The Blossoming Of Our BDSM Relationship.

Tag: paddling

Friday, April 19th, 2013

Seven Days Of Edging

For the past seven days I have been under the special command of Master Member Rogue. This meant no masturbation, or orgasm,

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Thursday, December 1st, 2011

Top 5 BDSM Stocking Stuffers (And Save 15%!)

‘Tis the season to get what you want!

Here are a few things to stuff in her stocking this holiday that won’t cost you much, but have big payoffs!

For playful fetish fun, Fetish-Play Dice Game. Beginners and 24/7 lifestyle folks alike will enjoy the roll of the dice approach.

Black latex — crotchless — panties and mini skirts are always fun! (Don’t forget the Rubba Glow for extra holiday sparkle!)

Closet Cuffs are practical and effective. Plus, they are super portable and easy to travel with, turning any hotel or other room into a BDSM playroom!

The pink and black X & O’s paddle lets you leave loving marks — plus, it’s cute to leave on display. *wink*

I don’t think there’s a man alive who hasn’t fantasized at least once about muzzling his maid! The Fetish Fantasy O-Ring Gag with Nipple Clamps let’s you control her volume while adding the sting of nipple clamps. (OK, so there might be some whining — but it’s the kind of whimpers you love!)

We’ve got an exclusive discount code at Sexclectic:

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Wednesday, November 16th, 2011

Bondage Tights

I was over at A Slip Of A Girl (adding things to my holiday list) where I spotted these Bondage Tights from Wolford. The conversation there, and at Klaudia’s blog, centers around the heavy weight of the tights versus the lighter-weight thigh-high version by Oroblu. My first thought was then to “wish” for the stockings, but then Blackie, who normally prefers stockings, interceded, saying, “I think the heavy weight of the tights would be far more fun to test with the crop.” So, I think there might just be a pair of the Wolford Bondage Tights under my tree this year *wink*

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Friday, March 11th, 2011

Spanking Confessions

From a call with a first time phone Master — shared not only with his permission, but at his request.

“Where do you hate to be spanked or hit, love? — Be honest, now,” he commands.

(I love that he calls me love… It’s warm, and cozy, and sweet — and you only hurt the ones you love, right?)

“You mean where on my body?”

“No, not body parts, love; where. Do you like it less to be standing, your arms tied over your head, kneeling over a footstool, or where?”

“Honestly?”

“Honestly,” he says, that note in his voice warns me just how near a growl he is…

“I dislike it most when I must present myself, place myself, over a man’s knee,” I say, the heat of blushing full in my cheeks.

“Why?”

“B-because it’s personal — too personal.”

“Standing naked and being whipped isn’t personal?”

“Not as much so… At least not usually.”

“Isn’t feeling like any old piece of meat humiliating?”

“Yes… But in most cases, I can more easily disconnect myself from the physical pain because I am just any old piece of meat to be used like that.”

“But over a man’s knee…?”

“Over a man’s knee I cannot hide.”

“It’s more intimate,” he states.

“Too intimate,” I agree.

“He can see your wet slit between those reddening mounds of flesh, hmm?”

*silence*

“Answer!”

“Yes!” I blurt, frightened into a response.

“And you will be wet, won’t you.”

“Yes,” I confess, hearing myself sounding miserable.

“Why do you get so wet, love.” He didn’t ask; he knows why. He’s commanding me to confess — and he’ll know if I lie.

“Because it hurts — not just physically, but it hurts to be so, so — so insignificant, like a child. I must just take it.”

“Do you cry, love?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Tears of…?”

“Pain, humiliation, fear, frustration… embarrassment…”

“And do you cry when you are whipped standing nude on display?”

“Yes…”

A pause. Then he says, “‘Yes’ what?”

“When I’m standing like that, or bent over a stool or whatever, you can’t see it — can’t see that I’m crying.”

“But?”

I sigh before I plunge in and confess completely. “When I’m over your knee, you may not see that I’m crying, but you’ll hear it — you’ll feel my breathing. …And you’ll feel my tears on your legs…”

“So slippery it must be… Your crying eyes, your weeping cunt…”

“Yes,” I say, humiliated at his knowing.

“And are you wet now, love?”

I can barely breath the answer… “Yes…”

“Where? Are little tears in your eyes?”

“Yes,” I sigh.

“So hard to confess, little one, yes?”

I nod the answer — then remember he can’t see this on the phone and blurt out an anguished “Yes!”

“And your slit? Is it wet?”

“Yes, I admit it,” I wail — my cheeks burning again.

“Well, now, let’s not waste that. Get the paddle, then spread your legs…”

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Wednesday, July 28th, 2010

Tit Play & Forced Orgasm Video

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Friday, July 2nd, 2010

Protected: Red, Right & Blew

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Monday, May 25th, 2009

Memorable Memorial Weekend

I don’t know how you’ll remember Memorial Day Weekend 2009, but I’ll remember it as an exhausting painful one.

Even though Blackie was away, I was anything but neglected & ignored; two regular phone Masters, “D” and “MC,” made sure of that. On Sunday, I was even rented out for the day exclusively to a new Master who had lots of new tasks and training for me to do — it was the first time this new service option was put to use and I was so thoroughly used, pushed past limits of sleep deprivation, humiliation, and pain, that I spent the last hour just shaking, crying & desperately trying.

Between Friday and the wee hours of Monday morning, there were more clothespins used on me than I care to count, too-too many adventures with Ben Gay (after sp & a even!), an incredibly painful (and long!) session of service kneeling on dried rice, and a sordid assortment of services that, while I tended to with dedication, I am still too blurry-minded to be able to recall them all correctly…

And I do not have much time to recall and tell of them either because Blackie has returned and I must tend to him and his needs. But I will share this…

Breasts are remarkably resilient, taking punishments that have you crying and coming (or, when you are not allowed to come, have you struggling to hold yourself from falling over the forbidden edge) and leave you with tenderness and aches which are ever present whether awake or asleep — yet looking as if nothing much has happened to them. They are deceptive things.

But the insides of my thighs? Oh, they show their misery.

Since Blackie believes good submissives tell their Masters of their conditions, I had sent both “D” and “MC” photos of the bruising on my thigh. Both of them took great delight in adding to it by paddling (along with their other pleasures).

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  • Pinkie and Blackie…
    The colors of our love... Not just our shopping, 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. Blackie likes to push those limits, give punishments which leave 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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    Phone Sex With Submissive Pinkie


    Call: 1-800-TO-FLIRT Ext. 03525663
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