The real-life adventures of a girl who is willing to try just about anything.

Roland

Sinful Sunday – Happy trail

“Sinful Sunday is all about the image.”

His jeans were hanging off his hips in that way

I had to share this super hot photo Roland sent me when I was out of town last time. Although I love the cock shots I always get from him when I’m away from home, this is definitely far sexier.

Posted in participation with Sinful Sunday, hosted by Molly’s Daily Kiss.
It was picked as one of the top 5 images in her weekly round up!
Click below to see who else is having some beefcake this Sunday.

 

Seeing eye to eye

While I am not a shoe fetishist, per se, getting a new pair of shoes has become something to be celebrated. At least when those new shoes are high heels. I am a big fan of chunky platform heels, particularly wedges. I just so happened to pick up a new pair yesterday. Last night, Roland and I got a chance to break them in properly.

Roland went to the bedroom to get ready for bed around 10pm. He came out shortly thereafter, completely in the buff. He sat in his desk chair, legs spread to show off his cock in all it’s magnificent, erect glory. I turned from my computer to ogle him and asked if he was trying to tell me something. He replied that he’d like to break in my new shoes. 

I was right in the middle of something at that moment, so I told him to give me a couple of minutes. He settled in and started viewing some porn on his computer while I finished what I was doing on mine. When I was done, I got up and went to the bedroom without any announcement. 
I quickly undressed and completed my nighttime toilette, so that I would not have to do it later. I fastened on my new shoes and threw on a cute, sexy nightie. I let my hair down, brushed it, and shook it out, so that it kind of billowed around my head in a tousled way before walked down the hall to the living room and stood in the entryway. Roland heard my heels clunk on the hardwood floor of the hallway and his eyebrows shot up once he saw me.

As he approached me, I realized that my new shoes made us almost exactly the same height. He looked me up and down appreciatively and put his hands on my hips, pulling me toward him. For the first time ever I was standing and looking him directly in the eye. Instead of me reaching up and him leaning down to kiss, all I had to do was press my lips directly to his. It was almost like kissing a stranger!

He pulled away and took my hand to lead me through the bedroom to the back door and the deck. I’m not exactly sure why, but my new shoes are always put to the first test outside in the night air. Perhaps it’s because outside the best option is to fuck while standing and we like to see if the shoes are the right height for that.

Once outside, I went directly to the railing and leaned against it, pushing my ass out. I like to hang my head over the side of the deck while Roland fucks me. It’s about 20′ above the ground. Not only does it give me a slight sense of dizzying vertigo that increases my arousal, it allows me to look over into the neighbor’s yard to see if we attract any attention. Roland came up behind me and I felt his cock press right between my legs instead of the small of my back where it would be if I were flat-footed.

“These shoes might be almost too tall,” he said. I chuckled in reply.

My laughter was engulfed in a gasp that quickly became a moan as his hand parted the lips of my cunt. I was so wet already that I not only felt, but actually heard the juices fall from my pussy into his hand. I was soaked! His cock twitched against my ass in response. With no delay he shoved his first two fingers into my hole. Involuntarily my pussy tightened up and gripped his fingers as he slid them out and in again. He fucked my cunt slowly and sweetly, making me grind against his hand and moan.

Suddenly he removed his hand and the next thing I knew, he was sitting on the deck between my legs, burying his face in my pussy. My knees grew weak once his tongue was on my throbbing clit. Never before had he licked with such fervor. He dined on me like a man breaking an untold fast. Regardless of how much he lapped away, juices flowed over his chin and down his chest. I could hear the drops hitting his skin.
I don’t know how long he was down there as I bucked and rode his face,. I knew his cock must be about ready to explode, because that’s how my pussy felt. Finally, gasping for air, he resurfaced. Carefully, so as to not knock me over, he got up. Once on his feet again, he kissed me deeply. All I could smell was my wetness all over his face. His lips and tongue tasted like me. I guess in many ways it was the next best thing to eating my own pussy. I do love the taste and smell of my own cunt.
After a few moments he broke our kiss and resumed his position behind me. I barely had a second to register the tip of his cock at the opening of my cunt before I felt it deep within. I couldn’t help but cry out and my only hope was that it wasn’t nearly as loud in the quiet night as it sounded to my own ears.
Roland fucked me hard and fast, his hands alternating between squeezing my bouncing tits, gripping my hips, and pulling my hair. He also gave my ass several stinging swats for good measure. I was in heaven.
Considering everything that lead up to that point, I’m a big surprised he lasted as long as he did. At last with a loud grunt, he dug his fingers into the love handles and held on tightly, his body wracked with the power of his orgasm. Each time his body jerked, he penetrated me even deeper than before. It was all I could to to remain on my feet. My legs felt like jelly. When he withdrew very slowly, all of my exposed flesh broke out in goosebumps as I shivered with pleasure.
Once again I felt my pussy spill, this time with his juices as well. It ran down my legs in a warm gush. One drop fell on the suede upper of my brand new shoes. The stain remains and now they were thoroughly broken in.

Guest post – VIP

Strip clubs have been on my mind lately. Roland and I haven’t been in a while, so I’ve been craving a trip. I wanna throw around some dollar bills and “make it rain” over some lovely ladies. This morning while we were discussing that we need to do this soon, he reminded me of a piece he wrote for me a while back. An incredibly hot tale he describes as “a little mix-n-match from two real lapdances and some fiction.” With his permission, I share it with you today…

I followed the dancer into the VIP area, eyes wandering over the blond hair spilling in curls down her back, hiding the strings of her red bikini top. My gaze went further down, to her slim waist and the ruffled white “skirt” barely covering her red thong, and finally to the red knee-high go-go boots. She led me to an unoccupied booth isolated near the back containing only a chair and a small table where I set my drink, and she set her purse. This wasn’t my first VIP lap dance, so I removed the keys from my front pocket to keep them from poking either of us and sat down, making myself comfortable.


She straddled my legs and sat down on my lap facing me, making small talk, while she un-tucked my shirt and unbuttoned it to the waist. That was certainly different, but then I usually wore pullover shirts, so I didn’t really think anything of it. When she got to the last button she noticed my belt buckle and made a comment about how it looked like it might prove uncomfortable for her to rub up against it. Before I could comment, she had unbuckled it and was pulling my belt completely free and dropping it to the floor beside the chair.
“You don’t have to stop there!” I joked. She paused and a wistful look came across her face as if she was recalling some memory.
“That makes me think about doing things I shouldn’t,” she teased.
“Oh, now I have to know!”
“I could lose my job,” she said as she smiled and shook her head and began to work, rocking her hips back and forth slowly to the music. I dropped the subject and settled back to enjoy the show. I could already feel my cock stiffening inside my jeans as she rubbed her ass against me.
After a moment she took my hands, originally placed respectfully at my side, and guided them up first to her thighs, and then her hips. “Excellent. Audience participation is always a nice touch,” I thought to myself. She guided my hands up to her small but perky breasts. I caressed them gently through the fabric of her top, then gave them a light squeeze. Then she guided one arm behind her and told me to untie her top. I found the bikini string and slowly pulled and the knot came undone. Her erect, pink nipples came into view as her top fell and was discarded to the side. I gave them both a gentle pinch, and she smiled – pleased with my reaction. It’s always a nice bonus when they let you touch.
She leaned in, pressing herself against my bare chest, and bringing her lips within an inch of mine, teasing me with her closeness. She was good at this. I breathed in her perfume and enjoyed the warmth of her soft breasts rubbing against my skin, my hands drifting over her back and waist while she continued to grind rhythmically against my cock.
She paused and stood up to remove the little ruffle that was covering her ass, turning around and bending over as she slid it to her ankles before stepping out of it. Then she lowered herself onto my lap again, this time with her back to me, giving me a full view of her ass cheeks as she rubbed them against me. My cock, which had previously been angled to the side, was pushed towards the middle of my pants so that I could now feel her ass on either side of it.
She leaned back into me, placing her head next to mine and breathing hotly onto my neck. From here I could see her breasts, her flat belly, and the front of her red thong. She enticingly played with her own nipples before sliding her hands down to the top of her panties. She pulled at them slightly, allowing me to observe that she was clean shaven, before putting the fabric back into place. I allowed my hands to wander to her waist, then to the outside of her thighs, testing the boundaries. I began letting my fingers drift over the tops of her thighs, making my way towards her inner thighs when she abruptly stood up again.
She turned around and faced me, then pulled the top of her thong down until it was barely covering anything at all. She traced a finger over the fabric between her legs. Then, using both hands, she pulled the thong down another couple of inches to give me full view of her pussy. It was only a fraction of a second, and the thong was back in place. I imagined I could see a glimmer of wetness in the dim lights, but it was probably just body glitter. She straddled my lap facing me again, and continued to tease and rub my cock with her crotch while I played with her ass.
She leaned in, putting her breasts in my face. Again, I took the opportunity to test the limits and boldly took a tit into my mouth. She froze and inhaled sharply – she hadn’t expected that. Had I gone too far? But she relaxed almost immediately, and didn’t pull away. I began to suck and flick her nipple with my tongue. Then I switched to the other. Both nipples, already erect, became hard as can be and I swore her breathing had quickened. She threw her head back and leaned backwards. I leaned forward a bit and kissed the top of her belly. She was grinding hard against me now. She leaned in close again. She placed one finger on my lips, then leaned in and kissed it – her finger the only thing between us.
She stood up again and turned around, gyrating her round ass at me. I ran my hands over her hips, then took a cheek in each hand and squeezed. She bent over, reached behind her, and pulled the fabric of her thong to the side briefly, teasing me with another peek at her smooth pussy lips. Back around to face me, and she straddled me again, leaning back and letting my hands alternate between supporting her at the waist and playing with her soft tits while she resumed grinding. A light sheen had begun to form on her skin. It felt like my cock was trying to burst through my pants.
Another position change. Facing away again, but leaned forward completely, bracing herself on my knees, grinding the front of her thong against the front of my pants. I played with her ass, and found my fingers wandering dangerously close to her crotch. There was no objection I could detect. I ran my fingertip down the backside of the thong, then pulled it to the side, exposing her pussy once again. Then, while her back was still turned away, I surreptitiously unfastened the button to my jeans, and returned my hands to wandering over her legs and ass.
Position change again. Grinding hard against me, leaning in close, rubbing her naked torso against my chest, breathing hotly and rapidly on my neck. I could feel my zipper opening from her constant motion. Of course me secretly tugging at the sides of my pants to open my fly further was helping it along. She didn’t seem to notice, or she didn’t seem to mind. I wasn’t really sure, all I knew was I was certainly getting my money’s worth on this lap dance.
A few tugs and grinds later, she was rubbing her bare pussy against my boxer briefs and the cock inside them. There was no mistaking now how turned on she was. I could feel her heat through my briefs now. The tip of my cock was protruding ever so slightly above the waistband. I groped her ass and caressed her back while I began kissing her neck. She bit my earlobe and pushed her hips into me, then leaned back, looking me in the eye while she played with her own tits.
I traced my hand down her chest, caressing her belly and then lightly running the tips of my fingers on the inside of her thighs. She raised herself up just a bit and I slid my hand underneath her. She lowered herself onto my open palm. Her pussy was hot to the touch, and damp with sweat. She braced her hands on my knees and leaned back, ceasing her grinding and angling her hips for better access. I traced a finger over her slit and she closed her eyes. She felt so smooth as I let my fingertips wander over her bare mound. I pushed gently as I traced my finger up and down and her lips parted slightly. She was wet. My finger moved easily to her clit and she bit her lip. Her eyes opened and she looked at me, but said nothing. I rubbed her clit, and she stifled a moan. Luckily the music in the club was loud enough to keep anyone from hearing – I hoped. We were well over the line at this point, and she would be in a lot of trouble if we were caught now.
She stood up suddenly and pulled at the waist of my pants, inching them down and out of her way. Then she straddled me again, this time only my shorts were between us. She moved her hips back and forth in long, slow strokes, rubbing her pussy lips against the bulge of my cock. The material covering my shaft was becoming wet with her juices, and the tip was poking past the elastic, occasionally brushing against her. I pulled my shorts down, freeing my throbbing dick and she continued to grind her snatch against the shaft, breathing heavily. I could barely contain myself, but continued to play with her tits, squeezing them hard. My cock was slick with her juice, and I could see my pre-cum seeping out of the tip when I looked down to watch the action.
Then, without warning, she leaned forward and kissed me full on the mouth. I held her close to me. She slipped her tongue into my mouth, all the while still rubbing her wet pussy against me. She was grunting softly into my mouth with each stroke. I couldn’t take it any more. I lifted her ass and shifted my hips just as she was about to begin another downward stroke. The head of my cock pushed into her easily. Her breath caught in her throat, and she reflexively tried to push away, but I held her tight to me. She muffled a squeal in our kiss as she began to sink down onto me. Her resistance subsided as she took me all the way into her tight little pussy, the head of my dick pressing into her as deep as it could go. She was so hot and wet. I could feel her juice run down my balls.
She kept her mouth pressed into mine the entire time as she began to slide up and down on my rigid cock. Her muffled moans barely escaped as she worked my cock like she hadn’t had one in years. Her breathing became more ragged, and I could feel her heart pound against my chest. I could feel tiny squirts of warm pussy running all over my balls. She felt so amazing, and the risk of getting caught only made it hotter. Her thrusts were getting faster and her kiss more desperate.
Suddenly, she froze and held her breath. Then she threw her head back and bit her lip so hard I thought it was going to bleed. Then I felt it. Her pussy quivered and her body began to shake. Her eyes closed tight as she barely managed to contain a scream of ecstasy. I was sure we were going to be busted, but I didn’t care. Being inside her while she orgasmed was incredible, and I was only seconds from blowing my load. She leaned in again, grabbing the back of my head and crushing her mouth against mine, releasing her stifled scream into me, thrusting her hips into me hard again and again until she finally came up for air.
She leaned back to catch her breath, all the while looking me in the eyes and slowly moving her hips up and down, her body trembling and glistening. I could not contain it any longer. The expert teasing during the dance, the steady escalation, her body quivering against mine. I released into her, flooding her pussy with my cum until I could feel it run out of her onto my slick balls. She felt me cum, and her pussy contracted around the head of my cock, milking every last drop out of me while she leaned back and smiled down at me.
I looked down to watch my cock slide out of her as she began to stand up. My cock and balls were soaked with our cum. My shaft gleamed with slickness in the dim lights. The head of my dick throbbed. Cum was running down her legs and into her boots. The red thong was completely askew, bunched up around the crotch, and soaked. We attempted to put ourselves back together as best we could. Her ruffled white cover-up helped a bit, and she used the bar napkin from my drink to wipe herself off as best she could. I was thankful that the wetness in my shorts wasn’t visible through my dark-colored jeans.
I paid her for the lap dance and did my part to make everything seem as natural as possible on the way out of the VIP room. I was so paranoid that someone had heard us, or could smell us, or that there was a security camera in the VIP that I couldn’t see. I needed to get out of there as fast as possible, especially since I didn’t want to sit around in my wet shorts. I told her that I had to leave, and that maybe I would visit her another night.
“I get off work in 20 minutes” she told me before she disappeared into the ladies room.

Quickie in the dark

I opened my car door and was gathering my things to go inside. I put one leg outside and partially swiveled around, preparing to stand. He stepped in front of me and unzipped his jeans, releasing his semi-hard cock. In a flash, I released the things in my hands, turned fully toward him, placed my other foot on the ground outside the car, licked my lips, and took him into my mouth.

As soon as his head was beyond my teeth, I sealed my lips around his shaft and applied some light suction. He stiffened appreciatively. I released some pressure and slid my mouth down, taking him more fully into my mouth toward my throat. I did not go all the way, as I have learned that shallow blow jobs actually get better, faster results. Just a swift, deep bob once or twice is enough.

I pulled almost all the way back so that I could focus on just the tip. Moving my head only slightly, I licked and lapped and sucked. He began to thrust his hips in time with my movements. After a couple of minutes, he put his hand on the back of my head and wrapped his fingers in my hair to direct and increase my tempo. This only served to increase the fervor with which I devoured his cock.
Without warning, he took a step backward, removing himself from my mouth. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up from the car, turning me to face away from him. As I was pressed against the car, I bent down to quickly remove my panties as he lifted my skirt. Once they were out of the way, his fingers were exploring my wet cunt and nudging my throbbing clit. I moaned loudly into the quiet of the dark garage.
He spent only a moment fingering me before his hand was replaced by his cock. I gasped as I always do. He fills me completely and that first moment of penetration is always delicious. He fucked me fast and hard, ramming his cock in and out of my pussy. I push back to meet his every thrust.
With one hand on my hip, he reached around with his other hand to squeeze my breast roughly through my shirt and bra. When that wasn’t satisfactory, he lifted my shirt over my head, then freed both tits over the top of my bra, giving him full access to my aching nipples. 
Once again without warning he pulled away and took my hand. I thought he was going to lay me down and fuck me on the hard, dirty concrete of our driveway. Instead he led me up the hill of our driveway. My heart trip-hammered in my chest. It was late, after 11pm, so it was dark, but my neighbor’s bedroom light was on and I could see the flicker of their television through the living room blinds. If they looked out either window, we would be in full view.
Across the street from their house was a patch of darkness and I assumed that is where he would take me. To my surprise he stopped at the head of the driveway just before that. Across from our mailbox is a telephone pole bathed in a pool of light from a nearby streetlamp. He pushed me against the pole and lifted my skirt so that my bare ass was facing the neighbor’s house. My already soaked pussy flooded once more.
My exposed breasts were mashed against the wooden pole as entered me once more. I gripped the pole for balance as he pounded me harder and harder, digging his fingers into my hips, and growling in my ear. It wasn’t long before I felt his body seize up as he shot his load into my pulsing snatch. He held me closely as the last drop drained and then slowly released me as he withdrew his slick cock.
Standing there with my legs spread, I let his seed ooze out to the ground, marking our spot. It continued to run down my legs as we made our way back to the car so we could collect our things before going inside. Barely 15 minutes had passed since we had pulled into the garage.
I wished then that a camera had been available to capture the scene of our fuck for my #SinfulSunday post. Hopefully these words will suffice.

Epic Weekend: 6 Months Later

[This is a follow-up post to the tale of my Epic Weekend. Click here for part onepart twothe finale, and Aftermath.]


It has now been about 6 months since my wonderful, Epic Weekend. Six months since he broke me, before my closest friends and perfect strangers alike. I thought that perhaps you would want an update on the situation.

The two-hour drive home on Monday was fairly intense, and not only because every time I shifted in my seat, I was reminded of the bruises that covered my ass. My mind was churning with the myriad possibilities that could go along with this new change in our relationship dynamic.

I was beside myself with excitement. I felt like a whole new world had opened up for us. While I am truly naturally dominant, a part of me has always yearned to be submissive. I like to care for and spoil my loves, do whatever I can to make them happy. Until such point as it is expected. Then it becomes a problem for me. It is said that true submission is a gift and that’s how I feel about it. I will give it freely (when deserved and inspired), but once it is demanded I have none to give.

Very few people in my life have ever inspired me to want to submit to them. I’m not very good at relinquishing that sort of control. I need someone who wants to take control and can handle it once he/she has it. I need to feel loved and appreciated in my service. And I don’t ever want to be thought of as inferior or beneath someone. It has to be someone who loves and respects me as an equal even though I choose to submit myself. That may seem like a tall order, but I know that it exists. I’ve seen it in action and I’ve been party to it.

Before the events of the prior week and including the time just after he met our Diva, Roland had not expressed any interest in BDSM. He knew of my history, my avid interest in getting involved in the lifestyle again, and supported me in it, but he professed to not have any desire for it himself. In fact, he was quite adamant about his disinterest.

But one day he had an epiphany that his attitude toward it were due to feelings tied to a previous relationship where they had briefly dabbled in the lifestyle (at his ex’s request). Having that realization wrought a change in his feelings about it and he opened himself up to the possibilities.

All of that combined to form the perfect storm on the night of our first visit to the Woodshed. Everything fell into place.

So on the drive home, we did a lot of talking. He expressed a lot of uncertainty about how far he wanted to go. I explained that I was fully willing to go as far as he wanted to, up to and including 24/7 total power exchange (TPE). In my mind I was rapidly going through all the different ways in which I could give up control to him. I kept throwing out ideas for the rules and restrictions he could place on me, things to give me structure and discipline. The littlest details made me giddy, like the thought of sitting at his feet with the other subs at the munches. I think I actually squealed with delight thinking about it.

Looking back, I think I might have completely blown his mind and overwhelmed him. Here I was, someone who’d already had experience in this area despite having been dormant for so long, feeling like I had awoken from a deep sleep, ready to jump back into life again. And there he was, having essentially just opened a door to a practically new, unknown plane of existence. He just wasn’t ready for everything I was so eager to do.

What we, or rather what I, decided to do was to just try to behave as if our relationship was TPE. I would give myself rules and restrictions, things that I felt would please him. I felt that this would give him an idea of what it would be like, without him actually having to take control and figure out what he wanted me to do. I thought it might be the easiest way to show him what it would be like.

One of the things I started doing in the first week after our trip was going to bed when he did at night, instead of staying up online for an hour or three after he’d gone to bed. I would undress him from head to toe, starting with his shoes and finishing with his underwear. Once he was naked I would kneel before him to suck his cock. Then he would fuck me on the bed in whatever position he chose, and go to sleep afterwards.

I tried to wait on him hand and foot, pouting whenever he got something for himself. I let him make all the decisions about any plans. I didn’t talk back to him or verbally spar with him as I am wont to do. I called him Sir. Whenever I got home before he did, I greeted him at the door in prostrate position.

All of that lasted for less than two weeks. He just was not comfortable with it. He said that he was used to doing things for himself. He also said he didn’t want to get used to any of it, because he felt like at any moment I would decide that I didn’t want to do it anymore. He didn’t want to try to assume control in anything, because he expected that at some point I would rebel. He couldn’t get invested because he knew I am not truly submissive.

And as much as I would like for it to be otherwise, he’s right. To me, it’s a nice idea, but I just can’t do it all the time. I am a very willful creature. And moody. I can never be any one thing all the time. I can play at submission for a time, but it just doesn’t stick. It doesn’t come natural to me at all. Despite how much I love him and want to make him happy. How much I think I would enjoy his will being my own.

See, the first thing that got me interested in BDSM was the Sleeping Beauty trilogy by Anne Rice, closely followed by Exit to Eden (the book, not the atrocious movie adaptation). The idea of forced submission that I would eventually abandon myself to was my supreme fantasy. I longed for a Castle or Village or Eden island resort where I would have no choice but to submit to the will of someone else. Essentially a world that does not and cannot exist at this time.

Where are we now, you might ask? Well, I submit myself to him on the infrequent occasions when he tells me he wants it, in whatever fashion he chooses. It may be that he explicitly tells me. Or he grabs me by the hair at the nape of my neck to direct me. Sometimes he just gives me a look or changes the tone of his voice. And then I do my best to give him the gift of my submission. I don’t fight it, I allow him to take it in his own way. For now, that’s how it works for us.

Epic weekend: Aftermath

[This is a follow-up post to the tale of my Epic Weekend. Click here for part one, part two and part three.]

Although it’s been a while, the tale of my Epic Weekend didn’t end at the Woodshed. What happened afterward was just as important. So now let’s slip comfortably back into that weekend, starting with the limo ride back to the hotel…

What a night it had been. I was buzzing with endorphins, my head was firmly rooted in the clouds, and the cheeks of my face would likely ache as much as the cheeks of my ass, only from smiling. In the back of the limo on the way back to the hotel, I was completely melted against Roland. Although we had a full load of 5 other people, for the ride back to the hotel nobody existed but he and I.
We had the limo driver stop at IHOP on the way back to the hotel so we could get some breakfast to go. I was in no shape to to be seen in public, or even walk really, as I was barely more than a puddle of goo. Roland went in with the others to order food and I stayed curled up in the back of the limo, smiling and sighing contentedly to myself. It took about 15 minutes for the orders to be ready and then we were on our way again.
Upon our arrival back at the hotel and before eating, I went into the master bedroom that Roland and I were sharing to turn on the water to fill the huge, pillared jacuzzi tub. There really wasn’t a whole lot of conversation while we each ate our breakfasts, at least not that I remembered. All I remember is being warm and fuzzy and floaty. And giggly. So very giggly.

By the time we finished eating, the tub was full of steaming-hot water. Roland and I excused ourselves to the bedroom and closed the door. The weekend was originally intended to be one filled with group debauchery. However, partially as a result of the unsexy news I got on the Friday before the trip and mostly because of how close I was feeling to Roland right at that moment, we spent the rest of our time that night alone.

I truly felt like a queen in this room.

He and I didn’t have much need for words at the time. We each undressed and slowly slipped into the inviting water of the tub. Of course, I could only sit very gingerly on the bottom. The hot water reignited the fire in my cheeks and made it difficult to sit in the tub at all. However, the encompassing warmth was worth any suffering.

While I washed the makeup from my face, Roland massaged my shoulders. After my face was clean, I let myself fall back against him and his arms wrapped around me. We sat like that but for a few moments before drowsiness threatened to overtake us. The hot water was just so very relaxing.

Roland broke the spell first, reaching over me to get my shower poof, loading it with peppermint soap, and then scrubbing my back and shoulders with it. He washed each of my arms in turn. Next he methodically worked the poof over my chest and breasts while still sitting behind me. When he finished, he gently nudged me forward so that he could stand, taking my hand to signal that I should stand as well. He washed the rest of my body in a thorough manner, paying careful attention to my sore behind. He put his hand on my shoulder, applied light pressure to let me know I should sit, and then he washed himself.

Once we were both clean and rinsed, Roland again took my hand and stood, pulling me up with him. Still holding my hand, he stepped out of the tub and helped me out as well. He grabbed a nearby towel and used to it to dry me off before drying himself. He stepped forward and kissed me while leading me a few steps to the bed.

I broke our kiss and spoke for the first time. I asked if he would make love to me. That sounds cheesy, I know. But generally, our sex tends to be very rigorous and sometimes rough. What I wanted that night was for him to be slow and sweet and I told him so. He agreed and lowered me to the bed.

He took his time kissing me all over my body and trailing his fingertips over every square inch of my skin. I sighed, gasped, moaned, and whimpered. My whole body was awake and tingling. Finally after an unknown length of time, he moved between my legs and slid his cock into my pussy. We moved against each other, matching rhythm, with my legs wrapped around his waist and our lips locked together.

I had been playing with clit and was getting close to orgasm. He had pulled away from our kiss, standing up on his knees and I could see by his expression that he was close as well. Looking into his eyes, I made another request, “When we cum, will you tell me that I belong to you? That you love me? And say my name?” He looked a little confused and asked me if I did not already know. I replied that I just wanted to hear him say it.

Less than a minute later, the moment had arrived. As he thrust harder and faster, he looked into my eyes and said to me, “Did you not know… that even before tonight… even before the ‘Shed… you have always belonged to me. You are mine. I love you, Tonya.” As soon as the words were said, I burst into tears and we both exploded. There is no question that it was the biggest, best, and longest orgasm I have ever had in my life. My whole body quaked and shaked and the trembling afterward seemed to last forever. He collapse into my arms and for one of the few times in our history, we fell asleep almost immediately, entangled in each other’s arms.

The next morning (which was only a few hours later, actually, as the sun was just rising when we went to sleep) we were still wrapped around each other and I’ve never felt so close to him. We could hear the others moving about and packing up to go. Roland and I were going to be staying for another day, but everyone else had to return home that afternoon.

We went for a late breakfast/early lunch with everyone. All during the meal, I was in a state to which I am completely unaccustomed: I was giggly and blushy and bashful. I was practically Velcroed to Roland’s side. I felt like a young girl in love for the first time. Jane and Lucy had both known me for about a decade and neither had ever seen me behave anything remotely close to that. Everyone teased me incessantly, even our waittress, but all I could do was giggle and bury my face in Roland’s shoulder.

After we parted ways with the rest of the group, we went grocery shopping to get stuff for dinner because we planned to spend the rest of the afternoon and evening curled up watching movies in the room. It was just a quiet, relaxing time spent luxuriating in the newfound closeness in our relationship. As we didn’t get a lot of sleep the night before, we went to bed around 10pm, but not before making love once more.

It was the best ending for the best, most epic weekend of my life.

[Please, follow along as I tell you about what life is like for us 6 months after that weekend.]

Epic weekend: How he broke me, finale

[While each stands alone, including this one, you may want to catch up on parts one and two first.]
“It’s your turn now,” he said.
My heart skipped a beat at his tone. Of course I hadn’t forgotten that I’d asked him if I could be next. I just got a bit wrapped up in my scene with Tammy. I wasn’t expecting him to be right there, waiting to work my flesh. I giggled and shivered with anticipation. 
He stepped over to the array of implements laid out on the table from where I had just used them. Up until this point, he had only ever spanked me with his hand, except for the night of Valentine’s Day when he used my two floggers on me. Tonight I had added selections from a friend’s toy bag, so I briefly described the finer points of each and suggested an order in which they could be used. It was the same order I used them on Tammy, going from light and soft to heavy and hard.
Once his questions were answered, I asked him how much he wanted me to strip. He said I could go as far as I was comfortable. I took off everything but my stockings and my panties, stood on my tiptoes to kiss him, and turned toward the Cross. He didn’t bind me to it, I just leaned against it with my arms crossed in the V. I rested my chin on my arms, sighed contentedly, and waited for his lashes to begin.

He began as I had suggested, with the small black and blue suede flogger with twisted tails. I like this flogger for warming up, as I mentioned previously. Since it is very light, it offers more of a sting than a thud, which is my preferred flogger sensation. However, the stings made fast work of waking up the skin on my back, shoulders, and ass cheeks, although he did not use it for long as the weight was not to his liking. 

He skipped over the unwieldy bungee flogger and went for the purple and black buckskin instead. I loved the way each swing caressed my skin and left behind the slightest sting, but it was also not heavy enough for me. Even if he put his full force into it, he would never be able to hit me hard enough. That being said, each lash I received released tension in my neck and shoulders, relaxing me more and more. If it was a skill that I possessed, I would’ve begun to purr then.
After using the buckskin flogger up and down my back and across my cheeks for a while, he still was not satisfied. He put it to the side and reached for the tool that is the best extension of his arm: my heavy black suede flogger. While Big Green is my favorite for the sheer weight and force behind the tails, this flogger is the personal favorite of my collection. I love to use it on others and I discovered on VD that I love it to be used on me as well. Each swing is the perfect combination of thuddy blunt force and stinging bite. Although he never would, I believe that if he hit me hard enough, this flogger could break my skin and draw blood. 

A few strikes in, the first of many moans escaped my lips. I lifted my head from my arms so that I could uncross and wrap them around the upper arms of the cross, gripping them lightly. The best part of our session had finally begun. I was completely warmed up and my flesh yearned for for more. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Everything beyond me, him, the flogger, and the Cross pressed against my body ceased to exist. I alternated between melting into the wood and pushing myself away from it, to meet his strikes halfway.

It was not long before my skin was tender and extremely sensitive to even the most delicate touch. During a short break in his rhythm, he came in close behind me, grabbed one of my pigtails and pulled my head back so that he could kiss me. The touch of his soft, sensual lips on mine after the bite of the leather was such a contrast that it took my breath away. As he kissed me, he trailed his fingertips and nails across my back. My whole body shuddered as I moaned. I felt wetness drip out of my cunt to soak my panties. He let go of my hair and my head lolled forward. My chin nestled once again in the upper V of the Cross as he continued my beating.
Not long after that I guess he decided then that I’d had enough flogging (which is practically never possible), because the next thing I felt was a sharp sting on my ass. I didn’t know what it was, but it hurt like hell! For the first time I really flinched. Our scene took a definite turn from there. Before that moment, while there were some painful strikes, for the most part it was very warm and relaxing to me. This was altogether different. Instead of pushing my ass out to meet his strikes, I was pulling away from them. I went from lightly gripping the Cross, to grasping it, and digging my fingers in with each lick. My breathy moans became loud groans and cries. The first tears started to gather in my eyes and a few spilled over.

I don’t know how long he continued with what I only later discovered were just the tails of my favorite flogger (it FELT like a single tail!!!), but he stopped only long enough to quickly change implements. Next came a hard smack with my leather paddle. I didn’t have to look back to see what it was; I could tell by the sound it made. Again, this was an implement I loved using on others, but hadn’t had much experience receiving. My ass was on fire by this point and each firm slap only accentuated it. I tried to turn my cheeks away, but he planted his hand against the center of my back to hold me in place while he paddled me extensively.

I love seeing stars

A short time later, he lifted his hand and stepped away for a moment. I was trying to catch my breath when I was distracted by cries of real agony elsewhere in the dungeon to my right. I stole a glance in that direction to see if I could determine the source. My eyes were met by the asses of two young girls bent over a table. Blood was flowing freely down their cheeks. Instantly I became woozy at the sight and turned my head away. In addition I felt like a complete wuss for thinking the trials of my own ass were bad. Little did I know how much worse they were going to get.

My torture began in earnest then, as Roland was right there again, this time with the riding crop in his hand. As if he had radar to guide him, he set to smacking me with the crop all of the spots that hurt the worst, also targeting my super-sensitive, soft inner thighs. My tears leaked in abundance then, wetting my cheeks even as my pussy felt as if would flood. I writhed and jerked as he used the cane portion across the backs of my thighs and calves. When I danced from one foot to another, he immediately brought the crop down on the soles of my feet. Without actually leaving the cross, I tried to move my body as far away from him as possible, to free myself from the endless litany of his strikes.

What happened next is a moment that will be forever frozen in time in my heart and mind. I cannot imagine that the perfection of that one instant can ever be equaled. Thinking of it right now, more than two months later, sends shivers down my spine, blankets my skin in gooseflesh, and makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Roland stepped close enough that his body was against mine but barely touching. He put one hand on the back of my neck, leaned in to my ear, and uttered a barely-audible, single word, “Behave.”

With no hesitation whatsoever, I halted all movement. My tears stopped. Where my nerves had previously felt jangled by the pain I was undergoing, they were stilled. My pulse slowed and my breath eased. I calmly leaned against the Cross as I had in the beginning. Not an ounce of tension remained in my entire body. It was like I was a terribly wrinkled shirt that had been smoothed all at once. I have never in my life experienced anything like it.

I could not tell you a single thing about what he did to me after that. There’s no way for me to even begin to guess how much longer I remained on the Cross. All I remember is that eventually he was done. I only knew it was over when he came up behind me, turned me around, and enveloped me in his arms. I rested my head on his shoulder and I felt like I was home.

He held me and comforted me for some time and then tilted my chin up to face him. He tenderly kissed my forehead, my eyes, my cheeks, and finally my lips. He squeezed me tightly.

I started to shiver then, not with desire, but with cold. The world around me came back into focus and I realized I was standing mostly naked in the middle of a warehouse. I was also getting dizzy. “I need to sit down.”

Roland gently escorted me to a nearby couch after first grabbing a towel for me to sit on and a blanket to wrap around me. (The Woodshed is excellently supplied for aftercare and comfort.) He asked if I would like a cup of coffee and I only nodded, as I was not quite yet capable of speech. He returned in no time and I gladly accepted and sipped the hot liquid. I was a happy puddle of girl.

When I’d mostly recovered a few minutes later, I saw that he was protectively standing a few feet away, watching a fire-cupping scene at a nearby table. (Something I tried a bit later, but didn’t care for. A tale for another time.) I looked up at him and I felt that everything about my countenance exuded love. He finally looked down and noticed. With an embarrassed grin, he inquired, “What’s that face for?”

“This face?” I said, circling a finger around my visage. “You don’t recognize this face?” Again I circled.

“No, what is that?”

“This is my ‘worshiping you’ face, Sir,” I replied.

“Oh yeah?”

When I nodded to the affirmative, he told me to prove it. I asked how and he pointed to the floor in front of him. I was on my knees before him faster than he could blink an eye. I beamed up at him from my new lower vantage point.

He pointed to his feet. “Kiss them,” he commanded.

Without sparing a second’s thought about it, I leaned down and lovingly kissed each of his shoes. Never before had I publicly, or even privately, given myself over so willingly and completely to another. I had been broken. For the first time in my life, I felt owned. I felt like I belonged to someone. I felt like I belonged with someone. I felt whole.

[In case you missed it, he gave his perspective as well.]

Epic weekend: How he broke me, part 2

[Although this part stands well on its own, you may want to check out part one before proceeding.]
After more than two years of wanting to visit, I finally walked through the door into my first-ever public dungeon. Almost immediately I was on sensory overload. I got chills as soon as I entered. All I remember of those first couple of minutes are just sensory flashes: the colors red and black everywhere; the sounds of leather on skin and resulting moans; semi-loud, pounding industrial music; people in various states of dress and undress; and a large space filled with every piece of bondage equipment I could imagine. 
Master Penguin walked us through and gave a brief description of all of the major stations: the slave post, spanking benches, the Horse bench, the bootblacking bench, the St. Andrew’s Cross, the Stickman cross, the suspension pulleys, the cupping table, the waxing table. He pointed out all of the public toys and rope and the towels and cleaning supplies. As his two hot, young girls joined him, he took his leave and turned us loose. It was roughly 11pm, giving us approximately 5 hours until closing time.

We moved back toward the entrance and just stood there for several minutes, trying to soak it all in. My eyes could not rest in any one spot for long. I was so full of excitement that I quite literally could barely catch my breath. My body felt like it was humming and vibrating. There was just SO! MUCH! going on every where I looked. As crazy as it seems, the only thing to which I can compare it is Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory: first the opening credits of all of that yummy chocolate and then the scene where they go into the Chocolate Room where everything is edible. I just didn’t know where to begin.
“I need a drink of water,” I said and turned around to go back out to the lobby. Roland followed me, a slight look of concern on his face. Once we got to the refreshment room, he asked me if I was okay, because I was shaking. I grinned from ear to ear and took a deep breath. “Yes, I’m fine, it’s just a lot to take in!” He laughed and agreed. I got a bottle of water and he made himself a cup of coffee. Beverages in hand, we took a few moments to peruse the wonderful, hand-crafted implements available for sale in the lobby. I needed those precious moments to collect and calm myself a bit before I could go back into the dungeon.
When I’d caught my breath, we re-entered the dungeon. Once again I was assailed by everything happening at the same time. Since it was a Saturday night and one of the two dungeons was closed for a private group, it was extremely busy. Every station was occupied and the couches in the social area were full. Lucy and Alan were rooted to the exact spot where we’d left them, both with dumbfounded expressions on their faces. I knew that feeling well. I inquired about the others and was informed that Tammy went to go have a smoke on the back patio. Clayton and Jane went with her to get some air. Fresh, night air seemed like a fantastic idea at that moment, so I went to join them, leaving Roland, Lucy, and Alan behind.
The patio out back was really just a concrete slab with a few plastic chairs. Nothing fancy, but it served the purpose. I sat in a chair next to Tammy and read the same expressions of overwhelm on the faces of her, Jane, and Clayton. There wasn’t much chatter as Tammy finished her cigarette and we entered the dungeon again for the last time.
The other part of our group were still where we’d left them. My initial nervousness had finally worn off, so I was ready to play. I turned to Jane, asked if she wanted to get her ass beat. Her eyes widened and she shook her head. She said that there were too many people. I looked to Lucy next. She shrugged disinterestedly. Finally I asked Tammy, who immediately agreed. I picked up the toybag and headed in the direction of the “Stickman” cross.
The Stickman is a wooden bondage cross that looks exactly as you would imagine it: a wooden stickman with arms at shoulder-height sticking straight out to the sides. The benefit of the Stickman as opposed to the St. Andrew’s Cross is that your arms and shoulders are less likely to be fatigued since they are not held or tied up above your head. While Tammy stripped down to her panties, I opened the toybag and selected the implements I would use. She had shared with me earlier that she had never been flogged with a leather flogger, nor had she been beaten before by a woman. Both of these opportunities excited me immensely. 
Unfortunately, in our excitement we were talking too loudly and disturbed a trio who were participating in an intimate spanking scene on a nearby bench. One of the group came over to respectfully ask if we would mind lowering our voices. Knowing how boisterous Tammy and I could be, I thought it would be best to move to the St. Andrew’s Cross after all. In was in the far corner of the dungeon by the bootblacking bench. The entire area was unoccupied and there wasn’t anyone close enough to be bothered by us, therefore allowing us to speak in our normally loud voices. It also had the benefit of more room for the rest of the group to join us so they could watch our scene.
Before I could truss Tammy up to the Cross, we had to do something about her waist-length hair. She sent Lucy to acquire a bit of rope which she then used to tie up her hair. The rope was long enough that the leftover slack could be used to lightly tie her to the Cross. After I had laid out the floggers in the order that I wished to use them, Lucy and I bound her to the Cross at the wrist. I selected the smallest, lightest flogger and was about to begin. First however, I stepped over to Roland, who was sitting on the bench.
“When I have finished with her, will you beat me next?” I asked hopefully. He smiled and asked me if that’s what I really want. I said that it was and he agreed to do it. I beamed brightly at him and then practically skipped back over to the Cross and Tammy. 
I walked up behind Tammy and leaned in to speak softly into her ear to ask if she was ready. We discussed the standard “stop light” safety words: green for more, yellow for less/slow down, red for stop, blue for “I’m freaking out.” I explained the floggers I would be using and their progression from light to heavy. We were all set.
The first flogger was appropriately black and blue, very light with approximately 8″ twisted suede leather tails. It’s the ideal choice for warming up. I began to flog her across her shoulders and back in criss-crossing movements. I also flogged across her ass from side to side. I started off lightly and gradually increased the force of my swing. Her skin was getting slightly pink, but the flogger was too light to garner a whole lot of reaction from her.
heavy suede twisted flogger
twisted suede tails

The second flogger in line was a homemade black bungee flogger, made of many strands of thin black elastic rubber. Tammy said that she previous experience with a similar type of flogger. This was not one of my favorites because the tails were really long and there wasn’t a lot of balance. When using a properly balanced bungee flogger, you can get a very nice light stingy sensation, also good for use during warm up. It was hard to get good strikes, so I didn’t use this one for more than a few strokes.
bungee tails
The third flogger I used was one of only two from my own collection. It was a purple and black flogger with soft buckskin tails about 16″ long. This was is also light, but heavier than the previous two and well-balanced. With this one I was finally able to get a bit more reaction from her. I still wasn’t putting a lot of power behind my swings, focusing on her back and shoulders with occasional strikes across her ass cheeks. I leaned in to her ear to ask how she was doing so far. She replied that she was doing well, she liked it and could easily take more. I continued with the buckskin for a few moments longer, hitting her harder as I went along. Her body visibly relaxed against the frame and she gratified me with her first moans.
Now that she was warmed up, I moved to the fourth flogger, another (light) purple and black flogger. This was was much larger and heavier than the others. It had been made by a friend of mine and had long soft suede tails about 21″ long, with a thick handle. It takes a couple of swings to get used to but once you find the rhythm, the tails will fall directly down the back with a nice thud. Tammy’s moans were louder now, which made me enjoy it even more. My friend is a big guy and this flogger was made to fit his large hands, so I couldn’t use it for very long because the handle was too large to hold comfortably.
The fifth flogger was the other one of my floggers. It was a black flogger with tails of heavier suede than the one before, but the tails were much shorter than either of the two I’d just used. They are about 14″ long. This one is probably my all-around favorite. It is light to swing, well-balanced, fits well into my hand, and gives just the right combination of sting and thud, depending on how you strike. Again I started off rather softly and worked my way up harder and harder. Tammy’s back was beginning to turn a nice shade of red. I checked in with her again and she was at the point were words were becoming more difficult, but she had a very contented smile on her face to let me know she was okay.
The last flogger I used was the heaviest of them all, also made by and belonging to my friend. It was dark green, with heavy suede tails about 24″ long. If I am to be the recipient of a good flogging, this is the flogger I prefer. It gives the best resounding thuds and feels very much like a good massage. I grew a whole new appreciation for that as I used Big Green on Tammy. Several months ago, Lucy (who has been given the nickname Pixie due to her small stature), flogged me with it for at least 30-45 minutes, if not an hour. It was so amazing. I have no idea how Lucy was able to move her arm the next day after she’d flogged me! After throwing only a few swings with it, I could feel a dull ache in my wrist, arm, and shoulder. Because the tails are so long what I ended up doing was grabbing and holding the tails almost halfway down, just using the last 12″ or so. Tammy’s back had become the hue most commonly associated with a bad sunburn. After doing another status check on my puddly girl, I took a few moments to tease and tickle her flesh by dragging my fingernails all over her back. I was amply rewarded with giggles, gasps, and moans.
As much as I love to receive floggings, giving them is not my most favorite thing. Spankings are another matter altogether! I stepped over to my toybag and pulled out a few of my favorite spanking implements: a leather paddle with star-shaped cutouts, a rubber spatula, a wooden pizza board, a wooden spoon, and a long rectangular resin paddle with sandpaper on one side. Her ass had already been warmed up a bit with floggers here and there, but I still started her off easy with the leather paddle. Not taking any breaks from that point onward, I rotated my way through all of the selected toys. It wasn’t long before not only was she gasping and moaning, she was also giggling loudly. She flinched a bit with each swat and then wiggled it for more. When changing from one implement to another, I would trace my fingernails over her tender flesh, eliciting more sounds of pleasure. I did not stop paddling her ass until she had dark red blooms on each cheek. 
Approaching her for the last time to see how she was doing, all she could do was giggle for a moment. Finally she said, “I think I need a cigarette.” I wondered if she would need a bucket as well. I quickly released her loose bonds and massaged her arms, hands and fingers. Once she was free, I pulled her into my arms and gave her a big hug and kiss. I thanked her for allowing me to be the first woman to top her and also give her the first floggings. She thanked me as well.
When I turned around, there behind me was Roland. “It’s your turn now.”
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