Intensity

The last few days were spent with friends and family for the Thanksgiving weekend. This meant that Llama had to be on her best behavior (which she was) and that her submissive tendencies were dialed down while in public.

She did a perfect job in packing everything and planning the logistics of the travel, leaving me free to take care of work before we left and all I had to do was drive. She presented herself perfectly for each occasion we were in this weekend, dressing appropriately and even sexy with taste.

Unfortunately, when we arrived back home, I had to leave the unpacking to Llama as well, as I had to go to work. We finally made some time to be alone last night. We had a quiet dinner, and afterwards, I sat sipping at a drink as Llama went to bathe, pamper, and primp. When she appeared back in the living room, she was dressed in a skin-tight, spaghetti string camisole, her very short skirt, thigh-highs, heels, and her collar. Under the skirt, she sported a new pair of baby blue lace panties that were a cross between boy shorts and a thong. Very nice, indeed.

I was sitting on the couch, and instructed her to lie down on her back, putting her head in my lap. I could look down at her lovely body, and easily reach over and fondle her at will. This I did for about 30 minutes, teasing her and getting her even hornier than she already was. Finally, I had her get up to refill my glass, and get her new toy from the bedroom. She came back and resumed her original position, handing me her new toy. She had gotten it at the party she had attended a few weeks ago, and we had not had a chance to really use it yet. It is a double bullet vibrator. I turned it on low, and started running them over her body. I slid one down her body, and slid it under the flimsy fabric of her panties. She was so wet, it easily slid right into her pussy, eliciting a load moan from her. I took the second one and again traced it down her body, slid it too inside her panties, and positioned it so that the fabric would hold it in place right above her clit. I removed my hand, then used my fingers to apply pressure to it from outside her panties.

She was moaning and squirming from the vibrations being shot through her body. After a few minutes, I increased the speed of the vibrations, and began massaging the bullet into her clit with small circles and increased pressure. It must have been wonderfully agonizing for her, as she squirmed and bucked against it, trying to get the perfect angle and position to allow her a release. I didn't want to allow her that release, not yet. I let it build slowly and as she reached the brink, I would draw it away and leave her wanting. Soon, she could no longer stand it, her head was cocked back in my lap, eyes screwed shut, mouth dropped open, panting like a dog in heat. I slid the second bullet into her pussy along with the first, and when the two touched and vibrated against each other, she let out a squeal and then a gasp. She was whimpering, begging me with her eyes to stop teasing her and allow her to cum. I pulled the second bullet back out, slid it back over her clit, and went to work on her once more. This time, it was with determination. I had played with her for close to 45 minutes by this time, and she was so tight with pent up sexual frustration, I thought she would explode. I worked her clit with the bullet hard, mashing it into her clit. She began to move her hips to get the right pressure and position again, this time, I didn't stop. I kept working her, hard. It didn't take long. I saw the look on her face tighten, her eyes closed tight as a drum. She tensed up, her back arched and she started squealing. That was it, she was over the edge and cumming hard. Her legs began to flail, her hips bucked uncontrollably, her breathing was in ragged gasps, her skin flushed as she rode the wave or orgasmic pleasure. Just as it appeared that she was done with her climax, I would move the bullet ever so slightly and adjust pressure, and it would send her into another climax, harder than the last. She came long and hard, multiple orgasms lasting several minutes. When I finally pulled it away and let her relax, she went totally limp and lay in my lap sweaty and spent.

When she finally was able to talk, she was dreamy and ready to go to bed. I agreed, and sent her to the bedroom, just not to sleep. I had her strip and kneel and await me. When I entered the room, I had her suck my cock as I stood in front of her, then I laid on the bed and had her continue. She then used the bullet on my balls as she licked and sucked my cock. I let her go on, sucking me like a wild woman, for several minutes. I then put her face down on the bed, and again got her worked up. I lubed up her ass and inserted one of the bullets in her ass, then put the other under her clit. I wasted no time, sticking my cock all the way in to her pussy. She let out a yelp and began breathing hard. As I started sliding in and out of her, she began to beg for more and more. After a few minutes, she came again, but I was not done with her. I flipped her over and put her ankles over my shoulders, and slid back in with one thrust. She gasped and shuddered when I did, and it took only a couple minutes before she was bucking again beneath me, this time the intensity of the vibrator in her ass and the pressure it put on me while sliding in and out of her was too much for me and I exploded inside her, filling her with a thick load. We fell into the bed, still entwined together. We lay there for several minutes before either of us could move.

When I got my legs back beneath me, I got up and got cleaned up, instructing her to do the same. I went back out in the living room to sit and enjoy the afterglow and sip at my drink. She joined me a few minutes later, and we stared at the TV for a while. It wasn't long before we decided it was time for bed. I locked up the house, and we headed back to the bedroom.

I was messing around with her, teasing her by tickling and flicking her ears. She always gets frustrated, because I am not ticklish, so she can't get me back. After a couple minutes of that, it turned into pinching and slapping. Soon, she was aroused again, moaning and begging me to do more. What started as simple teasing was now turning into S&M. I was biting her, scratching her, pulling and twisting her nipples, and smacking her thighs, chest and face. The rougher I got, the more she wanted. Her breathing was fast, her moans louder and loader, she was panting and squirming. She would beg me to hit her harder, bite harder, pull and pinch harder... nothing was enough. Soon, she found herself held down with me on top of her, again inside her. Each time I thrust and she moaned, I grabbed another handful of hair and pulled harder, which caused her to yelp and ask for more. It didn't matter how much I hurt her, she was so into it, that she wanted more. By the time we both climaxed, I had left bite and scratch marks all over her body, and she was shaking from the pleasure. We laid in bed, and I held her as she sobbed. She laid there and cried all over my shoulder - the release of so much pent up anxiety and frustration from the previous couple of weeks just overwhelmed her. Finally, we both drifted off to sleep.

Admission of a pain slut

I was going to have Llama write about the events over the past couple weeks, but she asked if I would do it for her, as some of it was a blur to her. Some time back, she mentioned that she was rather enjoying the pain aspect of our play and sessions, as well as just getting rougher during sex.

After all the emotions blew over from the events surrounding her night out with the girls and the party, things became much better. After we sat and talked, and I clearly outlined what I expected from her at all times, she began to understand why I had become angry and where she had gone astray. She did not receive a physical punishment for this transgression. The anger I expressed to her and the volatile conversation was more than enough to put her in her place and set her back on the correct path.

Since then, we have had several very heated love making encounters. Each time, they started out rather vanilla and soft, but they climaxed into something much rougher. With each one that followed, things got more and more physical, and rougher. She finally confessed the other night, that she loved the pain I was inflicting upon her. Everything I was doing to her was not enough for her anymore, she desired a new level of pain and humiliation to reach her desired climax, and to fully give herself to me.

What began as slapping her ass and thighs during sex, became smacking and beating. What started as light slaps to the face, reached a point where if not careful, would leave visible bruises to her lovely face - this is something I have no desire to do to her. Not when she must conduct herself in a professional environment each day.

Recently, she has begun to beg me to hit her harder, pinch more, and mark her frequently. While our schedules have unfortunately not allowed much in the way of full-blown sessions, we've managed to make due with what we can, when we can.

The items she purchased at her little sex party arrived the other day. I look forward to using them on her in the very near future. All has gotten much better between us, and I didn't think it was possible for us to get closer than we already were, but we have. She is very much in her place, and doing very well. We are planning a little trip, and as an added way for her to serve me, I told her she could pack for me. She has been asking me as of late for more responsibilities, and for new ways for her to serve me. I thought this would be an ideal way for her to show her submissive skills. I told her what I needed and wanted to be brought, and left the rest to her.

Llama read on another D/s Blog about the Master buying a maid's uniform for his sub. Nothing kinky, just a regular hotel-type maid uniform. She mentioned it to me, with a twinkle in her eye. I commented that it was a good idea, and that maybe I should purchase one for her to wear around the house to do her chores in. She grinned and asked me why I had thought she had mentioned it to me. She wanted it the whole time, but didn't want to come out and ask for it. So, I have checked out several uniform suppliers and found a few I like, and they are reasonably priced. Who knows, maybe I will have to get her one in the near future. Opens up a whole new realm of roll playing, fantasy, and kink...... and gives a whole new meaning to the term 'room service'!

Moving on

Well, as Master said, we've moved right along. I was a mess until Master and I discussed what had happened. When our relationship first began, I told Master that I would look my best at all times because I was representing He and our relationship.

I always look my best. I never wear sweat pants out of the house. Never. The most relaxed pants I'll wear are a type of exercise pants that are a cotton spandex and even those are rarely chosen. I owe it to Master to look my best.

I re-affirmed that to Him and apologized. This is the first time it has come up and it will be the last.

We are closer now than ever. I was brought back to that place I love and things have been better. We've been rather busy and I've spent my long weekend catching on house work that has fallen behind as of late. Hopefully things will calm and we'll find more time to spend together.

Of course the more time we spend together, the more He beats me, the more I crave Him. I crave His attention, His words, His force, and so many other things that drive my submissive body and mind, absolutely crazy.

Moving forward

I did get past it, actually the next day. And we made up and are closer now than ever before, if that was possible. She will explain in more detail within the next couple days. I ask that you bear with us until then.

A Failure

That's how I felt Saturday morning. It was very early and I found myself awake and feeling even worse than I did Friday night. After I got home Friday night, I was still upset. Earlier in the day, I had soaked in a bath tub. The past few days have been incredibly rough on me, and Master insisted that I take a hot bath. So, I did. I didn't take a shower and wash my hair. I soaked in the tub.

As the afternoon wore on, things needed to be handled around the house and I hadn't heard from Master about this party. So, I took care of things and had some things to do for work; I got the things done around the house and found myself rather grimey. I still hadn't heard from Master and it was about 6pm. He was going to be late and I had no way to leave the house: I couldn't.

So, I assumed (rather incorrectly, but not meaning any harm) that I wasn't going to make it. I threw my P.J.'s on and started on my work. I had make-up on from working during the day, I threw my hair into a pony tail and settled in on the couch. Master called and let me know that I had a half hour to be ready. This was not good. I was a mess with the make-up being the only thing going for me.

I had attended one of these 'ladies only' parties before and knew that they were informal. I really didn't think anything of the way I was dressed. Master hadn't told me what He wanted me to wear, although I do admit the ball cap was a bit too much. I freshened up my make-up after getting dressed.

When I'm in a hurry, I want to get going. I don't like being late for anything and was pacing, wanting for Master to get home. By time He was coming in the door, I was ready to head out. He kissed me and said, "Hello." I said hey back and asked where I was going. "Do you want to go?"

"Yes Master, I just need to know where I'm going." By this time, I wanted to be heading out the door and on my way. I hate being late.

I guess my being in a hurry translated into attitude. The next thing I know, He threw His keys at the couch and got very angry at me. I literally stood by the door and stared at Him with my mouth dropped open, trying in vain to figure out what the hell was going on. I stormed out and took off, driving way too fast but not really caring. I was pissed off and sobbing. I stopped down the street from the party and sat in my car, sobbing. I was embarrassed, especially because I knew Master was embarrassed. I didn't want to go. I called Him, asking Him how much I could spend, if anything. I also told Him that I was too embarrassed to go in because of the way I was dressed.

"Don't worry about it, you look ok. Go and have fun."

Then I came home and read what He had written. Apparently how I was dressed was not OK and it had embarrassed Him. As soon as I returned, he had to leave to handle a problem at work, so I sat and sobbed even harder in the chair as I read it. I was hurt terribly. If was dressed so badly, I shouldn't have been allowed to go. I didn't tell Him that the hostess was in sweats and a tee-shirt and everyone else was in jeans and tee-shirts.

I did tell Him that after He got home.

By this time, I was hurt and so very angry. I almost felt like He'd lied to me. There wasn't an ounce of respect in my voice. I laid right into Him. I'd been sliding for a few weeks with the argument being the straw that broke the camels back. The post was too much. I wanted to push Him, I wanted to be yelled at and made to submit. I wanted to be punished, I wanted to kneel and be reassured but He was too angry and annoyed with me. We argued more, going back and forth.

I was begging Him to stop. I can't take guilt trips, and that was how I took what He was saying. I had asked Him the other night in bed, where our Master/submissive relationship was suppose to fit with of each being so busy.

"It's everyday and all day. Don't worry about it, we'll talk more tomorrow."

Tomorrow never came for that conversation. And now I was being reassured in my thoughts that I was being too needy and too demanding. I'm asking too much. I made a mistake and was wrong and it turned into this.

He sent me too bed with a "Quit standing there, sit down, or do something, but don't stand there in the doorway." I whispered "sorry" and slipped into the bedroom. I curled up into a small ball and sobbed heavily into my pillow. I cried quietly so I wouldn't anger Him more. I didn't move when He came in and got into bed. I wanted to feel His arms around me just to reassure me that we'd be good again once we both settled down. I felt a million miles away from Him. He turned away and fell asleep.

How much more unslavely can I be? How much more of a failure can I be? I want to serve Him and I do that well for awhile until I screw up so miserably, we both ended up angry and asking 'why?'. It makes me wonder if I'm good enough for Him. I know I'm too needy. I wonder if I can "cut it" as He said last night. I know I can and I do. It's things like these arguments that make me wonder.

I'm hurt right now and I'm not sure of what to do. The past few days have been hard on me and Friday night made everything 100 times worse. I was left questioning myself even more than ever and questioning my abilities. Just a few days before, I was "doing a good job." Now, Master wants to know if I can "cut it." Friday night was the first time that I know of, that Master has been embarrassed of what I was dressed in. I'm very aware in how I present myself and I'm always looking my best. Had I known that He thought I should've been dressed better, I would've taken the time and effort to make myself more presentable. As I've always said, Master's opinion matters more than my own.

I came home from the party wanting to talk like Master said we would, but He had to leave. I wanted to talk, get past it, and wanted to spend time with Him. It turned into a complete disaster. At that time, I didn't know if we were okay. I didn't get an 'I love you too' the following morning as He left for work. I did get my kiss and it made me cry because all I want to do is love and serve Him. That's all I ever want to do.

I'm not sure what the fall out will be. I can only hope that He continues to be my Master. Even if He decides not to be, I'll still go to Him and ask His opinion and seek His guidance. That'll never stop.

We've suffered through worse but it always looks bleak when it's happening.

Choices and consequences

By this point, I thought she would have known and understood without being told. I guess, I didn't make it clear enough, and now I must go back to re-teach what should have already been known.

Several weeks ago, Llama was invited to attend a girls-only toy and lingerie party. The invite came from the wife of one of my friends. I thought it would do her good to get out, make some friends away from me, and have a night alone.

As the weeks went by, we both forgot about it, until two days ago. I bumped into the wife of another friend, and she asked if Llama would be at the party tonight. I asked her what she was talking about, then remembered the invite from all those weeks ago. I called Llama to remind her about it, and she too had forgotten. I asked her if she still wanted to go, and she was unsure.

After 2 days of debate, we were talking about it again today, and she was still not sure if she wanted to go. I had told her it didn't matter to me, that if she wanted to go she could, and if she didn't, she didn't have to. I did tell her I thought it would be good for her to get out and have a change of pace for a night. She finally told me that she desired me to instruct her as to what she do. I told her she would be going, and that was that. This decision was made around 12:30 this afternoon.

Part of the problem was, neither of us could remember what time it started, and I was unable to get up with the hostess yesterday or today to find out. Also, she had said all those weeks ago that invitations would be sent and she never did that. Llama was worried that she was not really invited after all, and felt unsure about going.

Finally, as I was on my way home from work, late again, I heard back from the hostess. She indeed wanted Llama to attend, and the party was at 7. I looked at my watch, and it was 6:30. I told her she would be there, but she might be a few minutes late. She said that would be fine. I called Llama, and told her to get ready to go, that I would be home in about 15 minutes or so, and she could leave. I needed to give her a check, so she could make purchases of anything she liked. Luckily, the hostess lives only a few minutes away, so she would not be overly late.

When I arrived home, Llama was getting her keys to leave, and she looked mad. She also was dressed way to casually for my tastes. She stood before me in jeans, a sweatshirt and a ball cap. One of the things I truly love about Llama is that she can go from jeans and a t-shirt to a dress and heels, hair and make-up done to the nines, and fit into any environment.

So, when I saw her standing there, dressed like that for a party, and with the chip on her shoulder, I asked her what was going on and what was wrong. She informed me that she had to get dressed quickly, since she had not heard back from today about it, and that she had already been in her pajamas and ready to relax for the night, and had not planned on going.

I blew my top, rather quickly. I was very angry with her for her presumption, even after I told her she was going, simply because since out discussion she had not heard back from me and she figured that she was not going to attend, despite our earlier conversation.

Not only had she taken it upon herself to incorrectly assume she was not going, but she was not dressed as she should have been. When she is out, whether with me or alone, her appearance to others is a direct reflection upon me. I expect her to be properly dressed for the occasion, whatever that may be. In my opinion, she was not. What ensued was me getting very agitated with her. I raised my voice and yelled at her, that not only should she not have been in her pajamas, thinking she was not going, but she should have been attired better for the event. She tried to offer a feeble excuse that she didn't have much time to get ready after my call, and that was the best she could do on short notice. I again reminded her that earlier in the day I had told her she would be going, and this excuse did not hold up. She began to cry, unsure of why I was so angry with her.

I quickly retrieved a check from the checkbook, gave it to her, and reminded her of the directions on how to get to the house. I then sent her on her way. I am embarrassed about the way she will look when she arrives. There is nothing I can do about it now, there is no time. A few minutes after she left, she called me from the cell phone and asked how much money she was allowed to spend, if any. I asked her why she thought I gave her a blank check if I didn't expect her to buy anything. I told her to get whatever she liked, within reason, and to use her best judgment. She also commented that she felt like she was not dressed appropriate for the occasion after what I had said to her. I told her she wasn't, and that was not something that could be helped at this point. I told her to go and have a good time, and I would talk to her about it when she got home.

I will need to remind her, again, that her appearance in public with or without me, but especially without me, is a direct reflection upon me and I was not at all happy in how she chose to go out tonight. Granted that 30 minutes is not a lot of time for a woman to get dressed to go out for the night, but she could have thrown on a nicer outfit, some make-up and done something with her hair quickly in that time.

This will be a lesson she will have to learn the hard way.