Apologies, my people. Many, many apologies. Such a long lapse is definitely without excuse and I can only apologize. I know that there needs to be some kind of punishment from my Master at some point, though the exact time and nature and such is yet to be set forth, but for you, the readers of my Master’s blog, I can only apologize, apologize, apologize.
Would that I had some excellent reason to give you for all this time being too quiet. An unpleasant illness or a family issue or losing the feeling in all of my fingers for close to a month. Sadly the closest thing to a reason I can state is that life has been just too busy. Too busy because Master and I have had lots in our lives of late and the lack of time for real play has lead to a lack of serious inspiration on my part. What’s more, in the next many days there will only be less time, not more, so inspiration will be even more difficult to find.
No inspiration, but Master was very clear that I was to return to my duties here, and so I found myself at a loss. I needed to find something to share with you all, but I was mostly aware of how much I need to do now and for the next week+. Preparation to make everything wonderful. Ideal. Utterly and Completely Perfect, and this needs to happen by Thursday June 3rd, because that is the day my Master returns.
Those of you who share my subby side understand the level of pressure when getting ready for your Master’s arrival, especially those of us who live so far from our owners and only get to be with them occasionally. You understand why it was that the spectre of all I want to get done loomed so large in my vision that I couldn’t see anything else around it. I could only see all that I wanted to be ready for him. How much I wanted to make myself ready for him. So much to prepare; so much to make good enough.
I’ve prepared our home for him. Corralled all traces of my two cats so that they don’t bother his allergies. Stocked my kitchen with his favorite foods. Made my bed into our bed once more, with manly coverings and firm and comfortable good things so when he folds me up into the positions that please him he’ll feel at home. Cleaned my patio so that it is ready for when he decides to fuck me out there, forcing me to hold my screams in for fear of neighbors hearing me serve him.
I’ve prepared the outfit I plan to wear to greet him when he arrives after such a long flight. It seems only appropriate that I meet him at the airport dressed in such a way as to show I know my place immediately, and though I don’t want to give away the surprise, I am confident he will appreciate my… creativity. I also plan to clean out the car so that it’s ready should he not want to wait until we get home to show his approval. Or his disapproval. Whatever amuses him.
Finally, how do I prepare myself for him? I’ve cut my hair and painted my nails and will wax my cunt smooth right before he arrives. I’ve stayed fit so that I can satisfy his every demand of me for as long as he would want it. But as the final week rolls along I wonder if I should do more. Should I go back to stretching out my ass so that it’s ready for any time he could want to fuck me there? Should I be fucking my cunt with my dildo regularly so it’s ready for constant use? What should I be doing to be very sure he never regrets his long trip to take his ownership once again?
If any of you, my all too faithful readers, have any suggestions for what I should do to prepare, or for things Master might want to do to or with me when he’s here, we’d love to hear them. We truly would.
Showing posts with label Training. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Training. Show all posts
Wednesday, 26 May 2010
Monday, 22 March 2010
The "There" Down There, and related questions...
Oh Senor Dom, so many questions!
I considered answering all of F.D.’s questions in a big pile, but there’s so much to work with here! Seems a pity to waste, so I’m breaking it into a few chunks. We’ll call the first chunk:
The “There” Down There…
Florida Dom asked these juicy little tidbits:
If the questions had come a few weeks ago I would have been able to honestly answer that I am naked every day after I get home. As you already know I purchased a pair of slut pumps. Since that post I’ve been wearing these pumps every day when I get home from work, especially as I’ve been with Master on Skype. I guess it’s fairly symbolic, but I enjoy the feeling of having a special uniform I wear for my Master to reinforce my position. After a few days of just wearing the shoes I took my own suggestion to heart and began removing all my clothing when I added the pumps. Every afternoon, for a few hours, I would sit or lie here on this couch, my ears full of Master’s voice, my body adorned by my slut pumps and nothing else.
Sadly things in this place got chilly and I got lazy. The last couple of weeks I’ve been good about the pumps (mostly) but haven’t been stripping down the way I should. But F.D.’s question has me wanting to be better and I’m going to go back to stripping to talk to him. Beyond time with Master on Skype I also sleep naked, save my beloved everyday ankle collar, every single night. It helps me for those nights/mornings when Master calls to wake me up and, if I’ve been VERY good, play with me.
There is a post coming going into much more details about my ass and the plugging of same. I will tell you now that I sleep with my ass plugged a fair number of nights. Sometimes because Master has specifically ordered me to do so, and sometimes just because I crave the feeling of improving myself for him.
Right now I have just the single piercing “down there”. I don’t know that there will be any others – this is really more of a question for my Master. (you might woo him to answer for himself if you specifically ask him for it? Hint? Hint, hint?) We have chatted a little here and there about adding nipple piercings, and I’d be lying if I said the idea of being further modified for his enjoyment didn’t excite me. However Master hasn’t had the chance to play with his first piercing as much as he’d like just yet and feels it would be “greedy” to send me for new piercings before he gets to really enjoy what I already got. Stay tuned for further adventures on this one!
And then the question about posting a photo of the piercing that I have. Oh, that question. It is one that has often been discussed. Master and I honestly did discuss his taking just such a picture when last he was here with the goal of posting it. We didn’t take the picture, and it’s not an easy one to take on your own. But here’s the thing you really want to know: Would I post a photo of my cunt here on the internet for all to see?
Yes.
And will I do that if Master approves and if he can help me to take that picture when he’s back here in June?
Yes.
My sparkly little cunt with it’s little silver ball and it’s flashy purple jewel. It’s spicy and it’s shiny and it makes me feel more sexy than anything other than Master has in months. The idea of showing it to all of you is all that times 100.
Thanks to Florida Dom for his questions – up next:
I considered answering all of F.D.’s questions in a big pile, but there’s so much to work with here! Seems a pity to waste, so I’m breaking it into a few chunks. We’ll call the first chunk:
The “There” Down There…
Florida Dom asked these juicy little tidbits:
“You tweeted that you like to clean the house in collar, slut pumps and ass
plugged and nothing else.
How often are you naked in the house? How
often do you have butt plug in your ass? Do you have just one piercing down
there and are you considering more? Will you ever consider posting photos of
your piercing?”
If the questions had come a few weeks ago I would have been able to honestly answer that I am naked every day after I get home. As you already know I purchased a pair of slut pumps. Since that post I’ve been wearing these pumps every day when I get home from work, especially as I’ve been with Master on Skype. I guess it’s fairly symbolic, but I enjoy the feeling of having a special uniform I wear for my Master to reinforce my position. After a few days of just wearing the shoes I took my own suggestion to heart and began removing all my clothing when I added the pumps. Every afternoon, for a few hours, I would sit or lie here on this couch, my ears full of Master’s voice, my body adorned by my slut pumps and nothing else.
Sadly things in this place got chilly and I got lazy. The last couple of weeks I’ve been good about the pumps (mostly) but haven’t been stripping down the way I should. But F.D.’s question has me wanting to be better and I’m going to go back to stripping to talk to him. Beyond time with Master on Skype I also sleep naked, save my beloved everyday ankle collar, every single night. It helps me for those nights/mornings when Master calls to wake me up and, if I’ve been VERY good, play with me.
There is a post coming going into much more details about my ass and the plugging of same. I will tell you now that I sleep with my ass plugged a fair number of nights. Sometimes because Master has specifically ordered me to do so, and sometimes just because I crave the feeling of improving myself for him.
Right now I have just the single piercing “down there”. I don’t know that there will be any others – this is really more of a question for my Master. (you might woo him to answer for himself if you specifically ask him for it? Hint? Hint, hint?) We have chatted a little here and there about adding nipple piercings, and I’d be lying if I said the idea of being further modified for his enjoyment didn’t excite me. However Master hasn’t had the chance to play with his first piercing as much as he’d like just yet and feels it would be “greedy” to send me for new piercings before he gets to really enjoy what I already got. Stay tuned for further adventures on this one!
And then the question about posting a photo of the piercing that I have. Oh, that question. It is one that has often been discussed. Master and I honestly did discuss his taking just such a picture when last he was here with the goal of posting it. We didn’t take the picture, and it’s not an easy one to take on your own. But here’s the thing you really want to know: Would I post a photo of my cunt here on the internet for all to see?
Yes.
And will I do that if Master approves and if he can help me to take that picture when he’s back here in June?
Yes.
My sparkly little cunt with it’s little silver ball and it’s flashy purple jewel. It’s spicy and it’s shiny and it makes me feel more sexy than anything other than Master has in months. The idea of showing it to all of you is all that times 100.
Thanks to Florida Dom for his questions – up next:
The History of my Slavery...
Tuesday, 16 March 2010
To Pierce or Not to Pierce, (that was her question…)
Many thanks to Pickypaws, the first person to reward my shameless request for attention with questioness! She asked a few questions about my piercing, and I’m sure that others have similar questions so I really do appreciate her putting it out there.
First, and most importantly: did it hurt? This was the question I asked the lady who was preparing to pierce me initially. I was lying on the table, feet tucked onto the tiny edge, trying to be brave and cool and stoic, and mostly trying to SHUT THE FUCK UP because I babble when I’m nervous. Just ask both of the people who have tattooed me. For that matter ask my Master – he’s made me nervous for verbal blathering plenty of times and I know he enjoys it when he can see how nervous he’s making me.
But I digress. (see how I do that?)
In mid-babble I asked her to be honest with me – how badly was this going to hurt? She said that she gets this question all the time, and that after years of trying every answer in the end honesty is best. She then looked me square in the eye and told me that it was going to be one of the most painful things I’d ever experience in my life!
For about a second.
But then it wouldn’t hurt at all. And that’s exactly what I found. For the second that the needle pierced the skin it was so painful I could not believe it. Much worse than stubbing your pinky toe or biting your lip or a bikini wax – yes, even the full monty wax – but for just the time it took to actually make the hole. The second she was done poking me it was done hurting. Since then the only discomfort I’ve had is the one or two times when I’ve been a wee bit too rough on that area, and I’m sure it would smart down there with or without my fancy bling.
Once the painful part was over I must admit the piercing itself was a breeze. Not too hard to take care of – the place that I got the piercing is an extremely well respected shop and they give you excellent guidance on how to care for your piercing. It normally takes a couple of weeks to get to a “healed” place but mine seemed good to go in only about 5 days. I had the bar downsized in 2 weeks and now I just get to buy new and wonderful pretty things to wear down there! Just be sure you get a barbell with the threads INTERNAL, not external. Trust me, you do NOT want to be pushing some threaded piece of metal through sensitive skin parts…
The last question that the brave and beautiful (I just have a hunch) Pickypaws asked was about whether I remove my bling when I go to the gyno. I haven’t been since I got the piercing, but I think really the question she’s asking is this: does it embarrass you when the vanilla world sees it? To that I can say NO. I haven’t shared it with any of my friends or family, but really we spend very little time chatting about my naughty bits. But I leave it there when I get waxed and when I DO go to the doctor, whether normal doctor or naughty-bits doctor, I’ll be leaving it in then too. As far as I’m concerned if they’re not embarrassed to stick their face into my areas they certainly shouldn’t be embarrassed if it twinkles back at them!
My best friend is having a pool party for her big birthday this summer, and I realized the other day that this could be a place it would be difficult to keep my bejeweled vejayjay a secret, as I’ll be changing either into or out of a bathing suit in the changing rooms there. I mentioned this to my Master and it was no surprise to me to hear him tell me he quite liked the idea of my friends seeing my fancy fuckhole. (my words, not his, but the gist is the same). We shall see how that goes once July arrives.
Pickypaws, I understand the temptation of the nipple piercing completely. That was the original suggestion that Master made only a few weeks into his having claimed me and though I originally balked at the idea I admit now I find myself thinking about it regularly. I’m more of a fan of the barbells through the nipple than of the rings (and they seem easier to hide in your vanilla life) but just the idea of being pierced in multiple places to show my ownership is an incredible rush. If you decide to do so, and if your owner gives you permission, please do write back and let me know! Maybe you can be the thing that pushes me to finally ask permission too!
If anyone else has any questions please be sure to let me know. This is kind of fun!!!
First, and most importantly: did it hurt? This was the question I asked the lady who was preparing to pierce me initially. I was lying on the table, feet tucked onto the tiny edge, trying to be brave and cool and stoic, and mostly trying to SHUT THE FUCK UP because I babble when I’m nervous. Just ask both of the people who have tattooed me. For that matter ask my Master – he’s made me nervous for verbal blathering plenty of times and I know he enjoys it when he can see how nervous he’s making me.
But I digress. (see how I do that?)
In mid-babble I asked her to be honest with me – how badly was this going to hurt? She said that she gets this question all the time, and that after years of trying every answer in the end honesty is best. She then looked me square in the eye and told me that it was going to be one of the most painful things I’d ever experience in my life!
For about a second.
But then it wouldn’t hurt at all. And that’s exactly what I found. For the second that the needle pierced the skin it was so painful I could not believe it. Much worse than stubbing your pinky toe or biting your lip or a bikini wax – yes, even the full monty wax – but for just the time it took to actually make the hole. The second she was done poking me it was done hurting. Since then the only discomfort I’ve had is the one or two times when I’ve been a wee bit too rough on that area, and I’m sure it would smart down there with or without my fancy bling.
Once the painful part was over I must admit the piercing itself was a breeze. Not too hard to take care of – the place that I got the piercing is an extremely well respected shop and they give you excellent guidance on how to care for your piercing. It normally takes a couple of weeks to get to a “healed” place but mine seemed good to go in only about 5 days. I had the bar downsized in 2 weeks and now I just get to buy new and wonderful pretty things to wear down there! Just be sure you get a barbell with the threads INTERNAL, not external. Trust me, you do NOT want to be pushing some threaded piece of metal through sensitive skin parts…
The last question that the brave and beautiful (I just have a hunch) Pickypaws asked was about whether I remove my bling when I go to the gyno. I haven’t been since I got the piercing, but I think really the question she’s asking is this: does it embarrass you when the vanilla world sees it? To that I can say NO. I haven’t shared it with any of my friends or family, but really we spend very little time chatting about my naughty bits. But I leave it there when I get waxed and when I DO go to the doctor, whether normal doctor or naughty-bits doctor, I’ll be leaving it in then too. As far as I’m concerned if they’re not embarrassed to stick their face into my areas they certainly shouldn’t be embarrassed if it twinkles back at them!
My best friend is having a pool party for her big birthday this summer, and I realized the other day that this could be a place it would be difficult to keep my bejeweled vejayjay a secret, as I’ll be changing either into or out of a bathing suit in the changing rooms there. I mentioned this to my Master and it was no surprise to me to hear him tell me he quite liked the idea of my friends seeing my fancy fuckhole. (my words, not his, but the gist is the same). We shall see how that goes once July arrives.
Pickypaws, I understand the temptation of the nipple piercing completely. That was the original suggestion that Master made only a few weeks into his having claimed me and though I originally balked at the idea I admit now I find myself thinking about it regularly. I’m more of a fan of the barbells through the nipple than of the rings (and they seem easier to hide in your vanilla life) but just the idea of being pierced in multiple places to show my ownership is an incredible rush. If you decide to do so, and if your owner gives you permission, please do write back and let me know! Maybe you can be the thing that pushes me to finally ask permission too!
If anyone else has any questions please be sure to let me know. This is kind of fun!!!
Wednesday, 3 March 2010
The Little Things
There are many grand, magnificent, overwhelming things that Master can or could do to show my place; to make me feel owned and controlled. When he morphs the way I look or feel or think; when he makes me cum on his command. I love the big things, and in fact the bigger the better is how I tend to think automatically. When I indulge in fantasies of time with him they are epic and fictional and go places that I could never really go; places he would never take me. Bigger. Better. Epic.
But sometimes I am reminded that there are little things that can be every bit as profound and significant.
Take today: through a random series of events I found myself stepping into my pair of slut heels. These are black, shiny pumps with 4-inch heels and peep toes. I bought these pumps so that I could meet my Master appropriately dressed when he arrived at the holidays. Never in my life have I ever owned or even worn shoes such as these and I’m embarrassed to report that when I strode down the halls of our airport scanning for a face I adored I worried that my teetering would be sad and lame to him. I cannot stride proudly in these shoes. I clomp and I weave and I pitch forward sloppily. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care (hopefully the low-cut top and tight skirt was the distraction I was going for) but I did, and I swore I would master these slut heels before June and his return.
But to today and when I stepped into these heels. I did not put them on to pursue this goal. I needed relief for aching calf muscles and thought these might do that, and they did. But even after the original need was finished I found that wearing them was providing a different practice: these shoes make me feel like Master’s slut. They make me aware of my every move. They make me feel ornate and foolish and humbled. I cleaned the kitchen and did laundry and cleaned the toilet in these foolish, ridiculous, slutty damned shoes.
And my pussy never stopped weeping.
When I told Master that I was sporting the heels I purchased just for him I heard amusement in his voice. As I finished my wandering around and settled down to share time with him I asked if I should take them off or leave them on; he instructed that they remain. I imagined that he liked the idea of me stretched out on the couch, slut shoes on my feet and his voice in my ear. And though we didn’t really indulge in playing, instead just sharing company, The feel and the view of these shoes at the end of my legs kept me constantly aware of my place and my role for him. Renewed in me my wanton desire to be his toy and his puppet and his Barbie, for him to dress in whatever way pleases him.
Before he went to sleep we discussed a new rule going forward: When I come home from work, before he and I jump onto Skype, I am to put on my slut heels. This has practical value, as its this constant wearing that will make me able to stride down the airport halls confidently when I go to greet Master this summer. But more than that I shudder at the idea that each night I have a uniform to put on to remind me of my place at Master’s feet. Perhaps the rule should be modified: that I would put on my slut heels and remove all else.
But sometimes I am reminded that there are little things that can be every bit as profound and significant.
Take today: through a random series of events I found myself stepping into my pair of slut heels. These are black, shiny pumps with 4-inch heels and peep toes. I bought these pumps so that I could meet my Master appropriately dressed when he arrived at the holidays. Never in my life have I ever owned or even worn shoes such as these and I’m embarrassed to report that when I strode down the halls of our airport scanning for a face I adored I worried that my teetering would be sad and lame to him. I cannot stride proudly in these shoes. I clomp and I weave and I pitch forward sloppily. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care (hopefully the low-cut top and tight skirt was the distraction I was going for) but I did, and I swore I would master these slut heels before June and his return.
But to today and when I stepped into these heels. I did not put them on to pursue this goal. I needed relief for aching calf muscles and thought these might do that, and they did. But even after the original need was finished I found that wearing them was providing a different practice: these shoes make me feel like Master’s slut. They make me aware of my every move. They make me feel ornate and foolish and humbled. I cleaned the kitchen and did laundry and cleaned the toilet in these foolish, ridiculous, slutty damned shoes.
And my pussy never stopped weeping.
When I told Master that I was sporting the heels I purchased just for him I heard amusement in his voice. As I finished my wandering around and settled down to share time with him I asked if I should take them off or leave them on; he instructed that they remain. I imagined that he liked the idea of me stretched out on the couch, slut shoes on my feet and his voice in my ear. And though we didn’t really indulge in playing, instead just sharing company, The feel and the view of these shoes at the end of my legs kept me constantly aware of my place and my role for him. Renewed in me my wanton desire to be his toy and his puppet and his Barbie, for him to dress in whatever way pleases him.
Before he went to sleep we discussed a new rule going forward: When I come home from work, before he and I jump onto Skype, I am to put on my slut heels. This has practical value, as its this constant wearing that will make me able to stride down the airport halls confidently when I go to greet Master this summer. But more than that I shudder at the idea that each night I have a uniform to put on to remind me of my place at Master’s feet. Perhaps the rule should be modified: that I would put on my slut heels and remove all else.
Thursday, 11 February 2010
Good Girl
Two small words that have come to mean the world to me. They fill me with elation and send a shiver down my spine; it’s all I can do to keep from purring when I hear him praise me with these two, small words: Good Girl.
The first time Master used it on me, barely weeks into his claiming of me, I rankled at the term. “I’m not a girl” I explained, “and it sounds so condescending. Like you’re patting me on the head.” I could feel his amusement at my reaction, and looking back on it now I am sure this is another moment where he already knew what was to come, but decided to let me have my little moment of independence. He knew that soon enough I’d abandon independence willingly and entirely.
As such, Master let the term go for a while, but was wise and strategic enough to bring it back into play later. When he did he chose just the right time, linking for me the phrase with a feeling of pleasing him. Of being a good slave, and of stroking my head or patting my ass or otherwise making me feel like a quality pet or possession. In no time my rejection of the term became a deep desire to earn the words whenever I can. I sought out those little actions that I knew would let me stroke my ego and my need for proper obedience all at once.
Not long after that the phrase “bad girl” popped up. To my amazement those words brought me angst and despair and even a sense of almost panic. My reaction was so significant that Master has purposefully avoided using the phrase ever since, and the few times its popped out he’s corrected himself and soothed me immediately. In the same way that “good girl” fills me with joy and pride and peace, “bad girl” empties me of all good feelings, replacing them with a blackness that sometimes threatens to overwhelm me.
Amazingly the things that I didn’t like about “good girl” initially are now some of the very things that make me crave it. The feeling of his condescension. The idea that I’m a silly, little thing from which he can take pleasure when he likes; that I’m his toy or pet, who lives only to earn that tiny pat of approval from him. It still reduces me, as I told him the first time; the phrase never changed. The change was all in me. I now enjoy being reduced and simplified and redefined. I prefer the definition this gives me. I live to be his toy; his pet; his plaything, and to dance and beg and serve him to hear two small words. And to feel that shudder through me that means “I’ve fulfilled my purpose once more.” To be Master’s Good Girl.
The first time Master used it on me, barely weeks into his claiming of me, I rankled at the term. “I’m not a girl” I explained, “and it sounds so condescending. Like you’re patting me on the head.” I could feel his amusement at my reaction, and looking back on it now I am sure this is another moment where he already knew what was to come, but decided to let me have my little moment of independence. He knew that soon enough I’d abandon independence willingly and entirely.
As such, Master let the term go for a while, but was wise and strategic enough to bring it back into play later. When he did he chose just the right time, linking for me the phrase with a feeling of pleasing him. Of being a good slave, and of stroking my head or patting my ass or otherwise making me feel like a quality pet or possession. In no time my rejection of the term became a deep desire to earn the words whenever I can. I sought out those little actions that I knew would let me stroke my ego and my need for proper obedience all at once.
Not long after that the phrase “bad girl” popped up. To my amazement those words brought me angst and despair and even a sense of almost panic. My reaction was so significant that Master has purposefully avoided using the phrase ever since, and the few times its popped out he’s corrected himself and soothed me immediately. In the same way that “good girl” fills me with joy and pride and peace, “bad girl” empties me of all good feelings, replacing them with a blackness that sometimes threatens to overwhelm me.
Amazingly the things that I didn’t like about “good girl” initially are now some of the very things that make me crave it. The feeling of his condescension. The idea that I’m a silly, little thing from which he can take pleasure when he likes; that I’m his toy or pet, who lives only to earn that tiny pat of approval from him. It still reduces me, as I told him the first time; the phrase never changed. The change was all in me. I now enjoy being reduced and simplified and redefined. I prefer the definition this gives me. I live to be his toy; his pet; his plaything, and to dance and beg and serve him to hear two small words. And to feel that shudder through me that means “I’ve fulfilled my purpose once more.” To be Master’s Good Girl.
Friday, 11 December 2009
Pushing the Envelope
“Go get your plug.”
I was surprised by this, though I shouldn’t have been. As we sat together I’d begun to get sleepy and this was the perfect way to wake me up. But I’d never trained while with Master before and the idea of him hearing the odd little squeals I make each time the plugs make it past my defenses… Still, off I ran to get all the pieces. I’m a good girl, after all.
I was still using a two-step process to get up to fitting in the large plug, and so I slathered the middle-sized plug with lube and forced it into my rear. As always I felt excited and dirty with such pressure at my behind. The feeling was even stronger knowing Master was listening. I’d shared a fantasy with him from earlier in our conversation and I felt bold as I smiled and asked him… “Should I see if the big plug fits in the front?”
“Yes.”
I took hold of the ring at the base of the big plug and began to slide it up and down over my slit. This was how I always got myself wet before penetration, and this was as effective as ever. Within a minute or two the smooth, black plug was slick up to its widest point. I was ready. I grabbed the base solidly and pushed right at my cunt. And pushed, and pushed. The plug slid in slowly, but fought me both because the plug was very wide and because I was already very full from behind. I’d managed to push it in to the widest point, but not yet beyond.
I worked my way slowly, pushing the plug in until the resistance was too much, and then a little beyond that point before giving relief. I pulled back, slid up and down a little, and then pushed again, this time further. Over and over I repeated the system until finally the biggest black plug of them all fell the rest of the way into its home, swallowed completely into my cunt.
There I sat, plugged at both ends. I loved the fullness, and the idea of double-penetration, but mostly I loved that at this moment more than any other I was doing this for him. Not just to make my body better for his visit in a few short weeks, but because he’d commanded me to do it. Because right at that moment he was listening to my moans and gasps and sighs as both my ass and my cunt were filled for his pleasure.
I lie there, my entire body humming a little at the feelings. My cunt twitched around the intruder and a wicked idea occurred to me.
“Can I fuck myself with the plug in my cunt?” I all but whispered, embarrassed and excited at the idea.
“You may.” He replied, adding “but watch the volume. Some of us are trying to sleep.”
In and out, in and out went the plug. I found it felt wonderful moving inside me, but was so big at its’ apex that it was distracting to the intense pleasure I’d built otherwise. So after a few minutes I instead slid it back in all the way, and I began to go to work on my sensitive clit. I flicked and stroked and rubbed as I felt myself overflowing with Master’s control and Master’s improvements. The sensation was fabulous. It took only a few minutes for me to climax all over the plug, ripples rocking me to my feet.
Now it was time to make the transfer. I rolled onto my side, jutting my packed ass out behind me, and pulled out the rear plug. I then allowed my cunt to push out the large plug , seeing that it was coated in my excitement. I rolled it around in the abundant muck in my slit until I was very sure it was entirely lubed in it, and then I pointed it at my rear and pushed.
I love the fact that my ass both wants so badly to keep all intruders out, and also that in that moment that this biggest plug overcame my asses’ defenses and pushed all the way in my butt, my entire body shuddered with pleasure and submission. My ass loves the moment where it is made to give in as much as I do. And knowing that my butt was now filled by a plug lubed only with my own cum was a feeling more than I could handle. I gasped out loud, much louder than I’d planned, and once more I came with a rush.
I sat for an hour, reveling in the fullness and the complete feeling of ownership and obedience. My cunt hummed from its wonderful domination, and my ass twitched over and over. And my Master slept, the sleep of a man who knows he is in complete and total control of another. All was right for the world.
I was surprised by this, though I shouldn’t have been. As we sat together I’d begun to get sleepy and this was the perfect way to wake me up. But I’d never trained while with Master before and the idea of him hearing the odd little squeals I make each time the plugs make it past my defenses… Still, off I ran to get all the pieces. I’m a good girl, after all.
I was still using a two-step process to get up to fitting in the large plug, and so I slathered the middle-sized plug with lube and forced it into my rear. As always I felt excited and dirty with such pressure at my behind. The feeling was even stronger knowing Master was listening. I’d shared a fantasy with him from earlier in our conversation and I felt bold as I smiled and asked him… “Should I see if the big plug fits in the front?”
“Yes.”
I took hold of the ring at the base of the big plug and began to slide it up and down over my slit. This was how I always got myself wet before penetration, and this was as effective as ever. Within a minute or two the smooth, black plug was slick up to its widest point. I was ready. I grabbed the base solidly and pushed right at my cunt. And pushed, and pushed. The plug slid in slowly, but fought me both because the plug was very wide and because I was already very full from behind. I’d managed to push it in to the widest point, but not yet beyond.
I worked my way slowly, pushing the plug in until the resistance was too much, and then a little beyond that point before giving relief. I pulled back, slid up and down a little, and then pushed again, this time further. Over and over I repeated the system until finally the biggest black plug of them all fell the rest of the way into its home, swallowed completely into my cunt.
There I sat, plugged at both ends. I loved the fullness, and the idea of double-penetration, but mostly I loved that at this moment more than any other I was doing this for him. Not just to make my body better for his visit in a few short weeks, but because he’d commanded me to do it. Because right at that moment he was listening to my moans and gasps and sighs as both my ass and my cunt were filled for his pleasure.
I lie there, my entire body humming a little at the feelings. My cunt twitched around the intruder and a wicked idea occurred to me.
“Can I fuck myself with the plug in my cunt?” I all but whispered, embarrassed and excited at the idea.
“You may.” He replied, adding “but watch the volume. Some of us are trying to sleep.”
In and out, in and out went the plug. I found it felt wonderful moving inside me, but was so big at its’ apex that it was distracting to the intense pleasure I’d built otherwise. So after a few minutes I instead slid it back in all the way, and I began to go to work on my sensitive clit. I flicked and stroked and rubbed as I felt myself overflowing with Master’s control and Master’s improvements. The sensation was fabulous. It took only a few minutes for me to climax all over the plug, ripples rocking me to my feet.
Now it was time to make the transfer. I rolled onto my side, jutting my packed ass out behind me, and pulled out the rear plug. I then allowed my cunt to push out the large plug , seeing that it was coated in my excitement. I rolled it around in the abundant muck in my slit until I was very sure it was entirely lubed in it, and then I pointed it at my rear and pushed.
I love the fact that my ass both wants so badly to keep all intruders out, and also that in that moment that this biggest plug overcame my asses’ defenses and pushed all the way in my butt, my entire body shuddered with pleasure and submission. My ass loves the moment where it is made to give in as much as I do. And knowing that my butt was now filled by a plug lubed only with my own cum was a feeling more than I could handle. I gasped out loud, much louder than I’d planned, and once more I came with a rush.
I sat for an hour, reveling in the fullness and the complete feeling of ownership and obedience. My cunt hummed from its wonderful domination, and my ass twitched over and over. And my Master slept, the sleep of a man who knows he is in complete and total control of another. All was right for the world.
Tuesday, 8 December 2009
Finally a Tough Challenge
Several weeks with the smallest ass plug deep inside me every day. After the first week I slept with it in my ass every night. I loved that it was so easy, so comfortable. I loved that my body was so very willing, even eager, to take on this task.
After a few weeks I decided there had been no challenge to this (apart from my last post's day of BIG challenge!), and that if I was going to stretch and push and change myself to please my Master I would have to, need to, move on. And so I happily pressed the next larger plug into my ass.
But to my surprise and pride I took this size easily as well. A little more pressure to push past the defenses, but otherwise an easy task. In less than a week I slept all night long with this plug deep inside as well. After a couple of nights I had one morning where I felt my muscles stretched as I walked, but only a little, and only a while. In the same way that I beamed from my success I also worried that I wasn’t making any difference, and therefore was not truly changing myself for my Master. More than anything this is my goal with each minute of training – to improve myself. To better myself. To become what he deserves, and if my training is too easy doesn’t it mean nothing is happening?
Worried and frustrated I moved myself up to the third, and largest plug of my training kit. I lay down on my bed, the toy glistening with lube, and I pressed the tip into my rosebud and pushed.
And pushed.
And pushed. And pushed. And winced, and grimaced, and whimpered. Finally after a few minutes I pulled away, giving my ass the break it needed. Simply put, my rear had finally put its foot down and said “no.” No, it was not willing to stretch enough to accept this newest, largest intrusion.
This proved to me that all the work I’d done so far had, indeed, been stretching my muscles to better accept my toys. I was once again proud of the work that I’d done. But now I faced my first possible failure. I tried again, concentrating on deep breaths and relaxing my muscles and all the tricks of the ass-stretching trade. And again my ass told me, in no uncertain terms, NO.
At last I accepted my limits, at least for the night, and set aside the large plug. But my ass would not be getting off scott-free! I grabbed my second size plug, lubed it up quickly and pressed it against my rear. The toy slid easily into my ass, as though there was room to spare. Never before had anything glided in so smoothly, and this told me that my butt had tried to accept the new size.
I slept happily filled by my plug, but the experience had given me an idea. On the next night I attacked the goal in a new way. First I slid the size 2 plug into my hole, enjoying the comfortable feeling for about half an hour. Once I knew I’d primed the area for the new challenge I lubed the larger plug. I removed number two, and while my muscles were still stretched and pliable I pushed number three against my rosebud, unwilling to fail this time!
My ass is as eager to please my Master as I am, and with such inspiration I relished the moment as my tight muscles resisted and argued and clenched, and then finally gave up and allowed the largest toy to take its place inside me.
This was fullness.
I lie on the bed, unable to think of anything but the sensation of being completely full. This plug finally challenged me, making my muscles spasm and twitch in a constant attempt to rid itself of the intrusion. But I relaxed and enjoyed the fullness. I enjoyed this feeling unlike any I’d had. I enjoyed feeling full and changed and stretched. So very stretched. I closed my eyes and imagined my Master standing beside me, smiling, pleased with my desire to serve him. An hour later I allowed my rear to finally empty again. From then on I've continued this process. I have two-stepped it, like the first night, but my goal by the end of first week was for my ass will take plug number three without any prompting. Sadly this was also a bridge too far, but one I will continue to work for. Once I accomplish this goal it will prove to me that my muscles have finally stretched to better accept anything with which my Master wishes to fill me.
That will be a proud moment for me.
After a few weeks I decided there had been no challenge to this (apart from my last post's day of BIG challenge!), and that if I was going to stretch and push and change myself to please my Master I would have to, need to, move on. And so I happily pressed the next larger plug into my ass.
But to my surprise and pride I took this size easily as well. A little more pressure to push past the defenses, but otherwise an easy task. In less than a week I slept all night long with this plug deep inside as well. After a couple of nights I had one morning where I felt my muscles stretched as I walked, but only a little, and only a while. In the same way that I beamed from my success I also worried that I wasn’t making any difference, and therefore was not truly changing myself for my Master. More than anything this is my goal with each minute of training – to improve myself. To better myself. To become what he deserves, and if my training is too easy doesn’t it mean nothing is happening?
Worried and frustrated I moved myself up to the third, and largest plug of my training kit. I lay down on my bed, the toy glistening with lube, and I pressed the tip into my rosebud and pushed.
And pushed.
And pushed. And pushed. And winced, and grimaced, and whimpered. Finally after a few minutes I pulled away, giving my ass the break it needed. Simply put, my rear had finally put its foot down and said “no.” No, it was not willing to stretch enough to accept this newest, largest intrusion.
This proved to me that all the work I’d done so far had, indeed, been stretching my muscles to better accept my toys. I was once again proud of the work that I’d done. But now I faced my first possible failure. I tried again, concentrating on deep breaths and relaxing my muscles and all the tricks of the ass-stretching trade. And again my ass told me, in no uncertain terms, NO.
At last I accepted my limits, at least for the night, and set aside the large plug. But my ass would not be getting off scott-free! I grabbed my second size plug, lubed it up quickly and pressed it against my rear. The toy slid easily into my ass, as though there was room to spare. Never before had anything glided in so smoothly, and this told me that my butt had tried to accept the new size.
I slept happily filled by my plug, but the experience had given me an idea. On the next night I attacked the goal in a new way. First I slid the size 2 plug into my hole, enjoying the comfortable feeling for about half an hour. Once I knew I’d primed the area for the new challenge I lubed the larger plug. I removed number two, and while my muscles were still stretched and pliable I pushed number three against my rosebud, unwilling to fail this time!
My ass is as eager to please my Master as I am, and with such inspiration I relished the moment as my tight muscles resisted and argued and clenched, and then finally gave up and allowed the largest toy to take its place inside me.
This was fullness.
I lie on the bed, unable to think of anything but the sensation of being completely full. This plug finally challenged me, making my muscles spasm and twitch in a constant attempt to rid itself of the intrusion. But I relaxed and enjoyed the fullness. I enjoyed this feeling unlike any I’d had. I enjoyed feeling full and changed and stretched. So very stretched. I closed my eyes and imagined my Master standing beside me, smiling, pleased with my desire to serve him. An hour later I allowed my rear to finally empty again. From then on I've continued this process. I have two-stepped it, like the first night, but my goal by the end of first week was for my ass will take plug number three without any prompting. Sadly this was also a bridge too far, but one I will continue to work for. Once I accomplish this goal it will prove to me that my muscles have finally stretched to better accept anything with which my Master wishes to fill me.
That will be a proud moment for me.
Thursday, 3 December 2009
Ass Training - my First Challenge
The first, smallest butt plug surprised me when it slid into my tight little rosebud with nary a complaint. I’d been nervous about this exercise and worried that I wouldn’t be able to improve myself for my Master, but there I was with my ass filled for his pleasure. I repeated it every night for the first week, and at the first weekend I was practically smug with how well I had done.
My Master sounded pleased, to be sure, and in that way that he does he allowed himself to think almost out loud. His thoughts culminated with a pleased-sounding “hmmmm…"
“What?” I asked. I knew that “hmmmm…” and often such things were opportunities for me to please him even more. And I can never get enough of such opportunities.
“Well, I was thinking of something, but I’d say its too soon.” He was smiling as he said it, and I took the bait like a prize-winning fish.
“Why? What is it?”
“I have a new task for you,” he smirked over the line, “but it would mean speeding up the process.” I should have considered those words longer, given that at that point I’d only just completed a week of training. But in my mind I was sure I knew his thoughts, and I’d already had the same ones. Rather than waiting another week I would go ahead and jump to the next size of ass plug next week. I was sure I could do it, and in fact was eager to feel myself, my ass, stretching to better myself for his pleasure. So with very little thought I eagerly replied.
“Ok.”
“Ok what?” was his careful response.
“Ok let’s speed up.” I smiled myself this time and I knew he heard it. My ego was about to get me into just a little bit of trouble again.
“Are you sure?” he asked, giving me one last opportunity that I honestly didn’t deserve to reconsider. “Once I tell you there’s no turning back; you’d have to take the challenge.” And of course didn’t take the chance given me.
“I’m sure. What’s the task?”
“On Monday I want you to wear the ass plug to work. All day.”
This was not what I was expecting. I was sure we were talking larger. Not longer. I’d not even kept it in the entire night, so the idea of all day was… daunting. If not a little scary. But I’d asked, and had received my challenge. I knew I’d have no option to reconsider at this point, so I would have to follow through. And though I was scared, I was also excited at such a lofty goal. And I was thrilled at the idea of amusing him. I knew he loved the idea of my working all day long, my mind never off of the tremendous fullness in my ass simply to please him.
On Saturday night I kept the plug in almost all night long; four hours at least I knew. Again my ass happily took the intrusion, and in fact I’d begun to notice pleasure centers in and around my rear. Each time I shoved the plug deep into myself I had a shudder of intense pleasure for a few minutes following. I didn’t know if it was actual, physical pleasure or simply enjoyment of being invaded only to improve myself. And I didn’t really care.
Sunday night as I spoke to him he asked if I was nervous about the next day. I had been thinking about it all day long and confessed to some nerves. This confession only pleased him more. He told me he knew that I’d make him proud; that he had faith in me. So overjoyed was I by his praise I now couldn’t wait for the next morning, when I would fill myself for him. And so it was that 6am the next morning, as the little, black intruder pushed its way into my ass and settled in for the day, that I felt such a rush of excitement and pleasure as to almost cum.
Each step that day was a constant reminder of him. As I sat at my desk I struggled to think about my work, instead fixated on the never ending pressure from the waist down. The experience overloaded my senses and by lunchtime I was incredibly damp between my legs. I went home for lunch, having been given permission by Master to remove it and add more lube. I allowed my tight little hole a rest while I ate my lunch, but when the food was gone I forced myself onto my back, my knees up over my head and my little anal intruder back into its home. As it slid in the second time for that day my rear took it even more readily. In fact, it slid in smoothly, with little of the normal resistance. And once again I was rewarded with a strong ripple throughout my system, bordering on an orgasm.
I had also realized somewhere during my day that I had a business dinner to attend that night. I spoke to Master about how I would be coming home between work and the dinner to be able to talk to him a while, as well as to remove the plug.
“Oh, but what fun would that be?” he asked, that now-familiar smile still in his voice. I assumed that he was kidding, never thinking he would want me to extend my challenge so far. But as I joked back he made himself more clear. “You are to wear the plug through dinner as well, slave.” As is so often the case in these moments I stuttered some kind of resistance while simultaneously loving this sound of his wicked smile and the idea of pleasing him.
The plug stayed with me as I sat at the table of co-workers, making idle chit-chat and privately marveling at what they had no idea about.
That night I was not required to train my ass. As I came home I changed into pj’s and finally removed the plug. My well-worked behind let out its own sigh of relief as it was finally freed from the visitor. Making it that much more surprising the next day at work when I became aware of a new feeling: I missed the plug. My empty ass seemed sad and unchallenged after a day of being to put to work for the sole purpose of amusing its Master. When I trained that night it was a relief to be filled once again. As it is always a relief to be allowed to prove to Master he made the right choice by claiming me oh so many months ago.
My Master sounded pleased, to be sure, and in that way that he does he allowed himself to think almost out loud. His thoughts culminated with a pleased-sounding “hmmmm…"
“What?” I asked. I knew that “hmmmm…” and often such things were opportunities for me to please him even more. And I can never get enough of such opportunities.
“Well, I was thinking of something, but I’d say its too soon.” He was smiling as he said it, and I took the bait like a prize-winning fish.
“Why? What is it?”
“I have a new task for you,” he smirked over the line, “but it would mean speeding up the process.” I should have considered those words longer, given that at that point I’d only just completed a week of training. But in my mind I was sure I knew his thoughts, and I’d already had the same ones. Rather than waiting another week I would go ahead and jump to the next size of ass plug next week. I was sure I could do it, and in fact was eager to feel myself, my ass, stretching to better myself for his pleasure. So with very little thought I eagerly replied.
“Ok.”
“Ok what?” was his careful response.
“Ok let’s speed up.” I smiled myself this time and I knew he heard it. My ego was about to get me into just a little bit of trouble again.
“Are you sure?” he asked, giving me one last opportunity that I honestly didn’t deserve to reconsider. “Once I tell you there’s no turning back; you’d have to take the challenge.” And of course didn’t take the chance given me.
“I’m sure. What’s the task?”
“On Monday I want you to wear the ass plug to work. All day.”
This was not what I was expecting. I was sure we were talking larger. Not longer. I’d not even kept it in the entire night, so the idea of all day was… daunting. If not a little scary. But I’d asked, and had received my challenge. I knew I’d have no option to reconsider at this point, so I would have to follow through. And though I was scared, I was also excited at such a lofty goal. And I was thrilled at the idea of amusing him. I knew he loved the idea of my working all day long, my mind never off of the tremendous fullness in my ass simply to please him.
On Saturday night I kept the plug in almost all night long; four hours at least I knew. Again my ass happily took the intrusion, and in fact I’d begun to notice pleasure centers in and around my rear. Each time I shoved the plug deep into myself I had a shudder of intense pleasure for a few minutes following. I didn’t know if it was actual, physical pleasure or simply enjoyment of being invaded only to improve myself. And I didn’t really care.
Sunday night as I spoke to him he asked if I was nervous about the next day. I had been thinking about it all day long and confessed to some nerves. This confession only pleased him more. He told me he knew that I’d make him proud; that he had faith in me. So overjoyed was I by his praise I now couldn’t wait for the next morning, when I would fill myself for him. And so it was that 6am the next morning, as the little, black intruder pushed its way into my ass and settled in for the day, that I felt such a rush of excitement and pleasure as to almost cum.
Each step that day was a constant reminder of him. As I sat at my desk I struggled to think about my work, instead fixated on the never ending pressure from the waist down. The experience overloaded my senses and by lunchtime I was incredibly damp between my legs. I went home for lunch, having been given permission by Master to remove it and add more lube. I allowed my tight little hole a rest while I ate my lunch, but when the food was gone I forced myself onto my back, my knees up over my head and my little anal intruder back into its home. As it slid in the second time for that day my rear took it even more readily. In fact, it slid in smoothly, with little of the normal resistance. And once again I was rewarded with a strong ripple throughout my system, bordering on an orgasm.
I had also realized somewhere during my day that I had a business dinner to attend that night. I spoke to Master about how I would be coming home between work and the dinner to be able to talk to him a while, as well as to remove the plug.
“Oh, but what fun would that be?” he asked, that now-familiar smile still in his voice. I assumed that he was kidding, never thinking he would want me to extend my challenge so far. But as I joked back he made himself more clear. “You are to wear the plug through dinner as well, slave.” As is so often the case in these moments I stuttered some kind of resistance while simultaneously loving this sound of his wicked smile and the idea of pleasing him.
The plug stayed with me as I sat at the table of co-workers, making idle chit-chat and privately marveling at what they had no idea about.
That night I was not required to train my ass. As I came home I changed into pj’s and finally removed the plug. My well-worked behind let out its own sigh of relief as it was finally freed from the visitor. Making it that much more surprising the next day at work when I became aware of a new feeling: I missed the plug. My empty ass seemed sad and unchallenged after a day of being to put to work for the sole purpose of amusing its Master. When I trained that night it was a relief to be filled once again. As it is always a relief to be allowed to prove to Master he made the right choice by claiming me oh so many months ago.
Monday, 23 November 2009
Gag Reflex
My Master is extremely well endowed.
EXTREMELY.
This was a bright and amazing surprise for me the first time he thrust his cock into my cunt and I screamed as he smashed into organs and other pesky obstacles. Though I love his long, thick cock and dream often of loving it in person, the size proved to be a challenge when trying to take all of him into my mouth. I’d been able to take my previous lover down my throat, but the size difference was something I’d not counted on. When I’d failed several times to give Master the pleasure he deserved and I desperately wanted to give I felt honestly depressed. A failure.
I do not intend to feel this way again.
I searched my good friend the internet and found many wise and helpful deviants with suggestions and methods to help me develop the ability to take my Master’s impressive muscle all the way in my mouth and down my throat. The first step? Well, as they say every job has a perfect tool. For this one that tool happened to be a 12” jelly dildo.
My beloved glass dildo proved to be too hard and unyielding for this process, so I went out and found something I knew for sure would be much longer than my Master (or hopefully for any Master!) The texture is softer, more pliable and yielding, allowing it to bend to go down my tight, defensive throat. This should be a much more suitable tool for training my throat to let me choke when properly worshipping my Master’s manhood.
This website has a very clear and comprehensive explanation of how to learn to shut down the gag reflex, and I will be using much of their information as I do my nightly training sessions. My goal is to train my throat to recognize all foreign objects as hostile, except that of my Masters beautiful cock. My hope is that by the time I next kneel before him I will be as able as I will be eager to bury him all the way down my throat, smelling his heady aroma as my nose reaches his stomach. More on this evolution as I go.
EXTREMELY.
This was a bright and amazing surprise for me the first time he thrust his cock into my cunt and I screamed as he smashed into organs and other pesky obstacles. Though I love his long, thick cock and dream often of loving it in person, the size proved to be a challenge when trying to take all of him into my mouth. I’d been able to take my previous lover down my throat, but the size difference was something I’d not counted on. When I’d failed several times to give Master the pleasure he deserved and I desperately wanted to give I felt honestly depressed. A failure.
I do not intend to feel this way again.
I searched my good friend the internet and found many wise and helpful deviants with suggestions and methods to help me develop the ability to take my Master’s impressive muscle all the way in my mouth and down my throat. The first step? Well, as they say every job has a perfect tool. For this one that tool happened to be a 12” jelly dildo.
My beloved glass dildo proved to be too hard and unyielding for this process, so I went out and found something I knew for sure would be much longer than my Master (or hopefully for any Master!) The texture is softer, more pliable and yielding, allowing it to bend to go down my tight, defensive throat. This should be a much more suitable tool for training my throat to let me choke when properly worshipping my Master’s manhood.
This website has a very clear and comprehensive explanation of how to learn to shut down the gag reflex, and I will be using much of their information as I do my nightly training sessions. My goal is to train my throat to recognize all foreign objects as hostile, except that of my Masters beautiful cock. My hope is that by the time I next kneel before him I will be as able as I will be eager to bury him all the way down my throat, smelling his heady aroma as my nose reaches his stomach. More on this evolution as I go.
Wednesday, 11 November 2009
New tricks...
As I’ve already mentioned, Master is considering how completely he wishes to take me when next we spend time together. So far he’s owned my mouth and my cunt quite fully. However my ass remains rebellious and he’s unsure if he’ll tame it yet as well. Still, wanting to allow him to do whatever he decides he tasked me with preparing myself for his very, very ample cock.
A week ago I went on an errand for my Master. We have a favorite toy store in my city which tends to appeal to our kinds of kink. I went there and spoke to the extremely knowledgeable staff person, explaining to her frankly that I was looking to prepare my ass for an impressive intrusion. By the time we’d covered all the possibilities I walked out with a large bottle of lube and the Trinity Silicone Butt Plug Kit. Three plugs in total, they range from an inch in diameter at the smallest to 1.5 inches at the largest, as well as ranging from 2 inches to 3 inches long. They’re my training wheels and I eagerly jumped on and started pedaling as soon as I brought them home.
Sunday night I began a new, nightly ritual aimed for a very significant goal: to train my ass to take intrusion. Not just to take it, but to enjoy it. To learn to love the feeling of a full, pressured ass. I’ve repeated this training every night this week.
That first night was an amazing experience. Unsure of what I was going to do I made it up as I went along. I lie naked on my bed on a towel and I told my body to relax. Relax. Relax. I sloughed off the pressures of the day and everyday life. I knew I’d have no room for those pressures with the pressure I was about to pull into myself. Once I’d relaxed my body I squirted lube onto my left hand, covering the fingers, and I pulled my legs up, over my head so that my knees rested on either side of my head; my hand slid between the legs and found my tight, pink hole, ready as a barrier to any intrusion. I slipped the lube all around my hole, and after a minute or so I stuck my finger into my ass.
This was the first time I’d ever taken this step. Though I was trying to concentrate on the task of pushing lube down into the hole, I had to stop for a moment and process the feelings. Of my physical body’s attempts to push back; of my rush of pleasure and danger; of the intoxicating idea that I was intruding this way on my Master’s instruction. It was heady and intense. A word that will come back again and again in this telling.
My asshole now well-lubed I squirted more into my hand and I grabbed the smallest butt plug. I honestly looked at it and thought to myself that it seemed almost too easy a goal. Knowing the size of my Master’s cock, I wondered if I should start with a larger size, but decided I would start with the smallest just to be sure. I rolled the tapered point and round bulb around in the lube, being sure it was completely and thickly covered, and then I grabbed the ring at the base and aimed it for my tight little rosebud. And I pushed.
And I pushed.
My body’s defenses are robust, and they are very sure that nothing should going in that out-hole. As soon as the plug passed a certain point my muscles came back to life, trying to close off all access. At this point I had to breathe deeply and remind them all of the cardinal rule: relax. Relax. Relax. And then again I pushed.
To my surprise the muscles listened to me (a first, I assure you!!) and I had not too much resistance. My next surprise was how amazing full my ass felt by just this smallest plug. Pressure starting at the base of my spine and continuing down to the split of my legs, so intense! I lie on my bed, my legs stretched out straight, and I breathed long, deep breaths to once more relax, relax, relax. With time I found it easier and easier to experience this for my Master. But I wanted to do more than experience it. I wanted my body to learn to love it.
I shivered slightly, cold as I was lying naked and exposed, and I let my eyes close and my mind open. I fished around until a fantasy began to form. In my mind I lie on my bed, but with my eyes covered and my wrists bound around my headboard. I waited for some sort of change and finally felt my bed shake – someone else was on the bed with me. Warm hands took my legs and lifted them over my head. A slick, cold finger pushed into my rear, impossible to feel with my ass already so overwhelmed.
I let my fingers slide down to my smooth cunt as the fantasy unfolded. Already my soft lips were slick in anticipation.
I imagined my Master exploring my ass with his finger, but I knew this was the first step toward something else. As if events were under my control (and yes, I know they were) the finger left my ass and something new replaced it. I felt cold and slick and pressure as Master slid something into me. I was only just reacting to the feeling when the blindfold evaporated and I found myself staring into Master’s startling green eyes. At this time I began to fall.
Under Master’s control I felt myself falling further and further into the very back of my mind. As I moved away from control of my body Master pulled forth the animal from inside me and gave her free reign. From my vantage point the outside world seemed like something viewed from the wrong end of a telescope and I saw myself crawl down to the floor, walking on my hands and knees. Master had clipped the leash to my collar and now took my vacant and eager puppy self on a walk around the apartment.
As this fantasy took hold I let my hands lavish affections on my clit, the abundant juices all around my cunt now spread out to my thighs. My hips bucked up occasionally, and only then was I reminded of my ass still so packed tight. The feeling of the plug in my ass now felt almost easy to my body.
In my mind I continued to see myself heeling at my master’s foot. I moved past the mirror hanging on my closet door and there I realized what my Master had inserted into my ass: a tail. From my round rear there now hung a long, red fox tail. To my surprise the image was one I found… lovely.
I allowed this fantasy to continue until my phone’s alarm sounded, telling me that I’d let my training go the entire thirty minutes. I was amazed that I’d found pleasure for most of that time, and that the intensity of my full ass had become something I not only endured but even enjoyed. This was my first night of training, but now I knew I would succeed in preparing myself for my Master. I even wondered if I would be rewarded for my action with my own lovely tail…
A week ago I went on an errand for my Master. We have a favorite toy store in my city which tends to appeal to our kinds of kink. I went there and spoke to the extremely knowledgeable staff person, explaining to her frankly that I was looking to prepare my ass for an impressive intrusion. By the time we’d covered all the possibilities I walked out with a large bottle of lube and the Trinity Silicone Butt Plug Kit. Three plugs in total, they range from an inch in diameter at the smallest to 1.5 inches at the largest, as well as ranging from 2 inches to 3 inches long. They’re my training wheels and I eagerly jumped on and started pedaling as soon as I brought them home.
Sunday night I began a new, nightly ritual aimed for a very significant goal: to train my ass to take intrusion. Not just to take it, but to enjoy it. To learn to love the feeling of a full, pressured ass. I’ve repeated this training every night this week.
That first night was an amazing experience. Unsure of what I was going to do I made it up as I went along. I lie naked on my bed on a towel and I told my body to relax. Relax. Relax. I sloughed off the pressures of the day and everyday life. I knew I’d have no room for those pressures with the pressure I was about to pull into myself. Once I’d relaxed my body I squirted lube onto my left hand, covering the fingers, and I pulled my legs up, over my head so that my knees rested on either side of my head; my hand slid between the legs and found my tight, pink hole, ready as a barrier to any intrusion. I slipped the lube all around my hole, and after a minute or so I stuck my finger into my ass.
This was the first time I’d ever taken this step. Though I was trying to concentrate on the task of pushing lube down into the hole, I had to stop for a moment and process the feelings. Of my physical body’s attempts to push back; of my rush of pleasure and danger; of the intoxicating idea that I was intruding this way on my Master’s instruction. It was heady and intense. A word that will come back again and again in this telling.
My asshole now well-lubed I squirted more into my hand and I grabbed the smallest butt plug. I honestly looked at it and thought to myself that it seemed almost too easy a goal. Knowing the size of my Master’s cock, I wondered if I should start with a larger size, but decided I would start with the smallest just to be sure. I rolled the tapered point and round bulb around in the lube, being sure it was completely and thickly covered, and then I grabbed the ring at the base and aimed it for my tight little rosebud. And I pushed.
And I pushed.
My body’s defenses are robust, and they are very sure that nothing should going in that out-hole. As soon as the plug passed a certain point my muscles came back to life, trying to close off all access. At this point I had to breathe deeply and remind them all of the cardinal rule: relax. Relax. Relax. And then again I pushed.
To my surprise the muscles listened to me (a first, I assure you!!) and I had not too much resistance. My next surprise was how amazing full my ass felt by just this smallest plug. Pressure starting at the base of my spine and continuing down to the split of my legs, so intense! I lie on my bed, my legs stretched out straight, and I breathed long, deep breaths to once more relax, relax, relax. With time I found it easier and easier to experience this for my Master. But I wanted to do more than experience it. I wanted my body to learn to love it.
I shivered slightly, cold as I was lying naked and exposed, and I let my eyes close and my mind open. I fished around until a fantasy began to form. In my mind I lie on my bed, but with my eyes covered and my wrists bound around my headboard. I waited for some sort of change and finally felt my bed shake – someone else was on the bed with me. Warm hands took my legs and lifted them over my head. A slick, cold finger pushed into my rear, impossible to feel with my ass already so overwhelmed.
I let my fingers slide down to my smooth cunt as the fantasy unfolded. Already my soft lips were slick in anticipation.
I imagined my Master exploring my ass with his finger, but I knew this was the first step toward something else. As if events were under my control (and yes, I know they were) the finger left my ass and something new replaced it. I felt cold and slick and pressure as Master slid something into me. I was only just reacting to the feeling when the blindfold evaporated and I found myself staring into Master’s startling green eyes. At this time I began to fall.
Under Master’s control I felt myself falling further and further into the very back of my mind. As I moved away from control of my body Master pulled forth the animal from inside me and gave her free reign. From my vantage point the outside world seemed like something viewed from the wrong end of a telescope and I saw myself crawl down to the floor, walking on my hands and knees. Master had clipped the leash to my collar and now took my vacant and eager puppy self on a walk around the apartment.
As this fantasy took hold I let my hands lavish affections on my clit, the abundant juices all around my cunt now spread out to my thighs. My hips bucked up occasionally, and only then was I reminded of my ass still so packed tight. The feeling of the plug in my ass now felt almost easy to my body.
In my mind I continued to see myself heeling at my master’s foot. I moved past the mirror hanging on my closet door and there I realized what my Master had inserted into my ass: a tail. From my round rear there now hung a long, red fox tail. To my surprise the image was one I found… lovely.
I allowed this fantasy to continue until my phone’s alarm sounded, telling me that I’d let my training go the entire thirty minutes. I was amazed that I’d found pleasure for most of that time, and that the intensity of my full ass had become something I not only endured but even enjoyed. This was my first night of training, but now I knew I would succeed in preparing myself for my Master. I even wondered if I would be rewarded for my action with my own lovely tail…
Sunday, 8 November 2009
Full, Full, Full...
Master has been so generous with his time this weekend. I’m overwhelmed and oversexed all at once. Tonight we talked a little about something that has come up a couple of times recently: my ass. I have been asking Master if, when he visits me in a couple of months, he plans to take me in all possible places. This would include, of course, my ass. This is a place he did not take me before, but there have been discussions, and I am becoming more desperate to know his decision.
In a manner so typical for my Master, he has not given me a decision yet and won’t for some time. He especially enjoys creating opportunities to make me squirm, and on this question I am certainly squirming. Deliciously so.
Still, I’ve worried about a last-minute decision and that it might not allow me to prepare for him. My Master is not a small man; not at all. The first time I felt him rush into my cunt I screamed out loud. While I grow wet at the very idea of Master filling my ass, I also fear that I will be unable to take him in and I hate any idea of my failing my Master. I mentioned this worry to him last night and he suggested I might want to find a butt plug or even a dilator kit to get used to the feeling, but I did not know if he truly wanted me to or not.
Tonight I asked again if he had made a decision about whether to take me from behind. With his sinister smile he told me he was still considering, and added that he had no plans to make the decision soon. I bit my lip and mentioned again that I hoped to know with enough advance notice as to allow me to prepare my ass for him. Ever pragmatic, he answered my worries with a question: did it excite me to think of sliding a butt plug into my ass? With a tiny voice I told him that what excited me was the idea of doing it to make myself more worthy for him. He smiled still, his eyes flashing in a way that told me he knew what I needed, and gave it to me with three simple words.
“Then get one.”
I felt myself leak at the command. Tomorrow I will go to our favorite toy store and find an anal dilator kit to begin my training. The question settled, we went back to our conversation. We chatted for a while, but I admit my mind was stuck on the idea of this new toy. My Master had pulled out his cock when we discussed my fear of his size, and though we’d been chatting on I knew his cock was still hard. I knew that it was just out of camera range. I knew that his hand was wrapped around it still. This idea I could not push from my mind, and instead it slid down my mind into my body. I began to whimper a little as my hips bucked back and forth, the crotch of my pants sliding over my freshly waxed cunt.
Master heard my pitiful sounds and knew I was losing my control. He could have shut me down, tamed my libido, but instead he let me go; even fueled the fire by allowing me to see his arm moving off camera, thereby confirming my thoughts of his activity. I writhed as I watched him; his beautiful face making my heart race and his rocking shoulder sending ripples through me. He enjoyed my pathetic gasps and moans and mewls, and when I grew too quiet he stoked me again.
“Do you like the idea of me taking you in your ass?” he asked me with a sly grin.
I ground my hand down between my legs again as I answered. “I like the idea of you taking me in every possible way. Making your ownership of me complete.” Hearing these words come from my lips I felt another rush of wet slide out of my cunt. My head spun from this build up of fire. I let my gaze come back to the computer screen and his pleased expression. And his rocking arm.
We spent many minutes just building ourselves up to mutual pleasure, his hand stroking as mine did the same. My noises became more pressing, more desperate and I felt my climax rushing at me. I cried out that I was cumming, and yet Master wasn’t finished with me yet. I’d only barely caught my breath when I heard his voice again. “I will count to three, and you will feel the smallest of the butt plug slide into you. Three, Two, One… Now.”
I cried out as my ass filled, putting pressure on everything below my waist. Knowing Master wanted me to feel this now, simply through his control of me, kept me from coming down from my orgasm high. Seconds later I was already half way toward another climax. I shuddered and groaned and my hips bucked again, but this time each thrust up to my hand clenched my ass muscles, stretched tightly around the smallest plug now filling my ass. This simply added to my feeling of helplessness and ecstasy.
“This is so intense” I gasped out, the sentence coming in bits and pieces. Though I couldn’t get out any more words, beyond pants and pleas, in my mind I boggled at both the feeling of being completely packed down below, as well as being Masters fucktoy to be stuffed as he wishes with simply a suggestion. I twisted and humped and shook, keeping my eyes on Master’s face on my laptop as much as I could. His face told me that he was close to his finale, and I strained to hear his gasps through my headphones over my own cries.
At last I saw and heard him arrive. He groaned and exhaled, bringing me to the very peak of my own crushing climax. More than that, with each breath of his cum I heard I felt a hot jet of cum hit my ass, so sensitive with the fullness. I closed my eyes and imagined being bent over before him, exposed and overflowing at once as his cock splashes my butt with his hot cream.
Generous to me he breathed through the connection “cum.” And I did. Only a few minutes after my last time I was once again clutching the couch as my toes curled and my heart shuddered. He need only ever say the word and I obey. Happily, eagerly I obey. I cascaded down the other side of the eruption and felt the fullness in my ass slip away, another gift from him. Once empty again I discovered I missed it. Missed the sensation of being full there to please only him. But tomorrow I will go and buy the new toy. And I will once again fill myself. For him.
In a manner so typical for my Master, he has not given me a decision yet and won’t for some time. He especially enjoys creating opportunities to make me squirm, and on this question I am certainly squirming. Deliciously so.
Still, I’ve worried about a last-minute decision and that it might not allow me to prepare for him. My Master is not a small man; not at all. The first time I felt him rush into my cunt I screamed out loud. While I grow wet at the very idea of Master filling my ass, I also fear that I will be unable to take him in and I hate any idea of my failing my Master. I mentioned this worry to him last night and he suggested I might want to find a butt plug or even a dilator kit to get used to the feeling, but I did not know if he truly wanted me to or not.
Tonight I asked again if he had made a decision about whether to take me from behind. With his sinister smile he told me he was still considering, and added that he had no plans to make the decision soon. I bit my lip and mentioned again that I hoped to know with enough advance notice as to allow me to prepare my ass for him. Ever pragmatic, he answered my worries with a question: did it excite me to think of sliding a butt plug into my ass? With a tiny voice I told him that what excited me was the idea of doing it to make myself more worthy for him. He smiled still, his eyes flashing in a way that told me he knew what I needed, and gave it to me with three simple words.
“Then get one.”
I felt myself leak at the command. Tomorrow I will go to our favorite toy store and find an anal dilator kit to begin my training. The question settled, we went back to our conversation. We chatted for a while, but I admit my mind was stuck on the idea of this new toy. My Master had pulled out his cock when we discussed my fear of his size, and though we’d been chatting on I knew his cock was still hard. I knew that it was just out of camera range. I knew that his hand was wrapped around it still. This idea I could not push from my mind, and instead it slid down my mind into my body. I began to whimper a little as my hips bucked back and forth, the crotch of my pants sliding over my freshly waxed cunt.
Master heard my pitiful sounds and knew I was losing my control. He could have shut me down, tamed my libido, but instead he let me go; even fueled the fire by allowing me to see his arm moving off camera, thereby confirming my thoughts of his activity. I writhed as I watched him; his beautiful face making my heart race and his rocking shoulder sending ripples through me. He enjoyed my pathetic gasps and moans and mewls, and when I grew too quiet he stoked me again.
“Do you like the idea of me taking you in your ass?” he asked me with a sly grin.
I ground my hand down between my legs again as I answered. “I like the idea of you taking me in every possible way. Making your ownership of me complete.” Hearing these words come from my lips I felt another rush of wet slide out of my cunt. My head spun from this build up of fire. I let my gaze come back to the computer screen and his pleased expression. And his rocking arm.
We spent many minutes just building ourselves up to mutual pleasure, his hand stroking as mine did the same. My noises became more pressing, more desperate and I felt my climax rushing at me. I cried out that I was cumming, and yet Master wasn’t finished with me yet. I’d only barely caught my breath when I heard his voice again. “I will count to three, and you will feel the smallest of the butt plug slide into you. Three, Two, One… Now.”
I cried out as my ass filled, putting pressure on everything below my waist. Knowing Master wanted me to feel this now, simply through his control of me, kept me from coming down from my orgasm high. Seconds later I was already half way toward another climax. I shuddered and groaned and my hips bucked again, but this time each thrust up to my hand clenched my ass muscles, stretched tightly around the smallest plug now filling my ass. This simply added to my feeling of helplessness and ecstasy.
“This is so intense” I gasped out, the sentence coming in bits and pieces. Though I couldn’t get out any more words, beyond pants and pleas, in my mind I boggled at both the feeling of being completely packed down below, as well as being Masters fucktoy to be stuffed as he wishes with simply a suggestion. I twisted and humped and shook, keeping my eyes on Master’s face on my laptop as much as I could. His face told me that he was close to his finale, and I strained to hear his gasps through my headphones over my own cries.
At last I saw and heard him arrive. He groaned and exhaled, bringing me to the very peak of my own crushing climax. More than that, with each breath of his cum I heard I felt a hot jet of cum hit my ass, so sensitive with the fullness. I closed my eyes and imagined being bent over before him, exposed and overflowing at once as his cock splashes my butt with his hot cream.
Generous to me he breathed through the connection “cum.” And I did. Only a few minutes after my last time I was once again clutching the couch as my toes curled and my heart shuddered. He need only ever say the word and I obey. Happily, eagerly I obey. I cascaded down the other side of the eruption and felt the fullness in my ass slip away, another gift from him. Once empty again I discovered I missed it. Missed the sensation of being full there to please only him. But tomorrow I will go and buy the new toy. And I will once again fill myself. For him.
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