Anal Discipline – completed

I’ve worn this awful plug and harness for two days – just over actually. It’s been 50 hours.  It’s locked into place, so each time I need to have a BM Mister requires that I kneel, beg for permission, then suck his cock until he comes in my mouth. Once I’ve finglassesished, the plug is washed, covered with ginger paste, reinserted, and locked into place. Today I went to work with this locked harness, a constant reminder of Mister’s power over me, power which I willingly gave him. I hate this, but love him for it. Yes, this is a harsh punishment, but not undeserved. How do I feel? Well, I’m certainly humiliated and humbled. I understand that my behavior also humiliated Mister.

I am regretful, honestly regretful of that behavior. I have been uncomfortable for the last 50 hours, reminding me of just how uncomfortable it is for Mister when I ignore his orders or lie to him. I tell him all of this as I kneel before him. He has not required me to kneel, but I do anyway. It just seems fitting. He asks if I feel that the punishment was unfair and I answer that it was not. He asks if I feel the punishment was enough and I answer that it is for him to decide. He leans down, kisses me, and tells me that my answer pleases him. He will remove the harness and plug and my punishment is complete. However, he warns, it has become apparent to him that I need more discipline and since spanking brings me excitement and anal brings me humility, he has decided to combine the two. He tumblr_olokk7rqDv1ucdihlo1_1280helps me to stand, undresses me, and unlocks the harness. He pulls the inflatable plug from me and I’m shocked that I feel somewhat bereft, empty. I will now, he tells me, go to the bed, kneel with my ass in the air and my head on the mattress. I rush to obey. He makes me wait there, in position, for a good half hour. Finally, he comes to me, kneels behind me, and presses his slick cock against my anus. He goes slowly, but relentlessly. Despite being plug for so long, his cock feels enormous and I squirm. He slaps my ass sharply, scolding me, telling me to stay still and stay silent. He continues to slap my bottom as he moves in and out of my ass. I moan and he slaps harder, reminds me of his order to stay silent. I can speak, he tells me, only after he has come. He fucks and spanks me for a long, long time. I want to lose myself but if I do I’ll moan again or scream his name. I feel the tide rising and I come, biting into the sheet to keep from screaming. He’s pleased, encourages me, tells me how good I am, and then I feel the hot splash of his seed shooting into my bowels. He lies beside me, holds me in his arms, and I begin to babble. I can’t believe it. I’ve never enjoyed anything anal, nor can I say I “enjoyed” this, but I’m thanking him. Thanking him for his love, for his discipline, for his strength. He kisses me and tells me that each day I will either be plugged for a minimum of an hour, fucked in my ass while being spanking, or both. This will go on until he’s sure that I have learned to trust him, to be honest with him, and to abide by the rules that we both agreed to. Then, he asks what he always does. He asks if I agree to this. I think about my behavior of last week and then I think of the 50 hours I was locked and plugged. My bottom is tingling from the spanking and my anus feels tender and well used. “Yes, Mister, yes. I hate this, but I love that you are making me do it. I love submitting to you, and I need you to push my limits. Thank you.”

 

Anal Discipline

(At the request of a reader – hope you enjoy the story.)

Okay, so I’d been bad. Like, really bad. I was way, way over budget, mouthy, the house hadn’t been cleaned in 2 weeks, and I lied about going to visit a friend at her home when in fact we halusciousnet_naked_over_the_knee_spa_351042160d been clubbing. Mister was well within his rights to punish me. First, he had me strip and assume the position over his lap. He used his hand to spank me until I was sobbing a bit, kicking a bit, and my bottom was good and red. I was also quite wet! Did I learn? No. I mouthed off again telling him that disciplining my bottom always made me excited. This was not the proper state of mind for someone who had so badly misbehaved. He obviously needed a much more stern punishment. He took me into the bathroom and I watched as he filled the sink basin with water. He then took out his pocket knife and cut a thick stick of glycerin soap, dropped the stick into the warm water, and positioned me with my hands on the rim of the tub, feet spread wide apart. A few moments later he slid the softened soap stick into my bum. My eyes flew open and I felt the burn immediately. Glycerin soap melts fairly quickly and has a quick effect on the bowels as well. He asked me if I was still excited or if I was beginning to understand that my actions had distasteful consequences. I started to move to the “throne”, but he stopped me. I would have to beg and show true respect first. I was sobbing in earnest now and quickly did as he ordered. This went on for a while and I was terrified I was going to humiliate myself horribly, but he relented and allowed me to eliminate. He did, however, stand there with his arms crossed, staring at me the whole time. I truly was humiliated. How can this get worse, I thought. Mister unzipped his jeans, pulled out his cock, and told me that I was going to suck him off, swallowing every drop before he would allow me to clean myself up. I opened my mouth to protest, giving him the opportunity to shove his cock deep into my mouth. I gagged, but sucked. His cock in my mouth always soothes my nerves and soon I was calm, almost forgetting my humiliating position. He came quickly, smiled down at me, and told me I could clean myself. I was them to meet him in the kitchen. I lInflating Anal Probe eft the bathroom far more humble than I’d entered it. What I saw on the kitchen counter, though, made me tremble. An inflatable butt plug . Holy Shit! Plus a tube of pre-ground ginger, plus a harness! Now I cried in earnest!! I begged and begged him not to use that, but he ignored my pleas, smiled at me, then calmly ordered me to bend over, my hands flat on the floor, legs spread. He inserted the ginger covered plug. The burn was immediate and harsh, but I knew it would last only about 20 minutes. Nonetheless, my tears were making quite a puddle on the floor. He helped me to stand upright and strapped the harness on me, locking it in place. I would have to, he sweetly informed me, suck him off each and every time I needed to release my bowels. As he said this, he used the pump to inflate the plug. This, I assure you, got my attention. The bulb hung down between my legs to about mid-thigh. Now that he was sure I understood my predicament, he then told me to go put on a long skirt and top. We were going out. I was to put on make-up and smile. No one, absolutely no one was to know that I was in any distress or discomfort. We were meeting friends for dinner. I lod5ad8adc841afd538c63ef1d07684d64oked at him with horror, but nodded. He was my Dominant, my Mister. If he were a weaker man, a less stern disciplinarian, I wouldn’t respect him as much. Dinner, let me just say, was a trial. Mister sat next to me and every now and then would take hold of the bulb, inflate the plug inside of me, then smile. I’d have to sit there, eating, drinking, or chatting as if everything were perfectly normal. Then, he’d release the air for a while only to reinflate it after a few minutes of relief. Then, the soap stick reappeared (figuratively) and I really needed to use the facilities. I looked at Mister and said that I needed to go powder my nose. He smiled and said I looked fine. It could wait until we got home. The plug reinflated – it was HUGE!! I gasped and our firends looked at me oddly. Crap! Shortly after that Mister made our excuses and we left. Tears were running down my face I was so uncomfortable. As soon as we got home, I stripped off my clothes and knelt before Mister who obligingly removed his trousers. I went to work, feeling that wonderful sense of calmness, and soon he was releasing down my throat. He unlocked my harness, deflated the plug, and allowed me to eliminate. When I finished, he had the plug lubed up with the ginger again. I begged him not to put me through that again, but he kissed me and quietly told me that this was the penalty for a week’s work of bad behavior. I was again plugged and harnessed. I asked how long this was going to go on. Mister asked me how long had I been misbehaving. I groaned. About 2 weeks. One day for each week, he decided. I’d be locked into the harness and plug for 2 days, having to beg and earn the right to eliminate, and then suffer through the burning effects of the ginger afterwards. Oh. My. God. I had to go to work the next day! My eyes widened when I realized that I’d be plugged while I was at work! He smiled at me, knowing I’d comprehended my plight, kissed me gently, and told me that he was sure that my behavior would improve. Mister is a strict, but brilliant and creative disciplinarian.

I’ve been mooned!!!

So today was the elcipse, right? So, one is not supposed to look at the sun with tImage result for eclipsehe naked eye, right? Milord had a clever idea. If we can’t look at the some with the naked eye, then we – or at least I – should be naked while viewing it (behind protective glasses, of course!) Moreover, since it is the moon which causes the eclipse, I should also moon. Personally, I thought this redundant since I would already be naked! The I saw the gleamhard-domestic-discipline-1140x641 in Milord’s eye. My “moon” he said, would be what would be used and viewed – the entire day. Gotta admit, I was still confused. Naked. Naturally my ass would be exposed. The day began with me “on the floor in position”. Milord then said, not only would my “moon” be exposed all freakin’ day long, but that it would shine. Okay. Now I understood. And giggled a bit. As  I’ve said before, Milord is creative.  He began by telling me that the last total eclipse in the U.S. was on July 11, 1991. (7+1+1+1+9+9+1 = 29) Twenty nine swats with his hand – to each cheek. Every hour I would be in this position, he told me, and receive the number of swats equal to the date of each eclipse during the 20th centure. February 26, 1979; March 7, 1970; October 2, 1959; June 30, 1954; July 9, 1945; August 31, 1932; January 24, 1925; September 10, 1923; June 9, 1918.  He would use his hand while we were inside, but outside, he would use a switch freshly cut from a handy bush or tree. I knew then that I would have a difficult time sitting for a few days, but couldn’t stop the rush of wetness coating my thighs. He saw this and laughed. “Don’t fret. Just after we view the elcipse and your moon is shined up for today’s date, I’ll make love to you until you collapse from the exhaustion your orgasms will cause. You’ll scream my name, curse me, bless me. I promise this. You’ll never forget the elcipse of 2017.in the woods

Tied in Knots

It has been a stressful week. I won’t bore anyone with the details. My Lion, though, took steps to relieve my tension. He knows that the fastest way for me to relax is to submit – totally and fully – to Him. And so, When he saw the state of mind I was in when I got home Friday night he pulled me into his arms, kissed me, then whispered his order into my ear. Showered, shaved, naked, and collared. Ten minutes.  I felt tDG9x1FSUQAAHcgRension melting from my pores. Twelve minutes later I stood before him – showered, shaved, naked, collared – with soft, cotton ropes being tied harnass like around my body. I would, he said, wear not only his collar, but his bindings and very likely his markings all weekend long. He would release me not tonight, not tomorrow, not Sunday, but only Monday morning. Until then, I was his. I would obey.  I would serve. He would fuck me, dress me, use me, make me come, eat me, feed me as he pleased. His voice floated about me like a cloud of lavendar – enticing, compelling, relaxing. He wrapped his love around me as he spoke and as he created the harness that I would wear until He chose to untie it. He looped the rope over my hips, making sure that my slit would be easily accessible. The binding was tight, but not uncomfortable. In truth, I love when he harntumblr_otxcdv42JM1w4ltjno1_400ess me. It is a constant reminder that I am his (and he is mine).  He finished and I sat on the bed. I licked my lips and looked up, my hand on his zipper. He shook his head, though, denying me this pleasure. Instead, he pushed me back onto the bed, knelt, and lifted my legs over his shoulders. I’m going to make you cum until you beg me to stop. Then, my lioness, I’m going to ignore you and keep going. My tongue, my fingers, perhaps my fist will be inside of your secret holes. My teeth will nip your clit your lips. You. Are. Mine. And so he did. Minutes, hours later, my hands buried in his dark hair, I begged him to stop, to give me a break, to let me suck him, to fuck me. He ignored me. sure I could have used my safe word, but I didn’t. One orgasm washed over the one before it until my body quivered uncontrollably. I stopped begging, stopped thinking, stopped moving with intent. I surrendered. He knew this and chuckled, his lips on my clit. I have no idea how he did it, but somehow he unzipped his jeans and pulled off his shirt. He was on top of me, in me, my legs still over his shoulders, his cock buried inside of me. That’s it. Come. Come all over my cock. Give me what I demand. And so I did. I came, screaming out his name. He pulled out, readjusted himself, pressed my legs wide apart, then plunged his entire length into my ass. I cried out again – not in pain because there was none. My Lion keeps my ass nicely stretched so that I can accommodate him at any time. No, I cried out in gratitude. “Yes!! Please!” He pressed down on my thighs, spreading me wide. I reached up, ran my hands down his hard chest, his impossibly tight abs. Where? Where do you want it? “Wherever you want to give it.” I tipped my head back, arched my back, and felt him roar his release. Inside of me. He let go inside of me and I gasped with the joy of it. He relaxed, fell  to the bed beside me, and pulled me to his chest, cradling me. He kissed my head and I sighed against him, satiated and relaxed.

Now, as I sit at my desk, I still feel his ropes binding me even though he untied them this morning. I feel his cum, wishing gravity was not so certain, as my silk panties absorb his essense. I wiggle a bit, my nether regions tender and sore for being ravaged for the past two days and three nights. I had to wear a lightly padded bra to hide the indecency of my swollen nipples. When my assistant came in with an arm full of files, he noted my relaxed shoulders, my smile, the glow about my face, and said it was obvious that I’d had a good weekend. “You have no idea,” I told him, grinning as only a well satisfied lover can.

Getting Ready – an Open Letter to Gentlemen

Gentlemen,

It is an honDG9v1smXYAAon6hor to be seen with you, to be with you. Know that we prepare for this honor sometimes for hours. We shower, shave, slather lotion on, dry our hair, curl or straighten it, arrange it in an

up do, braid it. We perfume our bodies. We pluck or wax our legs, eyebrows, pubs. We endure the pain and discomfort of this eagerly, willingly. We put on make-up, change our minds, wash it off, re-apply. We choose our lingerie then change it because it doesn’t suit the outer clothes we wear. Both the lingerie and outer clothing are chosen with you in mind, not comfort. Trust me, no one wears a corset or high heels because of comfort. We strap on the pretty sandles, slip into the ma

DFp36GHXoAAOcm1

tching pumps. We make sure to apply deodorant – usually twice – because just the thought of you makes us hot enough to sweat. The idea that your eyes might smolder with desire, that you might compliment us causes slight heart palipatations. But the image, the memory, the hope of your touch – your hand, your lips, your skin – is enough to, pardon the old fashioned expression, make us practically swoon.

I ask that you know we do this not because you expect it of us, but because we expect it of ourselves. To be less than our best, to be less than as close to perfect as we can be, is simply unacceptable. Why? Because you, our men, our loves, our dominants, our husbands, our lovers, you deserve only the best and so we strive to make ourselves better. If we do this in error, if you would prefer jeans, a t-shirt, flip flops, natural skin , please let us know in a kindly manner. Point out to us our successes rather than our failures. Tell us the color of our lipstick is lovely, but not as lovely as our skin. (Rather than telling us to wipe that crap off of our faces.) Tell us the outfit looks made special for us and you can’t wait to rip it off our bodies. (Rather than asking why we’re still wearing a bra.) Tell us the shoes are dazzling and that you look forward to rubbing any soreness from the cramped muscles. (Rather than telling us we will break our necks.)

We, your ladies, your wives, your lovers, your submissives, we prepare our bodies, our minds, our souls with the prime intention of pleasing you.

Be gentle with us.

Next Up?

Dear readers,

First, THANK YOU for reading! If you like what I write, please let me know by hitting the “like” button or leaving a comment. If you would like to read longer works, don’t forget that I have several novels and anthologies in both electronic and print formats. Now, though, I have a favor to ask. Help me write about topic you want to read. Comment below with a topic that interests you – fiction or non-fiction. I can be as simple as “More Spanking” to as complicated as a whole character background.

I want you all to know how much I appreciate you all!! Thank you.

If I came with a Warning Label

Easily broken

but sometimes, I want that.

I’m stronger than people think,

like hammered Damascus,

with each blow I willingly take

I grow more beautiful, stronger.

But hammer at the wrong time

the wrong place

the wrong force

and I will shatter.

#bravewarninglabelchallenge

DGi8zEAXkAAYcXr