BDSM, Love, Sex stories, Unanticipated Satisfaction, Volatile bodies

Tying People Not Parcels

We ordered the shibari bondage rope I was talking about. Besides Japanese jute rope Esinem also sells a great, professional and very enlightening double DVD called Japanese rope bondage I & II – Tying people not parcels. I can recommend it to anyone who is interested in rope bondage, no matter how far they are in learning it. This is some really amazing stuff.

When we first tried it Wonderboy tried to learn the most basic of basics – the column tie. The jute rope was hard and rough as we didn’t have time to boil and oil it and it hurt my wrists. They are very sensitive as I am all over.  After trying for a while my hands started to get weary, the skin was burning… and Wonderboy took this as a sign that I was bored and angry at him for not learning more quickly. We had a small chat about it and although we ended the tying then, we were left in a positive note.

When we tried again on Sunday I knew to say outright that I wasn’t bored at all, when Wonderboy wasn’t happy with his bondage. I offered my legs as easier to tie and easier to hold out for him to tie around. I also said that he could command me to not look at him, if it was making him uncomfortable. He did and after that everything went super well. He tied my legs, well my ankles exactly, and lifted them easily above my head by the rope. (Well, almost!) Then he came back to tying my wrists, just straight up in front of me, no funny business or anything.

And all the time I kept looking at him. (Except when he said I couldn’t. He did say when I could watch him again.) I took in his body, every inch, every twist of flesh and hair. I watched his expression, determined, wonderfully stoic in its concentration. It took me by surprise that I could fully surrender to that. It was perhaps the first time, ever, I felt comfortable to just take my female gaze and smear it all over him (thanks Perverse Cowgirl!). He was already tying me. I was free.

Free of what exactly? It’s hard to pinpoint. It was many things. I felt free to feel, to just concentrate on feeling the rope, the hands, the roughness, the light touches. For once I didn’t have to do anything. I didn’t even have to portray anything or be the object of his gaze. I felt free to look at Wonderboy. I… Maybe it was because I didn’t feel that he was vulnerable anymore? He was too, he was trying to tie me and he didn’t really know yet how to do it right. But he was tying me. And I was helpless. And it set me free.

So after a while… When he started tying my ankles together, I just… Transcended. I don’t feel it was even subspace anymore. I was enlightened with the feeling of total freedom. Freedom to feel everything down to its last breath. And it was like getting turned on from all over my body, all over my skin. I felt elevated. An altered state, but lucid.

And I was turned on. I started breathing deeper and then shallower. I think I trembled at his touch or the touch of the rope. He groped my breast and kissed me, his cock dangling flaccid in front of my face, because I was lying on the bed and he was on his knees. I noticed it. He wasn’t turned on by the tying. I noticed it, but for once I didn’t care. That doesn’t sound right. I did care, it just didn’t change my feelings, or the altered state. It didn’t take that away the way it usually does, because I really only want to see him turned on.

When he started groping me more, kissing me more, the cock started to get fuller, bounce towards me. He got turned on because I was turned on. A vicious cycle.

For me what came after wasn’t as important as this. Even though what came after was quite speactacular. It was what I’d always wanted, and still I could never have imagined the effect. How safe I felt. How taken care of. How cherished and special. How loved and how sexy and owned.

He said later that it looked beautiful. That the aesthetics were a surpisingly big deal for him. He liked the fact that he got to learn a new skill. He took the learning pretty seriously. That’s what made me trust him with it. That’s what made me feel free, in part because he wasn’t focused on me but he was still giving me what I wanted. For me it wasn’t foreplay, it wasn’t the point to get the bondage good and ready so we could fuck, when I was tied – as we did. For me the sensual exploration was the being tied for a time. Just being still. Not even waiting, just being.

I have a hard time stopping. I have a hard time just being. I always have a book or a blog, a tv show or a random passer-by to talk to. I had to stop there. He made me.

After being on this wild ride with him I was exhausted, I was bewildered, I couldn’t get my breathing in order. And Wonderboy… He was just like he is after any sexual act. Let’s hit the shower. That was great! I don’t know how I could get him to slow down for me. I’ve talked about it time and time again. I’ve said there’s even a name for it – aftercare. That I need him beside me. But… Since he doesn’t feel at all like I feel, especially when tying is not at all the same thing for him as it is for me. It isn’t as important, I think, or of it is, it’s truly different in significance.

He rambled on in the shower and while we were tumbling in the direction of the bathroom. He talked about what he liked about it, and he even had some amazingly accurate and even intellectual things to say about it. Bu the didn’t ask me. I tried to say how I have felt and he just rolled all over me.

I don’t know how I feel about that. I’m not hurt, not really. I’m just… He was so excited and that was good! I’ve waited for this. This is something I’ve wanted for years. But maybe I felt that he didn’t want to give it too much significance.

He did recognice that his dominance over me felt different, when he had tied me himself. There was the act of tying and that was part of his dominance but it was also something else. And he did say that we just got liberated today! Even the sex was different, so much different for me. My body totally surprised me in its reactions, my wanting to look at his face over me. Coming in a moment I wasn’t expecting nor feeling like it just because the dynamic suddenly got so real.

I think that this is something that saves us. It saves us when we are going through all the other shit that we’re going through right now, the stuff that keeps me awake now, that sometimes pulls us apart and sometimes together. The exhaustion, the despair, the sorrow. We have this… this diamond. It lends its light to everything around it. It takes away everything else. It makes me able to trascend when everything is about my body and how it is malfunctioning in its most fundamental job. It takes me to somewhere safe – with Wonderboy. That is some feat.

BDSM, Coming out, embracing pain, Learning to negotiate, Love, Sex stories, Stereotypes, Top-Bottom Girl, Unanticipated Satisfaction, Wonderboy

Butt biting and some convincing regarding (non)sexual activities in (non)sexual situations

We were just lying around watching some cartoons from the computer yesterday, when I suddenly asked Wonderboy to bite my ass. This, like the finger in the butt thing, seems also very mundane – for kinksters that is. I’m almost surprised I’d never asked for it before. But then again I’m not surprised, because it is doubly difficult for a woman to ask for sexual things, when those things aren’t what’s perceived as belonging to our script of a normal sex act. And Wonderboy’s reaction kind of reflected that.

Wonderboy was caressing my back, my waist and my butt as I was lying in front of him facing the computer and he was leaning on the wall behind me. When I felt his hands mold my butt quite sharply, I suddenly knew that I wanted him to bite me.

Bite me, I asked him. He bit my ass through the fabric and I felt a tasty pressure building in my body.

Bite me again, I said and he did, but then he stopped, laughing and we continued to watch the cartoon.

After the cartoon had finished I rolled over cheerfully and asked, if he’d bite my butt a little more. There was this undercurrent of me not orgasming, when we had sex earlier, which made me quite frisky and also made me feel quite entitled to some fun only for me. I usually don’t make the suggestions here, as you know, so it was pretty unusual, and maybe that scared Wonderboy off.

Because his answer was quite frankly pretty shocking. It was a very reluctant I don’t know, and he kept on saying it, laughing and shaking his head, when I asked again. I had to bug him about it to the point, where I felt completely rejected and ashamed of what I wanted, and he felt cornered to do it. I did say to him, that if he felt uncomfortable with it, I didn’t want him to do it.

It could just be nice, just try it a little, I said.

It just seems so odd, Wonderboy said.

What’s odd about it? You lick my pussy – and I lick your butt! You bite my neck and, well, you bite me everywhere else. Why would this be so odd?

He couldn’t really answer the last one. My persistence also had an impact on him. He realized this was something I really wanted, so once again he flipped me over and bit my butt. After some bites I lowered my sweats so he could get his teeth on my skin. And he bit me. He bit me real hard, then he bit it gently and then he teased me with his teeth only and then he used his tongue and lips and then he bit me again real hard… I raised my butt from the mattress and howled out of pleasure. It was so intense. He quickly got the hang of it, and soon, real soon, I felt something wet and warm make it’s way from my pussy to the mattress. I felt the overpowering but weirdly dry pulsating of an orgasm that’s brought about without touching my lady parts.

I laughed and, really, just shoved my face into the mattress. I felt exposed, but happy, too. It was just so weird to have an orgasm just because he bit my butt. I felt super self conscious, especially since he’d given me such a hard time before he admitted to do it in the first place.

I expressed this all to him soon enough. I also said it had felt bad that he’d first declined to do it, and that that had made me feel ashamed of what I wanted. He hugged me and assured me that was not his intention and that he had just been a little thrown, because it felt so weird and unrelated to sex, for him. If I had an euro every time that’s the case with something I enjoy sexually… I’d have some money, that’s for sure.

Since the biting ended so well last night, and since we knew we had a fate to fill tonight, I knew exactly what I wanted today. It was like I was a different person. I laid it all out, everything I needed for it to work for me not that I’m on these damnable pills that make my vagina dry and unreceptive. But hey, just gives me an excuse to practice communicating and recognising what I need!

Today, I said cheerfully, I’m going to want you to lick me. And bite my butt. And I want to lick you, I took a pause. Wow, you have it all worked out, don’t you, he laughed a little flabberghasted. I really never do this, but I kept going, because why stop there? Aaand then I want you to be rough to me, strangle me and push my head, especially. I think that’s it.

We both laughed and then we started, just like I’d said. The biting was wonderful, although not as intoxicating as yesterday. It hurt a lot more.Ans you know what that sadist bastard did after he’d ravaged my ass cheeks with his sharp teeth? He hit me! Yeah, he spanked me like there was no tomorrow… Well, more like spanked me moderately a couple of times. But do you know what that feels like after the skin’s been trough some serious munching? OUCH. And at the same time… Yeah baby.

He licked me to an orgasm and hurt my nipples all the while working my pussy with his tongue. I was pretty dry and the intercourse (sorry for that word) was not amazingly passionate, although I was quite happy with it, but I could see he wasn’t so into it. But we finally added enough lube and he got his rocks off fucking me from behind. After which we both stumbled on the bed breathless and happy, because I’d already come twice and was kind of extatic at that point.

I’m lying on the couch writing this, but when I change my position, even a little bit, I can feel the bitemarks aching. I tried to sneak a peak in the mirror, but there are no real marks I can see. Yet, anyway. But for me there are.

BDSM, Male Lead Relationship stuff, Outside the Bedroom, Self-Questioning, Sex stories, Stereotypes, Submissive tendencies, Unanticipated Satisfaction

How To Ask For Non-Sexual Things In Sexual Settings Or Sexual Things In Casual Settings?

On Saturday I asked to be collared while we were watching a movie. Wonderboy obliged after I explained that I just wanted to be his pet, watch the movie and feel I’m his. This is something that I really want and finally we’ve arrived to an emotional landscape where I can ask for it. We have the collar. We have done domestic things. He has ordered me around without a sexual context as such and has seen, how I react. Has seen how happy it makes me. And we have talked about it. I could just say that it would be nice, if he would put my collar on and we’d just keep doing what we were doing. And we did.

After the movie was over, however, he ordered me to play by myself. I wasn’t exactly jumping out of my pants, but he did order it. I suspected that maybe he felt obliged to end things on a sexual note even though I’d said I didn’t need one. I wasn’t horny. I was tired.

As he left I tried to do his bidding (heh) like a good girl, but I was too tired from going to the gym and getting all cold in the snow. I fell asleep. After a few hours Wonderboy came back to check on me. It’s funny, how I react to his ownership, but I was actually very worried about disappointing him. I didn’t go through with his command, after all. He came to hug me and I came clean.

I was too tired. I fell asleep, I said in a small voice.

It’s okay, he said. You’re still my little baby girl.

I don’t know, if he got it, but I think so, because the next day he put the collar on me for the whole day. I just casually raised the subject of collaring once again and he put the collar on me with a smile on his face and without hesitation. I shivered and surrendered to his hands as always, when he puts it on me. Still, I didn’t await for anything. I had no plans. I just wanted to be his.

As the day went by I began to notice the irritating things about collars. They are clunky and in the way. When I tried to just lie around, it made me aware of it’s presence by choking me. I had to fight the urge to ask Wonderboy to take it off. I wanted to keep wearing it, but he wasn’t giving me anything. He didn’t treat me like his pet, talk to me in a way to insinuate it or grab me by the collar, all of which I’d very much have liked him to do to me. Just wearing the collar didn’t feel like such a thing after a while. It’s the same during sex. When he puts it on, I go limp and surrender completely, but after a while I forget it’s there, if he doesn’t treat me any differently.

He has a obligation too. If I’m collared, he’s the one who collared me. He needs to show me he owns me in small ways. He needs to remind me of what it means. Otherwise it’s just a piece of leather and a metal ring dangling from it.

Being collared and constantly grabbed and kissed through the day did lead to hot, steaming sex. He trained me to give him a blowjob of his life. Now he’s intentionally teaching me, not just asking for something. He lets me know what he likes and how, how he wants me to change things and how quickly. It’s easy to obey him, because I love him and I love to give pleasure to him. When I find a new way to give him pleasure, when I detect some little shift exciting him it stucks with me. I love it.

I don’t know why it’s sometimes hard for me to move on to sex after the blowjob. I’ve been so immersed in his experience, so intent on giving him pleasure, I actually have forgotten about myself. I’m usually really, really wet after sucking his cock, but I’m not prepared to be fucked. I don’t know how to explain it. Probably many of you wouldn’t expect a woman, any woman, to be done with foreplay after just giving head (that would be troubling in a vanilla setting), but it makes me more excited than anything else. I don’t much want anything for myself. I don’t want him to lick me or touch my pussy – for me it’s a cheap way to make the roads slicker, if you know what I mean? And still, I feel like I’m not ready to be penetrated.

Very often it hurts a bit no matter how wet I am. I don’t know if that’s emotional in a way or just plain physical and a result for not playing enough with me. I do sometimes feel… resentment towards Wonderboy for being very quick with hitting me and then expecting me to go down on him for the longest time. And then deciding to fuck me in the moment that’s best for him. I believe he only does it, because I love it too. And I think that if it was up to me we would never move on to penetrative sex, I would just keep on going at his cock forever.

I don’t know. Is that weird? I do want him to fuck me. Sometimes I even beg for it.

Sometimes I feel that I just get something. Not exactly what I need or as much as I need. But somehting. And I believe the problem is with me as much as it is with him. He just doesn’t really seem to view the things I need as sex or sexual so much, so performing them is really just performing to him. And he wants to get on with them and to the real sex, or so I sometimes feel.

We’ve talked about it. He said he needs to readjust his feelings and thoughts on what constitutes sex and he’s done so remarkably well. Especially since I’m still very poor at asking him for anything. But I think it’s me too, who needs readjusting. Just one day I realized I want him to hit my pussy. Real hard. Just one day I realized I actually want to be collared around the house. Just one day I realized I want him to treat me as his pet, sometimes. I want him to collar me and take me around in my leash, maybe feed me of the floor.

Do theses things fit into sex? What is it that I want in a sexual situation, after or before sucking his cock? Can I ask for these things? They seem so elaborate, so… Out of the box marked sex I have in my head.

But when he does collar me. When he keeps me like that. I know exactly what I need.

Learning to negotiate, Male Lead Relationship stuff, Outside the Bedroom, Unanticipated Satisfaction

Short and Sweet

When Wonderboy came home from work today, he asked straight away without even giving me a hug and a kiss first, could I untie his shoelaces.

I ran all the way, he said. They left me pretty far, he added about his commute today.

He had been in the gym squatting. I could understand he’d not want to squat down.

I kneeled in front of him in the dark hallway, undid the shoelaces with a little help from the bathroom light and stood up to hug him. He was moist from sweat and his t-shirt kept gluing to his back.

Thank you, he said.

This I liked.

Then he was frying some eggs on the pan. He poured himself some wine and asked me, if he could drink it all. There was hardly enough for two left and I’d drank a glass more than him yesterday.

No, I want some too.

He didn’t pour but a tiny dribble in his glass, closed the bottle and acted all insulted.

You drank more yesterday, he said and went back to his frying business.

I talked to him some, but then realized that I’d rather he’d drink all the wine. I didn’t much crave for it, and he was right about yesterday. I emptied the bottle in his glass and went to him.

See! I only want you to be happy.

He smiled and hugged me, grabbed me into his nook and kept frying with one hand and pulling me against him with the other.

I don’t know what happened there.

We cuddled naked on the bed, we kissed, we were on top of each other. I could feel there would be no sex.

No sex then? I asked.

I guess not. But you can play, he answered.

I frowned on the idea, not sure I was in to that then and there. Not sure I needed any of that.

No, it wasn’t a permission. You will have to play. When I say so. But not yet.

He did say so later on.

This I was happy about.

BDSM, Hyper-Sexual, Love, Male Lead Relationship stuff, Sex stories, Submissive tendencies, Unanticipated Satisfaction, Wonderboy

A Part of Our Sex

Everything started when Wonderboy said he didn’t want to have sex, but had already been initiating it with me, because he knew I wanted it. He said he felt that I didn’t really give him intimacy, just a prelude to sex. Funny enough, I wasn’t expecting sex, because he was tired and I’m a bit sick, but his interpretations are his own and real to him. He rolled on top of me to hug me and I started asking questions all the while caressing his head, shoulders and back, the most unerotized parts of him.

Would you feel better, if we had our clothes on? If I only kiss you without tongue?

I hugged him in a silly way wiggling my butt and my legs and head, because he was doing it first. Humour seems to always save the day and it did now too. We started laughing. He said, in a sly way, that there is something you could do to make me feel better. This is our code for give me a blowjob. I laughed, caressed his face and asked, really? Now? And he laughed that he was only kidding.

It’s impossible to tell, if you’re serious or not, I said and hugged him tight, pressed my face to his neck and wiggled some more.

That’s why I love you, he answered and meant the fact that I was more than willing and ready to go down on him the minute he brought it up.

And here’s the thing. He knew I wasn’t necessarily looking for reciprocity. Because something has shifted in me. A block that used to stand between me and my desires to submit. Wonderboy commented on it yesterday, when I said that he is such a good master for me and makes me so happy.

It’s easy now that you’re so in tune with yourself. You’re not afraid of the things you want anymore. That makes me able to do stuff to you.

I laughed incredulously, because I recognized that he was right. Something had changed while I wasn’t looking. While we weren’t practicing anything more male lead than normal. While he wasn’t even so much domming me in bed. I had come to terms with it during the pause of breath.

I have, haven’t I? I answered and smiled exhausted and happy.

Can I play now? I asked right after.

I thought to remind you to ask before. I knew you’d want to play again tonight, he said. Go ahead. Play. Now. I’m gonna go brush my teeth and I’ll be expecting you in bed, he said and I was left with the feeling of being rushed and commanded and so, so happy.

I came with a hearty exclamation fantasizing about what he’d done to me earlier, fucked me fast and furious just to get himself off and demanded I fake my ooh aah’s. I was happy to know that Wonderboy would hear it from the other room and know that it was his doing even though he wasn’t even in the same room! Afterwards I cuddled into his naked nook and said I felt my playing was part of the sex we had. It was, he just said and kissed my neck.

Back to today.When Wonderboy was feeling better, loved and cared for even if he didn’t give me sex, I said something I’ve been thinking a lot about lately.

You could use this you know. The fact you don’t want sex. You could tease me about not giving me cock today and maybe not even letting me play.

I won’t give you any cock today, he answered, already ahead of me. And I’m not sure, if I’ll let you play either.

I cried out a little sound of pleasure.

You can’t get turned on. Only bad girls get turned on. And I’d have to punish bad girls.

Another sound of muffled pleasure.

He kissed me passionately and I couldn’t help getting revved up. I answered his teasing tongue with passionate lips and tongue.

It’s not fair to kiss me like that and then be hurt that I get turned on, I said. It doesn’t mean I’m expecting or demanding sex. It’s nice to kiss anyway.

And then I asked him our trademark question what now? and he answered with a question of his own.

What would you like to do?

Play Sims, I said, because he’d made it so clear that he didn’t want any sex.

I’ll play my own game first, he said and I complied.

But as I was getting up he flipped me on top of his body.

It’s so nice that you’re happy like that he said. You’re so wonderful and feel so good. He put me on top of him, straight on top of his cock, and started kissing me and grinding against me.

I’m not going to fuck you today. But maybe I’ll let you play. If you’re reeally nice.

It’s not fair to tease me like this, I said and grinded against his growing cock.

After a while he made his way to my cunt.

Oops, he said. I’m just tipping it in a little. I’m not going to fuck you.

He slid his cock in and out in slow movements and when I tried to answer them, he said,

You are not allowed to move.

Will you not let me come either?

No. I’ll just tease you.

He teased me some, but his cock didn’t stay hard enough. I wasn’t disappointed, because I thought he had given me all I could want from him since he wasn’t interested in having sex. But when I got off of him and asked him, was there something I could do to make him feel good, he asked me to massage his feet while he drinks some wine. I massaged his feet as best I could and he sipped his wine studying me. I felt content. I felt happy. I was making him feel good and that was all I wanted. I said as much to him. He kept saying how much he enjoyed my hands, but he kept saying it in a sexual way. Just the same as when I’m blowing him.

Yeah, just like that. Uh-huh, there. That’s it. That feels so good.

It didn’t really tunr me on, but it made me even more content. It showed me my place.

When I was done, he commanded me to kiss his cock.

Do you want me to only kiss it? I asked after giving his cock some kisses on its lenght.

No, suck it.

I complied.

Looks really beautiful, how your hair falls down, he said and kept brushing it aside to see my face. I kept looking at him through the threads. It was hard to do and keep his cock from hitting my teeth, but I always raised my head again. I wanted to connect with him. He wanted me to watch him.

Look at me, he said near the end whacking his cock forcefully while I was licking his balls, licking his cock from bottom to top, ticling the head and getting back down to circle his balls with my tongue. He came while looking into my eyes intently, mesmerized. I only found out in the shower that my mascara had started to run down my face because of the fierce and deep licking of his ass and balls, and it had turned him on a lot. Making me dirty and vulnerable. Maybe even the fact that I didn’t know about it.

After he’d come he said, You were so good to me today that you get to play. You licked me so good.

Thank you, sir, I said.

You can play, he said again.

Now? I asked. With my hands?

No, take all the toys in, he answered and took the glass of wine in his hands again, sipping wine, lying down, naked.

I pushed the little vibrator/dildo in my cunt like I always do when I play with my toys and started using the big ball end vibrator on my clit. I was intensely aware of his eyes on me. I looked at his beauticul cock, now smaller and relaxed. I looked at his hairy chest, so muscular and broad. I looked at his lush lips brushing on the glass. I though about the things he had done to me. How he’d said I couldn’t play. How he’d teased me. I thought about him watching me, studying me. I was afraid he’d tell me I couldn’t come right before I was coming. I was worried it was too much for me, that his eyes were actually criticising me, that he was maybe getting bored.

I shut me eyes and focused on his presence. He grapped my left nipple and tortured it a bit. I started getting close. I thought about him teasing me. I though that he’d masturbate on top of me and just put the cock in between strokes, so I wouldn’t get off, but he would. I thought he’d masturbate until he almost came and only then would he give me his cock.

I was so slippery I could barely feel the vibrator. I stucked it against my pubic bone so hard I could almost feel my skull rattle. I stuck the little dildo in me and kept it there. It went so far and my cunt was so slippery that it was almost impossible to find it and move it.

And then I came with a BANG. I screamed, I trashed and the dildo shot half a meter from my cunt past my guarding fingers. I came so hard I couldn’t stop it.

I started crying a bit and went to hug him. He knew what to do and commended me, how good I’d been, how well I’d behaved. He kissed me and hugged me and held me.

It felt like it was part of our sex, I said.

It was, he answered and held me tight.

BDSM, Coming out, Craving for more, Learning to negotiate, Submissive tendencies, Unanticipated Satisfaction, Volatile bodies

About Equality And The Hotness Of Letting It Go

When we were down with the first round of domestic servitude, or whatever you want to call it, Wonderboy couldn’t stop smiling. He gets like that a lot and it’s always something forbidden, sexy or kinky. So, of course I ask and beg him to tell me. What are you thinking?

And he says, I’m just thinking, how I will test your boundaries. What I’ll put you through.

We only just ever did this for the first time, and he’s already conniving testing my boundaries! I felt week from the knees, a little fidgety but also anxious to know, to get there. What could he have in mind?

When we were talking about, how we can separate play from life, turned out we can’t, because. Well… (I’m getting turned on just thinking about this conversation!)

I said, You can just ask me, if I want to play. Some day might be I that I don’t.

And, if you don’t, he added in a suggesting way and neither of us could hold our evil grins for a long time.

You’ll make me, I sighed from happiness.

Can’t I have a safe place? No, I can’t. Because I want to surrender. I need to surrender to him. He is a gentle and loving man. If he would see me in real distress, anxious, he’d deal with it. He’d help me. He wouldn’t and probably couldn’t start demanding services from me. But it’s not my decision. I trust him to make the right one.

In the comments of my other post, I argued that this is all about equality in the heart of things. What Feministsub wrote about us seeing equality in domestic partnership’s as a virtue and as the only way, didn’t sink in until now. If they’re there yet. It’s not in fact the only way, but the only way we can morally accept.

Surrendering to Wonderboy is wonderful, because I get to surrender the control. People have pointed out that it’s the feeling loved, cared for that’s important, not how you do it. Equality is only good or right, if it what makes you happy. But we’ve been raised in a time, where women are struggling to get away from home, be free from their husband’s financial domination. It’s probably not the best of times to start threading the lines of such a power play. It most certainly is not the easiest time for it.

But what is it that makes this kinky? What is it that makes this transgressive? Why it’s the letting go of some of the equality of course. It wouldn’t be a turn on and it wouldn’t be a need, if it was equal as usual. The thing that is powerful is giving my power for him to use. I just have to deal with it in thought just as well as in actions…

You see, when Wonderboy came home today, I said to him that I didn’t want to have sex. But it’d be okay, if he wanted to dominate me.

So, theoritcally speaking, he said, would you be willing to lick me, even if you didn’t want sex? I could lick you, he assured.

I don’t want anything for myself. That’s what I meant.

I’m just asking to make these things clear, he added, because it’s such a rare thing.

Well, because we’re talking theoretically here, I answered, I’d have to say that this might be a sort of experiment. That the other one comes and the other one doesn’t.

Just theoretically speaking.


And so again the happy couple spent eons and eons just smiling stupidly at each other and then kissing and hugging.

It’s all equal, if the other one comes and the other one doesn’t! See… It’s like this… I mean, you know…

I guess it’s not. And that’s why it’s hot.

BDSM, Coming out, Learning to negotiate, Love, Outside the Bedroom, Unanticipated Satisfaction, What Women Really Want, Wonderboy

Owned (The Slave Talk II)

Once I would’ve thought this web page called Taken in Hand was nothing more than some deluded wanker’s fantasy. I have changed thoroughly in the few days after The Slave Talk, and although I realize this has been brewing below the surface a long while, the change is still like a giant hand that dropped me suddenly through the rabbit hole. Taken in Hand has this to say about male lead relationships, and unlike before, I relate to it with my whole heart and soul.

Some women want and need to be brought into subjection. They crave the man’s control and respond positively to active control, but without active control on his part submission is impossible. These women cannot fake submission; it must be real. It cannot be a pretence, a role-playing game or a lifeless cardboard cut-out imitation. It must be from the heart and soul, no hint of artificiality, acting or mendacity. But when a man brings such a woman into subjection and thereby releases her delitescent submissiveness, the power and reality and unforced naturalness of her submission can be awe-inspiring.

I ask Wonderboy, does he like it, when I do what he commands.

Yes, he answers.

Then comes the harder question, I grimace and face down before I can utter it. Do you also like it outside the bedroom?

Yes, he answers. My cunt pulses, my heart heaves with a sudden owerwhelming feeling.

It is not him, who is making me do something. I ask him to make me do something. Everything. He’s taken to it a lot better now that I don’t really have any objections anymore. I don’t feel abused, because I now realize this is exactly what I want.

It cannot be pretended, it has to be real. Dear physics where I’ve come to. I used to be such a progressive feminist. I’m kidding, I still am. And now I have to face that in an egalitarian relationship I can give away some of my power, if I want to. I can surrender and it doesn’t make me a bad woman. It doesn’t make me a traitor to the subject of women’s libearation. I am not advocating anything – well, except for one thing.

Women have a right to whatever they desire. That’s feminism. That’s equality. That makes happy both women and men.

I know I’m not the only one, and it helps some that there’s someone pretty close who is also tackling the same need, and isn’t all too thrilled about what it seems to represent. Feministsub, who provided me with the link to Taken in Hand, has also written about a similar revelation. Go check it out too. There are as many experiences as there are women who want this or something to the effect. It used to be so hard to know what I want. I know now. This is like a door’s been opened in me. Happiness flows through my whole body warming my muscles and cradling my heart, when I think about this.

It’s not enough for me to be dominated in bed. I want to be held in hand. What a beautiful way to say it. I need to feel taken care of in a most intense kind of way. I want to surrender control, slowly and step by step, to my husband. I don’t yet know what that entails. I’m not ready for a lot of it, and some of it might never be willing to explore. (Him fucking other women would probably be a thing like that.)

But even financial autonomy seems a possible token for surrender now. Yes, this freaks me out too, so you don’t have to jump on my throat for saying it out loud. I made a small test while we had guests yesterday. I left my wallet at home. I never do that. Correction, I’ve never done that. I’m determinedly equal about paying, even so that I’ve ended up treating a lot more than my partner. I felt so loved that I probably never have. I don’t actually know, if Wonderboy realized why I did it, but I have a hunch that maybe he did. Because he owns me.

Once I got the words out of my mouth, he stepped to the plate without hesitation. This is what happened after The Slave Talk.

I did the dishes naked in high heels. You know what I felt? I felt content, exhilarated, pleased, being cared for, being loved… and I felt dominated. I was in a sub state of mind (cue old jazz here) and it felt weirdly right. He drank wine and played guitar in the other room and I rushed the dishes, but I was paying more attention to detail and the cleanliness of the kitchen than usual. I needed everything to be perfect, because… I was scared of him? No, not quite. I wanted to please him so bad.

When I was ready, I stayed in the doorway of the music room and said I was ready. He commanded me to kneel in front of him on the carpet and wait once he’s finished. He’d go to check on my work, when he was good and ready. Gowd, I ate that up and stumbled in front of him in those heels I can barely walk in, probably with eyes like saucers. He’s were too. He wasn’t indiffirent, his breath was tense, but he was making me wait.

Finally he went to the kitchen and stepped on water that had escaped from the sink. I honestly breathed in loudly, when I saw it. His irritation was palpable when he commanded me back in the kitchen, and he didn’t stand aside while I wiped the floor naked, but stood there watching me grovel at his feet. I did it as well as I could. He opened his fly and took out his cock. It was already hard as rock, which made my heart jump, and he put it straight to my throat only to move my head aggressively against it from the base of my skull.

He then after a while of choking on his cock commanded me to the bedroom. I don’t remember the spesifics, but I got a permision to go to the bathroom. Maybe this was making me nervious, but I most certainly needed to pee before this hard, commanding presence did whatever he meant to do to me.

Okay, so I was on the bed, he was on the bed. There was this huge electric current between us I’d never felt before. He handled me with assertive hands, but I don’t actually remember how we fucked. In the end he was thrusting in me from behind and he kept talking me through it. It was… intense. He was so sure of himself that he made me completely submit without the slightest hesitation.

Moan like a porn actress, he commanded me, and I did. I looked back at him, threw my hair and moaned, sighed and did all the nasty implausible things the women in porn do to fake enthusiasm and pleasure. And I could feel him getting harder and harder, his voice stumbling over words with big gulps of air and saliva.

Later he tells me that he got off on it, because it sounded so fake. His twisted desire was to make me fake pleasure for him, because, really, what could be more humiliating and degrading? What could prove his ownership over me more piercingly? He did a lot of things to me, all of which felt new although most of them were familiar. He came violently, but like recently I didn’t, so he decided to lick me teasing me and denying my right to come. I did, though, but he gave me a permission well before. Today he didn’t.

The days after that have been full of negotiating, revealing new things and fucking – but also talking about emotions. This is not something you can do lightly, or when you’re tired. And that became the next problem.

After we’d had the scene and the sex and everything was eerily extatic, we talked about it. Him owning me.

I’d never thought I’d say this, but… Wonderboy’s going to buy me a collar. A nice, necklace like black collar with maybe a small cross on it. He will put it on me and then it will be his decision. I’ll be owned in no uncertain terms.

I can’t wait.

I’m so out of the closet, I can’t talk to any of my friends or family anymore of what’s happening with me. Why am I so happy, content and extatic? Because I’m owned, goddammit! I’m owned.

This I wrote on Feministsub’s blog,

This is a good thing! I feel such freedom and peace of mind. Everything I’ve had such a hard time voicing, everything I’ve been so torn about, all the things that just didn’t make sense, all the needs and desires I couldn’t get met whatever I suggested or whatever Wonderboy did. They are all here in me being owned by him.

It makes my heart sing.