Ooo, what’s that?

That, my fellow kinksters, is a set of Y-Style Beaded Clamps by Spartacus Enterprises.  Notice the clamps are tweezer clamps, which makes these great for just about anyone.

How’s it made?

These clamps are made of purple and black Indian beads and metal, with rubbery black tips on the three tweezer-like clamps.  There are three strands of beads threaded onto silver jewelry wire and connected with small key-rings.  The strands that are intended for the nipples are each eight and three-quarters inches long (including the clamps, not including the key rings), and the strand intended for the clit is about thirteen and three-quarters inches long, giving the entire set a length of about twenty-two and three quarters inches.

Around the clamps is a small metal ring.  This is used to close the clamps and adjust the tightness of the pinch.

What’s it for?

Decoration, mostly.  The two shorter strands attach to your nipples, and the longer strand attaches to your clit.

While these clamps do pinch some, it’s not too terribly painful.  The bead strands seem strong enough to be able to tug on the clamps, but it really doesn’t change the sensation much.  And they’re fully adjustable from “light squeeze” to “tight pinch”, though tight pinch is far less than the sensation provided by clovers, or even alligator style clamps.

These clamps are great for beginners or people who are into light to intermediate nipple play.  Read more…

I don’t know how much I’m willing to give you today.  I’m going to try to write about Tuesday night, but there’s a lot that I’m not ready to share.

I’m half expecting M to read this and order me to tell you the rest.  True to form, I’m pretending He wouldn’t do that.  Honestly, if He thinks it’s good for me, or He could have fun with it, He would.  But we’ll just keep pretending He wouldn’t, kay?

We went to bed around midnight, or so? We hadn’t done much of anything but sit on the couch for hours and talk about random shit and then watch a little television.  We crawled into bed and it took me all of ten minutes to fall asleep.  M was still awake.

“You’re falling asleep already, bitch?” He growled and I turned to blink at Him in the darkness.

“Yes, Master.  I’m exhausted. ”

“So you don’t want to get up to get beat?”

Again, I blinked at Him.  “Well, I mean, if it would please you, Master.”

“Get your ass in the living room, slut.  Don’t forget your collar and cuffs.”

I was sort of… stunned.  But I did as I was told.  I’ve long since forgotten the order of things.  So I’ll just talk about them as I think of them.

For a long time, He had me sat on the floor with my wrists locked together and my fingers in my pussy.  Just rubbing and touching my clit and lips.  Nothing major.  But eventually I got frustrated and asked Him to unlock them.  It’s really awkward playing with clamps with your wrists locked together and it was time for me to start playing with clamps.

I asked Him to put the tail in my ass, and He tried, but it was too much right off the bat, so we ended up waiting.  That was really embarrassing.  I had hoped a little lube was all we’d need for that toy, and, once upon a time, when He used to plug my ass regularly, that might have been true.  But apparently, that’s not true anymore.  My butt needs warm-up.  So, a few minutes after He tried the tail, I started trying to talk Him into one of our smaller toys.

He said, “Do you want your ass plugged?”

I started rambling something about wanting something in my ass, but being afraid it would hurt and, all firm, making it clear He wanted a yes or no, He said, “I will plug your ass with the smaller one if you want me to.  Do you want me to plug your ass?”  Read more…

Ugh.  Master’s working again.  Which, I mean, I’ve got shit I could be doing.  But I don’t wanna.

I also don’t wanna share last night.  But that’s got nothing to do with not wanting to talk about it.  I just don’t want to sit at my computer typing all day.  Though I might not have a choice.  Stupid job.

All of my pink parts hurt.  My clit’s so sore I dread having to pee.

So let’s see.  Where to begin.

I started whining around 3pm that I was horny and wanted to cum.  Master said no.  He said, “Don’t you want to wait till you can spread your legs and cum for your master?”

When I said I could do both, He said, “You could, but I’d rather you hold it till I get home.  See how horny you are by then.”

Bastard.  Lol.

But wait! It gets worse!

Not only did He tell me to hold it till He got home; He also told me to plug my ass.  Bent over in front of the webcam.  While He watched from work.

Oh! I’m not only required to be naked when He’s home.  I’m now required to be naked any time I’m home unless we have company.

Well, He didn’t say that.  But if I don’t immediately strip when I walk in the door after meeting Him for lunch and returning home, He tells me to.  If I try to get dressed after getting out of the shower, He tells me not to.  So, yeah.  Pretty much a requirement. Read more…

Master fucked all three holes in twenty-four hours.

I hear ya.  I hear ya.

What’s so unusual about that?

Well, ya see…  It is very unusual for Master to fuck all three holes in twenty-four hours.  Matter of fact, if He fucks my mouth and pussy in the same day it’s odd.  He’s the type that decides on a hole and sticks with it for that day.  Or maybe for a week.  There were a couple months where I was lucky if He was in anything but my mouth.  No lie.

I’m not sure that He does it consciously.  Matter of fact, He probably doesn’t even realize He does it.  Well, until He reads this, that is.

But you see…  This is what happened.

We’re watching South Park, okay?  And we’re both a little intoxicated.  Okay, we’re both a lot intoxicated.  And I really don’t remember what prompted it but He said something about “Why don’t you touch your cunt, Cunt?” or something and I thought I was in for a night of serious hurting.  I was totally ready for a night of serious hurting.

I got my night of serious hurting… just not the way I expected to.

Apparently, just gathering the clamps I could find was enough to give Master an unbearable hard-on.  Cause I’d only clamped my nipples once and my clit twice before He said, “I think you should get on your hands and knees in front of me.”  I hadn’t even brought the paddle or cane out.  Just the slut-paddle.  And I brought that out with the intention of beating my pussy. Read more…

After looking at their toys, I sure as hell hope so.

I signed up to do reviews over at Eden Fantasys.  Then I noticed their nifty widget creator and threw a bunch of purple toys from my wish list in.  I have ninety items on my wish list already.  My pussy’s getting all twitchy just thinking about it!

So I’ve been jealously guarding the details of Saturday night. They’re mine, damn it. And I wanted to keep them. At least for a little while.

Of course, part of that is because I got lost somewhere in the middle. I forgot what happened almost as it was happening.

I don’t think I can, in good conscience, consider subspace something I can’t attain anymore. We were definitely doing it wrong. And it’s my fault for not speaking up sooner.

One of our favorite things to do, lately, is have insanely long, insanely intense mutual masturbation sessions that eventually turn into wild monkey sex. Let me tell you how giant a step this is for us. Somehow, I think if we’d both opened up this much six years ago we’d have had fewer problems along the way. Maybe not. Who knows, right?

I still don’t remember much. I remember Master wanted me to torture my clit. Had said so two or three times throughout the day before we ended up on the couch watching porn. But I wasn’t interested. I wanted to be beaten. Read more…

Thursday night was incredible. Master and I pulled an all-nighter again. This time seemed to be a combination of Him wanting me to enjoy it – a LOT – and doing what He wanted. Sort of.

We haven’t had a scene like this in ages. Although, I’m not sure it constitutes a “scene”, per se. But whatever. *shrug*

I can’t help the way SVU makes me feel. I’m a rape victim but being raped – even when it was non-consensual… a secret I’d only actually told Master until this moment – turns me on more than I could ever say. So, instead of boohooing for the girls in the show, I find myself fantasizing about how I would feel if I was the victim.

We watched a few old episodes from the fourth season and that was it. We needed harder porn. Which, let me tell you, is just utterly bizarre because Master never used to think porn was interesting. We’ve since learned that we enjoy watching women be used. “Enjoy” is probably too light a word.

We’ve found a ton of free porn sites, which works out great for us because, while what I really want is clips of Carrie and Taylor playing with knives and Kaya and Scott playing with the misery stick, I’m broke right now. Redtube.com, pornotube.com, tube8.com… those are the ones we’ve been using more frequently. The only thing I don’t like about pornotube is that the listings don’t have the length of the videos on the front page so you don’t know until you go into them.

It started the way it always does, now. Master and I were sitting naked on the couch watching porn and my hand found its way between my legs. From there, I can’t even begin to give an accurate description of what happened. It started with Him playing with the clovers and them not being tight enough for my liking. So I went to get the black and red clamps we bought for Master for one of His woodworking projects. Useless for woodwork. Excellent for nipples and clits. Mine anyway.

So as we’re both torturing the hell out of my poor clamped clit, Master decides He wants to beat me. I’m game! I’ve not had a sound beating in ages.

I expected it to be the way it almost always is when we play. Master diving headlong into the deep end, then swimming into the ocean. I was pleasantly surprised.  Read more…

I’m lame today. I couldn’t think of what it’s really called since I didn’t actually tie myself up or anything. Just hurt myself… a lot. And goodness was it hot. I had hoped He’d be inspired to write about it. It was so completely out of character for us. It’s looking like someone’s going to have to drop a bomb on Albany for Him to be inspired to write *pout*

So, I think I’ve mentioned before the many ways I discovered the fact that I’m a masochist but it’s possible I haven’t. Either way, I guess I can tell you a little bit about it before talking about how Master and I rang in the New Year. Though I guess it wasn’t actually New Year’s Eve. Anyway…

I don’t remember exactly how old I was. I was still wearing barrettes and bows, but I wore barrettes and bows all the way through my freshman year in high school. It was the only feminine thing I did growing up. I stopped when I realized only the cheerleaders wore bows.  But the barrettes served more than one purpose until I realized that clothespins work just as well. Barrettes, rubber bands, clipboards, objects small enough to fuck but large enough to hurt… anything I could find that would cause pain. I thought I was a freak (and maybe I am). I couldn’t imagine anyone being turned on like I was by pain. I’ve since learned otherwise, obviously.

So over the New Year weekend, Master and I were watching TV. I’m not sure what started it, but we began a lengthy (something like 12 hours… Don’t ask me how we managed it. I have no idea) mutual masturbation session. This is utterly bizarre for us. First, because Master doesn’t masturbate. At all. Ever. It wasn’t until just recently that He started touching His cock during sex at all aside from adjustments and putting it in and such. Second, because we’re almost always in a hurry. Hurry up and get off cause He’s gotta go to work. Hurry up and get off cause our show’s coming on. Hurry up and get off cause the dinner bell’s about to go off. You get the point.

That night, we had nothing but time. And after first telling me to just touch myself, He sent me for a toy. The clovers were already sitting on the arm of the love seat and there were paddles laying around. I wanted my nipples clamped something awful and started asking Him to do it. He told me no and then after a few minutes handed me the clamps. Handed me the clamps.  Read more…

He made me walk around the block with no bra and belled clamps tonight. Belled clamps! OMFG how embarrassing. Especially since “around the block” means in front of the most popular bar in town. He’s threatening the leash next time. I’m hiding under a rock!

Okay so I loved it. But shh! Don’t tell Master!

I don’t put things into words as well as I’d like. I’m not sure what that means, only that I listen to other people speak and read other people’s writings and I realize that I’m not very good at explaining what I mean. An example would be the grammar war I stuck my nose in on an art site Master and I belong to.

The quote in question was “…it is actually one my friend C did of my daughter and myself…” and someone piped up and said it should read “daughter and me”. “Daughter and me” is correct, because had the person been speaking of himself only the quote would have read “…it is actually one my friend C did of me…” I can’t seem to get across why it should be daughter and me and not daughter and I. People apparently paid attention when their teacher said you should put the other person before yourself in a sentence (because it’s grammatically correct to do so) but ignored the part about using I or me as you would use them if you were only talking about yourself. Anyway… that’s not important (aside from grammatical errors driving me insane).

Things have been a little weird around here. I’m in trouble less than normal but I’m also a little more outspoken than normal and I’m just waiting for Master to say, “Okay I’ve had enough of your feelings. Shut up.”

He’s decided He’ll be cleaning out the closet so He has a place to put me away. I’m not looking forward to it. Being mostly fearless, the small space doesn’t bother me, aside from being all sorts of cramped afterward. I’m not very good at entertaining myself so I’m worried about the boredom. And heaven forbid I should have trouble falling asleep on the nights He puts me in there to sleep. I’ll have no way of knowing how much time has passed.

Read more…