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I woke up this morning, after a million nightmares, it seems.
Last night was wonderful, Master took me out for a drink at some pretentious wine bar. I had a Malibu Barbie, and he had a Dirk Diggler. Mine had coconut milk, sake, and creamy goodness. It was delicious, and probably hopelessly fatty. I’m yoga-ing it off at the moment.
Master was treated to a full body massage when we got home, with lavender oil. After he was pleasured, I was chained to the bed, and we both fell asleep. I’m not sure why I had so many nightmares, it’s not like I have them all the time. Some were about my sister, and her yelling at me. It was so strange. I was so angry, but I couldn’t fight back. She’s not exactly the type to take me on in an argument in that way.
Master is coming home from work early, so he can take me to the independent theatre to see The Princess Bride with his niece. She’s older than I am, and I get a sick tickle of pleasure from that thought. Master is 10 years older than me, and that is always fun territory to play with.
I think today I’ll work more on my abs with balancing postures. There is only some cereal in the house, and considering that Master is taking me to dinner tonight, and that Barbie last night, I’m going to need to work out hard today.
Bob and Alice had been married for only a few years when he began to feel something was changing about their intimate life. Nothing bad, just a shift, and he couldn’t put his finger on just what it was. One evening they were watching a video, and in the opening scene, a man was tied to a bed, spread eagled, and a woman was riding him cowgirl, and riding him hard. Later in the scene, she would stab him to death, but well before that part, Bob heard Alice mutter under her breath, “wrong person’s tied down.”
The light went on in Bob’s brain.
He put two and two together and got the appropriate four. In this case, the first two were her urging him on to rougher and rougher elements in their lovemaking, and often saying “take it, take your f*cking piece” and the second two were her recent tendency to not say his name, calling him “sir,” “bubba,” “you bastard” or another of a multiple choices and the fact that she had stopped looking at his face when they had sex.
So, being a man who might do so, he decided to take a chance and test his “sexual arithmetic.” A couple of evenings later, he proposed blindfolding her, another recent idea that she brought to their coupling (should that be two plus two plus one equals five?) and she eagerly agreed. He had prepared the bedroom. After the blindfold was applied and everything else was removed, he lay her on her back on the bed, and sat on her, quite literally. Reaching for the two loops of cotton rope he’d set up on each head corner, under the pillows, he slipped them on, one hand on each of her hands quickly, and jerked his hands out lest he be trapped, as well. She jerked and lurched; he tied her feet; he tightened the ropes, and he f*cked her mercilessly. She came like he had never either seen or imagined.
They talked afterward, and she admitted some desires for things like being tied, not seeming to have a choice in being f*cked, being “forced” by spanking to submit to giving up a piece of pussy, etc, etc, etc. Being an astute man, he devised ways to capitalize on her desires, and after a time, their sexual escapades were all about her being tied or her being very submissive, either voluntarily or (supposedly) involuntarily.
All well and good? I think so. I imagine you think so.
Remember, he never went to a “BDSM store” to get “BDSM equipment” and he never went to a BDSM website to learn how to “do BDSM right.” He just learned what she needed, and found that he liked it, too, and went about using standard normal household items to meet her needs and feed his likes.
So, when, then, did they cross over from “vanilla” into “in the lifestyle?”
I wish I could make it to BlackBeat this year. It is really where my heart is. Still it looks to be fabulous even without me being there. If you can go, I would really suggest that you make the effort.
In 2009 Black BEAT moved it’s conference to a one day event, and as successful as it was, we’re ready to kick the recession in the butt! In 2010 we are back — up and running and all we need is YOU to make 2010 a huge success!! This year’s Welcome Back conference will take us back to our foundation to remind us all that Black BEAT is here to stay. We are planning to have a wonderful four day conference to include, BB presenters for your educational needs and a group of vendors for you to shop til you drop, and not to mention two (2 ) nights of fabulous play at The Crucible!
We are going old school, so pull out and pack up all your Black BEAT T-shirts, hats, totes and pins and join us for one big family reunion. .
On Thursday we’re going to kick things off with a group dinner followed by Club Black BEAT.We’re going to turn things up a notch with a kinky good ole time inside the host hotel. Kinky drink specials will await you plus some lively entertainment. Later that evening, join us upstairs on the VIP floor for a few After Party’s exclusively for BB attendee’s only.
Friday, we’ll enhance your kink with educational workshops presented by BB finest presenters. Later that evening, we’re asking all attendee’s to wear their favorite BB T-Shirt from previous years to the Welcome Back dinner banquet. During dinner you will see this years award winners to include the recipient of the prestigious Vi Johnson award and Master Obsidian will address the audience with his Keynote address. Later, we’ll cruise on down the highway in our motor coach to the Crucible where the kinky cultures wail and flail wares of artistry in the dungeon.
Saturday, we’ll pick up where we left off, revisiting our educational workshops and attendee’s can enjoy our fabulous vendor mart. Later, we’re off again to yet another exciting night of kink at The Crucible.
Sunday we’ll conclude with a farewell breakfast. It’s time to bid your friends and family safe travel. Get your hugs and kisses after breakfast, it’s then time to depart to our resident destinations.
You won’t want to miss this years conference, registration is now open!
So with that in mind, Black BEAT would like to say to all of our family:
WELCOME BACK, WELCOME BACK, WELCOME BACK!!!
MV
Holy crap! I stumbled upon Coco De Mer while looking at last season’s fashion forte: the leather harness. I love the harness look because it incorporates just enough of the leather/bondage look into your wardrobe that you can wear them with/over/under pretty much any outfit to add a touch of alternative to your look.
But good LORD, Coco De Mer makes kink couture lingerie and bondage gear that’s so hot your eyeballs will sizzle. They sell everything from designer sex toys, to couture leather lingerie, to corsets, even wall paper.
More NSFW images after the jump…
I don’t buy jewelry. I leave that thrill to my guests, who love to lavish their favorite fetish on me.
Take Hiram, for instance. He arrived one day with the most elegant strand of pearls I have ever seen. He requested that I put them on while wearing my highest, reddest heels, white gloves past my elbows and . . . well, that was it—pearl choker, red stilettos, and long satin gloves.
He had me undress him, too, very very slowly. I felt him shiver every time my satin fingers brushed his flesh. When the last shred of clothing was removed from his body, I turned my back to him. With quivering fingers, Hiram carefully undid the clasp on the pearls and removed them from my neck. Just as carefully, Hiram redid the clasp. He held the pearls high above his head, opened his mouth wide and slowly lowered the strand into his mouth. I smiled at Hiram, ran my gloved fingertips over his face, then kissed him. While we kissed, that naughty boy Hiram used his tongue to feed the strand, two pearls at a time, into my mouth. Once the last pearls had been transferred from him to me, I bent at the waist and delicately deposited the necklace from my mouth onto Hiram’s patient little soldier, standing straight and still at attention.
Hiram left happy.
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Then there was Gorden. He arrived with a treasure chest. He had me tie him down onto my massage table, naked, and one piece at a time, I pulled baubles and gems from the treasure chest and laid them on Gorden’s body.
There were treasures of every kind in the chest—shiny metal pieces that almost sang as they clinked together; bright plastic marvels that belonged on movie goddesses from the 30’s and 40’s; and shimmering crystals that reflected magic onto everything else.
I arranged and rearranged the pieces like art, with Gorden’s body as my canvas. Once I was satisfied with the perfection of the arrangement, I picked each piece up and put it on myself—six bracelets each on my wrists, necklaces of every length around my neck, rings as big as ornaments on all my fingers, and spectacular dangling earrings for my lobes.
Gorden was ecstatic.
Did I tell you about the Master?
No he is not my Master. I am a Maitresse, I have no Master, but I do share a dungeon with one. I met him some time ago on a BDSM website, he was moving up from the South and offered me the use of his dungeon. We shared the costs of equipping and furnishing and we share the costs of running it as well. Sometimes we share our slaves.
I remember well the first time I saw him action. The woman was a marketing executive; married and in her thirties. She came to him one midweek afternoon, a Tuesday I think. Well dressed in a business suit of jacket and skirt; she looked like any professional business woman. A bit like I do. I was sat in the Master’s chair in the dungeon when he brought her in. She was surprised to see someone else there and objected to my presence but he told her bluntly that I stayed and he reminded her who she was. “You’re just a fucking slut,” he told her. “You’re my slut and you do what I say or you are out.”
His language and tone shocked me a little but it taught me how to handle people like her. She stayed.
He made her strip. As she did so he kept hurrying her along. He had a riding crop in his hand and he kept tapping her across the bottom and thighs to hurry her up. He also kept swearing at her; telling her what a filthy slut she was and how he was going to beat her. With her clothes in a heap by her side, he kicked them across the room and swore at her again. I have to admit that he scared me but as he explained later, he had got to know her quite well and got to know what she could and couldn’t take from him. She particularly enjoyed being sexual dominated and he enjoyed giving it.
As she stood there he walked around her feeling her body parts, it was almost as if he was examining her like a piece of merchandise. He ran his hand over her shaved pussy and asked her when she last shaved. She told him that morning but he called her a liar and told her she was bristly. She told him again that she had shaved that morning and he swore at her and made her touch herself to feel for herself the bristles and then he made her walk over to me so that I could feel too.
I could tell from the way in which she flinched that she had not been touched in that way by another woman. It was a little bristly, no more than you would expect really from a morning shave, but I agreed with the Master. “It is very bristly.” I told her.
He called her a lazy whore and made her bend over the small bench. The blow from the crop across her bottom even made me jump and squirm. She screamed out but he still hit her again. She was in obvious pain as he pulled her up and then pushed her down onto her knees. It was obviously part of their routine as she started to unbuckle his leather trousers. I must admit that I found it a real turn on watching as she released his cock and started to suck him.
He made her take it right down her throat. He was impressively large and she gagged and gagged; all the time he kept reminding her what a cock-sucking whore she was. After a while he made her break from that and suck his balls; making her take them deep in her mouth. That too made her gag. Then he made her rim him. He leant over the bench and she kneeled behind him and used her tongue on him. That was also a turn on for me; I had never seen anything like it in real life before, and it really got me going.
My next treat and hers too of course was anal sex. He fastened her down to the bench; her bottom exposed and vulnerable. I thought he was going to take her pussy from behind but no, he took a tube of gel and lubricated her anus before entering her. I was sat sideways from them so I could see not just the sex but also their facial expressions. As I mentioned, he is quite large and I could see from her facial expression that he was stretching her but he didn’t care. He just kept banging away at her. He also cropped her; with his crop in his right hand he hit her thigh a few times, almost like a jockey hitting his horse. It made her squeal but all he did was call her names. The best treat for me though was when he suddenly pulled out of her and moved around to the front. He held his erection in front of her head and masturbated himself for a few moments. I watched his spray of cum shoot all over her face and in her hair. He even wiped his cock afterwards with her hair. I was very tempted to unfasten my jeans and masturbate at that stage.
After he had untied her he made her lie down on the floor just a few feet away from me and he handed her a vibrator. He called her a whore again and told her to make herself cum in front of us. He took a flogger from the wall and perched himself on the arm of the chair I was sitting in and we watched as the vibrator whirred away as she thrust it in and out of her pussy. I could tell that it was off-putting for her to do it in front us this way but he was quite merciless, every now and again he would get up and give her a few hard strokes of the flogger across her body. She eventually came; her hips writhing on the floor and her legs moving uncontrollably as she moaned loudly, told me that it was not a fake orgasm.
And then came the anti-climax; it was almost as if nothing that had happened had actually taken place. They both smiled at each other and she crawled over to him and kissed his feet before getting up and putting her arms around him. “Thank you Master.” She said to him. “I really needed that.” She added before leaving the room.
Ten minutes later she came back after having obviously showered and put her clothes back on. She gave me a sort of good-bye nod and gave him another kiss and a verbal good-bye and left. A satisfied woman; a satisfied Master and a very satisfied student!
Interested?
You know where I am!
