They scare

Angry reactionaries with guns spouting time worn simplistic crowd pleasers appealing to the base natures of our existence.  How lovely.

Angry reactionaries with guns spouting time worn simplistic crowd pleasers appealing to the dreams of mean haters who love the ideas of problem solving with the barrel of a gun or just a plain old beating to within an inch of one’s life.  How droll.

Angry reactionaries with guns spouting time worn simplistic crowd pleasers appealing to the snarky dim wittedness of those who are self satisfied, self indulgent self aggrandizers who would diminish anyone with a rational thought or a brain that uses judgement.  Spit.

Angry reactionaries with guns spouting time worn simplistic crowd pleasers appealing to the mob and the fascists among us to ruin democracy and eternally kick ass.  Our future.

They scare.

Butch I am.  Bang.  Bang.

Butch I am.

Butch I’ll be.

Butch is that which makes me free.

Kill them all.

Knock ‘em dead.

Time is mine.

I lay in bed.

I dream the dream.

I think the thought.

Tough as nails and in your face

My life is full of wisdom and grace

The suns comes up

The sun goes down

I am the one who brings the frown

Butch I am

Butch I’ll be

Puff and tough

I ain’t got nobody

Just the right to be butch

I’ll stare you down

Shout you down

Scare you down

Muscle you down

Wimp you out

I am the thriller, the killer, the beacon of might

You the road kill

Butch I am

Bang. Bang.

Only the strong hate right

Watch as the sneerers get sneered at and the bullies get bullied.  Watch as the worm attempts to turn but cannot as the raging hormones of the true believers and ideologues fight the fight of whining, winning, killing, owning, breaking, burying

Killing for killing’s sake. Power for power’s sake.  Breaking for breaking’s sake.  Owning for owning’s sake.   Stomping the devil for the sake of stomping the devil.  Arms and the man.  Swords and the woman.  The ferocity and bared teeth.  Fight for freedom.  Freedom means mine ….protected by me.   Good ole’ intimidation works.  I bite.   I kick.  I rage.  Democracy ain’t freedom.  Week kneed accomodators and mealy mouthed chiselers.  Like to force them to the ground.  Eat dirt.  Cry for mama.  Feels good.  Only the strong hate right.

Dominance Games / Politics…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…http://dominancegamespolitics.com/

books…  http://bschiff.com/

http://twitter.com/BSchiff2

refer

http://www.etalkinghead.com/

http://thepoliticalforums.com/

http://www.thejeffersontree.com/

To donate for post or site as you may wish….. sin

is sin
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She grips the weapon used to cut his arm open. Trevor, her husband, slightly bent, looks up at her.

“What a wicked woman you be!”

She narrows her eyes and creases her brows. “Wicked Trevor? Me? Me Sherrill Kesley-Monroe wicked?”

He moves back from her, gripping his hand, trying to stop the bleeding.

“Wicked, hmph.” She wipes the knife with a hand towel. “Never once, not once in all me years of knowing yuh, did yuh eva say thanks, Sherrill, me sorry Sherrill, me appreciate yuh, Sherrill. Hmm? Yuh good fi nothin man!”

Trevor narrows his eyes at her as he sits on the stool close to the sink.

“Wash me draws dem, Sherrill, cook me food, clean di house, wipe me shit when me sick, Sherrill. Tek me son Sherrill, di son weh nuh belong to yuh, Sherrill, feed him, put clothes pan him, change the piss up sheet. Teach him fi read, Sherrill. Hmm? Yuh neva say sorry, Sherrill, fi sleeping wid yuh dutty bleach out face whore Karen! Have people a laugh! Call me fool, the level a embarrassment, Trevor! Me! Eh? Look pan him, look pan yuh boy!” She points at the boy sitting at the island in the kitchen. “When him come here, him couldn’t even spell him name! Me tek him despite constant chattin’ a di neighbours!  Me tek him, teach him fi read, yet him tun roun’ disrespec’ me!”

Trevor looks at his son and shakes his head.

“When yuh come in a night time, yuh drunkah dan Ole’ Nah Bade Rodney, di same man yuh sidung an’ criticize every chance yuh get! Yuh come in ya! Drunk! Who haffi mek yuh tea fi yuh sober up? Who haffi tek yuh call dem from work, cause you nuh know yuh yeye from yuh knee? Me! Me wake up 5 o’clock, look yuh breakfast, afta me stay up til late a wait pan yuh!”

He looks back at her, “Sherrill…”

“Nuh call me! Listen! Cause dat’s all me eva do! Listen to yuh complain bout work, complain bout people who nah give yuh back yuh money, me listen to yuh complain bout the young people weh just join the Force and get promotion while yuh still stuck inna di same damn position! Yuh neva help! Not even when me sick. All yuh do is complain! Eh? Me tek yuh cussin day in, day out! Me! Trevor! The boy is not me son! But me tek him an’ treat him di very way me treat me own! An’ all me ask, is fi him fi show me likkle respec’. All me ask is fi yuh show me some. Nuh likkle appreciation? Nuh nothin’?”

She throws the knife in the sink. “Shit! Wuklis man! Come!”

She walks over to where he sits and tugs at his shirt; he stands and follows her to the sitting room.

“Everything! Everything is me! Me iron yuh clothes, cook yuh food, weh yuh nuh eat a night time, even when is you call an’ seh me fi cook! Me cook all when me damn tiad! All when me nuh want weh yuh want. Every Thursday, yuh call “Sherrill, cook di curry chicken wid rice, curry chicken wid dumplin’,” an’ yuh nuh nyam it… come! Mussi think me have time!”

He sits on a chair in the sitting room; she goes to the bathroom for bandages and dressing.

“Hmm? Look at all me do? Me woulda do anything fi please yuh! All me ask is fi yuh listen, an’ show likkle appreciation!” She returns and stands before him. “Hmm Trevor, all me do, look pan all di tings me do? How much people woulda do di same fi yuh?”

He sighs and hisses his teeth, “damn woman, imagine me nuh do you nothin’.”

“Nothin’? Me ratid! Trevor wah mek yuh wicked suh?”

“Me have exam tomorrow, how me fi write afta you damage me han’?”

She pulls up a chair and examines the hand, “I’m sure yuh will manage.”

“Boi me a tell you.”

“Yuh neva do nothin’, tell me Trevor, yuh eva tek responsibility fi anythin’ inna yuh life?”

He hisses his teeth.

“Me tek yuh in when yuh neva have a ting! Look pan yuh now! Big Superintendent a Police. Look how yuh did skinny, now yuh have dis big belly in front a yuh. Yuh neva even know wah press clothes look like! Neva even have a family near-by. An’ me tek yuh in! An’ not a appreciation me get. Nuh likkle thanks Trevor? Nuh nothin’? Everyday me get cussin’ an’ fi wah? Fi wah Trevor? Me try, me always try.”

“Tek you time wid me hand!”

“Kip steady! Bout tek time, me soon done. Thirty-five years…”

“Lawd done now nuh!”

“Nuh tell me fi done, me nah done! All me do, is do good, yuh put out me son, me one boy, weh neva disrespec’ me yet, eh? Bring in dis boy, Bleach-Out Face Karen boy inna me house, have him a disrespec’ me. Yuh neva once tell him fi min’ him mannas!”

Trevor shuffles.

“Now, see me done.”

She gets up and walks to the bathroom.

“Eh, look how the woman mash up me han’, cut me fi nuh reason at all,” he mumbles.

“Nuh reason?” she sticks her head out of the bathroom, “nuh reason, hmph. Me say me done, but mek me tell yuh, me neva cut yuh good! Not even stitches yuh nuh need! But A bet yuh won’t lick me inna me face again, A bet yuh! Bout yuh nuh do nothin’, man gwan yaa!” she walks into her room and shuts the door, leaving Trevor to mumble to himself.

Move closer..

Touch him here..

Yet it seems that I am frozen.

Hanging from the ceiling

Is a plastic galaxy of feelings

A mock relationship has me committing?

What is it that I’m doing?

It’s been years and we’re hardly better
Only our tolerance, thicker than leather

Raving lunatics cradling dead and rotting bodies
Flesh and bone, scarred with knives and ink

Rescue me.

Or don’t.

It’s not his body pressed against her,
In her thoughts or in her bed.
Another has her longing
Passions searing hot, glowing red

Fingers slipping…

Can’t hang on..

It’s been dark too long,

So long, I forgot the taste of dawn.

The horizon, it glows,
You’re an anchor to my wrist
Books with wings, begging to carry me
You tie me down with a kiss

I hate this.

I want him.

With his patience and his kindness,
His distance and his dominance,
Your antics and lackness,
The closeness and realness..

Confusion so imminent.

My brain rattles with it…
It can’t always be like this..

Can it?

The longer I go without, the moodier I get

The more aggressive I want it

I want to be taken … and hard

I want bruised lips and heavy hands

Clutching hands, pinching nipples

I need to be bent, shaped and used

I get growlie in my desire

I become assertive and dominant

And I want to be put back into my place

By an alpha male

One who will pin me to my back

Submission by masculine power

Remind me of my feminine nature

Instead of the feral beast I become

When I have been left untouched

The constant tugging. The pegs. The clamps. The crop. The arousal. The edge. her body responds by His voice alone. He keeps her on edge all day. she is His, anytime,any place, any way He commands. His touch sends chills sharp enough her toes curl. her chest heavy. He takes her very breath. her eyes focused. her mind transformed. her body His. she reacts.

her fingers tremble. her legs become weak. her pussy lips swollen. her clit edible. He takes notice of her once small breasts.

Full and aching He watches her release.

He becomes intoxicated by her lust.

Do you dream of having a dungeon in your house? ….well take a peek at this article and your dream may come true…just click on  the image …

With each passing day

The feelings inside grow stronger

I can sense the arrival of the beast within

I am growing restless

Like a caged animal needing freedom

With a hunger that will not subside

I find myself pacing the boarders of my prison

Ever alerted to my surroundings

Having had a taste of what I want

I have discovered what I need

Your image remains steadfast

All that I am is for you

Everything is becoming clear to me

I wait  for you

Through the head-splitting headaches and misery, the focus of my disoriented thoughts settled upon how special we are, those of us who relish this D/s addiction.  How highly tuned we are, how unique and oddly gifted.  I’ve written recently about vanilla men, and in my sad state, as much as I craved a comforting hand on my brow, were it not from a dishy Dominant, thank you, but no thank you.

Strange Love.  Strange Highs and Strange Lows.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JIrm0dHbCDU

http://www.MaggieCarpenter.com

SO THAT’S it, after 27 years at the helm of one of the World’s biggest clubs, Manchester United, Sir Alex Ferguson has called Fergie time on his managerial career—a career laden with trophies, fantastic memories and, no doubt a host of fine wines.

I was a little too young to remember his time at Aberdeen but his record there speaks for itself: 3 Scottish Premier Division titles, 4 Scottish Cups, a Scottish League Cup, the UEFA Cup Winners’ Cup and the European Super Cup. When you consider that was achieved in the relatively short space of eight seasons and in a country in which there was generally a ‘big two’—Celtic and Rangers—it’s all the more remarkable. Even after his departure in 1986, Aberdeen remained a formidable opponent, probably due in no small part to his work and the strong position he left the club in. Scottish football was better by having him managing here. Our loss however, was England, and indeed Europe’s, gain.

I liked Manchester United when I was younger. I remember my mum coming home from the shops one day with a Man Utd jersey worn by the former stars like Bryan Robson, Paul McGrath and Mark Hughes. That side, while that team did have great players like those mentioned in it, the lustre of that once great club had faded. Ferguson changed all that, albeit not overnight having had to endure question marks over his own suitability for the job. It is said that the FA Cup win in 1990 finally gave him a little more breathing space. His early signings no doubt helped too. While I was gutted that he raided Celtic for my first footballing hero, Brian McClair, (I had in a fit of childhood pique told my Dad I was going to support Man Utd now, which obviously never materialised!), it was a shrewd bit of business as he became the first Man Utd striker since George Best to score 20 goals in a season, no mean feat! The signings of Gary Pallister, Steve Bruce, Denis Irwin, Paul Ince, Lee Sharpe coupled with the return of Mark Hughes from Barcelona were also massively influential and they all played their part in defeating Barcelona to win the European Cup Winners Cup in 1991. After that victory, the team and indeed Alex Ferguson never looked back. The emergence of Fergie’s fledglings, also known as the ‘Class of 92,’ which included Paul Scholes, David Beckham, Nicky Butt, Ryan Giggs, Gary and Phil Neville, coupled with signings such as Eric Cantona, Peter Schmeichel and Roy Keane saw the team dominate English football, and despite the title going to Blackburn, Arsenal, Chelsea and latterly Manchester City during the course of Ferguson’s tenure, quality signings such as Rio Ferdinand, Wayne Rooney, Cristiano Ronaldo, Ruud Van Nistelrooy combined with the manager’s own insatiable appetite to return to being the top dogs of English and European football ensured that they did just that and accounted for his vast trophy haul, which, take a deep breath included: 13 English Premier League titles, 5 FA Cups, 4 League Cups, 10 Charity Shields, 2 Champions League Titles, 1 Cup Winners Cup, 1 Intercontinental Cup and 1 World Club Cup.

That said, the strength of Ferguson’s management was not down to simply players or trophies. His mentality has been the key to his success. He is perhaps the single-most driven manager who has ever plied their trade in England. He was brought in to end the dominance of Liverpool domestically and he did just that. Perhaps the worst thing Kenny Dalglish could have done was laugh at the challenge of his Scottish rival, because he wasn’t laughing for long. When Alan Hansen made his now infamous ‘you don’t win anything with kids’ quip, Ferguson quickly showed that that comment, much like most of Hansen’s monotone offerings, was complete drivel. He also won the battle of wits, if you call it that, with Kevin Keegan, when he got him so worked up that he infamously claimed that he would ‘love it’ if his Newcastle United side beat Man Utd to the title. They didn’t, imploding in quite spectacular fashion, and have never come as close to the title again since then. Latterly he’s managed to knock Arsene Wenger into a cocked hat, so much so that you don’t hear a peep out of him, and his team haven’t won any silverware since 2005. Ferguson’s character was so strong that he swept aside most of the opposition that came his way, and at times, fatally weakened them. This psychological dominance was also evident in the way in which he controlled some would say, the media and the officials. The battles he won off the park, were just as important as those he won off it. Love him or hate him, football is going to be much sadder and less lively environment without him in it and Davie Moyes has a sizeable job on his hands to replicate his predecessor’s success.

GER

i said, “Sure.  No problem.”

That was on Friday ~ last week.  We had a busy weekend, so He didn’t mention it again, and i forgot all about it.  Monday evening, He says, “Did you get a chance to get me a clipboard?”

“O!  No!  i didn’t.  i’m so sorry!  i forgot all about it!”

“That’s ok,” He says.  ”You can get it tomorrow.”

Tuesday.   Work and then a meeting from 7:00 to 8:30 that night.  Home at 9:00.  Tired.

Wednesday morning.  Sir says, “Did you drive up and down Such-and-Such Road yesterday?”

i have to think a second.  ”Yes, yeah, yes, Sir, i did.  A couple of times, actually.”

“Did you happen to stop at Staples and get my clipboard?

“No!  O, no!  Omigosh, no, i forgot all… um, i forgot… all… about it.”  Downcast.

“Don’t worry,” He says, kissing the top of my head.  ”You’ll pay with your ass.”

Wednesday, i get off work at 5:00, do an errand, come home, unpack some stuff that needs to go in the refrigerator, go back out to the grocery.   i look for a clipboard, a simple wooden clipboard.  They have $5.99 plastic ones.  No.

i come home, unload groceries and put them away.  i’m getting ready to go back out when Sir gets home.  Where am i going?  To get the clipboard..

“No,” He says.  ”I told you to stop and get it, not go and get it.  There’s a difference between stopping off on your way to somewhere and going out to go there.”

“O,” i say.  Relieved.  ”Ok.  Tomorrow then.”

So, yesterday i go to a Walgreen’s and a Rite-Aid, ~ because they were convenient and it would have saved me time later.  Nope.  Plastic clipboard at one, no clipboard at the other.

Fine.  Staples it is.  And what a lovely array.  Good grief – a zillion clipboards.

We have the $12.99 ones:

And the $3.99 pink plastic one:

Looking, looking, looking, come on, where ARE the wooden ones?

Aha!  There they are!  Yay – $1.99 and just what He wanted.  Thank goodness!  {But i’m pretty sure i will still pay with my ass.}  i carry it home happily.

“Now,” He says, “do you know why i wanted this clipboard?”

“No, Sir,” i say, eager to learn, “What for?”

But He just nods.  ”You’ll see,” He says.

Here’s a great video by L David Mech, who wrote “The Wolf: Ecology and Behavior of an Endangered Species” in 1968.  The book, published in 1970 and re-published in paperback in 1981, is often cited as the reason why ‘dominance’ and ‘leadership’ models for dog training are acceptable.

L David Mech now admits he was wrong and has publicly announced on his website that he has pleaded with the publisher to stop publishing his book.

“Alpha” implies competing with others and becoming top dog by winning a contest or battle. However, most wolves who lead packs achieved their position simply by mating and producing pups, which then became their pack. In other words they are merely breeders, or parents, and that’s all we call them today, the “breeding male,” “breeding female,” or “male parent,” “female parent,” or the “adult male” or “adult female.”

In the rare packs that include more than one breeding animal, the “dominant breeder” can be called that, and any breeding daughter can be called a “subordinate breeder.”

I’m a supporter of positive reinforcement training.  Please be on the lookout for trainers who still use outdated information and possibly damaging training techniques.

Angry reactionaries with guns spouting time worn simplistic crowd pleasers appealing to the base natures of our existence.  How lovely.

Angry reactionaries with guns spouting time worn simplistic crowd pleasers appealing to the dreams of mean haters who love the ideas of problem solving with the barrel of a gun or just a plain old beating to within an inch of one’s life.  How droll.

Angry reactionaries with guns spouting time worn simplistic crowd pleasers appealing to the snarky dim wittedness of those who are self satisfied, self indulgent self aggrandizers who would diminish anyone with a rational thought or a brain that uses judgement.  Spit.

Angry reactionaries with guns spouting time worn simplistic crowd pleasers appealing to the mob and the fascists among us to ruin democracy and eternally kick ass.  Our future.

They scare.

Dominance Games…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…http://dominancegamespolitics.com/

books…  http://bschiff.com/

http://twitter.com/BSchiff2

refer

http://www.etalkinghead.com/

http://thepoliticalforums.com/

http://www.thejeffersontree.com/

To donate for post or site as you may wish….. sin is sin
https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd

https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=

Have you ever gotten so happy, so suddenly that you want to jump up and down, clapping your hands while giggling and squealing?

IAMSOEXCITEDICANTSTANDIT!

(Insert bouncing and giggling here)

I think I am manic…can you be manic if you’ve never been manic before?

OMG!!!

I needed this kick in the ass, this karmic twist, this summa cum laude, who’s a good girl, validation of myself as a colossal pick me up!!

I seriously may burst from how excited I feel right now.

I think I have to pee again…nope…just nerves…excitement

I want this …

This opportunity

I didn’t even know I wanted it until it was offered to me

Unexpected rewards and benefits…

Even if it doesn’t end up happening, what happened today?

What I was presented with and was showcased to me?

Has made me feel like a grown up again

Made me feel like I had value and was productive

The accolades!

Hearing yourself be spoken about…be praised!

And to have your response enhance what was being said to the point the speaker is

Animated and excited…it felt powerful

Dreamy

I had forgotten what it was like.

This moment makes up for so many things

It reminded me of my other side

The incredibly driven, strong woman I am

The one who men love to work with

The one where respect is earned

Where corporate ladders are hewn out of rough lumber

Tooled then assembled by hand

Carried alone and lifted together

High into the ramparts of a corporate world

I feel redirected and like I have renewed purpose

Like I was presented with a path

Choices were made and consequences resulted

Then the lord ruler of all that’s sane and just stepped into reward me

Hand me a moment that not just balanced what was happening to me

But gave proof through the night that “I” was still here

I feel a swell of appreciative gratefulness

That I was handed this precious gift today.

All it took was my stepping forward into an abyss

To realize that I could fly after all

After this post, I hope to talk to a really great author about one of her books, and how it might apply to some of the feelings I have been having.

My next goal, is to talk to another awesome author friend, to gain some insight into the differences between DD, D/S, and BDSM.

But first, a personal post.

BTW, I am feeling better now. **

Drawing the Line

It’s time for another truthful post. I had a bit of a scary moment the other day.  I was thinking about how to get another spanking from hubby. Truth be told, I like being spanked. I find it comforting, cathartic, and a lot of times, arousing.  Sometimes, I think about spankings all day. I make up scenes in my head, where I get pulled over his knee for a firm but loving chastisement. I daydream about paddles, switches and canes, and the howling and begging that would come from these sessions. I don’t know why I feel this way. It confuses me, and shames me. Surely, a normal person wouldn’t have these feelings. Would they?

It reminded me of the conversation hubby and I had a year ago, at the very beginning of our DD journey.  He had figured out very early on, even before I realized it, that I was a Spanko. Not that he knew that term. But he did articulate that he did not think DD would work for us, because I seemed to like being spanked.  That was very humiliating. And it still kind of confuses and hurts me now.  But he had brought up a very valid point.

This conversation came back to me recently, and it really worried me.  I am in a DD relationship with my husband, whom I am supposed to love, honor and obey.  And most of the time, I do that. Well, to be perfectly honest, I try to do it. I try to submit. I try to honor him. I TRY not to roll my eyes at him when he is being a doofus. And I try to honor him by not calling him a doofus very often – especially not to his face.

I also need to make something clear. I am not a masochist or a pain whore, or any other term that goes along with someone who enjoys pain. I don’t enjoy pain.  I cry when I have to get a shot, I put off all dentist appointments.

(By the way, shouldn’t my HOH force me to go to the dentist to see about my cavities before they become root canals? That should seriously fall under HOH duties- drag wife kicking and screaming into dentist OR spank her every hour until she goes. I hate going to the dentist!)

I don’t wear underwire bras or tight jeans (both are too constricting and painful). I don’t have a problem with someone else being masochistic, if that’s their shtick, so be it. But it’s not mine.

Why am is saying this?

Because I am confused about my reaction to the spankings. It’s hard to comprehend my liking something, that I don’t actually like – PAIN. It makes no sense to me.

And it goes against the unwritten rule in the DD society.  The rule seems to be that there is a line between BDSM and D/S and DD.  If I want to be a true DD’er, I need to hate my punishments, and be humble and submissive to my HOH.

This confuses me, and makes me feel like a freak – A DD freak.  I do feel badly when I disrespect my husband, or treat him badly, or manipulate him. And I feel badly when he has to punish me over these transgressions, since I know how much he dislikes spanking me.  I feel guilty and sad.

But does it keep me from doing the same action at a later time?

No.

For someone reason, I crave his punishment. I don’t know if it is the connection, the fact that he is giving me 100% of his attention, or if it is actually the release from the spanking. I don’t know.

I felt like such a freak when I realized that his words from the past may have actually been true.

I like it when he spanks me.  Sometimes I like it more than others.  Sensual and good girl spankings are awesome! But maintenance and punishment spankings are good for me as well. In fact, sometimes they are better. He goes longer and harder for maintenance and punishments sessions. And I feel so much better when they are over.

Sometimes, I wish this THING in me would go away. I wish I could do some sort of hypnosis, and forget everything about spanking, DD, dominance and submission – all of it. If I could forget this part of me ever existed, I wouldn’t be so unhappy when he ignores my needs; or even worse, just doesn’t get it.

He just does not understand or relate to any of this. He doesn’t get turned on by words like “red ass”, “naughty girl”, or “Yes Sir”, like I do. I crave this dominance, the emotional connection, the release.  It’s such a big part of me. And it hurts that he doesn’t understand.

If I could make this go away, I would probably still walk through life feeling like there was something a tad bit off, but couldn’t quite put my finger on it, so I would let it go. But to know what I want, how I feel, and long for, so much I can taste it, and not have a fully reciprocating partner, is worse.  It’s humiliating.  It’s depressing. It hurts.

Which brings me back to my first point.

Why do I feel this way?

What the heck is wrong with me?

How do we combine my need for the HOH / DD lifestyle with my obvious positive emotional feelings towards each session?

I have seen the proverbial line.  The real DD’ers submit; they don’t enjoy their spankings, and they sure as heck don’t manipulate their HOH’s into spanking them. 

So where does that put us? Are we even doing DD? Am I asking for something else?

D/S, BDSM?

Where does my freakishly square peg fit?

Where is the proverbial line?

Does there even have to be a line?

Does it make me less of a DD’er if I admit that I have a little kink in me? (Little, obviously being an understatement)

Where does someone like me fit in?

Hopefully, after a little chatting with my good friends, I will have a better handle on some of this.

But for now, I really am happy to be in a DD relationship with my hubby. But I’m also embarrassed and sad that I don’t seem to fit the normal DD bill.  I am still longing for that next spanking, and am also humiliated by this desire.

So, what’s next?

Am I a freak or not?

 lost in thought. Gazing into the world. Amazed how He keeps her safe. Even when He is not here. His touch so firm,sensual at times. her heart races. her skin against the cool concrete floods her mind. her breath is lost. her nipples ache, breasts full. Pushing against the concrete,she can feel Him. her knees get weak. she is lost in desire.  she is far away. she feels Him take her. His scent. His whispers. The cool morning air against her heated flesh. she has chills. she is frozen in time. her thoughts have brought her to the edge.

How did that happen? How did I go from noooo get me out of here, to instigating a blow job? Well, I swallowed my pride, among other things.

I decided that it was time to learn how to please Him in a way that meant he didn’t have to do anything! I wanted to surprise him, only I still had no idea how this was supposed to work. I mean, I know the gist of it. Suck this bit, massage that bit, and pray to god he does not cum… But my embarrassment at being watched, and not being perfect kept getting in the way. My pride in perfection was getting in the way.

So, I turned to google. Young people have NO idea how fortunate they are to have such a vast array of knowledge at their fingertips! Google is amazing, and I am ashamed to admit it had never occurred to me before to just google how to do this.
So, after reading a few things, I soon decided it was all too complex!!! There are hand movements called “the twist”, “tame the tiger” and a variety of hand/tongue flourishes to add.

It’s about now I began to wonder if I was trying to please my Husband, or coax the venom out of some grotesque snake/lion/bird hybrid!

Long story short, I eventually settled on a pretty simple method. Licking the length of the shaft (how did I not know this was a sensitive spot?!), suck on the end and use my hand cupped near my mouth to seemingly increase the depth of my mouth.

I am happy to say, that He did not mind being interrupted from work to help me practise this skill! I admit, I was embarrassed and incredibly grateful He closed his eyes rather than watch me!
I am glad I did it though, as I did feel a new sense of pride and achievement. He was so happy and relaxed, that he tried to finish work and fell asleep in his chair. I like to think I am just that good!

And, a sneak peak into a future post, I decided to work on reducing/removing the gag reflex… Lucky Him… I might need lots of practice!!