Be careful what you wish for...

So yeah, last night, I got cranky...
And I paid for it in spades.

See, what happened is this: S and I are going on a camping trip with friends for the next few days and will be staying in their camper so there will be no way for us to play. And the night before last, S was feeling ill so we didn't play either. (Have I mentioned I have a ridiculously high sex drive for a girl? Sigh). So anyway, last night when we went to bed, S was thinking about other things and after being really horny all day, I got super frustrated that he wasn't going to play with me.

Being a girl, and a girl near her period, I got emotional and took it personally of course: I decided it was clearly because he finds me unattractive and undesirable. I was very put out and got under the sheets and curled up on the far edge of the bed. S knew immediately that something was wrong, and he badgered me until I finally complained: "Well we didn't play last night and we can't play the next two nights, and you don't want to play with me tonight. It's because I'm ugly." This exasperated him, but I continued to whine. He said we could play now but I said no, it was too late now, it was time to sleep.

I thought the discussion was over and was starting to fall asleep, until a few minutes later when S suddenly startled me by bouncing out of bed. I turned around to see what was going on, and heard him pulling the toy box out from under the bed. I sleepily asked him what in the world he was doing, but received no answer. "Don't be silly," I told him with a yawn. "Come back to bed!" Again, no response. "Please come back to bed!" The silence was getting to me.

"Turn on the light!" His voice was sharp and startled me. "No, please, just come back to bed. It's late!" I responded.

"I said: Turn. On. The. Light!" his voice was like ice in the darkness.

I froze. It's extremely rare for S to speak to me in that tone. Hearing it in the dark when I was half asleep made my heart pound and adrenaline start to rush through me. Tentatively, I began to extend my hand toward the light. But apparently not fast enough.

"NOW!" he snapped, making me jump. My hand shot out and I turned on the lamp, blinking in the sudden brightness.

Before I could adjust to the change of illumination, S was on the bed beside me. "Sit up!" the ice in his voice made a shiver run down my spine and I realized that I must have really pissed him off. I sat up, immediately and looked at what he had placed on the bed: I saw a collar, the leash and the bit gag. Uh oh, I thought to myself, I'm in trouble now.

S picked up the collar and placed it around my throat, pushing my head down roughly so he could fasten it in the back. My heart was pounding hard and I couldn't find my voice. So I just sat there and let him do it. The bit gag was next. When he put it up to my face, I hesitated.

"Open!!!" again, the sharpness of his command scared me and I immediately dropped my jaw open to comply. He roughly inserted the rubber bit in my mouth and then pushed my head down again to fasten it behind my neck. He then completed the process by snapping the leash onto my collar and used it to yank my head upwards, until I was only inches from his face. I stared at him in wide eyed silence, trying not to drool around the bit gag. "Are you going to keep crying about our sex life now?" he demanded. I dropped my eyes and mutely shook my head no. My heart was still pounding a mile a minute. What did he intend to do with me? I didn't have long to ponder that question, because the next thing I knew, S had placed the blindfold over my eyes, now leaving me blind and gagged. I chewed fretfully on the rubber bit, already trembling a bit by the feeling of sudden vulnerability being unable to see always brings.

In a flash, S was out of bed and yanking on the leash, forcing me to follow him. I did so, awkardly, feeling my way. As soon as my feet touched the ground, he pointed to the floor: "Down!" he commanded. This brought an inarticulate groan from my lips: crawling with bare knees across a wooden floor is always painful, not to mention humiliating. S punctuated his command with a downward jerk of the leash so I complied quickly: lowering myself to all fours, and feeling like a dog.

"Come!" S pulled hard on the leash, and I was forced to obey, moving gingerly over the unforgiving wooden floor. My slowness didn't please him, and I almost immediately felt the whip on my bare ass. "Faster!" he commanded. I struggled to obey, feeling my way with my hands as I went to be sure I didn't bump into anything. With my heart pounding and the rush of adrenaline going through me, I was already disoriented.

S brought me to a point about halfway through the bedroom and then told me to stop. He left the room for a a minute and I heard him rummaging through the freezer. Oh God, I thought to myself. I knew what was coming. Sure enough, as soon as he returned, I heard S move behind me and then almost immediately that incredible freezing burning sensation as he pushed the ice cube directly into my clit. I uttered a muffled groan, and arched my back, trying to move away from the pain. But S only pushed it in harder until it was firmly lodged there.

"Now", he stood up again. "This is going to give you a taste of what awaits you on Sunday when we get home. I am going to lead you from room to room on all fours and if I expect you to keep that ice in there. If I hear it hit the floor, then depending on which room you are in when it does, you can expect a different consequence."

WHAT? Christ, was he serious? I actually had to try to move forward and keep this hateful piece of ice inside me, while it became increasingly slippery and smaller with each passing second? Arrrrrrrrgh!!! The sensation of the whip against my ass once again convinced me that S really was serious and I awkwardly moved forward, trying desperately to keep my legs as close together as I possibly could and hold the burning ice inside my clit.

I slowly and painfully crawled through the bedroom, the hallway and into the living room like this, cringing each time I thought I might lose the ice. "I'm listening for that ice!" S kept reminding me. By the time I reached the living room, my knees were killing me, and I was shaking from trying to keep the painful sliver of ice in place. S brought me to a halt and checked, by pressing his fingers inside me to verify the ice was still there. "Good," he commented, as he pressed it more firmly against my clit, bringing a fresh wave of pain. He rubbed the remaining sliver up and down my clit and then inserted his now freezing fingers inside me, making me shudder and gasp. I could feel drool starting to run down my chin from the bit gag.

After teasing me with his fingers for a while, S. inserted a vibrating toy and turned it on high, and then left the room with a sharp: "Stay!" Like I was going anywhere. I started to tremble in earnest and tried to concentrate on not swaying as I tried to resist the thrumming inside me. But to no avail: Within seconds I had a first orgasm. I groaned and chewed fretfully at the bit, as my now overly sensitive areas continued to be stimulated by the relentless vibrator.

I heard S come back into the room and he immediately began to buckle the ankle and wrist cuffs on me, pausing from time to time to push the vibrator in even deeper. I panted and shook, drooling in earnest now. I sat back on my haunches to ease the pain on my hands and shoulders a bit. S.  immediately fastened each wrist to the corresponding ankle so I was powerless to move in any direction. He then sat in front of me and removed the bit gag. "How are you doing, slave?" he taunted me. I just panted in response, unable to speak. S then pushed my head downward. I resisted a bit, feeling the pull of my wrist shackles against my ankle cuffs as I was forced forward. "Down" he commanded, and then "Open!"

I now realized what was happening and complied, almost immediately feeling his cock enter my mouth. In this position, I had no way whatsoever to control any movement: I was now balanced precariously on my knees, with my ankles in the air behind me, my wrists helplessly connected to them. S grabbed me by the hair and forced my mouth up and down over his cock with increasing speed. I had no way to resist or control any of the movement, and concentrated on trying not to gag as he repeatedly forced his cock all the way to the back of my throat. My knees were screaming in protest and my wrists and ankles were already aching. I inhaled gasping breaths through my nose whenever I could. The vibrator continued to thrum on high deep inside me and the back and forth movements made it rub me in places it hadn't before. As if I didn't already have enough to cope with, I came again.

Finally, S seemed satisfied and he removed his cock from my mouth and let me collapse with my head against the floor, my wrists and ankles still bound together and my ass held forcibly high in the air. I heard him move behind me as I tried to regain my breath and then he removed the vibrator that had been tormenting me this entire time. I sighed in relief as the thrumming finally stopped, but only had a few seconds relief before S. penetrated me from behind. I was already swollen and dripping back there from the extended time with the vibrator and the sensation of him pushing in and out of me was enough to make me gasp.

He began to pound against me, pushing so my ankles were lifted up off the floor with each thrust, grinding my already painful knees against the rug with each thrust. My face and shoulders were also repeatedly ground into the carpet with each new push from behind. The combination of pain and pleasure were so intense I couldn't help crying out with each thrust.

By the time S had finally cum, my knees, ankles, wrists, shoulders, neck and the right side of my face were all in agony. I was shaking like a leaf and sobbing quietly. I felt S release the metal connecting my wrists to my ankles and brought my numb hands forward, lifting my head painfully off the floor. Was it over? I wondered. Or was he still angry at me. I quickly got a response when S's taunting voice reached my ears: "I know you played with your wand earlier. I think we should play with it again now, don't you?" I groaned in horror. How was I possibly going to stand the wand? I can't control myself even under the best of circumstances when that powerful motor is inside me and against my clit.

S left the room and I moaned, knowing he planned to carry out the threat. Sure enough, within moments, S had returned and plugged in the wand and I felt him force my trembling legs apart and insert it. He immediately turned it on low. I gasped and bucked forward, almost immediately overwhelmed by the powerful sensation against my super sensitive areas. "What's the matter, slave?" he taunted. "Aren't you glad you played with your wand earlier today?" I vehemently shook my head no. (I had been very horny earlier and S had given me permission to play). "Are you going to play again when I'm not there to watch you?" I shook my head harder in denial, gasping and moaning as the relentless buzz continued.

"Move" S commanded. Move? With the wand inside me? My head spun. What did he mean? A slap on my ass urged me forward and I gingerly obeyed, crawling slowly forward. S. followed me with the wand, ensuring that it was pushed directly against me with each step. As I moved, the wand reached new places, and I came again. I felt as if I were about to collapse. I shook helplessly. S urged me forward until I had moved quite a way across the living room and then told me to halt. He then turned the wand on high. At this point, I thought I was going to lose it completely. I alternated trying to balance on each painful knee, arching my back and moving my hips in desperate but futile attempts to get away from the wand. I felt as if I couldn't stand another second of the intense vibration against my screaming parts. Finally, S took pity on me and turned it off. I collapsed against the carpet, shaking hard. Oh thank God, thank God, thank God, was all I could think.

But I heard and felt the click of metal securing my ankle cuffs together and knew that the night wasn't over yet. I hung my head and trembled, trying to steel myself for whatever was coming next. S pulled on the leash that was still attached to my collar. "Come slave," he commanded me. I groaned and tried to obey, the mere two inches room between my shackled ankles making every movement difficult. S forced me to pivot on my already desperately painful knees, and then pulled sharply on the leash, forcing me forward. I could only move slowly, hampered by my shackles, and crawled painfully after him, guided only by the relentless pressure of the leash pulling me forward and his occasional commands: "Turn, left, forward, etc."

By the time we reached the bedroom once more, I thought I would never be able to move again. Every time my knees came down against the hard wooden floor, I gasped in agony, my wrists and ankles hurt badly, my neck ached, and I was shaking uncontrollably. S had me stop and sit up so I was kneeling before him. The then removed the blindfold.

"Stand up!" he commanded. My weary brain, deep in subspace, attempted to make sense of this order. Stand up? But my ankles were still shackled beneath me. How could I? I frowned, unsure what to do. "Stand up!" S ordered again. "Don't you want to get in the bed?" I was much too deep in subspace to even begin to be able to speak, so I just gazed upward at him in mute confusion. It took a few seconds before the look on my face registered and then I heard him say "Oh, that's right!" With relief, I felt S move behind me and detach the piece that connected my ankles. I was then able to obey and stand up, shaking and swaying.

S led me to the bed and helped me in. I lay there, shaking convulsively and completely out of it for a long time while he held me. I'm not sure how long it was until I was finally able to open my eyes and speak again, but it seemed like an eternity. Just stopping shaking took a monumental effort of will: Each time I thought it was done, a new series of shudders would overtake me.

I finally was able to turn in his arms and face him and respond to questions a little. S. informed me that I would be sleeping with the ankle and wrist cuffs on, not connected to anything, but just to remind me of my place. He also told me that he would keep the collar and leash on with the loop around his wrist and that if I needed to go to the bathroom, I would need to wake him up and ask and he would walk me there on all fours. I winced and nodded, accepting my fate, my will too broken to resist at this point. "And if you disobey me and try to slip off the leash without waking me up, you'll spend the entire day on your knees," he warned. "I'll obey!" I hastened to assure him.

S. told me to turn off the light and we settled down for the night. He left the connectors on the wrist and ankle cuffs so they clinked every time I moved in the bed. And whenever S changed positions, the tugging of the leash against my collar woke me up. It was a long night... I slept deeply at first, completely spent. But then woke up partway through the night when I tried to turn over and the clanking of my cuffs plus the tug of the leash woke me up. My bladder was starting to twinge, but I refused to acknowledge it. The thought of placing one of my desperately painful knees against the unforgiving wood floor for even one more second was horrifying.

I dozed fitfully after that, waking up every time I tried to shift position. After a while, a few hours later, S awoke and asked if I had to go to the bathroom. I shook my head no, even though I did, because I simply didn't think I could deal with the floor again. To my distress, he pronounced that he had to go, and I was forced to listen as he walked to the bathroom and urinated. I groaned and turned over, trying hard to ignore my own need.

Finally, an hour or so later, I couldn't put it off any longer, I woke up S and asked if I might be allowed to go on hands and feet instead of hands and knees. He thought about it for a minute and then said that it sounded painful to him but if I could manage it he would allow it. I almost laughed: At that moment nothing could have sounded more painful than putting my abused knees against the floor for so much as another instant. So I clumsily made my way out of bed and followed S to the bathroom, awkwardly walking on crouched legs with most of the pressure from my body on my hands. It seemed interminable but I finally made it there, and S allowed me to go in on my own. God, the relief of being able to pee at last!!!!

The rest of the night passed much the same way: I tossed and turned, waking myself up each time I shifted positions, acutely aware of the cuffs and collar shackling me at five points. I had worried about the next couple of nights in the camper, but now that thought seemed like bliss in comparison to this!!!

So yeah, the moral of this story is definitely: Be careful for you wish for because you may get it...and then some!!! I don't think I'll be whining again any time soon, PMS or no PMS!!!

Fire & Ice

Yesterday, S. asked me how I felt about playing with hot wax. I hadn't given it a lot of thought up until then. I have seen pictures of it done, but never experienced it. It didn't sound terribly painful, I just found the idea of playing with fire (literally) a little scary and, being a girl, I was worried about making a mess. I had visions of wax droplets all over the bed and floor. I figured I'd NEVER get the wax out of the sheets! lol.

So we discussed it and my reservations and came up with a plan of action: I have a big plastic dropcloth that I sometimes use for protecting my furniture or rugs while painting or doing certain types of cleaning. We decided that if we put that over the entire bed, the wax droplets would fall harmlessly on it and we wouldn't have to worry about a mess at all. I wasn't really worried about the pain. In fact, I figured the whole scenario would be pretty ho hum, since I've accidentally spilled wax on myself before and it was no big deal.

So, when evening came, S and I lit candles and put them on the top of the bookshelf, and then spread the big plastic sheet over the bed. I stood back and looked at it and immediately burst out laughing. It looked like something out of a movie where you see the evil murderer put down plastic sheets to wrap the body in after murdering the helpless girl. I told S it looked kind of creepy! We giggled about it together. Then I left the room and came back with a big watering can full of water. S looked at me and laughed and asked what in the world I was doing? I pointed out that, if we were going to be playing with fire, having a ready source of water nearby seemed prudent. He seemed to find this overabundance of caution extremely funny. But I told him that if he was the one who was going to be tied hand and foot and then blindfolded around fire, he might want some water nearby too, so he decided to humor me.

Then S used the leather cuffs to secure my hands behind my back, and attached a posture collar to my neck with the D ring facing behind me. He used bondage rope to tie my wrists to the D ring and pull them tight so they were pulled halfway up my back and any struggling against the shackles brought the collar tight against my throat. The end result was that I was forced to sit up very straight and push my chest out in order to be able to breathe comfortably.

Then, S pulled out the blindfold and looked me in the eye right before pulling it over my head and told me: "I'll be right back. I have to go to the bathroom." GAH! I hate that! Next thing I knew, I was alone, and blindfolded, sitting on the edge of the bed with my head forcibly held high by the collar and my arms slowly beginning to ache in their position secured halfway up my back. Plus my backside was starting to ache from the whipping I got the other night. Any prolonged pressure on it just hurts!

So I struggled off the bed to my feet and stood there by the bed, feeling extremely vulnerable. I couldn't see anything and could only judge my position by the feel of the bed behind me. And with the way I was shackled, I couldn't move at all except to walk, which was pointless since I was blind. I stood there for several minutes, trying not to sway, and cursing S for leaving me there. I think he enjoys getting me into predicaments and then leaving me to stew! Grrr...

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, S came back and told me to get on the plastic sheet covered bed. I struggled to obey. But since I couldn't bend my back at all and my hands were useless and I couldn't see what I was doing, it was more difficult than anticipated. S. had to help me into position. I wound up on my knees, on what I assume was the center of the bed, sitting back on my heels.

I knelt there for a few moments and then I suddenly felt the presence of heat near my face, and knew that S must have picked up one of the candles and brought it near. I inched my head back as far as I could, feeling nervous about the proximity of the flame to my hair, especially since I couldn't see it at all or move to protect myself in any way. Unfortunately, this move also caused me to stick my chest out even more. Next thing I knew, I felt a sudden intense heat on my right breast as the first droplets of wax dripped onto it. I gasped: It didn't hurt much. Just more of a startling sensation of heat: Uncomfortably hot at first and just a little painful but almost immediately cooling. Then, followed by the odd sensation of the wax hardening against my nipple as it cooled.

Before I could get used to the odd sensation, I felt more hot wax dripping down my left breast and from there onto my stomach. I involuntarily yanked against the cuffs in a move to protect myself, but the only effect this had was to cut off my own air supply for a few moments as the rope pulled the collar sharply against my throat. S. seemed to be enjoying himself: "How does that feel?" he inquired, with a smile in his voice. "H-h-hot" I replied after a few seconds. I could tell from my stammering that the sensations of heat and helplessness were getting to me a lot more than I had expected them to. S. checked to make sure that I wasn't getting burnt too much and I shook my head no in response. And so he continued.

For a while, S alternated between pouring wax down my front and then playing with my nipples. The odd sensations of heat, hardening wax, and having my nipples teased were beginning to make me feel overwhelmed. Then S left the room briefly and returned. When he did, He inserted a vibrator that has a piece that sits against the clit and then, before I knew what was going on, he slipped a piece of ice under it, right against my clit.

ARRRRGH! S. has done this before and for some reason the ice seems to sit right in there while it melts and makes me completely insane. The first instant it touched my clit, I rose up off my heels and tried to catapult myself away from the ice. Of course, I was completely unsuccessful and S laughed as I squirmed, trying desperately to dislodge the cube that was now making me feel as if my entire clit was on fire: The freezing sensation being very close to burning. I could feel the melted water from the ice dripping down the inside of both of my thighs and pooling on the plastic sheet around my knees.

Then S. brought out the whip. At this point, I started to shake, which is the immediate precursor to my entering subspace. There was too much going on for my body to deal with: The heat and hardened wax sensation on my breasts and stomach, the way my hands were shackled behind me and attached to the collar, forcing me to keep my head up and my posture straight, the intense burning/freezing sensation against my clit, the buzzing of the vibrator deep inside me, and now S whispered in my ear that since he hadn't been able to whip me very hard the other night on my breasts, he was going to take advantage of this position to do so now.

All I could do was shake my head back and forth in a silent plea, and try not to tremble too convulsively. But I almost immediately felt the whip against my right breast and jumped violently. I hadn't heard S. wind up. Fortunately for me, S wasn't too rough and the hardened wax helped protect me somewhat, but I still got several good lashes against each breast before he was done. I was shaking hard by this point and not completely aware of what was going on.

Then S. removed the collar, and I started to relax just a little. Usually, once he starts to remove the cuffs and shackles I know it's over and I can let go. But this time, as soon as He had removed the collar, I felt him attaching the cuffs to my ankles and I knew I would have to endure more before the night was done. S. quickly tied my ankle cuffs together and then secured my wrists to the bedframe in front of me with a length of bondage rope, with about a foot or so play between the cuff and the headboard. The result was that I was on all fours, with my arms pulled forward and  quite a bit to each side, and my ankles locked together so I could move neither forward nor backward. I groaned as my shoulders struggled to hold me up with my arms forcibly held so far apart. I wound up leaning over and putting my head down on the bed and resting on my elbows instead of my hands to give my shoulders a break. This caused my butt to stick up in the air, but I couldn't maintain the other position for long.

Then, with no warning, S dripped hot wax over my ass. Due to my position, my butt crack was open and the wax dripped all the way down it, causing me to leap back to my position on all fours, despite my protesting shoulders. S laughed, clearly delighted at having gotten me in such a tender place. I moaned as he continued to pour hot wax over my buttocks and back, trying to control my shaking. Fortunately, by now the ice had mostly melted so I didn't have to contend with that sensation as well.

Once S was satisfied with whatever wax design he was creating, I felt him stand up on the bed and move in front of me to the space where my arms were being held apart by the cuffs. He knelt down in that space and I then felt him yank my head up by the hair and he commanded: "Open!" I obediently opened my mouth and immediately felt his cock in my mouth. It was hard and warm and he pulled my ponytail back and forth, forcing me to suck up and down his cock. Then I felt his other hand go to my right nipple and start to tease me. I gasped and stopped what I was doing. "Keep sucking!" he commanded and yanked my ponytail so I tried to comply, doing my best to focus on what my mouth and head were doing instead of the increasingly distracting sensation of his fingers tweaking my nipple.

This continued for a while, and then S moved behind me on the bed. I could feel him standing behind me on the mattress, and suspected I knew what was coming. Sure enough, I heard him stroking himself for just a few seconds and then a sudden new sensation of heat all over my back and ass as he came explosively all over me. I've said this before, but S. cums more than any man I've ever known. It's seriously like he's got five or six guys back there with him, all cumming at the same time. So I was covered in the stuff before he was done.

Once S had spent his load, he got down off the bed and then spent a few minutes taunting me: Telling me what a mess I was and what a dirty girl I am. I was too exhausted and far into subspace to respond. I just hung my head and tried not to collapse while he removed the restraints.With my body covered in wax, sweat and cum, I certainly felt dirty!!!

Then S guided me to the shower: Once a scene is over, any sensation is overwhelming for me, so even though the blindfold had been removed, I could only open my eyes for a few seconds at a time. So S had to guide me there and help me get in. I stood with my head against the shower wall and S washed me from head to toe, cleaning the cum and wax off me. Once he was done washing both of us, he dried me and led me back to the bed where he snuggled me for a long time before I could really talk again.

I have to say that the evening really surprised me. I hadn't expected wax play to be terribly interesting, but the combined sensations of the scene really got to me much quicker than I would have ever anticipated. S seems to have really enjoyed covering me with wax as well, so I suspect we will be doing it again.

A New Game

If you've spent any time reading my blog, you already know that S. is creative. Very, very creative. Especially, when it comes to finding ways to make me insane with pleasure and pain.

The other day, he decided to play a new game with me. He told me I wasn't allowed to come into the living room for a while, so I went to the bedroom and stayed there, while he sat on the couch busily writing something. After a while, he came into the bedroom and presented me with four pieces of paper, each with a number from 1 to 4 on it. He told me to choose one.

I was familiar with this general idea from past games he has played with me and knew that when I selected a number, the other side of the paper would have something written on it that would then be enacted on me. And the worst part, the most humiliating and infuriating part is that, no matter how much I whined or complained about it, he would take great delight in reminding me that I "chose" the card and that everything that was happening to me as a consequence was my own fault. Grrr...

I stared at those numbers for quite a while: 1, 2, 3, 4... What evil plans were written on the back of each piece of paper? What would I have to endure? Was one less awful than the others? How should I pick? I finally, randomly selected number 2. S smirked at me: "Are you sure?" he asked? Which immediately made me want to change my selection. But I figured he would say that no matter what I chose, so I nodded my confirmation. Yes, I was sure.

S. grinned as he read the back of the paper, careful not to show it to me. Instead, he let me see the other papers, the ones I hadn't selected: 1 involved a blindfolded game, 3 involved being led around on a leash, 4 being shackled and crawling. I felt simultaneously glad that I hadn't selected any of these, and scared of what number 2 held in store for me. As if reading my mind, S. decided to share what was on 2 with me: He informed me that nothing would happen until tonight when the scenario that I had chosen would then be played out. So that would give me plenty of time to reflect upon and anticipate it.

Card number 2 had four steps on it: Step1: I was to be blindfolded and shackled on the bed. Step 2: I was to have the nipple clamps attached. (OH NO!!!!) Step 3: S was going to pull on the nipple clamps while alternating the use of a dildo and the wand on me. Step 4: This step read simply: "Subspace".

I groaned, and pointed out that I would probably be in subspace long before step 4. S grinned and reminded me that I had selected my own doom and that he had given me a chance to change my mind. I muttered something about how choosing things blindly wasn't fair. This just made him grin more.

And so the evening passed, until S. decided it was time to follow the instructions on card number 2. Since the directions weren't specific about how he was supposed to restrain me, he became creative: I was put on all fours on the bed and then the ankle cuffs were connected closely together. Then my arms were stretched forward and my wrist cuffs were attached to a point midway up the wrought iron bedframe. This allowed me to just barely rest my elbows on the bed to support myself but still put quite a bit of pressure on my wrists as well. As always, the sensation of being shackled while blindfolded is quite disorienting: I can only judge my position by feel and sound and the world seems to reel around me.

Once step 1 was complete, I started to squirm as much as the restraints would allow me, which was very little, because I knew full well what was coming with step 2: My absolute most hated and dreaded toy: The nipple clamps. :( :( :(   Now I don't know if you've ever experienced nipple clamps, but having one of the most sensitive and delicate areas of your body crushed in a metal vice is VERY painful. I tend to be very quiet, but the nipple clamps are guaranteed to make me cry out every single time.

As soon as I heard the metal clink of the clamps, I started to hyperventilate and shake in anticipation. "What's the matter?" S taunted me. "You know that sound, don't you!" He snickered. "You chose this scenario, remember?" I was too scared of the oncoming pain to argue but just groaned in anticipation and pulled fruitlessly against the cuffs. Seconds later, I felt S's hand against my right breast, teasing the nipple so it would be upright and at it's most sensitive just prior to attaching the clamp. My whole body froze in dread of the coming pain and my breath came in short gasps. A second later, and I cried out "Oh my GOD!" as pain exploded across my right breast. It was so sharp it literally took my breath away. I started panting hard and moaning in pain. A few tweaks of my right nipple and I cried out in pain again, both my breasts in agony.

I froze, trying not to move an inch, panting and crying in pain. Then I heard S's footsteps as he left the room. My head whirled. Where had he gone? The scenario didn't call for him to leave me shackled to the bed with nipple clamps causing me increasing agony every second!!! But the pain was too intense for me to speculate for long and I panted in misery, trying to get some handle on the agony before the next step.

When S came back a few minutes later without any explanation, I could hear him move behind me on the bed. By now, the pain in my nipples had reduced from feeling like burning ice picks being thrust through them to merely being burned by hot coals every few seconds. I was sweating all over from the effort of trying to deal with the pain. I felt him tease my nether lips apart and then insert a toy inside me and turn it on. The dull vibration deep inside made me jump, and the chain between the nipple clamps swung, bringing a fresh wave of agony.

"Five minutes with this toy, then five minutes of the wand on low, then five on high" S reminded me of the next step in the scenario. I knew from past experience that the toys would be great only until I came, and then the stimulation would become so intense on my highly sensitive parts that every subsequent orgasm would bring increasing pain and exhaustion. So I tensed myself and tried to ignore the thrumming deep inside. I had to delay cumming for as long as possible.

Of course, S. made this as difficult as possible: He alternated shifting the toy deep inside me, rotating it, pushing it against my clit, and pulling on the nipple clamps. The fresh waves of sensation of pleasure and pain made it nearly impossible for me to maintain a grip on my efforts not to cum. However, I somehow managed to barely hang on until the first five minutes were up.

Then I felt the first toy being removed and the wand penetrating me deeply with the main head right against my clit. And I knew that my battle for self control was lost. It simply isn't possible to resist that level of stimulation for long. The second the wand was turned on, I gasped and squirmed, trying to distance myself from the powerful thrumming both inside and outside. But S. grabbed me by my ponytail and yanked my head back, causing me to immediately lose all self control and cum explosively: With my head forced all the way up, my back arches, causing me to present my clit fully to the wand, and intensifying the sensation tenfold. I never had a chance.

From that moment on, the wand went from deep pleasure to torture: Even before I was done cumming, I was already trying desperately to get away from the wand's stimulation on my overly sensitive parts. When I use the wand on my own, I always turn it off right after I start cumming or else it gets much too intense to cope with. But of course, this time I had no choice. I squirmed and wriggled, and pulled against the restraints, but all to no avail. Shackled as I was, I couldn't move far, and S simply held onto the wand and followed my every movement, making escape from the stimulation impossible. From time to time, he would pull on the clamps as well.

At this point, the waves of pleasure and pain were simply too much to cope with and I gave myself up to subspace. I don't remember the rest all that clearly, except that when he turned the wand from low to high, the stimulation was so much that I tried to climb the bedframe to escape. But of course, with my wrists cuffed to it, it was impossible, and I wound up in a kneeling position with S pressing the wand upwards as hard as he could against my sensitive clit. "Oh, oh, oh, no, no no!" I gasped repeatedly as he laughed and followed my every attempt to move away.

Finally, it was over, and I collapsed onto the bed. I lost track of how many times I came. After about the fourth time, it was just pretty much continuous waves. The only moment that is really clear in my memory is when S removed the nipple clamps: A fresh wave of agony and then I subsided back into the depths of subspace.

As always, S. was gentle with me afterwards, cuddling me and speaking to me gently until I emerged from subspace.

It wasn't until the next morning that it occurred to me to ask S. where he went when he had left the room right after attaching the nipple clamps. His response? A nonchalant: "Oh, I had to pee..." made me want to bite him over and over and over again.

"You...had...to...PEE???!!!" I demanded?

"Yep!" he smirked at me.

"You left me there, shackled and helpless, in agony because you had to PEE????" I was outraged.

"Uhhuh!" S confirmed, clearly amused by my reaction.

"GAH!!!!" this was the only response I could come up with. I smacked him several times and he caught my wrist and just laughed at me.

"Now I know you're a true Dom," I muttered. "Only a real sadist would be able to inflict that much agony on me and then casually walk out of the room to go urinate... bastard!" This only made him laugh harder.

Being Punished...

The night before last, I received my first real punishment from S. It pretty much sucked and I'm not all that eager to relive it, but I figured I should probably post about it.

I'd rather not get into exactly what I did to earn the punishment, but I can freely admit that I not only deserved it, I was pretty much asking for it. :(  S. had asked me multiple times not to do something. But I pretty much ignored him because, in my mind, it was something clearly in the realm of vanilla life and not connected to any Dom/sub roles. So I continued to do as I pleased, despite his repeated attempts to get me to stop. He tried reasoning with me. He tried humoring me out of it. He tried threatening me. Nothing had the slightest effect. So, I guess he decided that the only final resort left was to whip me for my continued stubbornness.

I have to admit that I honestly didn't expect him to go through with it. The behavior he objected to was so clearly not related to my role as his sub, and he's so often generous and lenient with me. I figured it was just talk when he told me that I would earn 80 lashes with the whip if I insisted on continuing. In fact, I even teased him about it, when he changed it from 80 to 40: I told him that by the end of the day he'd probably change it to 5 and then not even do that.

Have you ever taunted a Dom? Turns out, that's a pretty foolhardy thing to do. But I felt pretty safe doing it. S. is so nice to me and usually softens and lets me get away with no end of stuff. In fact, I went so far as to call S. a "softie" under my breath during our discussion. Unfortunately for me, he caught it: "Oh, I'm a softie, am I? We'll see about that tonight!" and that may have been the determining factor in his decision to go ahead and punish me. :/

So there I was in bed, all cozy and curled around S's chest, as we chatted before bed. We were back to discussing the behavior in question, and I freely admitted that I had blatantly ignored him and done it yet again. I felt safe, confident that I'd get away with it and he wouldn't do anything about it. Unfortunately for me, I must have pushed S. just too far because next thing I knew he pulled away from me and got out of bed to fetch the whip. He told me I would get 10 lashes on each breast and 10 on each butt check for a total of 40 to teach me not to disobey him. I told him that this wasn't fair. And that the topic wasn't related to our Dom/sub relationship. However, his only response was: "Oh it is fair." He was determined...

S. told me to sit up and present my breasts for whipping. My immediate response was: "Are you in-SANE?" There is no way on earth I have enough self control to voluntarily present an area that sensitive for that level of pain. I instinctively curled up and covered my breasts with both arms protectively. My nipples were already incredibly sore from him applying the nipple clamps (I HATE THOSE BLOODY THINGS) the other night and yanking on them.

"Fine!" S. snapped, and immediately got out the wrist cuffs. By this point, I was beginning to realize that I was really in trouble and so I obeyed when he commanded me to present my wrists. He shackled them quickly and roughly and then blindfolded me. He then had me turn so that I was on my knees, facing the foot of the bed, and proceeded to cuff me to the bedframe with my arms spread apart a couple of feet so that I couldn't escape. He then yanked down my pajama bottoms.

Before I could even brace myself, S. moved to the left side of the bed and I heard the whistle of the whip through the air, followed by an incredibly sharp pain across my left butt cheek. I think, this was the moment when I realized that I was in deep, deep trouble. Normally, S. is very nice about slowly warming me up with light strokes and rarely whips me very hard. I usually wind up with pink raised welts, but within 24 hours, they have completely faded and disappeared. From the agony of my left butt cheek, I knew that there wasn't going to be any warm up period and I would be wearing these welts for a lot longer than 24 hours.

While I was processing this, S. had moved to the right side of the bed and next thing I knew, my right butt check was in agony. God, the pain was intense! I moaned and struggled against the cuffs. Then, I heard him move toward the foot of the bed and my entire body stiffened in anticipation of feeling the pain on my breasts. This is the part where I got lucky though: Because of the way my cuffs were shackled to the bedframe, there wasn't much room for S. to wind up and the strokes across my breasts were nowhere near as hard as the ones on my rear. They still stung though, especially when anything touched my already sore nipples, and I squirmed and moaned.

Then I heard S. moving again, back to the left of the bed. Two more quick strokes and explosions of agony on my left butt cheek. The pain was much more intense than I had bargained for and I yanked reflexively against my restraints, but as the center of my bedframe is wrought iron, I wasn't going anywhere. When I heard his footsteps heading back to the right side of the bed, I instinctively moved as far away from him as I could toward the left of the bed. Unfortunately, with the cuffs attacked to the foot of the bed, this meant only a foot or two before I was brought up short. My attempts to move away had no effect on S. and two more agonizing slashes against my right butt check had me whimpering and crying out.

By the time S. had reached only 4 on each cheek, I was shaking all over and felt that I simply couldn't bear six more lashes on each side. I started to cry underneath the blindfold. I think this is around the time when I started to beg: "No, no, no, no, no, please, please, please, please..." But S. seemed to have taken me calling him a "softie" to heart and there was no mercy for me. "You asked for it," he reminded me. He repeatedly grabbed me by the hair and instructed me to stop moving around on the bed. I don't honestly know whether I did or didn't. I was in so much pain, I couldn't begin to think straight, let alone make my body obey me. Each new impact of the whip was increasingly agonizing and I knew for sure that I wouldn't be willfully disobeying S. again any time soon about anything.

By the time the final strokes were delivered, I was crying in earnest, and shaking hard. Usually, S. comforts me once a scene is over, holds me, strokes me, speaks softly and reassuringly to me. But this was punishment so instead, he roughly removed the cuffs and then told me in a stern voice: "Since you think I'm a softie, I won't be applying any ice to your welts tonight. We'll see how soft you think I am." All I could do was tremble, my face buried against the bedsheets, my willfulness completely broken.

I only have a vague recollection of what exactly happened after that. My entire bottom was on fire and the slightest movement was agonizing. S. told me the next day that he had whipped me hard enough to actually break the skin in certain places. All I knew was that I would never ever repeat the behavior for which he had punished me. After a while, the trembling subsided, and I wound up curled on my side in the bed. Every time I shifted my position at all or the sheet so much as brushed against my bottom, I would stiffen and moan as the pain overtook me again. After a few hours of this, S. decided that I had learned my lesson and finally fetched some ice and applied it to the swollen welts across my backside. After that, I was finally able to fall asleep, although I woke up all night long, each time I tried to turn over or move too much.

The next day brought a definite change in my attitude: I now have a healthy respect and fear of defying S. He's certainly been generous and forgiving of me, but I now know that if I push him too far, I''ll bear the consequences. The welts and bruising across my backside are a testament to that.

Catching Up

It's been too long since I last updated this blog. So here is a brief post to catch up on everything: Over the winter and spring months, S. was living out of state so our only contact was via phone or Skype. But in mid June, he moved in with me!!!! Yay! He has been here for about six weeks now and things have been very busy. So today is the first chance I've had to update my blog. But I hope to update it more frequently in the future! :) So please be patient with me. Hopefully, I will have more fun posts to come! Although the timing and the nature of what happens is, of course, up to S., not me!  ;)

Sleeping in Shackles

CLINK!..

Have you ever worn shackles to bed at night? If so, then you know just how loud the clink of metal against metal is in the silence of the middle of the night... It's LOUD! Every time you turn over or adjust your position even the slightest bit, your movement is betrayed by a humiliating metallic clank, reminding you of your helplessness.

S. decided last night, once he was done playing with me, that he would leave the ankle restraints on and connect them tightly to one another, leaving me with conjoined feet for the duration of the night (with only a couple inches play between my two ankles). This was a first for me: I've never slept in restraints before and it was a very weird sensation to settle down for the night, knowing I couldn't move easily, let alone get out of bed and go anywhere.

As usual, my overactive imagination went into overdrive the minute I heard the clink of the cuffs being secured together: What if there was a fire? What if I got a leg cramp? What if I forgot and tried to get up in the night and fell flat on my face? What if the cuffs caused me to develop a blood clot? And, worst of all, what if I had to pee???!!!!

I voiced this last concern aloud, and S. smirked at me for a moment before telling me that I would have to wake him up and request to use the bathroom, and then it would depend on his mood and that he might be generous and release me from the restraints, or else if he wanted some amusement, he would make me crawl and test out his new camera by taking pictures of my humiliating trip to the bathroom. Gah...that last idea made me scowl and growl under my breath. Sadly, my reaction, just made S. smirk all the more.

I fell asleep quickly despite the shackles, because I was tired, but awoke as soon as I attempted to shift positions: The combination of the pressure against my ankles as I tried to move, and the loud clink of metal against metal was enough to wake me up and remind me of my predicament. I immediately scowled because the sound had clearly awakened S. too: I could hear him snickering beside me. Grrr.

This pattern continued throughout the night: I would doze off for a while, until I attempted to adjust my position, and would then be jolted awake each time by the inability to freely move my legs, and the sound of metal, loud against the silence of the night. After the third or fourth time I woke up, I became aware of a new and most unwelcome sensation: A need to urinate. I spent some time, lying there, trying to figure out whether I could wait it out till morning, wondering whether S. would be generous and release me to walk to the bathroom on two feet, and considering releasing the ankle restraints and sneaking out of bed without waking him.

I quickly dismissed the latter: I knew that S. would probably wake up and that deliberately defying him would probably result in a particularly unpleasant punishment. So I grit my teeth and woke him up: "I have to go pee..." my voice sounded small and plaintive in the darkness. I could hear S. snicker in response as he considered my request. I held my breath, wondering what he would do, dreading the thought of attempting to crawl with my ankles shackled together. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, S. bent down and released my ankles. "Thank you!!!" I breathed as I rushed out of bed before he could change his mind. I've never quite appreciated the ability to walk on my own two feet to go relieve myself quite so much as I did right at that moment.

Once I returned to bed, S. immediately refastened my ankles to one another and I tried tried to sort through the odd mix of resentment and gratitude I was feeling toward him. I never say the evil M... word aloud unless he absolutely forces it out of me (which usually involves a LOT of pain to get me to give in and voice it) but what was going through my head was something like this: "I'm lucky I have a generous Master. Ewww...Master...I HATE that word. Grrr. I refuse to call him that! But I am grateful. But wait, why am I grateful?! He's the one who tied me up in the first place! Dammit, I clink every time I move. This is all his fault! But it was awfully nice of him, to let me walk to the bathroom. Gah...I always walk to the bathroom! Why should I be grateful? Oh god, I'm so confused!!!" Finally, giving up on figuring out my own confused thoughts, I dozed off once more, secure in both his arms and the shackles.

In the morning, when I woke up, I realized that I had been having a series of extremely erotic dreams that included shackles, whips, and many other things. Also, my ankles ached as if I had been unconsciously tugging against the restraints all night long. I was very grateful when S. permitted the cuffs to be removed at long last!!! They made for quite an interesting night...