punching and fucking

Over the close to four years since L and I have been immersed in our D/s relationship we have discovered a number of different methods to find pleasure in the midst of pain. I do believe that even to this day, as we shed our rookie status in these endeavors, it still sometimes surprises L how intense those feelings of pleasure can be when the method being used is far from conventional.

"What do you do to me?" she will murmur at the end of a lengthy session, as she floats through the world of subspace, curled up in the fetal position next to me.

We have tried different instruments over the years, ordered a variety of devices from The Stockroom. There has been the flogger with the beaded tips, the cane, the whip, and over the last several onths or so, a highly effective and heavy rug beater. which I once demonstrated for my readers in the following video.

Then there have been items from around the house. A plastic coat hanger. Wooden spoons. Her collar. My belt. One time, on the deck of the cabin I used to live in, a branch from a nearby tree.

What device I use on any given night depends on the proximity of children. So those items that can inflict pain while at the same time not be hear beyond the bedroom door are quite popular. This of course eliminates my hand and the pleasure of a proper spanking.

But my hand closed into a fist is not as loud as a flat hand.

And it is much more effective.

Punching L's ass in  a session has been a glorious undertaking for both of us. There is something about the impact of it that soaks her instantly and throws her into the depths of sub space within minutes. Alternating between one cheek, and then the next...the marks appearing instantly. It's a satisfying feeling for me as well, the brutality of it that appeals to my sadistic side. But it is satisfying more than anything because when I stop punching and thrust my fingers into her cunt, they emerge a wet, sticky mess.

One cheek, then the next. The other night she started shifting and squirming as the punching continued, the pleasure escalating to something more intense, and sensing what was about to happen, I granted her permission.

"Come for me," I said. PUNCH. "Come for me now." PUNCH

And she came, and with her orgasm came a gush of wetness that coated the sheets. I stopped punching, gave her seconds to recover and to wipe out before I flipped her over on her back and spread her legs apart and teased her clit with my hardness before I thrust it inside her. Nothing gentle, nothing soft. I fucked her in the same way I punched her, hard and without mercy. She came once that way, and then I flipped her back over to fuck her from behind, bringing her to her next orgasm before mine followed.

When your foreplay involves punching, making love does not follow.

You FUCK.

Punching and fucking.

Fucking and punching.

We would not want it any other way.

parts

It was a session to end all sessions that night...one hours? Two hours? I had been gone for a week and we were both hungry.

In the middle of all of it, as we caught our breath before going on to something else, there was this moment; I don't have a foot fetish but if I did I would be in heaven with the stocking-clad lovelies that my pet has. I was fixated on them at that moment, I wanted to feel myself pressed up against them, to run the head of my cock along the bottom of her soles. I have never had a foot job, but at that moment, I could see how it would be nice; for her to stroke me to completion with her feet, my cum dripping down on her, seeping through her stockings. Making her all sticky, and whatnot.

We did not get that far. I am sure it would have been nice, but those feet are connected to legs, and further up those legs, in between them if you want me to get specific, was a cunt just as lovely as those feet, and it was there that moments after this picture was taken I found my pleasure.

final fuck/first fuck

There was very little that differentiated the final fuck of 2015 from the first fuck of 2016.

Neither one of them were fucks that were outside of the norm of our regular fucks; for that matter, they veered towards the vanilla. Neither one of them came as a finale to a lengthy BDSM session, contained any type of physical force on my behalf, or were necessarily raw or extremely passionate.

They were, quite simply, fucks.

And damn good ones at that.

The final fuck of 2015 took place around 11:30p.m. December 30. We both had to work the next day and had already stayed up too late watching “Breaking Bad” (which we only recently started viewing, early adapters we are not). The lights had gone out, L was lying next to me collared, and it appeared at first that the night was going to come to a close without any type of sexual activity.

But then, as I often do, I started thinking about, well, things, and before I knew it I had a rather substantial erection in need of attention which I informed L of. I do not believe she was in a similar mood, but with all that “I live to please you” focus in mind, she reached over and gave said erection a few strokes, a lick of the head, and then she was climbing on top of me and easing me inside of her. She proceeded to ride me, and I raised my hips up to match her movements, enjoying the visual aspect of her arched silhouette in the darkness. Minutes later, I thrust up one more time and unloaded as her cunt squeezed every last drop out of me.

Minutes after that, slumber, and the final fuck of 2015 was one for the books.

The first fuck of 2016 took place about two hours ago at 2p.m. on January 1. We had stayed out late, drinking and dancing, and when we fell into bed around 2a.m. I simply did not have it in me to do anything sexual.

But 12 hours later, as I rested in bed next to L, the “hangover hornies” came visiting, thanks in part to (a) L’s lovely bare ass was sticking out of her nightgown, tempting me to take her; (b) I had spent part of the morning enjoying the recently discovered blog of the Girl on the Net, which inspired me greatly to both want to fuck AND write.

Similar to the last fuck of 2015, I informed L of my erection, this time by pushing up against her bare ass, the head of my cock sticking over the top of my cotton shorts. “I can’t do much,” she said, still weary from the night before. “Can I just lie here?”

“That will work,” I said, as I took my shorts off as she rolled over on her back and spread her legs, informing me of how warm she was down below.

She was warm. And wet. And tight. I propped myself up with my arms as I slid insider her, slowly at first, enjoying that first feeling of penetration as she accommodated me. And then, fucking. Not too hard, not too soft…just right.

“My god I love fucking you,” I told her.

Then I came, quite forcefully and quite copiously, to the extent that the handful of tissue she had by her side of the bed did little to contain the aftermath that started running down her thigh as soon as I pulled out. Getting off the bed, I tucked my sticky cock back inside my shorts, as L rolled over to take a nap.

“I’m just going to sleep for a bit,” she murmured. “But feel free to come back in here anytime to use me. Just roll me over.”

With that, the first fuck of 2016 was also one for the books.

There was very little that differentiated the first fuck of 2016 from the final fuck of 2015.

They were, quite simply, fucks.

And damn good ones at that.

Happy new year everyone.

What's not to love...

...when you are a fortunate enough Dom to lie in bed and have this lovely sub to admire?

Extra fortunate when you take into consideration the heat and wetness radiating from that special place that L is touching with her hands.

I can do anything....

It is a chilly Sunday morning where we live, and I am up before everyone else, drinking coffee and doing some chores before the day begins with all of the family activities that make up our busy weekends.

L is sound asleep in bed, still wearing the black negligee she wore to bed last night for our session. If I were to choose, her slumbering could come to an immediate end. I could go in the bedroom, lock the door behind me, and get in bed next to her. I could awaken her by presenting her with my cock, most likely still smelling of sex from our combined juices the night before, and have her start sucking on it even before she was fully awake. I could have her suck on it to complete hardness, my hand guiding the back of my head, my sounds showing my approval. Once completely hard and throbbing, I could withdraw from her mouth, spread her legs apart, and slide inside of her; not gently, not intimately, not nicely, but forcefully, filling her cunt with my presence, fucking her hard and urgently with regard for nothing but my own orgasm and desire to fill her with my cum much as I had done hours ago, and with last night's ejaculation still dry on her thighs after it leaked out of her. I could do that, and then withdraw, give her a tender kiss on the forehead and tell her what a good pet she was, and then go back to my morning tasks.

I could do those things. And anything else I wanted. At anytime.

But that doesn't always mean that I should do those things.

I believe the true definition of power is how you choose not to use it as opposed to how you use it. When L signed our D/s contract more than three years ago, she did so knowing that she could completely trust me with the control she was giving to me, and I believe I have done a good job of meeting those expectations. We have taken it to extreme levels at times, as readers of this blog know...rape scenes, threesomes, public play...but in all of these instances I have been mindful of her needs and the affect anything we did would have on her.

In my closet there is a box full of toys that have been used on L at various times over the years, some more than others, some hardly at all. The anal hook she gave me as a gift a couple of years ago has only been used once; for that matter, anal play is something we rarely do which is why last night after a thorough session of caning her, I reintroduced her to the rather large butt plug that hadn't made an appearance in quite some time. The intention was to use it to prepare her ass for my own cock, which made L very nervous and wasn't something she necessarily wanted to do, but...did I mention I can do anything that I want? I got her ass nice and prepared with the red butt plug, watching as I inserted it deep into her tight ass while my fingers worked magic on her dripping cunt and swollen clit, and when I was done playing with her and deciding my options on which hole I would use to satisfy myself, opted for the cunt. Because it is a delicious cunt, and each time I fuck it it feels like the first time.

So that is what I did.

But I could have fucked her up the ass.

One of the things I enjoy about this relationship is challenging myself, inserting control over my own desires as opposed to hers. I try to hold off on m own orgasm when fucking L for as long as I can. When we start a session I often times want to just leave the cane in the closet, or whatever other device I am using that night, and simply just fuck her.

There are many other things I want to do with L that we have not done yet; she is aware of my desires and fantasies. I like to draw those things out, present them when the moment is like, plan things carefully, and not rush through things like a bull in a China shop. With that comes the thrill of anticipation, and greater fulfillment for the two of us.

Now, if you'll excuse me, the day is about to begin here and I need to go back to the bedroom. I have a fucktoy in there and a certain part of me is in need of some attention from her.

Hello...

To quote Adele, hello.

It certainly has been a great deal of time since I last posted to this blog, more than two months.  I would like to say, as a followup to my last posting, that my time has been preoccupied with implementing a strict daily work out routine and since my last posting, have returned to a top shape, physically healthy body.

I would like to say that...but I can't.

No, my lack of posting has had more to do with the last month and a half preoccupied with an intense travel schedule for my job that has had me away from home more than I have been around it. Which is a difficult endeavor for any relationship to navigate, and I think that is especially true when D/s dynamics are involved. One moment I am around as the HOH, the one in charge, and then I am gone, and without me around, L has to become the one in charge, not to mention feeling somewhat lost (despite the fact that she is a very strong and independent woman) without my guidance.

We try to set up rules and guidelines while I am gone, little routine matters, but even that becomes difficult when the separation is thousands of miles and in completely opposite time zones. During one of my trips L came out and stated flatly that she could not do the D/s dynamics while I was gone, that she did not like the idea of being controlled from afar. For me, having that dynamic exist no matter the distance was something I held on to while on those trips, her gestures of submission from afar helped me get through the day.

I came back from that trip, we worked through some things, but less than a week later I was off again for another trip. This one was different as part way through L was able to join me in Beijing and we had a much needed 10 day vacation.

We reconnected quite well during that vacation, had an amazing time together, though, interestingly enough, the D/s dynamics were not front and center. It is odd that when we are on vacation and we have these marvelous hotel rooms with no kids around that our sessions would become longer and more intensive...neighbors be damned!...but that is rarely the case. The dynamics are there, but behind the scenes, playing a small but important role in how we go about our day to day lives as opposed to what happens in the bedroom. As we reflected on on this last trip, we did not bicker once, and even after sitting next to each other on an airplane for close to 15 hours, the first thing we wanted to do when we got home was to still be together.

The D/s dynamics might not have been there so much in the bedroom while on vacation, but they certainly resurfaced once we got home, and almost immediately. Saturday night we had a session that lasted more than two hours, starting off with L joining me in the shower for a long overdue act of me marking my territory as she kneeled before me and I coated her with my piss. That act right there, I think, turned a switch on for the two of us that led up to the two hour session that followed, with even after that, had L begging for more. Wanting it all. Needing it all. Arching her neck up to me, wanting the feeling of my hand wrapped around it, squeezing her, taking away her right to breathe while my other hand explored the wetness that was so prevalent this weekend. We discovered that the handle end of my whip, complete with little spikes, made a far more effective spanking tool than the whip end did. Yesterday afternoon, while lying in bed together, L joked that she was going to develop wrinkles around her mouth for sucking on me so much this weekend, only seconds before her head disappeared under the covers and I was back in her mouth for the umpteenth time.

We discovered a couple of things, I think, this weekend, but mostly we rediscovered each other and why TTWD is so important to us.

So why doesn't TTWD get ramped up in the privacy of hotel rooms, away from the kids, away from life? I think it is because we are in need of that structure at home more than on vacation; TTWD guides us through our day to day life and all of those tedious items, work, bills, kids...etc.  It's our structure during a time when structure is needed for both of us. Away from home, away from "all of this", it isn't so much. As I said, it is there...but on a different level.

But there nonetheless, and, as always, an important part of who we are.

I sing the body Dominant

Once upon a time the Dominant who writes this blog had the body you see above.

It wasn't even that long ago, really. This picture was taken a little over three years ago. L had gone on a camping trip with her friends, and, in what might be a tad bit narcissistic, I snapped this picture and emailed it to her to let her know what she was missing back home. 

This was not the body I had for most of my life. Most of my life I was pretty scrawny, thanks to a high metabolism and being a marathon runner. About six months before this picture was taken, I started hitting the gym on a regular basis, trading in the treadmill for the weights. The results were surprisingly quick, and I found great personal reward in sticking to a strict schedule, pushing myself, and being pleased with the results.

And L, of course, didn't mind it at all.

Flash ahead to this photo, taken just a few minutes ago by L:

I have put on close to 50 pounds in three years, ballooning up to a weight that I thought would never be possible on me. For most of my adult life, my waist size matched my inseam (32/32) and over the course of the last three years I watched that change, and pants that once fit me comfortably left the confines of my closet and made their way to the local thrift store. 32 went to 34, 34 to 36, and 36 to 38, where it has stayed for the last year.

And the belly...good lord, the belly. It was never something I possessed before, but these days it is evident, serving as a punching bag for my youngest boys and a punch line for my oldest.

Suffice to say, going to the gym is something I no longer do, and the running shoes I own rarely make an appearance. I also was not fully living with L back then, and would actually sometimes forget to eat. Nowadays,  I reside with a woman who can cook as well as she can fuck (and she fucks damn good) and I wolf down whatever she places on my plate in the dining room just as eagerly as I wolf down what she presents to me in our bedroom. 

I don't take a lot of pride in the direction my body has gone. I don't like the feeling of putting on a pair of pants that I can no longer squeeze into, of getting easily tired from strenuous activity, and of stepping on the scale and seeing new numbers emerge. Most importantly, I don't like how my weight gain resulted as a lack of self-discipline, and as a Dominant, aren't we supposed to be all about self-discipline? When L signed our original contract, one of the stipulations was that I would dictate her diet and give guidance on exercise; that has been left to the wayside since I do not believe in the motto "Do as I say, not as I do." 

A Dominant does not have to be the perfect physical specimen. True Dominance comes from mental strength, not physical appearance. And L professes to have no qualms about my body whatsoever; that she still finds all of me quite desirable (and it has by no means had any impact on our sex life).

Still..still. It is something I want to improve upon, more so after seeing the above picture L took of me. So, moving ahead, after tonight, I am going to do just that. This blog post was more or less nothing more than a step towards motivation, and that seeing the before and after picture above would be kick in the ass to get me going.

We shall see. It's all up to me, right? Meanwhile....my squirmy little pet who took the picture of me naked apparently liked what she saw enough that she is quite eager for her session, so I will go tend to that. 

And the good news? I will burn some calories in the process.