healing- HNT

Today seems to mark a rather violent return to my sex drive.

While this week I have been spending time jerking off… it has been more out of opportunity than need.

Today, I have felt better than I have since the break up… my body speaking to me, finally.  My brain somewhat alive again with need and want.

The marks are healing…

So is the rest of me.

Happy HNT.  Go see Os to see whom else is playing this week!

Posted in: Erotica by badbadgirlx 7 Comments

for the taking

I want to have this release, even if it’s hard to do.

Strong hands on my skin, just grabbing me.  Fingers pushing into my cunt, each time pushing onto the sensation.  Taking it in, feeling my cunt stretch to accomodate his fingers.  Leans down and kisses me.  His tongue sweeping into my mouth, taking my breath away.  Strong lips- strong tongue.

Harder and faster, fingers pushing inside me- pressing against my gspot while his thumb rubs against my clit.  Kissing me harder, letting my moans escape into his mouth.

Climbing on top of me and pushing his cock into me.   Smooth, hot, hard.  I cry out… wrapping my legs around his ass.  My hands grabbing on to his muscular shoulders.  Getting into the rhythm of  fuck.  The beat of his cock pushing inside me, keeping time with my moans.  Warm melting sensations crawling over my body.

An old familiar friend… the orgasm I have when it comes to me.

Fingers laced together- we embrace again and he bends his knees under me.  My legs hitching up and he drives his cock into me.  Harder and deeper.  His pelvis rocking against my clit, my hips arched downwards to meet his strokes.  Getting lost in the fuck, finally.  Finally escaping the days and weeks that have kept me from meeting this moment.  Allowing myself to feel good.

Not fighting the transition from warmth to scalding- I move with his movement and allow it to take me.  Allow it to burn over my skin.  Taking my own orgasm from him.  Greedy, hungry… starved for it.

Nails digging into skin and pulling him in closer as my orgasm helps him reach his.  My cunt pulses around him milking the cum from his cock.  We groan and grunt and curse like vulgar beasts- simply letting go- and taking.  Taking what is here to take.

Sometimes a fantasy is enough to get me through- but soon I will take what’s mine for the taking.

Soon.

Posted in: Erotica, Fantasy by badbadgirlx No Comments , ,

masochistic or breakdown?

It’s late, or maybe it’s early.  I just can’t sleep lately.

Earlier I started getting horny and anxious.  Anxious I can deal with but horny is something altogether different.  Horny is something that I struggle with.  I’ve spent time, masturbating, forcing the orgasms… one, two, three if I can manage it.  Each of them done when I have the time, but the desire is not exactly a requirement.  I just need to feel something different than what I usually feel which is empty.  Feeling horny makes me MORE anxious actually.

I deal with the anxiety much the way that you would expect.  I’ve learned that physical pain helps me.  It calms me.  It buts me in my own headspace where things get quiet.  It’s not sex.  It’s a warmth under my skin, that burns, and itches but ultimately soothes me.

This isn’t a cry for help, but a question.

I think I’ve always been a masochist, but I didn’t always know how to make that work.  I know now.  I know that enough sharp stings against my tender skin will calm that feeling that my chest is going to explode.  I know that tight clamps on my nipples, or really any tender piece of skin, breathing in and out- that wonderful sensation.  It’s better than the pills, or the booze.  It’s natural… it’s adrenaline.

So is it wrong that I’m doing it alone? I have no desire to let anyone elses hands on me right now.

Well, that isn’t exactly true- lately I have felt that it would be nice to fuck.  To disconnect and lose myself under, over, entwined without someone elses  body.  To exchange that sexual energy and pretend I’m not thinking of him.  Yes, I would like that…

But to hurt me?  To ease my soul?  Not yet.  I don’t know that I want anyone ELSE to provide me that.  I don’t trust right now.  I can do it myself.  I want to take care of my own trembling skin.  Is that wrong?  Is that a cry for help to continue marking my skin the way I used to do as directed-  or is it perfectly normal?

Will you think me unhealthy?  Or am I just a masochist without a sadist?

I’m asking.

Posted in: Erotica by badbadgirlx 4 Comments ,

cut

“Bleed baby,” the voice says to me…  the blade running over my skin.  I scratch it over my thighs…  dildo shoved into my cunt, vibrator pressed hard against my cunt.  My nails dig into my skin, but I feel it.  I feel the sharp edge of the blade drawing lines.  My head falls back…

“No- watch.”

He’s watching me… I’m watching, the black metal blade and I press down, running it to my soft inner thigh.  Pressing, harder, watching my skin give to the pressure.  Waiting… waiting.

I want to bleed.  I want to feel that sting of the blade, slice into my skin, the rush of dark red blood pouring out my pain.  My cunt responds to my heartbeat that waits, pounding quietly while the the skin sinks closer to the bone.  The blade has not broke the skin… no, it’s pushing, and scratching.  not piercing.

My cunt throbs with the anticipation of the cut.  As if the blade is up against the small pink ball of nerves and when it breaks through- the most amazing of sensations occurs.  That sweet release of pain.  The kind that comes with spanking and beating my cunt.  Biting.  That burn.  That pain that makes you cry out loud but not crawl away.

The cock pushes farther inside me- and my cunt is burning right at the edge of orgasm- but waiting.  Waiting until I get brave enough.

“Bleed for me baby, do it.”

Yes….  pressing the blade harder against my skin, slicing it away- but holding back.  Afraid.  No, you can do it better.  You can do it harder.  Show me, baby girl.  Show me how you bleed….

it’s intoxicating… the waiting.  The mere test of my own resolve.  Can I do this… will my skin relent to the blade.  I press harder, thinking it should be easier to cut my skin.  I’ve sliced it open on broken glass, watching the shard fall right over my foot and slice right through.  Why can’t I do this?  Why do I crave this?  Am I so masochistic that the extremes get me off while the rest has become…

… and the slice gives. My breath jumps as the blade it drags across the soft flesh, opening it up- the blood runs, red.  dark.  welling and then weighted down, running  down my thigh in thick dark lines as the orgasm takes me, hard.  pouring out of me like my blood and this wound.  engulfing the sharp blade, covering me.

yesss… and my voice gets lost in my throat as I bleed.  my body releases.  The blade rests now.  my cunt slowing it’s dance as I wipe the thick fluid with my fingers.  Dragging it up my thighs… rubbing it on my cunt…  my head throws back again.  It takes me again.  My heart screams and my body is floating, flying.  My skin is burning now as I imagine slicing more cuts on my thighs, each cut eaiser than the one before.  My body exploding in pain and pleasure and release.  I’m drunk, I’m flying.

More pain, more pleasure.

always… until my eyes open.

My breath slows, my body comes to its senses.  It’s quiet.  Its dark. where am I?

I’m alone.  My skin is dry, clean.  Untouched save for the sweat dripping from my pores. My heart is pounding though- I can hear it..

thomp bomp… thomp bomp.

Eyes closed again.  It was a dream… there’s no blood, no blade.

Just me and my heartbeat.

thomp bomp

Posted in: Erotica, Fantasy by badbadgirlx 1 Comment , ,

Tristan Taormino’s Rough Sex from Babeland

What is it that I’ve always liked about rough sex?  I think since I first started having sex I’ve always enjoyed it to be more aggressive than just the kind gentle love making that happens in movies.  I dreamed about rough sex before I ever had it- and of course now, my ‘rough sex’ tastes are now… well… rougher.

When I saw the title of this movie (that is very overdue for the review) I got from Babeland it for two reasons- one, The Title.  Rough Sex.  I’ve decided that vanilla porn bores me and I need to see people really goin at it.  Two because of Tristan Taormino.  I really enjoyed her “Guide To” series and I’m STILL in the process of reading her amazing book “Open”  She’s a name I trust.

So I watched this movie-appreciating the actors commentary before each scene although to me I wasn’t sure until I looked at other reviews later if they were talking about thier own fantasies or if it was a set up for the scene… actors pretending to be real life couples having sex.

The very last scene, and what I really think is worth the cost of the whole damn DVD is the final scene with Sasha Grey.  The scene opens with her and her partner negotiation how they are going to play over a game of pool.  It all seems simple and casual enough, as most scene negotiations tend to be, although they are discussing switching and you aren’t really sure who is going to top or bottom.

As they start getting in to it- the clothes start peeling and such you are still not totally sure who is topping yet.  Looks like him, he is grabbing her by the throat and such… but then wait, she’s getting very aggressive back.  Now he’s fucking her mouth…

wait..

have you ever SEEN Sasha Grey suck cock before?  Wow, I mean… wow.  That is a sight to see.  She has no gag reflex, but also doesn’t look like she’s trying very hard.  Effortless blowjobs, not even that weird silent gag thing.  It’s beautiful and I was envious.  And her partner also had quite an amazing cock to take in.  Envious yes.  I don’t usually get off just from watching blow jobs, but man… that girl.

So there’s the back and forth between them.  The switching, the taunting.  The damn hot dirty talk.  Even the spitting…  fucking hot.

As someone who does enjoy a little aggression with her fucking, this was the hottest scene in the movie, by far one of the hottest scenes I’ve scene… anywhere.

Thank you Tristan, for brings such hot sex to my porn DVD collection.  I seriously owe you a drink!



e[lust] #18

HNT Courtesy of Barefoot Dreamer – Photo by Jon H.

Welcome to e[lust] - Your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you’re looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you’re going to find it here. Want to be included in e[lust] #19? Start with the rules, check out the schedule and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~

Off Limits for 30 Days“You don’t listen very well,” I heard her hiss. “That’s off limits, damn you.” And there was a crack and fiery agony clawed into my back.

The Joy of Sucking CockI wonder at times if that is why I am such a “good little cocksucker” as W calls me. When I am deeply into it, I almost enter this place where I am both the sucker and suckee, and it is as though it is MY cock being sucked on.

This intensity gets me riled when I am tied up (photo story)James picked up that evil strap again. I watched helplessly as he positioned himself to use it on my pussy… Ever so lightly he started. Flick, flick, flick.

~ e[lust] Editress ~

Ask Lilly: How do I know if a sex toy has phthalates in it?The studies going around are saying that phthalate exposure can damage all sorts of organs, and can possibly cause cancer. There are a lot of harmful things in our world these days that we can’t avoid – so when we CAN avoid something like toxins in our sex toys, we should.

~ Featured Post (Lilly’s Pick) ~

Portal. Confession #493It truly is a spiritual give and take, these sexual relationships I form. I can cross the threshold and see however much of someone that I choose to see, with whomever it is that I am involved with.

See also: Pleasurists #88 and #89 for all your sex toy review needs.

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Defying Gravity with Carrie Moon

Interview with Dylan Ryan

Is “The Smoking Jacket” a Smoking Gun?

Naked and Famous

That’s discrimination! -or- Two Words I’m Sick of Hearing

Very Deserved Wrath- Not So New Problems

Kink & Fetish

10 Things I Love About My Slave

A Rope Pride Flag?

At Last

Correlations

dutch part 6 – the finale!

Discovering DebPorn

Independence Day

Kinkster Me

No Mosquito Fetish Here

Our First Play Time – Part 1

Please

Post Exploratorium HNT

Sex and Kink

Subspace

Thoughts on Single Tailing

THIS is what happens to naughty little redheaded sluts…

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

A Declaration of Independence — From the eXes

Ass to Mouth

Bi The Way – Male Bisexuality and Swinging

Don’t Beat Yourself Up

Euphemisms

Flying The Red Flag

Natural Born Swingers

Partnerships

Transtastic: On Coming Out as a Political Act

The Ins & Outs of Anal Sex

The Cialis Effect

Unusually High Sex Drive

Where is My G Spot?

Why Won’t Anyone Respond? — Help for Your Swinger Inbox

Erotic Writing

Adventures in Fisting

A Collision of Desires

boo full

Creature of habit pt. 3

Flashback: Our First Time

Fred

Fantasy: Australia Day

Good Morning

Get Down, Dirty & Get The Hell Out

I want…

Licked to orgasm

Sweat & Summer

Sparkly Vamp Erotica

The Ordeal (part one)

Upstairs. Now.

Wrestle

Posted in: elust by badbadgirlx No Comments

Where my heart is- HNT

Happy HNT…

Posted in: Erotica by badbadgirlx 12 Comments

it feels like this…

Posted in: D/s by badbadgirlx 2 Comments

surrender

Since early on in my relationship with Sir he had control over my orgasms.  He didn’t necesarily ASK for this- although it wasn’t until he brought up the topic that it even entered my mind.  At the time, sex had become a dangerous pasttime and I was more than happy to have someone reel me in as I was unable to do that for myself.  After a few weeks, maybe a month it- I was so intoxicated by the haze that it became much harder for me to enjoy my orgasms, unless he was giving them to me.

So the decision was made that I would ask permission, and really he never said no.  Sometimes I would forget to ask until he was already asleep.  Once I did it anyway and paid the price for it later.  In general though, there was a certain draw to even my orgasms and my pleasure being owned by someone else.

Tonight- in the midst of this breakup that has me crawling on the floor searching for scraps of my sanity, I came across my Hitachi.  Ok, it’s under my pillow, but you know what  mean.  I held it in my hand, thinking to myself, ‘this doesn’t belong to him anymore.’  I reached in my panties and found my cunt feeling dry and completely unnoticed.  Sex was not even a factor in my broken heart.  For as much as BDSM is about sex, well nobody really talks about ‘the return of the control over your orgasms’.  I know a sub who hasn’t been allowed to masturbate for her own pleasure in years.  I wonder how much trauma would come from her first time masturbating on her own, simply because she wanted to and there wasn’t anyone to tell her she couldn’t.  I say trauma, because for me- I knew that this was going to to hurt.  Perhaps if I had walked away, it would be something different.

Since I was already laying down in bed from my last fit of tears I simply slipped off my pants and rubbed the head of the hitachi over my clit.  I didn’t turn it on, but the feeling of it- the mere act of doing this- knowing that, well, nobody gave a good god damn about it was heart wrenching to me.  I usually think of him while masturbating.  I think of us together and well, he didn’t even want to see me the last time he could- so this was not exactly a turn on.  When I turned it on, my body jolted at the violent and invading buzz.  I quickly turned it back off… the tears came hard and loud.  I was sobbing and couldn’t breathe.

I was betraying my own body.  I felt that it was too soon and that I was too fragile.  What if I did tell him and he was somehow unhappy.  No… he doesn’t love you.  I told myself this again and again.  Through streaming tears, he doesn’t love you.  I turned it back on and whispered to myself, to him.

You don’t own me anymore.

Many times I would tell him what he owned, naming off body parts and functions and all the things that displayed my physical submission to him.  It made me feel good to reinforce my gift, and it gave him confidence to know that I trusted him with such things.

You don’t own me anymore.

The violent buzz of the toy filled the room.  I pressed it hard above my clit- allowing the vibrations to go deep down into my skin where I’m usually too sensitive to take it for long.  The orgasm was not as quick to come as usual, and the unwanted pleasure turned into a comforting painful burn.

You dont… own me… anymore.

The words came out in broken gasps between tears.  My legs were starting to hurt and my hands were starting to ache from holding and pressing it so tight against my cunt.  I knew that it was there beneath the surface.  Something in my brain was not letting go.  I was disobeying my Master.  I was being a very bad girl… and well, wait.  no…

You DON’T own me anymore.

You don’t want me anymore.

I was running over in my head all the words spoken tonight- more hurtful words.  Painful confessions that may be the truth but tore my sub heart into 1000 peices.  How can I be this easy to leave?  How can he just walk away ?  He loved me, I know he did.  Didn’t he?  No.  My broken heart was in control now.  Thereis no logic to heartbreak.

You don’t own me anymore.

I said it again and again, now forcing the Hitachi over my cunt, painfully.  Dragging it over and owned cunt that still had yet to respond properly to the stimulation.  No, I control my body now.  Me.  I cried outloud.  Taking long deep breaths to exhale the pain in my chest.  Envisioning all the red anger and rage moving out into the void.  Inhaling in blue cool surrender.

Mine.  I said to myself.  That word he said to me so many hundreds of time.  But no, not anymore.  MINE.  This is mine.  This body is mine.  This sex is mine.  You don’t want it- you can’t have it.  Not yours.  Mine.

You don’t own me anymore.

I pressed the vibrator hard against my cunt now- forcing my body to obey ME.  Forcing my sex to return to MY senses.  I opened my legs wide and let it burn.  Hard hot painful fire down to my toes and back again.  The peak finally hit me as I screamed out into the quiet night.  I rocked and cradled it.  Fucked the painful surrender while the grip on my chest loosened for brief moments before clamping down like a vice again taking my breath away to that painful discomfort that I know so well.

I turned it off and threw it across the room.  I curled into a ball and cried again.  I don’t know what it proved.  My heart is still in 1000 pieces and I still feel lost and broken and empty.  I don’t know what good it did but I know that it doesn’t matter to anyone but me.

And I don’t want to think about that.

Posted in: Erotica by badbadgirlx 7 Comments , ,

from ‘owned’ to ‘on my own’

Nothing feels good.

Everything leaves me feeling cold and lost and uncertain.  Things have… changed.

I didn’t see it coming, although the writing has been on the wall for a very long time.  It was just a matter of time before  the blaring colors and the neon lights could no longer be ignored.  From the moment I met Sir I have been lost in an amazing space filled with more than I could have imagined.  I’ve grown and learned and loved.  I’ve been showered with more attention, care, energy, passion and love than I can recall in the purest fashion.  I’ve touched parts of my psyche that I buried and allowed places that I wanted hidden away to be exposed in front of people I love.  I have experienced a level of trust and comfort that I never thought possible.

I’ve been a submissive to a wonderful man whom I love dearly.

Often times people come into our lives just for a short spell.  To get you from point A to point B.  It sucks.  There’s no easy way to say, “your usefulness is over” or “I just don’t love you anymore.”  The fact is those things are not even true.  My journey began late at night last November has grown from two people finding each other in the dark to some of the most intimate moments I can ever recall sharing.  His journey began months before.  Our journeys continue, but perhaps not together.

For all the strength and ‘warm feelings’ this post seems to be displaying, I can assure you that I am a complete mess.  I am beside myself with grief and loss comparable to the death of a loved one.  This piece of my heart feels ready to shut down forever.  I feel stupid and childish for thinking that it could be different for me.  For thinking that perhaps I somehow deserved something so wonderful.  I feel foolish in front of my peers because I suspect they all saw the writing on the wall.  The truth is, I can’t remember anything that has hurt this much and probably because it came with, what seems like, no warning.  When communication breaks down in a relationship, it’s as good as lies being told.  When people in a relationship stop talking, then the rules you have set up no longer apply.  Somewhere along the lines, we stopped being Sir and Pet, and we started being boyfriend and girlfriend- and we made the tragic mistake that we made in both of our previous relationship.  We stopped talking.  We had no foundation for this relationship other than the D/s relationship that we built.  It was good, it was strong.  It was enough to get us through many rough nights and insecurities and sometimes it was even enough to get us through the 3000 miles between us.

When real life problems happen-it can’t be solved with a spanking.  It can’t be solved by the Evil Stick or orgasm denial or even a firm talking to.  Being physically controlled is not going to help me deal with husbands addiction or my apartment being broken in to, and a blow job isn’t going to help him deal with aging parents and college bound children.  No- to support each other through real life stressors, we need a relationship that is based on the two people that come before the D/s roles.  While I love him with all my heart and I would do anything to be that person- we just can’t make that happen backwards.  We are building an airplane in the sky.

Somewhere in the midst of learning about service and submission I completely lost myself.  I became dependent on his care and approval.  I suspect he became dependent on the way I needed him.  It gave us strength and made us feel good- however, that kind of dependency can’t be an every day thing.  When troubles arose for him, instead of being able to back off and stand on my own- I felt slighted, and weak and suspicious.  I suspect he felt overwhelmed, maybe even resentful that the girl he knew was no longer the strong submissive he wanted.  When troubles arose for me, he couldn’t help and he went through feelings of remorse, guilt and frustration because he couldn’t help me.  All of a sudden I couldn’t function without his approval and he couldn’t function knowing that I couldn’t be helped.  It’s a vicious cycle, codependency, and while I have a lot of experience with it- I didn’t realize that it was such a pitfall in BDSM relationships.  I didn’t even see it coming until it was too late.

So now that real life has knocked me out of our warm comfy space, we are trying to hold on to each other, but knowing that we can’t really go forward with making some major changes.  My instinct is to do anything to save it.  My impulses tell me to grab on to his ego.  His impulses are telling him that I’m hanging on too tight and he needs to let me go to stop hurting me.  The thought of losing him has sent me into a horrendous tailspin.  All the things that I’m feeling are most likely not real, but I feel them regardless.  I’m feeling abandoned and disposed of like yesterdays garbage because my usefuless is over.  Every voice I had before I met him is screaming at me, “I told you so!!”  and I have spend long hours curled into a ball, crying myself to sleep, pleading to make the hurt go away, begging Sir to not leave.  I’ve used all the coping methods I know, and a few new ones.  I’ve drank, smoked and drugged away the pain only to find myself self destructive in a way that I don’t like.

Part of me wants to throw myself to his feet and plead with him not to leave me.  My little girl is devastated at the thought of losing Daddy and thinking that I won’t ever trust him or any one else again.  I wonder if I can even be in a BDSM relationship again.  Perhaps I should give away all my bondage toys, and remove myself from the Kink Scene all together.  Perhaps I should just go back to slutting around and keeping my heart very far away from people.  Perhaps I should just get back together with my husband.  Perhaps I should just swear off of men.  Mostly, I want to plead with him not to leave me and beg him for a chance to make it right, to be better.

As days go by and I get more advice from my friends and would-be mentors, I see that no amount of “Yes Sir” was going to stop this train from reaching this destination.  I have said that we don’t do well outside of the D/s space, but really- we spent a lot of time just getting to know each other while we played.  Talking about what we wanted from life and love.  I really was never sure that he was ‘the one’ for me or vice versa- but I knew, for certain, that having him in my life made it better.  It made ME better and that to me was worth any confusion about an uncertain future that we simply weren’t ready for anyway.  I never thought that the momentum of our relationship could last, that it would eventually have to settle down from this fast and furious pace.  I guess I just thought that despite all the warnings, that we loved each other enough to figure it out and keep moving ahead.  I thought we were on the same page but I guess I was wrong.  I don’t blame him, not for everything- but I can’t take all the blame either, even though my reaction is to do that.  My reaction is to apologize and say I’m sorry and promise to be better. Promise to- anything…. but it doesn’t work that way, and thank god while I feel like I WANT to make these pathetic gestures of drama- I also know enough to know that it won’t help and it shouldn’t help.

So now we are on opposite sides of this relationship- unsure how to proceed.  What is the best next move?  Do we wait it out and see if things settle down, do we bump fists declare it a good game and go our separate ways, or do we try to find something in between?

For now, something in between seems the kinder, gentler way.  A wise friend called it ‘relationship aftercare’  – in that we can still be friends, be in each others lives, help when things get too rough but separate that constant need for connection that has become so unhealthy for me. We have talked about it, and hopefully we have a direction that leads us to a friendship with maybe some of the benefits we enjoy- without all the tears.  It hurts when you find out that someone doesn’t love you the way you thought they did- and that is something I’m going to have to get over.  However, the thought of my life without him in it just doesn’t seem real, at least right now- as no matter what, there was a connection there- something amazing and magical. Something that just doesn’t happen every day.

Just like the phone call we had, I’m afraid to end this post.  Afraid that putting the words out there make it real.  And everyone knows, once it’s ‘real’ what do you do with it??

(posted with His permission, in case you were wondering)

Posted in: Erotica by badbadgirlx 10 Comments ,