Our second life

Hi everybody!  Thanks for the good wishes from everyone who responded to Richard’s last post.  And thanks to poor Megan, who ended up minding the fort for us during our extended absence.  Since she was the last one to write a post, all of the questions about “where are you?’ ended up in her email inbox.

The past year was very challenging for me, and I don’t know how I would have survived it (truly) without Richard’s love and caretaking.  As he said though, it has slowed down our BDSM play because I was in so much pain that it didn’t seem like much fun to inflict even more.

But I don’t want to warble on about how boring our last year was.  It was bad enough to live through it; I don’t want to have to write about it too.  And I’m quite sure, trust me, that it would not be a great read.  Instead, I want to talk to you about what we have been exploring lately.

A few weeks ago, I went on Second Life (aka SL) for a work-related activity.  Both Richard and I had explored SL a small amount before.  Megan talked me into going on because she had met many friends and had a lot of fun there.  It hadn’t really clicked for us, though.

For the two people on the planet that don’t know about SL, here is a brief description.  It is probably the most popular Multi-User Virtual Environment (MUVE), which is exactly what it sounds like.  When you go to SL, you are given an avatar, a 3D computer “person”, that you can move through the virtual environment that is SL via your keyboard controls.  (I am sure there are much better descriptions of SL on Wikipedia or something.)

My first few hours on SL were probably similar to that of many people.  In fact I read that SL is working on its “first hour experience”.  Which is at present…weird.  My first hour I did a lot of embarrassing things.  I ran into a lot of walls and slammed up against a lot of ceilings, as I learned how to control my avatar (this wasn’t such a problem for Richard, who has played a lot of computer games).  I accidentally took off all my clothes in a PG kind of area.  I asked a large group of people if I could go to the bathroom, because I thought I was sending a private message to Richard (yes *sigh* I still have to get permission to use the bathroom).

I also thought my assigned avatar was really, really ugly.  So then I spent a lot of time shopping for a new “skin” and “shape” and clothing.  Which was boring.  I’m not a big shopper.  In fact Richard ended up doing a lot of that for my avatar.

Which brings me to why I am still on SL (as amy247 Waverider – come find me if you are on!).  Richard loves it, and that is making me start to love it.  Why hadn’t I realized the potential of SL before?  Let me count the ways.  First, we have been hungering for community (the focus of many discussions, and still no good answers).  SL is one way of developing a community of like people.

Second, Richard is so, so visual and in fact he has helped me realize that I am also a very visual person.  SL is in some ways like fetlife or bondage.com (where we met), but with a visual element.   Everyone on SL is gorgeous.  Well, except for the people who don’t want to be gorgeous, like zombies.

Finally, SL is kink friendly.  SL is generally a more open and accepting place than our real life (RL, in SL-speak).  I told Richard that it reminds me of Burning Man.

Here are the cool things we have done over the last few weeks.  We went to a lot of clubs.  It was surprisingly romantic to slow dance together and surprisingly sexy to have sex on the floor while other people watched. But I ended up spending a lot of time dealing with IMs from newbies.  In spite of being WITH Richard, and my profile (you can click on a person’s avatar to get info about them) saying that I am owned by him.  I guess it’s a low cost strategy to IM whatever female avatars are in the room and say such gems as “Amy u mak me hornie.”

Then Richard discovered the camera function on SL. Hehe.  Guess what Richard did for the next few days?  He went to every BDSM club and rough sex club and strip club in SL, I think.  And he took (and continues to take) some terrific pictures.

So then he decided to open his own gallery.  It was very cool; he had a realtor take him around and he bought some land.  Then he learned to build and he built a gorgeous gallery from the ground up.  It’s called Predator (appropriate name, huh?).  Come visit.  It’s got RL pics of me (I think most were first posted on this blog), and some really amazing SL pics.

When Richard was doing a search on the word “predator”, he found a simulation that we have ended up spending a lot of time on.  It seems made to order for Richard, honestly.  It’s called Kingdom of Sand, and it is basically a bunch of predators (slavers, Bedouin, Magi) that chase around prey (slaves) and also fight with each other.

Richard loves it.  He became a slaver right away.  I thought it was telling that the outfit he had chosen for his avatar when we first got to SL was almost identical to what the other slavers wore (a kilt, no shirt and tattoos).  He says that chasing prey is exhilarating; fighting feels more like something you just have to do, and once he’s caught the prey it’s not as interesting.

I’m feeling a little intimidated by it, although I really enjoy the role-playing.  I’m kind of scared of all the predators.  And I’m struggling with jealousy when Richard catches another slave girl.  I feel like such a dork; it’s not real, I know he loves only me, he doesn’t get jealous when the slavers ogle me, blablabla.  But I had a dream two nights ago.  My wedding ring, which is antique platinum filigree with little diamonds, broke into tiny pieces and fell into the sand I was walking over.  I tried to pick up the pieces, but they kept sifting through my fingers and falling into crevices in the sand.

Richard hasn’t chased anyone since I told him about my insecurity.  He says that he is focused on making tattoos (and he just made some awesome nipple rings for my avatar!).  But I know it’s because he is worried about me.  I feel so ashamed of my response and part of me wishes I hadn’t told him (although I tell him everything, and Richard says I’m not allowed to keep things like that to myself).

I think SL could be a great place for us to explore things that are difficult to explore in RL – eg I already have a couple of tattoos and now piercings, and Richard could explore sharing me (a big part of his sexuality and a big scary for me in RL).  But if I can’t put on my big girl panties and be clear on the distinction between RL and SL, then none of that can happen. I would love to get some advice on this from those of you more experienced in SL.

OK, gotta go feed my family and get some work done.

Salaam and safe paths, : )

amy 

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My banana peel sense of humor

amy_falling_047.jpg

Amy, Just Before Plummeting Into the Sea

Richard and I are sitting on the couch, watching our dogs chase around bones that are a little too big for their mouths.  The smallest dog is also the most aggressive, and he gets the bone in his mouth, jumps up onto the couch where he can protect it, and then watches it fall back onto the floor, over and over again.  Finally, he decides to lean his paws against the couch while he flings the bone into a corner and hops up after it.  He growls at the other dogs, who are ignoring him as they wrestle their own over-sized bones.   He settles in, pulls the bone next to him, and stares in dismay as it falls to the ground yet again. Richard and I howl with laughter, and I am once again horrified by my banana peel sense of humor.

Second Life is a glorious place for someone with my sense of humor.  My first few hours online, as I said in my last post, were filled with slamming into walls and accidentally removing my clothes.  Richard even contributed by teleporting me INSIDE the wall of a clothing store.  I couldn’t get out until he sent me a teleport.  I am a little bit claustrophic and really think I would die if I tried some of that mummification kink stuff (where you are sealed inside something with only a breathing tube – ack!)

One of our readers (Chantal/Jorja Kane) gave me a couple of hours of bliss yesterday, when she visited Kingdom of Sand and I showed her around.  We were practicing running and jumping so that if she decided she wanted to be a prey/slave there, she wouldn’t get caught within the first nano-second.  Although after two hours of my tutelage I’m not sure she is any safer.

Chantal was a natural at jumping.  I told her that I would teach her how to jump into the castle – a skill that took me several hours to learn – and she had nailed it within minutes.  The first few times she flew into the air but then landed with her face against the castle wall.   She said “How perfect.  I’m standing here with my nose against the wall.”  I thought maybe we should go to one of the naughty schoolgirl sims and get spanked instead.  But she wanted to persist.

I jumped to the parapet by way of demonstration, and called down to her through the crenellations.  She came sailing past me and landed in the courtyard below.  Getting up to the parapet was harder for her; she went sailing by me again, back *out* of the castle.  Then back in.  Then she decided to walk up the stairs, but she kept falling off the stairs.

I suggested that we run along the castle walls so she could work on her precision.   I ran ahead of her and within a few seconds I couldn’t see her behind me (I was using the camera function).  I saw her mumbling in the chat box and peered over the edge of the parapet.  She was down below, and eventually managed to climb back up, and we began again.  And she promptly fell off again, cursing the castle, cursing Second Life, probably cursing me under her breath.  I was gasping for breath from laughing.

I told her to lean toward her right, because the castle wall would stop her from falling off that way, while to the left was an immediate drop into the interior of the castle.  I suggested that she run in front of me and I would watch out for her.

She began running and slammed into the wall on the right, bounced off it and slammed into a well-placed tower on the left, slammed again into the rightside wall, and then hurtled to the courtyard.  At this point I was sobbing with laughter.

There was silence for a moment and then her IM: “You’re laughing at me up there, aren’t you?”, which sent me off into another gale of laughter.  I think I scared the dogs at home.  She continued to mumble about slavers not *wanting* to catch her with her broken bones and bruises.  We gave up a bit later and I took her into the desert sands to do some easier running and jumping. I am sure she will run circles around me within days.

Richard has managed to document one of my many falls, as you can see in the picture above.  He has me wear a collar while in Second Life, and with the collar on he can move me around by writing commands in local chat.  Things like “tower” or “bracelets”, which require me to kneel.  Even more embarrassing, “assup”, which is at it sounds, and others like it.

He often has me “follow” him, and on a few occasions has done the follow! or come! command while far enough away from me that the collar pulls me through a wall or over a bridge.  The bridge in the picture has caused me humiliation a few times.  After I fell in the water, Richard called “come!” from the boat and the stupid collar kept bashing my head against the hull of the boat.  I finally choked out a request for him to stop, and pulled my beaten and bedraggled body up onto shore and climbed onto the boat of my own volition.

And then!  He proceeded to whip me there, which I think was quite unfair.

xoamy 

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Thoughts from Anais Nin

“I do not want to be the leader. I refuse to be the leader. I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness. I want a man lying over me, always over me. His will, his pleasure, his desire, his life, his work, his sexuality the touchstone, the command, my pivot. I don’t mind working, holding my ground intellectually, artistically; but as a woman, oh, God, as a woman I want to be dominated. I don’t mind being told to stand on my own feet, not to cling, be all that I am capable of doing, but I am going to be pursued, fucked, possessed by the will of a male at his time, his bidding.”

I love Anais Nin.  The last few days have been very challenging for me.  Richard has been stretching me, helping me grow, and it can be hard.  Here are some quotes that are helping me stay focused.

“Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.”

“We don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are.”

And for my new best guy friend:  “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”

And for Megan, who I miss so much, and Chantal, who is helping me grow and making it fun:  “Each friend represents a world in us, a world not possibly born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.”

xoamy 

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Not allowed to cum

As long time readers of our blog know, I am not a fan of orgasm denial.  Richard and I had a somewhat heated exchange about this (documented in the blog) early in our relationship.  My feeling was I’d spent most of my life in unsatisfying vanilla relationships experiencing plenty of orgasm denial.  Now I was finally in a thrilling, deeply satisfying D/s relationship and I wanted to cum as much as was humanly possible.

Richard’s attitude can best be summed up as “I have many tools with which I dominate you.  Some are pleasurable, some are painful.  I will use the ones I choose, when I choose.” <insert evil laughter here>

Happily, Richard’s inner hedonist usually wins out over his inner denier-of-good-stuff-to-Amy.

Furthermore.  Richard told me when we were first together that he had no interest in micro-managing.  He said why would he want to spend time choosing what I wear or reading all my emails or saying what I could or couldn’t eat?  Who was the Dom, then, if he was always running around seeing to me?

One tiny thing that was different than that, of course, was my needing to ask permission to go to the bathroom.  And I pretty much have to ask whenever I want to leave the room or do something different.  I think of it as asking permission to change my status.  : )

Well.  Here is one thing I know about Richard.  He changes his mind.  (For example, before we met in person, he told me he would not ask to see me topless on webcam until we had met in person.  Awesome, I was a webcam virgin and terrified at the thought.  Within a couple of weeks he had my shirt off.  Then pants off.  Then (I am so embarrassed to admit this) he made me masturbate for him on webcam…almost nightly for a while.  Now you know why we moved in together so quickly; I was going to die from humiliation if he didn’t.)

Richard has, over the last few months, begun to enjoy micro-managing me.  The first thing began as a joke.  Richard doesn’t like mayonnaise AT ALL, I love mayonnaise.  One day when I was teasing him, suggesting I put some mayonnaise on his sandwich he said “No.  I don’t want mayonnaise on my sandwich.  And you don’t get it either.”

I stopped, startled, and looked over at him.  He grinned and was silent for a second, obviously savoring my surprise.  “In fact, you can’t have mayonnaise anymore.  You are banned from mayonnaise.”  He nodded at the jar, “You might as well throw that out, since the kids don’t eat mayonnaise either.”

I started to argue with him but his eyebrows shot up.  Never a good sign.  His voice got silky.  “Maybe you don’t want butter either?  Would that make you happier, little girl?”  So I grimaced and said “No sir.  No mayonnaise is fine.  Thank you.”

In the past, he’s tried out banning things but then Richard the hedonist says “Noooo that’s interfering with MY pleasure”.  Things like wine, or ice cream, or (shudder) orgasms.  Of course, he could go ahead and enjoy wine or ice cream without me, and that would be even sexier, but he doesn’t seem to like that.

Last week he banned sodas.  *sob*  I am addicted to Diet Pepsi.  But I think it has been hurting my stomach and possibly making me more susceptible to migraines.  I’ve been trying to cut down, but it doesn’t work.  So he up and decided to ban them.  Hooboy this has been hard.  And this time he hasn’t stopped ordering Diet Pepsi himself.  He’ll sometimes let me have a sip (sometimes not) and oooooh the bliss!  Nectar of the gods!  He says he wants me to feel every sip of soda is a gift from him to me.  Which it definitely feels like, just like the very occasional sandwich with mayo that I am allowed.

What does this have to do with not being allowed to cum?  Well, he’s been enjoying this banning business and I guess he worked up to banning orgasm.  The other day he was fucking me sooooo deliciously.  After a very, very long time he got worn out and he stopped and said “I’m too tired to cum.  Here, let’s make you cum, little girl.”  I started to fuss, as I often do when he tells me what to do.  “I’m too tired to cum.  I probably can’t.”  Usually he says “Come on.  Do it.  Don’t be sassy.”  And I fuss a little more, but eventually I get around to cumming.

Not this time.  He said “Fine.  You won’t cum.   In fact, you aren’t going to cum today at all.  And we’ll see about whether you can cum tomorrow.”  Of course that made me desperate to cum, but he was adamant.  This was especially distressing to me, because lately I have been wanting/needing (which is it? I don’t know) to cum a LOT.

So now it has been like three days and I am humming like a tightly strung bow.  I may spontaneously combust if he doesn’t let me cum soon.  Hopefully he will read this and say “Aww, poor little girl.  Let’s make you cum.”  And not “Oh I LIKE this.  Let’s do it some more.”

Pray for me, dear readers.

xoAmy 

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Community

Community

Amy and I couldn’t find a community of like minded people where we live, so we decided to experiment with Second Life to see what we could find there.  Megan seemed to have had very satisfactory experiences in her time there, so I thought that it might work for us as well.

What I had in mind was a few D/s minded people – maybe a bit kinky, maybe not, who knows.  Hopefully some people interested in photography, ideally passionate about it.  Building a community takes time, and my initial building in Second Life was an art gallery, where I could display photography and other works of art.

A peaceful, sedate appreciation what that world has to offer.

An idea whose time has probably come, but not  for me.  As our community began to grow, I could quickly see that a quiet art gallery wasn’t going to be a compelling place to entertain the people we were getting to know.

So I smashed it.

Late one night while Amy slept I went in and  tore everything down.  Everything.  Every single object of the 900+ I’d placed.

Such a pretty place, but not one conducive to the kind of community I wanted to be a member of.

So what have we now?

Check out the picture – That’s Amy and me pole dancing in the distance, with a shapeshifter werewolf, a vampire, and a mermaid around a fire pit while Gloria Gaynor belts out”I Will Survive” on the video screen.

Our kind of people.

Who knew? 

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Jorja on Second Life

My time on Second Life with Amy and Richard has been thrilling to say the least. There are many situations that I have been put in–some fun, some, sexy, some scary, etc.

In one of her posts, Amy spoke of a wonderful place called Kingdom of Sand. To sum it up as fast as I can, KOS is a simulation role play area set in ancient Arabian times. You have a choice between being a slaver, a slave, or a knight. There are other roles in KOS, (Like undead, magi, citizen, djinn, bedouin) but the three I first listed are the ones I spend most of my role playing around with.

Amy and I are both slaves/prey in KOS. My first week was spent learning how to run, jump and hide from slavers. Fun times, I tell you, fun times. Being able to run around the sand without fear of being caught gave me a chance to look around without having to constantly look over my shoulder.

My first day as an official prey was exciting. I ran around and was chased, but was not captured for a few hours. Yay! I was pretty proud of myself.

Then an undead started to stalk me!!  Let me tell you about undeads. They are creatures who do horrific things to the prey that they catch. Like eat them! Or cut up their bodies and put them in jars! I’m not kidding, I’ve spoken to a poor slave who had it happen to her.

Being captured by an undead was not on my list of things to do. It was out of my hands when one started to hunt me, though.

I first noticed my stalker after he jumped from a roof top and trapped me in a tower. He was so scary. His face was rotting off, he was bleeding from his his nose and eyes. He had green stuff on his skin, which I assume was gangrene. He scared me. I screamed aloud and tried to get away, but he was blocking the only entrance. I kept jumping up over and over again to see if I could make it over him, but I kept hitting my head on the damn tower roof.

When I could not find a way around him, I begged Amy to save me. I typed in a private message to her “TP ME!!!!!!!” So she did. Yeah, we cheated, but you would have cheated if you were an innocent KOS virgin and someone who wanted to stuff you into a jar had you trapped in a tower!  (FYI, ‘TP’ means teleport. One SL user can TP another SL to thier location at anytime)

Whew. So once I was back in safe spot I rested for a bit and then decided to make a run for it. I really am a glutton for punishment. I ran toward the cafe which is a dance hall for slaves to entertain slavers. On my map I could see several people chasing me. I didn’t know who they were, but it made my blood pump and my skin sweat. I made it to the cafe, yay! A safe spot where I cannot be captured.

Right after I arrived I received an private message from Amy, she was laughing. Turns out that Richard was in the cafe when I arrived, and he told her that I flew through the air, and then smashed into a wall. Hehe. That happens to me pretty often. It’s a wonder I stayed free as long as I did, because my sense of direction and control of my avi was not too good at that time. As a matter of fact, it’s still not good.

I was eventually captured by that undead. Holy hell, I was scared! The first thing I said to him was “Please don’t eat me.” He told me to shut up or else he would. So I shut up.

On our way to wherever he was taking me we ran into a pretty lady knight. Knights are members of KOS who can fight for or pay for the release of a slave. She offered to pay the undead 100 dinar for me, and he accepted. Whew!

All in all, my capture with the undead was rather anti-climatic. Once we ran into the knight and I saw that the undead was going to sell me to her I knew it was all going to be alright, the thrill of the unknown was taken away.

My next capture was not even a real one. I was standing in a safe zone and was bumped by a slaver. Even though she did not bump me out of the safe zone, a glitch in the KOS system allowed her to capture me. By the way, I didn’t even notice her running into me because I was busy chatting with Amy–as usual, LOL.  Since she did not catch me outside of a safe zone she said she would let free me, sell me, auction me off, whatever I wanted. I was excited to role play so I asked her to keep me for a bit.

After we got to camp, my lady owner and Richard started to plot. They told us to follow them to the ocean shore. Once there we were instructed to take off our clothes and  get into the water. After doing what we were forced to bathe each other. *Wicked grin*
Amy washed my hair and back. Sooo nice. However, before I had the chance to wash her we were told to get out of the water and go back to camp. It turns out that a couple of undeads were watching from a hill. Ewwww.  Once back at camp I told told to braid Amy’s hair. Wheee, fun!

After a few days my Mistress decided to sell me. To Richard!  It took me less than 24 hours to disobey him. Eeek.

We were dancing at the cafe, and Richard said that he had to go somewhere. He said to keep dancing. After a while I left the cafe and went to the market with Amy. She was showing someone how to get there, and I didn’t want her to walk alone with a stranger. Um, we should not have left the cafe.

Master was not pleased.

Richard isn’t someone you disobey.

Now, Amy and I argue over who is responsible for the whipping we both got. I take responsibility because I for sure knew about not being able to leave the cafe, whereas she was not aware of those instructions. Amy feels responsible because she is the senior slave, so it is her job to make sure I follow the rules.

Whatever the case, we both had to remove our clothes and we each received way more than the 3 strikes of the whip we were told we were getting. He really is a bad man! We had to count each strike of the whip while the other was being punished.

Amy and I cried and held each other as best as we could, but we were each in separate cages, so all of our holding had to be done through the bars. The worst thing about the whipping was the sound! Richards whip is equipped with a horrifying cracking/snapping sound every time he whipped it at us. I can still hear it!

It’s sooooo fun being chain sisters with Amy. Most of the time we get to the dance and play. She is sneaky, though. One time she totally ratted on me! What happened was that I was in the mood to be frisky, so I pushed her into a tent and fondled her. Nothing major. She has an incredible body, I wanted to play with it is all.
Well, she tattled on me! She says to Richard, “Master, Jorja was mean to me, blah blah blah.” Trying to get me into trouble. The wench!

I thought I was going to be in trouble, but Master turned the tables on us and asked me if I liked being mean. I admitted it was fun to be mean, but I wasn’t really being mean. I just wanted to touch my pretty sister slave.

I was then told I could give Amy a back rub. *grin*

Not that she deserved to have a back rub after trying to get me into trouble with Master, but hey, any excuse to touch a half naked Amy is never something I’m going to turn down.  We were told to go into one of the tents while I gave Amy her massage. Once we were in there she was trying to wrestle with me instead of letting me massage her. Master has eyes and ears everywhere, and told her that I would be instructed to bite her if she didn’t settle down. I forget what she did or said, but the next words out of Masters mouth were “Jorja, bite Amy’s nipple.”

So I did. Twice.

She then accused me of biting so hard they would fall off. 

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Orgasms and Megan

Long-time readers of our blog know that my friend Megan, who had a huge impact on my blossoming as a sexual submissive, now lives far away from us with her wonderful, evil Master.  I have missed her like crazy and have been counting the minutes until we saw her this summer. We just left after spending four nights with her and her Master.  I was in seventh heaven and, as usual when I am with Megan, learned a lot about being submissive and being myself.

She and Robert (her Master) pulled up to where we were staying and I ran over to their car.  Robert got out first and I said “hi!” and hopped up and down waiting for Megan to get out.  Then I realized she was waiting for Robert to let her out of the car, like Richard makes me do.  So I gave Robert a big hug and waited for him to go around and open the door for Megan.

The first thing I saw was a tanned foot in a 3-inch beaded sandal, with red toenails and toe rings.  Followed by a long, shapely, tanned leg.  And then another.  Then a tall, gorgeous blond with a tiny little dress unfolded from the car.  Perfectly styled hair, knockout make-up, and of course the trademark killer body.  Wow!

Megan has always been jaw-droppingly gorgeous.   But she had entered a new realm of beautiful.  And the most beautiful thing was her face, because she was glowing.  Just radiating love, happiness, self-confidence.

I don’t think I stopped hugging her for an hour.

We stayed up talking for hours.  I can’t tell you how thrilled I am about her Master (I keep starting to say “new Master” but of course he’s not; they’ve been together for over a year now.)  I told Megan that of course I would always care about whoever her partner was, but Robert is someone I would want to be friends with even if they weren’t together.  He is really smart and has a terrific sense of humor – my two top priorities for friends and partners.  He also makes it really clear how much he loves my Megan.  He is very attentive and affectionate; he does something that I think must be very hard to do, which is to treat her with complete respect but also demand her utter obedience.

At one point I mentioned that I had bought Richard a whip for Father’s Day (what was I thinking?) and I asked if he knew how to use a whip.  He said “No, I don’t.  But that makes it hotter, doesn’t it?”  !!!!  That could have come out of Richard’s mouth!  I was almost too startled by the similarity to laugh.

I can’t remember whether it was that night or the next morning that Megan told us that she hadn’t had an orgasm in a year.  I stared at her with my mouth open, I actually thought she was teasing me at first (she does that a LOT).  When I wrote about my three day orgasm denial, which I thought might kill me, I had almost written about a conversation Megan and I had the year before.  We had agreed that orgasm denial was completely NotHot, and we couldn’t imagine any woman ever agreeing to it.  It was a hard limit for her.

So.  What the heck?  How could my sweet little cumslut friend not have cum for an entire year, and be sitting across from me looking like the cat that ate the canary?  How could she be glowing with happiness and satisfaction after a year of being deprived of orgasms?

Richard’s response was worrying.  He thought this was just awesome.  He was grinning from ear to ear as we listened to her story.  At first, Robert enjoyed making her cum, over and over and over.  Which was sexy and exhausting.  Then he started telling her she could only cum if she did before he did.  Which she managed to do, until he started messing with her, stopping just as she was on the edge and then orgasming quickly himself before she could regroup.  I remember her telling me about this at the time, and how hot and desperate and submissive it made her feel.  THEN he told her that it was making her too focused on her own pleasure and not enough on his, so…no more orgasms for her.  Period.

Megan said “I love it!  This is really perfect for me.  I am getting fucked deliciously all the time, and I’m not worrying about whether or not I will cum, because I won’t.”  She added with a grin “But maybe he’s just brainwashed me into thinking this.”  She was tucked under his arm as she told the story and at this point she looked up at him and he looked at her and there was so much love between them, I’m tearing up right now thinking about it.

Of course we talked about this on and off over the next few days, in between talking about her job and our kids and her and Robert’s future plans and more kinky stuff, like the strip clubs they go to (more on this in a later post; we visited one with them and it was a blast) and their evolving polyamorous relationship, and Second Life and on-line role-play, and on being D/s while dealing with migraines, and on and on (more on all of these later too).

When I talked to Richard about Megan’s orgasm-free existence, he said “The right tools for the right job.”  He said it made perfect sense to him that this was exactly the right thing for Megan and he pointed out that you could see it by the results.  Robert says he’s not a details-oriented Dom, he’s a results-oriented Dom.  Another way that he is like Richard.  (I told Megan they are even boring in the same way; they both like Civil War history. *yawn* I got a swat for saying that and Megan got bitten hard when she told Robert I said that.  I said “You didn’t tell him I said it, did you??” And she said, “Yes, and it was worth it!”)

This post is getting way too long, so I will write more later.  I just want to add that, in case it’s not obvious, Robert made this decision carefully and thoughtfully and they are both very happy with it.  Robert says the next step is to make her FAKE orgasms when he is fucking her.  Who could even think of anything that evil?  Well, besides Richard I mean. 

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Amy in the Morning Light

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I don’t think I’ve ever posted the uncropped version of this picture here, so I figured I’d add it. 

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Morning

I woke up early, and Amy snuggled in close under the duvet; the morning sharp and cold.  She slipped both hands around my cock, murmured something, and drifted back to sleep.

We lay like this for a half hour, maybe an hour.  I enjoyed the feeling of my erection between her cool palms, and did not sleep.

I planned to cum in her.  No hurry, plenty of time.

I flipped her off me onto her side, facing away from me.  I placed one hand between her shoulder blades, and pushed, and with the other reached between her thighs to seize her pussy, and pulled her hips toward me.  A moment’s effort had her bent double, vulnerable.  I opened her ass checks, and reached in to divide her pussy lips, just enough to wedge my cock’s head at her opening.

Then I started to thrust.

I won’t call it pain, but I felt discomfort.  The guys will know what I’m talking about, that delicious twinge as  you batter at her unprepared cunt, your cock buckling ever so slightly in the middle with each thrust, a quick radiation of pain.  It passes as you keep thrusting between her still awakening labia, and you force your way into her pussy with brute strength.

She isn’t very moist, not yet.  Barely even protesting, as she still struggles with sleep.  But a steady rhythmn will loosen her, and moisten her thoroughly.

I usualy love playing with her body, making her squirm, fucking her.

But I’m not interested in fucking Amy.  Not this time.

I just want to cum.

I hold her hips and fuck her, thrusting.  I know her tits are bouncing with each thrust, and I ignore them briefly, a luxurious decadence to neglect such fine tits.

I ignore them because Amy isn’t going to cum.  I don’t want her too.  If I don’t play with her nipples, she doesn’t cum.

For a moment, I do amuse myself by grabbing one breast, feeling the delicious softness in my hand, with the ever present hardness of her nipple against my palm.  I become distracted by the thought of leaving her frustrated, and slip my hand down to tease her clit, but I abandon that idea after a few thrusts.

Truly, this was a distraction.  I didn’t give a fuck if she was frustrated or not.  I wanted to cum in her.

I fucked her swiftly, forcing her shoulders away from me.  At one point I covered her mouth, or so Amy told me after.

I ignored her perfect tits, shivering neglected as I held her hips again, driving deep.

A perfect sensation, a sharp cascade at the very point of me,  and I shuddered cum into her. 

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Wrong

I couldn’t find a collar for Amy that I liked, so I decided we didn’t need to put a lot of energy into it, since the collar was only a symbol.

But Amy found one that worked perfectly for us, and the other day I mentioned to her that I was very aware of when she had it on, and that I liked putting it on her, etc.

“Oh,” she responded.  “I thought you said you didn’t care about those things.”

I considered a moment, and then said “I guess I was wrong.”

“Oh” said Amy, tragically NOT considering for a moment.  “Which time?” 

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