Suburban BDSM

Protected: What happened to my plan?
April 14, 2014, 12:54 pm
Filed under: the mundane

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October 3, 2012, 12:52 pm
Filed under: the mundane, The nature of Kink

Met with a Dom yesterday, and I think this time it might be just right. No bs, no posing and no premature gestures of any kind. And he seems like a real nice guy too.

I simply can’t wait to our first real meeting.. (what? don’t like the session word). In a sense, this relationship can be more pure than any I could have with my husband, since I can be his sub all the time, and never have to be wife or mother.. friend and what not too. Can’t believe how excited I am, and I don’t think I’ve realised how much I’ve missed that place.. of surrender and reliance on a Master/Dom. Something more real than the casual “scene” followed by small talk and tv.

I was nervous like crazy yesterday, but now I just feel grounded and excited. There where moments, where I just wished it could have been hubbie, and not anyone else. Still remember the feeling of melting in to his eyes, completely at his mercy, feeling him engulf all that is me, knowing I would obey his every whim without hesitation.. But it can’t be a half hearted thing, and I still have hubbie the father and husband.. Maybe one day he’ll really feel the motivation again, and until then, this could be fantastic.

Subspace in the sense I’ve learned about it is btw different than what I’ve heard americans use it. They talked about it as the endorphin rush you get after a certain amount of pain. To me (and others, I’m sure) it’s a place of surrender, where you have given up your will and sense of autonomy to someone else.. Can be deeper or not so much so, but it’s definitely an altered state of consciousness.. A side of me that is always in me, but does not often come out to play any more.
Felt a little bad after I got a message from a fellow kinkster about the last post. I did like everyone I met at the play party. There wasn’t a single unpleasant person there, and everyone was friendly and nice. And as far as parties goes, it certainly wasn’t bad (at least I got to ogle some ass)

After the candle scene, I’ve had the most horrid marks. Some are just red and sore, but others have formed blisters, and the skin is peeling. I know I should have checked that the candles where of the right kind. It’s so stupid. And darn ugly too. Too bad I’ll be all marked for the first time with my potential something..


sharing the vibe
September 20, 2012, 5:47 pm
Filed under: the mundane

Just felt like spreading my depression a little.. smearing it all over cyber space. Nobody wants to beat me, tie me up and abuse me!

Sad, I know. And not entirely true.. have found people willing to do it, just none I can relate to. Even the most promising  cyber friends seem to just disappear. Maybe I should start getting their numbers, so I can stalk them into beating me at least once..

Am having a lazy day with baby at home. He’s so tired after a visit with some bigger kids yesterday, that all he wants to do is hang, read, play ipad and watch shaun the sheep.. I can relate, so I’m letting him. Napping is apparently not something he feels he ought to do any more. Ok in a sense, because in principle, that should mean  more play time for hubby and I.

In real life it means more time to watch game of thrones. Have suggested a trip to the naughty room in the basement several time, and the time to shut up has come. Hubby doesn’t wanna.. He just wants cuddly sex on the sofa, and snuggles while we watch tv. Maybe another sub gal might wake him up? Not that I’m likely to find any..

Am really frustrated at the moment, can’t stop thinking about BDSM constantly, and it’s distracting and tastes more and more of bitterness. Hopefully it will soon be transferred to something more constructive..

Like writing about fictional peoples great sex life.. *sigh*

Or maybe I’ll write a paper on how stupid all men are, because they don’t want to beat me, tie me up and abuse me..

August 1, 2012, 9:22 pm
Filed under: the mundane | Tags: , , ,

He walks briskly through the door, to find his wife running too greet him. She’s wearing a floaty skirt, and a cute, but modest top, underneath a frilly apron.
Her eyes light up with joy, as her man enters, and she looks up at him shyly.

Wordlessly, he dips his wife into a swooping kiss. When he releases her, she is unsteady on her feet, and her cheeks are even peachier than usual.

“Hallo half pint” he greets her, affection and humor glimering in his dark eyes,
He enters their home, only to find there are toys scattered on the floor, and a snack still uncleared from the table in the kitchen.
His eyes darken as he turns to her.
“where’s Henry?” he asks, his voice deep and demanding.
She senses his displeasure, and hurries to her the floor to tidy, as she answer him meekly
“at Ron’s, he has a playdate”

She looks up at him, blushingly, as she fill the toy tray with errant match box cars, he says nothing, but simply opens and takes off his thick leather belt, looping it up, and holding it at the buckle end. He rolls up his shirt sleeves, anger showing clearly on his face, as well as in his determined gestures
“what did I tell you yesterday, when I came home?” he asks her bruskly

“to always make sure the house is tidy and clean when you come home” she answers, fear evident on her face, a block half way to the tray still frozen in her hand, that she is now unable to move.

“that’s right dear” he answers, not breaking their gaze “and what is this on the floor and the table” he qustions, holding up a threatening eyebrow
“it’s a mess, sir” she sighs nervously, and stands up slowly, dropping the toy.

Gruffly, he grabs her arm, and leeds her to the living room. He places one leg on the coffee table, and hoists her over his knee, tummy down. His left arm holds her both down, and steadies her, as his right hand quickly lifts up her skirt, and peels down her pink lace panties. Wihout hesitating, he swings back his arm as far as it goes, and swings the belt full force down over her seat, the belt swooshing then craking deafeningly. She goes frantic, as she tries to pull free, pleading and sobbing incoherently, as he lets the her have it as rapidly as he can deliver the strokes. He only pauses after a few minutes onslaught, to lecture her sternly and angriely
“I will not have you disgrace me like this, you will learn this lesson. From now on the house will be SPOTLESS when I get home. Do you understand?”

Frantically she nods, her face a mess of tears and hair clinging to her. Through the sobbing, she manages to studder a meek “yes sir!”

“YOU WILL OBEY ME NOW WOMAN” he underlines each word with a well meassured stroke of the belt, then he settles into a brutal rhytm, letting the pain have time to register between each mercyless slap. She stops struggling, and simply yells out in pain at each impact.

When he finally stops, her pale butt is a swollen mess of red and burgundy stripes. Turning her over, he takes her shaking, sobbing body into his arms. He holds her gently, while he strokes her hair and whisper a soothing “hush, hush, it’s all over” as she sobs into his chest.

After a long while, her sobbing subsides, and he gently dissengages himself, looking down at her wet and swollen face

“Have you learned your lesson, dear?” he asks her gently
“yes, sir” she answers hoarsly, as she looks blushingly at her hands

“then lean over the side of the sofa, and hold open your butt for me, dear”


No.. That’s not it.. More like hubbie has to step over tons of junk, to get into a house with a bussy wife, and a happily or screaming toddler.. Not much fantasy about any of it.. But a girl can dream., one day maybe we’ll get back to 24/7.. Until then we’re as vanilla as vanilla can be.. At least while our son is awake

Housewifes are also a lot less interesting than I thought they would be. Not all, of course, but a lot seem to be just going through the motions with almost no reflection on anything much. Maybe that’s true for most people, I suppose the relationships you have with people at work always have different levels to them as well. Anyhoo, have a (hopefully short termed) meaningless small talk phobia. I just can’t deal with another conversation on how old the kids are, whether they have all their teeth, if they can say mummy or no.

Sometimes it’s what gets me through the day, meeting friendly new parents and their nice kids. But at the moment it just bugs me that americans never talk about: sex and body functions, politics, philosophy and religion. I now I’m biased by only meeting small town women and a few men, but well.. That’s my life right now. It’s such a shame that we don’t have any perv friends here. Miss talking to twisted people

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