BDSM, Fantasies, I am a girl, Submissive tendencies

My Punishment

You know what would make me happy? What would help with my tiredness? Just lick my cock a little.

Just lick the tip a bit. Only a bit.

Will I have to take it in my mouth?

No, only lick it.

Well, I know this is not exactly the tip, but it’s close, and if you only lick a little.

Just like that.

Open your mouth. Like that. Open it.

Just take a little bit of it in your mouth. Just a little bit, it won’t do anything.

Just keep your mouth wiiide open for it.

I gag. I gasp for air. His gentle hands are on my neck, on my throat. He plays with his cock and waits while I catch my breath.

Oh, God. You’re really good at this. You’re really good at licking my cock.


You can’t tell anyone about this. This is our secret.

Will you punish me if I do?

Yes. I’ll have to punish you. I’ll punish you like this, he tightens his hand around my throat and starts fucking deeper and harder.

You can’t tell anyone.

You’re a naughty little girl. You’re so naughty. You shouldn’t be doing this. It’s not right. They’ll punish you if you tell. It’s better if you’re just silent. Better just stay still and let me do it.

Gohd, you’re tigh.

You feel so good.

I like you little girls because you’re so tight.

Won’t you let me go?

You’re not going anywhere. I won’t let you. You’re mine now and you can’t do anything about it.

Whimper, scream. Whimper, whimper.

Stop whining! Slap.

I know you like it.

…Did you come?

Oh, I’ll have to punish you now.

Be still.

BDSM, embracing pain, Hurting, Love, Self-Questioning, Undecided

My Pain

It might sound odd coming from the mouth – or keyboard – of a bisexual woman writing a sexy submissive blog, but I don’t see myself as queer or kinky. I see myself as a sexual human being. All the categories there are – that I couldn’t even fit myself into when I first started writing here – they are just an aid to understand myself better. I need those categories to find kindred spirits and to understand the before unexplicable need I have for something there didn’t use to be words or actions for in my mind.

I’m really just so ordinary. I might be able to love all sexes and be sexual with them, but I’m – for example – not polyamorous and I’m married to the man I love. So, that makes me what? The dullest example there ever was. I could write about my past and fill a thousand pages, but that was before I started to realize what I want. That was all done for someone else. Why would I dwell on it anymore – the “sexcapedes” I’ve had? Tell you about the man I rode to an orgasm on top of who fell asleep during? Wo-hoo.

No. This is to most remarkable sexual thing that has ever happened to me. To be in a relationship where there is complete trust. I read Holly’s wonderings about why anyone would ever close their relationship up. Well, for me that’s the whole basis of the trust. We are writing our story, this needs to be between us. I can see how someone would not feel the same way, and I guess my point of view is perceived conservative on this, but it’s my sexual health and my love-life. I do know what I need and what I can’t handle. Mostly, anyway.

When I want a certain feeling or an actiong from Wonderboy, when I desire certain things and fulfill the need, I don’t see it as anything else than what it is. Fulfilling a need with love and devotion. When I speak about sexy women I have seen or have a fantasy about licking one to an orgasm, I don’t think “yeah, because I’m different, because I’m queer”. It’s part of who I am. It’s so normal.

When I ask Wonderboy to push two fingers in my ass without any lube except my own, like today, while he is fucking me, I don’t see it as a submissive act and I don’t think that it’s the pain I’m after. I need a sensation and I go after it. If I want to be suffocated under him or want him to slap me or need to hear the dirty little things he can whisper to my hair while he fucks me from behind, I don’t think I’m doing submissive things or kinky things. I’m making love to my lover. I’m desiring certaing kinds of touches like everybody else in this planet.

Someone wants to have their nipples sucked, I want to be suffocated. It’s just a sensation, it might not even be more intense, but it can be. It all depends on us.

I also don’t see pain necessarily as a degration like so many others. I like to be talked to in a degrading way sometimes, but the pain is just, well, a sensation of more somehow. It’s more intense, so it’s more. This, of course, has to be understood through the knowledge that I don’t really go for pain that much. I’m just shopping a bit. Two fingers in the ass might sound like nothing to many of you reading, but it was a lot to me. Enough to make my eyes fall under a black duvet and my mind to stop focusing on anything. Enough for me to ask for it, when Wonderboy dabbled his fingers so teasingly in the general direction of my ass, enough for me to burst into a great orgasm because. There was something so much more than pure pleasure.

Pain is just one sensation. It is seen as meaningful because it usually brings dire news to our attention, but I is what we perceive it as. I see it as a sliver of pleasure. What about you?