A Question of Specifics in the Ultimate Sexual Fantasy

Sub hub in phx asked, "What are some of the specific things that you would include in your ultimate sexual fantasy?"

Ack. Nothing against the questioner, but I hate this question.

This is probably a pretty accurate picture of my face when I read it:

Yep that's me. The dog, not the fish.

Um...

*Watches the grass grow while crickets chirp uncomfortably*

These days, my ultimate sexual fantasy can pretty much be summed up by saying having the actual desire for sex, being alone with him for an entire night, and not having a headache. It's a lot to ask, I know.

But that wasn't really what you wanted to hear, was it?

Lets see how vague of answer is possible for such a specific question, shall we? Yes, let's. Lol.

Well...There would be humiliation. And control. Lots of control. There would be more than one man, and I would serve at Alpha's demand because that's what makes the fantasy attractive to me, what makes it somewhat acceptable in the recesses of my mind.
For me, his control is the only truly specific part of this fantasy. The situation is entirely controlled by him and continues through only at his direction. I am willing to acknowledge that this is due, in no small part, to the fact that him controlling every aspect in this fantasy is what makes me even remotely  okay with having it in the first place. There is, however, no denying the turn-on of the particular setting of this fantasy.

Of course, it's always worth remembering that the glorious thing about fantasies is that it doesn't really matter if one could actually cope with them in reality--that's why we call them fantasies.

So there you have it, "some" details!

Next up: Famous person I would like to be friends with...In which I admit that I failed to answer the question. It's sure to be a winner of a post!

Inside My Mind

A couple of days ago, I found myself doing something that I haven't done in a very long time. Searching around for readable smut. My Google history reads like a dark walk of shame at the moment, and I remembered why I quit reading stuff that gets me off--because we had reached the point in our power exchange where I would have to tell him what I was reading, or quit reading it.

Yep, I would have rather quit than admit to most some of the things that turn me on.

Honestly, I don't think I could watch most of the stuff that gets me hot to read. I just wouldn't want to.

I found myself dazing off into space, thinking about how twisted and strange I find some of the things that make me hot and bothered, when something else began bothering me...
It's odd
and it sounds kinda
well
stupid.
But
I had to tell him that I had been reading porn.
And I really
really
really didn't want him to ask what I had been reading about.
It has been a very long time since I felt so uncomfortable under his gaze. I mean, crawling out of my skin to go hide under a rock kind of uncomfortable.
And for that moment, he let it go--He did not ask what I had been reading that made me so squirmy. But he won't let it go forever.
He's an interesting man to live with. Often, he will barely respond to the most disturbing of admissions. At most he will become somewhat aloof and cold, which is scary and incredibly hot in a scary kind of way. Then at some later date in time...Days, weeks, months, a year, he will approach me with that cold aloof air. And everything comes back. In that moment, he takes away private thought, he wants to crawl around in my mind, he wants to know every little detail, and he will have what he wants.

I wonder if that is one of the things that has made me how I am today--feeling like I have to tell him what I'm putting into my mind. As if asking permission for what goes into and comes out of my body isn't enough...He doesn't just want to see, to know, to strip me down and invade completely--he wants me to look inside, to look him in the eyes, to accept, and admit...

Accepting the Darkness Within

That pesky drafts folder was piling up again...

For me, one of the beautiful things about D/s is being accepted for the darkness.
He loves the light and shine.
And the darkness.

Having someone peer into the darkest depths of your being, then continue to love and accept all that you are is...Freeing.

I have fantasies that he pried out of me word by painful word. And I was so sure that afterwards he would look at me like something nasty on the bottom of his boot, but he never has.
The closest that he ever came was a raised eyebrow and a shake of the head, followed by a smile and the statement, "My twisted little kitten."

For me, a big part of the D/s journey is about accepting my darker desires. Not necessarily having them come true, but accepting that I have them and that they are a part of me.
And accepting that I am not allowed to keep them locked up in my own mind, but must share them with him has been a large piece of that.
In all honesty, it is clearly something I still struggle with.

A great part of any acceptance I have gained lies in Alpha's acceptance, and the knowledge that any fantasy which becomes a reality does so only at his behest.

Our world is a complex web of opposites which cannot exist without each other. Where those lines intersect are the grey areas I have so much trouble with.
But without darkness, there can be no light.
And sometimes there is such a purity in the darkest moments, that the light becomes blinding.

I have found freedom in being owned. The freedom to acknowledge my darkness, and accept any forms it takes, because the direction it goes in is ultimately of his choosing.

No matter how twisted the desire, or how dark the fantasy, it is okay.
Because he will love and accept me anyways.
He chooses which ones come to fruition, and which ones merely rest beside us in the dark hours of night.

I think that one of the things which contributes to the sense of depth in D/s relationships, is that there is no hiding the darkness away and pretending that it isn't there.
The darkness is pulled out and inspected by the eyes whose opinions matter most. Then it is played with or quietly put away forever to remain where it belongs--a construct of the mind.

Yet either way, in shining light on the darkness, we are accepted for everything that we are.

I Can't Write Smut

"Sigh, I can't write smut."
Alpha rolled his eyes at me, "Of course you can, you can write whatever you want to. Just because you don't write smut doesn't mean that you can't."

Oh the terrible pain that occurs when someone else's confidence in me goes so far beyond my own that it's not even funny.

"But I can't even talk dirty!" His eyes took on that particular glint that they do when he's about to say something I want to disagree with but can't because lying is against the rules. "Mmhhmmm...You can talk dirty just fine when I make you beg for what you want."

Uh...
Well...
Yesss...
But...

"I hate it when you make me beg!" Naturally, in his ever sensitive manner, he laughed at me without even bothering to choke on it, "No you don't. You love it and you know you do. Don't make me prove it to you right now."

Oh fine. I suppose there's no sense in denying something that we both know to be true.

Over the next couple of days, I figured out why I can occasionally talk smut but cannot write it (most of my deep thinking takes place in the car, what can I say). It's because when I talk it, the goal is to turn him on and get him off. So it's geared towards his fantasies.
If I wrote it...Well that would be my fantasies--not his. And that is somehow far more difficult.

Funny how that works...

More About Fantasies

I could grumble about one of my email accounts getting hacked, or theorize about what exactly brought someone here off the search "constipated submissive" (not all hits are flattering. What can I say lol), or I could try to force out the draft that's been sitting for ages about trusting people to be who they are. But I'm striving for focus here people!
Can't you tell?

I'm talking about fantasies because I have such a difficult time with them. Well, that and I wandered around blogland yesterday, and read this.
Funny how something can inspire you as you realize that you have a completely different opinion about it than the writer did...But that is one of the beauties of inspiration right?

There was a time when it would never have occurred to me to share my fantasies with Alpha. Then he caught me acting out fantasies I previously never knew I had, online.
So He started pushing me to talk about them. And holy crap was it awful. You know that feeling when you're sure the sky is going to fall if you don't hurry up and crawl under a rock? Yep, that was how I felt.

But I think that was one of the things that helped us to discover O/our space--that place where anything can be said, any fantasy shared, any thought spoken, and it's okay. No matter what.

Many of the thoughts I have read online seem to lean in the direction that fantasies exist to be private--they are ours to hold and keep as our own.
And I'm not saying those thoughts are wrong because they illustrate the uniqueness of individual relationships and existence.

I believe that there is truth, and there is absolute truth (I'm still focusing. Promise).
Truth is what I and others believe it to be. But each person's is, to a large extent, dependent on them as an individual.
Absolute truth is like an un-bendable Universal law--it does not change or adapt itself to whatever we believe it to be or think it should be. It just...Is. And it's difficult to see because we already have our own truths, and sometimes they stand between us and that clearer absolute view.

For me, it feels like sharing my fantasies with Alpha brings us closer to that absolute truth. Because there, in that moment, there is no judgement, not even really my truth or his truth, just a complete removal of barriers between us.
Like humiliation and pain, and those huge life events that alter everything we think we know or thought we were, it brings us closer to the realm of absolute truth.

Interestingly enough, I don't feel the need to know all of Alpha's fantasies. Yes, I am curious (curiosity is a bit like thinking--dangerous stuff that), but I don't feel that knowing them would necessarily bring us closer. Or even that they are really any of my business.
Seems like there is a huge discrepancy in that statement doesn't it? And I'm not sure I quite have it figured out yet...I'm open to ideas on that one lol.
Maybe it is, in part, because I trust that I will know should he decide to make them a reality...

I think that sometimes we judge ourselves for our fantasies. And with that judgement comes a certainty that the world too will judge us. And perhaps that is true.
But when you share the most hidden thoughts that get you off and the person you tell doesn't gasp in horror and run away waving their little flag of morality? It can be a rather freeing experience.

There is definitely shame in admitting my fantasies. But there is something similar to punishment in doing so--a purity, a sense of absolution.
In admission of my dirtiest fantasies I have found a deep sense of release. Because it brings him one step deeper into my mind. And there is one less part that is only mine.
Oddly enough, the more of them I have shared, the less I have them...

I can't decide if this post is reflective of too much coffee or not enough...

But there's no point in beating a dead horse unless you're sure it has really bit the dust right?

Sharing Fantasies

When I woke up this morning, I had nothing in my brain besides weird dreams about sex, showers, and very large spiders, along with a somewhat inexplicable irritation with thing2. Not nesesarily in that order or in any way connected lol. SoI was quite happy to find an inkling of something completely unrelated to any of the above in my mind lol.
Fantasies...

I used to think of them as something to be kept locked away and never admitted to. Like a hidden shameful little gem that you never admit to having and only wear when no one is looking.
Ironically, I think that it was in being made to admit my fantasies that defined our first big steps into D/s.

Because when someone starts poking around in your mind for all those little gems you hold tight and secret, they have stepped into your inner sanctum. It begins stripping you of those walls that do so well at keeping your hidden self in and others out.

And I suppose that if your fantasies are about Unicorns and rainbows, it's not that difficult to admit them (though hmmm, Unicorns, that's beyond my kind of kink...So maybe that would be rough lol).

For me it's a bit humiliating and quite mortifying to look my husband in the eyes, (what is with the insistence on eye contact at the worst possible moments??) and admit fantasies that run the gambit of dirty from things that would be absolutely awful in real life to those that I now not so secretly, would like to come true.

The ones I would want to come true? Oh those are definitely harder to admit too, even if they are less drastic.

Does he know my deepest darkest fantasies? So far, yes. Fantasies are funny things though no? They tend to evolve with us.
Avoiding admission when he asks is not an option for me. He wants to know and he'll get that knowledge one way or another.

Has he told me his darkest fantasies? Truth be told, I don't know. I think that I do know his favorite one, and my part in it is small--as an unwilling observer so to speak.
He has told me fantasies that shocked the shit out of me but after thought, became something that I could rather easily see myself participating in.

Admission of our darkest fantasies, the thoughts and images we hold to ourselves in the dark, the ones that make us dripping wet with shame, that admission brings us closer.
Because we keep them so close inside ourselves. Hidden safely from the world. Until someone comes in and begins exploring the dark corners, dissecting what makes us tick. Or drip as the case may be.

Sometimes fantasies are the last vestiges of the things we keep as our own. And when we share them, not only are they no longer our personal inner property, they have served up that which we find most shameful and hot, into the hands of another.
So there is wonder about what they will do with those fantasies--will we be judged and condemned? Will they come to fruition? Or will they be accepted and stored away in that personal dungeon created inside our relationship?

Fantasy and reality

When Alpha first "suggested" (I know, give me my illusions lol) that I find a play party for us to go to as active participants, I figured He had been reading the blogs on my list and was just fucking with my head. When I said so, He looked at me like I had just turned green and sprouted horns--I checked, my color is a bit off but no visible horns I swear. I was a bit surprised. After all, this is someone who tends to be an intensely private person. I spent the day thinking about it and well, it's an exciting thought. Then I spent the next day thinking about the basic logistics. There's all these happy-go-lucky people who just pop out and do whatever they want whenever they want to. The people who are always the first to say "I keep my sub chained to the bed. We are Really 24/7." I won't elaborate on the general sarcastic nature of my thoughts but it all revolved around the realities of keeping life running and finding a babysitter. So my next day wasn't spent in anticipation, it was spent wondering how the hell I am going to set up over 24 hours worth of babysitting more than two days in advance lol. And then last night on my way home from work (I think to much and my hour long drive in the car is often an excessive breeding ground for it), I had a moment of panic. So I have some seriously exhibitionist fantasies...but under and over them, I'm shy. My sexual partners have been limited to just a few and the thought of anyone besides Alpha seeing me "in action" so to speak, is rather nerve-wracking. I have to admit, the possibility doesn't seem real. Nothing ever does until it happens I guess.

The usual randomness...

I'm great at filtering myself (well, in all honesty, I have been told that my brain to mouth filtering is total shit lol) But that's not what Alpha wants. He wants me raw, honest, unhampered by the bounds of what I think sounds right. He want's it straight from my mind without that careful crafting to make it sound acceptable. He wants that first thought (you know, the shit that after you say it, your thinking "oh crap"). This gets me into trouble sometimes because He's not always happy with what He hears. But, for me, that's one of the most incredible things about D/s--It's like being in a storm. The kind of storm where the rain is pouring down, lightning is striking, and the elements take over. And you're drenched to the core but it doesn't matter because there is nothing but the storm, flying on the electricity of it, floating in the rain as it washes your soul clean. It's primal and fierce. Like experiencing birth or death, it takes you to that place where everything superficial is washed away and only the basic elements of being exist.

That little tidbit is what I had in my brain for a post last night. Events of last night expanded my thoughts in a different direction. I'm getting used to being the one who shares fantasies that make me cringe (lol, I wanna know when things like being made to suck someone else's cock and Alpha pissing all over me in a room full of people became some of my Less twisted fantasies). Anyways, He was fucking me and He asked me if I knew why He always asks me questions me questions during. My hazy reply was no, but I have always wondered (really, it drives me up the fucking wall). His answer was because my body is like a lie detector--I can swear up and down that something doesn't turn me on but my body will betray me no matter what my mind thinks. Damn thing.

Alpha grabbed my head and looked me in the eye. Brushing the hair back from my face He said "no matter how I may surprise you, no matter how I may scare you, no matter how I may fuck up along the way; know that I love you and you will always be mine." I must say, for some reason, those words melted me...Then He proceeded to tell me things I would have never in a million years imagined could be floating around in His head. Lets just say, He took the concept of Dominance to whole new levels. And I should have left it at that, I mean it's not often He actually shares a fantasy or mindset that makes mine look like child's play. But it was actually a fantasy He Himself didn't understand. Also a rare gem from someone who's always so damned self-assured lol. So, I didn't leave it at that. I proceeded to admit to a whole new level of twisted. The response was something to the effect of me making Him look like a vanilla dabbler. And that maybe He's not more twisted than me after all.
For the record, I disagree.

Fact and fantasy

Okay, so I read a post this morning that got me to thinking about things other than bitching. Yay lol. Nilla did a post  (ooh see, I made a link this time) about why rape fantasies are a turn on. That's actually something I have thought about a lot because I have conflicting emotions about the topic. I have grown enough to accept that I'm a twisted slut but not quite enough to really be comfortable with all the aspects of it. One of those aspects is my fascination with rape fantasies. It was really hard to admit I had them at all. In fact, I resorted to my blog as a way of telling Alpha about them. While He happily decided to fulfill the fantasy, I think that overall He has some reservations about exploring the concept more deeply. When you have actually experienced rape, weird things happen at odd times. For the most part I'm fine. Occasionally, the random, innocuous little event happens, that funky switch flips, and suddenly things aren't okay. So when it comes right down to it, Alpha is afraid of breaking me (yes, Dominants are human too. For the most part lol). I don't know where the line is so I rely on Him to walk it. I would be a terrible Dominant lol.

So, my  question to is this: why are rape fantasies a turn on if you know from personal experience how awful the real thing is?

Dreams, what wicked things they can be

 He grabs me. Dragging into a bedroom He rips my clothes off and throws me on the bed with my ass in the air. i feel the cold hard steel of a gun barrel pressed against the side of my head as He thrusts in and out of me, using me purely for His own pleasure.
So what's more fucked up, that i had the dream, or that i found it a turn-on? It's a rhetorical question, not sure i really want to know what anyone thinks about that lol. The next morning when i admit my dream to M in the light of day *shudder*, He smiles softly at me and brushes a tendril of hair out of my face. "My damaged little one. That was an option but I didn't want to break you."
Everyone has fantasies. i don't care who you are, what you do, or how kinky you aren't. The only real differences are how extreme our fantasies are, and whether or not we admit to having them.

Tied, part I

Her Master opened the door and gestured her to walk through it. Stepping into the room she saw a bed, armchairs, and the standard hotel room cabinet hiding a television she was pretty sure she wasn't going to see. He tossed their luggage haphazardly in a pile and dropped languidly into one of the armchairs. His eyes twinkled sadistically as He ordered her to strip. "Now?" She protested, wistfully eying the other armchair and huge gilded tub in the bathroom. He arched an eyebrow at her "are you telling Me no little one?" His tone was quiet. The kind of quiet that says it's not really a question and there's only one right answer anyways. Pouting she slipped her t-shirt over her head and slid her jeans down. Kicking them off she, directed her attention to the thin black thong that really offered no coverage to her smoothly shaved pussy. "Leave it" He commanded. Pointing at the small black suitcase at His feet He ordered her to open it. "cuffs, blindfold, gag, rope, clips, and knife. Lay them out on the nightstand." She obeyed, glancing nervously at the open curtains pulled back to reveal full length panes of glass. His looked at her "don't you dare close those curtains little one. No one can see from down on the ground and anyone who can see from that building will just be getting a nice show now won't they." She felt the heat in her face traveling uncomfortably down her body and settling into her core. "Sadistic bastard." He grinned shamelessly at her. "That's right, and don't you forget it. Now, on the bed on your back. She sighed resignedly and pulled back the blankets settling herself onto the bed. He slipped a line of rope through the headboard and picked up the cuffs. Black leather lined with red felt and covered in o-rings. After fastening them around her wrists, He pulled her hands up above her head and and hooked the cuffs to pre-tied loops in the rope. He always used hooks that she could undo herself if she had to. She had only unhooked herself once in the heat of the moment. She cringed at the memory. Every action has consequences. He proceeded to cuff her ankles and hook them to a rope He had tied to the bedposts spreading her legs wide as He did so. He took a moment to inspect her pussy, spread open and beginning to get wet in anticipation. He knew it made her uncomfortable to be stared at like that and He smiled sadistically as she began to squirm. Then came the blindfold. As her world sank into darkness she began to struggle slightly. He bent over her, grabbing her by the back of the head "do you trust me completely?" She let out the breath she wasn't aware she had been holding, "yes Master. i trust you completely." He let go of her hair. "Good." As the gag slipped between her lips He said, "remember that. Remember that i protect you. And in return, you submit to me and i own you. Mind, body, and soul. I own you little one." She nodded silently. Her other senses began compensating for the loss of sight. She heard Him moving around the room. Heard the door open and close. She whimpered through the gag, begging incoherently for some sign that He was still there. He had never tied her up and left before! But there were no reassuring words of his presence. She fell silent and listened carefully to the lack of sound in the room. He was gone. She repressed a moment of panic at being left alone tied to the bed in a hotel room in a strange city. After what seemed like an eternity, there was a sound of a key in the lock and the door sliding open. She gave a sigh of relief, followed by a nervous unintelligible plea for Him to say something. "Damn, there really is a naked woman tied to the bed." She froze. That was not her Master's voice. She listened, waiting to hear His voice replying to the unknown man. The reply never came. She heard footsteps as the man moved to stand beside the bed. She began struggling, not undoing the hooks was so ingrained in her that releasing herself wasn't even a thought. "mmmm" the unknown voice was very close now. The sound of a zipper being undone was loud as cymbals in the otherwise silent room. Fear flooded through her, disconcertingly leading to a growing wet patch between her legs. The sound of the knife being removed from the bedside table wrenched a strangled squeal out of the gag. She felt it slide up her thigh and froze, moaning in fear and anticipation. The knife slid slowly up the crack of her ass slicing the black thong off leaving her completely exposed. She tried  to close her legs in a futile effort to hide her dripping pussy and the evidence of what a whore she was that it so clearly displayed. Where was Master? She tried to think through the fog. Subspace had consumed her and she was no longer functional enough to form a complete thought. His words echoed in her mind, "do you trust me completely?" She tensed slightly as hands slid up her thighs, dipping slightly into her wetness. Abruptly, the hand withdrew and she felt herself blushing from head to toe in shame. Then a wet stream of piss began to splash across her back and she panicked. Master had agreed that no other man would ever be allowed to mark her their property like a common animal. She began flailing around and clawing at the hooks that kept her hands tied to the bed. Suddenly, a large familiar hand wrapped around her throat and squeezed tightly. "you said you trust me completely My little one."

Damn sandbox...

"When are you going to learn little one, that there's times to talk back, in fact, there's times when i expect it, and there's times when you do not talk back, you just do as you are told. Your only reply is 'yes Master'." Ouchhhh. i'm a slow learner.
The edge is a very fine line. It's like balancing on a string and not falling off. Honestly, i don't know how He walks that line but it impresses the shit out of me and i'm very greatful for the balance He keeps us in.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He walked up behind me and grabbed my hair. Pulling my head back, He whispered in my ear "I'm going to fuck you, and while I'm doing it, I'm going to be thinking about fucking another woman." i sputtered and pointed out the rudeness of it all. He laughed, "and you're going to be thinking about it too." Wtf...As He slid into me He made sure we were thinking the same fantasy..."We are going to go see her, have some food and coffee, then drive to a remote place. On the way, I'll get her hot and bothered while you squirm. When I stop the car I'm going to tie you to the front bumper, squatting with your hands tied above your head. I'm going to grab her by the throat and push her to her knees. Inches from your face, I'm going to slide my cock down her throat. When she does a good job, i'm going to pull out of her mouth and explode in yours."
"Now, next time you talk to her, you are going to tell her all of this. And then, you are going to ask her what she thinks."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sadistic bastard.

Fantasies i try not to share with myself...

Talking with myself yesterday about my issues brought up another issue. Well, not so much an issue as a fantasy that's probably a really bad idea to play out because of my past. As much of an eye as M keeps on my mental health, i'm not even sure He would do it. Rape scenes fascinate me. Weirdly enough, i do have fantasies about rape but they all involve M saving me. That one as an acted out fantasy would be a disaster lol. It would be like signing some poor man up for execution.
By all rights, i should have no interest or curiosity in acting out rape fantasies of any kind. The thought itself should have me curled up in a ball...Yet it's there. I think it's the one fantasy i may have never shared with M (until He reads this lol). i'm not sure why i have kept this one to myself. i bury it so far down that it doesn't even occur to me when i'm in space and He's making Him share my fantasies. i mean, i have told Him of far dirtier and twisted fantasies so why is this one different? It's not because it's taboo, i mean, it's taboo to admit i'm enough of a whore that i have the fantasy of a group of men cumming all over me (yea, that one was hard to admit). Yet, at the same time, not all fantasies were meant to become reality. Just because i have a fantasy of being used by two men at once, doesn't mean i could physically or emotionally handle it. M is my gage of what i can and cannot cope with. And i'll admit, it's probably a shitty job to have. i appreciate that M is careful with my mind and heart; even when it comes to His own fantasies. He wants to play with another woman and He wants me to find her; however, He questions my ability to cope with it. He decided that it would be best to start online--i find Him someone to play with and then possibly move the fantasy to real life. i'm falling on my face with that. i started really trying--just being myself and admitting right off the bat that i'm a jealous little slut, what i'm looking for, and why. As soon as i took that route, i became far more gracefully accepting of the idea and felt less resentment. Still shitty at picking up women though lol as i have made no progress whatsoever.

Another completely unrelated thing i have been thinking about is space. Subspace, Domspace, O/our space. Last night, for some reason, i had a really hard time going down. i don't know why. i wasn't thinking about anything in particular, i didn't have something weighing on my mind, i just couldn't go down deep. M asked me why i was fighting Him, and i honestly couldn't say. He knows in an instant if i'm not in space. Its a place we share together and He's not happy if i'm not in it. A lot of people talk about subspace, some people talk about Domspace (like a rare event), but i haven't found anyone who talks about O/our space (if it's there to read and i have been blind, someone please send me the link lol). It's the place we both go when we play together. So, for us, is there subspace and Domspace, or is it all O/our space? i think that when i'm floating around the house and He's keeping me down with that sadistically pleasured glint in His eyes, i'm in subspace. When we are along together, and He's swimming in my mind, we are in O/our space...
i really need to work on my conclusions lol. Children make them near impossible.

Coffee and french toast

Been sick for days and had to miss work again which kind of sucks because we really needed the check, but such is life.
Been thinking a lot lately about M's desire to play with another woman. Jealousy is a really hard emotion for me to control. I used to check out other women with Him. He asked me what changed and i had no response, but i did think about it. The conclusion i came to is that i used to be a lot happier with my body. i'm far more comfortable with who i am now, and i know that i don't have an ugly body, came back down to a bit underweight after both kids, but i used to have an awesome body and it's not coming back lol. I decided to take a different approach to the whole playing with someone else thing. If i'm really going to do as He has asked, i need to approach it in a very me kind of way. i guess it's taking an emotional chance by trying to find someone i can talk to and be friends with, because it will create more of an emotional connection between them as opposed to just a random plaything here and there, but if i don't, jealousy is going to eat me up more i think. i also discovered something rather personally irritating to me--i am far more disturbed by women who are disrespectful and untruthful with Him than i am with Him playing with another. Actually, it really pisses me off lol. He told me that if He ever were to physically be with another woman, it had to be someone i could sit and have coffee with in the morning. Okay, so when i'm feeling unstable, the concept of having coffee and french toast with a woman my husband just fucked is really horrifying. At the same time, D/s is about trust. We can't go vanilla for the night to accommodate someone else so she has to be submissive, or at least comfortable with it, which means she has to feel comfortable and safe enough with us to be a part of that dynamic and have coffee and french toast too, so it's a two way street.
Anyways, those are the musings of my illness laden mind for the morning lol. My house is completely thrashed from everyone being sick so i had better get off my ass and do something about it.

Mind fuck

I was reading a thread on Fetlife about what is a mind fuck. Hmmm, little did I know, M does it to me all the time lol. It's a mindfuck when i'm curled up on my knees in the cold empty bathtub and M walks out of the room, leaving me waiting...for what i'm not sure, it's a mindfuck when M tells me to find Him another woman, it's a mind fuck when M makes me talk about my fantasies or the things i have done in the past without Him. There's all sorts of mindfucks.
One thing I didn't see in the thread was anything about the other kind of mind fuck. Something M is also quite fond of and it's my favorite kind. When He crawls inside my being with His mind and I can feel Him touching me without His body. His fingers caress my soul and there's the almost physical sensation of Him sliding in me. It's a real elevator ride down into space. Hmm, that ended up being a very short thought burst. Apparently just thinking about it turns my brain to mush lol.

Wrote this like a week ago. Since i doubt i will ever be able to "finish" it, i'll post it anyways lol.

Owned, part I

She met Him at the door wearing only her collar. A piece composed of a series of small metal circles which lay comfortingly across her collarbone. Kneeling at His feet she removed His shoes and bowed her head. His bottomless brown eyes, surrounded by eyelashes that went on forever, glinted slightly as He touched her hands and motioned her gently to her feet. "Miss me little one?" "So very much Master" she replied feeling a slight shiver roll down her spine. He smacked her ass lightly, "help me out of these clothes." She slid His shirt up over His shoulders watching the muscles ripple in the soft candle light as He shrugged it off. Sinking back down to her knees she unfastened His belt. The sound His belt buckle made as she undid the fastenings made her shake slightly. The belt was more punishment than pleasure and He took His time when He chose to use it on her delicate flesh. She could feel Him smiling at the top of her head. He knew what she was thinking and found it rather amusing. She slipped His pants off and reached for His underwear, sliding it slowly down His legs. Looking up at Him from the floor, she felt like a miniature figurine. He towered over her all muscle and golden hair. "Go get in the shower little one--I want you clean and ready for inspection." She rose slowly to her feet, blushing at the thought of His face inches from her body, strong fingers prodding and checking as He assured Himself she had done the job properly.


Stepping into the shower she winced as unbearably hot water splashed across her skin. Turning down the temperature she melted under the water her mind consumed with thoughts of Him. She heard the bathroom door open and jumped slightly, aware that she hadn't even touched the soap yet. "I'm sorry, I'll be out in a minute she said." He raised an eyebrow slightly as He looked her up and down. His glance slid beneath her skin and invaded her soul as He took in every square inch of her physical form. He moved silently into the shower without taking His eyes off of her. With a steely grin, He reached for the water, she flinched as it returned to it's previously painful temperature. He settled His fingers firmly into her hair. It was not a rough touch, but one that forbid resistance as He pulled her under the flowing water. He motioned wordlessly for the soap and began washing her hair. Each one of her hands was the size of her head. A hand drifted down, grasping her throat and she floated mindlessly in the knowledge that He could snap her neck with one flick of his wrist. His hands continued to roam, spreading soap all over her body until He was satisfied with His work. He held her under the water for a minute. Then suddenly He pulled her head downward, in an unmistakable command. Sinking to her knees she felt His long hard cock slide into her mouth, continuing down her throat until she heaved involuntarily, her body pulling mindlessly away. His fingers tightened in her hair, motionless and unyielding keeping His cock buried in her throat. Suddenly He yanked her head back and pulled her to her feet. "Good job little one" He whispered in her ear as He steadied her. Somehow she had lost the ability to balance on her own. She tried to focus her eyes on His face. Her eyes told her He had a satisifed and slightly amused expression but her brain lacked the capability ot interpret it.