Update

So what's new?

He told me that I am not allowed to masturbate and cum without permission. Or even to touch myself. This is my punishment. Or at least it's part of a punishment. There might be more. I'm not sure.

I don't know how long the punishment lasts. Some minimum period of time. Some unstated minimum period of time. But maybe longer. If he wants it longer. If he thinks that I have not responded well to his punishment. And of course he decides.

I am allowed to ask to masturbate during this time. In fact I am encouraged to do so. And I've asked a couple of times. But so far he has said no. But he does like to hear me ask. He likes that idea that he has taken something I really want. And as I get less sexual with no sexuality in my life he likes to wind me up again every so often. Just to make sure I really miss it. Just to make sure the punishment hurts. I think it's about time for him to do that again if he wants me sexual. Cause I am not feeling it right now.

Last night he sent me a message telling me that I could masturbate (and cum too!) during a window of time. That sounds nice of him doesn't it? Except that he was pretty sure I wouldn't even see the message until after the window of time was up. And he knew I had dinner guests so he was pretty sure I wouldn't take advantage of the offer if I got it. So really he was just fucking with me. In his opinion it would have been better if I had actually known the offer was there, and just couldn't bring myself to take advantage of it. But I didn't know it was on the table til it was off again.

*********************

In other news I have done something to mess up my back. I was sitting on the couch at the time on Saturday morning. Not running, or doing yoga or lifting or anything. Just sitting. And it's killing me still.

I think, from my Internet research that it was a muscle spasm in my back, which got worse and worse until Saturday night when I crawled out of bed almost paralyzed by it. I couldn't roll over and was in enormous pain. I spent that night sleeping (sort of) on my bedroom floor.

And I have had cold on it since then which made it better for a while.

I am going to the doctor this afternoon in the hopes that she will give me drugs.

I'm tired of it, and it's making me blue.

*************************

It's Passover and there's too much food, following a period of too much cleaning.

The cleaning always makes me aware of the patriarchal roots of Judaism. As Passover starts the woman has cleaned her house, top to bottom, with a focus on the kitchen. She swaps new dishes and cutlery and pots for old. She scrubs counters and cleans out the oven and the fridge. She throws out all the old food and buys new food, special kosher for passover food. She prepares a holiday meal to special rules.

And then there's a ceremony where the husband and kids go around the house looking for crumbs to see if she has missed any. If she has they sweep them into a bag and burn the bag. Note that they don't help. The just check up on her.

In my house they do help, but they think of it as helping. They think it's my job but they help me.

And the ceremony really is ceremonial, as I hide pieces of bread for them to find and sweep into the bag. Big pieces so they don't look too closely for crumbs. Which they would definitely find. And guess what? I didn't clean out the oven this year. I don't usually. Though I have done so in years gone by.

I don't really mind the cleaning. I rationalize that a really thorough cleaning at least once a year is a good thing. And this puts a deadline on it. So it's just spring cleaning with a little twist. But it bugs my ass that they think they are doing me a favour by "helping".

********************

Wouldn't you think that with all the cleaning and stress and back pain, it would be a nice thing in my life if I was at least allowed to masturbate? Yeah. Me too.

*******************

And of course, I keep dicking with my blog layout. I think it's my only creative outlet these days. Is it making you crazy?

sin

The Task - part 3

Hello Sir, here is my email for the third day of masturbation you assigned.

You told me that this time I should find my story first before I started. Umm, good idea. Thank you.

I found a story of Nilla's that I hadn't read yet. She writes faster that I can read sometimes, and I had not read this particular story before (or at least not this part).

Lots of times the story is just a crutch as you say, but this time, mmm, it was really the story that was hot.

I did use the vibe of course, that was part of your instruction. I had it under the blanket as I sat cross legged on the couch in the living room. My skinny little jeans were unzipped and opened, but the jeans are tight and the zipper is only about an inch and a half long, so I didn't really have much access for the big black vibe you had ordered. But I managed. I wriggled it into my pants, between my panties and my pussy, and pressed it hard against myself, holding it there so it vibrated my clit and the lips of my cunt. I opened my legs a little wider to open myself a little wider onto the vibe as well. God that felt good.

I read the story, and loved it. St. Patrick's Day in a bar was the setting and the idea of walking into a bar wearing nothing but a leash and a blindfold suddenly caught my imagination. How hot would that be?

I pressed the vibe tighter against myself.

The meeting in the story between the Dom and the sub. Arrogant fucker. I liked him.

I felt the vibration all the way back through my lips, almost to my asshole.

The Dom lays her out on a little table, with her ass and her head hanging off each end. She is so vulnerable. I want to be her. I want him stripping my little corset off my tits in public, doing what he wants with me. I'm helpless.

The vibe felt so good.

In the story suddenly there are more people, more hands, it's exciting, all the hands. And again I wish it was me.

I press into the vibe, hoping the story lasts long enough. I am going slow, savouring. I know I can finish, am hot enough to finish even if the story runs out but I don't want it that way.

He pushes his cock into her mouth, she sucks him, and I cum, God it's a good story and a good orgasm.

Thank you Sir. I should thank Nilla too, don't you think? Nilla's story is here if you haven't read it you should. Although I think I've stolen some of the surprise.

The Task - Part 2

Here is part 2 of the masturbation task he gave me. I sent this email to him late last night. He read it today and told me to post it.

This mornings masturbation was done sneaking it in between getting dressed and making lunch. I was home alone except for my youngest, who was glued to the tv in the family room.

I decided to do it then because I knew I would have a busy day and didn't know when I would find another time to do it. I also assumed you would know that was the most likely time, I kind of expected you to come and find me at it.

I had the vibe in the couch. Doesn't everybody have a vibe in the cushions of their couch?

I was mostly dressed, skirt, sweater, pretty camisole. Panties but no tights yet. I pushed the panties aside and put the vibe on my clit as I looked for a story. I had a blanket that I pulled over my lap, just in case

Not a Nilla story this time. I wanted something dirtier, nastier, faster. I went to bdsmlibrary, my fallback for really trashy porn and looked for stories, but didn't find many that I liked today. Or perhaps I should say that I found lots I didn't like.

I played a bit as I looked, flipping up stories only to discover that they were about femdoms or incest or other stories incorporating nasty family interaction that I didn't like. Which really don't do it for me. I continue looking for a story, some nasty humiliating story no doubt, but I didn't find one so I just kept touching as I looked, reading bits here and there, until I got to a point where I decided this particular story also wasn't for me.

I licked the vibe and massaged my clit, then did it again and again, rubbing my clit and lips, massaging gently, playing, trying to grab that elusive feeling of sex, sexuality, desire, trying to make myself want and need and cum.

It went slowly after yesterday. I was just about raw last night, and still a bit sore this morning.

I rubbed and rubbed, being gentle, not wanting it worse, and slowly I began to feel the sex, to rock my hips into the vibe, pressing it against my pussy.

I struggled for it, rocking into it, chasing it.

Until finally I was cumming, short though, and fast, and not really a very hard orgasm. It was pleasant but fairly mild. What made me cum? Nothing in a story, just the touching, the physical. And maybe also the knowledge that you had ordered it and might come and watch it.

As i came I peeked at the webcam to see if you were there watching me. You were not. Which sort of sucked. I wished you had been. Funny huh? Since I never usually want you to find me under normal circumstances when I masturbate.

Thank you sir, for this task.

Yours

The Task - part 1

Today he told me that he wanted me to post my emails to him about the masturbation task for the next three days. Essentially unedited, though I have cleaned up the capitalization and punctuation. Here is my letter to him:


You gave me a task to masturbate Sir, 3 days in a row, Wednesday Thursday Friday with my black vibe. You said that I could use porn. And you wanted a paragraph describing it after each one.

I was kind of waiting for you to come back today, surfing the net, facebooking, looking at work emails. And then I thought of the task and decided to do it. I think I wanted to do it while I still felt good about us, before anything bad could happen, while I still felt soft and sweet and submissive, at least heading towards those things.

I took my pants off and lay down on the bed and got the vibe and slid my tiny thong to one side. I used porn. I used a story of Nilla's that I hadn't read yet, The Farm Part 3, and touched myself with the vibe

And started to realize that the vibe was still out of batteries from today - but I didn't go to get new ones.

I sent you a message saying that I was masturbating. I didn't think you had been back to your computer at all since you left me when my son came home, but I thought I would send you that message anyway. Not so sure why, cause usually I don't want you to know.

And then suddenly you were there. You said you knew I was masturbating, which was a little embarrassing. And you said that I could go get batteries. So I put my pants back on, went downstairs and got batteries, brought them up, changed the batteries, and started again.

I read the story, moved the computer so you could see me, and started masturbating again.

It was hard to make myself cum. It took a long time. Some of that was likely that I had cum earlier today. Some was probably that I wasn't really reading, I ran out of story, I was pretty aware of you there, so not focused on the porn, and yes you weren't doing anything so I was kind of trying to focus on the porn.

I did think about just turning the computer so you were looking right at my cunt, so I could feel like a total slut and maybe get off faster that way. But umm... I didn't. It was just too humiliating. So I spent a while pondering that.

I had been close for a while, then not so close, I was almost too sensitive. I couldn't quite get there. And then finally I did. A big orgasm, that just wiped me out completely. God I was tired instantly.

And ... it was strange having you there. You didn't talk, not really, so I kind of wondered if you were there. I thought maybe you had gone again. And then at the end you were on the phone. I did want you there btw.

Thank you for the task Sir. I thought when you gave it, that you had assigned it because you wanted me more sexual overall and this was a good way to get that. But then you seemed a bit more cryptic, making me wonder if there was another reason, perhaps even a reason associated with the eventual punishment. Obviously you know what it is and you'll do what you want with that. In the meantime, thank you for the task. It did make me take the sexual feeling a bit further, and though I am tired now I feel it a very sensual tiredness.

Tasks

So now here's a first. He's given me a task, to masturbate for 3 days in a row. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday.

I am to use my favourite toys, my crutches as he calls them. They happen to be my favourite black vibe and porn if I want it. I do. Today I used one of Nilla's stories. (Of course I think Nilla writes enough to keep me in masturbation fantasies for years. Maybe forever)

He says he wants me sexual again.

I don't know if it's just cause he does, or in order to punish me, or for some other reason. And at the moment I don't care.

I think it's a good thing (as Martha would say, though maybe not about this). At least it's a good thing for me. For us even. For now at least.

Do you think he will extend it?

Rituals and honorifics

When we are good, he and I, I'm so into Us, with a capital U. Not that I actually write things that way to him, capitalizing all things to do with him and using a small i for myself. I don't. Mostly because he doesn't insist on it. Partly because I am lazy, and rarely use punctuation at all when I type for him, it's fast, very stream on consciousness, just the way I talk. And he interprets it as I go.

He does make me call him Sir (which often winds up as sir with a small s when I am typing, unless I am asking a favour). Or Master when I want to. Or Daddy when it's appropriate. I don't call him by his name. I think he would say it's about respect. I would say it's also about being special. About the special nature of our relationship.

My online friend refers to him as HIM or HE or HIS. She does it partly to be a jerk and to tease me about the importance I place on him. But it's actually startling how right it seems to capitalize his name. Because he is that important to me. And it's probably the way I think of , as HIM. He takes up that much space in my mind and in my life.

When I forget the honorific, when I just say yes or no, it comes out as naked. Bald. Confrontational almost. He corrects me, reminding me, prodding me. He says it as a reminder, but it's really a correction or rebuke. "You mean yes Sir," he will say. Waiting for me to repeat it. "Yes Sir." So whatever point I was trying to make by not using the Sir in the first place is gone, utterly diminished by having to acquiesce to his reminder.

When I meet other Dominants I wait to see if they will require it of me. If they don't I think they are weak. Of course I understand not all Doms work the same way, they don't all want the same things. I know that, but inside I think I see it as a sign of weakness. And god forbid I sense weakness.

So I guess I must like it, along with the other little signs of our power relationship that bracket our lives. And though there are days when I am impatient with some of the rituals, those days are rare, and I would be disappointed if they slipped away.

Swallowing

I'm in trouble again. AGAIN. I feel like I should put it in giant letters. IN TROUBLE AGAIN.

Sigh.

It started because I was unenthusiastic about something. A fight grew out of that.

A pretty big fight with tears from me and outrage from him.

It wound up, and then kind of wound down again.

I would say that he was as responsible for the fight as I was. At least as responsible. Really it takes two to fight doesn't it?

And I was the peacemaker.

So I offer an apology and he ignores it. And then again.

The hostilities kind of come to an end. There's no official end to the battle but apparently we have a truce.

Though we aren't lovey again or anything.

And he mentions several times that he will punish me for being a brat.

And interspersed with that he throws out warnings that until I get out of the doghouse I better just keep swallowing any perceived insult. Better keep sucking it up.

I think that when he says that I am supposed to smile sweetly and think about how lucky I am.

Status report

He says to post, that I owe it to my 51 followers (it's 52 now Sir!) and that I am letting things slide.

I kind of agree, but here's the thing. I keep complaining that I never get time with him. Or that we don't get private time. And that's still true. And it still sucks. And I'm still trying to be a good sport about it, with varying degrees of success.

Being used less often makes me feel less sexual. I just lose interest. I don't masturbate, don't really even think about it.

I don't write in my blog. And I read less of other people's. I'm not sure if that's because I feel less connected to blog world when I am not blogging or because I feel less connected to D/s when there's less sex in my life.

And I feel like all I do here is WHINE about it. So I am switching to other subjects for a bit.

The rest of my life is okay. Work is crazy busy, but challenging and fun this week. My bosses are saying nice things about me and offering me new challenges as a reward.

My diet is going pretty well. I got to where I wanted to be. Which is so remarkable for me that I still have trouble believing it. I am struggling to maintain it now. Not that it's harder to stay in one place than to lose, but I was so used to deprivation that relaxing the rules seems like a licence to eat. Wish me luck? If you have tips for me, please send them, I can use all the help and encouragement I can get.

On the exercise front, yoga and running both going well. My body feels healthy and strong and I love that. I don't think I have ever been fitter than I am right now at 50. I have been running longer runs (cause the weather is fantastic!) and while my legs and ass ache a bit, I have buns of steel. Go me!

I love that the weather is warmer. It does feel like spring is coming, though I know, living in Canada, that winter has at least one more real blast to go. But it doesn't seem it this year. All kinds of little green things are coming up and it feels like spring. Those of you who live in warmer places probably can't even imagine how wonderful it is when days get longer and brighter and warmer in Canada.

Things with my Dom are still good. We have enough relationship behind us to ride out this dry time- at least that's what we both think so far. We love each other, crave each other, and the D/s connection is amazing when we get the chance.

And there, not so D/s a post, but not all gloom and doom either.

Maybe I will ask my readers what to write about. Do you have questions? Topics? Something you wonder? Let me know and I will write about it.

And by the way, you followers, and commenters, and the lurkers who make my modest little numbers tick over, you are some of the good things in my life too. So I am sorry I have neglected you. I will try to do better.

What he said

The other day he had nipple clamps on me. He says he puts them on early to "soften up" my tits. So he put them on umm, I think it was around 8 pm for a 10 o'clock meeting. And they were fine at first, fine for a while and then they weren't fine. Then they hurt. Then they fucking hurt. And I couldn't seem to just ignore them. So I told him that they hurt and asked him very sweetly if we could take them off.

His response. "No slut, I'm not ready to take the clamps off your titties yet. Find something to distract yourself with."

And I said "yes Sir," as sweetly as I could. And took myself away so that I could mutter under my breath about what a fucking bully he was.

And distract myself with chores (which made it worse, pulling and pressing and twisting and stretching - just BAD!), and then with food (amazing how much food I could put in my mouth in a short period of time, and how little any of that helped at all!), and finally by taking all my clothes off except my panties, and finding a book and staying as still as I could til the time was up.

It gave me time to reflect on what he had said and the way he had said it.

"No slut." The crucial part there of course is the no message. He could have let me. Fucking bully. I suppose though that I do like that he decides. Of course I like that he decides. At least I like it in the big overall picture of our relationship. Sometimes not so much in the moment. I guess this was one of those moments.

"slut". Yeah I suppose I am. He would likely have meant that as a reminder that I am a pain slut. At least he says I am. I agree sometimes, but I feel it more when I am craving pain, hungry for it. And at that point I really was not.

"I'm not ready to take the clamps off your titties yet." I'm not ready. Wow. So much power there. He isn't ready so they don't come off. He just doesn't want it yet. So we wait. He wasn't ready to pay attention to me, so we were just gonna wait, and while we waited for the appointed time he would just hurt me. Just being kind of casually brutal. Casually. Not a big deal for him. Very big deal for me. Like he could talk and be normal. He could chat on the phone with friends or take out the trash or read a book. Maybe do a crossword puzzle. I could sit really still and try not to cry until he was ready to pay attention to hurting me. So we just waited. And yeah, I think all that's pretty hot as I write it now. And I love that part of the power dynamic overall. But, jeez, living it, in the moment, it's very hard to manage pain when there isn't anyone on the other end of it, caring that it's being offered.

The word "titties". Is that the most condescending, humiliating word for breasts ever? Totally taking away from the agony I was going through, he brings it down to a high school locker room level by calling my poor tortured tits "titties". I didn't protest of course. Do I seem like an idiot?

"Find something to distract yourself with." So I did. First chores. Which I knew I had to do anyway, and I had been doing some before I came to ask for release from the evil clamps, and so I did, and cried a bit while I did them too. Damn it hurt. (Somehow I swear more while in pain or writing about pain than I do in all the rest of my life combined. I wonder why?)

Then I ate. That'll show him. Fucker.Only of course it didn't. He didn't know or care at that point. I was standing with the fridge door open, just after my teary chores, breathing through my mouth, eating, looking for comfort in food, trying not to throw up, or cry again, or feel the pain, or rebel.

Then I went upstairs, stripped off everything except the clamps and my cute little black thong, thinking that he might notice me, want me, do me earlier. And that if he still didn't start before 10, at least he wouldn't have to work through layers to get to the clamps. I got my book and sat on the bed trying to read. Trying to concentrate.

Eventually he came, a little early, and gave me a "good girl" for being almost nekkid and he watched me trying to read, admiring my body and my obedience. He allowed me to get my collar, observing that it would make it easier for me. He wasn't seduced by my body though, it didn't speed things up at all, he just watched and admired.

He had me put my hands behind my back, his favourite position for me. I think he didn't do that for me to help me distract myself. I think he did that so that I would focus on the pain and on my submission to him. And on the pain.

When he saw me with his collar on and the clamps and nothing else, with my hands behind my back where he had directed them. Just waiting for him and suffering. He said "gosh that's beautiful. Submission and pain." That helped. The admiration and the approval. I still wanted to cry though.

And at 10 o'clock he announced that we could get started. Yes I knew we were kind of waiting for him to be done his other stuff and be ready for me and that we couldn't possibly take the clamps off til then, because it wouldn't be ideal for him. And in my mind, we were waiting for 10 pm, a somewhat artificial deadline, but a deadline nonetheless, for him to take the clamps off. In his mind we were waiting for 10 for the play to begin.

He actually took the clamps off at 10:24. But who's keeping score?

Where have I been?

Last week he pointed out that I was less sexual than usual. Just out of the blue.

I really hate that.

To me, sexual is sexy, desirable, pretty. If I'm not sexual, I'm not desirable.

So I was instantly defensive when he pointed this out.

And clearly it was his fault that I wasn't feeling sexual. Because he hadn't been available, hadn't played with me, hadn't desired me. He was preoccupied with other things and has been for a while so ... it was his fault right?

I get that this is a leap of logic that not all of you would make. But I did, and was miserable. Partly because I was feeling asexual, and all the resulting feelings of being undesired and undesirable. Partly because I was mad at him for making me feel that way. And partly because I was mad at him for teasing me about it - or taunting, or whatever the hell he was doing.

And then I got all snarled up in how upset and mad I was. And I couldn't explain it to him, why I was so mad. I didn't really understand it myself.

And he was mad back at me. Because he also gets defensive about shit. In his case, it was other shit, which he could write about on his own blog if he had one, for his own blog friends to be on his side. So we were both miserable for several days.

And in the middle of all that misery he suggested that maybe I would feel better if I wrote something and posted it on my blog. And maybe I would have but there are several pitfalls to that suggestion. First is that I didn't know what I would write, hadn't really defined my problem, though I sure did know I was mad and miserable.

Second, I hate the idea of airing my dirty laundry in public - what would have emerged over the weekend would have been an angry rant. I know I am doing it now, but we are pretty much back in the happily ever after phase of our little fairy tale relationship so now I can tell it as something we have overcome.

And third he reads my blog, and the last thing the angry defensive Dom should read is the angry rant of his sub. I learned long ago that it's dangerous to write it down when I am furious, that it can and will come back to bite me in the ass.

So I didn't write it. Til now. Because, as I said we are okay again.

The thing is that he is the custodian of my sexuality. He likes that. And no, apparently he doesn't find it a burden. And mostly I like him having custody and control of it too. Except when he seems disinterested. Or doesn't use it at all. Lets it lapse.

And then suddenly I am crazy. Furious. Insecure. And all kinds of other unattractive things.

I'm so vulnerable to him. It's scary sometimes.