So I was pretty convinced the picture-taking wasn’t going to happen.  It’s hard relinquishing our “hang out and relax” time to performing.  In front of or behind the camera.  But relinquish it we did.  And pictures were taken.  Pictures I don’t ever want anyone to see.  Well… except one or two.

I suck at the whole model-face thing.  And I’d just sit and look normal except my “sit and look normal” face looks like “uber bitch” to everyone else.  So I’m gonna have to start practicing facial expressions in the mirror or something.  Seriously.

Master wasn’t watching my face.  He was watching my pussy.  Through the lens of His camera.  As I thrusted my BOB in and out over and over.

He kept telling me what to do.  “Okay now play with your clit.”  “Fuck yourself some more.”  “Hold it open so I can beat it.”  *screeching halt* What?

I tried.  I swear to god, I tried (Yes, I see the irony in me swearing to something I don’t believe in).  Can I just say that shit fucking hurts?  Especially when He’s hitting as hard as He can there first.  But He really was trying to rip my pussy lips off with the flogger to find a happy medium.  Somewhere between gruesome torture the way He likes to hit and feather like caresses how much my pussy can handle right off the bat.  Apparently I’m more of a warm-up girl than I realized. 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…