And yes, my calves are really that massive. It’s not the photography. I have huge calves, from tennis and from when I used to be a swimmer.

Posted: August 20th, 2008 under BDSM, college girl.
Comments: 1

“Kneel.”, He ordered while we were laying together in bed, fully dressed. I quickly go into kneeling position on the bed on wobbly knees. His thick, expensive, dense mattress is where we do almost all of our play.

I kneel, and He comes behind me, grabbing at me. Asking me why I have been disobeying my contract rules and not doing my allotted slave tasks.

“I don’t feel as submissive when I’m home in my parent’s house, Sir.” I say meekly. He moves in front of me, whips my clothes off and pushes me down onto my back.

He keeps asking me more questions, and punctuates His answers with sharp, stinging slaps on the inside of my thighs. I groan and squeak and struggle, and He easily pushes my legs open with His knee and slaps me on the thigh again.

Earlier in the week, after I made my post about my orgasm troubles, He had talked things out with me and made sure I was feeling okay. Last night, however, was punishment night.

“Hands, knees.” He says as He gets up to retrieve the toy bag He hides in the closet when His kids are staying at the apartment. He plops it on the bed. He retrieves His newest toy, the single tail bull whip. He plays with it a bit and even cracks it once in the air. I panic.

He brushes it against me and taps my ass and back with it. Deep down I know He wouldn’t strike me with it, because He’s barely practiced, but it still mindfucks me all the same.

He snaps open His laptop and goes into His personal gmail account. He blindfolds me.

You see, every day, I have to send Him three types of emails from my Blackberry.

1. A daily tasklist of things to do, and a slave task. Slave tasks can be blogging here, sending Him a sex fantasy, or (when I have the time to arrive at His apartment early) cleaning and doing domestic tasks. When I return to school, my slave task can also be exercising.
2. A daily picture of myself or something I’m doing. They can be naked, or normal or even funny. Whatever. (I love this task, btw. ♥)
3. Everything I eat has to be detailed, even when I disobey and eat things that are bad for me. I can ask permission to eat fattening things. On the whole, I’m supposed to abstain.

Sir loves me the way I am. He gives me these restrictions to make myself feel better and to love myself. Eating better is loving myself. Blogging about all these experiences is loving myself. When I eat shitty food, it’s not loving myself.

And I’m not allowed to hate myself.

I groan inwardly as Sir clicks through His email. I know I’ve been slacking off, way more than when I was in the summer ECU dorms.

He stuffs a gag into my mouth, the foam one, that He bought at TESfest. The foam one muffles me and it is much more comfortable, though it makes me drool. He tucks a safesignal into my hand.

He warms my ass up.

Then He clicks through His email, talking about my various misdemeanors. I try to talk through the gag.

“Did I ask you something?” He says sharply. “Because I don’t think anything you have to say right now is terribly important.”

I quiet.

He goes down the list and says out loud all my missteps during the week.

Ice cream here. Cake here. A few missed slave tasks.

He absolutely pummels my ass. Punishment isn’t supposed to feel good. It feels like He’s PUNCHING my poor pet butt.

“I obviously need to remind you who owns you.” He swishes the cane in the air.

He starts to cane me, repeated swats. My arms go rigid straight, I’m completely rigid and prone and I sit up from hands, knees position. My back is straight. My way of dealing with the repeated pain. It hurts and hurts and hurts. I scream into the foam gag. I can feel the cane cutting into me. My ass is hot and aching.

He stops and walks away.

I lay there sniffling, sniveling. Still blind and gagged.

I feel the bed move, Him behind me. He grabs me and pulls me towards Him. Pushing me down so my ass is in the air. Grabbing His cock and shoving in.

I shriek into the gag the first time His naked hips hit my sore ass.

“Aw, it hurts?” His hand pats my hand clutching the safesignal.

“Mmmmngh,” I say into the gag, meaning yes.

“Too bad.” He fucks me harder. “I’m glad it hurts.”

Soon, I can feel that tingling start. I grunt into the gag, panting almost.

“I better hear you come!” He’s fucking me harder now. Pain shooting up from when His hips crash into my sore ass.

I come, nonetheless. Hard.

–

I have black and blue blotches all over one ass cheek.

–

P.S: I’ve decided to do HNT. Rock.

Posted: August 18th, 2008 under BDSM.
Comments: 1

Things I deemed important enough that I just HAD TO HAVE THEM before school started.

• Clothes from American Eagle. My favorite store ever.
• A new bra/lingerie. From Victoria’s Secret and American Eagle.
• Stuff for the dorm room.
• Stuff for school.
• Knee-high Converse sneakers. Wait, what?

In the sneaker store in my local mall, I spotted a gorgeous pair of knee-high Converse sneakers, Chucks. Black and white. Totally awesome. I quickly emailed a picture to Sir, and He told me to try them on. “You could totally pull off a teenage dominant angle. You could wear them to BDSM parties!”

I tried them on. They were fabulous. I bought them. I could imagine myself dominating a boy in them, or taking a public beating in them…

They reminded me of the black Chucks I wore to the NYE party, that everyone commented about. Sir thinks they match my personality very well. I think they are much more suited to me than some big shiny leather boots. Unique, fun, but kind of bad-ass but still cute…

What ‘back to school’ means to me, is back to the routine of classes, studying, partying… and wearing my collar 24/7.

When Sir gave me back my stainless steel, allen-key locking collar, I had a crisis. My roommate for the summer, a sunny, bouncy Californian who wasn’t an ECU student, had met me without the collar on. She met me with my ‘vanilla’ collar, a silver bracelet with a heart on it that Sir bought me in San Francisco. Contract rules state I’m to wear one or the other and I’m not to be without either one of those on my person. So I spent the summer wearing the bracelet, removing the bracelet to wear the collar in Sir’s presence, or when I went to the BDSM club.

I’ve decided to go back to wearing my collar 24/7. This means meeting my roommates with it on, going to classes with it on… and living with my friend with it on. She saw me in it all last semester and never said anything. I’m hoping I won’t have to out myself. Sir tells me to just be casual about it the collar and people won’t notice.

To be honest, I love wearing my collar. I infinitely prefer the collar over the bracelet. I just became paranoid about wearing around my summer roommate.

I hope to be more disciplined in my slave tasks and my daily routines for Sir. I think being away from home (I’m writing this blog post from my house) will help my mindset a lot. I hide everything from my parents, and it’s hard to feel really, really submissive here at home.

In a few weeks, I’ll be back at school, and meeting all those new people with my proper collar on…

Hmm. Maybe I should add stainless steel jewelry cleaner to that shopping list…

Posted: August 15th, 2008 under college girl.
Comments: none

Sir again here.  Eventually I will get around to blogging some actual sex related posts on what is it’s like to own and use my wonderful pet.   But I wanted to publish a quick update on some more political issues of the day.

A few new updates on our fund raising efforts.

For one we are continuing to accept some donations for the Spank-for-Jefferson efforts.   This is ALSO Due to the fact that mine and Delilah’s schedules are now officially out of whack for the rest of the month, and it seems that Delilah WON’T be getting her spanking until at least Aug 28th, probably around labor day weekend.  No final date, but we will take donations up until the spanking occurs.

PICTURES.  We will be publishing shots of Delilah’s ass, so people can see that they got what they wanted.  I’ll give a nice before and after shot at least.

Also, I will up the ante:  Any Bloggers out there that put a LINK on their site to the Jefferson fundraising efforts, get two FREE spanks.  Just send us an email with the link on your page to Jefferson’s fundraising link, and I’ll include you.  (Yes Rogue, you get extra spanks!).

And if anybody is hesitating about sending me their paypal receipts, just send me a “I really did donate” email and as long as we don’t get flooded, I’ll count them.

Finally: It seems that a lot of people think fucking up kids lives is a way to punish parents for having sexual expression.  I also want to point people’s attention towards Catalina’s efforts to keep her daughter in school.    She raffling off some cool prizes you can win, donated by the community.

- Sir.

Posted: August 12th, 2008 under Uncategorized.
Comments: 1

I’m having orgasm troubles lately.

It’s taking me longer and longer to orgasm. I get sore and sensitive before I orgasm.

“It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, pet.” He says, reassuring me that I’m normal.

Here’s what happens;

Sir tries to make me orgasm.

I ooh and aah and groan and come very close to orgasming.

I feel self conscious about not orgasming.

I ask myself what not orgasming by now means; am I a bad pet? Is something wrong with me? Why aren’t I orgasming?

I don’t orgasm.

I mean, fuck. I had a Magic Wand pressed against me and I just felt squirmy and sensitive, not like I was going to orgasm.

I started getting frustrated and bitchy and scrowl-y. A little distressed.

I don’t know why I just can’t… let go.

Sir put clover clamps on me earlier tonight as He chained my hands above my head.

Breathe, don’t let the pain take control. Breathe.

I couldn’t. The pain just kept coming.

It felt amazing when He started to fuck my sopping wet pussy. When He wasn’t making my body move/making the clamps hurt like a motherfucker, it felt incredible. To have this pain and this full, wonderful feeling in my pussy. The pain suddenly complimented the pleasure, to an extent. Once He started fucking me hard enough to make my breasts shake, the pain increased.

I was so, so, so close to coming. The pain kept me from me going over the edge.

But part of me craved that pain and wanted it to keep going.

The troubling part was, the rest of the night, was like one long attempt to make me orgasm.

I’m overthinking it. I only started to orgasm when He said I couldn’t.

We did a hard breathplay scene, to the point where my hands came up and literally started to pry His hand off my mouth for air. I started to yell behind His hand, which I never, ever do.

We fought over Him forcing me to say “I’m a cockwhore”. Which I don’t like saying.

I was squirming and trying to breathe. He yelled, “You better say it now!” and took His hands off my nose and mouth.

“Fuck you”, flew out of my mouth.

“You bitch!” He said, and slapped me repeatedly.

So close to orgasming.

But that mental block just kept coming up, thoughts repeating in my head.

That I’m a bad submissive. That something is wrong with me.

I’m a bad submissive, I must be broken, I’m a bad submissive, I should have orgasmed by now…

They’ve just appeared out of nowhere.

And I don’t come.

I don’t know how to make them go away.

I know I’m a good submissive. Sir is pleased with me, punishes me when I’m not a good girl, and that’s the end of it. I make Him happy, I make Him come, I make His life easier, I make Him smile that lovely smile of His. I went through protocol training without too much ‘correction’.

So why do I feel like I’m a bad submissive?

Maybe it’s that oral sex thing. I have the hardest time orgasming from oral sex. I really have to focus and concentrate, and lately, I just flail and get frustrated and I don’t get much pleasure out of it. I tense and tense and tense to the point where I feel self-conscious.

Fuck. Dammit. I’m not a bad submissive.

I’m sitting here at 4am (Sir will be grouchy when He realizes I’ve been up all night) worrying over this.

Fuck. I didn’t think I would be brought to tears over my submissive insecurities. It’s my blog and I’ll cry if I want to.

Only once since I explored this have I ever been called “not submissive enough” for someone. I took the comment with a grain of salt, was somewhat insulted, and chain smoked Marlboro Ultra Lights as soon as I stepped out of J’s apartment. I wrote the experience off as chemistry not clicking. J had told me as I was getting dressed, “Maybe we’ll cross paths one day. Maybe ten years from now you’ll be what I’m looking for. But for now, you’re not.” Which was fine. It wasn’t much of a relationship.

But this. I would be so upset if Sir dumped me because I wasn’t “submissive enough” or I wasn’t good enough. Actually, upset would be putting it nicely. I would be devastated. I don’t know why I have all this doubt seeping under my skin, making me cry, making me worry myself awake.

But I can’t stop crying.

I know this probably sounds ridiculous to all the Dominants out there, a submissive girl, barely a woman, worrying over whether she’s good enough for her Master.

I should be a big submissive and suck it up and deal with it. Like I suck it up and deal with pain, with orders, with nipple clamps, with seemingly endless canings.

But I can’t.

Posted: August 12th, 2008 under emotional.
Comments: 1

We added a Feedburner RSS feed, for faster compatibility with your favorite RSS reader.

We already had the Twitter and Tumblr sites.

But now we have MySpace and LiveJournal mirrors!

So go ahead and pick your favorite. They will all bring you back here!

Posted: August 11th, 2008 under Uncategorized.
Comments: none

• I respond to protocol. Protocol meaning speaking restrictions, routines, strict orders and daily assignments.
• I can experience subspace!
• That it is possible for me to feel comfortable within the BDSM community.
• That Sir and I really fit well together.
• I also like very restrictive, long term bondage.
• I have an interest in dominating a boy.
• I’m a painslut.
• Oh yeah, and some other stuff that’s not actually related to BDSM. Shocking.
• Like that I’m addicted to Starbucks and cheap books.
• Summer classes suck.
• I love my university!

I split my time this summer taking summer classes and spending time with Sir. Sir had me spend the weekend with Him and undergo training.

• I was not to speak, make eye contact, sit, stand, eat, drink, use the bathroom, or orgasm without permission.
• I was not to sit in a chair or on the couch.
• I had to wear my metal collar.
• I could not close a door on Sir, I had to leave a door open in the apartment with Him at all times.
• He chose my clothing.
• I had to sit on a cushion on the floor.

Read more »

Posted: August 10th, 2008 under BDSM, first time.
Comments: none

Donate to the Jefferson Legal Defense League

So Delilah has been bugging me to blog.   Not too much.  Before anybody get’s TOO confused, this is NOT your usual lovable and sexy coed blogger.  This is her very lucky owner, who until we have finally decided on a better “screen name”, I’ll keep going by user name.. “sir”.

Anyways, my real introductory post will have to wait.   Instead I wanted to immediately draw attention to our readers to the legal plight of a fellow blogger and community member.

Jefferson, the author of the often interesting One Life, Take Two, blog is currently under threat of losing the custody of his kids, because of his blog.

Of course for stupid legal reasons, he has had to REMOVE the blog from the internet. But we really hope it will return as soon as the drama in his life is over.

I don’t know Jefferson personally, but he and I share a LOT of similarities: married for 15 years, divorced single father, and a kinkster.  He’s ALSO one of the only MALE sex bloggers that I read.   And know it’s gone missing.   At least one of the few male sex bloggers that’s WORTH reading, so I’m really hoping for it’s eventual return.

Anyways, The Sexual Freedom Legal Defense and Education Fund has setup a legal defense fund to help Jefferson fight for his legal right to maintain custody of his kids.

This is an important case for a large number of reasons.  Here is just 3 good ones:

1. His freedom is our freedom.   People should NOT be discriminated against based on their sexual identity, their sexual preferences.   I think we ALL make the assumptions that we will be treated fairly in matters of law but the reality is that is not the case.
2. Help build legal precedence. While there IS a growing set of legal cases being won by amazing people like the The Sexual Freedom Legal Defense and Education Fund and the National Coalition For Sexual Freedom, but there really needs to be more.  I think TOO MANY people don’t fight for the own legal rights because of the fear of stigma of being “found out” as kinky or “deviant”.  The more cases that are won, will encourage other people to feel confident enough to defend themselves.   But winning cases like these takes money.  It takes people.  And it has to be fought out state-by-state and court-by-court and sometimes even judge-by-judge.   I have no doubt that the war for sexual freedom will be won eventually, but some battles will be lost.   It’s a fight worth fighting.  A donation to Jefferson is a donation to help build a solid set of precedence for generations to come.
3. Jefferson’s kids.   What sucks here is that it is always the kids who suffer the most.  They lose access to their father.  They get reinforced the idea that sex is bad, and something must be “wrong” if it means their own loving father isn’t allowed be there for them.    It hurts everybody.  It’s just stupid and fear based and small-minded.   There isn’t a SINGLE shred of evidence that Jefferson is a bad parent.  His ex-wife has ADMITTED that he is a good father.

I’m NOT saying that there aren’t people who’s sex lives ARE problems for their kids.   There are plenty of examples of fucked up parents and their fucked up behavior, fucking up kids.   But bi, gay, lesbian, BDSM-ers, poly, and other general kinksters are NO MORE LIKELY or LESS LIKELY to be fucked-up.

But it’s exactly people like Jefferson, that have embraced their own sexuality with confidence and pride and self-respect, is whom I think we want our kids to emulate.   Jefferson is one of the good guys.

I will be making a small donation and putting a link to the defense fund on the site.

Make a donation TODAY!  Even just $10 is gonna make a difference.  It’s tax deductible!  Come on.  Takes minutes via paypal. (Make sure to state JEFFERSON LEGAL DEFENSE FUND in your donation!).

So I am PUTTING UP Delilah’s sore ass as an incentive.

If somebody sends us an email with their paypal donation receipt (or some other reasonable proof), than I promise to give Delilah a nice strong spanking and caning.  She will of course need to file a full and complete report here when it’s done.

I’ll start the strikes of at $20 a strike?  If we get flooded with donation receipts, I may have to raise the price, so act now while the prices are still low! After the first few hundred dollars raised, I’m gonna raise the price per strike.

The goal is to raise $20,000, but I’m only currently only gonna counting donations from people who send me proof of a donation.

All your emails and identities will be kept in TOTAL AND STRICT CONFIDENCE.  If you have any questions or concerns about that, just email me.  And sending me a copy won’t let me crack into your paypal acct. promise.  If somebody has a better idea of how to validate donations, I’m open to hearing it.

After the first few hundred dollars donated, I’m gonna raise the price per strike!   So send in a donation now, I’m only gonna leave her us up for sale until MONDAY night, midnight, pacific standard time.

We will work out the final details of WHEN and HOW she will receive all those strikes, but the priority is to try and raise some money this week!

(This will teach her to ask me blog!…).

- sir.

Posted: August 6th, 2008 under Sir.
Comments: 4

I suggested that He practice His rope tying. He was always complaining that He never had time to practice. So we sat on His bed and I obediently held out my wrists, legs and hands for Him to criss cross with rope. He examined the diagrams carefully.

Soon, He had my legs tied open to two points underneath the bed, leaving me exposed. He grinned and said that He had to take advantage of me in this position. I never could have predicted what happened next. He brought out the cuffs and pulled my hands over my head, cuffed them.

He climbed on top of me and shoved His cock into my mouth, getting it hard. Throatfucking me. He pulled out, put a condom on, and started to fuck me.

“Say you’re a cockhole.” He said this firmly, still inside me. I shook my head no. He slapped me. “Say it.” Shook my head no again.

“Don’t make me gag you! I’ll do it!” He said loudly. I stood my ground. He yanked the condom off and threw it on the ground, climbed over me, and shoved His whole cock down my throat.

I was beating His thighs with my cuffed hands, thrashing and gagging on His cock. There was this palpable energy in the room that took hold of both of us. Then He held my nose shut.

Say it. Say you’re a cock hole. He was berating me, ordering me repeatedly. His eyes flashed dark blue, not the lighter blue they normally were.

I won’t let up until you fucking say it. I nodded that I would say it, then hesitated for not more than two seconds. His cock down my throat again.

Not fast enough.

He was fucking my throat and holding my breath, and I was thrashing as much as I could. I was gagging and seeing spots swim in my vision. I wouldn’t let just any man do this to me. Him and I can sense each other really well now, and He knows when I’m reaching the limit.

“I’m a cockhole.” I whimpered when He let up. “Say you’re THIS cock’s whore”, He barked at me.

“FUCK YOU!” I yelled at Him, suddenly full of fury and fight. My eyes widened when I saw His reaction. Sir’s face was pure energy and fury, He slapped my face open palm hard enough that I saw stars. The violence felt out of control, in a deliciously evil way. I still felt safe, but it’s that magical suspension of disbelief that happens in BDSM scenes. We were both fighting.

“Fuck you?! I’LL FUCK YOU.” He grabbed hold of my defiant chin. Then slapped me again. He pulled off of me and stomped over to get a condom. I was thrashing and still fighting. He was holding His cock and slamming into me.

This is what you are. This is what you’re for. You fight and you beg but you’re so fucking wet.

I always am wet. Sopping, soaking, slippery wet.

He was overcome with the intensity of the scene and orgasmed quickly after fucking me. He lay on top of me for a second and we were quiet, almost in contemplation, except for the heavy breathing. We were both sweating profusely.

A smile crept across my face, and one started on his face too.

“Well. THAT was really fucking hot. That was really intense.” I said. I laughed a bit.

He kissed me and I didn’t stop smiling.

–

I went through a three day period of what Sir called ‘high protocol’ training and had a series of very intense scenes. This was just one of them.

Posted: August 6th, 2008 under BDSM.
Comments: none

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #144? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
Anti-Porn Protest Gets Weird
“People get very excited about their causes and lack the sense to see if the information backs them up. ”

The Come Shot
“You don’t see their bodies going blotchily red and hear them howling like a banshee.”

Third Time’s a Charm
“If I lift my kilt on Bourbon Street I’m much more likely to get arrested than if Elizabeth takes off her top.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Sugar Bank

Editor’s Choice
In My Office

More Sugasm
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See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

Posted: August 6th, 2008 under sugasm.
Comments: none