Don't Step On The Mome Raths

On a temporary basis, my Dom and I work together. Hooray. 

This gives us a couple of hours of empty space to fill with whatever it is we feel like filling it with, vocally speaking. 

He posed a question. (A baited question, but a question, all the same,) 

"How long would it take you to go from shocked/surprised to bliss if ____ happened?" 

Do you want to know what "_____" is? Because I think you do. 

"____"... That was a... monologue, if you will, by my Dom about a rather specific scenario, or set of scenarios rather, that He seems rather privy to seeing coming to fruition. Are you ready to hear what that monologue sounded like? I'll preface you... It's naughty. It's dirty. It's taboo. It made me blush. And made me wet. Wanna keep going? Cause I'll tell you.... 

He said, "How long would it  take you to go from scared to bliss if I blindfolded you, put noise canceling headphones on you and tied you to the bed, and started fucking you... And all of a sudden, while I was fucking you, another dick got shoved down your throat?" 

I responded by blushing. 

So He had to continue.... 

"What if I was fucking you and another dick got shoved down your throat while my hand was wrapped around your throat... And then you began counting the hands groping your body, feeling your tits, your ass, your pussy and realized,.. There are eight of them..." 

And finally, I responded, without me thinking about it, "Maybe 2 to three seconds."

So... To my beloved community... My kinky brothers and sisters.... How much do you relate to my reaction? How much would you like to participate in a fantasy like this? Tell me your thoughts, your ideas. How would you like to participate in this scenario if invited? Tell me all the things. 

In Kink & Love, 
F  

I don't know why, but ever since I moved in with Daddy, I actually sleep. Okay, maybe I do know why. It's because my nervous system is, for the first time in my entire adult life, not on Red Alert - Category Five status. Matter of fact, He may or may not have witnessed, on multiple occasions, me... <gasp> snoring. I know that's obnoxious and embarrasses me to no end, but what it also tells me is that a physiological fucking change has taken place. Even just mere months ago, sleep was a scary thing. When I went to sleep, it took hours and frightening amounts of natural and synthetic chemicals introduced to my bloodstream for sleep to even be a possibility. Now, because of Him, it simply takes the lack of light from the sun going to bed, the fact that our bedroom is the quintessential Red Room, but moreover and most importantly -- because He insists that we are completely naked when we are in bed. There is something very magickal about the feeling of His skin against mine. So magickal, in fact, that the aforementioned magick produces something not unlike Schrodinger's dumb shit and I literally drool on Him when I fall asleep every night. 

I dunno. I know that not all, but most of us that identify as the little s, and more specifically those of us that identify as a little l have something, far more often than not, in common: unresolved trauma. Maybe even partially resolved, largely resolved or in progress... (I'm not knocking your therapy status, just stating that most of us were led to our position on this chess board from a strikingly similar starting point.) 

Fuck. I don't know where I'm going with this. I think this may be called, 'rambling' or 'soundboarding'. I don't think it matters. If you're reading this, it was your choice. As much as we, collectively, like to be forced to do things, the fact that you're reading this was very likely not something you were forced to do... So, maybe it's not rambling, for rambling's sake. Maybe it's somewhat cohesive thought spewed out onto the vast plains of the interwebs so that people that think like me (ie: you) and people who think like you, (ie: me) can corroborate, collaborate, (alright, stop, collaborate and listen) [sorry, I quite literally could not help myself there]... You won't believe this, surely, but my thought train has once again been lost. Let's regroup. 

The point is, maybe, that I wasn't looking for Daddy when I found Him. In fact, I found Daddy and thought He was most likely the most vanilla motherfucker that ever lived. But one trip to the gym together, and one transparent and open conversation later, here we are planning the remainder of our existence together. (Yeah, not just life, but what comes after it, too. Chew on that for a minute.) 

This isn't relevant WHATSOEVER, but it's happy as fuckall and I want to share it. The other day, Him and I were walking out of some retail establishment and we were holding hands. (Daddy has a rule that when we are out mingling with the public at large that I am to be touching Him in some way or another. Yeah. Shit for the Lady Spank Bank.) But He was holding my left hand with His right and you know what happened? He grabbed my hand, started groping it like a... groper... And laughed to Himself. I wanted to get in on the fun, so I asked Him what He found so funny. He told me, "I was feeling for your wedding ring and wondering why you weren't wearing it." 

This resulted in a good chuckle and a moment that will forever be tattooed upon my entire existence. Daddy and I are not married. But do you want to know what that interaction told me? That we already are in His mind. His subconscious brain told Him, "Stop! Something is wrong here!" 

If that isn't the very gatdang definition of tangible permanence, I dunno what is. 

My day collar should be here any day. How exciting is that?

P.S. Hi Daddy. I love you. 

It took about two minutes after He inserted the plug for the pain to stop and I stopped screaming and writhing in pain. And much to my surprise, when the pain stopped, it stopped. It didn't linger or taper off. It just stopped. How about that?

He instructed that it was to remain in place for an hour, at which time He was going to take my 'other hole' (I believe that's His wording, verbatim) so that I could see what it felt like to have both holes penetrated at the same time. 

I'm not going to lie and say that I have never been turned on by someone's words before. That's a silly thought. But what makes His so different from anything I've experienced before is a combination of things, the most relevant here is that I have learned that when He says something, He means it. It's not some regurgitated line He's spewing at me because it worked on someone else before. It's not babble void of meaning or intent. In fact, it's the complete opposite. If He says something to me, declares intention, He's going to fucking do it -- He fucking means it. And standing alone on that fact, His words do something to me that no other's have ever done. 

So for an hour He entertained Himself by demanding I walk away from Him and bend over so He could see it and He also seemed to get a kick out of me figuring out that I could walk normally. And true to His word, an hour later, He again demanded I disrobe and He took me on the couch in the best way -- rough and dirty. 

The plug came out while He was taking me, and that, I suppose, concluded my first day of anal training. The excitement and pleasure that He derived from each step of the experience is something that truly negates the pain I felt. Obeying and pleasing Him brings more to my life and delivers a phenomenon of permanence that far exceeds the temporary feeling of pain it was delivered with. And lets be honest... The transcendent level of trust I've placed in Him allows me to succumb to the deep desires alive in me... I get to relax and be the plaything of that wonderful, loving sadist. Lucky me. 

Respectfully, 
r

I like to think there is a sacred and unspoken bond between all submissive people... An understanding that we share something so sacred between us that is nothing short of unfathomable to our vanilla brothers and sisters... But something that makes perfect sense to us...

There are thus far beyond tens of thousands of possible ways that each of us can gift our D's with our submission, and there is no one-size-fits-all way that submission is achieved. We are all so unique and different, there are so many niche chasms within us that make each dynamic a unique and beautiful phenomenon. That in and of itself is a miraculous and beautiful gift... But (ba dum tss) ... 

With His permission and blessing, I get to share with my friends and my community something really amazing about the dynamic He shares with me... My anal training. 😄 

Before I met Him, I'd never had anal sex. I'd never had anything inserted into my ass, I'd never had my asshole played with, and I really have never wanted to. In full transparency, I have, many years ago, used a toy on myself out of absolute naivety... However I've never had the trust nor the safe playground that is necessitated to explore such depths. Until I met Him. 

To be clear, I've still never had anal sex. Not really. The other day, He did manage to get the tip -- and I mean literally -- just the tip -- into my ass, but never his whole cock. His cock is far too large for an untrained asshole to just take. That's fucking batshit. Seriously. But He knows that. So instead of doing what those pesky vanilla boys do -- Try to guilt you in to it unprepared and untrained anytime the desire strikes -- He did what real men do... He got a set of anal training plugs. 😄 

He is a strict but merciful man. So He was kind enough to refrain from beginning my training during my monthly troubles... That great man is more in tune with me and my body than I am, forewarning me of it's arrival before I even knew. But as soon as it was past (and the tragedy of reality that struck in between) He made a very sudden request for me to disrobe and bend over on the ottoman in the living room. And I may love rainbows, but I ain't no dummy. So I obeyed. (I may like talking back, but I don't like His flogger. They are very persuasive.) 

After generously licking my ass and confusing the the actual fuck out of my nervous system, He gently but firmly inserted the smallest of the three anal training plugs into my virgin asshole. 

I'd love to tell you some magical tale about how I was writhed into a muscle clenching orgasm that melted my brain... But the truth is more beautiful, albeit much less lyrically romantic. 

What happened when He plunged that dainty little plug into my asshole was nothing short of immense and enveloping red hot pain. Sure, He put it into my asshole, but I felt it in my fucking kneecaps. The pain radiated to my temples and made me involuntarily scream out in pain. I wasn't restrained so I reactively and without thinking stood up and turned to Him, embraced Him and bit into his shoulder, or maybe His neck before screaming in pain again. But He held me and, even though He laughed a little bit more than I would have liked, He was merciful and kind and allowed me to scream and writhe in pain. 

I think I'll pin this here and finish this first installation tomorrow. 

Thank you so much to the friends that read and commented on my last post about my collaring. From the bottom of my heart I appreciate you! 😄 

I've been thinking a lot about the collaring in general, the whole concept, and part of it, I want to share with you: the ceremony. Parts of it I want to keep for Him... The sanctity of what we are doing is monumental and I will respect that by keeping His things strictly for Him. Having said that, I am so grateful that I have His permission to share some parts with my friends and my community. Writing is my therapy. And I am an extrovert. I feel like it's a win/win. 

Today Him and I were talking about sex... Not the penetration parts, necessarily, but the fun stuff that leads up to the sex... The 'foreplay', I suppose. I am beyond surreal status in my realizations that He is at or exceeding my level of... kinky... It's one of those things that can be hard to talk about sometimes (especially when you meet in vanilla settings) but my gosh... Realizing that everywhere I zig, He zags... Finding out that the things that have been asleep in the darkest and most defended parts of my mind are being lovingly, safely, and eagerly coaxed to the playing field and welcomed by Him is something that I can't accurately or completely convey... But I tell you, friends, it's fucking beautiful.

One of those things is a desire of mine to use sensory deprivation techniques and tools in play. I have long desired to be deprived of my ability to see and hear and to be played with in unexpected, sadistic, sexual and psychological ways. (Even talking about it right now gets me all hot and bothered, to be transparent.) One of the ways I conveyed to him I wanted to do this was with vision depriving contact lenses. I'm not yucking anyone else's yum but to me, the blindfold feels too "Fifty Shades", a hood feels like past experiences I don't want to relive, but contacts would allow Him to see my facial expressions, have access to my face and limit my ability to see -- this would mean the amount of trust I was placing in Him would skyrocket... And I fucking love that shit.  

Being as I am getting ramped up for my collaring... It made me think of something symbolic and beautiful I would like to do for Him... I'm pretty sold on the idea myself already but I am interested in getting some opinions or thoughts... Not seeking approval, necessarily, but a genuine interest in my friends and community members' thoughts on this as an act of submission... So... Tell me what you think: 

I want to use those vision-depriving contact lenses for the entirety of my collaring ceremony. I'll be led to Him by a trusted person and once there, I'll be knelt before Him and our officiant will speak to our witnesses and friends... But I think that being deprived of sight for this experience would be a symbolic (and, really, rather physical) way of showing Him and our peers that I trust Him... Enough that I would willingly take away my ability to see, relying entirely on Him for my safety, protection and well-being... I think there is a symbolic beauty in that act that moves me... 

I know how I feel about it. But I'm curious if anyone else 'sees' (get it?!) my point. 

Tell me your thoughts. For now, thank you for reading. 😄 

Respectfully, 
r

I don't know if this is the same for every submissive, but for me, my Eternity Collar is most definitely one of the top tiers of my upward aim. As a human, as a woman, as His submissive... It's one of my highest priorities and something that I try to be mindful of with every step I take and in every decision I make. My Eternity Collar is one of the two hands that I am trying to bring together and one of the most crucial steps in what I consider the greatest of my life's achievements. 

AKA... It's kind of a big deal. 

(I wonder... Is it a big deal for you, too, my beautiful, sweet submissive lovelies?) 

With Daddy's permission and blessing, I am being fulfilled in the most glorious way by not only knowing that my Eternity Collar is coming, but also being given the exciting opportunity to chronicle and share my collaring ceremony with all of you... Everything from getting to detail my planning and decision making but also getting to ask my community for opinions and vantage points - to see from perspectives I may not see clearly on my own. 

This is really....REALLY exciting for me. I hope you are going to come hold hands with me and follow along on this process. The single most important, symbolic and beautiful experience of my life is something that I get to share with you... With the hopes that it will strengthen my own bond with Him but motivate and encourage you in your upward aim... And because who better to share this experience with but you sweet beautifuls? 

Let's open up the table for discussion. I want to hear everything you are willing to share. Are you being collared? Are you having a ceremony? Do you want to be collared? Why is collaring important to you? What are you doing to show you are worthy of your collar? Doms -- what are things you look for to know your submissive is ready? What is important about collaring to you? .... I want to know all your opinions and thoughts. 😄 

Respectfully, 
r

I am trying to write and it's not happening. Maybe it's time for coffee. I think we'll try that and regroup after coffee has been had and yoga has been done. Cause I'm all over the freaking place right now and nothing I'm saying is making any damn sense. 

Ha! I don't have a Dom or a Daddy to tell me it's 'unladylike' to swear. So.... It's fucking coffee time and this blog is absolutely fucking pointless. Ooh... No Dom or Daddy to tell me I'm too little for caffeine. I'm getting away with everything. Maybe I don't want one after all... 

Who am I kidding? Of course I do. 

     I couldn't explain to you why, what precisely motivated the endeavor, but yesterday, after I got out of bed, as I stared at my wardrobe, I decided that I wanted to dress up like a complete slut. At least for a little while. "Why?" I asked myself. Legitimate question. I live alone. There is no one to enjoy it. So, what's the point? I couldn't find for myself an answer. But I did it anyway. 

 If you looked, then you'd understand how that could be a touch difficult to put to words. Haha!

     But, that's where it started. Bra, matching panties, fishnet stockings, and a denim skirt that would almost certainly get me arrested in public as it's almost pointlessly short, and a black short sleeve, cropped mesh top that you can absolutely see entirely through. I put my hair in a tight bun at the crown of my head, and I imagine a couple of my dreadlocks fell out of my bun as they almost always do. Oh and the faux suede pumps. Pedicured toes. 

     And even though it had no purpose and no one to enjoy it, I still did. I was sad when I had to put on my modesty and go modest. 

     Did I tell you I have a lingerie fetish? Of course I didn't. We hardly know one another. So, guess what? I have a lingerie fetish. So it's not like what you may think of when you think of a lingerie fetish. What I love to do is wear very sexy lingerie under my everyday clothes. Here's why... Ladies, listen up, this is gold right here... You could wear frumpy sweatpants but feel more confident in yourself than ever, and when you feel confident, dear, you exude confidence. And you can do that by wearing cute lingerie under your frumpy sweats. 

     I wear lingerie, nice looking lingerie, definitely not high end but not total trash either, every day. Matching sets. And it makes me feel fucking incredible. I walk straighter, I speak more directly... That's my fetish. I'm always wearing cute lingerie. Is that weird? 

Ha! 

little R 

A work on non-fiction, brought to you by your favorite resident little. 😄 

I'm not allowed to drink. 

But she is. 

And she got taken out to a special place last night. A hotel with several bars and restaurants scattered around inside. They found one that looked nice. She had dinner, it was amazing. Great conversation. And one of her favorites... IPA's from local breweries. When the waitress came to serve them their last round of beers, she looked around carefully and then in a hushed voice, suggested that they take them 'to go' and walk around the hotel and try to find the secret speakeasy. 

Intrigued, they paid the tab and left on their adventure. They walked up and down the hallways, up and down flights of stairs. Passed other couples hand in hand with secrets hidden behind their smiles. 

They found no secret speakeasy. But what they did find was another bar. They challenged one another to a friendly game of pinball. (That is, after all, how we met.) And after the game was over and their second last beers were had, they made their way out, the door. There was a restroom on the right and she walked up the steps to the door to use it. Before she could open the door, he grabbed around her waist and turned her to face him, her back coming to rest on the wall behind them... 

Except it wasn't a wall at all. The 'wall' began it's swing inward and still entangled they fell into what lie beyond it... They took a moment and righted themselves and realized they'd just fallen through a hidden door and were now standing in a dimly lit hallway. 

He moved again, this time planting her back against a wall that didn't move and he kissed her, deeply. As bed wanted to so badly for so long. She kissed him back and suddenly... 

I woke up and after realizing we were so close to the secret, hidden speakeasy, I grabbed his hand and smiled and ran down the hallway. I got to the door at the end, paused. I looked up at him, his hand still wrapped around mine, I smiled, anticipation and excitement growing inside me like kindling become fire. I took a deep breath and pushed on the hidden door and it began to swing in and open...

(Photos To Come) 

I welcome your feedback on my first installment published in my blog. I am interested in gauging the reception here to see if it is worth a fourth, fifth or sixth installment being written, and I posted the first in a hurry. There are edits to be made, both grammatical and punctual, but I'm aware of those matters. 

However, I would very much enjoy your honest feedback about the story itself. Kindly, of course. 

Respectfully,  

-|-