Captive

L and I had a great three day weekend together, a much needed break from the trials and tribulations of day to day life. It has been some time since we were able to enjoy some time to ourselves, free from children, and a chance to continue the exploration of our relationship. Push limits. Tear down boundaries. Etc.

After spending the afternoon at a local hot springs, we checked into a hotel room for the night. Hotel rooms offer so many new avenues for exploration, ranging from the bed itself (King sized compared to our Queen at home), pieces of furniture to fuck on, doors to be tied to. I had a particular scenario in mind that I wanted to play out with L, and tonight was going to be our night to do it.

We checked in around 8p.m., and upon entering our room, were more than ready to devour each other after our trip to the hot springs. I told L that it would start at 10p.m. exactly, and she pushed to find out what "it" was exactly was, but I told her to be patient. She would soon find out.

We spent an hour or so on the bed, becoming more and more aroused as we surfed through YouPorn looking for videos containing BDSM. Around 9:30 I realized if we stayed in the room much longer, I would have a hard time containing myself prior to "it" beginning, so we decided to go down to soak in the hot tub downstairs. Prior to doing that, as L was putting on her swimsuit, I had her bend over the bed where I buried my rock hard cock deep inside of her, and just let it rest there for a minute, throbbing.

"You'll get more of that later," I said, withdrawing it quickly, then attempting to adjust it in such a way that it wouldn't be noticeable under my swim trunks. Not an easy endeavor.

To our dismay, the hotel hot tub had people in it, and we weren't really eager to mingle with others, so we stayed in for only a few minutes before going back upstairs. L change from her swimsuit to a new change of clothing I had instructed her to bring, the specific instructions being that she needs to wear something that she doesn't mind getting ruined. Including bra and panties.

9:50p.m.

"What am I supposed to do at 10p.m." L asked.

"Go sit in the chair over there," I said, pointing to the chair next to the desk.

10:00p.m.

L walked over and sat in the desk chair, and in her typical somewhat sassy self, spun around in it like a little kid. I went over to the suitcase and pulled out the box of tricks, and dimmed all of the lights in the room.

I went over and tied L's hands behind the chair, then her feet to the legs of the chair, and finally, using a t-shirt of mine, blindfolded her. Opening up my laptop, I cued up "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails and turned it up.

"I want you to just sit here and listen to the song," I said. "I will be here."

After about two minutes into the song, and unable to hear me, a small it of panic set in for L. "Are you here?" she said, her voice shaking. "Where are you?"

I went over and sat next to her and caressed her cheek. "I'm here," I said. "Do you trust me?"

"I trust you," she replied.

The song ended, and segued into Ravel's "Bolero."

It was time to begin.

Taking a pair of scissors I had brought, I walked over to her and ran the cold blades of the scissors along her neck and down her back, which she responded to with shudders that ran through her entire body. I opened and closed the scissors next to her ears, so she knew what I had in my hands.

Then I started, first with the shoulders of her blouse, cutting away on either side so her shirt dropped down a bit. I walked away, sat down on the bed and looked at her, then stood back up and went back in. 

Snip, snip. I cut away at her shirt, a piece here, a piece there. I cut across the front of her bra, and when her breasts were fully exposed, I slapped at them with my hand. Snip, snip, and holes were appearing in her yoga pants, and as skin was exposed, I would strike at it with my hands. As I cut away at her panties, with each piece I tossed it back at her, at her face, at her tits.

"What piece of music is this?" I asked her, about halfway in.

"I don't know," she whimpered. "Is it Beethoven?"

"No," I said. "It's Bolero by Ravel." And I continued working away on my project.

About 10 minutes later I asked her again what the piece was.

"Oh God, I can't remember," I said. "I can't think properly."

"It's Ravel by Bolero," I said again, and striked at her with the flogger I had now nearby, for her failure to properly identify the piece..

Eventually my captive was fully undressed, surrounded by a small pile of cut up clothes. Picking the flogger back up, I started lashing away at her, at her tits and legs. She squirmed in the chair, fighting against the restraints. To add to the experience, and to help with her soaking pussy, I took a dildo we typically use for anal play and shoved it deep inside of her.

My playing with her as she was tied to the chair would have lasted much longer, but reality (as it often does) set in, and she begged that she had to go pee. I untied her from the chair and with my hand squeezing her neck, guided her into the bathroom and sat her down on the toilet, where I made her suck on me while she pissed. At the end of her pissing, I thrust a hand underneath her, feeling the last drops of piss as I rubbed at her clit.

Grabbing the back of her neck again, I forced her over to the door of our room and had her face it, and tied her hands to the hinging system at the top of the door. Taking the flogger, I began lashing away at her back, with a nice, rhythmic pattern. Red stripes began to appear across her back, and between the sounds of the flogger striking her and her moans, I had to wonder what anyone wandering by was thinking.

I was beyond rock hard by then and in between flogging, I pressed my cock against the crack of her ass. It was more than time to fuck her by then, so I removed the restraints from her and guided her over to the bed and threw her down, face first. I slid into her from behind, and after getting permission from me, she came, and came hard. My own orgasm quickly followed, and I unloaded what seemed like an endless amount of cum into her soaking wet pussy. 

I'm glossing over the actual fucking part of the experience, because, one, it didn't last long, and two, it was not what the whole session was all about. I saw what we did that night as being one of the bigger tests of L since we started this relationship, and I am pleased to say she passed with flying colors. I wanted to push her, with no pushing back.

It takes a tremendous amount of trust for a woman to give that type of control to a man, and L gave that to me without question, without hesitation. She knew with unwavering confidence that she was going to be ok with me, and as she said after the experience, she certainly felt owned. 

For me, it was a very euphoric experience. The sight of her in that chair, fully restrained, pieces of clothing hanging off of her, was pretty damn arousing. Here is this woman that I love, and I will do with her as I please. Yes, there was something animalistic about it that I enjoyed, but mixed in with it equally was the incredible passion I had for her.

There was a lot more that happened over the weekend, new experiences, new discoveries, that I will write about later. 

The Shower

This was the Bukowski poem I was trying to find for L on Fuck Toy Friday, but it was not in any of the anthologies at the bookstore. I like this poem on many levels. As I told pet today, it reminds me of the two of us in some ways. I like the water hotter than she does.

It's just a nice poem. I am sure there are much better ways to describe it than "nice" but fuck it, that's all I got for right now.

Oh, and good old CB is not shy about using the word "cunt."

Enjoy.

"The Shower" by Charles Bukowski

we like to shower afterwards
(I like the water hotter than she)
and her face is always soft and peaceful
and she'll wash me first
spread the soap over my balls
lift the balls
squeeze them,
then wash the cock:
"hey, this thing is still hard!"
then get all the hair down there,-
the belly, the back, the neck, the legs,
I grin grin grin,
and then I wash her. . .
first the cunt, I
stand behind her, my cock in the cheeks of her ass
I gently soap up the cunt hairs,
wash there with a soothing motion,
I linger perhaps longer than necessary,
then I get the backs of the legs, the ass,
the back, the neck, I turn her, kiss her,
soap up the breasts, get them and the belly, the neck,
the fronts of the legs, the ankles, the feet,
and then the cunt, once more, for luck. . .
another kiss, and she gets out first,
toweling, sometimes singing while I stay in
turn the water on hotter
feeling the good times of love's miracle
I then get out. . .
it is usually mid-afternoon and quiet,
and getting dressed we talk about what else
there might be to do,
but being together solves most of it
for as long as those things stay solved
in the history of women and
man, it's different for each-
for me, it's splendid enough to remember
past the memories of pain and defeat and unhappiness:
when you take it away
do it slowly and easily
make it as if I were dying in my sleep instead of in
my life, amen.

Fuck Toy Friday, revisited

The rest of Fuck Toy Friday (see posting below) went, in my opinion, quite well. The best way to summarize is that I took things up....a notch or two.

Throughout the day I texted L different commands...asking her to squeeze and twist her nipples while at her desk, to go in the bathroom and put a finger inside of her. The commands were sporadic, and they were expected to be responded to immediately.

A little after lunchtime I sent L the following email:

Once off work go to Barnes and Noble. Go to the poetry section. Take the book "The Last Night of the Earth Poem" by Bukowski off of the shelf. Turn to page 118 and read the poem "Peace." Take the paper inside the book home with you.

A quick side note here as to the significance of Charles Bukwoski. On our first date three years ago, L mentioned to me something along the lines of reading Bukowski, which really took me by surprise, as I rarely came across any Bukowksi fans, let alone, female Bukowski fans. To this day we joke that she had me at Bukowski....

After work, L did as instructed and found the aforementioned book and read the poem "Peace." I had inserted the following poem into the book, that I had written earlier in the store's coffee shop on small sketch paper that I had just bought.

You are nothing but a

fuck toy

to me.

Reach inside your panties

and touch

a cunt

that I own.

Put a hand under your shirt

and squeeze

a nipple

that belongs to me

Sit down in a chair

on an ass

that is mine

to beat and fuck.

Nothing on you

belongs to you

but that is the price you pay

for the pleasure

of being my fuck toy.

Look in the mirror

and all that looks

back at you

is a fuck toy.

Say it now:

"I am Sir's fuck toy."

"I am Sir's fuck toy."

Say those words

with a mouth

that crave to be wrapped

around my cock

as I grab your hair and

fuck your face.

You are nothing but a 

fuck toy to me.

A place to deposit my cum

wherever I want.

But what I don't understand

is if you are nothing but a

fuck toy to me...

Then why am I

so mad

with desire

for you?

L then went home to an empty house as I had to work that night. However, she had instructions on what she was supposed to do once she got there, as outlined in an another email I had sent earlier in the day.

Assignment #2 will be waiting for you when you get home. There will be a note on your side of the bed with two specific tasks you are required to do. I don't know if you will care for either one of them that much, but as a fuck toy, you have no say in these matters.

Upon arriving home L found a manila envelope on her side of the bed which included a note along with a face paint crayon and a pair of her panties. She was instructed to wear the panties, which were still wet from me masturbating into them prior to my leaving for work. The second instruction was for her to write the word's "Sir's cunt" on her belly and text me the photo at some point during the evening. (That rather delicious photo is the one up above)

I got off work several hours later, and came home to a pet feeling very submissive and very owned, and after a day of tantalizing and teasing, was more than ready for the bedroom where an extensive flogging session took place followed by fucking. 

It was a good Fuck Toy Friday.

Can't wait for the next one.

Happy Fuck Toy Friday!

This morning before L left for work, after she had put on her thong panties that i enjoy so much on her, I instructed her to lie down on the bed, face first, as I wanted to do something to her to remind her of her being owned by me. She knew this moment was coming, that I had something planned, but had no clue at all what it might be. Pretty sure she was worried it was going to involve inserting something.

Which isn't a bad idea.

As she trembled nervously, I reached into my nightstand drawer and pulled out a red face paint marker I had purchased at the store last night. I wrote the words "Fuck Toy" across her ass, with "Fuck" on one cheek and "Toy" on the other. L was relieved that it was something as simple as that, and went into the bathroom to look in the mirror and see what I had written.

Once she had gotten to work, I sent her the following email.

Happy Fuck Toy Friday, everyone.....

L:

Written across your ass are the words "Fuck Toy" because it is the
best way to describe who you are to me today. You are my fuck toy,
plain and simple. Think about that, while you are at work. Remember
that every part of your body, your ass, cunt, tits, face..all of
it...belongs to me. I own it and control it and will do what I like
with it...when I like it. Think about that as you go around, working,
joking with your co-workers, keep that in the back of your mind all
day. Repeat that to yourself quietly.

"I am Sir's fuck toy."

"I am Sir's fuck toy."

When you go to the bathroom today, think about that as the piss
streams out of that beautifully shaved pussy, that you shaved so
carefully for my pleasure. That cunt you are pissing out of does not
belong to you. It's my possession, a hole for me to fill my cum with.
To play with, lick, taste, spank, finger, pound, and fuck. I could
instruct you to lie down in the bathtub, spread those pussy lips
apart, and I could stand over you and piss all over that cunt, if I
wanted to.

And what could you do about that? What could the sassy, assertive,
bold and take charge love of my life do about that?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You would have to lie there and take all
of it...pain and pleasure...like the fuck toy that you are.

Today is not a day of kindness and sweet romantic gestures, of
cuddling and gentleness. Today is Fuck Toy Friday, and I plan on
treating you in that manner. Using you in that manner. Brings pleasure
to me. And isn't that the most important thing here? My pleasure and
satisfaction?

Throughout the day today you will be me fuck toy mentally. I will send
you emails and text messages, sometimes with instructions, that will
remind you of your fuck toy status. Tonight, when I close and lock the
bedroom door, you will be my fuck toy physically. After a long day of
mental build up and anticipation, I trust we will both be more than
ready.

Whisper it to yourself right now.

"I am Sir's fuck toy."

I hope that this email find you exceptionally wet. Fuck toy.

--S

Cunt

There are numerous issues – gun control, abortion, gay marriage, global warming – that divide our nation, but one that rarely gets any attention is where we stand on the word “cunt.” I am, of course, being glib, but it is interesting where in a world where nothing seems to be taboo anymore, there exists this one word that for some, is so unspeakable that the best they can muster up is saying “the C word.”

I realize that there is a negative context surrounding the word, and when used under the guise of name-calling, it is quite ugly. But when it comes to labeling female anatomy, there is no better word in my book. And I have a lot of words in my book.

I want to fuck your cunt.

I want to taste your cunt.

This cunt belongs to me.

Do you want my cock in your wet cunt?

See, it just….works. Perhaps it is the taboo nature of the word, but it just packs a sexual power punch. The hardness of the word itself, beginning when that “c” rolls off of the tongue and ending just as soon as it began with that “t” that can just be drawn out for a bit more.

Say it with me. Don’t be shy.

Cunt.

The other day I had one of my most intense orgasms in quite some time. I was on top of L, fucking her, and when I came, her cunt muscles went into overdrive, and as one of my orgasms subsided, her oh so tight squeezing of my cock, the milking of my shaft, caused that orgasm to lead right into another and continued for much longer than I expected. I tend to come a lot, “copiously” as we like to say, but this…this was ridiculous.

I love L’s cunt, it is my kryptonite, weakens me at the knees, arouses passion and desire in me like nothing else. Last night as we lie in bed together, I rested my hand over her cunt, cupping it like a bird, feeling the heat radiate off of it. I fingered inside her. I circled her clit with my thumb. I spanked it, spreading her lips open just enough. After awhile, I could not resist the urge to replace hand with mouth, and I was down below her, forcing her legs apart and going in…where I tantalized her by nipping at her inner thighs as close to her cunt as I could without touching it. She began begging, even spreading her cunt apart with her hands, an open invitation, a plea for pleasure. I went in, but lightly blew on her cunt first, sending shivers up her spine. A dart with a tongue here. Another one there. Kisses to the clit. Driving her mad. Then my mouth was completely on her cunt, my tongue flickering away at her clit, and within seconds she was begging for permission to come, and I granted her permission as her wetness coated my mouth, and I savored her taste. Savored her smell.

Of her cunt.

Of the cunt that I own.

What does it mean? How does it feel?

What does it mean, how does it feel, to have a woman you love present herself to you in the manner depicted in this picture? So hard to explain to someone who isn't into "all of this" or simply views it as nothing more than sexual pleasure, the knowledge that she will do anything and everything sexually that you ask of her. Sex is a large component of it, true, but there are numerous factors that surround the sexuality that are essential to making it work. There are many men out there who should never be given the type of power that a sub gives a Dom, who are incapable of using it properly, and the end result would be soul-wrenching agony for the sub in question.

This is a very sexual and arousing picture, but when I see this, a myriad of other words pop up as well. Trust. Faith. Ownership. Love. Need. Want.

When L is in this position with me, I am flooded with a wave of feelings and emotions that sweep through my entire body, from the stirring of my cock to the beating of my heart to the thoughts that circle through my mind. My god, I think. The extent to which this woman before me, my love of life, trusts me and desires to please me, is incredible. In some ways, it is a feeling that describes description.

To some extent, it also has to do with the nature of L's personality, talked about may times in this blog. Bold and brassy, she is far from submissive in her day to day life in her interactions with her co-workers, her children, her friends. I am the silent and reserved one. That we have this dynamic between us that only we know about, that exits in the world that we call Ours, makes it all the more special. Can friends and family tell that she serves at my pleasure, that we have created this universe for us? No, they can't, nor do they need to. What matter is what we know. Carrying this out beyond the bedroom proves to be challenging at times, but we both know it is there. We can be at a social interaction, and I know that all I have to do is give her The Look to remind her of her place.

What does it mean, how does it feel?

I am still trying to figure a lot of that out. We are still trying to figure a lot of that. We are far from perfect, but making it work, learning from our mistakes and celebrating our successes.

What does it mean, how does it feel?

It means and feels....everything.

"Go away..."

I've posted before about how one of L's daily tasks (a list that is pretty short and rather kind) is to text me when she arrives to work and when she leaves work every day. Since that posting, she has faltered a couple of times, and each time always offered up some excuse, which infuriarted me even more. As I have explained to her, I don't want excuses from her. I want her apology, we deal with the infraction, and we move on. Besides, her excuse is a flimsy one, usually centering around how she was too busy.

One night last week I had her bring her phone to bed and I timed her how long it would take to remove the phone from her purse, turn it on, type the words "Here sir" and hit send. Total amount of time: 12 seconds. The lesson being, no matter how busy she was, she could easily take 12 seconds to abide by her rules.

Yesterday morning she forgot again, and this time, she had no excuse. She was quite honest, said she wasn't busy or anything, and offered what seemed to be a rather flippant apology.

As no other punishments seemed to come close to working, it was time to go in a different direction.

EMAIL FROM S TO L ON THURSDAY, JANUARY 31:

L:

"I will always let Sir know of my whereabouts."

Write this 150 times. Neatly.

Due by bedtime. You will kneel before me on the bedroom floor and
present me with your work. You will keep your head down and will not
make eye contact with me. You will not talk. Once I have inspected
your work you will be allowed to lift your head up and make eye
contact.

You also need to take a bath and shave before this takes place.

I'm irritated.

--M

REPLY FROM L TO S:

Yes Sir. I will try and do better. I was irritated with myself today.

L worked on the assignment throughout the day and early evening and after we had finally taken care of all of the family business and settled into bed for the night, I asked her to show me some work. She got out of bed and went over to my side of the bed and kneeled on the floor as instructed, head down, and held out her hands with her sheets of paper in them. I stood in front of her, took the papers from her, and reached up into the closet behind the box of tricks and took out my favorite instrument --- the riding crop.

I stood there in silence, going through all 150 of her entries, checking to make sure everything was spelled correctly and neatly. As I read, I lightly struck her with the riding crop --- along her face, on her shoulder, running it down her back and along the crack of her ass. It almost became a metronome, as I would gently smack it on her face in between reading each entry...read, SMACK, read SMACK...all this time she remained in her submissive position, completely knelt before me, silent except for the occasional moan.

After going through and checking for spelling and neatness, I went back another time to count them. From the first page, I counted 17 entries. There were seven full pages, and one page 2/3 written.

I did the math.

17 x 7 = 119.

The partial page had 14 entries.

119 + 14 = 133.

The assignment was for 150.

Whoops.

"Something is amiss here," I said quietly. "You are short."

"No!" she said, getting up before I had instructed her to. "Let me check my purse, I might have left a page in there." She got her purse out and rummage to it, then finding nothing, started looking for another blank piece of paper. "Let me finish it," she said.

"It doesn't work that way," I said. "The assignment required you to hand it to me complete, written 150 times."

And then I was on the bed with her, and I grabbed her hands and forced them behind her back. I had already gotten a couple of my neck ties in preparation for the evening, and using one of them, I tightly bound her hands behind her back, her face shoved into the blankets.

"We have to make up for the 17 missing ones," I said, picking the riding crop up off of the bed. 

I've used the riding crop on her before, but the problem is, it's so damn loud. Makes a slapping sound that seems to echo through the entire house. She needed to be punished, but it needed to be quiet.

The metal rod of the crop was perfect.

I started off gently at first, pressing the metal rod against her ass so she could get a sense of what it was going to feel like. I pulled the tip of it back, letting it spring back so the rod struck against her backside. It was quiet, but very effective, as a delicious red welt appeared almost immediately on her ass.

She whimpered in pain. "That hurts a lot," she said. "Please....."

"Please what?" I asked, as I did it again. "You know this has to happen."

The strikes fell harder, and I counted off the 17 she received. They affected her like no other implement I had used on her before, in part (as we discussed later that night) she did not get a chance to get into it and find her sub space so it was a pleasant experience. But my reasoning was that giving her that opportunity would be akin to a punishment. As a punishment, it needed to be immediate. It needed to have impact.

She needed to remember.

With five swats left, the tears began, which has only happened a couple of other times before. She was sobbing for it to be over, so I finished her off, the last one being the hardest one. Putting the riding crop away, I rubbed her wounds and kissed her backside to smooth her.

"Go away," she sobbed.

I know her better than she knows herself, and knew that me going away was the last thing she wanted. To double check, I placed my hand underneath her to inspect her pussy, which, to no big no surprise, was soaking wet. Even more so than usual. I ran a finger in between her folds and then inside her. Taking the finger out, I ran it along her mouth.

"This doesn't tell me to go away," I said. "Quite the contrary."

Grabbing one of the other neckties I had on the bed, I tied up her feet together then attached it to the tie that had bound her hands together, so she was completely restrained. I got off the bed and went over to her and knelt down so my face was next to hers, and I stroked her hair.

"Do you really want me to go away?" I asked her. "Because I can. I can just leave you like this."

"No sir," she said, "Please don't"

I stoop up so that my crotch was at her eye level, removed my belt and pulled my pants down, and presented her with my cock, which was more than ready for her attention. I forced it in her mouth and grabbed the back of her head so I could face fuck her. Her restraints posed some challenges, so I untied her and threw the ties down on her floor so she could give me better head. 

After a little bit of that, I flipped her over on the bed on her back and got on the bed with her, spreading her legs apart with my knees and lifting her ass closer to mine. "Time for you to get fucked, fuck toy," I told her, as I hovered over her, stroking myself. 

"Please...yes," she moaned. "Please fuck me hard...."

I thrust inside of her without hesitation, and within seconds of being inside her she begged permission to come. I pulled back out.

"Not just yet," I said.

Then I slammed back inside her again...hard...and her whole body convulsed from the impact. "Oh god, please let me come!" she begged.

"You can come," I said.

And no second had I said that did she come, and hard to, as I continued pounding inside of her, every inch deep inside, my balls smacking against her. Her orgasm was intense, and as it subsided, I flipped her over so I could fuck her from behind, her face smashed into the pillows as I raised one leg up so I could pound even harder and deeper, her cries from taking my size muffled by the pillows. She had a second orgasm, and the mine came also, and with a roar, I erupted inside of her, filling her up with even more of my hot cum than usual.

We collapsed on our sides of the bed, breathing hard, hands touching each other. We didn't say much at first...the whole experience for both of us was one of the more intense ones that we have had in awhile. We talked about what we both experienced, how it felt, my reiterating how what happened tonight truly had to be a punishment in order for her to be more obedient.

She texted me promptly from work this morning. Managed to find the 12 seconds to do what she was told.

We shall see what next week and beyond brings.

The taming continues.