Have You Been Naughty?

July 16th, 2015

She fidgeted with the hem of her short skirt. Too short, by strict reading of the rules, but no one ever bothered her about it. No one minded that she showed a bit too much leg, kept her shirt unbuttoned a little too far, flirted a bit too easily. Not until today, that is. Today she had been called to the headmaster’s office of this private, all-girls college, that her parents had shipped her off to last fall. She would be safe there, they had thought, safe from the temptations of boys, and the dangers of alcohol. She wondered sometimes, if her parents had any clue about the real world.

“Excuse me, Miss.” The sharp tone pulled her out of her thoughts and she glanced up. From the thin, tight lips and the narrowed eyes, she was certain it was not the first time the secretary had tried to get her attention.

“Sorry.” She mumbled and stood up, as the woman motioned her towards the office.

“Close it.” The headmaster did not look up as she entered, and she pulled the heavy wooden door shut behind her, cutting off all sound from the outer offices.

She hesitated by the door for a moment, then straightened her shoulders and walked forward to stand before the large wooden desk. He still had not looked at her, his eyes focused on the computer screen on the right side of the desk. She clasped her hands behind her back to keep herself from pulling at her skirt again, and waited.

She focused on the edge of his desk, not wanting to stare at him, needing to keep her mind from wandering too far afield again. Why was she here? The professor had not said. He had been given a note in the middle of his lecture, and, when it was over, had told her she was to report here immediately. She had not broken any rules today, nor yesterday. Sure, she had broken a few over the weekend, but why summon her today, then? It wasn’t like she had done anything new last weekend, and she did not remember being seen sneaking back into the dorm. Had someone else gotten caught? She hadn’t heard about it. Did someone rat her out? Who would…

“Miss Gruenwald.” She managed not to jump when he finally spoke, startling her out of her ever deepening spiral of thought.

“Yes, Sir.” She raised her eyes to meet his.

“Do you know why you’re here, today, Katherine?”

“No, Sir.”

“Are you sure?” He arched an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“No, Sir. I mean, I don’t know why, today, Sir. I mean…” She stopped short and took a breath.

“You mean that you’ve broken so many rules over the last six months, that you’re not sure which one has brought you here today?”

“Yes, Sir. I mean, no, Sir. I…” She flush bright red and dropped her gaze to the floor as he laughed.

“Katherine, you don’t seem to know what you mean. But I do, I hear things, you know, all sorts of things. Being the headmaster of an all-girls college, I’d wager, is the best place to hear the most interesting stories. Most of them I ignore, girls out on their own for the first time, having harmless fun. But sometimes, Katherine, it goes over the line, and I have a responsibility to the parents who pay my salary, to protect their daughters from themselves. To correct certain behavior, and yes, sometimes to… punish… the girls under my care.”

The way he said punish, with a pause before, and again for a breath after, sent a shiver down her spine, and her flush deepened. He had stopped speaking, but she could not bring herself to look at him. Not yet. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, let it out slowly. Then lifted her gaze back above the desk, to his thick hands clasped before him, his tie, his collar, up to his face, and then met his eyes.

“That’s better. Now, why don’t you tell me about last weekend? Ah! Don’t drop your eyes. Look at me, and tell me about Saturday night.”

“I… Yes, Sir.” She cleared her throat, and began again. “I went into town to see a movie, Sir. Alone.”

“Alone?”

“I mean, I left here alone, Sir. I was meeting someone, a boy, Sir.” He nodded and she went on. “We met up at the theater, had popcorn and soda, and after he walked me most of the way back to campus. It was late, so I climbed up the fire escape and in the window to get back in.”

“I know all of that, Katherine. Tell me what I don’t know.” The flush had been receding, and now came back full force. “Yes, that’s it, those thoughts are what I want to know.”

“The movie was boring, and there were only a couple other people there, all the way at the bottom row. We were up top. So, we made out some…” She trailed off, glancing away.

“Look at me, Katherine.” She pulled her gaze back to his. “Go on…”

“Yes, Sir. We, I mean, he… I…” She stopped and took another breath. “The movie was really terrible, Sir. We did more than just kissing. Eventually, I even went down on him.”

“You sucked his cock in the middle of a movie theater, Katherine?”

“Yes, Sir.” She clenched her jaw to keep from looking away.

“Say it.”

“I sucked his cock in the movie theater, Sir.”

“Did you swallow?”
“Yes, Sir, what?” She was so flustered, she answered without thinking about what he had said.

“Good girl.”

Her mouth fell open, but she could not think what to say, so she closed it again.

“Then what?”

“He…uh… we left after the movie to come back here.” He nodded, and she was glad he did not want any more details of their movie make-out session.

“What happened on the way back here?”

“We… he… He wanted to thank me for the blow job. So, we stopped for a bit in the softball dugout on the edge of campus.”

“And…” He prompted.

“And… first he put me over his knee, and spanked me, Sir.”

“Spanked you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Why?”

“Because I like it, Sir.”

“Tell me about the spanking, Katherine.”

“He pulled me over his knee, lifted my skirt up, and yanked my panties down. Told me I was a very naughty girl for sucking his cock in a public theater. And that I needed to be punished. Then he spanked my bare ass with his hand. He spanked me until I begged him to stop.”

“If you like it, why did you beg him to stop?”

“Because I wanted him to fuck me, Sir. And he did, Sir, we had sex on the dugout bench.”

“I see. Well, he was right, you are a very naughty girl, and you definitely need… punished.”

He did it again, that pause for emphasis that made her shiver, this time it also made her a little wet.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Say it.”

“I’m a very naughty girl, Sir, and I need to be punished.”

“Good girl.”

“Would you like it if I punished you, Katherine?”

She bit her lip, not sure how to answer, but nodded anyway.

“I won’t fuck you like your boyfriend did, but I do want to spank that bare ass of yours.” He stood up and pointed at the front of his desk. “Bend over and brace yourself. Count for me, and say thank you.” He came around the desk and she spread her legs for balance and bent over.

He lifted her too-short skirt, laying it over her back. Then hooked his fingers in the sides of her panties and pulled them halfway down her thighs. Placing one hand on the small of her back, he left out a soft noise of appreciation.

“Ready?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Smack.

“One. Thank you, Sir.”

Smack.

“Two. Thank you, Sir.”

Smack.

“Three. Thank you, Sir.”

Smack.

“Four. Thank you, Sir.”

Smack.

“Five. Thank you, Sir.”

Smack.

“Six. Thank you, Sir.”

Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten… on and on the smack of his hand against her bare ass. She counted and thanked him for each one. Moaning out the numbers by the time he reached the teens. Dripping wet by the time he got to twenty. Desperate by the time he got to thirty.

“Oh, please, Sir.”

“Please, what?”

“May I orgasm, Sir?”

“No.”

Smack.

“Thirty-one. Thank you, Sir.”

Smack.

“Thirty-two. Thank you, Sir.”

Smack.

“Thirty-three. Thank you, Sir.”

Smack.

“Thirty-four. Thank you, Sir.”

Smack.

“Thirty-five. Thank you, Sir. Please, Sir.”

“No.”

Smack.

“Thirty-six. Thank you, Sir.”

Smack.

“Thirty-seven. Thank you, Sir.”

Smack.

“Thirty-eight. Thank you, Sir.”

Smack.

“Thirty-nine. Thank you, Sir.”

Smack.

“Forty. Thank you, Sir.”

He stopped, pulled her panties back up, and her skirt back down. Then went back around to his chair and sat down.

“Miss Gruenwald, you will return to your room now, you will not masturbate or orgasm for a week, and you will not leave campus again without permission, is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir.” She reeled away from his desk, stopping at the door to gather her balance and her composure. “Thank you, Sir.”

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Kiss The Girls

November 23rd, 2014

I’m awake, so I might as well write. Watched a few odd movies tonight. Tried Fargo – just couldn’t do it. Got to the bugs taking a nightcrawler back to the nest and gave up. Watched Killing Season, almost gave up, but then it got interesting. Travolta as a Serbian, though, was driving me nuts. Then I watched Kiss the Girls, based on James Patterson’s book. That’s why I’m still awake.

*** SPOILERS ****

Read the rest of this entry »

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Monday Morning Microgasm

June 3rd, 2013

He tossed her over his knee, lifted up her skirt and yanked down her panties.

“Count them.”

He smacked her bare ass with his broad hand.

“One.” Smack “Two.” Smack “Three…”

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Blossoming Submission

September 27th, 2012

I don’t think I did justice to the topic of my journey into submission in my long rambling post. Not sure I really did justice to any of the topics I covered, but this one struck me especially. I talked more about my development over the last few years, mixed with a few popular questions of the day, around the cyclical nature of D/s and how a strong woman can be submissive. All those thoughts about control came much later, when I finally got the language for it. But how, exactly, did the submissive grow within me to start with?

Early desires, and my most guilty pleasures, revolve around over the knee spankings. I don’t know why this came about, but it started as early as grade school with an unhealthy(or so I thought) enjoyment of the poem The Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe. And in middle school blossomed into school girl fantasies that I very much enjoy to this day. With stops along the way to incorporate a Newsie spanking fantasy or two, as well.

This is where my submissive side started. A desire to bend, or be bent by, a person of authority. I was a good girl, I didn’t like causing real trouble, never got a detention, though I came close once, only got grounded once, I don’t even remember ever being spanked as punishment, though I’m sure I was when I was very young. But in these fantasies, I would get into mild trouble, and the person punishing me wouldn’t actually be angry, they’d simply be teaching me a lesson, usually in private. Punishing me for being “bad” or “naughty,” but without the public humiliation of being paddled in front of class, or others. And after I became a bit more sexually mature, I would always thank them for this lesson.

In grade school, we had a hierarchy among my friends. The one at the top of the pyramid could still the rest of us with a look, and usually a smile. I never wanted this power, but I certainly respected it. And fantasied about it. To be quelled and cowed with just a look. It made me shiver, it aroused me. It took me years to understand why. We gave him that control, and he used it, without abusing it, so he got to keep it. He ruled our part of the playground, but he was always kind and always fair. He took care of us, so we followed him. That exchange of power, so simple on the playground, and so much more powerful in a relationship, has always thrilled me. And for those who can express it with just a look, it still makes me shiver and smile.

I comment in the long rambling piece about meeting “strong men,” but what I really meant was strong dominants. Men can be strong without being sexually/kinkily dominant. And I met a woman, as well, who fit this role. I had a few boyfriends that were tops – we played physically, the only power exchange being that I was physically submitting to having things done to me. Usually things like biting, spanking, pinching, pressure points.

Then I met a couple of friends online, who, when they were dating, adopted me in a non-kinky RPG we were all playing. I still call him Daddy, or my Aussie Daddy, to this day, though it never was kink-related. When I lived with him for a (US) summer/(Australian) winter, he preferred Sir in our play. They taught me about what power exchange really felt like. I loved it, though many will say online isn’t the real thing, it was where I was first able to explore it. And explore it I did, in role play, in cybersex chats, in long-distance telephone calls. When I went to Australia, Daddy wasn’t active in the community, but we made the best of our time together. Our kink relationship was mostly physical, but I also enjoyed the bits of D/s we tossed in here and there, as well.

It was a long while before I found that again. Hubby, a sensualist, enjoyed the physical play I asked for, but D/s was not something we managed to figure out on our own. When we found the community, our explorations took different paths, as I found two dominant men that I was drawn to, and he found his own path to kink.

This blog tells the story of my journey since then, for the most part. Exploring different types of D/s and the different ways to submit and serve, learning about taking and giving control. I have tripped and fallen many times. I have had high expectations, and been crushed by reality. I have lost sight of the path and been shown the way back. I have run headlong into the darkness, and survived the fall. I have been taught, guided, chided and chastised. I have been cared for, comforted, crushed and rebuilt. I have been programmed and reprogrammed. I have experienced amazing scenes, awesome service, and incredible love, trust and understanding. Submission has always been inside of me, and these last four years have made it a rich part of my life.

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Santa Claus is Coming to Town

December 22nd, 2011

A silly little story for the holidays.

“Come here, young lady, sit on Santa’s lap.”

He didn’t look like any Santa she had ever seen before. Sure he was dressed in a fur-lined red hat, and black fur-lined boots, but that’s where the similarities stopped. He had on tight red leather pants and an unbuttoned red leather vest. And his short trimmed beard was far from white. Oh, his eyes twinkled with merriment, but his stomach certainly did not resemble jelly.

She walked forward slowly, chewing on her lower lip, eyes darting from the floor up to him and back down again. What was he playing at? She sat down on his knee, tugging belatedly on the hem of her very short red silk dress.

“There now, have you been a good little girl this year?”

“I…” She looked into his eyes, crinkling with laughter and made a decision. “I’ve been good at it.”

“Oh-ho-ho. Have you, now?”

“Yes.” She sat up straighter.

“Good at what, precisely, little girl?”

“At being naughty, Santa. Isn’t that why you’re here?” She grinned at him as he laughed again.

“Yes, yes it is. You’re right at the top of the naughty list, and I thought a personal visit might be in order.”

“I’m flattered. The top of the list, you say? Very flattered.” She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pressed herself against his chest.

“Yes, I’m sure you are.” He snaked one hand up her back and settled it on her neck. “But I haven’t come for a demonstration.” He spun her around and over the knee she had been sitting on, and lifted her skirt. “I didn’t think coal would quite get the message across this year.”

She squirmed and spluttered, but he held her fast with his left hand as his right lifted the back of her dress and then pulled down her black silk panties. The first smack sent shivers through her body and she yelped. He did not pause, but when straight to his work, spanking her harder and harder, til her yelps turned to moans and her moans turned to tears. She writhed in his lap, not daring to put her hands behind her, crying as her ass turned as red as his clothing.

“Oh, and I must not forget your present.” He paused and reached into the sack beside him, pulling out a wooden paddle. Engraved on one side was the word Naughty and on the other, Nice. “Just so you remember.”

He flipped the paddle so that Nice was facing her already bruise bottom and brought it down hard. She screamed and flailed, but he held her tightly and brought it down again, in exactly the same spot. Over and over, creating a purple outline of Nice in the reddened flesh. She slumped in his lap, sobbing but accepting as he took a couple more shots, just to make sure it would last. Then he let her slide to the floor, and kneel with her eyes on his boots.

After a few minutes, she collected herself and looked up at him. “Thank you, Santa.”

“You’re welcome, young lady. Now, which list will you be on next year?”

“With that paddle, Santa, I think I’ll try and make the top of Both lists.”

He laughed and scooped her up into a hug and a deep kiss.

Merry Christmas, Happy Yule and whatever other holidays you may celebrate, may they be filled with love, laughter and kinkiness.

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Birthday Wishes

July 21st, 2011

So, this extra post is inspired by a several things. One, it’s my birthday on Sunday. Two, toy was giving me a hard time about not asking for things I want (for my birthday). And three, he made a comment the other day that a lot of our play has been about things that he likes(it’s awesome and fortunate, that our kinks match up so well), and due to various things over the last week, he’s curious to try some of the stuff that I like. Thus the straitjacket on Monday. So, without further ado, here’s a short list of scene ideas that came to mind when I thought about my upcoming birthday… while at work… and bored… in the order they came to me.

 

    1. Obviously, over the knee, barehanded birthday spankings. This one’s just a given. It’s tradition in all parts of life, to give birthday spankings. So, I want bare hand on bare ass and dear gods, please over the knee, but hey. Girl’s gotta have something special.
    2. Clothes cut off. I have had this in my head for a while now, but I never really thought too much on it. But when I was writing this list it was second to come to mind. I realized that Every kidnap fantasy I have, they cut off my clothes. This is one I’ve never indulged (it requires pre-planning or the sacrifice of cute clothes), but apparently is a huge turn-on for me.
    3. Suspension. It’s just all kinds of wonderful and always on my mind. He suspended me last week, quick and dirty, but oh so nice, and spacy. Lovely. So, I think this wish has been nicely fulfilled.
    4. Sex. Oral. Masturbation. Well, duh, it’s fun. (I’ll get a little more creative further down the page.)
    5. Intense rope scene. You know the kind. Tied up tight, rope after rope, losing freedom bit by bit. Digging in, dropping down, nothing but you, him and the rope. Eeling optional. The kind of eeling that when you get something free, he just ties it down tighter. And you’re both exhausted by the time the last rope is removed.
    6. Electric oral. I’ve been curious about this for ages. Since the first time he mentioned it. In that kind of terrified, but oh so curious kind of way.
    7. TENS masturbation. I want to find the right places. I’ve played with TENS units on various occasions in various ways, but I’ve never found The Spots. Yeah, we’ve turned me all tingly and what not, but I hear stories of more and better. Of getting it to cross the clit. Of getting it to cause orgasms. So very curious.
    8. Vibrator orgasms until collapse. Writing this made me laugh, then blush. There’s nothing like a Hitachi going on and on until you’ve had so many orgasms that you’re begging for it to stop. And then being forced to have more.
    9. Clothespin challenge. I wrote this at work with ?’s around it because most of my thoughts were not around painful scenes. The idea popped into my head, inspired by Monday, and spurred on by memories of a game show. How many clothes pins would it take? How many is too many? I think lying down I could take more than standing up. I have this problem with breathing. And then what about taking them off? One by one? Or a big long zipper?
    10. Sensual flogging or drumming. The rhythmic kind, meant for spacing out and massage. Not the pain of catharsis, not looking for tears or challenge. Just music and thumping and letting go.
    11. Full body massage. This goes on the same line. Just soft sensation, of touching and caring and love.
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Day Six – Weirdest Fantasy

January 6th, 2011

Describe your weirdest/most interesting sexual fantasy.

I had a lot of trouble with the words “weird” and “most interesting” while considering this question. Thought about a variety of angles and scenes and potential fantasies. Discarded some for not being all that weird after all. Discarded others for having been written about before. Wondered what would be “most” interesting of all the thoughts in my head. Then I remembered my Monday post. It seems these first few are building on each other.

My best friends and I used to look at each other randomly and pose the question “Jack or Spot?” In fact, a few weeks back, I got that in a text from one of them for no apparent reason. My answer was always Spot. Spot Conlon, head of the Brooklyn newsies, in Disney’s live action musical about the newsboys strike of 1899. Shorter than Jack, more wiry, but tougher and more feared than any other newsie in the city. And those eyes, clear and sharp.

So, my weirdest fantasy that still persists to this day? Being Spot Conlon’s girlfriend come submissive. I didn’t know the latter term when I was young, but all the fantasies hinted at that type of interaction. A look from him and I would immediately still, unable to move under his gaze. A pointed finger and I would stand where he directed. Any order, I would immediately follow. If I did something wrong, he’d put me over his knee right there on the docks in front of everyone. Spanking me by hand, with a belt or with his cane until I sobbed. As I grew up, the fantasies turned more sexual. He’d take me off the dock, to a private room in the back of a warehouse to put me over his knee, so he could toss me down and fuck me afterward. Even then, we tended to have an audience, a few newsies would follow to listen and make sure I was being punished.

Perhaps the weirdest part of the fantasy when I was younger, I’d incorporate Star Trek, the newsies either being a holodeck program, or a favor from Q, taking me back in time.

My 30 Days of Kink

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Day Three – Discovery

January 3rd, 2011

How did you discover you were kinky?

I liked strange things. I had odd fantasies. Vampires turned me on. The monster under my bed became a man who wanted to kidnap me or have sex with me. I liked the thought of someone having control over me with just a look. I fantasied about Spot Conlon taking me over his knee for starting a fight on the docks. But I didn’t know what to do with these thoughts, these feelings, as a teenager living at home with religious parents. I couldn’t very well look on the internet for information with my father sitting behind me. I did not have a boyfriend to experiment with in High School. With my friends, I talked about cute boys and kissing, and occasionally whipped cream, but we didn’t talk about our darker fantasies.

In college, my second boyfriend opened me up to accepting that I was kinky, and learning what that meant to me. He liked to bite my neck and play with knives. He had piercings and tattoos and was everything my parents would disapprove of.

So, how did I discover I was kinky? When he asked to bite my neck and I realized I was not alone, that these feelings and thoughts I had were not bad and wrong. That other people felt the same way, were turned on by the same things. Realized I wasn’t just weird and disgusting. I was kinky and it was okay. (I’m not a lumberjack, but that’s okay, too. Silly Monty Python in my head.)

My 30 Days of Kink

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Writing, Patience and Happiness

October 15th, 2010

I failed at the writing an extra post to make up for last week’s non-kinky post. I spend at least forty-five minutes every day, writing for him because I promised myself I would. Because I was having trouble communicating, and writing is the medium I feel most comfortable in, and I felt it would facilitate better communication over all. I think it does and I think it has, and so I keep my promise, to myself and to him, to write at least five hundred words every day. These writings are very personal, occasionally nonsensical, and include every day things and other people. Sometimes they are profound, sometimes they are flowery, and sometimes they are just as randomly off the wall as last week’s post on social networking. Some days I wish I could just get up in the morning and write all day, send him his words, send my other partners their own words, and write beautiful blog posts, and let the rest of the world just float by.

Complete Shibari: Land and Sky is quickly rising to be my most popular post. It only has thirty views and two posts to topple until it reaches number one. I really wish I’d done a far better job with that post. Maybe I’ll actually get the books during the holidays and work up a better review. It’s not terrible, especially as I’ve never written a book review in my life, but I feel it doesn’t do the works justice. I’m eagerly awaiting his third book(Stars) to be released, too.

So far this post isn’t any better than last week. I keep thinking if I just keep writing, it’ll get better, I’ll come up with something intelligent to say, some great topic to post on, something insightful at the very least. I was chatting with a friend of mine earlier, saying that “Jealousy, Neediness and all those other things you try to ignore” was probably not a coherent topic. Last week I was dealing with bits of jealousy popping up. But instead of dwelling on them and letting them rule me, I quickly recognized and squashed them. With logic and compersion. Jealousy is not something we can get rid of, it reminds us what is important, but controlling it instead of being controlled by it is the key.

This week, I’m dealing with neediness. I hate it when I feel needy. Of course, I need other people and need love and attention. Sometimes, though, I feel like the need consumes me and jumps up and down like a five year old shouting for attention. It doesn’t help that this is an incredibly inconvenient time for that to rear its head. Five year olds rarely care if the time is right or horribly, horribly wrong. So, logic and empathy to squash that for now. I have many ways to fill my needs, and patience will get me everything I need in plenty. As proof, I’ll end this post with a list of things from the last three weeks that made me happy:

Over the knee spankings

Oral sex wherever we happen to be

Sleeping in

Kneeling

Rope

Suspension

Sex

Simple goals

Achieving them

Boot blacking

Second chances

Plans

Acknowledgment

Service

Carrying and holding a drink in my open palm

Drumming with anything that comes to hand

The leatherman on my skin

Bruises

Seeing and helping with someone’s first suspension

Teaching and sharing the violet wands

Fantasies

Massage

Cuddling

Sleep

A phone call from far away

A latex skirt

A kiss on the forehead

Feeling protected

Latex panties

An unexpected spanking

A relaxing evening

A good discussion

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