. He groaned and started to thrust his hips. I used my other hand to hold down his pelvis and started to pull gently on his nipple. I kept up the same speed as his legs started to shake and his breathing quickened.

I let go of his hip as I pinched down on his nipple. He immediately began thrusting wildly. I tightened my lips around him. A few groans and strains and hot liquid shot down my throat. I kept him in my mouth as he softened and relaxed. I rubbed his stomach and legs to calm him down. Almost as a way of saying sorry for the punishment he would now receive, because of me.

I sat up to kneeling and laid my hands on my thighs; waiting for further instructions.

Get up scum. She unmanned you. Go back to your cage. Rye, your skills are not exaggerated. Take a few minutes to get some water and see to your Sir. I will go and retrieve your next victim.

Sir helped me off the bed again and handed me the water glass.

It took you three and half minutes, Rye. I am surprised. Next time you will do it in two.

I took a sip of water.

Yes, Sir.

Vanilla Days

I used to think that there were vanilla days. Days when he wasn’t dominant (to my standards) or we didn’t have any kind of sexual contact for whatever reason. Even reading that last sentence I shake my head now. Having those rigid standards and expectations of what I thought his dominance would be was a huge problem. I set myself up to always be disappointed and him to always be confused. Sometimes I wish I could go back and smack my past self in the back of the head. But this journey is all about growth. And I had a lot of growing to do.

Now, I have learned that vanilla days don’t exist. I never wanted them to, and I was just too blind to realize their disappearance. His dominance has permeated my daily activities, even though most are not sexual in nature. Every task, even my paid job work has his needs in mind. And that is really calming.

When we started D/s it was a bedroom activity only. Through the last few months we have ventured out and my play collar was replaced with a day collar. Aside from my trip to England in February (a very difficult two weeks for me), my collar hasn’t been off in almost a year. And slowly, we are making this lifestyle our lifestyle. But it can’t always be the spankings and rough sex that we both enjoy. We have jobs and responsibilities, but more important in this case, we have kids. We cannot always indulge in our wants and needs because we have two other people that we need to care for. With our infant teething and being up all night, it’s hard to get into a sexy mindset. But that certainly doesn’t mean I don’t feel Sir’s hand on the back of my neck in everything I do.

So a day like today used to be vanilla. We slept late and it’s cold today. I have a stack of work to do and a grocery run this afternoon. Pretty blah by most standards. But, now I know that he cares. He wants to know that I am working hard for him and taking care of our house and our family. He expects that from me; and I thrive on that expectation. It’s weird that my expectations of him hurt our growth, but his expectations of me are helping me. Kink is weird; that’s all I’ve got.

And no more vanilla days.

New Job Title

Remember the tea tray I posted a week or so ago? Well Sir decided that as much as he liked it, he would like something, ‘more artistic’.
DSCN0648 (1)

It appears that I have a new job title. Obviously, I didn’t spill any. It’s his good whiskey, if any had hit the floor, my ass would have been a completely different color.

DSCN0647

Sir took several pictures while pulling on the nipple clamps (sorry you cannot see them) and laughing. I cropped most of them down. But I decided to leave this one to show real life. I certainly wouldn’t want you to think we have some dungeon set-up of leather and satin. This is our real life. Playing in the living room, with our son’s playpen in one corner with our toddlers Octonaut toys and blocks on the floor. But he still thinks I am sexy and worthy of being his drink holder, even when he has to move a stuffed animal to sit down on the couch and enjoy it.

DSCN0649

I love this pose. I love the way I look for him. I love how much of my back is left to tattoo. I love how my hair looks, how even though my hips are wide, they look proportional in this shot. I don’t feel fat. I am just his.

Strip

This weekend was about being an adult. We went out to dinner on Friday with some friends from college. Sir is really in his element around people. He has a big personality and it is a treat to watch him engage is a social setting. You should see him work a room at parties. It’s not like I am a hermit, but these last few months I have been interacting mostly with the kids. Just getting to talk about something other than poop and Cheerios is a thrill for me. So dinner and drinks was a good time. I even got pretty tipsy.

It was also the first time we have been out together since really embarking on this as a 24/7 relationship. I received permission for two drinks before we left the house. And Sir gave me a few options to choose from off the menu for dinner. It was just a really relaxing evening of conversation and good food. The master/slave elements didn’t take over our good time, but, at least for me, they really added to the comfort and enjoyment of the evening. And, as parents of young children, we slept amazingly without being awoken once. A good night sleep is underrated, one we indulged in, with pleasure.

Saturday involved a lot of adult responsibility stuff. Dealing with meetings and other appointments without the kids makes a huge difference. We didn’t want it to take up too much of our alone time, but somethings just need to get done. Some obligations just don’t care about how much we want to fuck. But we finished that up in the early afternoon with one statement.

“Strip”

In less than five minutes we had left the stress of the day. I had my hair in pigtails, the ball gag in, and I was folding laundry. Very carefully, of course, so as not to drool on Sir’s clean clothes. He really likes the drool. I think most of his enjoyment is how humiliating it is for me to drool on myself. But, who am I to question? And I think he was a bit surprised at how much the pigtails turned him on. He’s not really into age play, and I think he always associated the two. But having two handles may have converted him.

So after laundry and dishes he was pretty hard at the state of me. After being decorated with the nipple vices and the leash, he led me around the downstairs for awhile. He claimed it was to inspect my cleaning duties, but I am pretty sure it was to watch the leash pull on my nipples and my ass wiggle. Which worked, in my opinion, because I was soon ‘head down, ass up’ and being fucked in the living room. The crop made an appearance to make my ass even more appealing for his cock (his dick apparently doesn’t think that pale is the new deep red).

Keeping my head down, however, proved a little more perilous than I realized. My forcing my head into the carpet, as he got closer and closer to orgasm, his thrusts forced my head against the floor. Bouncing and rubbing the carpet started to make me quite dizzy. The ramming didn’t hurt, but when he rolled me over all the blood rushed out of my head. Several slaps and moans later I was curled up with a blanket and Sir cuddling me. Then he pushed my forehead and I was waiting for, “are you in there McFly?”. I was worried I did something wrong until he started laughing. The rubbing and smacking into the floor had left a large rug burn spot in the center of my forehead.

Luckily, my ‘unicorn horn’ as he lovingly called it (he said it was lovingly, I think he was just trying not to laugh whenever he looked at my face) didn’t stay too red and is mostly gone this morning. Right now it looks like I put a small blot of blush on my forehead and didn’t even it out. But, hey, the things we do for love and kinky sex.

Honestly, the only bummer is that this silly spot is the only mark that survived the weekend. I guess I will have to beg him for more. Which, now that I think about it, may have been his plan. He’s sneaky like that.

****

Just an FYI, the website is still having issues receiving comments. Please believe that I love hearing your thoughts and opinions of my posts. I am hoping to have these issues sorted out soon. I have great tech help that are on the case.

In the meantime. Please feel free to email me at [email protected] and I will post your comment, if you give me permission, or I will just write you back privately. Also feel free to comment on twitter. I am @CollaredMom. Thanks for reading!

Waking Up

I want to say thank you to all those people who woke me up yesterday. I was being a shit. I hate that when you know you’re a shit and you just have to watch yourself dig the hole. It was a long day.

Anyway, Sir and I talked a lot last night. We aren’t being clear about our communication and our needs. I read him a piece that I found on tumbler about feeling cherished. We talked about how I wanted to be put in a cage. I just struggle with feeling purposeful. Washing dishes and changing diapers just isn’t very life-affirming.

But we’re getting there. It’s a lot of talking, much more than I realized. And I’ve never felt so insecure before. That’s weird. We’ve been together for years, why does adding a deeper sexual and emotional experience make me question that? I’m just a mess. Full stop.

But, when we do connect, it’s magic. Intimate and sexy, and I end up begging for anal and both of us moaning and turning to jelly. It’s worth all the work, all the confusion, for those moments together. When he calls me a slut and fucks my ass and grabs my hair as he cuddles with me afterword. When he calls me a ‘good girl’. It’s the most romantic thing ever.

A New Day

“You really thought I was going to take your collar? You doubted me.” It wasn’t a question, but I felt compelled to respond.

“Yes, Sir.” I couldn’t lie, but it was still hard. Looking back I was ashamed of my behavior, but in that moment of panic I was just trying to be honest. I should have taken a step back, stopped and thought about what I knew about him. He would never walk away from me, he would never ask for my collar back. But the panic. That fear of having to continue day to day without D/s was shocking. I was halted by how afraid I was of losing the opportunity to submit. Of how much I didn’t want to return to a 50/50 relationship with him. As much as I struggle at times with endless housework, I still crave the grounding it provides.

“I believe that you need to be punished for your error, more than the regret I can see on your face. But this will be the end of this. You are not going to perseverate on this or any other past infraction. The slate will be wiped clean. Tomorrow you will begin self-reporting to me as part of your ‘you cannot know anything I don’t know’ rule. Do you understand?”

I nodded. A sense of calm came over me as I resigned myself to the pain and following forgiveness. After placing me over the spanking bench, he started to run a strap under me. While trying to figure out what he was doing to make this punishment worse, the vice clamps were put on my nipples and a string run between them. My wrists were locked and my knees strapped together. I try not to analyze too much when he is setting up, but after the emotional roller coaster of the last few days, I couldn’t help it. All the sudden I felt the vices start to pull. If I struggled, it just pulled more.

When I finally found a position where I wasn’t pulling on the nipple removal contraption, the Angry Red Bastard (ARB) made it’s appearance. The ARB was Sir’s kinky Christmas gift this year. It’s a crop with a whip tassel at the end that stings like you wouldn’t believe. He started with just the whip tip and every time I would jump in response, the nipple pulls would bring me back down. Let’s just say it was a very effective punishment. After several swings, he decided to try a few with the full force of the crop. The ‘bonus’, if you can call it that, is that the crop hit my ass and a second later the tassel came around and sliced into the side of my hip.

But, I did it. It was painful, it was supposed to be, but it’s over. And that clean slate feels amazing.

DSCN0622

I’m not sure I like that Sir is so creative with these vice clamps. My purple nipples agree with me.

DSCN0631

Trying to show the hip lines. As a point of pride, those are the marks that are still there this morning. I think this is the first time that I have marks that have lasted the night. A point of pride for me.

 

 

DSCN0631 2

 

Gratuitous ass shot. I’m proud of my marks. I know they don’t compare to many of those who post after-scene pictures, but they are a big step for me. I am sure that these will not be the worst or the last marks that Sir will give me. Because, well….Sadist. But as part of a new beginning I am happy to get them.

I’m a Fuckpuppet

“Here, fuck yourself with this while I brush my teeth.” Not going to argue. I was pretty wet and going by the time he got back. I never realized how thorough he was when cleaning his teeth. Not complaining, just admiring.

“Good job, you may continue while you suck my cock.” Again, not arguing here. He laid across the bed and I turned to get to work. I found this spot, I think it was right under my clit, but I was a little preoccupied. Wherever it was, it was a direct link to everything gooey and wonderful in my head. Anyway, I started grabbing at his chest to let him know that I close. I was really really close. “You can cum, as much as you want, just don’t take me out of your mouth.” I pushed on that spot. It was the most relaxing and amazing feeling. And I came. I came three or four times. I lost count. I couldn’t focus on much. Except that I actually ejaculated. I have never done that before, and it was amazing. It felt great, until it didn’t. It was crazy how after the endless stream of orgasms I started to hurt. I was still moaning and he was too, but the frenzy had passed.

“Ok, climb on top of me fuckpuppet”. I did as I was told, but I wanted to tell him about my ‘new achievement’.

“I made a mess”. I had a huge grin on my face so he actually took a second to sit up, then he grinned too.

“You did, you dirty slut.” Oh the love.

I climbed on top of him. I was already sore from my multiple orgasms, so his cock felt huge inside me. And, after another forced orgasm he flipped me over and slammed into me. That really hurt. In a good way, of course, but hurt.

“You going to cum again, fuckpuppet?” He slapped my ass and I moaned into the duvet. “Put your finger in your ass.” I did immediately and we both moaned. We both came in moments. Puddles of goo and sex juice, we finally got up.

My pussy hurt. It throbbed and stung a little. Sir kept laughing at me as I tried to get comfortable in bed. Every time I moved I would moan and he would snicker.

“Oh, my poor little fuckpuppet”.

Submissive or not, and despite the pitch dark in our room, I could see and still wanted to smack the grin off his face. My clit throbbed, as if he were pinching it at that exact moment to correct my improper thought. I am such a fuckpuppet.

Good change

As per usual, the excellent advice that I received from you all was exactly what I needed to hear. He can’t fix it if he doesn’t know that there is a problem. And, until he read my post yesterday afternoon, he had no idea there was an issue. And to think, when I was young I would never shut up.

After dinner he had me talk through my thought process and why I am uncomfortable asking for my own orgasm. I need to ask. He doesn’t want to deny me, but he doesn’t always know. So now I know to ask if I need something. Masturbating is still by permission only, but that is mostly so I can’t play while he is at work. At night when he is home, he generally doesn’t mind. And apparently he really does like to watch me take care of myself. I am not sure where I got the idea that he wasn’t a fan. I think my head makes up stuff to justify its own insecurities.

I also realized how much I need to have time to create on my own. I used to sew a lot. I have several quilts in process and scrapbooks that I want to do for the boys from our trip to the UK. I have a couple short story ideas in the works and at least two novels going. I just didn’t understand how much that time to myself helps me. I love my kids, but working from home and having the kids here means absolutely no time for myself. After this wonderful week from hell, Sir decided it would be best for me and the kids if they both went to daycare in the mornings so I can work.

Needless to say I am excited. I think the time to work in the mornings by myself will be good for me. And I may even have some craft time a couple times a week. I think this will really help me to balance my head. Days without sex will be easier to handle and I can start to manage my stress better in general.  Baby steps to a better me. And a better me equals a better slave equals a happy Sir.