Franken-Toy

More and more I've been thinking about the various men I have met and been with throughout my life. Sometimes I find myself wishing I could take a small souvenir of them to build what I've dreamed in my mind as: Franken-Toy.

Franken-Toy would be my personal fuck toy. He would look, think, act, and do everything I wanted, sometimes without me having to say a word. Franken-Toy doesn't work, he doesn't have friends, he doesn't have hobbies, he is often seen not heard (if that's what I desire), and his sole purpose in life is to pleasure me. Oh yeah and he's all mine.

Let me give you the specifics of Franken-Toy (and just for the record making Franken-Toy from various men does not imply that I didn't like them for whom they were, or that I am currently desiring something different, just that my mind wanders late at night when I try to overturn the insomnia):

FRANKEN-TOY (From top to bottom then insides)

Has the hair of a surfer/model I dated in high school. This guy had jet black, thick hair that always tumbled in the most perfect way. It was extremely good for grabbing when he went down on me.

Borrows the eyes of my college professor whom I fucked (I already had an "A" in the class, he was just extra credit). He had the bluest eyes I have ever seen and they always looked friendly. They did that thing where they crinkle in the corners when he smiled...

Takes almost any nose of a guy I have dated. I have a thing for larger noses: think Ringo Starrish. Bonus points for it being pointy.

Shares a mouth from a one-night stand guy I met on Craigslist. He had full, plump, pink, very suckable lips...they were so hot I have almost forgotten the way his 10-inch cock felt inside me.

He's also taking the dimples of the local iHop waiter I recently encountered. Even though that waiter has many more assets to choose from...

..............down lower

He has the replica of the body of the bodybuilder I fooled around with. Just chest, arms, and legs. I hate bodybuilders and too much muscle in general but this guy was at the sweet spot before he got "too bulky". He was toned in all the right places and had beautiful abs.

The ass of a previous but recent sub is a must! Slightly tight but bouncy enough to spank and watch jiggle. Mmmm!

Let's take the feet from my first (and best friend). He is one of the few men I know who gets pedicures and takes care of his feet. I have a thing about feet and toes so whenever I see his I get excited because they are above average in cleanliness.

Ahh...now the most important part...his penis. I'm giving Franken-Toy the cock of my ex from a few years ago. I've been with a lot of men...a lot...but my ex had a stellar cock. It was not 8 inches (which I've read is the perfect length for most women) but it was about 7-7.5. It was pink, thick, uncut, and stayed rock hard for hours! He also always kept is cock oddly clean so I thoroughly enjoyed going down on him no matter when it was. When I told him he had the best cock I had ever had, I wasn't lying.

As for what I want his personality to be, I lied. I don't care what Franken-Toy wants. As I mentioned above, it's really all about serving me! If he's a good toy and listens to everything I say we'll get along just perfectly.

Rant: Who cares what you want anyway?

If you're a submissive male and you've signed yourself up for BDSM, you might as well signed in blood. You beg, plead, throw grown men tantrums, and all but cry to get the things you "want". But honestly it's never about what you want.

Part of your submissive appeal is that you are just that...submissive. If you haven't already, go look that up...I'll wait. Yes, see the part where it says 'submitting'? Ahh, glossed over that little bit did ya? Well next time re-read carefully! If you have been chosen to be under my heel then you better damn well get use to the smell of feet. I don't know about other Mistresses but I have usually picked my submissive because we have the same sexual interests or he has been foolish enough to list them as "willing to try anything." I might even have given him the chance to explicitly tell me the things he most enjoys.

Boys, that's your one and only cue to tell me what you want, other than that don't mention it! I am tired of submissives writing me with lists of the things they will 'only' do but stating I can do whatever I like with them. Today class we'll learn the lesson of an oxymoron. But seriously guys, your place is to be submissive...cater to our every whim, please when me even I say I don't really want it, and to anticipate ways to make me smile.

In return you will get our happiness...and isn't that enough to make your balls tingle?

slave Vs. Boyfriend

The epic theoretical battle that I've been fighting with in my head for a couple of months. If the two were liquids, they'd be oil and water. They are not meshing well.

Each has their own pros and their own cons.

The Boyfriend: The traditional beau. He'll woo you until he gets you (or gets you in bed), then it's back to "Mediocre Matt."

If you like guys who show up late, would rather watch sports than be with you, and will forget your birthday and any other special occasions then this is what you're looking for. He is mildly selfish and expects things to be at least 50-50 (but honestly, they never really are) and wants you to be interested in his hobbies without little to no disregard for yours.

He's great for holiday photo-ops, reliable sex, remembering your work schedule, showing off around your single friends, putting off creepy one-liner Kings at bars, and reaching things on top shelves.

Try being bossy with him and he'll tell his buddies you're PMSing and eye-roll at you behind your back.

The slave: A Domme's dream come true. Despite his best efforts he does screw up but instead of getting upset with him, you both understand some paddling to his backside will help him remember his place.

His main goal is whatever you are craving. One of his sole purposes is making and seeing you happy and he tries to do this by anticipating what you will need or want. Hot bath, foot massage, pussy worship, fixing dinner, he's on it!

When he humps you in the middle of the night and you don't want to deal with it, you scold him before putting on his cock cage and settling in for a good slumber, but best of all there's no peep from him.

As one dimensional as he is you are still surprised and delighted by his ever-constant submission.

As much as I love a man who doesn't question my authority, I also like someone who can make decisions when I ask. I want someone who massages my feet when I need it and doesn't tell me that they are tired. I like to be praised, wanted, and desired but when I want my alone time, I want my alone time. I want a boyfriend and I want a slave, preferably within one person. I am just worried how these two are ever suppose to merge? How are we suppose to ever go from just bf/gf to Mgf/sbf?

Calculated compensation

I almost forget how much I enjoy seeing the look on my new bf's face when we are playing. It's a heavenly mixture of fear and arousal that gets me wet just thinking about it.

We've been playing on and off when we see each other at night. One night he begged me to spank him; to turn his ass cheeks red. I obliged humbly as he knows spanking is one of my top three favorite things to do to him. I've noticed that he's been calling me 'Mistress' more and more frequently (if you remember he never referred to me by name for the first 2 months he knew me) and I can't deny that I like the shivers it gives me. As his stress level increases so does his submissive tendencies. It's really got me wondering if for him, the two are tied together, if this really is something that helps him de-stress. How many times have you thought to yourself, "I just wish someone would do this for me" or "I wish I didn't have to make this decision"? That's essentially what happens, by putting me in charge, if only for a couple of hours he is able to let his mind wander freely and just enjoy being my slave and serving me however I see fit.

We're feeding off each other like symbiotic sexual beings, he craves, I deliver, and the cycle continues.

I helped him move out of his old apartment this week, it was 6 grueling hours well past sunrise of carrying things up and down three flights of stairs, packing cars, driving, and doing it all again. We were exhausted at 8am when we all but passed out like worker bees in my bed.

My muscles ached, I was tired, hungry, sleepy, frazzled and when he touched the outside of my pussy lips, I realized I was also slightly horny. Here we were, two highly sore meat sacs still wanting to fuck each others brains out. But first there would be some teasing, some biting, scratching, hair pulling, and sucking. He's gotten rather good at sucking...he was always good with his mouth, but now he sucks my toes, my fingers, my nipples till they perk up, and anywhere else he can get his mouth. It's definitely a feeling I am enjoying. By the end of it all I was too worn out to even resist him parting my thighs and sliding his rock hard cock between them. I usually like to be the one to give the 'go-ahead' for intercourse but that night I couldn't even muster a "slower please". I was like putty.

For this night of moving, now with getting up for work a few short hours ahead, I told him that he owed me...big.

"Anything you want Mistress, you name it," was his truthful reply.

So I waited and I thought about it...and I decided what I wanted. Then, last night before the throws of sleep crept upon us I whispered in his ear.

"I know what I want."

"You always do," he mumbled into his pillow.

I laughed, "No, for helping you move, I know what I want." I said again.

He didn't say anything.

"Don't you want to know what it is?" I goaded him.

"Yes Mistress, tell me what you want," he said.

"I want 3 things," I begin.

Now he turned his face towards mine. I beamed back at him.

"Okay 1: I want you to make me dinner one night. 2: I want to go somewhere with you, somewhere that isn't my bed and 3: I want you to be my slave for 24 hours with no limits." The words tumbled from my mouth.

"Okay Mistress," was his reply.

"Okay? That's not too much is it?" I asked.

"No Mistress, I told you whatever you wanted. But no limits means that I cannot speak freely?" he asked.

"Yes, and you know I don't like the words 'No' and 'Why' unless you ask permission to ask a question." I stated.

"So no limits? I do whatever you say?' he asked again.

"Yes, unless it will cause death," I told him honestly.

"Okay Mistress. I promise to make you proud," he said before kissing me fully on the lips and turning over to sleep.

It's nights like last night I miss seeing him naked, collared, and ass red for me. But really...he's in for a fun filled night because doesn't really know what he's agreed to!

Want to play a game?

That's what the new bf whispered to me tonight while we were lying in bed tonight. We had just winded down an intense ten minutes of biting and scratching and dry humping and he sounded almost out of breath with his question. 

"What kind of game," I asked him playfully. 

"A game where you're a Mistress and I'm a slave" he responded. 

This was said with no hesitation at all on his part. I thought before answering: Are we ready for this? Honestly even though the month has only begun he has been having a streak of bad luck; two broken cars, work stress, family issues, broken laptop...and today a bad haircut was added to the list. As he quizzed me on where his collar and leash were I realized he not only really wanted this, he needed it. The more we talked about it the more I realized this might help him de-stress a bit. And I can't lie and say I wasn't eager to resume my rightful role as his Mistress. 


"You're only my slave while the collar is on and you know the safety word. When the collar is off we'll be done," I reminded him as I fished out his collar and leash from my sex toy box. 

He nodded eagerly with his hands already clasped behind his back. I immediately ordered him to strip. He did this in a flash. Then I put the collar and leash on him. It fit like an old glove and I made him model it for me before he got on his knees. Oh, the sight of him back on his knees again was almost too much but I played it cool. 

"Bend over and put your hands on the couch!" I ordered. He did as he was told.

"Last night your Mistress was horny. So horny and you were not here to please her," I said this as I begin to spank his ass. 

He moaned and squealed. "Thank you Mistress," were the only words he needed to say. 

I tugged on his leash between his legs as I alternated between spanking him and biting his thighs. 

Okay, okay, I am officially ready to admit I have an oral fixation. I made him finger me and God was I wet. I made him put his face between my thighs and then I closed them tightly around his head. I could feel him wiggling his tongue and rubbing his lips against my pussy under my panties. 

"May I touch my Mistress?" he asked when I finally let him up for air. I shook my head and said, "No, ask me again later." 

Between the fingering and the teasing of his face I was getting too worked up so I made him get back on his knees then I pulled his leash taunt. He was now close to my face when I commanded him to open his mouth. I spit in his mouth and just as he was swallowing I slapped him in the face. 

"Thank you Mistress," were again his words. 

My head was reeling. I love seeing submission in action more than anything and hearing him thank me for something others might want to punch me for turned me on. The techno music in the background was almost in time when I continued with my spankings as I heard the lyrics: "I don't mean to when I hurt you. But I need you, I can show you." What was this song that was randomly playing? 

I placed clothespins on his nipples, then on his balls, tied him up with his own leash, I spanked him some more, I even found myself caressing him at some point (something I rarely did when we were only Mistress/slave). But, eventually my desires got the best of me and I made him get the dildo. This time I did cum with it. Then I told him afterward that I wanted to see him cum for me and he obeyed like a good boy. After what I would describe as our session, he asked me how he did and if I liked it. We talked about it some and that felt good because we never really did that before. He said what was I thinking which was, he would like us to have both BDSM and vanilla in our relationship, not just one or the other. 

I'm hoping we can find a fitting balance for us. I have to admit I've been feeling a bit selfish lately. He has family in town from overseas (they've been here since July) and they are scheduled to be living in about 10 days. We don't get to spend much time together on a daily basis just an hour or two here and there, and always late in the evening. I'm beginning to feel like the ugly step-child here who can only come out once all the normal folks go off to bed but I realize he's being a good host, son, and brother and once they leave I'll have him all to myself again. 

But really, patience is NOT a virtue of mine. Not to mention I found out last night an old fling of mine just tied the knot with some eHarmony Ho. So, I'm feeling a bit dejected but trying to think positively... 

So anyway the positive---the countdown has begun: T Minus-10 Days

You be you and I'll be me

I woke up this morning naked, drunk, in a strange apartment and slightly sore between my legs. I know, that's one hell of a Thursday night...but let me back up the story so I don't come off sounding like a five-dollar hooker who was slipped some roofies. 

Tuesday night I had my first real kiss in 16 days. It was soft. It was smoky. It was sincere. And it was from my former slave. On Tuesday my former dropped off some items of mine that he had. I was asleep when he did so. Later that night I got a hold of him because he said he was going to burn the journal that he had been keeping for me when we were together. I couldn't let that happen. I'm a firm believer that once something is written, it can't and shouldn't be unwritten. He said I could have it if I didn't want him to burn it. So we met. 

He came to my house and I had a bag of his things left behind waiting for him. It was a quick and sterile exchange. He handed me the journal and I handed him the bag. I offered him his slave registration certificate (the birthday present I gave him earlier this month) but he refused stating that he wasn't my slave anymore. He turned around and left. He was like the wind, gone almost as fast as he had arrived.  

Once back inside I looked thru the journal; foolishly hoping that there would be a hidden message for me somewhere in it but there wasn't. But I did realize that he had put our contract and some other papers within the journal. This coupled with his rejection of the slave registration made my heart heavy. I felt like we were just two passing strangers and these papers, these words that could never be unwritten were our only connection. I started feeling depressed with such thoughts so I tried to distract myself, I started looking for work. While I was in the middle of that mindless task he texted me. We talked about not hating one another, this is where I informed him I could never hate him. He was too special and I loved him too much to ever feel that way about him. I was glad to hear that he felt the same. 

Somehow in our chatting I mentioned that I wanted to hug him earlier but he seemed set on just giving me the journal and then leaving. He said he could come give me a goodbye hug. And he did. "This is probably the last time we'll ever see each" was the first thing he said upon arrival. When he came back later and pulled up in the same manner as before so I thought he was just going to give me a hug then get in his car and leave but we begin talking and actually stood outside for almost 2 hours. The time was filled with rehashing our mistakes, future plans (he's thinking of moving back overseas), hugging, tears (from me), and his kisses. He asked me before he kissed me, which I thought was sweet. I couldn't decline...even if he had smoked several cigarettes beforehand. He finally said he was going home to sleep and I stood on the sidewalk and watched his tail lights disappear into tiny red blotches that were almost non-existing .  

All Wednesday I thought about him. I thought that I had gotten good at pushing him out of my mind. I had almost convinced myself I was on the road to moving on but after seeing him, just for that first few minutes I knew I wasn't. I loved him as much as ever and seeing him again just made me miss him so much more. In the midst of my daze my friends impolitely reminded me that I had canceled my date with the potential slave on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. That was the 5th "date" I've canceled. I'm hoping my friends get the message that I don't want to be set up. I did talk to this slave because he was interesting and was a good conversationalist but emotionally I cannot have anyone else. It's still him. He's still the one. Thursday lulled by. I talked with my ex about what I was feeling and what I should do but of course no definite determination was decided. "Whatever happens happens" was his ending response.  

Thursday night I got a call from my former. He wanted to meet for drinks. He said he was bored and was looking for something to do. I agreed to meet him because he sounded lonely and I missed him, it was a win-win situation. At first at the bar we seemed to not really be there. We seemed outside of ourselves, viewing the tedious, polite conversation from above. It wasn't until we were on our 5th beer and 1st shot of vodka that things loosened up a bit. We got drunk. Really, really drunk. It felt like we were the only two people in the crowded bar. We laughed, we talked, we connected again. And there was honesty. Somehow it was decided that we go back to his place. I had never been before (this was something I desperately wanted before when we were together) so even in my drunken stupor I was excited. God only knows how I managed to drive to his apartment but I did...and all without crashing (please no hate comments on drunk driving, it's very bad I know I know). 

When we got there we continued making out as we had in the bar. As usual when I drink, my clothes starting coming off. I began biting him and tugging at his clothes. Naked in bed we talked some more and he asked me if I would stay the night. 

He said he didn't want me to leave. I wasn't planning on leaving...  

"What the fuck are we doing?" he asked me at some point.  

"What feels right" I replied.  

We cuddled, we kissed, he kissed me all over my body, we made love where be begged to fill me, and eventually we fell asleep in each other's arms. The sex was a somewhat primal, passionate, but needy act that didn't feel forced or wrong. It felt beautiful. Last night we weren't Mistress and slave...we were just him and me. He woke me up this morning with more kisses and more attempts at love making.

A girl could get use to waking up to this every morning...

Is there beauty in the breakdown?

It's funny how when you first embark on something new and unfamiliar you find yourself trying to predict what will befall you. Sometimes, I try to think of the most absurd things happening and then try to plan ahead for that. I am a planner with things that are important to me. I try to live life as freely as possible. I often take a 'Carpe Diem' stance on most things. 

But, if I've closed my eyes and pointed to a map to find my next destination place, I spend hours planning on what I'll do there. I'm a detail person. I also am a list maker (if you haven't noticed here in my blog). I like seeing things visually written out for me to better grasp what's going on, what will happen, and to also make sure I'm not forgetting anything that might make a difference. Six years ago when I decided I was going to give being a Mistress a real shot I was scared. Frightened, kept awake at night at the very thought that this was something beyond the unknown and unfamiliar.  

This would be changing the very essence of my life around to include something that I felt I wanted to partake in on a more serious level. I did spend innumerable amounts of time thinking of all the things good and bad that could happen. I wanted to be fully prepared for whatever this BDSM world had to throw at me. Most importantly I wanted to learn. I wanted to take in everything there was. I wanted to see, smell, touch, spank, and immerse myself fully into the lifestyle. And no, it didn't happen all at once. It's been 6 years and I am still learning. I am still finding out new things about the lifestyle and most certainly myself. In all my lists, planning, writing, and brainstorming, and what-ifs, I never thought of the one challenge I have stumbled upon.  

What if I fall in love?  

What if I find a slave that I cherish and love and want to spend more than just Mistress/slave time with? What if this person makes me laugh and smile? What if the very thought of this person's scent gives me butterflies in my stomach? What if a day without this person feels empty? What if I hurt that person? What if nothing I could do would make them fully recover?  

What if love just isn't enough?

I pride myself on being a logical woman. I don't cry over spilled milk easily. I most certainly don't get frantic about clothing and how other females view me. I don't need attention from men to know I love myself and I am beautiful. And that's the funny thing about love...it make make a sane woman rather crazy. It literally turns the logical into the illogical. Feeling and doing are now on two separate ends of the spectrum. It seems logical: If my slave and I are having trouble, fix it. The end. It's not that cut and dry. Sometimes fixing an emotional problem takes more than emotional duct tape. This is the very thing I sometimes feared when life was mundane but forgot to include when the Mistress part of me took over.  

Sometimes, love just might not be enough....  

...and there are no comforting words to make you feel any better.

Cake eater

I've been thinking about all the things I enjoy about being a Mistress... 

-The flinching of a sub as I raise my paddle 
-The sound of spanking 
-The weight behind a collar tug (the sub following) 
-Seeing a sub on their knees 
-Thinking of creative punishments 
-Turning the idea of "slavery" around (not viewing it as a negative) 
-Giving a sub one look and watching them bow 
-The foot worshipping
-Perfecting the art of Tease & Denial 
-Undying devotion 
-Chastity, chastity, chastity
-Knowing that I know what's best
-Spitting in a sub's mouth 

...ahh...this is the stuff dreams are made of.

Training day

My slave and I are training again....and it brings a smile to my face and a crack in my whip. I'll be devoting some time to properly track our progress. If you're interested please check it out the new blog when I make it available to the public. It'll be updated regularly and accurately.

Day 2: Will I ever be the same?

It's 9am. I type this as my former sleeps in my bed.

He breathes heavily and softly all at once, almost sounding like a soft motor in a car. It seems effortless. You'd almost forget he's hurting. I stare at his face, studying the lines and definitions, that even in the darkness of the room I can still make out from the splashing sunshine thru the door cracks. I want to touch him and be touched by him. When I graze his face lightly with the back of my hand he purrs softly but does not wake. You'd almost forget that he his hurting. I don't want to forget him. I don't want to forget what he looks like so peaceful so I look harder at his closed eyes, his soft lips and beautiful skin. I want to feel him kiss me. Kiss my feet and place those tiny, quick kisses all over my body again...but somehow I am not sure I deserve that ever again. 

He came over because I texted him that I just needed someone. I didn't want to be alone. Not tonight. Not again. And without words he came. I almost thought I was dreaming when he walked thru the door. Surely I did not deserve his kindness. But we talked and still...he was angry. And rightfully so. He said that for now he would be my friend and nothing more.

This is more than I could ask for. He is concerned with my sleeping. This is Day 2 without him, but Day 4 for me with no real sleep. I get 20 minutes here and there but my mind is too busy and my heart is too heavy for slumber to overcome me. He tries everything to help me fall asleep, even holding me close to him; an opportunity I selfishly take to inhale his intoxicating scent. But tonight I do not smell his cologne. I just smell him, it is a bit sweet with his sweat and own body scent. This is the first time I have smelled him and I like this better than the cologne.

I crawled out of bed while he fell asleep. He had a bad dream and called out my name, my actual name not "Mistress" and I awoke him to make sure he was okay. I am assuming it was a bad dream because surely he cannot think well of me...even in his dreams.

After he fell quickly back to sleep I came here...to my addiction. Writing. Typing. It soothes me when nothing else will do. I go by Mistress L. I use to tell people the "L" stood for Lovely. But now I think it stands for something else: Loser, Lame, Liar, Lost... I am not myself. I cannot eat. I cannot sleep. All I do is think and the thoughts are ever consuming. He says that we will just have to see what happens, that good things happen to good people.

But what happens to good people who do bad things? Are they granted deliverance? Or are they eternally scarred, never fully to recover from their shame?

What's mine is yours???

Owning a slave is much like owning a bike. You don't just loan your bike to anyone. Maybe your sister (after insistent begging), your neighbor and your best friend. I did the latter. I let my friend play with my slave last night. 

She had begged and begged and since I was feeling nice I decided "What the heck?" The evening started off carelessly enough, eating out, light drinking...I was sure that they didn't like each other because they weren't interacting much and my friend being the brass sass she is stated that my slave smelled like he "bathed in his cologne" (it's the scent I often mention that I adore). 

But he brushed her off thankfully. Perhaps he won her over by paying her bill or downing four beers as she would've but by the end of dinner things seemed lighter. We drove back to my place to prepare for the duel Domme session. For all intent purposes my friend is a switch. She claims to be a sub but she enjoys delivering pain almost as much as she enjoys receiving it. That night she was honing in on her dominant side. She asked me if I would blindfold him because his eyes were 'too pretty' to look at while she would be whipping him. A thought I've often had but am slowly but surely getting over.  

I prep/pep talked my slave before anything started. I let him know that he didn't have to do this, there would be no assplay, and that he could use the safety word at any time. But his only response was "I will do this Mistress".  

And so it began...

I tied him to a chair in the bedroom. He sat there blindfolded, God knows what going thru his mind. I told him that he was to show the same respect to my friend as he showed me (he was to refer to her as Queen and me as Mistress), use manners, and again that the safety word was the only thing that could help him. She immediately placed the clothespins I had so absent-mindedly suggested on each of his nipples, his light moan got my blood flowing a bit. I began a combination of biting and kissing all along his thighs as she pinched the clothespins tighter. 

She whipped him in his chest and he said, "Thank you Queen". I tied his feet together at the ankles and began biting his neck as she continued to whip him, further down his body now. After a few moments I told him to stand and then get on all fours. This is when her Domme side really came out. As she took the whip I had given her and begin to what I can only describe as 'punish' his back. I crawled underneath of him and put two more clothespins on his nipples. 

He exerted the moan I loved hear once more. "Thank you Mistress" were his only words. I slid out from under him and took one of the ice cubes we had in the room and began rubbing it on his back where red marks were already starting to appear. I handed my friend the leather paddle I had, in hopes that he would be subjected to less pain but it seemed the paddle gave her more power. She begin paddling his ass beyond a bright rosy red until he had said it was too much. 

She backed off slightly but did not stop.  

Whack!  
Whack!
Whack!
Whack!

Her paddle slaps made a rhythmic almost hypnotizing sound. I broke the cycle by telling my slave to beg for more. When we were finished spanking him I ordered him to the bed. It was there we played with his cock and I clipped a wireless vibrating nipple clamp to his balls. He took to this very well. I had been meaning to shave my slave's chest and this seemed like a good time.


"I am leaving you alone with Queen slave, you are to listen to her" I announced as I left the room I heard a faint almost fearful "Yes Mistress".  

In the bathroom I counted as I got the water, razor and shaving cream ready. I promised myself not to leave my slave alone longer than 120 seconds but as I quickly approved 97 in my head I realized I might have been too late. When I walked him I could hear my slave moan and see his body arching up. My friend was scratching his entire chest area. 

As I came closer, even in the darkly lit room I could see that she had left a trail of where her nails were in his flesh. 

I tried not to focus on it much but whispered in his ear "You know the safety word" to which he nodded. I turned on the razor I had and it made an overly dramatic buzzing sound. My slave flinched...and rightfully so.

"Do you know what this sound is slave?" I asked over the humming.  

"No Mistress" was the most he could muster. I informed him that I would be shaving his chest. I would be shaving a letter "L" into his chest hair to remind him that I owned him. 

Even with my friend still scratching his stomach he remained very still as I shaved him. I sat on him before leaving and ordered him to say 'Thank You' to my friend. When he didn't say it loud enough I slapped him in the face until he did. When I returned after cleaning up the shaving items he was even more red. I wanted to kiss away his pain and so I began kissing his thighs and legs and stomach.  

"You know a slave is like a bicycle" I said to my friend after kissing his legs. 

"You've fucked up my ride," I stated motioning to my slave's chest.  

She giggled and replied," Ah come on, you baby him too much".  

Now my slave laughed with her. "Let's see how you like some pain" I said as I slapped her jean clad ass in an instant with the paddle I held in my hand.  

She squealed, unexpectedly. "And no one said you could laugh" I told my slave as I slapped his bare ass with the same paddle.  

I went back and forth slapping both their asses simultaneously. Her squealing, him moaning. I wondered in my mind if just two asses counted as a "spankfest" but they seemed to enjoy it. Somehow the evening started out with two Dommes and a slave and ended up with one Domme, a slave, and a very vocal sub. I like to think that's not a bad night by most people's standards...but I am not sure how often I will be lending my bike to my heavy-handed friend...not at least until my bike is all healed up.

2's a couple, 3's cool, 4's a crowd?

It's only been 3 days since I last wrote but it feels like I have been missing very important therapy sessions. Blogging (and writing in general) has always calmed me, helped me make sense of otherwise messy thoughts, and just downright feels and sounds good (with myself being a significantly above average typist).

But Mistress L what could have happened in a mere 3 days you ask?

Well in such a short time my slave and I have gone from near perfect harmony to...well...inharmonious. We have hit a few bumps in the road: orgasm denial, an additional slave, my bad communication, his bad assumptions.

The orgasm denial debacle started two weeks ago, when I gave my slave a masturbation regime. He was following it brilliantly, but then I changed it up (add bad communication) and he didn't follow thru (and a dash of his bad assumptions). Since then it has been an awful cat and mouse game between the two of us with our orgasms and "saving" them for each other.

Which apparently got fucked up today when I brought myself to orgasm twice without him.

The additional slave thing is not really an issue as so much a passing thought. I originally got a slave so that I could treat it like a slave. Unfortunately I have grown very fond of my slave (remember his disarming smile and bright eyes I mentioned before?) and it has become increasingly difficult for me to exhibit some of the actions that I am into or want to try.
 

Namely: face slapping, spitting in ones mouth, walking on/trampling, shoe worship, hair pulling, choking, complete objectification, body modification.

Now I know this list seems...well....not Mistress L-ish, but that's the point! To push your limits and find new boundaries. It just seems with my current slave I am unable to execute these for various reasons. We even got into our first argument about the issue the other night and it was not pretty.

I found an excellent candidate for a second slave, or at least to train for a bit. He is into all of these things. We'll call him slave 2. The tantalizing beauty of integrating him into my life is that he nearly has no limits, let me say that again....he has very very few limits. He has the obvious ones such as no children, animals, anything illegal, nothing with men, etc. But beyond that he is a clean  and open slate.

It's like giving a kid the key to the candy store or in this case...

Giving a Mistress the key to the sex shop. It's
downright hot!

I was hoping that by practicing these things on slave 2, I would in turn become more comfortable with implementing them into my current slave and mine routine. But he's really adamant against another slave. Even though he goes back and forth between reminding me he'd be upset and telling me to do whatever makes me happy. *sigh*

I have promised that I will not train another slave, especially one of this nature but I cannot deny that it is something that I seek to experiment with. The yearning for that will not die down easily.

Perhaps there is a middle ground to be struck....or maybe I just really do want too much?

Pack your bags ladies and gents

I saw my slave tonight (as do I most nights) and he was all smiles. That's one of the things I adore about him; he always has a very disarming smile on his face. So, after some training...he made the bed, rubbed my feet, kissed all over my body...and then we began our ritualistic talks. We covered many topics but somewhere along the way 

I happened to ask an interesting question: I asked him what he would do if I were to move to another state. After some thinking he said he would come with me. I reminded him that he had friends and family here and if he moved he would not have those. He said it wasn't that important. 

Then he said: "Would you take your car if you moved?"

"My car?" I asked confused.  

"Yes your car Mistress, would you take it if you moved?" he asked again.  

"Well yes, of course" I said quickly.  

"And why is that?" he asked.  

"Well I would need it" I said.  

"Exactly, and you own it. It is yours. You own me and I would be yours to take" he responded matter of factly.

I love when he says things like this to me. It is just a small kernel of devotion that reminds me that he is mine. I do own him; mind, body, and soul.

A Mistress gets what a Mistress wants

Tonight I briefly mentioned to my slave that I was toying with the idea of getting a second slave to help me with some of the BDSM events. The new slave would essentially be my lackey. 

But, he didn't seem to fancy this idea. To his credit his initial response was "Whatever you would like Mistress" But when I gave him permission to speak freely he said otherwise. He had some valid points...and he is currently my favorite (and only!) slave. 

Perhaps he is right...a boyfriend and a slave, what more could a girl really want???

@ my beck & call

Thursday night was a pleasant night, filled with tiny surprises throughout. =)

I had a busy, busy day. I attended a privately run BDSM costume party in Philly to photograph the event. The drive there was fun (I find driving very relaxing), the party was astonishing for such a small get-together, and the costumes were just great. I am however not able to post any pictures due to release forms (insert crowd "awww"). If you're reading this and I met you at the party please don't feel shy about saying 'hi'! It was a pleasure meeting all the new and interesting faces. But, I had to leave the party early to head back to DC. I was meeting my slave for a bit and then picking up the bf from his out of state bus ride to see me for the weekend. 

I came home, showered off the scent of heavy perfumes, sweat, leather, and a lot of sexual tension. I texted my slave that he was to come over and be waiting in his spot if I was still in the shower washing my hair. He was to stay there until I was finished. Luckily for him once he arrived at my apartment after work I was finished showering and such. He immediately put on his collar and leash (God, I love seeing him in it), and went to his spot until I called him in.

He had texted me earlier, "On my way over with bad news."

Now, I don't know about you but when I hear someone say "bad news" my mind immediately goes for the worse...at least that way if it's not the worst I am pleasantly surprised. So at the moment the worst I could think of was that he was moving out of country (he is from another country) and going back home. I hate to admit that however brief it was, there was a tightening in my chest at the thought of not being able to have him. So when I called him into the room I was sitting in I asked him,

"So tell me what this bad news is already"

To which he replied, "Please Mistress don't be mad or angry at me..."

I scrunched up my face in anticipation of what was to come.

"I lost my necklace, I can't find it." He said with slight panic in his voice.

Oh, just the damn necklace I thought in relief. Not that this necklace isn't important but it's not on the same scale as potentially losing your slave. The "necklace" we speak of is a set of necklaces that we decided to exchange when I took my slave as mine in training. They are a very elegant yet simple form of daytime collar that we wear at all times. He had not worn it the past two times I saw him and I had let it slide. But really if my slave forgets his (he is only allowed to remove it shower or swim) then he gets punished. Which is what happened next.

"Go to the bedroom and get in the punishment position," I said as sternly as I could muster. 

Granted he was in trouble and I was pretty annoyed that he'd lost the necklace we promised to wear and cherish, I was more excited that I'd get to spank him. I am not one of those Mistresses who hits their slaves just for the hell of it. I've got to have a good enough reason...good enough at least to me before I exhibit anything beyond general hair pulling, nipple biting, light smacking and the likes. This was exactly that. It would be the first time my slave would be punished.

I waited a few moments before walking to the bedroom where he half laid across the bed, ass in the air, hands over his head. I looked for my favorite leather paddle and tapped it a few times on my hand as I spoke to myself 

"This should be good" I muttered.

I walked over to my slave, rubbed his back then yanked down his boxers exposing his bare bottom. I took the paddle in my right hand and a handful of his hair in my left.

"Tell me you're sorry" I commanded.

SMACK! Before he could answer "I'm sorry Mistress."

"Louder!" I raised my voice.

"I'm SORRY Mistress," he repeated.

SMACK!

This time he jumped a little. "Tell me what you're sorry for" I tested him.

"I'm sorry for losing the necklace," he responded weakly.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! The black, leather paddle become one with my hand.

"That's right that you're sorry, tell me again" I stated again.

"I'm sorry Mistress, I'm sorry," this time I knew he meant it.

I smacked him a bit harder. He jumped at contact of the paddle and his ass.

"You are sorry. You are being disrespectful to your Mistress. You wear this necklace for a reason, what is that reason?" I asked him as I rubbed his back slowly in circles.

"I wear it to remind me that I am yours. You own me Mistress" he said.

This was an acceptable response. I smacked him a few more times for good measure, pulled up his boxers and then told him to get into the worshipping position. He did so immediately. I told him to stay in that position and count to 60 and then come to me in the living room.

After a minute he arrived in with a smile on his face. "Thank you Mistress" he said to me as he sat by my feet to rub them.

He is a good slave.

And it is for that reason that I permitted to get more than tipsy with him. He brought alcohol over and we had planned to drink lightly. We played a video game (he sucked haha), and drank beer and took shots. I do not know what other Mistresses do with slaves but I have found if I can connect with my slaves on more than a M/s level I receive better performances from them. So we drank and since I had not eaten since Philly all the alcohol I consumed was going straight to me. I ordered my slave to make me a cheese sandwich, which he did in a timely fashion but it was too late. The drinks were already taking affect. We talked and soon I began rubbing on him. This week he is going thru a masturbation training regime, where he is not to touch himself or orgasm unless the regime calls for it, which I know it doesn't until Saturday. Some days it specifies he can come close to orgasming but not complete it. One day he is to only rub himself on objects around his home.

"What's your task today?" I asked slyly.

"No touching or rubbing myself" he stated honestly.

I told him to get on his knees. "Well it says you can't touch or rub yourself, it doesn't say your Mistress can't," I teased as I reached inside his boxers and lightly grazed his cock with my fingertips.

"Yes Mistress" he said aloud.

I proceeded to tease him to no end. Describing to him how much I wanted to suck his cock but wouldn't. I held his dick in my mouth thru his boxers as he moaned continuously.

He knows how wet I get talking about going down on him so he pushed me back in the chair, which actually fell to the ground with me in it. I started giggling, drunk laughter as he spread my legs open. He rammed two fingers into my wet pussy and wriggled them around. I moaned softly to let him know that I was enjoying his touch. He inserted another finger. This time I moaned louder.

"Please Mistress, let me taste you" he begged.

"No" I said.
"Please Mistress, please," he begged again.
"No. And no matter how drunk I get tonight you are not to go down on me" I ordered half slurring.

"Yes Mistress, of course" he whispered as he began to fuck me again with his fingers.

I sat up (as best I could) and took his fingers into my mouth then sucked his nipples as he slid them back into me. 


We were like this for some time. Letting the ebb and flow of our sexual desire sway us in adjoining directions. It was a good feeling. At some point I made him bow down so I could take pictures of him. The drunken pictures of my slave actually weren't so bad.

Then I realized that I had lost all track of time.

"Shit, what time is it?" I asked frantically pulling my black silk skirt back up over my thighs.

"Umm...I dunno Mistress, I am sorry, let me look" my slave answered.

I realized that I was suppose to be at the station to pick up the bf 25 minutes ago.

"Shit, shit, shit...this is your fault slave" I said as I tried and failed to stand.

"Yes Mistress" was his response. He came to my side and helped me stand up.

I made him come with me to pick up the bf because I was still tipsy and worried that my driving would not be at its best. He begged not to come; as he likes to avoid any awkwardness with the bf but I told him he had no other option, so he did as he was told.

Once back home with the bf and slave I told my slave he could leave. I gave him the usual orders:
-Drive home slow and carefully (my slave has a lead foot and likes to disobey road signs)
-Text me when he got home
-Call me the following day

We kissed and I let him leave. Now I went in to the bf. He was tired from the 4.5 hour trip but still managed to give me a proper fucking later that night/morning. As hard as I tried not to, I did think about my slave watching me fuck the bf while he sat in his corner. I hope the couple I met who were into cuckolding and BDSM haven't rubbed off on me haha.

Hmmm...

Knock knock

You know your slave is doing a good job when he stops you in your tracks and he isn't even there...  

Today walking thru my kitchen I paused briefly because I thought I smelled my slave. Yes, I said smell. I have a very keen sense of smell and often associate smells with people. 

My slave wears a cologne that I have come to long and request he wear whenever he sees me; it is his scent. Almost religiously after he leaves my apartment, my sheets, clothes, hair, couch, and anything else he has touched or brushed passed smells like him. I thought I smelled it today in the kitchen. I kept going to the front door and seeing if he was waiting on the other side because sometimes he does that until I open the door for him. It took me a few minutes to realize that it was his collar on the front door leaving behind his alluring aroma. Ahh...what a wonderful aroma it is...