Pink Latex!? Really??

•July 22, 2012 • Leave a Comment

She told me she was going to do it, but didn’t mention it for awhile, so I just assumed she was teasing me. “L”, my long time online hypnotic Mistress, teased me a lot with all the ways she was going to “program” me and “brainwash” me. She was a very effective tease, lol.

Then one day she and a friend of hers and I were hanging out and I found myself blinking and feeling very giddy and happy and mostly like an overly energetic 12 year  old. It was embarrassing. I knew I was behaving in a way that was very different for me, but I couldn’t seem to stop it.

It turned out her friend modeled in SL for a latex store. We went shopping. No. They went shopping. I was skipping and giggling and absolutely crazy about all the slick, pink latex outfits. I wanted to be all shiny and as slick as a seal. I wanted, craved, to dress myself from head to toe in the pink latex and be pink for Mistress. It turned out, I was to get my wish.

Now, I knew it was a hypnotic suggestion. That is, I knew me acting like giggly teenager had to be a suggestion, but I didn’t remember getting the suggestion or it being triggered or being told to me or me agreeing to it. I apologized once or twice to her friend about my behavior. She took it in stride, and may or may not have been well informed on why I was behaving that way.

So, I got pink latex. Several outfits that I still have to this day. I was in heaven. It was pure bliss, serious, real bliss, like being on an emotional high. I dressed for Mistress and she teased me and we did naughty things, and possibly more hypnotic things (I don’t remember), but that somehow cemented pink latex in my mind as something that I craved.

Now, years later, having been free of her influence for quite some time, I still find it appealing. I no longer seek it out, of course, but when I see latex, I wish it was pink, and when I see pink latex, I think a LOT about what it would be like to be in it.

Over the next few months, she began trying to install a new personality in me. I already talked about the circle of statutes. That didn’t work so well. I couldn’t seem to get back there all that easily.

But something she did finally began to have a dramatic effect on me. Somewhere, I’m not sure when to be honest, I began to realize that she and I were having long conversations about me without “me” really being aware of it. Maybe I hinted or just right out asked her what was going on, I’m not sure, but her answer floored me.

She was talking to Pink. Pink was something or someone inside me (my subconscious??) who could hold discussions with her. I had no memory of these discussions, but I began to “hear” Pink.

So, what did Pink sound like? lol

Well, we all have inner thoughts. I can think something right now inside my head, and while I can’t hear it with my ears, I can hear it inside my mind. It’s my voice. It sounds like my voice. I know it’s my voice because I’m the one thinking it.

Pink sounds almost like the twin sister of my inner voice. Me, but not me. A me that is buried somewhere and that can sneak something out to me every now and then. At first it was just a feeling, a compulsion or craving, just sort of an indistinct desire that I should do something or say something. Later, though, I began to hear her. It really was like another part of me saying this or that. It was like a Header or Topic Sentence at first. The urge or compulsion would be consolidated to “her” voice with a simple sentence.

Later, I realized she was having an effect on me though. She was getting good at getting me to do things. She was even getting good at having me forget things I did until a later date. It turned out “L” was actually getting good at using Pink to do her bidding.

Just when it was getting interesting though, things came to a screeching halt. I was getting to the point where I was ready to give in, to surrender to Pink, to really let her control me. I was freaking out a little at the same time, worried I was developing something like a multiple personality syndrome, and couldn’t that be dangerous? But it was so incredibly, jaw dropping, panty wetting exciting that I couldn’t help myself. I wanted Pink to have control.

But “L” as it turned out had met someone in RL. She had wanted to meet me, of course, but I was in a serious relationship and one of the rules was for us both was no meeting anyone from the internet unless we both agreed and met them together.

“L” is still involved in her serious relationship, and I’m still involved in mine. We’re both happy, but we both wonder. . . .

If things had been different, if we’d met in RL, what would’ve happened?

Pink Latex?! Really? (cont’d)

•July 7, 2012 • Leave a Comment

I spent over a year hanging out with “L” on Second Life, usually  , dizzy and completely turned on.

There’s a certain sensation when you wake up and realize that you don’t remember anything, but you’re dripping with arousal, and that you have been utterly controlled.

I usually wander around Second Life visiting new Sims and checking out old favorites. It’s interesting and sometimes really boring. Every time I saw “L” come on, I’d be in heaven from almost the first second.

Sometimes we just hung out and chatted, which was nice, because I think in the long run it helped me trust her more. It wasn’t *just* about hypnosis and control. We got to know each other, and thankfully, we both got to really like each other. Which, um, of course, only made me trust her more, which may have made all her suggestions more effective.

I do once remember hanging out with her and chatting with friends that we both knew. We had not done any hypnosis at all and I wasn’t feeling submissive or tranced out, except the usual excitement of just being around her. While we were all talking (can’t remember if I was talking or someone else), she blew in my ear told me she was blowing away all my thoughts. lol

There in front of everyone. I felt blank, sort of, but mostly I felt sort of trapped, like of like I’d been frozen. They kept on chatting, but I wasn’t paying attention to any of it, but I DO remember someone finally (not sure how long I was stuck like that) saying something about me, although I don’t remember what. I remember “L” replying, “Oh, she’s not in trance, but she could be with just a nudge” or something like that. And she was completely right. I had no idea what anyone had said while I was blank, but I finally just sort of came out of it, and of course I was completely turned on.

Somewhere along the course of the year, I remember being very deeply under and I guess she decided to turn me on to pink latex. To tell you the truth, I’ve never been turned on by latex at all, much less pink. I don’t think I gave it a thought one way or another. Now, when I’m trying to remember how I actually felt back then, I can only remember how I feel now, which is I think it’s sexy, all slick and shiny, and very female. But I’m certain I didn’t used to feel that way.

Anyway, she spent a lot of time “programming” me, and we went on a few shopping trips, and I found myself in RL wondering how much it cost and what it would feel like to wear. I still have all the pink latex outfits I got on Second Life (I never bought any in RL), but when we parted ways, I never wore them again. Except when I see her. Then I get a craving, but although I still think it’s very sexy, I don’t wear it anymore.

I also remember some other “programming” sessions. One was very vivid. I had things I had to say, chants, when I heard certain phrases. Like “Obedience is bliss, bliss is obedience” when I heard “bliss” or “obedience”. I know I had quite a few, but I can’t remember them all now. “All is Goddess Goddess is All” was another. She spent a lot of time “blissing” me out, and once I remember seeing her sitting across me with her legs crossed and there was this pink mist streaming from her into me and filling me up. I remember my head being filled with pink fog and feeling absolutely amazing, but also “pink” as she described it.

Another time, I remember floating down out of the sky into a ring of statues, and they were in all different positions, but all looked like me. There was one pedestal free and she asked me to get on it. When I did, she snapped her fingers and told me I was frozen there, then she began to speak to another statue, bringing it to life. I guess the idea was to create other personalities, bimbo, slave, doll, etc. I don’t think that one worked so well.

She changed her methods though. She introduced me to someone she’d played with before and put her to sleep and woke up another personality in her. So I talked with both of her personalities not only then, but a day or so later when “L” wasn’t on. One of her personalities knew about the other, but the other one didn’t. Sort of a multiple personality kind of thing.

Then she did it to me. I was certain it wouldn’t work, and for awhile it didn’t, but “L” was resourceful and finally figured out a way to talk to “pink” without me knowing.

(to be continued)

Pink Latex!! Really?!

•July 4, 2012 • 2 Comments

So, now that I’m “offline” in a way, of course, all the juicy things that could happen threaten to happen. I’ve also been thinking back on all the exciting things that I’ve been through on Second Life.

Awhile back, I had an online Mistress. I’ll try to remember all the details. We met at a place called Hypnodolls. I was teasing someone I’d just met, a girl who was dressed in a very tomboyish fashion. I’m not much of a hypnotist, but I’ve learned a few things after being put under a gazillion times, and I was using it on my new friend (who would go on to be one of my best friends on SL). I was sweetly trying to seduce her into putting on a skirt and heels and looking a little more girly.

That’s when this woman with pink hair, dressed in pink latex started messaging me. I don’t remember what we talked about really, but there was an instant connection. We both liked each other right away. More importantly, from the first second we started chatting, I felt like I was under her spell. My mouth dried up. I got real speechless (and I’m normally anything but speechless), and I felt these little “tugs”. They were pulling on me, like I was treading water in a calm blue ocean and something was pulling me down into the dark murk, mmm, but hypnotically or submissively (so to speak).

We chatted for a bit about my interest in hypnosis and her interest in hypnosis, about my interest in being under someone’s control and her experiences in controlling. It was awhile back, so I can’t remember all the details. I *think* she had to go and so we said our farewells, but added each other as friends.

A week or so later, I was hanging around Hypnodolls again, but hadn’t gone in. I really wasn’t in the mood to be hypnotized (a shock, I know! :P ), and I saw her inside (let’s call her “L”), and I had all my “see me” friends off, so I could be anonymous. Anyway, somehow she noticed me and sent me a message. Busted! lol She was nice about it though, and we started chatting again, and I went from “not in the mood” to sitting in an wide open green field with her, sitting across from her, staring into her pink eyes while she spoke to me.

I don’t remember anything!

She didn’t do the usual induction. To this day, I don’t know what she did or how she did it. We just talked and I felt tugs and nudges and just the way she’d say things or the tone she used or maybe it was that amazing connection we had, but soon I was totally heavy and staring at her, all dizzy and lethargic and my eyes closing for long minutes with all my effort to open them again to catch her next message.

It went only downhill from there for me, lol.

She was always sweet to me. She never barked a command or did what a lot of Dommes do. She didn’t have to. She was inside my head, knew me from the inside out, knew exactly where all my hot buttons were and pressed them delicately, softly and continuously.

As we were getting to know each other, she told me what her plans were for me.

Now, I’ve played with Doms and Dommes, and they usually like to collect subjects. They like harems, big groups of slutty girls under their command, and a girl like me who loves attention (at least on SL) gets lost in the crowd. “L” may have played with others, but I always felt like she had a special fondness for me. I never felt like I was in a crowd. I was her one and only focus and I couldn’t get enough.

She told me what she planned and it was this: She was going to spend the next few months chatting with me online in whatever SL sim we ended up. She was going to hypnotize me, getting me deeper and deeper, and responding more and more automatically, building trust. When I knew she wasn’t going to hurt me or abuse me or try to interfere with my RL world, she would sense it. Then, she said, she was going to begin brainwashing me in earnest. After a few months of this, she would release me and give me a choice: get brainwashed all the way into her obedient pet or become friends and just have fun with hypnosis.

Along the way, I met other girls she’d played with. They were almost always dressed in pink latex. She had a fetish for it. I didn’t. That wasn’t a problem though, she explained, because I *would* have a fetish for pink latex. She would see to it.

We had lots of discussions about what it meant to be her pet, plaything, unthinking, obedient slave. I explained that if all she wanted was some blank, obedient doll, there were plenty around. No, she said, it wouldn’t be like that. I’d still be me. I’d still have my feisty, smartass personality, but from the moment I saw her online, I would begin to think in terms of her first. I would begin to believe the things she told me in a deep down way (at my core). If she mentioned offhand that *she* loved pink latex, I would simply begin loving pink latex as well, and she wouldn’t need to put me in a trance. I would be conditioned by then to obey her through waking trances, and since our rapport was so good, I would find it easy.



Now, I doubted that could really happen, of course. I met girls that were “pinked out” by her (as she put it), so I got a sense of where she wanted to take me, but I still thought, “she’s never going to get me to that point”. But “L” knew that I hoped not-so-secretly that she *would* get me to that point. She knew I found the idea hot and exciting, so she wasn’t worried.

Anyway, it was so exciting, so hot that I couldn’t exactly resist. And she was VERY good at keeping me all hot and bothered, putting me under constantly, sometimes with an induction I could spot, mostly without anything I could see, and in varying levels. Sometimes, I’d blink my eyes, my mouth dry, my body all sunk down and heavy in the chair, feeling incredibly groggy, and I’d know I was under deep. But lots of times, I wouldn’t exactly be aware of anything but the fact that I was happy and feeling good and a little light in the thought department. lol Just sort of dizzy a little, but not dizzy. Just not thinking a lot, but *very* focused on her word (and I think following her around like happy little puppy most of the time).

But she also taught me and had me practice something that ended up being crucial to my future “pet-dom”. I practiced it a lot, even though I didn’t know I was practicing it. She worked with me a lot, even though I didn’t realize that was what she was doing.

She taught me to forget.

(to be continued)


My Second Life is a Life on Hold

•June 28, 2012 • Leave a Comment

ImageI’m on hold, just so you know. I have been for months. On one hand, I’m a little antsy because I haven’t been getting the control I’ve needed. On the other hand, being told to stop is being controlled. It’s a weird catch-22 or maybe it’s more like the Genie’s wish. I got what I wished for; I’m just unhappy at the results.

About a month ago, maybe longer, my boyfriend and I were discussing our online lives. We had an agreement that what happened online stayed online. He could sex chat and watch cams and do all sorts of things and I was okay with that. In return, I could go on Second Life and submit and get hypnotized and get all those sweet feelings of control. We agreed on limits. He wasn’t allowed to give out his phone number and talk to women he’d met on the internet, though he could Skype and do that sort of thing. I wasn’t allowed to cam or voice chat on SL.

Every now and then, we would discuss what we’d been doing online. He told me a couple of months ago that he’d been having regular “virtual” sex with a girl he’d met in a chatroom. They’d had a lot of fun with Skype, cam and so on, but they hadn’t exchanged phone numbers like we agreed. She was married, lived far away and neither of them had plans to meet or take things further. I listened and felt a little pang of jealousy every now and then, but the truth was we’d agreed to it. The other truth was that I was getting plenty of sex. A lot of times, I could tell he’d been playing online, because when I first saw him, he’d be all charged up. The virtual-ness of the sex left him craving someone real. It was good sex, too. I won’t deny it. I really enjoyed it. As much as I hurt a little that someone else was turning him on, when he turned that attention on me, I got real happy in a real way. Sometimes he’d just take me. A couple of times it was almost wordless. He’d see me and I’d see that look in his eyes, that narrow-eyed intensity, that look that made me shiver like I was a lost little lamb and he was the big bad wolf, that look that made me feel like he wanted to eat me up. It was a lot of pent up need and I was there for him, and I felt submissive and good. I was his girl in every way. I would’ve done anything. I’m scared to death of anal sex, but if he’d said the word or just flipped me over, he could’ve had me. I would’ve taken him in my mouth, on my face (which I dislike), anything he wanted.

It was good.

But then came my turn to describe my online activities. I described meeting a new Master online, being hypnotized, finding myself suddenly and inexplicably turned on by being a maid in his SL house. I’d never had that desire before, so I’m convinced it was something he was putting in my head, because he wanted it there and I was suggestible enough to accept it in my subconscious. SL had a “Maid Kit” complete with water spills and a sponge to clean it up, cobwebs and a duster, dust and a rag, and I think there was a mop as well. I also got a broom. When Master wasn’t on I was asked to go to his place first thing every time I logged on and “clean up”.

None of this was bad. My boyfriend laughed at everything and I could tell he didn’t get it. I felt submissive when I did these things and when my Master was online, I liked kneeling and being ordered around. My Master was into Clothed Male Naked Female (CMNF), which I’d never heard of before, so we visited sims where I would have to be topless, which was fun because it was a little embarrassing and he made sure to keep calling my attention to it.

My only complaint was that my new Master was just that  . . . “new”. New to being a Master and was having to learn how to truly take control of me. He spent a lot of time discussing what he was going to do to me, but not actually doing it, and he only really took a good firm hand in controlling me every now and then. I tried to explain that it was his needs I must meet, not the other way around. He could and should ignore me, sell me, spank me (privately or publicly), use me, lend me . . . or whatever he wanted. He discussed building a harem and asked if I wanted to be the head “girl” so to speak. I told him, no, even though I was his first slave, it would probably be better if all the other girls / slaves / companions treated me as if I were the bottom rung on the ladder.

Everything was fine, until I mentioned giving Master “virtual” blow jobs. Then I could see my boyfriend’s face tighten. He asked if I did it when I was hypnotized. I said, maybe, I can’t remember. I may have been hypnotized to do it, but I’d given virtual hand jobs and blow jobs before. Sheesh, I’d had virtual SL sex before and he knew that, right? We’d talked about it. But I was reasonably certain that more than once I hadn’t been in a trance, but just feeling submissive and had gone down on Master.

“How real did it feel?”

“As real as it can feel, I guess, being online.”

I could tell he was upset and didn’t like it. It was the next day on the phone before we talked about it again and I asked why it bothered him. He said he didn’t know, but it did.

So, I asked if he wanted me to stop, and he said “yes”. What parts did he want me to stop? Did he want me to stop all virtual sex or just blow jobs or what? He couldn’t say exactly. He didn’t like any of it. But I’d had a Mistress before and a Master before on SL, and they’d both done hypnosis. He said the Master before had felt different and it had been a long time ago, and the Mistress didn’t bother him. I wondered if it was just the fact that my new Dominant was male. The answer was a tentative, “Yes, that’s definitely part of it.”

So, I stopped. We renegotiated. I can play on SL. I can still be hypnotized, but still no voice or cam. I can use all the hypno-machines I want. I can still have virtual sex, but no Masters or Mistresses for now.

Before anyone complains, I asked what about him? He was seeing this girl (in a way), a married woman. He said they wouldn’t Skype anymore, for now, for awhile. What about cam though? He said, for now, no cam.

For how long? Well, so far it’s been a couple of months.

I feel like I’ve been bad. I need a spanking in the worst way. :(

My relationship(s) . . . and me.

•March 21, 2012 • 1 Comment

ImageSo, I’m in one, and I thought I’d explain how it works for us. First, we met through a friend. His friend, actually. I’d dated him, but we hadn’t worked out, but his friend had seen my picture and (according to out mutual friend) begged to meet me. lol So that’s not true or maybe it is. My boyfriend won’t admit to it in any case. According to him, he thought I was cute in the picture but our mutual friend wouldn’t shut up about me and decided we should meet. Anyway, it’s all a jumble, and I don’t know who’s telling the truth, but I admit, I do like thinking that maybe someone was begging to meet me.

We met at a friend’s house. A Halloween party. Neither of us had dressed up, though some people had. I was actually there with someone, another date that was the kind of guy you hang out with, but you both know it’s not going anywhere serious. A week later I get a call and he’s asking me if I remember him from the party, and I’m saying yes, but how did he get my number and he goes into a big long apology about how he got it from his friend and he was sorry to call me out of the blue, but he was wondering if we could get together.

I said no. lol I didn’t know him. We’d only had a few words at the party, and he seemed nice enough but I was kind of creeped out that some guy had my number and I hadn’t been the one to give it to him. I could tell he was feeling really bad, but he asked if he could call me again sometime and just talk and I said I wasn’t comfortable with that. But then I started to feel kind of bad, because . . .  well just because, so I gave him my yahoo email address and if he saw me on, he could send me a message.

He did, and I messaged back, and we started texting and I liked him. He was funny, not creepy, and he sold himself pretty well. He felt like a good guy. So when he asked me out again, I felt I knew him better and we went and hand coffee and we ended up staying and talking until Starbucks threw us out. Then we sat on their patio, holding onto our empty coffee cups and making excuses for why we both had to go and get up for work in the morning and it was late, but neither of us wanted to go or be the one to say, Okay, this time for real.

Anyway, we hugged goodbye and he told me he would call me in three days. Why three days? Because, according to him, that was not too soon so I thought he was needy or desperate, not too long where I would get pissed thinking he didn’t care and just enough time for me (me!) to think about and re-think about everything we’d talked about so I could get my list of questions and concerns together.

I drove home in a big mix of confused emotions. On one hand, I had a tight feeling in the pit of my stomach and chest and I was smiling and blushing and I knew I liked him. He was nice. He was funny. He looked at me with bright, intelligent blue eyes that sparkled when he smiled, and that made me want to turn away because it was almost too much. On the other hand, who the fuck did this guy think he was telling me how I was going to think and re-think about our conversation and basically be all girly and second guess everything and start worrying and interrogating him on our next date??? On still another hand, I knew he was right and it pissed me off. He knew, the bastard. He knew what I was going to do and he told me what I was going to do and I knew I was going to do it, but it was sort of insulting.

And still the last hand . . . he’d said he’d call in three days, and that felt like a sort of final order, a command. He was in control, and as small and childlike and as irritable  as that made me, that other part of me was in heaven.

Long story, short, we’ve been together over a year and things are going pretty well.

Short story, long, early on, we talked about us and the internet and porn and sex and virtual sex and so on. I hinted at a lot of things with hypnosis, but finally managed to come clean about spankings and being controlled. He came clean about loving webcam girls and online roleplay. So, we struck a deal. We would have rules.

First, each other came first. If one of us asked the other to see chat logs or to talk about what we’d done, we’d be honest about it. He told me about having a crush on this cam girl that did shows and what a thrill he got when she mentioned his nick during live shows and told me about hanging out in chat rooms and having cyber sex with girls. I teased him about the fact that they probably weren’t really women. lol

I came clean and told him I’d been submitting as a sub on Second Life to a Mistress who did all sorts of things, including um hypnotize me and make me serve her, etc. I recently told him about someone I’d met on SL who wanted me to be his slave and that I was doing it and how exciting it was.

The other rules we had were simple. It could take place on the internet, but we could not talk to them on the phone. I wasn’t allowed to do any webcam chats or live voice chats, and I had been doing them until he said that, mostly hypno stuff, which I miss because frequently someone would play back video of me under and doing something i had no memory of. Can you say “mmmm”, scary and oh such a turn on!

So, basically it can be virtual but it can’t be too real. So far, it’s been working pretty well. I admit. I’m a little jealous of this young little cam girl that makes him blush, but it’s hard for me to complain because more than once he’s come to bed and woken me up by basically rolling me over and putting himself inside me. I’m usually a girl that loves loooong foreplay, all day foreplay, but I admit, getting woken up that way has been amazing. I am literally just waking up and feeling him inside me before the pleasure starts hitting me, then I’m so hot. I feel like I have a fever and I’m all relaxed and all melted away and he just does what he wants to do and it’s wonderful.

I worry about what he thinks about my SL Master. It’s not easy to find an online Dominant or hypnotist that doesn’t want to call you or get pictures of you or get you on cam. But I also worry about him. His little cam girl is younger, cuter and has a much better body than me. I mean, she’s in Canada and she has probably hundreds of admirers, so it’s not like he’s really going to get anywhere with her, but it still nags at me a little.

Other than that, we really enjoy being together. We still like talking. He’s still funny. And he’s still promising me more spankings. I haven’t had any recently, but I haven’t pressed him on it either since we’ve both been working non-stop.


An Xmas Spanking?

•January 18, 2012 • 3 Comments

So, the Holidays have come and gone and I’m still here and the relationship is going well.

A few notes about him: First, he’s a nice guy. I remember meeting someone like him when I was in college and thinking to myself, “Oh, come on! NO ONE is THAT nice!” I did not want to date the college guy, because…maybe I wasn’t ready for nice yet. Now I am, and I lucked into a guy who is sweet, thoughtful, cares about me, listens to me (though I know he struggles when I’m rambling away) and most of all wants me to be happy. It’s easy to take him for granted and just assume that he’ll always be there and that he’ll always put my happiness before his own and so on.

But he is gone a lot because of his job, which can be nice because I have time to myself, but also difficult because it seems like we try to get all our relationship in during short periods of time. It makes me miss him more than I remember missing anyone, and it makes a lot of things more difficult. I feel a little guilty complaining about his job and his absence, because I can see he loves what he does and he’s really good at it, and when was the last time you met someone so lucky? And what am I supposed to do? Ask him to give up what makes him happy to make me happy? That wouldn’t work either, because then he’d be unhappy, which would make me unhappy. So we’re kind of stuck, but that’s not what I really wanted to write about.

We had our Xmas, a little late because he was out of town (sigh). It was just me and him and I wasn’t feeling particularly attractive. Brownies, pie, ham, potato salad…I was a fat little Xmas piggy. But we were cuddling in front the Xmas tree, and it was nice to feel his warm body next to mine, to curl up into him, feel his chest rising and falling, and the deep rumble of his voice (gives me shivers when I can feel it under my fingers and in my ears).

It was New Years as well, and I guess I’d been introspective about us. I was talking about my New Year’s resolutions for me and for us. I don’t remember every detail of our conversation or how we got into it, but it went something like this:

Me: I want to be a better girlfriend.

Him: Not possible.

Me: No,  it’s possible. I could be more understanding, more patient, more trusting that we’re okay when you’re not around…

Him: Maybe I should be a better boyfriend.

Me: Not possible (um, okay a little possible, but I didn’t say that).

Him: Very possible. I could give you more of what you need, try to be around more.

Me: I want you here, but I want you to be who you are, too, and that means being away–

Him: I’m looking at a way to be away less.

Me: But I don’t want you to give up what you love.

Him: I wouldn’t, but that’s not what I meant.

(Seems like he had a phone call in here somewhere. Can’t remember where exactly. Work stuff? On New Year’s Eve?)

Me: What did you mean?

Him: I meant the “other” stuff.

Me: What other stuff?

Him: Spankings, bossing you around like you like.

Me: Oh.

Him: I’m always terrified I’m going to hurt you.

Me: I’m not some delicate fragile thing. I can take a lot more than you think.

Him: But I like thinking of you as a delicate thing, because I can protect you.

Me: I meant, you’ve never once really even come to close to really hurting me when you spanked me. I mean . . it hurts, and I don’t like it, because it stings, but it makes me feel amazing.

Him: And the bossing around.

Me: That makes me feel like a bad little girl.

Him: You are a bad little girl.

Me: Am not.

Him: Are, too. You must be if you’re getting a spanking.

Me: Hm, that’s true.

Him: I can never quite figure out when is a good time though. I’m not sure how to get into it.

Me: I’m not sure, but it’s like when you’re starting something. I’m not always really turned on at first, but I get turned on pretty quick once you start something.

Him: Yeah, okay.

Me: It’s weird, because I can’t tell you I need this right now, because it’s not spontaneous. It sort of spoils the magic when I tell you to do this and that.

Him: You just want it sprung on you.

Me: Yes, but . . I guess I want there to be a reason behind it, too. If I’ve annoyed you or just said or done something that makes you, whatever, then that would a reason.

Him: Hm, like the other day when you were helping me picking out curtains?

Me: I annoyed you?

Him: Well, I picked something out and you said I couldn’t use that, because those were bedroom curtains.

Me: (They were.) Well, but I thought you brought me along for advice, to help you pick something out?

Him: I did.

Me: But, so, I gave you my advice. (Getting a little heated here, lol).

Him: You did.

Me: But, I annoyed you.

Him: A little.

Me: But–how can I annoy you if I did exactly what you asked me to do?

Him: You just did, so maybe you should get a spanking for that.

Me: (speechless here)

Him: This is what you just asked for, isn’t it?

Me: (gulp) Um . . I don’t know, sort of, maybe, not exactly.

Him: Well which is it?

Me: I was trying to help. I thought you wanted my help. The whole reason you brought me along was to help you pick something out.

Him: Oh, I know. Why don’t you turn over?

Me: Why?

Him: You know why.

The sensation here is hard to describe: it’s sort of like the pit of my stomach is all stressed and churning; I get that funny empty aching feeling in my chest; my face is hot; it’s total dread and stress . . but everything between my legs and ears is in total “turn on”. It’s a weird, conflicted feeling.

I turned over and showed him my horribly fat bottom (not feeling very sexy).

Him: Are you going to do this halfway?

Me: No.

So he and I sort of persuaded my body to drape across his lap. We were on the floor anyway, the Xmas tree lights twinkling.

Him: I thought you said you like it when I put your arms behind you.

(Getting quiet now, can barely breathe, and I’m on my stomach over his leg, too.)

Me: I do.

(I stretched my arms behind me, which really made his knee cut into my stomach, cutting my off breath.)

Him: I think this would be better with your pants down.


(I start to kneel up, but he has his hand on my back and he sort of nudges me, doesn’t push me exactly, but I get the message.)

Me: I thought you wanted me to take my pants off.

Him: I didn’t say anything about getting up, did I?

(I am silently cursing him, because he’s making it difficult for me. Intellectually, I’m thinking, “Not fair”. My body is thinking, “mmm, good, perfect”.

(So, across his lap, I squirm to get my hands under my tummy, which is probably pushing my ass up, so I’m sure he loved that. I unbutton, unzip and push my pants down, exposing my ass, and he gets to see I’m wearing his favorite thongs just for him. He said he liked the little bow on the back.)

His hands are on my ass almost right away. It’s very nice and warm. He reminds me of my arms again, because I forgot and folded them under my head. I try to squirm a little to get my tummy off his knee so I can breathe, but I really strain to keep them behind my back, because it’s not really a natural or relaxing position.

He’s giving me little slaps, not hard at all, and I’ll admit, I’m getting a little disappointed.

Me: But what did I do wrong?

(Is this me tempting him?? Or am I really thinking it’s all so unjust??)

Him: It was the way you did it.

Me: I gave you my opinion, which you asked for. How should’ve I done it?

(If I was tempting him; it worked. But I really am thinking I didn’t do anything wrong. He starts slapping me here. And it’s hard. And  I can feel the stinging of his hand on my cheeks. He’s alternating between them, but he’s hitting me right where I’m fattest, so it’s not really hurting that much .. yet.)

Him: You should’ve phrased your opinion as a suggestion, not some all-knowing edict.

(O-kay. . .)

He goes on slapping me sort of randomly, and I’ll admit, my cheeks are warming up. He’s not really hitting them very hard, and I think I lost track of time, but my ass is starting to kind of burn a little and feel raw. I guess the nerves are getting sensitive. I think he’s been slapping me for several minutes now (probably only a minute, but it feels like it’s going on forever).

Me: I’m sorry if I put it that way.

Him: Don’t apologize.

Me: But–but–

(Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Get punished, admit your guilt and be forgiven)

Him: I’m not through yet. You can apologize when I’m done.

(He’s shaking his hand between spanks. I feel extra bad because my bottom is hurting him.)

He’s still slapping, but now he’s hitting only my right cheek and it’s getting very close to feeling like it’s on fire. It’s hot and I’m really squirming and trying to keep my arms behind me and trying to find a comfortable place for my head and trying to stay still, but it’s all such a struggle. I can’t get comfortable and I can hear myself making those little noises every time he hits. I’m making that noise that you make when you breathe through your teeth and say “eee”; it sounds like steam escaping.

Then I make the noise before he even hits me, and he sounds really cross.

Him: Wait until I hit you, Goddammit!


Me: Sorry!

Him: Don’t be sorry, just do it right!

Oh, God,  I am totally melted. This is heaven. I feel like I’m totally his, and I never want to leave. It goes so deep inside me that I can’t even put it into words. It’s not words or thoughts; it’s all feeling, all through me and I’m completely liquid where it counts.

It goes on like this for a while, and then we just both sit there (well, I lay there), breathless.

I don’t dare say a word, because I know when I’m done. My right cheek is just pulsing with heat. I can feel it all the way up my side. It’s like every nerve ending has re-routed itself to connect to my burning bottom.

Him: You can apologize now.

(I want to salute and say “Yes, Sir” without any humor, but I also don’t want to set him off again, because there is no guarantee he’ll spank my left cheek instead of my right, and my right cheek is as done as a Thanksgiving Turkey.)

Me: I’m sorry.

Him: For what?

Me: (gulp, he’s going to make me talk more and risk setting him off again) For talking to you that way.

Him: What way?

Me: Like . . . like I was an expert on something.

Him: No. I don’t mind that you were an expert. It annoyed me the way you said, as if your opinion were absolute. You patronized me, too.

Me: I didn’t mean to.

(His hand falls hard on my poor bottom.)

Him: I thought you were going to apologize.

(But I DID! Okay, okay…)

Me: I’m sorry for being so . . . expert, like I knew better than you and you just didn’t know or couldn’t know or like you were stupid. That’s now how I meant to say it.

Him: I know. Next time, just be more gentle about it. Don’t tell me things like that. You can suggest them, and no patronizing.


So, I could on like this forever, but it was my Xmas gift (he said later). It was the best gift I could’ve gotten from him. It meant much more than the ear rings (expensive!) and anything else he could’ve given me. I would’ve gotten all weepy about it (I did, a little), but he doesn’t like it when I’m weepy (I think he does sometimes).

I can’t wait for Valentine’s Day?!

How I Frustrate Men…apparently

•September 28, 2011 • 7 Comments

So, I was going to write something fun, and maybe I’ll still add it. I’m not sure.

But what’s on my mind right now is the fact that a whole thing happened the other day that has me sort of baffled. It really is one of those things that when I hang up the phone, I think, “What just happened?”

No, it’s not a break up or anything. When we hadn’t been together that long, I thought that all the time, waiting for the first little argument to see see if he or I would just call it quits before we got in too deep. That didn’t happen.

He calls to say he’s out of work, a little late (it’s okay, he texted me earlier to warn me) and he’s heading out. I can hear how tired he is. He’s got that sad, tired quality to his voice like he just wants to lay down and not move and recuperate. I can totally identify with that. So, I know he would probably just go home and not come over so I say so. I tell him it’s okay if wants to just go home tonight; he doesn’t have to come over.

So about 2 hours of silence passes (exaggeration!) before he finally says, “You don’t want me to come over?”

And I am like, “It’s not that I don’t want you to come over, but if you’d rather just go home tonight and not come over, I understand.”

Really, I’m not sure what happened, but he launched into this whole thing about I needed to just tell him what I wanted, just be honest, say what I wanted, and I’m telling him the usual. Yes, I’d love to see him, but it’s okay, if he’s tired and just needs some time alone. And we go around in circles with him asking me if I want him to come over and me telling him he doesn’t have to, and him saying but do I want him to, and I am trying to tell him, yes, but it’s okay and he launches again into this whole thing about this being a test to see if he really wants to come over and why can’t I just tell him what I want, etc.

So, it didn’t end well. But here’s a tip:

To the list of things never to say to a woman (in the great list of things like “What? Are you on your period?”), I’d like to add to the following…. Never, ever call a woman crazy or even hint at it! Got it?

Good, because if you ever want to get bitch slapped by a real bitch (that you just created) that will do it.

Okay, he didn’t say I was crazy, but he was close and he had that tone. I knew what he was thinking, what he wanted to say.

So, we already feel crazy enough from time to time because we get bossed around by our ovaries,  see? We (us girls) are really terrified that we ARE crazy, and we like / want / and need to be reassured that we’re okay and that we’re not really crazy, and you hinting that maybe we really are does not help anyone (least of all you, once we get done showing you how crazy we can really be–picture a rottweiler chewing on your throat).

Oh, and don’t call us fat or say we could lose a few or that we’re chunky or chubby or anything like that. The correct answer is ALWAYS we’re beautiful and perfect and you love us just the way we are, BUT support us when we’re wanting to reinvent ourselves a little, like coloring our hair or trying out a new style or working out or trying some new heels or something. You should always notice and you should always be impressed and more in love with us than before.

There. How simple is that? Huh?


On the plus side, I’m happy to say a couple of weeks ago (maybe a month actually), he said something in the car which had me all melty inside. We were talking and laughing, the usual, and he asked if I was still mad at him for slapping my bottom in the bathroom that day. I said, no, not even close and I told him I was sorry for getting mad, and that it ended up being a total turn on for me. And he asked what would happen if he did it again?

So, this is me laughing and blushing and barely able to get out the words telling him I wish he would do it again. He said he almost did it the other day because I was standing there drying my hair and my towel had slipped up and he could see my ass and he really thought about just bending me over the counter and giving me a good wallop.

Choked up, wet in all the right places, totally vibrating and humming with pleasure, also really red in the face and suddenly very hot all over. My temperature went feverish, lol. So I said he should’ve done that. He said next time he would and I better be prepared for it and not get angry like last time. I swallowed some big gulp of nervousness and promised I wouldn’t.

So, then I’m thinking, is he actually going to do this or was it just a conversation, and for a week or more every time we’re together I’m wondering if it’s going to happen, but it didn’t.

And then it did, lol.

It wasn’t in the bathroom, but I was in a towel. It was in the kitchen. I was getting water to take some pills and he gave me this odd little smirking look when I walked past him in the living room on the way there. I got my water, downed my pill, and when I turned he was right there. I think I jumped and laughed and blushed and he pulled my head back by my hair. So, instant yum! and then he grabbed my arms and whirled me around and grabbed my hair, which was still wet, and I remember thinking that I should’ve been thinking about what he was doing, but instead I sort of went off in my head and was thinking I didn’t want my hair to dry with his hand wrapped around it because it make a big dent.

And then he put his big hand on my small bottom once, but it wasn’t very hard and I thought he was done so I started to turn around, but he pushed me back and really let me have it.


I did sort of get mad, but I didn’t say anything. I mean, I felt all my nerve endings wake up and I got riled up and kind of mad because it HURT! He really hit me and my poor cheek was really stinging, but I swallowed it all down and just kind of kept my promise. And he asked me if I was mad and I shook my head, so he gave me another spank, not as hard as before. I felt the movement, but no pain, which was really weird, because the slap was loud. It echoed off the walls I remember noticing, but I felt nothing. I felt myself sort of jerk forward and the flesh of my cheek kind of fall, if that makes any sense, so I thought it was probably a really hard slap, but it was like my ass was completely and suddenly numb. Nothing. No pain.

What’s up with that?

So he asked me if I was sure I wasn’t mad and I shook my head again, and now I wasn’t mad.

I felt bad, not in a bad way, in a good way. How do you feel bad in a good way? I felt like I’d been bad. Like I’d been caught doing something I shouldn’t have been doing, only it was a sexual feeling. Like I’d been caught making out with a boy my parents had told me to stay away from, forbid me to see ever (which never happened, not even once) or maybe like I’d been caught masturbating in the library or caught not wearing panties at school (someone, maybe a teacher, spotting it under my desk). Lol, lots of good naughty feelings, huh?

I felt bad and I think I even said I was sorry and he asked what for and I shook my head and said I didn’t know.

And then he said it was okay and mmm he hugged me and kissed me and I’m not a big fan of deep tongue kissing, but suddenly we were deep in it, and I think I started it. I suddenly wanted him. I wanted him inside me. Not normal intimate loving, but in a “please use my body because that’s what it wants and that’s what it’s good for” kind of way.

So, yes, we went off to the bedroom and he climbed on top of me and I was wet and really ready. He sort of double fucked me, if that makes any sense. We did a lot more kissing than usual. It was like he was trying to fuck my mouth with his mouth and fuck me at the same time. I got off really quick. He took a little longer, but it was nice, and then…

…I had to go re-wash my hair, but I was a happy happy girl, so I couldn’t complain.

Big smile!


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