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There’s a lot of love her, but a fair amount of interesting sex in Diary of a Dominatrix #34: The Roots of Our Kinks, Part II

It was quite an intense scene, which you can view here if you’d like. Here’s the free Youtube interview.

Diary of a Dominatrix #25: The Breaking of Mister P

Diary of a Dominatrix #12

If so, I’d love to hear ‘em. And never forget, my group members — my Best Bets — always have full access to not only the chastity journal, but my little devious pontifications. In fact, they can ask me anything they want to.

Would you like to join up? It’s easy — and totally free. (And don’t worry about being approved; I’ll take care of that for you.)

I wonder what wild and crazy things we’ll cook up this time — or if we’ll just be kickin’ it old school. (I do love a good T&D scene.)

Decisions, decisions.

As I’ve written in prior posts, episodes of chastity tend to give me these overwhelming feelings of intensity. On Saturday night, I was definitely feeling it, and she had already let me know that I would NOT be coming this weekend. I felt the telltale sense of growing awe as I got home from work that night and looked upon her; the femininity of her body always seems so amazing about three days into chastity. The shape of her face, the heave of her breasts, and the feel of her ass, all seem to be entirely new; it’s as though she were the only woman in the world to me.

But with that sense of awe also comes a sense of dread, for she is going to use me for her pleasure and I am to be kept wanting. With that in mind, she took me over to the couch, sat straddle of my lap, and started kissing me. She and I really enjoy long make-out sessions, although, during these times my submissiveness really comes through. I just melt under her as she pushes my face back and runs her tongue down the length of my neck. We continue making out as she whips my longing for her into a fevered pitch and then commands me to take my pants off. I do so and sit submissively on the couch waiting for her next move.

She stands before me as I sit on the couch and look at her. Given my submissive mindset and the need to come, the power of her sexuality intimidates and scares me as she lowers her panties to her ankles. I have no idea what she’s going to do to me, but I’m already under her thumb and feel a growing sense of dread as she straddles my lap. She positions herself so that her pussy is rubbing right against my cock and begins to grind away as I’m forced to helplessly watch her get herself off. She makes it a long, slow process this time as she slowly grinds her hips forward and backward and I watch her facial expressions as she throws her head back and begins to really enjoy herself.

“Please, don’t do this to me, honey,” I plead with her as she continues to grind her pussy against my stationary cock in complete denial of my needs. “Please,” I say as I begin to breakdown into a kind of panic. “Please, don’t leave me here.”

“What?” she asks looking down at me. It seems my words had monetarily moved her out of her build to orgasm.

“Please, don’t come without me. Don’t leave me here … Please,” I say in a soft and pathetic voice.

She has a big heart and has always cared a lot for me, and so I am touched as she thinks things over and suddenly seems to acknowledge my demands. “OK,” she says. “Come with me into the bedroom.”

Maybe she will let me come with her. I’m suddenly overcome with hope. She lies back on our bed and invites me to enter her.

“Although,” she says as she spreads her legs, “this doesn’t mean I’m going to let you come.”

At that moment, I just didn’t care. I was just so thankful to be able to place my cock inside her wonderfully warm pussy as opposed to feeling its slippery lips rubbing against my impotent cock as I sat below her on the couch.

“Oh, thank you, thank you,” I begin to chant as I penetrate her. “Fuck, your pussy feels so good.”

“Go slowly,” she says as she tempers my clumsy efforts to enter her. “And remember, this is for me. Not you.”

“Yes, darling. Thank you. Thank you so much,” I blather on, as I command my body to do as she wills. It’s wonderful feeling her build to orgasm as I slowly rock my cock into her at her command and rhythm. And then, as she begins to let out the preparatory orgasmic moans, I ask her if I can come.

“Yes,” she screams. “Come for me.”

“Oh, thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” I being to chant as I build myself to my own orgasm. “My God, your pussy feels so… fucking … good … ” Before I can’t say any more.

And then we collapse together and all of the submissiveness seems to immediately leave my body with all of the tension in a sudden rush. My brain instantly snaps back to its more rational state and beings to wonder just what kind of blathering fool I was acting like and why on Earth I would ever want to engage in these scenes.

“It’s OK,” she says as she moves her hand to my face. “I love that side of you. I always want you to express it to me.”

She wordlessly understands my inner conflict and how I’m feeling right now.

“Thank you,” I say to her for what must have been the hundredth time that night. “I like that you do.”

And we laid together silently for a few minutes as the moment passed.

I’ve no sessions at the moment, and am abysmally bored. Will no one call me on my NiteFlirt line? I’m in one of those moods today. The beast is unleashed; I want someone to torture and tease. Pick apart his little brain and leave him begging for me to put it back together again.

But only if he’s lucky. And only if he begs me properly.

Are there no takers? Not even for a little while?

Consider it now. Soon, I won’t be asking.