Merry Christmas

I found this on the Slave Isabelle's Journey Blog a couple of years ago...

Twas the night before Christmas,and all through the town

Her pleas could be heard as her panties came down.

“Oh Santa,dear Santa,don’t spank me,I pray!

I’ll be ever so good,starting right from today!”

But Santa just chuckled,“I’ve heard that before

From many a bad girl with bottom so sore

As she wriggles and squirms ‘neath his hand’s hearty sting.

But a promise like that –why,it means not a thing.

What matters,dear One,as you’ll very soon see

Is that you should be spanked across Santa’s broad knee.

Till your sassy bare bottom is burning bright red!”

And with that,the old fellow did just as he’d said,

And proceeded to spank her with all of his might

Till her yelps echoed loud in the cold frosty night,

And each swat,ringing out like a loud pistol shot,

Turned her soft,round bottom increasingly hot.

Then,when she’d been hand-spanked with many a smack,

The jolly old fellow reached into his sack.

He produced a fine paddle of well-seasoned wood.

“Now,this is the thing that makes naughty girls good.”

He remarked with a grin. “And I think you’ll soon find

How effective it feels on a soft,tender behind!”

“Oh please,Santa! No more!” she cried in dismay,

But the paddle cracked down without further delay,

And despite all her protests and wailings and shrieks

It soon deepened the blush on her squirming, rear cheeks.

Poor Dear how she wriggled but all was in vain,

For the paddle descended again and again

Till her bouncing bare bottom was sizzling and sore

And as red as the costume that Santa Claus wore.

But at last he relented allowing her to rise,

Hugged her warmly while wiping the tears from her eyes,

And murmuring,“There,it’s all over,my dear!”

Rubbing soothing cool cream on her blazing, hot rear.

Then he exclaimed,“Well Miss,your sweet bottom so curved

Has had the sound spanking it so richly deserved.

From now on,I’m sure,I don’t need to explain,

If you’re good then I shan’t have to spank you again.

But if you are naughty –remember,my dear,

That Santa keeps watch for the whole of the year!”

Then smiling,he shouldered his bulging big sack,

And sent her away with a crisp farewell smack.

So she hurried to bed with satisfaction you know,

With a song in her heart and her bottom aglow

And a sense that all manner of things were all right.

But she slept facing down on her tummy that night!

-Author Unknown

Letting Go - the Good Way

I just got back from a 10 day trip to the East Coast.  I got to spend some time with tO.  We're back together, and playing again, albeit ribbonless. 

I felt tO let go a bit more than usual. 

Have you felt play get to the point that you're on a knife edge, and you know if you tip to one side it will be too much and you'll break and come apart.  But if you tip to the other side, you just KNOW that it will fall short and you'll be left unwhole.  And the only thing that keeps it all in balance is Him.  He holds you there, by his will and your hair.  And the blade slices you and burns SO good...

Released

A sad day for me.  A couple of days ago,  tO decided to not continue our real life relationship and with that, today came the severing of our play relationship.

Not an easy thing to swallow, the break up, but hopefully I will learn from it.

tO was amazing.  He was everything I could want in a D.  The play we shared was on a level I've never experienced before.  Which is exactly why I couldn't write much about it.  It was all too intense and personal to share.

Asking to be released was hard, but necessary.  I asked not because I want to jump into another D/s relationship, but because I viewed it as a real tie to him.  When he asked me if I would be his s and if I wanted him for a D, I answered yes and took it seriously.  He removed the ribbon when he was out a few weeks ago, because I was having surgery. 

So I am glad I didn't have to take it off myself tonight.

That would have been too much.

And I hope he changes his mind and comes back to me.

Absence

It had been six weeks since she had seen Him.  Her body craved Him, needed Him.

They spent the morning at His work.  He wore His uniform.  It turned her on.

They came home and sat on the couch, relaxing.  He still had his uniform on.

He told her to go get her crop.

She did as she was told.

She knelt in front of him, holding the crop.

He told her to stand and He removed her panties.  He bent her over His knees - her sundress up around her waist.

He started spanking her, fast and hard, stopping occasionally to smooth His hand over her warming ass, only to start again just as hard.  She had to remind herself to breathe.

He let her up and leaned her over the couch, spreading her legs wide.  The crop/cane was brought down against her legs.  She had to bite down onto her hand to keep from crying out. 

He was bringing her there, she could feel herself drifting away.  He wouldn't let her go, though, not just yet.

He pulled her by the hair up onto her knees.  He unzipped the trousers of His uniform and pulled out His cock.  She opened her mouth and He thrust inside of her.  Not a pretty blow job - a hard, dirty, messy face fuck.  Several times He slid His cock deep into her throat, constricting her breathing, and held her there, panic starting to build as she felt her head go fuzzy.

He came like that - deep in her throat. 

Afterwards, she stayed kneeling, resting her head on the couch, exhausted and spent.  He absently ran His fingers through her hair.  She smiled to herself,  closed her eyes, and left.

Home Game

He was in her house.  On her turf. 

She should have felt some sort of assurance from that, but she didn't.  She felt a bit self conscious - awkward in her own home.  This was her territory.  She made the rules here , she decided what happened, and when.

Yet here she was, naked and exposed, feeling like a little girl in trouble.

She liked it.

She brought Him her crop, bridle straps and clothespins as she was told, and was now kneeling in front of Him - her ass in the air and head on the floor.

She both loved and hated being like this.  It's a humiliating position, being presented like that.  Your sex is RIGHT there, no way to hide anything.  There's no modesty allowed.

And yet it excited her, doing something good girl's don't do.

He took the clothespins and and clamped them on her inner thighs, and on her cunt.  They hurt, especial on her sex.

She felt the bridle straps running along her back, and shivered in anticipation.   He brought them down hard, maybe too hard.  She can never really tell if it's too much, or if it is just the contrary part of her fighting letting go.

She took it well, though, and only found her breathing labored when He stopped.

He took the clothespins off, slowly dragging them off her skin. 

She was wet, very wet.  She could feel it against her thighs.

He smacked her with the crop - using it like a cane against her buttocks and the back of her legs.

She gasped and tried to stay still, but it became too much and she had to bring her hands to her face to keep her from protecting her ass.

She knelt there, and felt herself slip away.

On Knots, Needles and Such...

We were sitting on the couch after dinner.  I was curled up next to him, feeling very content when I got my first order from tO and I knew it had begun.

"Suck my cock." 

Three simple words that cause my body to immediately pool wetness between my legs.

I knelt before him.  I quickly found out this wasn't going to be a pretty, porn-worthy blow job where I got to play and tease.  No.  He was in control tonight and let me know it.  He took from me.  With his hands tangled up into my hair so tight that I couldn't move while he fucked my mouth.

When he was done, he told me to go upstairs, undress, leave my clothes folded neatly, and wait at the foot of the bed.  I asked if I could shower first and he said I could, but to be quick.

I undressed in the bathroom, folding my clothes neatly as I was told.

After my shower, I quickly braided my hair, grabbed my stack of clothes, went into the bedroom, knelt at the foot of his bed and waited.  I was getting anxious and was beginning to tremble. 

tO came upstairs and started getting things ready.  He wouldn't look at me, or rather, he wouldn't meet my gaze. 

First thing he bound my hands together and hauled me up off the floor and hung me on the door hook, facing him.  He whispered in my ear a choice- the only thing I would have control over this night- "Clamp or my belt?"

I chose his belt.

He brushed it lightly against my thighs.  The first stroke was light but they got progressively harder.  My skin welted where his belt landed as he worked his way down my legs and up again.  He let some land across my belly and hips, and the belt wrapped around me like a hug.  I soon stopped squirming and sunk into my bonds. 

He took me down and untied my hands.  He sat me on the bed and started binding my arms behind me in a dragonfly sleeve.

He laid me back on the pillows and quickly got to work.  He was still in D mode, but something else had come over him.  He was working.

He pinched my nipple until it was erect and clamped the forceps on.  He had calmed me down enough with my beating that my trembling had stopped and I barely flinched when the needle passed through.  A few moments went by as he put the stainless barbell on my newly pierced nipple.

He untied me and led me to the mirror to see my new piercing.  I loved it. 

We laid down together and he held me.

I'm Not Avoiding Writing...

Really I'm not.  I am just having a really hard time remembering the sequence of events, and some of the details. 

Is this normal?  Is this a reaction to an emotionally and physically charged situation? 

I told the One what I wanted and asked him to do it to me.  I knew what was going to happen. 

When the time came, he took very good care of me.  He knew I was anxious & nervous.  He knew that what he was going to do was going to hurt me - a lot.  He took appropriate action.  I got a good beating with his belt which did two things: 1. calmed me down (I was in the foyer of sub-space)  and 2. released enough endorphins to help with the pain that was coming.

Did this also dull my senses enough that I wasn't cataloging what was going on?

I want to tell you all about my weekend. 

I just need to paste it together first... 

What I Need...

...is to be tied up, spanked, beat, kicked, spit on, cum on, tortured, burned, bruised, ignored, hurt and misused.

Ice

This arrived in my in-box today from The One.  Enjoy.  I did...a LOT.

"I like ice, all kinds of ice, in many different ways.  I always have.

Long before I studied it in preparation for traveling to the Arctic, I knew about it.  I grew up with it.  I knew that it came in many different forms.  I knew it's composition and unique physical qualities.  But far more than that, I knew on a more intimate level it held an erotic effect over the body and mind.

It's a dichotomy of sensations and characteristics.  Bitter cold yet it burns.  Hard to the touch, but still soft and malleable.  It's surface smooth and jagged all at once, pleasing to the more sensitive nerves of the body. Stimulating, soothing, pleasure and pain all at once.

In my glass it's clear and clean, irresistible to me.  I have to hold it in my mouth, roll it across my tongue and chew on it.  I feel it crack under my teeth and let it melt into my throat, nourishing my body and my senses.

In the wild it attracts and fascinates me.  So fragile that it vanishes like a wisp in the sun, yet powerful enough to carve mountain ranges and leave boulders the size of buildings hanging in solitary precipices.  Even the smallest vein cracks the strongest rock in winter and the thinnest layer underfoot can send us careening.  It forms on lakes, rivers and oceans.  Endures for years, millennia or moments.  Supports life and endangers it.  It is brief, yet enduring.

In private, intimate moments it stimulates the senses, arouses the nerve endings and numbs all at once.  It can speed our way to climax or slow it down, prolonging the experience just as it disappears in a trickle across the flesh.  It is cool to our heat, focus to our chaos, pleasure on pain and pain on pleasure.

I see it on your skin, tracing lines along the curves in your body.  Arousing your senses, drawing the blood to erogenous tissues and focusing you from the other distractions acting on your body.  In my hand it melts on you, the water drops trickling down your flesh.  Across your lips you taste it- clean, cold, refreshing, making you long for more.  Wet and hard it penetrates you, disappearing and leaving you longing for flesh to fill the void.  Your body reacts- hardening and writhing with pleasure as it melts on you and in you.

Yes, I do like ice."

Ribbon

I have orgasms in my sleep.  Quite frequently lately - about twice a week.  Sometimes I wake and find my hand between my legs; most of the time they happen on their own.

I got this in an email this morning from The One:

"Take a length of ribbon, black if you have it, something dark if you don't, tie it around your waist, tight enough that you know it's there but not so tight that you can't wear it all day. Take a picture of this and send it to me. Then you may get dressed."

I read the email, responded and rolled over to go back to sleep; the ribbon on my mind.

I woke later after an intense orgasm and wrote my dream out.  It was short, too short.  I would have loved to see where it went.

I was to be waiting for you when you came home, naked except for the ribbon tied around my waist and kneeling down on the floor in the center of your bedroom - sitting back on my heels, hands on my knees, eyes on the ground a few feet in front of me.

I heard the keys in the door and my heart took off, beating so hard I could feel it in my ears. You took your time downstairs before coming up to me.

You stood in front of me and held your hand out to me. I took it and you pulled me up to stand.

You kissed me, and with one hand while you were, you untied the ribbon and let it fall to the ground.

I came while you untied it.