Q:I've never been able to express my dom the way I'd like to in the proper setting, it's always been toned down. I've felt guilty for, but you make me feel better about it. And I'm the anonymous from earlier, btw.
Well, in my experience*, the men who are cautious, uncertain, or initially feel guilty about their dominant desires are the sanest. That, to me, is a good sign. It shows that you’ve given it a lot of thought, and your guilt is indicative of empathy. At least, that’s how I see it. Honestly, I’m not so sure I’d trust anyone who’s never struggled internally with dominant desires. So it sounds like you’ll be okay. Glad I could make you feel better about it! Keep it consensual. :)
*experience = all the dominant men I’ve ever spoken to in the 2 years I’ve had this blog. They’re not all good eggs, believe me. ;)
Q:You have a way of making me feel like I want to be your dom. Nice work.
It doesn’t sound like your domly feels are elicited very often, anonymous. In any case, thanks. :)
Tonight, while composing a text to a very vanilla friend, my phone autocorrected “I’m only” to “I’m kinky”. I kid you not.
iPHONE IS TRYING TO REVEAL ALL MY SECRETS.
Order me to the floor.
I’d love it there. I can’t think of anything that would humble me more, or anything that could put me in a more submissive mindset. You’d say, “Down, girl,” and I’d fall to my knees with the point of your finger. I’d press my cheek into the cold hardwood and let its solidity sooth me, fold my arms behind my back and be at peace. How could I not remember my place in a position like that? How could I not remember what I am and who I belong to?
I’d love the view the most. You’d appear so much bigger from down there, so much more powerful. I’d glance up at you and feel the tiniest I’ve ever felt, especially with your shoes so close to me. I’d literally be at your feet, where I belong, and that’s one of those things that gets me hot just as much as it makes me swoon. You’d walk around me and I’d feel the floor vibrating with every step. I’d feel it shake through my body, hear it loud in my ears, and that would only emphasize my place. It would remind me that I’m there to serve you in any way you desire, that I’m there to please and obey. Of course, I’m also there because you like having me at your feet. You like looking down and seeing me smile up at you, you like petting me like the pretty little pet that I am, you like that I’m close enough to quickly take your cock in my mouth, and you love that I love it. It ends up being a pretty decent arrangement, don’t you think?
But let’s not ignore how uncomfortable the floor would be after an extended amount of time. Let’s not ignore that my muscles would begin to ache and I’d be left with red dents in my skin, whether they be from wood or carpet. Here’s a not-so-secret: I’d probably like that, too. Maybe not immediately, but certainly afterwards. Afterwards, when I’m admiring the red marks on my knees and stretching out my stiff muscles. Afterwards, when you’re allowing me to rest on your lap instead. That’s when I’d actually start to miss the discomfort of the wood, miss the feeling I’d get from being fucked right there on the floor. I’d miss feeling so high.
I’d miss the high of being placed so wonderfully low.
Okay, but what if I have a bus-induced orgasm?
I have been on public transportation for the past 45 minutes, and I’ve been daydreaming about really kinky things nonstop. Naturally, this has made me relatively horny.
However, I am currently on bus #2, sitting towards the back, and MY SEAT IS VIBRATING LIKE MAD. It’s not just vibrating, guys, it’s vibrating HARD. The bus’s engine is stimulating me even more! This is not okay! It feels really good if I sit up straight and push my hips down. This is not okay, either.
I need cums right meow.
Would you choose the red plug just so you can make me match?
Of course you would. There will come a time when I won’t need to wear plugs on a daily basis, when you will have fucked my ass so often that the training isn’t necessary. Nevertheless, you’d plug me just because you love how it looks. You love how it makes me look like your anal whore, so you’d grab the reddest plug of them all with a sadistic plan in mind. I would find myself taken by the neck and led to the bed, ordered on all fours only seconds before I’m filled with the plug. You’d tell me how pretty I look in red, how beautifully it stands out against my skin tone. You’d pause for a moment and then shake your head. “You need to wear more of it,” you’d say. “I’m going to help you with that, kitten.”
So you’d start spanking me, and you’d spank me hard. You’d tell me that you’re going to spank me until my ass is as bright as that plug, until it’s glowing and hot to the touch. After all, you know how meticulous I am about matching. I’d cry out with every strike, and your cock would grow harder and harder. I’d be praying in my head, Am I red enough yet?, but the pain would seem endless. The moment I start sniffling, you’d offer your cock as a reprieve. You’d start fucking my wet little pussy, but you wouldn’t stop spanking me, not until I was the perfect shade of red. My head would swim in pleasure and pain, and I’d be drowning in it until you tell me to beg. You’d tell me to beg you to fuck me in the ass, that you wouldn’t stop spanking me until I had convinced you of my wantonness. I would be red enough then. I may even be redder than the plug itself, but the game will have shifted at your whim.
So the room would be filled with loud slaps, sobs, and the repetition of “Please, Daddy”, over and over and over. The longer and louder I begged, the harder you’d fuck me, until I seemed desperate enough for your cock in my ass. The moment your hard cock replaced the plug would be a moment of absolute pleasure and gratitude, and the sound of desperate sobs would be replaced by the sound of moans. I’d thank you for fucking my ass as though you hadn’t ordered me to beg for it first. After all, you always make me crave the most devious of things.
No wonder red is supposed to be such a whorish color.
You would think that I wouldn’t still be horny after having four orgasms this morning.
But I’m still horny after having four orgasms this morning.
Let’s play a game where I can’t cum until you do.
The rules are very simple. It only requires one hard cock, one hungry mouth, and one relentless hand. You’ll kneel next to me on the bed and I’ll take you between my lips, sucking just as enthusiastically as I always do. Your hand will wander all over my naked body, toying with my nipples, stroking and squeezing every inch of me. It wouldn’t be enough to totally distract me, but that’ll change when you roughly push my legs apart. You’ll order me to keep them spread and I’ll whimper as you start rubbing me, slowly but firmly.
Expert that you are, you’ll know exactly how to work my body. You’ll know exactly how and where to touch, how many fingers to use, how fast to rub and finger-fuck. It wouldn’t be long before I stopped focusing on your cock and started focusing on the pleasure you give me. It may be inevitable, but it won’t be allowed. So you’ll slap me and tell me focus on the task at hand. You’ll tell me not to even think about cumming - that won’t happen until I make you cum, and even then it’s not guaranteed. Oh, it would be so difficult. I’d be moaning around the length of you, writhing feverishly and lifting my hips towards your hand, all while desperately trying to give you release. That desperation would manifest in a mouth that sucks vigorously, a chin that drips with saliva, and hands that clutch the sheets in an effort to rein in a disobedient orgasm. My jaw would go slack from time to time, overcome with a heady combination of ecstasy and determination, but you’d use pain as a means of bringing me back.
You know you’re being deliberately cruel. You’re bringing me to the edge again and again, only to make me lose focus. You do it so you can hit me, so you can hear me cry out, because the sound gets you close. It would be a cycle of sucking, rubbing, pleasure, and pain, over and over until your muscles are tensing along with mine. I’d feel your touches become erratic and your breathing quicken, feel you swell in my mouth as I’m dangling off my own edge.
As soon as I’d feel the first drop of your cum, I like to imagine that you’d let me cum, too. Despite shaking and panting with an orgasm, I’d also like to think that I’d still keep you in my mouth. I’d still swallow everything you’d give me.
That’s the kind of slut you’d have trained me to be.
Q:Are you training your ass? Do you watch or read anal porn to get you "warmed up" for your ass training?
Not really. I play with it sometimes when I masturbate, but nothing that could be considered serious “training”. Anal porn is something that I watch if I just happen to come across it (and if it looks like it might be pretty hot), but I don’t use it for the purpose of butt-masturbation warm ups.
Q:I want to see you cum
Pillow humping was my favorite winter break activity.
There was nothing quite like waking up and knowing that I could take my time getting off. I didn’t have to rush to class afterwards, didn’t have to quickly rub one out before stumbling out of bed. Instead, I could edge for as long as I wanted. I could strip out of my pajamas and toss them to the floor before rolling over onto my stomach and groggily reaching for the pulsing warmth between my thighs. That’s precisely what I did, morning after morning.
But it wasn’t enough to masturbate the usual way. It wasn’t enough to rub myself to orgasm, to rock my hips against my hand. Something about all that time in the morning made me want to do something sluttier. Naturally, I decided to use the innocent white pillow under my head. I’d fold it in half and straddle it like a man’s hips. My pretty pink bra would land on top of the other discarded clothing, and my nipples would harden to the cold air. I’d leave my panties on, because everything feels so much naughtier that way. The fold in the pillow was firm against my aching pussy, and I’d squeeze the pillow between my thighs to make it even firmer.
Then, I rode that pillow like a hard cock. I had edged for a few minutes beforehand, so my pussy was already a hot, wet, throbbing mess. The pillow was settled perfectly against my swollen clit, and I could hardly control my need. I imagined I was riding a man’s cock, imagined that my moans were mixing with his. I imagined that the hands on my tits were larger and rougher, squeezing and pinching mercilessly. It felt so fucking good to get off that way, to literally rut against something like an animalistic, out-of-control thing. I really was animalistic and out-of-control, grinding against the untainted object I dreamt on. I rocked against it roughly, desperately, feeling an indescribable pleasure and getting so close, so fast. I could watch myself in the mirror next to my bed, could watch my panties slip into my ass as I urgently moved my hips. I could watch my tits sway with the movement, could watch my ponytail come loose and my mouth fall open as I got closer…. and closer…
Eventually, my hips would rock less rhythmically and more erratically, until I was grinding hard and cumming even harder, collapsing into a sweaty heap on the mattress.
Too bad there had never been an equally sweaty body to collapse on top of.
Things I’ve daydreamed about for an entire month:
- bum grabs
- braless, through-the-shirt breast molestation
- being trained to crawl (ft. riding crop)
- make out sessions that escalate into biting sessions
Q:It's inevitable that one day you would stop updating this blog but no matter what please do not delete/deactivate this blog. I haven't come across a more erotic blog. Thank you.
Oh, anonymous, you saying that makes me want to give you a squishy hug. Honestly, I don’t see myself deleting/deactivating, ever. Since this blog is a documentation of my submissive journey, I like to think that I’ll still be updating it long after my fantasies have become reality. No, especially after my fantasies have become reality. This is just my kinky place, you know? It’ll be my kinky place for as long as I’m kinky, even if no one reads it anymore and even if I stop writing about all the kinky things.
I’m sure updates will eventually become infrequent and then stop altogether, but I see no reason to totally deactivate. Even if someone in my RL found this blog, I’d probably just change my URL or something. So, it looks like I’ll be around for a while. Try not to get sick of me. ;)