The thing with finally talking to someone you've shut out of your life for awhile is that all that angst, all the rage, all the worry and sadness have an outlet. They get channeled to the person on the other end of the conversation and suddenly two people who were raging at each other, who were nose to nose figuratively speaking, are suddenly tired. Exhausted. And curious.
So Satan and I had conversations. He letting out his vitriol in emails, me letting the pounding surf of his anger crash against me until he was just done. And then, in my quiet way, I raged back until I couldn't rage anymore. Slowly, so slowly....those conversations stopped being about us hating, and started being about us just talking. We'd have careful talks about our lives, friends, family, and how we were. Careful talks that never said anything meaningful, and never talked about sex. Boring talks. Talks about how he was going to leave Maine and move to Boston.
One day out and about in Portland, I decided I couldn't let him leave the state without having the courage to say goodbye. I had to pee like the dickens, and though I could have stopped anywhere, I called him and asked if I could use his bathroom. He said yes, that he was packing, and that I was welcome. I went, and seeing him in person was like a physical blow to the gut. So beautiful, and so untouchable now. We sat in his room as he folded and packed his pants, and sneakers. And we talked about things I can't even remember now. I stayed a bit, but had to get home for my daughter. I let him know I had to scoot, and he walked me down to the door. I remember turning back and trying to say...something, but failing to find the words. He let me off the hook then, and just moved in, held my face in both his hands, and kissed me softly. My eyes watered, and fat tears slid down my cheeks knowing he was leaving, and I bolted.
Seeing him, smelling him on every level that a mate scents her male was vicious. My beast, which had been roaring already, went ballistic. It was a physical pain inside me screaming for release. Like a shape shifter that can't actually change to let her beast out, so mine was clawing against my innards. I hosted a party and played with a boatload of men, each one merely ramping up my need to release another notch, and nothing coming even CLOSE to the level of release that I needed. Every orgasm I gave myself just made me more frustrated. Nothing, it seemed, could calm the beast.
Jachin and I, during this time, had resumed sexual relations. His growing concern for my inability to feed my beast led him to volunteer his services in attempting to fill the role. Scared he wouldn't last, he took a pill, or two. He fucked me until he came like a rutting beast, and then continued to try and fuck me with his hand. But his heart, literally, couldn't take it and we had to stop and attend to him. Realizing that The Beast was going to kill someone should I not adequately attend to her, I kept trying. A few days later, after being teased by my pet endlessly that morning, I laid in my bed and tried to masturbate. Jachin came by and sat in the bed with me trying to help. I came, hard, but I could feel the tight coil inside knowing it hadn't been satisfied at all....it had merely gone up another notch. Jachin tried to help me rub another one out, and I busted out crying, begging him not to touch me because it just got worse and worse. Jachin, worried for real now, did the only thing he could think of. He called Satan.
Keep in mind that since things ended badly between Satan and Jachin with the roommate situation, Jachin absolutely HATES Satan. He has said that if he saw Satan on the side of the road riding his bike while he was driving, that he would swerve just enough to pick him off. Yet he was moved enough by his concern for me to call the one person he thought could solve the problem, regardless of the fact that it made him want to puke acid through the phone. They made arrangements to bring Satan up to Maine that weekend, mid-May.
My pet drove down to pick up Satan. He left around 11 in the morning, and I saw them drive in around 8:30 that night. I was so pissed at the time warp it took to get from Massachusetts to Maine that I slammed my bedroom door in Satan's face. He was in high spirits though, and wouldn't be deterred. I felt as skittish as a colt, not knowing where to look, heart beating in palpitations, mouth open to breathe because I felt breathless. He had that look in his eye, that his prey was target marked and locked. He came to me and enveloped me in his massive hug, his lips descending to mine, not letting my nervousness make me bolt, or turn me into a shrew. He took my hand and led me upstairs, to the spare bedroom we'd be using for the night.
He laid me on the bedroll on the floor, opened my thighs and settled his mouth on my quim. And I could breathe again because my mate was home. He licked my cream, lapped at me like I was nectar and sweet syrup. And he made these satisfied beast noises, grunts, and sighs, and small growls. His hands roamed my body, clutching my thighs in a death grip, then gripping my tummy, holding my breasts. He loves my rolls, loves to hold and squeeze them, sink his fingertips into my fluffiness. He pushed me over my first small orgasm, and the coil unraveled, not to let me off the hook, but to perform as my master expects...with frenzy and abandon.
He climbed back up my body like the predator he is, lifted my legs up and back, and pressed his cock into my hole. Slow, steady pressure moving all that dick inside me. It was tight, it was beautiful, and my pussy contracted all around him. He didn't stop pressing inward until the head of his cock had bumped my cervix. Then he withdrew and slammed it home. Again. Again. Again.....over and over until he triggered my spot, made the rain squirt out of my body. It was so intense, that it overwhelmed me emotionally and all the rage I had carefully tucked away from him erupted. I pummeled his chest repeatedly, screaming my hate out, releasing my anger and disappointment and hurling it at his body, which never missed a beat in fucking me to another orgasm. Tired of being punched and hit, he grabbed my fists and lifted them over my head kissing my lips and sucking my neck while he continued that shattering rhythm.
Flipping me over to my knees, he opened up my ass for his pleasure. He still had a hold of my hands, holding my wrists behind me while he fucked my ass and made me cum like a ban-sidhe. I was filthy from his handiwork, and he had no qualms, and no mercy. He demanded my submission, demanded I answer his age old question...."Who do you belong to?" "NOBODY YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE, I BELONG TO NO ONE. I AM ALONE" He grabbed my hair then, hauling my ear up to his mouth "You are NOT alone, and you will ALWAYS belong to ME. I will NEVER, EVER, let you go again." He sank his teeth into the meat of my back, and roared out his release. We both collapsed for a moment, he rolled me onto my back, and ate me some more. By the whimper in my voice and the cadence of my noises, he knew I hadn't given him my big orgasm. His hand crept between my thighs, and two fingers went into my pussy, stroking in there and hitting the trigger point. He was sweating like a madman, and fucking my pussy with his whole hand. It bloomed then, like a white hot poker radiating in circles from my core to the tips of my fingers, and even after I fell limp, he pushed me towards the abyss again. And just that quickly, I climbed to another peak, higher, more devastating, that destroyed me on every level. I hated him, I loved him, I needed him. And I thought briefly, could I just use him for sex?
Tucked into his body, held safe in his arms, I slept the sleep of the dead for the first time in many many months. No bad memories, no regrets, no sadness, no emptiness, no.....beast. At last and by the mercy of god, Lilith was sated, and quiet.
Showing posts with label D/s. Show all posts
Showing posts with label D/s. Show all posts
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Summer Beach Fun
It's encouraging to know that our little group is growing and becoming more and more exciting each party. This last party, held at Old Orchard Beach was different in that it attracted all couples, which was new for us as the previous two were more about singles. Every group owner hopes for couples, which make the group stable. Couples aren't fly by night, and if you make a good impression on them, they become the core of your group, ensuring it becomes successful. We had a fantastic time getting to know these couples, and also playing with them, and look forward to doing it again. We did make some decisions this round. The first decision being to go forward and only include "preferred" single men. Both Malcolm and I are tired of single guys confirming they will attend, then not showing up. We both have single male friends that we definitely want to include in the mix, hence the Preferred status. We will be accepting our friends, or people that come referred to us by couples we trust. Enough is enough. Next, we decided to take a break during July because most people are vacationing with their families, for one, and for two, the motel rates are insane due to the tourist industry. We'd have to charge 40.00 per person to even begin to think about doing that, and really...who the hell is gonna pay that in this economy? Malcolm and my schedule during July is a bit crazy anyways, and we did want to keep one weekend open to play privately with a couple we are very interested in, and who invited us to celebrate with them. YUM!
Malcolm and I had a little hard spot last week, after I wrote the last blog about my boy toy. It was his first real experience reading something I'd written that wasn't exclusively about him. He took it hard, much harder than I'd anticipated, and caused us just a bit of conflict in that it had hurt his feelings. Knowing I'd hurt him hurt me tenfold....I never want to hurt the man I love more than anything. He means everything to me. He did tell me, after he saw how stricken I was, that he was sorry he'd made a big deal of it, and that he didn't want me to change how I write. I offered to change it, I offered to take it down. But he insisted it remain in it's entirety and it's original form because that was me, and that was how I write. He let me know that in time he'd probably get into it more, but for now, he thinks he'd just prefer me to tell him my adventures verbally and with alot less intensity. I love him, so so so much.
That being said, I did understand that there would be a reckoning. Anyone in the D/s lifestyle can attest that a sub does not push her Dom's buttons without the Dom taking matters in hand and asserting his, well, dominance. I was a little unnerved, and was worried HOW that discipline would be delivered. I knew we'd not have any private time before the party, and knew that meant going into a party with unresolved issues. I suppose I'm a bad sub, but I'm terrified of public shame and humiliation. To be disciplined in public could just be the end for me, I swear. Yes, a little melodramatic, but nonetheless....
Malcolm assured me, as well, that any discipline he administers wouldn't be given out of anger. So our compromise was that I'd wear my collar at the party. I threw a bone in there and included the leash. I'm not a fan of my collar. It's tight, it's stiff, it restricts my range of motion, it chafes, and sometimes it feels like it chokes me. I knelt for Malcolm and offered him my collar. He took it and I bowed my head, held my hair and waited as he fastened it on me. The collar has this 3 or 4 pound grappling hook thingy on it which makes it incredibly gaumy, but once the whole contraption was together, I saw how he looked at me, and I knew in that moment that really, by my submission I hold him in my hand every bit as much as he holds me.
Malcolm and I had a little hard spot last week, after I wrote the last blog about my boy toy. It was his first real experience reading something I'd written that wasn't exclusively about him. He took it hard, much harder than I'd anticipated, and caused us just a bit of conflict in that it had hurt his feelings. Knowing I'd hurt him hurt me tenfold....I never want to hurt the man I love more than anything. He means everything to me. He did tell me, after he saw how stricken I was, that he was sorry he'd made a big deal of it, and that he didn't want me to change how I write. I offered to change it, I offered to take it down. But he insisted it remain in it's entirety and it's original form because that was me, and that was how I write. He let me know that in time he'd probably get into it more, but for now, he thinks he'd just prefer me to tell him my adventures verbally and with alot less intensity. I love him, so so so much.
That being said, I did understand that there would be a reckoning. Anyone in the D/s lifestyle can attest that a sub does not push her Dom's buttons without the Dom taking matters in hand and asserting his, well, dominance. I was a little unnerved, and was worried HOW that discipline would be delivered. I knew we'd not have any private time before the party, and knew that meant going into a party with unresolved issues. I suppose I'm a bad sub, but I'm terrified of public shame and humiliation. To be disciplined in public could just be the end for me, I swear. Yes, a little melodramatic, but nonetheless....
Malcolm assured me, as well, that any discipline he administers wouldn't be given out of anger. So our compromise was that I'd wear my collar at the party. I threw a bone in there and included the leash. I'm not a fan of my collar. It's tight, it's stiff, it restricts my range of motion, it chafes, and sometimes it feels like it chokes me. I knelt for Malcolm and offered him my collar. He took it and I bowed my head, held my hair and waited as he fastened it on me. The collar has this 3 or 4 pound grappling hook thingy on it which makes it incredibly gaumy, but once the whole contraption was together, I saw how he looked at me, and I knew in that moment that really, by my submission I hold him in my hand every bit as much as he holds me.
It was amazing. Malcolm was very loving all night, in front of the other couples. He'd come over to me, kiss me deeply, then whisper stuff in my ear like "You know what's coming later, right? I'm going to flail on you". Then he'd smile, move on, and be Mr Congeniality again. LOL, it was so disconcerting to hear about the pending violence of our coming together in the midst of such lighthearted fun. It was so erotic.
We bid the last of our couples goodnight at around 3 am. As he locked the door and turned out the lights, his countenance darkened, and he said "yeah, it's time." He pushed me down on the bed and ate me for the first time that night. Malcolm is a master at this, no words can honestly describe how it feels to have his tongue swirl over your clit, how he manages to suck it into his mouth and rub it in time to your own pulse. How he gets two fingers inside you and rubs the back while he sucks and licks the front. He makes me so damn wet, and he revels in running his tongue through my cream, sucking it down, making me cum for him.
He pressed his fat cock into me, lifting me so that he could get himself all the way in, all the way to the bottom. I love feeling his cock hit back, like I have a sheath custom made to fit him in just the right way. He looked at me while he speared me "That's MY pussy, isn't it?" "yes daddy, it's all yours"..."You're MY bitch aren't you?" , "yes daddy, I belong to you forever"... over and over and over until the single most thought in my mind was MY master, MY Dom, MY man, and I'd do whatever he asked, whenever he wanted because I am his slut, his whore. I completely belong to him. I have his absolute love, protection, and devotion in return for my unconditional love, servitude, and compliance.
As an interesting aside to the whole weekend, my sister finagled her way into the whole pic and was in town that night to help care for my daughter. It was her first time meeting Malcolm and she did her sisterly inquisition. It put Malcolm in a situation to have to declare his intentions, and bless his heart, he didn't balk. He passed her tests with flying colors, and let her know he's in it for the long haul, so not to worry. He made it clear that he loves me immensely, and managed to charm the General herself into thinking he's the greatest guy I've ever dated. No joke tho, he just really is.
Till next time!
Lilith & Malcolm
We bid the last of our couples goodnight at around 3 am. As he locked the door and turned out the lights, his countenance darkened, and he said "yeah, it's time." He pushed me down on the bed and ate me for the first time that night. Malcolm is a master at this, no words can honestly describe how it feels to have his tongue swirl over your clit, how he manages to suck it into his mouth and rub it in time to your own pulse. How he gets two fingers inside you and rubs the back while he sucks and licks the front. He makes me so damn wet, and he revels in running his tongue through my cream, sucking it down, making me cum for him.
He pressed his fat cock into me, lifting me so that he could get himself all the way in, all the way to the bottom. I love feeling his cock hit back, like I have a sheath custom made to fit him in just the right way. He looked at me while he speared me "That's MY pussy, isn't it?" "yes daddy, it's all yours"..."You're MY bitch aren't you?" , "yes daddy, I belong to you forever"... over and over and over until the single most thought in my mind was MY master, MY Dom, MY man, and I'd do whatever he asked, whenever he wanted because I am his slut, his whore. I completely belong to him. I have his absolute love, protection, and devotion in return for my unconditional love, servitude, and compliance.
As an interesting aside to the whole weekend, my sister finagled her way into the whole pic and was in town that night to help care for my daughter. It was her first time meeting Malcolm and she did her sisterly inquisition. It put Malcolm in a situation to have to declare his intentions, and bless his heart, he didn't balk. He passed her tests with flying colors, and let her know he's in it for the long haul, so not to worry. He made it clear that he loves me immensely, and managed to charm the General herself into thinking he's the greatest guy I've ever dated. No joke tho, he just really is.
Till next time!
Lilith & Malcolm
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
The Boytoy, pt 2
I honestly have never been in a relationship before where my guy will allow me the freedom to be by myself with another man. It still baffles my mind, and as I told him this morning, makes me wonder if there will be a shoe dropping soon....
That night after the party ended, and everyone except Ian had left was amazing. I love being with Ian, being kissed by him, and feeling his hands smooth my skin everywhere. I crave his touch, need to feel him all over me. He has the softest hair I've ever felt, and I can't get enough of running my fingers thru it, and playing with his curls. He's just simply beautiful. What I really love about Ian, though, is the fact that nothing is taboo with him. I can toss his salad and play with his prostate while I suck his cock deep into my throat. I can suck and bite his nipples and make him groan in pleasure. No part of his body is unavailable to me. I can have it all. I LOVE THAT!!!! I love that I can bring him to a mind blowing climax with my mouth. But what is the most unique thing about Ian? He specializes in making women squirt. Alot.
Yep, Ian can make ANY woman squirt buckets of cum. No joke!! He uses his tongue, and his lips, and his teeth...and then he uses his hand. Jesus GOD, that hand. The night after the party, I was incredibly sore from the pounding Malcolm had given me, so Ian was not able to fist me. But he was able to squeeze 3 fingers in and find the "trigger". And he would rub and rub, and there would be this sensation of painful intensity....of an overwhelming fullness and pressure, and then, just when it would feel like I couldn't take it another second, I'd bear down, and a flood would issue forth. It's not always orgasmic when it happens, but it is such a feeling of unmitigated relief that it's better than orgasmic. Then, when he pushed me past my limit, even as i cried and begged, and told him I couldn't do it again...and he barked YES YOU CAN!.....he pushed me up the peak one more time, and everything in the world flew apart in a million blinding pieces as I came and came and squirted all my fluids on him. I came so hard that my pussy contracted around his fingers and he couldn't pull out. All I could think of was that he'd knotted me, just like a dog, and we were hung up. After about half a bottle of lube, and making me push down to ease him out, we were free, and laughing. A few hours of sleep, and he was right back at it when we woke up again. Everything was so wet....
So, I found that the week after the party, I wanted his hand. I wanted him so bad my pussy would clench every time I'd think of him. If he'd have lived locally, I'd probably have found a way to do him again. It was this clawing need bordering on addiction. I called Malcolm and expressed my need and my concern, even so far as to tell him that maybe I wasn't cut out playing alone. I knew in my heart that I didn't love Malcolm any less, but my GOD, I just NEEDED.....
Ian and I continued to chat via IM, and he felt the same way. He'd had a great time with me and wanted to repeat the experience. I let him know that under no circumstances could I ever do anything without Malcolm's prior knowledge and consent...I will not cheat on him, and I will not hurt the one man that has shown me more love and freedom than I've ever know. Malcolm knew that I was feeling some mental and emotional turmoil over the situation, and he came to take care of it last Wednesday.
Wednesday I knelt to Malcolm again, reaffirming my place in his life as his treasured and loved sub, reaffirming my willingness to accept his will. I was reminded of my role, I was disciplined. Above all I was loved and cherished. Malcolm can be a stern and daunting master when he chooses. I'd not seen that side of him before, and it startled me a bit. But it also induced a healthy dose of respect and admiration for this man that understands me on such a cellular level. He inspires me to trust him bit by bit when he proves his ability to master me. It's hard to express exactly what I mean in this situation...ya kind of have to be there....
Malcolm called me on Thursday to let me know that Ian had contacted him and wanted to come and spend the weekend with me, even knowing that Malcolm would be out of town. Ian was asking permission to have another personal moment with me independent from Malcolm. Malcolm also arranged for it to happen, and laid down his terms to Ian, and let me know that he approved, and wanted me to enjoy myself. I was stunned, really, to know that he'd go the mile to set something like this up for me. It went beyond being an activity he approved of, it became HIS PLEASURE for me to do this. More evidence of Malcolm's unending trust and love of me. I'm really the luckiest woman on earth.
Ian did indeed spend the weekend with me. He was fantastic with my daughter, they did the grilling together, and laughed and joked. He gave me another unbelievable night of unbridled pleasure. I came so hard, for real, that I screamed (into a pillow muffled tight over my mouth) like I was dying, and actually burst most of the capillaries in my forehead, under my eyes, and on my cheeks and chin. LOL, we did laugh about that. I told him he blew the top of my head off, and he proudly affirmed "YES I DID!" LOL, he is so damn cute.
I have incredibly tender feelings for Ian, for he belongs to me now whether he wants it or no. I always take care of what is mine, too. My promise to Ian is to respect and cherish our times together, to nourish him in spirit and friendship, and to have him know that we have his back.
My Ian....to many more nights for all of us baby!
That night after the party ended, and everyone except Ian had left was amazing. I love being with Ian, being kissed by him, and feeling his hands smooth my skin everywhere. I crave his touch, need to feel him all over me. He has the softest hair I've ever felt, and I can't get enough of running my fingers thru it, and playing with his curls. He's just simply beautiful. What I really love about Ian, though, is the fact that nothing is taboo with him. I can toss his salad and play with his prostate while I suck his cock deep into my throat. I can suck and bite his nipples and make him groan in pleasure. No part of his body is unavailable to me. I can have it all. I LOVE THAT!!!! I love that I can bring him to a mind blowing climax with my mouth. But what is the most unique thing about Ian? He specializes in making women squirt. Alot.
Yep, Ian can make ANY woman squirt buckets of cum. No joke!! He uses his tongue, and his lips, and his teeth...and then he uses his hand. Jesus GOD, that hand. The night after the party, I was incredibly sore from the pounding Malcolm had given me, so Ian was not able to fist me. But he was able to squeeze 3 fingers in and find the "trigger". And he would rub and rub, and there would be this sensation of painful intensity....of an overwhelming fullness and pressure, and then, just when it would feel like I couldn't take it another second, I'd bear down, and a flood would issue forth. It's not always orgasmic when it happens, but it is such a feeling of unmitigated relief that it's better than orgasmic. Then, when he pushed me past my limit, even as i cried and begged, and told him I couldn't do it again...and he barked YES YOU CAN!.....he pushed me up the peak one more time, and everything in the world flew apart in a million blinding pieces as I came and came and squirted all my fluids on him. I came so hard that my pussy contracted around his fingers and he couldn't pull out. All I could think of was that he'd knotted me, just like a dog, and we were hung up. After about half a bottle of lube, and making me push down to ease him out, we were free, and laughing. A few hours of sleep, and he was right back at it when we woke up again. Everything was so wet....
So, I found that the week after the party, I wanted his hand. I wanted him so bad my pussy would clench every time I'd think of him. If he'd have lived locally, I'd probably have found a way to do him again. It was this clawing need bordering on addiction. I called Malcolm and expressed my need and my concern, even so far as to tell him that maybe I wasn't cut out playing alone. I knew in my heart that I didn't love Malcolm any less, but my GOD, I just NEEDED.....
Ian and I continued to chat via IM, and he felt the same way. He'd had a great time with me and wanted to repeat the experience. I let him know that under no circumstances could I ever do anything without Malcolm's prior knowledge and consent...I will not cheat on him, and I will not hurt the one man that has shown me more love and freedom than I've ever know. Malcolm knew that I was feeling some mental and emotional turmoil over the situation, and he came to take care of it last Wednesday.
Wednesday I knelt to Malcolm again, reaffirming my place in his life as his treasured and loved sub, reaffirming my willingness to accept his will. I was reminded of my role, I was disciplined. Above all I was loved and cherished. Malcolm can be a stern and daunting master when he chooses. I'd not seen that side of him before, and it startled me a bit. But it also induced a healthy dose of respect and admiration for this man that understands me on such a cellular level. He inspires me to trust him bit by bit when he proves his ability to master me. It's hard to express exactly what I mean in this situation...ya kind of have to be there....
Malcolm called me on Thursday to let me know that Ian had contacted him and wanted to come and spend the weekend with me, even knowing that Malcolm would be out of town. Ian was asking permission to have another personal moment with me independent from Malcolm. Malcolm also arranged for it to happen, and laid down his terms to Ian, and let me know that he approved, and wanted me to enjoy myself. I was stunned, really, to know that he'd go the mile to set something like this up for me. It went beyond being an activity he approved of, it became HIS PLEASURE for me to do this. More evidence of Malcolm's unending trust and love of me. I'm really the luckiest woman on earth.
Ian did indeed spend the weekend with me. He was fantastic with my daughter, they did the grilling together, and laughed and joked. He gave me another unbelievable night of unbridled pleasure. I came so hard, for real, that I screamed (into a pillow muffled tight over my mouth) like I was dying, and actually burst most of the capillaries in my forehead, under my eyes, and on my cheeks and chin. LOL, we did laugh about that. I told him he blew the top of my head off, and he proudly affirmed "YES I DID!" LOL, he is so damn cute.
I have incredibly tender feelings for Ian, for he belongs to me now whether he wants it or no. I always take care of what is mine, too. My promise to Ian is to respect and cherish our times together, to nourish him in spirit and friendship, and to have him know that we have his back.
My Ian....to many more nights for all of us baby!
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
A Little Bit About our D/s Relationship....
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