Pictures and stories from of a real life 24.7 D/s couple. Richard and Amy explore bdsm, daily life, and each other, from both sides of the relationship.

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November 27, 2007

More Body Modification

Filed under: D/s, Sexy Pictures, Amy Pictures — Richard @ 9:48 pm

More body modification, or if you like, de-modification.  Is that a word? It is now.

We tried Amy with the acrylic nails for a while, but they weren’t working out to our mutual satisfaction.  While they looked good, they made her feel just a touch out of sync with her fingers, plus they hurt, in general.

Well, I don’t like my baby girl feeling pain.


Unintentional pain, that is.  I don’t see the point in that.  So we had the acrylics taken off, and Amy is back to her regular nails.  Also very beautiful, just in a different way - perhaps minus the decadent feeling of sensual indulgence acrylics lend to a woman, but having a definite natural beauty.  I like both kinds of beauty.

Natural nails suits Amy best.

And, Amy is no longer smooth between her thighs.  After some discussion, in which Amy proudly told me she had been admired in the past for the look of her pubic hair, we decided to give that a try.  Amy has been keeping smooth underneath, but letting her hair grow back.  I am planning to clip it short for a photo shoot, but for now I am enjoying it as it is.

Amy nude

Very lovely.  Amy misses being smooth, and keeps asking for permission to return to that, which will be granted, but only after I get the picture I want from this.  Although the one above is also nice.

November 18, 2007

BDSM or abuse?

Filed under: D/s, BDSM, Daily Life — Amy @ 8:02 am


A lot has been written making the distinction between BDSM and abuse, but a couple of recent posts I’ve seen whilst blog-hopping have made me want to add my two cents.

I’ll begin with the proviso that I don’t think there is any way to know for sure whether or not a relationship is abusive just from reading someone’s blog posts. Maybe they are leaving out crucial details, maybe they are exaggerating or under-reporting to make a better story (even unconsciously). One of the best things about blogs in which both partners write (like ours) is that you get a real sense of how two people can see the same situation quite differently. I’m still often surprised by Richard’s very different take on something we have done together.

Vanilla people have occasionally wandered onto our blog and been alarmed by a post in which I talk about Richard controlling me or hurting me. I think there are two main reasons that I can say with assurance that I am not being abused.

1. Consent. I have given my consent for Richard to make all decisions in our relationship. I can take away this consent at any time. Of course, that could well be a relationship-ending decision, just as making the decision to have multiple sexual partners or a same-sex partner could be a marriage-ending decision (although it needn’t be).

Richard does what he wants to me, whenever and wherever he wants. But it’s not rape and it’s not coercion because I have given a global consent, if you will, to whatever he chooses. BDSM folks refer to this as “consensual non-consent”.

The reason that I am able to comfortably give this consent to Richard, to give total power to him (Total Power Exchange = TPE, another BDSM term) is because I trust him absolutely. I trust him not to harm me, and I trust him to care for me, better even than I would care for myself. This brings me to the second reason I am sure that I am not being abused.

2. Self-esteem. I feel good about myself, I like myself, I feel sexier than I have felt in my whole life, and healthier and happier. Some of our play involves Richard humiliating or degrading me (”You are such a dirty little slut. What kind of girl gets fucked in the ass and then begs to cum? What kind of girl gets wet from being face-fucked? I have never met such a little whore in my entire life.”) After that kind of play, I feel very submissive and clingy (in a hot, sexy way) for a while, but I don’t feel bad about myself.

I have been in some less-than-healthy relationships in my past, all vanilla. I honestly think it was because I was *looking* for a D/s relationship, but didn’t know it - didn’t even know what it was. So I was attracted to older men, bigger men, domineering men, controlling men, because the submissive in me was searching for a Dominant. But they are not the same thing (although unfortunately they can be packaged together). Those relationships bordered on abusive, my relationship with Richard does not.

So how do you know whether it’s BDSM or it’s abuse? I personally think it’s pretty straightforward. Ask yourself two questions.

1. Do I feel coerced or abused? You should not. If it’s D/s, you should feel that you are in the hands of someone who is calling the shots because you gave *consent* for them to call the shots. Sure, sometimes things happen you don’t like - you get spanked or pinched or told to do something you reallyreally don’t want to do. But you should always be able to discuss it. When Richard was talking about doing orgasm control, I had a very strong knee-jerk reaction based upon a looong history of being with men who couldn’t care less whether or not I got to cum. We talked about it and he decided it that it wasn’t a good idea for me at that time. On the flip side, he will occasionally slap me and I find it just.plain.hot. even though I have seen posts where people have argued that all slapping is abuse. If you’re not allowed to talk about it, if you’re told “suck it up” and dismissed, if you feel unheard, coerced, abused…then you probably are.

2. Do I feel good about myself? You should. Being able to be myself sexually has freed me in a way I could not have imagined. Since I have been in a 24/7 D/s relationship, I am more creative, more productive at work, more loving to friends and family, more content, less judgmental, I bake better bread (OK, maybe not the last, but I was starting to nauseate myself so I needed to make a joke). If you feel worthless or unattractive or stupid or weak, particularly after spending time with your partner…then that is not a good partner for you.

All relationships require work, so I’m not saying that if you have concerns about your relationship that you should immediately bail on it. But you should certainly be talking very seriously to your partner if you feel any of these things.

P.S. I am a big fan of “bibliotherapy”, and a great book for deciding whether or not you should be in a relationship is “Too Good to Leave, Too Bad to Stay” by Mira Kirshenbaum. It helped me get out of a really awful relationship. It is eye-opening - I highly recommend it. Here’s the link to her blog & info about the book:

November 17, 2007

Flashing her Breasts

Filed under: D/s, Sexy Pictures, Kinky Sex, Amy Pictures — Richard @ 11:26 am


Ah yes.

The part Amy mentioned about the hard fucking in her previous post.

I had forgotten about that. But I had the essential part of the story right, and the hard fucking and kinky sex is really just kind of a peripheral goodness, not that big a deal.


So I have trouble remembering which bouts of wild sex happened on which day. It’s all a blur to me, one long happy fuckfest, but Amy can keep it sorted out. And as long as she can get it straight, good enough.

Which leads us to todays picture. I’d like to report that Amy has become a hardcore exhibitionist, seeking to flash her breasts at every opportunity. But no, she’s still shy, and and only flashes on command, or when I pull her top up. And not in public. Actually, she’s started flashing me in surprising moments.

And she’ll flash for the camera, if I tell her too.

This is one of those moments.

I like it.

What’d ya think?

Amy flashing her breasts

This is a morning shot, in the pale light after sunrise. I’ll let Amy tell you if we had been fucking wildly in any kind of kinky fashion, because clearly I won’t be able to remember it.

November 16, 2007

Punishment spanking

Filed under: D/s, BDSM, Hot sex, Kinky Sex, Daily Life — Amy @ 7:35 am


This is what happens when we don’t post regularly. Last night Richard realized he had a bit of time and decided to write a post.

“Have we done anything? What happened the last time we had sex? I can’t remember.”

“Well, yesterday you were playing with my ass, then you finger-fucked me in my ass and pussy while you teased my nipples. My own squirming woke me up. Then you…”

“Oh yeah. I forgot about that. That was fun.”

“And the day before you gave me my first punishment spanking, and then…”

“Riiiiight. Yeah, that was really hot. OK, I know what I want to write about.”

So he wrote the post (below), except he forgot a bunch of stuff. So I thought I’d give MY spin on it.

First of all, the reason I asked for a spanking (a LITTLE spanking) was because I have been getting sassier and sassier over the last couple of weeks, as my work stress levels have ramped up. Richard has been more forgiving than usual because he understands why it’s happening. But that means I haven’t been getting any negative consequences for increasingly saucy behavior.

We were talking about this while snuggled up in bed and I, feeling guilty for being mouthy and rude, suggested that maybe a LITTLE spanking would help me re-focus. At first he said “Maybe later” but then he perked up (not a good sign) and sat up on the side of the bed.

“Come over here. I’m going to give you an over-the-knee spanking.”

I hesitated. He seemed awfully keen.

“Maybe now’s not a good time. Maybe in the morning would be better?”

“NOW. Get over here. Don’t make me wait.”

So I crawled trepidatiously over to him and laid across his knees, with my toes resting on the floor and my face and arms on the bed.


I squealed. Usually Richard warms up my ass by some gentle spanking before he hits harder. This was really hard, right off the bat.


I squealed again. This one was even harder. Then he started raining down swats on my poor little ass.

I managed to gasp “This isn’t a LITTLE spanking.”

And he replied “No, it’s a punishment spanking. You have been too mouthy lately and I don’t want it to happen anymore. Maybe this will help you remember.”

Every.single.smack. hurt like the dickens. It was not stingy or thuddy, it was just plain hurty. After a while I started crying. I’ve never cried when Richard spanked me, because he’s never spanked me hard like this. Part of me was hoping that my crying would make him want to be gentler.

Doh. When will I “get it” about sadists? He didn’t slow down, he didn’t spank me softer. I suddenly noticed that his cock against my belly had become very hard. He stopped about a minute after I began crying and pulled me up and gave me a big hug and wiped my tears. But before my crying had slowed to sniffling and hiccups he pushed me down onto my back.

“Now I’m going to fuck you.”

I moaned out a “please” or “no” or something, but he just kneed my legs apart and shoved into me. I was shocked by how wet I was. My ass was still hot and sore, but that just made the contrast of the sweet, wet fucking even better.

THEN, after he’d fucked me and cum in me and made me orgasm, THEN we cuddled and touched. He forgot to mention that part.

But he was right that I needed that. I haven’t felt much need to be sassy since then. Or when I do, I keep it to myself.

Afterwards, when we were snuggling, he said “Now are you going to remember who owns you?” and I nuzzled into him, into his big chest and strong arms, and said “Yes Daddy, I’ll remember.”

October 25, 2007

Princess or Pervert?

Filed under: D/s, Hot sex, Kinky Sex, Daily Life — Amy @ 8:21 pm


It has been a while since anything Richard has chosen to do to me has shaken me. Some of you will remember that earlier in our relationship, I would regularly experience a crisis of confidence after Richard had ramped things up - by making me sleep at the foot of the bed, or talking about forcing me to have a threesome, or denying me an orgasm.

After each of these things happened for the first time, I would spend a few days processing them. “How can I be a slave, property, a toy, and be loved, too?” was a recurring theme that I would ponder.

I was still learning to accept that I am sexually submissive. The vanilla part of me couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that I was happier and more in love than I have ever been…with a man who is a sadist. A man who wants to control me and hurt me. A man who gets hard when I cry out in pain as he bites me or twists my nipple. Didn’t that make me a pervert?

Richard’s take on this: “So we’re perverts. So what?”

When we visited Megan and her Master a few weeks ago, I experienced a different sort of crisis of confidence when I saw how much more Megan’s Master demanded of her. It made me wonder if I were a pampered princess.

I don’t “top from the bottom”. Richard gets what Richard wants, and he gets it when he wants it. It is not always what I want. But he is a very nurturing and sensitive Master. He is more protective of me than I am. I am not allowed to open my own doors, I can’t open soda cans now that I have acrylic fingernails (and when I did it on my own, boy was I sorry!), he watches that I get enough sleep and don’t work too hard. He monitors how often I orgasm! If I haven’t had an orgasm in a couple of days, he makes it a priority before we go to sleep at night, more of a priority than him having an orgasm.

Doesn’t that sound like more of a princess than a slave?

Megan, as usual, has been wonderfully supportive about this. She could tell that I was feeling insecure and worried about it all, and she took pains to point out the differences in our needs and our dynamics: she is more experienced, she is a pain slut, she is an exhibitionist and loves humiliation play.

Richard simply said that, as he always has, he will continue to demand what he wants from me or simply take it. For him, it’s about control. Giving me pleasure or giving me pain are equivalent, if they lead to him having more control over me. (Not sure I said that right, but I think that’s the gist of it.)

So. Last night. Richard has spent the last three days photographing the southern California fires. He comes home at night dirty, exhausted and aggressive. He has a shower, I feed him dinner and make him a Jack Daniels. Then a second.

We go to bed early, snuggle up and I begin to nod off. But Richard hasn’t been able to settle, and he begins to play with my breasts. Instant squirminess for me. Then he grabs me by the hair and shoves my face down onto his cock. I begin sucking him and playing with his balls. Oh, he tastes so good. Finally I can’t take it anymore and I crawl up his body and slide onto his cock.

…It’s as if I unleashed a beast…

He growls and grabs my hips and starts fucking deep into me. (OK, when I used to fuck “Female Superior” in my vanilla days, I felt very in charge. How can the same position feel so very different with him?)

Then he starts talking about what a slut I am, how he’s never been with anyone even half as slutty as I am, how I need to fuck all the time and he loves it, and how he needs to share me with other men because I need to fuck so much. And he starts handling my breasts as he says all this, and tells me that when he plays with my breasts I turn into such a slut that I would fuck anyone or do anything he said.

Which maybe is true, because I completely lose control when he is playing with my breasts. I can’t see straight, I can’t stop my hips from grinding against him, I can’t stop from moaning and begging.

After he fucks me for a while, I reallyreally need a drink of water. The dry, smoky air here right now isn’t helping. I ask if I can get a drink.

“You want a drink? Right now? Wow, that’s a bit of a mood killer, isn’t it, little girl?”

“Please Daddy. I really need a drink.”

He’s silent for a minute. I wait, perched on top of him.

“Fine. Go get some water. But you have to crawl to the bathroom to get it.”

My mind whirls. He’s never made me crawl before. How humiliating. Maybe I don’t need water so much. I hesitate.

“You’re going to go get the water. Do it now.”

I climb off of him and slowly crawl into the bathroom. He watches me the whole way.

As I fill the water bottle, I realize that he didn’t tell me to crawl BACK. For a moment, I play with the idea of walking back. But then I think that maybe that wouldn’t be a good idea. So I crawl back, holding onto the bottle with one hand.

He grabs me by the hair and pulls me back into the bed, where he fucks me for hours, taunting me with how wet I am and making me cum so hard that every touch of his sends jolts through me for over an hour afterward.

Today I don’t feel like a princess. Today I’m back to thinking that I am a big-time pervert. But I’m a very turned-on pervert. This will take some processing.

October 17, 2007

Sterner Stuff

Filed under: D/s, BDSM, Sexy Pictures, Daily Life, Amy Pictures — Richard @ 10:43 pm

Amy’s Ass in White Panties

Amy’s ass, no doubt in need of a good sound over the knee spanking.


Amy tells me I’m changing, that I’m becoming sterner and stricter with her. I’m not really aware of this, until she points things out to me that she has observed. So much of this I just do, and then once it is done it’s out of mind, and then of course forgotten.


A couple of days ago, in a parking lot, Amy got a little sassy. She dodges away from me, hiding her ass and giggling, so I can’t spank her. I tell her to put both hands on a car, which she immediately does. Good girl. I give her a quick swat - the spanking isn’t the point here, it’s making her obey and take her discipline.

Interestingly, I don’t feel any basic difference, but I do feel more interested in taking Amy in hand. I don’t feel like I’m becoming more dominant, I feel more interested in keeping Amy aware of my ownership and control.

It has become quite natural to take away certain decisions from Amy that I wouldn’t have dreamed of taking a few months ago, but that is the way our relationship is evolving. I don’t think I would have noticed it, except that Amy points it out.

For example, I will make her sleep at the foot of the bed without giving it much thought, whereas a few months ago it felt unusual, and even edgy. And yet it is now, that I’m more used to it, that it feels very sexy and satisfying to do it. I smack her ass pretty much all day long, any time it is within reach, just to enjoy the feel of it, which wouldn’t have occurred to me a few months ago.

A natural evolution, it seems, and one that has gone almost unnoticed by me, but not, apparently, by Amy.

October 6, 2007

Not so much a BSDM club, more a public sex club

Filed under: D/s, Hot sex, Kinky Sex, Daily Life, Road Trips — Amy @ 6:05 pm


We went to PowerExchange in San Francisco last Saturday night, the day before the Folsom Street Fair.

We’d spent the day cruising around San Francisco in a convertible which OMIGOD is the way to sightsee! I can’t believe how much more of the city I saw than I ever have before.

PowerExchange doesn’t open until 10 pm and around 8, after a great Italian dinner, I wasn’t sure how I was going to stay awake until then. Even an espresso doppio, drunk in an outdoor cafe while people-watching, didn’t help.

But I survived. We got there at 10:30, after me changing from jeans and a sweater into a mini-dress and heels in the back of the car (not a BIG car).

We went in, and first went through the main floor, which was pretty standard - a shop in which you could buy kinky clothes and floggers, etc, a “bar” without any alcohol, music playing, etc. Very few people were there yet.

We went down into the basement and there was a lot more going on. It was set up as series of rooms off of a main room, with several kinds of spanking benches, a St. Andrew’s cross, etc. There were a few people playing, but a lot more people wandering around looking. This was typical in the LA clubs we’ve been to, as well. The difference here is that the people wandering around were mainly men, mainly naked men. Mainly naked men who were masturbating, many of whom seemed intent upon rubbing up against me or any other nearby woman. I understood at that point why they had set up the third floor, where we went next.

Only couples and single women are allowed on the third floor. It costs more to go there too. Oh, and the couples have to stay together, I guess so that a guy doesn’t ask a woman to come with him so he can get up there and prowl around.

When we first went up almost noone was there. We looked in each of the side rooms, one was a kind of medieval theme with a couple of throne-type chairs and a big table. Another room had a giant bed. Another had a spanking bench and a couch and a smaller (queen size, I think) bed. Another had a pole for pole dancing! The big central room had lots of couchs and beds around the outside. Oh, and the bathroom was for men AND women! That was a little odd, I thought.

We sat on a couch for a bit and snuggled. Richard had been very quiet for most of the day, and I was feeling a little worried about it. It wasn’t just that he was quiet, he seemed more…distant than usual, more disconnected from me. We don’t usually spend two full days without any alone time (except when we went to bed at night) and I think it was affecting both of us.

In my vanilla days, I would have wanted to talk about it: how are you feeling? are you angry? are you upset about anything? But here we were at a BDSM club, and here I was with my Master and Owner. So instead I said “I really love spanking benches. Would you spank me please, Daddy?”

“You want a spanking, little girl? You know there are people around. You want them to see me spank you?”

No, I did not. I did not want to be spanked in front of anyone. But I wanted to feel connected with him again, and I hoped that would do it. So I said “Yes please.”

So he took me by the hand and walked me to the spanking bench and got me settled on it. I let my hair fall over my face so I wouldn’t see if anyone came in.

Richard pulled my dress up over my ass and pulled my panties down and rubbed my ass and my legs until I wiggled. Then he started to spank me.

It was such a wonderful combination, feeling very comfortable on the padded bench and feeling the stinging of the spanking.

Occasionally he would stop and rub my ass again and nuzzle my ear and I would hear people moving through the room.

After a while, he pulled up my panties and pulled down my dress and helped me stand up from the bench. I felt very quiet and shy and submissive - I think this is what people refer to as “sub space” (had to think for a minute; the first thing that came to mind was “sub torpor” - uh, no).

He brought me over to the couch and we sat and talked quietly and he petted me. Another couple came in and lay down on the bed. After kissing and making out for a few minutes, he pulled off her panties and went down on her. She started moaning “Oh yeah, oh that’s good, oh do it to me Daddy.”

I was a little surprised that they were totally going for it right in front of us, but it was interesting. After a while, they got up and wandered out into the main room. We got up a few minutes later and did the same; I think we would have fallen asleep if we had stayed there.

The main room had picked up while we were inside. There were several couples in various stages of foreplay or out-and-out fucking in the beds along the edge of the room. Other couples were walking around the room and would stop and watch at different beds.

One guy was getting a blowjob from a girl, and he was very interested in seeing who was watching them. He kept looking over his shoulder to see who was there, and finally turned her around so he could see better. We noticed that he lost his erection whenever people weren’t looking. Now THAT’S an exhibitionist.

People all around us were fucking and that’s when I realized: I am TOTALLY not vanilla anymore. The vanilla sex was boring to me. I kept wanting one of them to swat his partner on the ass, or grab her by the neck, or SOMETHING for god’s sake. To make it interesting. Because just watching them fuck, while it was clearly doing it for the couples that were wandering from bed to bed watching, was not doing anything for me. Richard said he felt the same way.

We got up and wandered around the club again, to see what was going on on the other floors and in the other rooms. What was going on was lots of sex, but almost exclusively vanilla sex.

In one room, there were two couples having sex. One guy was fucking a woman from behind, while another woman played with her breasts. The first woman reached over and started playing with the second woman’s pussy. The second woman’s partner was fondling her breasts and kissing her and mainly watching what was happening.

Richard walked me back to our couch, holding onto my wrist as we went. We sat down and just watched all the sex happening around us. He was quietly rubbing my shoulder and dragging a finger along my neck and the side of my face. He rubbed the back of my neck, then wound his fingers through my hair. Suddenly he tightened his hold on my hair and pulled my head back until my neck was straining.

I looked up at him, startled. His eyes looked eery in the blacklight, like a demon or a vampire. He stared down at me as he traced my lips and my chin and then down to my chest and along my bra. He leaned over, not releasing his hold, and nibbled along my jaw and to my lips. He bit down on my lip and I reflexively pulled away.

Not a good idea. He pulled back harder on my hair, so hard that I had to strain to stay upright. He bit my lip again, harder. I closed my eyes and tried to relax, realizing that he was in no mood for me to fight him. Something had made him aggressive, I didn’t know what, and I was going to have to ride it out.

He continued to hold my head back with his hand in my hair, releasing it at one point only to change his hold. He slowly, gently dragged the tips of his fingers along my face and neck, dipping occasionally into the neckline of my low-cut dress.

My heart started to race, thinking of all the people watching everything that was happening in the room. I didn’t want them to see my breasts. But Richard didn’t care. His fingers would move away from my breasts and I would start to relax. Then his grip would tighten in my hair and his teeth would find the side of my neck or my cheek and I would clench. He would nuzzle me for a bit and loosen his hold and I would relax again. And then he would pull my hair back even farther, so that the whole expanse of my neck and chest were exposed, and push aside my bra with his fingers and pinch and tease my nipples. It was such an incredible juxtaposition of sensations: the brief, sharp pain of being bitten, the dull ache of having my head held back, the exquisite feeling of my breasts being tugged and pinched that made a direct connection to my throbbing, soaking wet cunt. And over it all, the feeling of being completed owned and dominated.

It went on for an eternity. I felt incredibly awkward and shy, yet at the same time more excited and aroused than I think I have ever been. The next day, when we were talking about it and began to fuck, I came harder and longer than I can ever remember. Does that make me an exhibitionist?

Now I’m going to go make dinner for the family - homemade chicken enchiladas. It’s getting cooler here, so I can use the oven again. I’m going to be baking bread this weekend too. It was wonderful going away on such an adventure, but it’s also really nice to be home again.


October 3, 2007

Folsom Street Fair

Filed under: D/s, Sexy Pictures, Hot sex, Road Trips — Richard @ 11:39 am


Folsom street fair

These are a few of our shots from the Folsom street fair. Here, you see a dancer in a cage suspended from a crane which swung him out over the crowd.


You can see how energetic he was - lots of fun watching him dance. A woman had a turn in the cage before him, but I didn’t get there soon enough to get a shot of her, as I paused on the way to get a shot of this guy:


A great full body rubber outfit, although must have been rough when he ventured out into the full sunlight


These three guys were obliging enough to strike a pose for me. The whole event is full of people thrilled to be seen and have their pictures taken, so it’s a lot of fun - and no matter how outrageously dressed someone was, they always seemed to have their own camera to take their own pictures.


Another playful trio posing for the camera. Lots of nudity at the event as well, largely male. My favorite was a guy walking around naked except for a pair of Uggs.


Furries, plushies, and even pony girls like the one below:


A lot going on, and lots more to talk about - this was a remarkable weekend for us in many ways, and there will be a lot of discussion of what went on.

San Francisco, the Folsom Street Fair & My Big Mouth

Filed under: D/s, BDSM, Hot sex, Kinky Sex, Road Trips — Amy @ 12:24 am


We are back from San Francisco and the Folsom Street Fair.

I am so sore that I’m having trouble walking and I’m absolutely exhausted.

What a great trip!

First of all, seeing Megan was incredible. She is the second person that I have met after becoming friends on-line (Richard being the first) and she is exactly the person that she seemed to be on-line. Only more 3D, of course. I am batting a thousand - I met both my husband and my best friend on-line. Talk about lucky.

We spent the first day with her and her Master, not doing much of anything, mainly recovering from the looooong drive up (mainly long because we drove a large part of the journey on the Pacific Coast Highway and Richard wanted to stop every five miles to take pictures of seascapes and seals and rocks and…).

It was eye-opening to watch another D/s couple interact. He is much, much stricter than Richard. She was in chains when we got there, and she never sat on the furniture (so I didn’t either, to keep her company) and when she left the room she would walk backwards out of it, so as not to turn her back on him.

I was very bad and teased her about things that I knew she didn’t like. This back-fired occasionally, unfortunately. She brought out this GIANT buttplug that he’d just bought and I said “How could you even fit that in your MOUTH, much less your ass?”

She looked at me with big eyes and said “I can’t believe you just said that.”

Her Master said “Yes, Megan, let’s see if you can fit that in your mouth.”

Which she could.

And then she said “Now let’s see if you could fit it in YOUR mouth, Miss Amy.”

And Richard said “Yes, let’s see.”

It kinda freaked me out to be putting someone else’s buttplug in my mouth (understatement) and I tried three or four times but couldn’t get it all in without gagging horribly.

But there is no way something that size could fit in my ass. No way. I don’t know how people do that.

After a couple of interactions like that, Richard pointed out that I probably should try filtering a bit more when I’m around other D/s couples. Which I tried to do, with mixed success.

On our last day, when we were at the Folsom Street Fair (will post later about this, and Richard has some awesome photos), Richard was off photographing people and Megan, her Master and I were walking along. Actually, he was leading, holding onto Megan’s hand, and I was trailing along with my fingers hooked into the belt of Megan’s schoolgirl skirt.

I saw a tattoo and piercing tent and said “Look Megan! We can get clit piercings!”

Her Master turned around and said “That’s a great idea. Have you and Richard talked about that?”

Megan said “Way to go Amy!”

Hooboy. I was scared. I said “Weeeellll. We’ve talked about it a little bit.”

He said “Maybe we could get a deal if we got two done at the same time.”

I said “Weeeellll. I dunno.”

He said “Why am I talking to you about this? I need to talk to the boss.” And he headed off to find Richard, with us in tow.

Richard came striding toward us, grinning, with his camera in his hand. He was so happy that day. I don’t think he stopped for even one second. It was really, really hard to keep track of him and stay with Megan and her Master. I got scolded by him a couple of times for being bossy, when I tried to get him to move along when they were waiting for us.

Richard said “Not today” to my relief. Later he told me that he did not think that piercings or tattoos were appropriate for me at all. Whew.

We walked over to the tent and Megan’s Master talked to the piercing people and they took her into a back tent and pierced her clit while he took photos.

I got really shaken up while we were waiting for them because I felt like it was my fault that Megan was going to be in pain now. Me and my big mouth. I started crying.

Richard reminded me *again* that I needed to be more careful what I said when we were with D/s couples, but said that her clit-piercing wasn’t my fault. They have a different dynamic than we do, and most importantly Megan is a big-time pain slut. She probably wanted this.

She came out from the tent and was a bit shaky, so we went and had Indian food and watched the fair-goers for a while. I kept my sunglasses on even though we were inside because I was afraid I would start crying again. I felt like she wasn’t going to want to be my friend if I kept saying stupid stuff that got her into trouble.

Megan realized I was upset when I tried to answer a question and my voice was wobbly. They were both really sweet to me then, and explained that they had been talking about this for a few weeks, and 30 minutes before she had asked if they were going to do it that day. So I felt like a newbie idjit but also relieved.

We got home yesterday, and today I asked Richard if we could please order a ballgag, which we did. I hope it helps.

Gosh, I have so much to post about - a wild new club, the Folsom Street Fair, a bunch of leather shops, and spending several days with another D/s couple and my sweet Megan! I’ve had several new realizations about myself and about us as a D/s couple that will take some time to write about. More later!

September 25, 2007

Road Trip!

Filed under: D/s, BDSM, Kinky Sex, Road Trips — Amy @ 12:36 am


I am so excited I may just burst.

Work has been unbelievably stressful, but the worst of it will be behind me on Wednesday.

On Thursday, Richard and I are going on a road trip.

We’re going to go to one or two BDSM clubs and an Event.

We’re going to spend a couple of days with another D/s couple. A couple that plays much more intensely than we do, so I’m a little nervous about that. I have this teensy fear of the two Domly Ones getting into a “look what I can make my slave do”. Or “my slave is more slavely than your slave”. Which I would for sure lose, since the other woman is a pain slut and really into anal and an exhibitionist and much more experienced than me in just about anything you can name.

But here’s the best part of the road trip and why I’m so excited I can barely concentrate to finish my work. The slave in the D/s couple we’re staying with is my friend Megan. I wrote about Megan in April. I cut and pasted that post below, since I can’t figure out how to hotlink on our new site yet. Megan is one of the smartest, funniest, sexiest people I’ve ever known and she was my sole support in the early days of me discovering my submissive side. Without her, I wouldn’t have had the courage to meet Richard, which was the best thing that ever happened to me (Richard says “sure you would have; you didn’t have a choice” lol).

Megan was also one of the initial motivators for starting this blog, because she told me that I should write about everything that happened in my new life with Richard so I could remember it better later. Plus she’s a perv, of course, so she wanted to hear details about my crazy new sex life.

Oh, one final thing: I think we’re gonna do a photoshoot together. I’m pushing for Amy the Schoolteacher and Megan the Naughty Schoolgirl, but we’ll have to see how it goes.


April 20, 2007

My Friend the Slave

I’ve talked about how a few short months ago I was pure vanilla. I didn’t know I was sexually submissive, and I didn’t know that people lived the fantasies that I only…well, fantasized about.

I started exploring D/s erotica online last May, and through that managed to stumble onto an online kink community. For the first few weeks I lurked on the boards, reading posts and learning. I still remember the first post I made; I was so nervous that my hands shook as I typed.

One of the first threads I read was a woman responding to a flamer - you know, the kind who writes eg “How could you let a guy hit you? You must be really fucked up if that turns you on!” She was so open, so thoughtful in her response. She talked about how long it took her to acknowledge her sexuality, not just to others but to herself. About how freeing it was to finally do so. She wrote about the complexities and contradictions in a D/s relationship, and the depth of feeling and connection possible within one. I almost cried reading it. It felt so good to know that other people had the same feelings and urges that I did. Maybe I was a freak, but at least I wasn’t the *only* freak out there.

As I became more comfortable posting, I would regularly end up in the same threads with this woman. We developed an ongoing joke - she would tease and torment me, I would cyber-spank her, she would plot to turn me bisexual. Silly.

Now I talk to her every day, and we email several times a day. We live across the country from each other, and we’ve known each other for less than a year, but she is my dearest friend. Megan almost singlehandedly navigated me through my first experiences a) as a member of an online community, b) dealing with the attentions of predatory domly types, and c) coming to terms with my sexual submissiveness.

Here’s the thing. She is the most emotionally intelligent women I know. She has the sharpest, quickest wit. She is tooth achingly sweet to everyone, and ferociously protective of those she loves. She is scary gorgeous - tall, blond, blue eyed, cheekbones that could cut you. She could walk into a room, and walk out five minutes later with anyone in the room, man or woman.

She’s a slave.

I remember one of the first times we were talking on the phone. We were in the midst of a serious conversation when she suddenly interrupted me “Oh! I have to go! Master says it’s time for bed.”

My jaw dropped. This was not fantasy. This was not theoretical. Megan was living it. She was (is) a slave. She has a tattoo on her thigh that says “slave” in kanji.

I chewed on that for a few days. At this point, I still saw myself as a vanilla person who had kinky fantasies. But my beloved friend, my most trusted confidante, was a…slave. What did that mean?

I decided that it meant a couple of things. First, I finally got it that you can be kinky AND be normal. If that makes sense. Megan is reaaaally kinky. She’s also reaaaaally smart and reaaaaally competent and reaaaaally emotionally healthy. That suggested to me that *I* could be kinky, and also smart and competent and emotionally healthy.

Second, it meant that I was in a relationship (albeit a friendly relationship, not a romantic one) with a kinky person, and I was getting a lot out of it. More than in my non-kinky relationships (friendly or romantic). This gave me hope that I could have other relationships with other kinky people that were satisfying and fulfilling.

Megan gave me the courage, both by her example and by her daily support and encouragement, to take a chance with Richard. To be open enough to get to know him, then to meet him, then to move in with him. She didn’t give me blind support and encouragement - she asked me hard questions and challenged me to think through each of my decisions. But that, of course, made her support infinitely more valuable to me.

I could not be here now, so much happier and in love than I ever imagined I could be, without her love and guidance.

My precious friend, my dearest sister slave.

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