June 27, 2013
April 18, 2013
Sex Education
Or the lack thereof, really. Two articles today that piss me off, and you know how much they piss me off because I’m not just linking to the .com today.
First, we have a religious group funding a abstinence-only sex “education” speaker at a public school. The class vice-president protests and speaks out about the slut-shaming behavior and false information of the speaker, and her principal threatens her college career. Read about it Here.
Second, we have Ohio lawmakers trying to empower parents to sue public schools who appear to condone “gateway sexual activity.” And while they’re at it, they’re also seeking to reduce funding to comprehensive family planning centers and raise it for those that reject abortion. You can read about this Here.
And, because not everyone in the world is an idiot, here’s an awesome video from New Zealand:
January 17, 2013
July 27, 2012
March 8, 2012
Special Request
And a special, bonus post, by special request of him, just in case two posts isn’t enough to fulfill your craving this week.
The movie was over, they hadn’t really watched it, too distracted by each other, but they had to go now. They had to get back to her dorm for bed check before midnight. The all-girls, private prep school she attended had very strict rules about being out of bed past curfew. She was eighteen years old, but her parents were not quite ready to let her go to college out in the real world, yet. So they’d sent her here, where she’d met the man of her dreams, and broke every rule to see him.
Heading back to the school, they crossed through a wooded area before the wide open grounds. He grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and kissed her neck. She leaned back against him happily. They had a few minutes before they had to be back, she decided.
“You’re such a bad girl.” He breathed into her ear.
“Yes, sir.” She smiled at his mock stern tone.
“Wandering through the woods at this time of night. Good girls are all in bed. But you’re out with a man in the forest.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You know what we do with naughty girls, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir.” She shivered as his belt slid free.
He turned and put left foot up on a fallen tree and bent her over his knee. Pulling up her skirt, and down her panties, he exposed her bare ass. Stroking it with his folded belt, he put his hand on her back to hold her steady. Then brought the belt to bear.
She yelped, and he swung again. Her yelping soon turned to moans of pleasure as she writhed over his leg. He reddened her pale skin, with harder and harder strokes. Until she began to beg.
“Please, oh please, sir.”
“Please, what?”
“Please, I want you.”
“Oh?”
“Please, sir, please.”
He stopped and let her go, she dropped to her knees in front of him. Pulled his pants open the rest of the way and eagerly took him in her mouth. He gasped and entwined his fingers in her hair, guiding her eagerness. She moaned as he groaned, and when they were done, he pulled her to her feet, and held her tight.
After a moment to breathe, they were off again, racing towards the dorm, and up the fire escape to here room. Her roommate was in the infirmary for the night, so they had it all to themselves. She shooed him under the bed until bed check came through a few minutes later, and then pulled him back up. Collapsing on the bed, he pulled her close.
“Such a bad girl, pulling a man’s pants down out in the open like that.”
“Yes, sir.” She expected him to be sleepy, but he seemed far from it.
“And now, you’ve snuck him into your bedroom, into a girls only dorm.”
“Yes, sir.”
He sat up and pulled her over his lap, keeping her skirt down to muffle the noise, he took his hand to her this time. Spanking the already tender flesh. She buried her face in the blankets to cover her moans. She squirmed against his lap, but he held her tight, spanking her tender bottom until her moans got so loud, the blankets could not stop them.
“Please, sir, oh gods, please sir.”
“Yes?”
“Please, take me, sir.”
He gave her a few more swats that nearly made her scream before flipping her around and back onto the bed, shedding his clothes and then pulling her free of hers. He joined her back in bed and covered her mouth with his to keep her moans of pleasure from waking her dorm mates while he rode her to exhaustion.
The alarm went off early the next morning and she shooed him under the bed again for morning check. Then she got ready and went down to breakfast. He snuck out the window while everyone was eating and she spent the rest of the day in a happy haze. Until the end of her last class, when the teacher stopped her.
“Headmaster wants to see you. Come with me.”
He led her towards the dorm, however and up to her room, where she saw the headmaster waiting. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and she dreaded what was to come. He must have been seen leaving.
“Come in. Tell me, is anything amiss?”
“No, headmaster.”
“Is anything missing? Anything at all?”
“No, headmaster.” She knew better than to lie. If she said yes, her boyfriend would be arrested for theft.
“Strange. A man was seen climbing out of this window this morning, during breakfast. We assumed he was a thief. Are you sure that nothing is missing?”
“Yes, headmaster.”
“Did you know the man who left here this morning?”
“Yes, headmaster.”
“I see. And did you know he was in your room?”
“Yes, headmaster.”
“Would you mind telling me what he was doing here?”
“Yes, headmaster.” She blushed furiously and glanced at the teacher in the doorway.
“Thank you, that will be all.” The headmaster dismissed the teacher and closed the door before turning back to her. “What was he doing here?”
She stared at his shoes, too embarrassed to answer.
“We could continue this conversation in my office, with a cane, if you would prefer?”
“No, headmaster. I.. I invited him up, headmaster. We had a date last night and I brought him back here.”
“I see. Tell me about it.”
“We… we went to the movies, and then we came back here to sleep.”
“Is that all? You saw a movie and you slept?”
“No, headmaster.”
“Tell me.”
“We… um… on the way back, he put me over his knee and spanked me with his belt and I went down on him. After bed check, he spanked me again, with his hand, and then we had sex before we went to sleep.”
“I see. You like that do you?”
“Yes, headmaster.” She was mortified, but lying would only make things worse.
“But you chose to continue the conversation here and not in my office with the cane?”
“Yes, sir. I don’t really like canes, sir.”
“I see. Well, let’s see how he did, then. Turn around and show me your bottom.”
What could she do, she turned around, bent over and lifted her skirt and pulled down her panties.
“It’s barely red at all. He must not have tried very hard.” The headmaster patted her bare ass. “I’ll have to see what I can do about that. Don’t you think?”
“Yes, headmaster.”
“By rights, you should be expelled and a letter sent home to your parents.”
“Yes, headmaster.”
“But that won’t do anyone any good, so how about this. You’ll march down to my office with me, and I’ll redden that ass of yours properly, you can even thank me for it, like you did him in the woods. And once I’m satisfied, we’ll forget this ever happened. Is that alright with you?”
“Yes, headmaster.”
“Go on then.” He pulled her up and opened the door, motioning her to go ahead of him.
She walked down the hallways, her face bright red and her eyes on the floor. Those she passed knew she had been caught out, but very few of them knew what for. When they got to his office she went inside. He followed and locked the door behind him. Walking to his desk, he pulled off his belt and put it on the left side, then pulled out a paddle and put it in the middle and then a cane on the right hand side.
“You’ve been a very naughty girl.” He told her and sat down, motioning her over. “Take off that skirt, it will only be in the way, and the panties.”
She did as he instructed and then he pulled her over his lap. He started with his bare hand, spanking her equally bare ass.
“This is for sneaking out last night.”
He started out soft and built up, harder and harder. Gauging her moans and squeals, occasionally checking to see how wet she was. She squirmed on his lap, embarrassed but increasingly aroused. He spanked her harder and harder until she was gasping and screaming for him.
“Please, headmaster, please!”
“Please, what?”
“Please, stop and let me thank you.” She begged, remembering his words.
He gave her a few more swats and then let her up. She dropped to her knees under his desk and fumbled his pants open. His erection was waiting. She took him eagerly, and he let her, fingers in her hair, but stopped her short of finishing him off and pulled her roughly back over his lap.
He picked up the belt next, but paused, giving them both a few moments to breathe.
“This is for having oral sex in the school forest.”
He swatted her ass with the belt, pulling a gasp, and then another. He beat her already red ass into a deeper shade of crimson. She moaned and writhed harder against him, but he held her tight. His strokes slower than the first spanking. Enjoying the fullness of her reaction. When he had her screaming again and begging, he let her up a second time. And she sunk to the floor, moaning against his cock as she sucked on him.
He only gave her a few minutes this time before pulling her back up and picking up the paddle.
“This is for sneaking a boy into the dorm.”
He struck hard and firm, leaving it against her ass as she cried out. He smiled down at her. Loving the sound of the paddle the most. He struck again, and again. She arched and cried and tried to get away. Her ass sore and bruised already. He counted down from ten, and she screamed with each one. Then he dragged her to her feet and bent her over the desk, picking up the cane.
“And this is for having sex in your dorm room.”
He took the cane to the back of her thighs and her highly abused ass. Counting down from twenty, he held her in place by her hair. Giving her time to process each strike. Screaming into the desk and stamping her feet. She cried as she dug her fingers into the wooden edge.
When he was done, he pulled her back down to the floor beneath his desk and she took him a third time, this time to completion. And then collapsed into a puddle on the floor. He redid his pants, put away his tools and let her come back to herself before sending her back to her room.
“Next time you want a spanking, just ask.” He said as he opened the door and sent her on her way.
September 22, 2011
Broken Not Fragile
One of the first times I answered “the heath question” before playing with someone, that’s what I said. I’m not fragile, but I am broken. I have RA, so I have fussy joints. Hubby has a badly injured back. He has had surgery twice in the last two years. Toy has a myriad of problems, treatable and mysterious. And we all get injured, ill or just plain exhausted. So, what then? What do you do when your play partner, your loved one, is not feeling up to snuff?
He once asked me if I could be happy not being suspended by him for a whole year (at the time he was suspending me three nights a week), and suggested that such could be the case some day due to health. Now, I have not gone a full year between suspensions, but often it is months. And yes, I’m still quite happy with him. It isn’t about what we do together, but more about being together.
There is a lot of service in my submission to him, so taking care of him when he’s not feeling well comes naturally. I’m not really the maternal type, but fetching food, giving massages, just sitting and stroking his hair, all feel good to me. Hubby and I are making time to take care of each other more now, too. We plan out our date nights, but sometimes, one or both of us is feeling rough, and we just take care of one another in the same way.
Toy has a unique way of taking care of the sick. She likes to be the Get-Well Fairy and goes to the store and drops of little bags of whatever is needed or wanted. She likes to help people out, and even remembers to let us help her when she’s ill, too. She does ask for help when she really needs it, but sometimes we have to push past her reflexive “I got this, guys.”
So, this is all good and nice and happy. What about the parts I don’t do so well? This is two-fold for me. One, I don’t take care of myself. Two, I over-protect those I love. So, let’s take these in backwards order because the one leads into the other.
Over-protectiveness. If someone is not quite up to their full health, or feeling tired or sore, I assume the role of care taker. Which isn’t a bad thing, but it also means I don’t ask them for anything I might want. I feel that their health is more important and it would be selfish to ask for anything. This happens a lot on Wednesdays. If he comes in late from work and looking worn out or complaining of headache or pain, I won’t ask to play, even if it has been on my mind all day. I don’t want to push him if he’s not up to it, I don’t want him to feel bad for saying no, or make himself feel worse by saying yes. I’m taking away his ability to make that decision for himself by not asking. Bad me. There’s a bit more baggage around that one than just health issues, but that’s not today’s topic.
So, that also leads into not taking care of myself. Just because the desire mentioned above is a want instead of a need (I hesitate to call anything defined as play or sex a need), doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have it. Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t ask for it. I don’t often ask for things I want, because, I tell myself, I don’t really Need them. I put those I care about first, my assumed responsibilities second, and myself third. It’s why I stopped Tai Chi and Yoga, it’s one of the reasons why I can’t get back into kneeling regularly. Those things all came to be “about me.” I’m doing them for myself, so they aren’t as important as the things I’m doing for others.* The only thing that over-rules that is exhaustion. I do veg on the couch when I’m too tired to do anything else, until I fall asleep. With taking on a second job recently, exhaustion is winning out more, and the second job is taking all the time usually reserved for “my things.” Only illness and injury slowed me down this week and did not provide for productive “me time,” and I took extra shifts to make up the missed days. So much to do, it’s hard to find the proper balance.
*As I reread this, I decided some extra discussion was, perhaps needed, to define how this ritual came to be “about me.” Roughly a year and a half ago, he asked me to kneel for him, to get up to thirty minutes a day and to reflect on our relationship during this time. Tai Chi and Yoga became part of this ritual to take care of myself, to be healthy for him. I wrote a post about this just a few weeks ago, about what I could do to reclaim this habit. However, the changes in our relationship, and the problems I had with the kneeling, and my efforts to overcome them, have cast this ritual in a different light. Yes, once upon a time, he asked me to do it. But it no longer feels like a part of our exchange. It is something I do to center myself, or to take care of myself. Not something I do for him. And so, when I fail to do it, it’s just one more thing I don’t do for myself because I don’t have or make the time after everything else I put first.
July 21, 2011
July 14, 2011
June 10, 2011
February 3, 2011
New Toy, Rushing River and Solid Bridge
My mind is full and swirling this week. I thought I had about five different topics to write about, but in just a few seconds of brainstorming on the page, I came up with ten. Discussions this week have ranged from masturbation and orgasm, to STDs, to interrogation, to labels, to song and dance, to cathartic release and pleasure from pain. A new relationship is being established and others are struggling to survive. There’s a big event this weekend, but I won’t be there, I regret missing the classes, but the play parties never really were my thing. So, let’s take some of those topics and look a little deeper.
What do you want to do with our toy? He’s been asking me that for a couple weeks now, since we established she wanted to be our toy. I talk about teaching her, or helping her, or getting her to buy cute clothes. But what do I want to Do with her? I don’t know, I’ve never had a toy before. Fair to say she’s never been a toy before either. But we’re all very curious and excited about the possibilities.
I see myself in her, just starting her journey into kink. I remember when, to me, kinky was a pair of handcuffs, a set of nipple clamps and a spanking during sex. I remember coming into this community and meeting him and lover and having the doors thrust wide open before me. I remember barreling through, glad they were the ones holding my hands. There was so much to learn and do and experience, and now we have a new toy, just starting her journey and I’m excited to be the one holding her hand.
One of our conversations this week was on labels, if she wanted to take a public label, and she decided not yet. She decided that it was something she wanted to keep personal for now. Those who needed to know, would know, but it didn’t need to be declared to the world at large. This got me thinking for myself, too.
He and I are rebuilding things, and have left off kink labels, as well. I have had varying degrees of comfort and discomfort with this. I felt like I had lost something, lost something very important to us. I tried on a label for a couple weeks, but it didn’t fit well and I couldn’t explain why I wanted to wear it. I realized at the end of that attempt, that trying to label something that was still being created was just going to add to the confusion, and I stopped.
Yesterday, I was visualizing myself standing in the middle of a rushing river, I had a hand stretched out to the cliffs on either side. One cliff labeled Girlfriend, the other labeled Submissive. But back in August, the Submissive cliff broke off in my hand, and I was left floundering, with only Girlfriend to cling to. I eventually got back to my feet, with the solid help of the Girlfriend cliff, but then I started trying to shove the broken piece back into the cliff, trying to find a place where it would fit.
I realized, that I really just needed to get out of the river, stop fighting the current, there was no need. I could easily and happily sit on the Girlfriend bank, on the solid ground of our relationship. I’d like the submissive bank to be part of our life, but building a bridge to it with him is a much more secure way to get there, than standing in the rushing water, fighting to stay upright.