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The Gift, Explained

November 10th, 2009

Some of you likely don’t care so much about this conversation which occurred after Marc left — you’d prefer I’d get on to the parts of the story in which my body is used and abused. But I think it’s important to share some of the realities of such BDSM fantasies. Not so you “believe me,” but so you understand what risks there are here… And why Blackie was willing to risk them.

Any relationship fights against boredom, but with BDSM relationships, there are often times when couples need to consider just how far they can go — and whether or not they should. Some fantasies are probably best left as fantasies; either reality will never ever live up to them, or the dangers outweigh the gifts. But how can you tell which are which? And when you are in a relationship — even one in which a partner, like myself, has given their control over their intimate sexual lives over to their Master — the two of you must either A) agree or B) the Master must bear the weight of decisions which may ruin or end the relationship. So yes, Blackie had put much thought into this seemingly ‘fast’ decision.

Blackie and I had, several times, discussed his fantasies of having me serve others at his command. His concerns were health & safety. My concerns were that by allowing others to use me, the door was opened for him to play with others. And we both worried about the possible risks to our relationship that would obviously exist outside our sex lives.

So, after Marc left, Blackie turned his attentions to me. He didn’t release me from my position — nor did he remove the ball gag — while he told me his plans. (I bet every husband has wanted to keep his wife his silent captive audience while he broke discomforting news to her, but in this case, I suppose it was really the only way he could be sure he was heard.)

“I’ve been thinking about this a very long time, Pinkie,” he began. “I know you have questions, concerns, but let me assure you that I’ve given this a lot of thought. Not just masturbatory thought — though that’s been delicious — but I’ve thought about our relationship as well… I suppose it began last year, during the golf circuit, when I saw Carmen bitching to hotel staff and I saw how those men looked at her… I toyed with offering them you in her place — and knowing how they’d looked at you, how they assumed you were the same sort of rich bitch as she, I knew they’d delight in taking their frustrations out on you — but there are health and safety concerns. I racked my brain, trying to work out how to create such scenes, how to make you serve me & my whims by serving others — and others you had no feelings for but would still see again, and so be humiliated.”

“And then it hit me; I didn’t need to look so far away — I had someone in my backyard that was drooling for such an opportunity. Marc. And along with testing your love and our agreement, along with the fun of training this novice, I would have the pleasure of using & exhausting you as never before. Now when I leave town, you’ll have your own temporary Master, you’ll play by his rules. All I needed to do was get a clean bill of health — and as his employer, that would be a snap. So I hired him. I hired him for me, for you, for us. By hiring him, he can easily travel with us on my business trips too. Because you love me, your training has been somewhat easy… It’s easy to submit to someone you love — but someone you dislike, don’t respect? Someone who by this point, has no illusions about his feelings for you — he just wants to use you, put you in your place, humiliate you. And I get to watch it, control it, hell, even orchestrate situations and conditions neither of you have thought of yet.”

“I know you are probably flattered at this point,” he mocked me, fully aware that I was nowhere near sold on the idea, let alone excited by it, “But you may be worried about Marc’s loyalty… Will he keep his mouth shut when and where needed? Of course he will. Not only does his salary & resume depend upon it, but he hungers to punish you. And his need to punish you, this bitch who rejected him, has only intensified his deep desire to explore BDSM — and who better to learn from?”

He leaned in, trailing his fingers over my bare breast, and continued, a fire bright in his eyes. “And such a pretty bit of meat to play with, abuse, and learn — and make mistakes — on!”

“All for free — no, all that and to be paid for it? No, Marc has nothing to gain from overstepping the rules.”

“And we, you & I, we have plenty to gain from this.”

At this point Blackie gently lifted me forward and freed my arms. I briskly rubbed them while I avoided his gaze. “Look at me.” I refused for a second, but before he could repeat himself I looked him squarely, defiantly in the eyes. “I’ll remove the gag now, but you will say nothing. Just get yourself ready for bed. We have company to entertain early tomorrow. And you should really save that silly prideful anger of yours for tomorrow’s play — I have a feeling it will be a long day, Pinkie dear.”

With that he said goodnight, ordered me to sleep on the sofa (so that my tossing & turning wouldn’t bother him), and went up to bed.

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Birthday Wishes, Part Two

November 4th, 2009

After being struck by the news that my birthday gift was to be put into some service for Marc I was understandably shocked; gagged-speechless, unable to move, there was nothing I could say or do but try to absorb the information as it came in.

Millions of concerns and questions circled in my mind… My intense dislike of Marc, though, paled in contrast to worry about the potential relationship consequences of being used by another man — did Blackie really know what he was doing to us?

As Blackie and Marc joked about how Marc would have to get himself a drink from the bar because I was “tied up at the moment,” I swallowed hard and tried to clear my head so that I could pay attention to whatever information I might learn. By the time Marc returned with his glass I thought I had composed myself; but when he sat on sofa, on the side opposite Blackie, resting his left thigh against my naked body, I jumped. At least on the inside.

Both men sat there, discussing whatever was on TV (I was completely oblivious to it by this time), as if this was just the same-old-same-old, while I tried to calm myself down. Fear was tightening in my throat. I could feel moisture growing under my arms. I tried to concentrate on slowing & controlling my breathing.

Blackie, who knows me so well, likely was aware of my efforts; so it was probably no coincidence that once I had more control of myself that the men began to talk about me — and talk about me as if I wasn’t there, or as if I were some object, not a sentient being.

“So, tomorrow morning, 8 A.M.?” Blackie casually confirmed.

“Yup, right after I do those few things on your list,” Marc replied before taking a swig from his glass, the ice tinkling as if laughing at me too.

“Because you know, we should celebrate the whole day, even if Pinkie isn’t really a morning person…” Blackie began then smugly chortled, “Not that I imagine she will sleep well at all tonight.”

“Eager little beaver, hmm?” Marc mocked.

“Oh, I imagine the anticipation will keep her as up tonight as her nipples are right now,” Blackie laughed, punctuating his point by tweaking my left nipple.

“Lovely, just lovely…” Marc said. “May I?”

“Of course!” was Blackie’s gracious reply.

And with that, Marc took a firm grip of my right nipple, slowly rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Now, that Marc, is not a flush of arousal; it’s a flush of anger,” Blackie pointed out, “A most delicious thing to see…”

“I suppose it is when you know you can wipe that smug refusal away anytime you wish,” Marc said, changing his grasp of my captured nipple from a firm rolling motion to a tight press that continued to hold as Blackie spoke.

“Oh, don’t worry, you’ll soon be doing what you want, when you want, no matter what her face says — in fact, you’ll do more than that. You’ll take what she believes she can refuse to give you. And, over time, you’ll soon have her dependent upon you — humiliated and hating herself for it too. And won’t that be delicious.”

Marc was silent for a moment, still holding my nipple firmly. Still silent, he jerked his hand downward, yanking my nipple and tit with it, then gave a slight twist before letting the nipple slip away and sending my breast bouncing. Then Marc stood on his feet, “Well, tomorrow we’ll start all of that, won’t we?”

He said goodbye to Blackie, then bent down before me, towering over me and looking me in the eyes, “You have sweet dreams, Pinkie, cuz tomorrow mine begin.”

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Birthday Wishes?

October 29th, 2009

It was the Friday before my birthday weekend. I was home with Blackie. He sat on the sofa; I was sitting at his feet in his favorite position: nude, on my knees (spread wide), my arms tightly bound behind me, back arched so that my breasts are up, with my head resting (if you can call it that) on the edge of the sofa cushion as Blackie held my hair — looped around his wrist twice then held in his right hand.

In this position, I have very little range of movement (and over time, even less comfort); Blackie has full access & control. I knew he had something in mind because I was also wearing the larger ballgag — something Blackie usually reserves for very unreserved plans (or in hotel rooms etc., when we travel, to keep my noise down).

He sat, rather ignoring me, lazily playing with a riding crop in his left hand, keeping me on edge.

There was a knock at the door. I jumped. As well as I could in my position anyway. I turned my head the inch I could and rolled my eyes at him, asking if he was expecting anyone. He steadily looked me in the eyes and said, “Marc is coming by to drop off some papers.”

Marc is this young guy, just a year or two older than I, who I actually met the same night I met Blackie. Both men were in the bar, both men were hitting on me, but Marc was just, well, a slick jerk who thought he had skills as a “playa” but didn’t. He’s annoyed — and creeped me out — ever since. Something Blackie has enjoyed every time our paths have crossed, taking delight in making me be polite while Marc drooled all over me. Now Blackie was claiming Marc was here, at our home? Invited even?

Incredulous, I thought he must be joking. If there was any mirth in my eyes, Blackie stoically watched as it faded.

“It’s open, Marc,” Blackie called.

Instinctively I tried to move, even though I knew I couldn’t. I felt Blackie’s grip on my hair tighten just a second before he yanked it soundly.

Marc appeared out of the small foyer. He stopped dead in his tracks, drinking in the scene. “Damn,” he said, trying to reinstate his air of faux cool.

“Did you bring them?” Blackie asked.

“Got ‘em right here,” he said, striding fulling into the room and proffering some papers to Blackie. Blackie, I gather, waved them away with a dismissive, “I received my copies by fax this afternoon.

“Yeah?” Marc replied, who still couldn’t take his eyes off me, a miserable blush of a mess at Blackie’s feet.

“Yeah, so why don’t you tell Pinkie here, what you’ve brought,” Blackie commanded more than asked.

Marc took a few steps forward, so that he was right before me, towering over me, and placed some pages in front of me. They were at an angle, so I couldn’t read them — not that my addled brain could have made sense of even Mother Goose at that time.

“What I’ve got here, Pinkie, are papers to fuck you — and fuck with you,” he said smugly.

I think I shook my head — to clear it, or in denial, I don’t know — but I felt the hairs strained in Blackie’s grip.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Blackie breathed onto my neck, taking a nip of my left earlobe.

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A Quick Update For Fall

October 29th, 2009

Wow, so much has happened in the past few months I’m not even sure where to begin! Well, you know I’ll begin telling stories in the order Blackie wants me to; but you get my point, right? I’ve been busy. Not just work busy (finally clearing my schedule for the remainder of the year, as I do every year at this time per Blackie’s wishes), but busy with training. Advanced training.

I do believe that I’ll be put to the telling of the training, of my pain and shame, soon — as well as be put back on the phones (though I hear NF is very confusing in Beta right now?).

So stay tunned; your patience, I hope, shall be rewarded!

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Birthday Treats & Training

July 28th, 2009

I’ve been undergoing some serious additional training — the details of which I will be telling you soon — but I just wanted you to know that my silence here does not mean I’ve been gone…

I believe my new schedule, including serving you via the phone, will be set soon.

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Quickie: Sale

June 19th, 2009

Maybe GameLink knows it’s my birthday because they’ve got 200 steaming porn videos for just $1.99!

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Playing Favorites: Pink Pussy Pumps

June 17th, 2009

One of the many gifts from “D” was a pink pussy pump. I’ve never used one before. They’ve looked intriguing; but after trying a dual breast & nipple pump gizmo once with completely unsatisfactory results, I wasn’t too keen on anything which promised suction to increase blood flow & arousal. However, “D” knows his sex toys — especially the punishing kind.

Let me tell you, the sweet pink color of this pussy pump belies its intensity. Once that pink plastic see-thru cup is placed over my pink bits and the pump is, well, pumped, the suction begins. (Note: you may have to adjust the placement of the cup a bit to ensure a seal — and, while I’ve never had to do it, the it is suggested that coating the rubber lip with lubes will help create a better seal.)

At first the suction is nice (like the gentle sucking power of a lover’s mouth) but then, with repeated pumps, the suction (like a cruel lover’s mouth) becomes very intense — pulling, puffing & stretching my pink bits, trying to fill up the cup with them. Because the area the plastic cup covers is larger than any mouth I’ve known, the effects of pumping the pussy pump can be quite cruel.

I tried to take some photos of the pussy pump in use, but the position and the pink colored plastic cup made it too difficult — but thanks to Device Bondage, here’s photo illustration:

device-bound-pussy-pump

Not the same pump, & in general, your results may vary, of course; but if that looks unnatural, imagine how it feels?

I don’t have to imagine; I know!

It feels rather like my Master has my pussy parts in his tightly clenched fist yet both his hands are free for other things!

Once the suction cup is removed, my pussy lips and clit are very sensitive. This increased sensitivity inspires Blackie to pinch, pull, clamp and otherwise make the most of my pink bits.

Then again, Blackie might do all his pussy pinching, twisting, pulling and clamping first, then apply the pussy pump. (In those cases, it takes half the number of pumps to have me squirming.)

However, you know that Blackie likes to test limits, and that includes not only my personal limits but the limits of toys. So he wanted to see if the pussy pump would work on my breasts…

Perhaps because my breasts are so large — it does. Of course, the pussy pump cup can only be applied to one breast at a time (over my nipple & areola), but, done well, one is enough *wink*

When the nipple is well-centered in the cup, the sensation from pumping can be quite acute. Just three pumps searingly sends my nipple upwards, nearly touching the top of the cup. That may not sound like much, but those three pumps have me biting my lip from the pain.

So, if you’re looking for a suction toy that doesn’t suck, this would be the one.

Once again, Thank You, “D.”

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The Demise Of The Three Martini Lunch Isn’t All Bad

June 16th, 2009

The three martini lunch may have ended a few decades ago, but the ways I spend my lunchtime these days may be just as intoxicating for phone Masters — and it might just drive me to drink too.

Master Jim especially likes to make use of lunchtime — his & mine.

Because we are in two different time zones, he assigned me tasks for both our lunches today. First, during his lunch time, I had to do the following:

Print neatly on an index card, “I”m a slut masturbating in the bathroom for Master Jim,” take it to the bathroom and play with yourself for 10 minutes. You will not come, just make yourself so wet that after 10 minutes, you will hold up the index card with your sticky fingers & photograph it as proof and message it to me.

Then, two hours later, when it was my lunchtime:

Take two clothespins and return to the ladies’ room — not your office where you can hide — and wait for my call.

Once he called, he instructed me to pop my big tits out of my bra & place a clothespin on each nipple. Under his direction, I was then forced to twist the clothespins — trying desperately to remain silent in the public restroom so that my coworkers wouldn’t hear. While other women came in & out of the bathroom, Master Jim shamed and humiliated me…

What would happen if I made enough noise to be discovered…

What would they think of their boss, their consultant, found in the bathroom obeying a stranger, twisting her clamped nipples, the pussy juice on her thighs proof that she was a pain slut.

He was right too; the combination of nipple pain and his humiliation of me, telling me what a slut I was — especially after masturbating just hours earlier — had me very wet. In fear, shame & humiliation I whimpered & cried as silently as I could.

To make matters worse, the call only lasted five minutes — five free minutes for him to celebrate my birthday.

And he has five more minutes to use yet…

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Protected: Birthday Spanking — And Fuck In The Tub

June 16th, 2009

For my birthday last year, Blackie gave me a sound spanking — far more than the traditional “one for each year plus one to grow on.” Then he soaped me up in the tub and fucked me from behind.

I don’t know what he’ll give me when I turn 24 (on Sunday!) — but I do know what he’s giving you *wink*

Member Masters, enter your password below to see four photos of me & my soapy red-marked ass fucked doggy-style. If you are not a Member Master & do not have the password, here’s how you get it — or, you can buy one of the photos here.

This is a Bound Post. To view it please enter your password below. (See how to get the password at the Bound Post link at the top of the site.)


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How To Keep A Slave In Love & Submissive

June 16th, 2009

What I love about this story at Slaves In Love (titled Her Right) is not just the punishing abuse her Master gives out…

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Or that she takes it all while sobbing so hard…

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But that he takes short breaks from delivering the abuse to give her reassuring, comforting kisses of love…

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It’s just those sorts of kisses which keep a submissive slave craving, trying, submitting.

Of course, there are times, like when he’s taking a rather large dildo to her ass while whipping her behind, that she’ll just have the memory of those kisses to get her through…

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Psst, click the text links to see free clips!

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  • Pinkie and Blackie...
    The colors of our love... Not just our shopping (which is what primarily what will be covered still at the old blog), but the colors that I as a pain slut prefer to wear...


    I am not called Pinkie because my coloring is naturally pink -- but I am naturally a pain slut, and love to be made pink from spankings & other physical abuse which leaves marks, welts, and, sometimes, cuts... Blackie also thrills to make me flush pink with shame, humiliation and arousal.


    He was called Blackie long before I met him.

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