Wednesday, August 11, 2010

We owe each other the world...

So, I've been mulling some things over for the last few months, in regards to this blog.

Looks like I'll be changing addresses to my own domain soon, and dropping anonymity.

This whole blogging anonymously has been an experiment, something I've never done before. The only reason I engaged in it for as long as I have was because I wanted to be truly able to write freely without repercussion, without having to worry about who will read what and take it in what manner.

At this point, my primary concern would be, of course, PD and C, though, really, I shouldn't be worrying about either of them. C knows I love her to death, love her personality, and am constantly amused that we are so different. PD, well, my brain shifts around so much on him, on my future, but he knows that. I have no poker face.

If I was ever able to hide my emotions, gravity would likely stop working due to shock.

I suppose things will change some, when there's a face and a life to the writing. That happens.

And I'm going to be linking to PD's blog as well, because he's such an excellent writer and... yeah, I think he's pretty great. So you'll also be able to see things from his point of view, if you feel so inclined, including the GV8 engagement and subsequent breakdown over last Memorial Day weekend.

I'll also be able to sort my rambles into different categories (finally), so those of you who get sick of my sex posts, game posts, babbling nonsense posts, and wait for others can avoid the types that you don't enjoy.

So that all should be happening by the end of August. Waiting for some header art to be completed, then going to start stringing it all together.

Then you'll have a face to go with the writing.

... ... ...

Disclaimer: not work safe, not vanilla safe, if yesterday's post wasn't your thing at all (sorry!), then don't continue to read. This one does not include urine. Fortunately. Because then I would have had to shower and we would have been late for dinner.

I spent my drive to PD's yesterday texting him and taunting him, like I do. I like that, eventually, he'll simply smack me down, verbally or physically.

So I arrived at the warehouse, laughing at his latest response, walked in, found him buried in his nerdery, cleaning up for another porn company renting his warehouse as a film location.

Then, then he walked into the office on the first floor and came out with a coach whip. Not for me, just cleaning up, as that office gets used for make-up, costume, and talent chillage. He comes out, starts flicking the tip of the whip at the cats (it has a little tassle on the end- think of those long, sorta flimsy whips that they illustrate for buggy drivers in cartoons depicting the early 1900s). Then he starts flicking it at me.

So I yip, like I do, and go to turn away.

Thing is, when you're getting hit, if you can't get away super fast, you have to sit and take it, because if they miss because you're squirming, and it lands somewhere truly unpleasant, it sucks.

Which meant I stood there, squirming with my arms folded up over my head to keep them out of the way, as he walked around me, whipping me- mostly my ass and thighs.

About, oh, two minutes in, my body went whoosh. Whoosh like post-orgasm whoosh. There was no orgasm, but my body reacted like I had just had a major one.

I've never had that happen before, as a reaction to pain.

But I usually go for impact-blows, not stinging ones.

It was fantastic. I started slouching in on myself and PD stood in front of me so I could wrap my arms around him and lean until I got control of my muscles again. I felt like purring.

He let me relax for a few minutes, and once I got my feet under me, I found myself bent over what I call "the creep gyno-chair" (he has two, both are creepy, but one is creepier than the other). More whip, then he slid in and started alternating fucking and whipping until he came.

Thought we were done there but, no, we were not. He got me out of my clothes (top had been over my head, pants around the knees), walked me over to the shiny new BDSM horse he received just a few weeks ago.

Cracking me across the face, caning, wooden paddle, a crop, I was gushing. He came in me again, then disappeared, came back, used three clamps to clamp my lips shut (no, not the lips on my face, the other lips). Then the cold sensation of lube on my ass.

See, we have this problem. He's a big, big fan of anal. My ass is near virgin tight. We've been working on it with plugs and fingers, stretching out the muscles, but I'm still not loose enough to really take him and not do damage.

So he gets out a plug that I cannot see the size of and starts inserting. I'm whimpering, louder and louder the deeper it goes, until I'm nearly shouting and he has to come around and sit on the right ledge of the horse by my face and whisper and kiss my forehead, tell me how good I'm being, as he continues to slide it in. Tears are running down my face at this point, he's whispering for me to relax, to breathe, and I'm trying.

Finally got it in.

He gets up, takes the clamps off my now quite sore lips, and slides in slowly.

As he fucks me, I pop it out. He holds it against me, tells me to back up and fuck it and him. I do, it eventually slides in all the way. Pops out a few more times, when he's thrusting hard, but he thrusts it back in. Grabs the Hitachi, angles himself so he can continue to thrust, but work the wand between my legs.

Too much stimulation, though, either makes me squirt or clamp down (muscle-wise). Hit that point, and I look over my shoulder and ask him to come in me. I hear the Hitachi hit the floor, then he's going for it. I feel him fill me again, surprised he's still got anything left in him.

He comes up alongside me, afterwards, kisses me, cleans me up, smiles. I'm purring and squirming at him, still lying on the horse, as he strokes the length of my body.

This, this is sex. This is touching the top layer of rough sex and I can't wait to go deeper, see what my body can do, what he can do to my body. Where my limits are and what happens when I reach them.


  1. Poetry,

    Thank you for sharing this, and PD's e-mail, with us. It is enlightening and refreshing to see that you really mean it when you say "rough sex."

    It seems as if PD & I share many fetishes, although I have rarely been lucky enough to have a girl who shares them. I think this level of kinkiness displays an equal level of sophisitication, and in my part of the world, girls tend to have a very simple upbringing.

    Perhaps I will have to move to the city to find girls anxious to indulge my own bondage and watersports impulses.

    I look forward to seeing your face and following your blog into non-anonimity.

  2. PaulRU,

    I've got a dozen different rants on topics of girls who say they like rough sex but whimper when their hair gets pulled. Or girls that talk about how good they are in bed, but lie there like a fish. Or girls that say they can give great head, but make the experience pathetic. It makes my life so much more annoying.

    In the girls' defense, I had a very simple, Christian upbringing very high on the family-values scale. It's just my sexuality that deviated. And you're quite right that it requires a level of intelligence and sophistication. You can find dirty girls, but I've found that if they only have one of the two traits, things will be off.

    You should move to the city. Infinitely more opportunities for stimulation and growth. And that sounded dirtier than was intended. I'm leaving it anyway.

    Ah, you made me smile. Thanks.


    Hehe, I know! You know, instead of OKC, you might want to try some of the alternative sites. Just saying...

  3. I did just hear about an alternative site a few days ago.. and I joined. I'm talking to someone now and I'm intrigued. I need another blog, I don't want my mommy type friends reading about it. Meh.