How it is now..

Mr. came to see me. Dinner, ordinary family time, a movie on the television, that certainly didn't make me think of sex or SM. A film about sociopaths, the kind of film, that makes me almost physically ill, even though I know it is only a film and skilled actors. But my inner core turns into a knot of pain.. It has something to do with my past, but it has also to do with some kind of sensitivity, that I have. An empathic way to think and feel, that is definitely widening these days, with all the fantasies and all the experiences, I get.

I looked at him, and all of a sudden I saw the look in his eyes, that special look, that instantly sends cascades of shivers down my spine.. Because I know, what the look means. I had seen, he had brought his black bag, so I knew..

"A slut, who teases will be punished today. How many blows have you deserved?"

5, silence. I quickly corrected it to 10, together with the 10 blows, I saved up another day.. For making a noise last time he made me come.. For wiggling when I was told not to..

"I think, that first I will spoil you, just a bit.."

I felt his tongue, his hands, on my body, tracing their way towards my cunt.. I knew just as he knew, that my whole body was tense with excitement.. Tense with the pleasure of his touch, but just as tense with the expectations of what I knew, would follow..

Kneeling in the sofa with his body in front of me and his hands tightly round my hair, I suddenly felt a slap on my cheek, the first one a light one, and the shock that went through my body, when he did it. The next ones, harder, more painful.. And I heard his soft voice "My little slut.."

"Kneel in the sofa over the backrest, slut."

I felt how he quickly locked my hands on my back with the metal hand cuffs, hard and cold, a bit sharp, and not of the kind I can remove myself, if I wanted to. He gagged me, the ball in my mouth hard and just that little bit too big for it ever to be pleasurable or comfortable at all. But, well, that is the point, I suspect.. He chose the whip, my favourite of the ones he have, al least. It is also a point, that I am not allowed to choose if I want to feel the whip or the cane. The whip, that doesn't make the same beautiful marks as the cane.. The slut isn't allowed to choose when she gets to get her marks..

He whipped me, his one hand with such a tight a grip around my hair, it almost made tears roll down my cheeks.. 10 blows or more..? And the 11th, the hardest of them all..

"Now there is still 10 blows left for you to think about.."

His fingers then found my cunt. It was dripping wet and ready..

A picture, I like..

My beginning..

I have another blog in my native language, Danish. I started the blog because I had a growing need to tell someone, perhaps just a nonpersonal computer screen, about my secret life of BDSM. (Again, noone says that BDSM and exhibitionism is linked in any way..!) I am a very talkative person, of course I can keep a secret, but god, how it sometimes itches, to tell.. And keeping the secret of my new found life of kink made everything all twitch in my mouth. Many times I have thought of telling just one close friend my secret, but I still haven't got the nerve. Maybe this English blog is just a way to keep on telling without telling..

Well, I will tell you about me, and then perhaps a bit about the pleasures, I enjoy.. (This is meant as a tease, perhaps you guessed..?)

My life before BDSM lasted 38 years, I grew up in an average family, raised in a sheltered environment as the correct and polite big sister in a paternal Danish family with lots of inhibitions. I got an education, worked, lived serially monogamously, married, divorced, married, divorced, smaller children.. Boring sex, often no sex at all, innocent games, mostly when I was younger, with hand cuffs, rope, but without the ability or safety to give myself in to it. I mostly thought it was a bit funny, while I in the midst of it all was planning the grocery shopping I had to do the day after..

I was single again 2 years ago, after more than 2 years of considerations of whether my marriage would last, while fighting for it. So, when the divorce happened, I knew my state of mind well, and soon started dating. Normal, straight forward dating, some dates more succesful than others, a bit of sex, too. And then I met him..

His dating profile was different than the others, more than hinted something of a dark universe behind. I quote (and translate.. Sorry if I do a poor job of it, and sorry to say sorry, sorry if I am too self conscious..): I enjoy the psychological game in a relationship between a man and a woman, where the man leads the woman down a path, where she gives up her right to make her own decisions and lets herself fall into a state of pure pleasure and oblivion of self..

Honestly, I didn't quite know what to think about his words, but I was more than curious to meet the man behind the words.. The Date, the first date, was a dream, very special, an ordinary date with a walk in the park, coffee, lunch, the air so filled with sexual tension, that we would surely have ended up in his appartment, if we had had the time.. Instead it ended with a kiss, and a sense of falling in love..

After this my first date he initiated my training towards the universe of submission, masochism. Carefully, slowly, teasingly, skillfully he took me down the path where we still go, next to an ordinary life with each our children, two houses, being lovers and friends, girlfriend and boyfriend..

He was, he is, fantastic, formidable (Who said anything about being in love...) He has during the last 1½ year taught me more about devotion in passion and the pleasures in lust and pain than I have known for all the previous part of my life. He pushes me further and further down our path together, firmly, tenderly, determined, dominant, and he has total right of decision, over my erotic life. And all the way I have felt, how my lust for more, more experiences, deeper submission, just grows stronger and stronger..

I earlier hated beats on my ass, but now it turns me on like I never imagined, it could. From impatiently waiting for the ropes to be tied I now submit to the process, the feeling, the expectations, the devotion to him. As to the spankings, I love the whip, the tawse, the cane (and almost the flogger..), and I feel both proud and happy for the marks, it leaves on my skin, as a proof of my lust and my submission..

The way he touches my neck, the way his hands tightens their grip or pulls my hair turns me on immediately. It makes my heart pound, it makes my breath heavy, my cunt wet, for him. An arm around my shoulder, a look from his deep blue, burning eyes, a texted message, a mail.. I have never experienced so strong a need towards a man before, the need to give it all, the want, for more all the time, and I have never experienced the way it just gets better and better and better..

I call him Mr.

The one blogpost I already have, in English..

Well, I said I wouldn't reveal when I stole some of my old writings, so this will be the exception.. Hmm, I am not doing a very good job for now, doing what I say I will.. Very feminine submissive character treat, perhaps, making promises to resist, and doing a poor job at it.. At least it describes me quite well..

I was recently away on a short break with Mr, one of the nights striding around in a nice dress, the only one I brought, and my 7 inch work heels.  Friday evening sickness still hit me, falling sound asleep on the sofa. I hate it, when it happens, I feel like a bad girl in the wrong-not-sexy way, not available. On the other hand, fantasy, who wouldn't want to be woken up with hands, tightening their grip around hair, being told, that you had been bad.. In honesty, I actually think, he has tried, and to my embarrassment I probably treated the disturbance as if it was a fly or something else, being in the way..I have a job who has taught me to sleep anywhere at any time.. Nice job benefit, but sometimes, it gets the better of me..

Well, of course, that night I didn't treat him as a fly, I can't have, as he gave me the nicest back rub (and ass massage, too) for a long time. No sex, only tension in air, knowing, that he had planned things, and making me wait with tension all though my body, for what inevitably would come, the next morning instead..

Builds all kinds of tension in my body, getting nice massage, waiting for him perhaps to change his touch to something else completely, lying there waiting, hoping, for what doesn't come.. That night, he made me wait, and told me good night..

"Tomorrow morning, you will be tied up, to the beams in the ceiling..

Morning came, and I woke up very early, as always. I don't know why I always do that, being with him, but it must have to do with the fact that when he sleeps next to me, my body always stays somewhat alert. ´(Or perhaps a timed alarm clock..)And, I admit, always wake up next to him, feeling horny, being so quickly, very wet.. This morning, I was allowed, just shortly, to take his favorite first morning position, sitting on top of him, letting my cunt slowly lower itself down his cock..

"When you come up from downstairs again, I want you to put on your collar and your blind fold.."

So, I went downstairs, careful not to fall down stairs (has happened before, didn't want my buttocks bruised beforehand), put some wood on the fireplace, and came back up again.. Careful not to look too much into his eyes, knew they would be burning, and make my heart beat almost hurtful, if I looked too long.. I did as he was told, my fingers fumbling a bit with the buckle on the collar, blindfold easier, was put on my knees in the bed, in front of him..

Again I was told to sit on top of him, and sitting there, he tied up my hands, pulled my hands up over his head, and him knowing very clearly how I love the feeling of him inside me, he moved away from under my body..

He then pulled at the end of the rope that tied up my hands, pulling me and pushing me out of the bedroom, leashed, into the other room, warmer, and also with wooden beams..

He pushed me down on my knees, and sitting there, He tied my thighs together with another rope, so my cunt was hidden away and unavailable, and put metal clamps on my nipples..

Hearing my whimpering, he asked me, if it hurt, and I remembered, what he had said to me yesterday:

"Tomorrow, I will tie you to the beams, and I will want to hear you screaming, and I will go on after that.."

"I do not want you to count, I will spank you as long as I like with the cane, and you will not know, when I am going to stop.."

Remembering, I nodded, knowing, and not quite knowing, how far he would go..

Removing the clamps, he pulled my arms up, told me to stay on my knees, and stretched my arms so far up towards the beams, it hurt, and I couldn't help the whimpering sound, that came out of my mouth..

"Remember, Slut, I do this, not for your pleasure or for your punishment, I do this, just because I want to.."

And he did..

My cries out loud, it never felt like this before, it hurt so bad, I couldn't stop screaming, out in the quiet room, snow falling quietly outside, I was somewhere else.. With my screams, he sent me off,  and when he stopped at last, I still knew, I would always want more..

Need

I was lying there, my whole body almost trembling, of need, of lust, wanting so much to feel the pain. I felt the need of feeling him, the need of giving myself to him, letting him whip me, pinch me, torment me, torment my skin, my body, my buttocks.. A need so big, that I whimpered of need alone, felt how the need almost took, and takes away my power and strength..

A need so big that I sometimes just don't know what to do with it at all. On one side, it is humiliating to be such a slut in wanting the submission and pain so much, and being that slut, again and again and again.. On the other hand, loving the recognition of who I am, loving the pleasure of feeling the strenght in my very feminine lust.

I have never felt this way before, being so filled up by need in way so that I will never quite feel, I had enough.. Even when he hits me the hardest or most accurate, and I know I just can't cope any longer, the need is back again with the same strength, a few moments later..

As I was laying there, he let me. He let me feel the horse whip, again and again, on my buttocks, so they went warm and very red. They were still red, hours later. And they felt sore in a way so that I could still feel it when I next time went to bed. The tenderness of skin that always comes as a small surprise, when I lay down in my bed, until I remember.. Remember and feel the warmth flushing through every corner of my body, again.. the need.

The start..

Where do I start? With descriptions of my lovely morning, feeling his whip first, and his reward afterwards..? Of all the lovely things I have written about in my Danish blog? (No won't tell them now, but ruthlessly steal my own stories and experiences, when I have nothing else to tell about. And you luckily won't know the difference..) Will I tell you the things that makes me curious, or the things that make my cunt go wet by thoughts alone..?


Or do I start with the beginning? How I lived more or less without a sex life for several years, when I met my boyfriend, my Mr. How he tenderly, slowly, with the smoothest of touches, with caring, knowing, empathetic hands taught me ways of pleasure, I had never known before. Or had the skill to give in to.. 


I always used to think, that it was annoying if not just silly and unnecessary with the slaps in my ass I had been introduced to by other men. And now spankings are all over my fantasies, and my body quivers when the first blow hits me. I quiver from pleasure, expectation, need, and from wanting the hand, the whip, so badly.. I quiver from the way he changes mode during the spankings, mixing them with soft caressing touches, kisses.. And, I want it all..


I am now all woman with capital W, with a corset, with my own favourite toys. The collar, I love, the collar which implies that all resistance must go, when he puts it on.. Not that I am that good at resisting anything, I want it too badly to put up a very good act..


Or will I tell you something in a more philosophical way, the way many uses in their blogs, of the submissive woman, who almost completely gives up herself in giving herself up to him. To the man, who decides all for her, sexually, as well as in everyday life. And telling you in a way using intellectual reasons, explanations, excuses?


That is not who I am, I think? I am a woman with my own career and lots of responsibilities in everyday life, and with so much power in everything I do, that I enjoy giving myself and forgetting myself in the sexual submissiveness to him. But in an everyday life, Mr is my boyfriend, we are equals, he is my best friend, and we can, for instance when we cook together, talk just as well about politics, work, as of naughty fantasies..


Am I kidding myself? I am very good with words, such as defense mechanisms, intellectual interpretation, excuses, etc., and I could be just hiding behind words.. I can debate myself out of any situation, who am I to say, I am submissive, a masochist..


But, when he calls me his Slut, I am instantly turned on..


P.S. I don't need to say anything about being an exhibitionist, do I..