Pleasure is my business, my life, my joy, my purpose.

Category: a Love: Onyx Page 3 of 14

Control

There are days where all day my thoughts continue to come back to complete control. Lately it’s been giving up complete control to another, to the point where my clothes and activities are all laid out for me and presented in an unquestionable manner. All I do is in service and dedication to the other. All I am is an assistant to improve their life and quality of living and a toy for them to play with.

It’s an enchanting scenario for me, though logically I know it’s not something I could stand on a daily basis. Not without some radical personality changes, that is. I admire those that could do it, though, able to set ego aside completely and simply live in dedicated service to another being. Perhaps what that is what compels me about it.

I wonder if the fantasy would be better than the reality. If I would get irritable and selfish, or grumpy. If I could actually do it for a day or a few.

I’ve been attracted to the idea of control for as long as I remembered. It started as a fascination with consensual non-consent and rough ravishment play. The idea of force is little but taking power over another, controlling the other, turning the other person helpless. It may be the helpless aspect I’m attracted to most of all, being completely at the whim of another person.

The control that Onyx exerts over me, that I have given to him, I think that it could expand to anything he chooses. My relation to control has changed so dramatically in the last year or two. I find myself wanting to give control over to him more and more, getting rid of any expectations and taking pleasure in doing as he demands.

I feel submissive in a different way than I used to, and I like it.

I used to be so much more resistant than I am now. I was defiant and bratty, but not for the sake of fun because I felt somehow threatened by giving my power away, maybe because I was doing that unconsciously in a different way already, but that’s another post.

We don’t play with power as deeply ((for lack of a better term)) as I would like to, though we’ve been playing deeper than we have before. What I mean by “deep” is, in a way, the same as “more” in that he has more control, more power, and has been embracing that. I don’t think there’s anything inherently better about playing more deeply, but it is simply something I want to explore.

A few nights ago I brought this up, and I hope I helped to dissolve some of the fears Onyx has about it. Sometimes it’s difficult for me to figure out if he has a genuine interest in something or if he’s just willing to try it to appease me. Perhaps it doesn’t matter either way because trying it could end up giving him a genuine interest in it.

Since then I’ve felt a bit of a shift, and I hope it continues until our re-collaring on the 19th.

Collars

Five years ago on November 19th Onyx collared me for the first time. We were in my apartment in Ashland, Oregon at the time. He lived in Salt Lake City and was visiting for the weekend.

We had been together long distance for only about five months when Onyx collared me the first time. He’s bought me a few different leather collars over the years, most of them have deteriorated in some way due to 24/7 wear. Currently I wear a heart-shaped necklace that he bought for me for the holidays in 2007 as my collar.

So much has happened since this collar was bought, not to mention since he first collared me, especially with our D/s dynamics, that I have been longing for a new collar. I wanted a permanent collar, one that would stand up to 24/7 wear. I began looking around at collars, not mindful of the anniversary that was coming up. We have been talking about getting me a metal collar with gems for years ((the conversation in that post happened before the November 19th visit in 2005)) and I found a different style than we were looking at all those years ago, but a better style. We finally have it in our possession. It arrived in the mail today.

Since I have to wait to wear it until the 19th you have to wait to see it until the 19th. Though some of you have seen it already (cheaters).

I wanted something sturdy, something he could use to choke me with if he so chooses ((since we do a lot of breath play this does not seem like too much of a request, though will definitely be risky, but we will examine the risks)), and something that could be locked. I got all of those things. It also has onyx and garnet gems inlaid in it, just like we were wanting years ago.

In some ways I feel like we’re finally getting to the place where we wanted to be all those years ago, the relationship we both wanted to have that we just couldn’t get to. I think a lot of that was me, though we both had hangups before. We’re at such a solid place now it’s almost ridiculous.

I’m not sure what he has planned for the (re-)collaring on this November the 19th, though I plan on asking him. It was so accidental ((or at least I was not consciously aware of the collaring anniversary until I looked it up)) that I brought up wanting a new collar in time for us to get it right around our collaring anniversary. I’m looking forward not just to wearing the collar but for all it will represent: the rebirth of our relationship after breaking up last winter and finding each other again; his ownership of me and the different flavor our D/s-O/p has taken; our love and our bond which is now stronger than ever, transmuted from leather to steel.

For as long as I can remember I’ve seen collars as important and binding. As binding as a wedding ring, if not moreso, and far more preferable to me ((I am just not that big on marriage for various reasons)). His is the only collar I’ve ever accepted, and this relationship is the longest I’ve been in. I’m excited to show this renewed commitment to him and our relationship.

Helpless

He straddles my waist where I lay and pins my arms against me. I’m still able to squirm but know that even if I tried to get free it would be difficult. Not that I want to try. I look up at him, helpless beneath him, and he just grins and slaps first my left cheek and then my right. I whimper my false protests as my cheeks turn rosy red and sting from the impact.

The same hand connects with each of my breasts in turn. I squirm and try to cover them but am unable to free my arms. He likes me like this: helpless, unable to stop his ravaging of my body as he chooses. I like me like this: helpless, without the ability to move or cover myself, knowing my protests will not stop him.

A few more slaps and he moves to unzip his pants, not bothering to take off his clothes or my own as he rises up a bit. He shifts enough to let my hungry mouth find his cock, or for him to shove it into my mouth. They both happen simultaneously. I try to move my head as best as I am able but for the most part he is just fucking my face. Yet he’s not just fucking my face, he’s telling me through his actions that I am his for the taking, and I’m lapping it up.

It doesn’t take him long to lean against the wall behind my head and really start moving his hips up and down, his cock gliding in and out of my wet mouth.

Occasionally as he fucks my face he presses all the way in until his balls hit my chin and I have difficulty breathing. Sometimes he pinches my nose shut when he does this. I fight my gag reflex for as long as possible before my throat contracts around his cockhead in the way I know he enjoys. I gag once and then twice at the minimum before he lets me breathe again.

He’s usually gracious and gives me a few breaths to recover with after gagging. I sometimes cough or sputter but always move my mouth toward his cock soon after, taking the initiative in a way even as I’m still trapped beneath him. Most often he will utilize this moment by slapping my face, or playing with my breasts or nipples.

Sometimes he will come in my mouth like this, but this time he moves down between my legs which spread easily for him and he slips his cock into my cunt, made wet from his rough treatment. My throat lets out a moan as I move to meet his thrust as best I can. He takes me effortlessly, occasionally grunting his own pleasure but mostly staying silent as my own sounds fill the air.

We move together for what seems like forever, I clench myself around him as he drives in and out of my wet cunt. I am able to hear my wetness with every movement, the realization of which makes me blush internally, my face already flushed from the activity. He moves my legs so they are up straight against him, my feet on his shoulders, changing the angle so his cockhead hits my g-spot perfectly. My moans change and hands start gripping the wall behind me for support.

Suddenly he pulls out and pushes my legs to the side, guiding me onto my knees. I catch a glimpse of his face which is devoid of expressive emotion. He is at once distant from me and present with me. He is treating me like his fucktoy and I am more than happy to receive it. I quickly move into the right position, backing my hips up against him until his hardness slips inside me again and he continues fucking me with renewed fervor.

I am in heaven for the next few minutes as his cock continues to stimulate my g-spot, the familiar feeling welling up in me, so akin to needing to pee yet not the same at all. I brace myself against the wall again as his movements become even more demanding, shoving my body forward with each thrust. I let my body move with the force of him while also pushing back. His hands are on my hips both to stabilize himself and to guide my movements, a constant reminder of his control.

He starts grunting even more, almost growling as he nears his orgasm, focused on taking his pleasure out on me, letting me feel the depth of his lust for me as I absorb it all into my being.

I am His in this moment, completely and utterly.

Soon he lets out a loud growl as he begins to come. I can feel him exploding in me and make sure to squeeze my cunt muscles tight around him, my feet move to hook around his shins as he kneels behind me, a small gesture.

Once movement stops we both pant for breath and he rolls us over onto our sides. Our clothes still separate our flesh from each other in most places. I can feel the roughness of his jeans against my ass.

Spooning, he wraps an arm around me, the other serving as my pillow. My hand entwines with his and my legs slip between his. My ankles rest on his shins. I am enveloped by him even as he is still enveloped by me. I am again trapped by his limbs, this time helpless against the love and comfort he provides.

Coming On Command

Ever since I got back from Alaska Onyx and I have been playing on a different level. The level we both always wanted to but could never quite get to after I moved. The level we both, I think, crave. We have been a little more set in our roles than before and have been playing more with power.

Control for me is hot, being controlled or controlling another. It’s something I crave. Power play, to me, is a necessary part of sexuality. For a long while Onyx and I have been working on getting me to come on command. Basically what I mean by this is coming when he tells me to, when he allows me to. This is different than simply not coming until/unless he allowed me to, which we have been playing with for quite a while.

We started a long while ago with me simply having to ask for permission to come. I still do ask occasionally, but mostly now he just tells me when to come. It’s been a slow Pavlovian process. He would often draw stimulation out even after I had asked (and still does sometimes), but I would be sure not to come until after he had expressed it, thus instilling in my body’s responses to come when he tells me to.

We’ve gotten to the point that I think I have just about mastered this task. Now I rarely ask, usually he just tells me when to come and I do. It’s not the same kind of orgasm that I have alone, it’s not quite as deep, for lack of a better term. It’s still definitely an orgasm and I find that they are getting more intense as my body gets used to the aural trigger rather than the physical one. Regardless it’s definitely different, but not bad in the least.

I’m actually quite proud of it.

I like that his command can make me come even when my body isn’t quite yet ready to. It creates a response in me that I don’t want to control, it’s too delicious to feel under the control of his commands.

It’s quite exciting, really, not just in a sexual sense, but because this is something we have both been interested in and wanted for quite some time. It’s a symbol of our renewed dedication to each other and the ease with which we are playing with power in our relationship again after the events of last year.

Equality in Inequality

I was sitting at his feet as we watched a show, the most normal of circumstances, my head resting on his thigh and his hand in my hair, and I came to a micro revelation. This isn’t really new, I’ve written about this same thing before and it’s how Onyx and I have operated for quite a while, but I had not really put the pieces together as to why I’m considered a “bad” submissive by some and why I had such trouble accepting some of the submissive tropes I had heard in the past.

I used to have more trouble submitting than I do now. I was told constantly that in order to submit I must think of my Top/Owner/WhatHaveYou as someone better than myself, higher than myself, someone to look up to not just literally. I was told that in order to be a submissive I must think of myself as less than or inferior.

While I will admit there are things which Onyx is better than me at there are just as many things which I am better than him at. We’re pretty fairly balanced as far as skills and intelligence goes, I believe. For a long while I had trouble with this concept because I was trying to fit our equality, or equity, along lines of a differentiated power dynamic.

It was from me sitting at his feet, my hair being stroked as I laid my head upon his thigh and we both watched the screen before us, that I understood this difference. For me it’s never been about being less than someone else that makes me want to submit, it’s about relinquishing control to another and trusting someone else completely enough to do that. Enjoying being treated like Onyx’s pet or prized possession, has nothing to do with being less than him or inferior to him, but is simply the dynamic we choose to enact.

The power dynamic between Onyx and myself comes from a place of equality. We are equals and because we are equals I can choose to be his property, because I have power I can choose to give that power over to him. If I had no power, if I had no choice, then there would be less enjoyment for both of us. It’s never been about inferiority for us, although there is nothing wrong with playing with that dynamic as well, but it’s just not where either of us live.

When I was having trouble submitting, when we were having trouble with our dynamic, I was told to think of him as better than me, to trust that he knows better than I do or that he is more capable than I am so that he could lead me. I had trouble with this. The real issue that was happening was I didn’t trust him and he didn’t trust himself, so we both were sabotaging the dynamic we both wanted but also feared. What I needed to do was trust that he knew what I wanted and needed and would choose what to give me, not to hold him up as greater than myself as I was told.

Although we play with power and pain there is no inequality in our relationship dynamic, which may sound like an oxymoron. I put my trust in him to take care of me and give me what I need and he puts his trust in me that I will take care of him and give him what he needs. We’re each giving and taking in different ways, but we’re both equally valued and appreciated and both getting and giving.

Perhaps equity is a better term for it than equality. Unfortunately equality comes along with all sorts of connotations that are not necessarily all good. Equality does not mean identicality or sameness, although a lot of people seem to think that is true. Equality doesn’t mean abolishing differences but it’s about celebrating sameness and differences. Really the way I use equality is the same as equity, but for the sake of minimizing confusion I think equity makes more sense in this instance.

Obviously by imposing a power dynamic on our relationship we are not equal in some senses of the word, but our contributions to each other and the relationship are equitable. They are valued the same and we are valued the same because of it. We are equals although we do not always interact in ways typically thought of as equal. We play with inequality in our actions because we are equals in every other way.

Wavelengths

My mother has been visiting for the last little over a week. She’s been staying in the living room of our tiny one bedroom apartment which means Onyx and I really have only had sex once in the last little over a week. I would say this is quite less than usual, though our number and frequency varies from time to time depending on how busy we are etc. Last night especially I was ready to about jump him, however. Today she is heading East to visit family over there. A text message exchange from earlier today:

Onyx: Is your mom heading to PA today?

Me: I believe she is, she hasn’t left quite yet. I would very much like some rough sex when she is gone. ;D

Onyx: I was just thinking about slappin’ you around a bit.

Me: Excellent. I love when we are on the same wavelength! :D

The minute she was gone I went into our bedroom where he was taking a nap and proceeded to wake him up with kisses and a blowjob, or facefucking, whichever you would prefer to call it. That is, I started the action but he quickly took over leading the movements of my head with his hands usually via my hair and including the occasional slap on the cheek. After a bit of this he quickly guided me over and down onto my stomach and pressed my head and chest into the bed, easily sliding into me and pinning me down as he began to fuck me. Needless to say, I was happy.

His hands played with my head a little: he pulled my hair, he slapped my cheeks, he slipped his fingers into either side of my mouth and held my mouth open, he covered my mouth and nose so I couldn’t breathe. All of this while continuing to pound into me as I lay trapped beneath him, as I moaned and tried to thrust back with my hips as best as possible–though that wasn’t too possible. He then took each of my wrists and brought them behind my back, pressing down again to keep me against the bed and fucking me with extra vigor until he came inside of me.

We lay there, both working on catching our breath before rolling over, snuggling, kissing, exchanging “I love you”s. Soon his fingers were on my clit with his other hand in my hair. We kissed and I panted and squealed and moaned my way to four or so most delicious orgasms culminating in the strongest one last. I’ve just about gotten this coming on command thing down, though that’s another post.

Five Years

someecards.com - Even when we're 80 I will do you from behind
I always count on someecards to give me the best anniversary cards

Today is the five year anniversary of when Onyx and I met face-to-face. We had known each other well online for about six months (known of each other for longer–I’ve written the background of our relationship before and how we met and etc.) and despite mention of trips and a snafu resulting in him not visiting me the week before despite plans to do so it was today that he showed up on my doorstep five years ago.

I moved in with him thirteen months later, on August 26th the next year.

So much has changed since then and so much has remained the same. We are both similar but different from the way we used to be, as it should be, and both dedicated to encouraging the other to grow. I think I end up saying this every year, but it’s true, and it’s why we’ve been able to stay together even after everything that has happened.

I can’t imagine my life without him in it in one way or another, we’ve grown apart and together with a balance of each that has just made our love and connection stronger over the years. Especially after the triad we have change immensely, these last seven months have probably been the best and most fruitful of our five long years together. We are connecting on a deeper and more fundamental level than ever before, doing more things together, and doing things apart as well. It’s really quite amazing.

Here’s to five more years.

Casual Sexuality

Since I’ve been back from Juneau my number of sex partners has increased by four. This may not seem like a lot, but it’s about a thirty-three percent increase from my previous number (assuming I’m doing my math correctly). The small amount of casual sex I had before Onyx and I got together was minimal and done so out of a place of loneliness and depression, but this has been done out of a place of joy and openness. Even so I’m not having the best time with it.

Two of the four new partners were spur-of-the-moment one-time deals, people I didn’t really know and knew there wouldn’t be much chance of anything further developing. For one of the two I thought maybe there would be the possibility, but that was quickly nullified. Neither of these are sitting well with me.

The other two are a couple, I’ve written about them before. They are friends, continue to be friends, and the possibility for more fun is there. There is no awkwardness or uncomfortability, it’s just the way it is. I have no problems with this.

I have always been drawn to the idea of having casual play with friends and I’ve often fetishized the idea of sex with anonymous strangers, but the reality of the latter is not sitting as well with me.

I’m more than a little bummed that of the four sex partners three are male and one is female, but I also find that I tend to be more romantically interested in females and physically interested in males, that’s just how I’ve always been. I enjoy sex with everyone, don’t get me wrong, and I’m generally more physically attracted to females and transpeople than males but I’m also far more timid and reserved when I’m actually interested in someone.

While, as I mentioned, I’ve had some casual sexual encounters before pre-Onyx they were few and far between and usually circumstances of the internet and not really all that satisfying. These new experiences were all enjoyable but have left me unsettled. At the same time I’m drawn to the idea of the casual hook-up. Of the two one-time-only encounters one has turned out well and the other is a little awkward, and I do wonder if the awkward one were to be defeated perhaps that would put a better light on the entirety of casual hook-up-ness.

This is still a work in progress, so perhaps simply more research is needed before I can have a fully formed opinion.

Want Perpetuates Want

ABY101209e by jvrsta

There are times when I can’t escape from want. Want perpetuates want until all I can think of is taking or being taken. Lately it’s been the latter. The most mundane movements crackle with the electricity of my desire for it. With each moment want increases exponentially until it consumes my entire being and I feel my body begin to sing with it, unsure if anyone else can sense the desires within me threatening to explode.

Every movement of my lips makes me think of cool steel being placed between them, forcing them open a little to wide, almost painfully, after not too long my jaw beginning to ache. My mouth open and available for use or just for amusement as I am unable to contain the spit dribbling out onto my breasts. Or I think of a hand covering my mouth, pinching my nose shut, controlling my breath and stealing my air, not letting me breathe for just a little longer than I think I can handle before releasing and letting me gulp for it, even my most essential of functions controlled.

My fingers lift up to absently run through my hair and suddenly I can think of nothing else but a hand gripping and pulling on the short purple mess, making my scalp burn. My head tingles with want and later, when I am alone, I will allow my digits to curl around those locks and tug, although the feeling is nothing like when the fingers aren’t mine.

Using my hands to gesticulate or type or simply any movement in which I become aware of them makes my wrists ache for want of the bite of rope or cuffs lining them. The bracelets I always wear feel heavy with my own perception as the pressure they place increases the want, and awareness of my wrists makes my attention also focus on my ankles. I want to be bound, helpless, enveloped by the power of my partner and trapped in that moment where all I can fixate on is the sensation. Maybe blindfolded, maybe not, but unable to see what is coming next and my entire body alive with anticipation.

Every time I shift my attention is brought first to my ass and then to my cunt, the attention itself enough to make my lips tingle and grow with want. I know that were I to sneak a finger into my core I would feel the hot wetness that is even now creeping out onto my underwear. I would feel my vulva puffy with want of use, my holes craving to be taken.

My ass, on the other hand, tingles with a different kind of want, aching for the smart sting of a cane, hoping to be bruised this time as bruising does not come easily. I want a hand, a flogger, a cane, anything that will make me quiver with desire and make my cunt that much more overtaken with want. I would close my eyes and imagine the pattern the glowing lines are making, imagine the perfectly lined angry and raised red marks against my pale skin.

I want the continual moments of perpetuation of desire to last forever, hanging in a state of anticipation that my mind or my partner has created. I want everything in those moments, my entire being overtaken with want and desire to be taken to a different state of mind. Power is a drug and I am an addict, but I will happily drown in my addiction so I may feel the want again and again. With a good partner our addiction feeds each other, my discomfort is our pleasure, my pain our high, the power exchange our masterpiece.

Doublethink Over Dissonance

Onyx and I have settled in to a remarkably comfortable D/s dynamic. We have talked extensively about it, but the difference this time is that it just clicks, for lack of a better term. All the background issues that were making so much noise the last time we were trying these power roles have been resolved, thanks in large part to the many things we learned through the trial of the triad. I find myself enjoying to do things for him, and he is now more able to push and guide me than he was before. It is, in a word, wonderful.

I have noticed that I am hesitant to share this power dynamic with others, even on here to an extent. I believe this is in part due to it still, in some ways, being so new and foreign but mostly it is because it is still private and vulnerable. Despite the abundance with which I share my private feelings and thoughts on this blog (less so now than I have before, but I’m working on writing more when I don’t have writer’s block) I have an extremely difficult time sharing personal things with others, especially in person and especially those I don’t know very well. Hell, I even have trouble expressing things to Onyx sometimes which I would have no issue writing to him.

The last couple of weekends while going out with amazing people I’ve noticed myself being slightly more comfortable but still not all that comfortable with expressing my submissiveness, and that was with fellow kinky perverted people who have read my blog including stories of me being slapped and dominated and fucked. I don’t mean showing my submissvieness to them, but just talking about it.

I see others so secure in their submission and happy to proclaim to the world that they are submissive and I find myself having trouble with that. Perhaps it is because I am a switch. I can’t fully embrace my role as submissive because, although I feel submissive to Onyx, I do not feel wholly like a submissive. I cannot throw myself into submission with complete abandon because I am also a Top. Or, that is the roadblock I come to in my mind.

Although I don’t consciously think this is true, there is a part of me that thinks embracing submission fully would mean giving up the parts of myself that are not submissive. Call it internalized binary programming that says I have to be one or the other but never both. The way some people say someone can’t feel Dominant and submissive at the same time, but I highly disagree, I say I am always both and it is the people I am with and situations I am in that bring each out in me.

However, I don’t have any hesitations about expressing my dominant side. I think in part this is because it is less vulnerable, less private, in a way. I am more comfortable with it, but also because it seems to be less normative. It’s more “okay” to express because it somehow shakes up the expectations.

I feel the same way with sexuality and gender, I’m far more comfortable expressing my desires when they have to do with cis-females or trans-people than when they have to do with cis-males. Essentially, I’m far more comfortable expressing my queer sexuality than what would be seen as a hetero-sexuality, as if expressing desire for cis-males somehow makes me less queer. Of course, in some minds it does. In some minds it would completely invalidate any other expression of queerness.

Similarly with gender I have been desiring lately to express my masculine side, the personae (yes, plural) I designate as Quyn or Sebastian sometimes. I used to dress more masculine and drifted to the feminine and now I’m working on finding the way to be both or neither, to dress as I please. While I’m more comfortable expressing my femme drag queen gender identity I think because that, in some ways, is the one that is less normative, despite being assigned female at birth, but that’s a whole other post.

Perhaps in the same vein expressing submissive desires could somehow invalidate any expression of dominance. I’m not saying this is the case, but I do think that Aristotelian logic is so ingrained in our culture that it is difficult to work against. If we express ourselves as being on one side of a cultural binary we are not only saying what we are but we are saying what we are not. By this logic when I say I am submissive I’m also saying I’m not dominant. It works for everything, really: power, sexuality, gender, etc. All the identities I hold middle ground on, certainly, and others as well.

I’ve talked about this many times before, I know, and read about the phenomenon. It’s not new, but it is significant. The point I’m trying to make here, though, is that I’m more comfortable expressing one aspect but not another on these supposed binaries (and I should point out that I do not see power dynamics or sexualities as part of a binary system, but they are largely seen culturally to be so which makes operating outside of them difficult and that is why I am referring to them as binaries), and my comfortability seems to be backwards. I am comfortable expressing the non-normative desires, those outside what is culturally expected, when it’s usually (or so I think) the opposite.

I want to be just as comfortable expressing and embracing all of my identities, and the first step just like with anything is acknowledgement. I have internalized binary and aristotelian logic programming. I have internalized power dynamic programming. I can actively work on acknowledging this programming and work to move beyond it, and that’s what I’m trying to do. Instead of thinking of these socially contrary ideas in terms of conflict and feeling dissonance over them I want to get to a point of doublethink, where I am comfortable with embracing these identities that seem to be contradictory and am, further, comfortable in my own skin. That’s what it’s all about in the end, anyway.

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