Bad Bad Girl

According to him
I’m beautiful, incredible, he can’t get me out of his head.

According to him
I’m funny, irresistible, everything he ever wanted.~Orianthi

Happy Half Nekkid (almost Friday) Thursday.

Sequin seduction corset from Eden Fantasys

My first time holding an Njoy was at the NYC Sex Blogger Calendar weekend in 2008.  Dangerous Lilly brought her Pure Wand for me to look at (and maybe hold).  This was the same time I was introduced to the Njoy Eleven.  I didn’t use a Pure Wand until last year when I finally bought one.  I knew that wanted a Pure Plug- so imagine my delight and surprise when I won 0ne from Babeland!

I’ve used it a handful of times since I have received it, but I thought I would share my most “interesting” time with it.  Sir likes me to wear it, whenever he feels that I need to be reminded of his ownership.  When he feels I need focus at work, or when he just feels like telling me to put something in my ass.  I had only used it once before I went to visit him.  I brought it with me and he made sure to tell me that I would be wearing it whenever he felt he wanted me to wear it and that he would be inserting and removing it for me.

ummm- what?

Look, I love anal just as much as the next girl, and I can handle the occasional less than pleasantness.  I mean- lets not pretend here, right?  However, the thought of me, well, bending over while he basically looks up my ass.  Oh good lord.  I pained about this for days before the trip but ultimately decided that the decision was not really mine to make, I would go with the flow and hope for the  best.

As we got ready to go to Arisia, he said, “Pet, bring me your plug- I’d like you to wear it.”

I went to my bag and grabbed it, handed it to him and sort of smiled, raising my eyebrows in a ‘you’re not REALLY going to make me do this are you?’ sort of way.  He kissed my nose and told me to turn around and bend over.

uuuuuughh….  did it have to be so, clinical?

I did, after reminding him to use generous amounts of lube and perhaps warm it up a little bit?  He did the former, not the latter. I was glad I was not looking at him, because while there was a certain level of hot Dom control going on, I still had that feeling that he was just looking up my ass.  I really hate that.

The Pure Plug goes in very easily, and while it LOOKS quite large, it really isn’t.  The rounded tip makes it go in quite easily, and the longer shaft and the curved handle nestles nicely between my cheeks.  It went in cold, and quickly adjusted into place.  I  stood up, feeling the weight of it- all 7 ounces.  Think about that 7 ounces,  that’s almost half a pound.  The average iPhone weighs just under 5 ounces.  a regulation billiard ball, weighs 5.5 to 6 ounces,  now try walking around with THAT in your ass.  And that, my friends, is the MEDIUM sized plug.  There’s a large one, that is 11 ounces.  (TWO billiard balls) and the Pure Plug 2.0 that comes it at an impressive 1.3 pounds!  Anyway,my 7 ounces is comfortable.  You can walk around with it in, which I did for several hours at a time over my time with him.  Every time he did insert it for me, but I was able to remove it on my own because we were usually in public and I would go to the ladies room, where he was not allowed.

I find that it’s less comfortable for long periods of time when you are walking around.  I much preferred having it in at the play party, rather than walking around a convention.  I do love it, and I keep it in my purse at all times so when Sir wants to be “in my ass” he just tells me to put it in.

NJoy toys are pricey, but this is definitely a situation where you get what you pay for.  For a butt plug, it’s comfortable, easy to insert and remove.  It’s non porous and did I mention how beautiful it is??

Thanks to Babeland for sending me this awesome butt plug!  I love it!!!

Cross Posted from EdenCafe

For many years, you’ve known me as Bad Bad Girl.  It was never meant to be a name, or a handle.  It was the name of the blog.  When I first started writing, I did a lot of writing in first person.  Talking to “you”  So I didn’t use a name.  I made one up for a while, but it never stuck.  Many of you have watched me go through relationships.  The ups and downs of my marriage. Many of you pick up in the middle, and my life, like any soap opera does not need too much introduction.  You can pick it up anywhere.  Follow along for a few episodes and your about caught up.  The slut drama is always good entertainment.   I am usually more than happy to be your hostess.

I’ve have changed though.  My readers see it.  It’s hard to miss.  I belong to someone now.  I’m in a D/s relationship that makes me truly happy, even if it is from a distance.  I’m owned and wanted and special to someone and it has changed the way I see myself.  I see myself that way he sees me.  Or at least I try to.  There are times that he refers to me as Bad Bad Girl, and I admit- I don’t like it.  I don’t like, almost cringe that he would see me like that.  That shameless slut who was fucking random men I met on Adult Friend Finder and sites like that.  No, I’m not that girl anymore.  Anymore?  Well, who knows.  I’m sure it would be easy to fall back to those ways- but I don’t know.  I feel different, and I just can’t see myself climbing in the back seat of my car with someone who wasn’t at least my friend.  Someone who would at least send me a text message on my birthday, assuming they knew when my birthday was.

I have been wrapping things up with the men who I felt deserved it.  Some doors are still slightly open, as I don’t think that Sir and I will be monogamous at this distance forever.  However, it is all very well established that I am not ‘on the fuck market’ right now- and the few that doors are open with, understand, respect and are happy for me.  The ones who don’t deserve it, they probably haven’t noticed my absence.  It’s not surprising.

There are two relationships that where the door is still somewhat open if I choose to venture out.  I’m in no rush to jump into bed with him, but Jack is someone that I enjoyed the company of.  For the 45 minutes that we would spend fucking, there were 3 to 4 hours of talking.  He’s someone I respect.  The Brit, is the same way- he’s just a good guy.  Since I told him about my relationship with my Sir- he has been friendly and supportive.  He stops by my office at least once a week and offers to pick me up a soda from the vending machine.  Those men I would call friends.  Those men I would not be ashamed to tell Sir that I was going to spend time with, sexual (probably not) or otherwise.

I won’t go over the list of men, but I did give him a list.  A list of the men who I considered worth my time, and why.  It’s a hard thing to try to justify why someone is worth your time when you have spent a long time feeling that you were not worth theirs.  Part of my submission is standing with my chin up and valuing myself.  Strange that I would need someone to remind me that I should do this, and why.  My friends have been telling me this all along.  Of course, often times we find that our friends don’t have any answers either.  We are equally screwed up and our self esteems are closely on the same level, sometimes it just manifests in different ways.

As the months have passed, I find myself much more in control.  I have less ’shame’.  I’m not on the hunt for emotional gratification that I seemed to create out of sex.  I can look at it now, and see that if I wasn’t yet, I was on my way towards sex addiction.  My destructive behavior stems from some disturbing revelations I’ve have about my father, my co-dependent relationship with my soon to be ex husband and abandonment issues that festered in both.  These are things I am working through, with myself, in discussions with friends, family- and maybe a professional.  Maybe.

The last thing I needed to get rid of  was photographic evidence.  Proof of my dirty little secrets.  Somewhere along the line, in order to prove that I didn’t care about my behavior, I started taking pictures of it.  Lots of pictures, with lots of men.  All of them really.  I kept them in an online file folder- right next to my school work.  Lately it has been an ugly nagging reminder.  Every time I open the file to retrieve my homework, I’m looking at the icons of pictures of me with cock in my mouth- cum on my face, you get the gist.  I thought to delete them, but I’m not sure what held me back.  I knew I wouldn’t look at them with any sense of fondness.  I wouldn’t use them for anything.  They were just there.

They were taunting me.  Haunting me like the ghosts of sluts past.  Part of me rationalized that I should not get rid of them just cause I have a new man in my life.  It is part of my story.  A part of my journey.  My whole blog is just a graphic recount of tales, erotic, funny and dysfunctional.  I may have made some things up, but I didn’t leave anything out.  Sure I can hide behind “ficton”- but not when there’s picture.  No, the pictures are color reminders of a downward spiral.  I discussed this dilemma with my Dom.  I told him how I felt about the pictures- that some are somewhat artistic, but some are just graphic and shameful.  He asked me to show him one.  Show him what behavior I thought was shameful.  I went to the folder and opened it, looking through the pictures and realizing that I was disgusted and ashamed.  That I needed to be rid of this.  The fact that I asked these men (some of whom I hardly recall) to take pictures.  That I saved them.  That I felt a rather LARGE folder for them.  It was twisted.  Not that keeping pictures of lovers is wrong.  However, these pictures represent a person I don’t want to be anymore.  They represent sadness, depression, disrespect, self loathing, self destruction.

I sent him the link, with the log in and password.  Then I called him.  I asked him, “Sir will you please remove them for me.  I just can’t seem to do it myself.  It’s not me anymore.  Please do not judge me.  It’s not who I am.  It not who I ever want to be again.  I don’t ever want to see them again.  Please”

He heard the tears and quieted me.  ”Yes Pet. I will take care of it.”

It was like a huge weight was lifted.  He would simply take away what I did not want to carry anymore.  I have said so many times that he simply lightens my emotional burden.  He  didn’t tell me how many he saw.  He didn’t comment on the photos or the videos. He said nothing about it at all.  After a few minutes of silence, I saw pop up windows for the application telling me folders had been changed.  He said, “It’s done Pet.  It’s over now.”

Just like that, I’m new again.  I don’t have those nasty reminders telling me I’m no good.  I don’t have to worry when I go to do my homework that someone is going to see my cum splattered face.  I behave in a way I don’t have to be ashamed of.  I don’t have to justify or make excuses for it.  With some trust, some bravery and a few clicks.

All of that mess is gone now.  It’s behind me.

This review is long overdue.  I’m a bad, bad blogger…  So because it’s late- and my dear wonderful friends at TabuToys are so wonderful and patient with me, I want you all to go over there and buy something, ok??   If you don’t need anything, buy something for me!

I know, those boots right??

So anyway- On  my FIRST webcam date nights with Sir, I wore this.  The Red Lace Chemise.  I wasn’t sure of his taste in lingerie other than corsets.  I figured you can’t go WRONG with red lace because it’s see through.  This one is a queen size that lay perfectly on me.  It was not too clingy, and didn’t hang off either.  It comes up high enough that I could wear it as a camisole with a low cut sweater.

While Sir prefers my lingerie in a crumpled ball on the floor, he did very much enjoy this one.  He said it’s ‘feminine and sexy- now take it off!”

The straps tie around my neck.  I love that!!!

The trim is so pretty, I can wear it underneath something.

Ok, I had to pull it up a little for this picture- but nobody is complaining!!

I guess it had it’s desired effect because I was out of it in no time.  I think if lingerie doesn’t make your man say/ think, “ok lets get that off of you”- it’s not doing exactly what it should!

Thank you to TabuToys for sending this and I’m sorry it took SO long to finish.  Trust me, it’s been put to good use.

Reposted from New York City Sex Bloggers Calendar.  I’m so very excited about this and I have every intention on submitting a photo.

Amazing artwork, Map of Canada and the US,  by Oupelay on DeviantArt, please check out the rest of his fantastic gallery.

You’ve just flipped the January  page on your 2010 Sex Blogger Calendar, whispered a fond farewell to the lovely Mia Martina, and greeted the awesome Abiola Abrams, who graces February’s page, and here I am about to talk to you about 2011.  If it seems early to you, you’re not alone; it seems early to me too.  But 2011 is going to be a bigger and better year, hopefully for all of us, and certainly for this amazing project that started as a whim, a fun project with friends that would benefit our sex positive community, one balmy summer night.

Many of you, after seeing our fabulous calendar or coming to our kick-ass launch party, expressed an interest in being a model.  We heard you and we want to give you the opportunity to be even more involved.  So for 2011, we’re going NATIONAL!  Yes, you heard it right, the NYC SexBlogger Calendar wants to be even more inclusive in 2011.  We want any sex positive blogger/internet personality - male, female, gay, straight, queer, trans, any race, any orientation, any size - who writes/podcasts/video blogs about sex or sexuality to feel free to submit a photo.  While our 2010 models are free to submit a photo, we’d like nothing better than to get thirteen brand new faces and their accompanying hot bods. I’ll get into those details in a moment, but that’s not the only change we’ve made.

For the last two years, the calendar proceeds have gone to Sex Work Awareness and allowed them to fund Speak Up!, a one day seminar in 2009 that expanded to a weekend in 2010.  We are so proud to have provided the funding for those events.  Megan Andelloux, in her fight with the town of Pawtucket, RI to open her adult sex education facility, The Center for Sexual Pleasure and Health, used the training she received last year which helped her win battle and CSPH is now open for business. This year, we’re thrilled to announce that the funds raised by the calendar will go toWoodhull Freedom Foundation. Woodhull Freedom Foundation Affirms SexualFreedom as a Fundamental Human Right!

We’ve known of and been supportive of WFF but when we met and talked with the board members and advisory committee of WFF at their fundraiser, a diverse group including the fabulous Carol Queen, we were really impressed with them, their professionalism and their goals.  WFF has a broader focus than SWA and we want our little calendar to benefit all kinds of sexual freedom.  In changing core attitudes, defining sexual freedom as a basic human right, sex workers too will reap benefits.

Now, how do you submit a photo and what is expected if we pick you to be in the 2011 calendar?

First, you email us one or more professional quality photo that represents what sexual freedom means to you or how you express your sexual freedom.  The photo is to be 12 x 12 (this is SQUARE, people, be sure to let the photographer know this in advance of shooting, most photos are rectangular, so the photographer has to look with a different eye in order to shoot for square artwork).   The format will be CMYK, 12 x 12 full bleed, 300 DPIx 12 full bleed image. If you’d like to discuss concepts before working with a photographer, please email me at Tess@tiedupevents.com

Along with your photo, please send a short bio and a short (or long, if you’re feeling particularly verbose on the topic) post talking about how your photo represents your sexual freedom.  We would like all entrants to be able to attend our launch party on November 5, 201o in NYC, this is one reason we’re giving you all so much notice, so that plans can be hatched and funds reserved.  You’ll be required to post a button on your site that links to the calendar blog and once chosen, we’ll provide a special button for models.

Because we want to also support our economy as well as our fundamental right to sexual freedom, despite our difficulties last year, we are committed to printing the calendar in the US of A, we’re not sure how much nudity we can get away with.  If you feel like baring it all, we’re right there with you but we also need to be realistic about what we can get printed, so please give us some softer options.  Last year, the mere sight of nipples in two photos caused a printer, even in this economy, to turn down the job.

Please include in your email any suggestions you have for promoting the calendar and WFF on your site -contests, etc. Working with us in promoting the calendar is an important component of being a part of this project.

Submissions must be received by May 1, 2010.

More details will follow and we’ll post the Photo Submission Guidelines on a separate page so you can review them easily.

In the meantime, if you’d be so kind as to repost this far and wide, from sea to shining sea, we’d be most appreciative.  Let’s get everyone who believes that sexual freedom is a fundamental human right talking and participating in this project and sharing in the fun with us.

Here’s some incentive not to forget.

It’s simply too late to talk about it.  I don’t even want to talk now.  Just push me and take me.  Take my pain by giving it to me.

Tied down and spread out- I wait for the strikes to come.  The sting and the pain, without any warning other than the general knowledge that it’s coming.  No touching, no talking.  Just a harsh finger pointing me down on the bed and the sound of the rope pulling through the loops as it attaches my wrists to the black wire bed frame.

I just can’t take anymore of the ‘real life’ they talk about.  It’s not worth it.  I surrender here.  Pain is my prayer and He is my salvation and I don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks about it.  If you know, you know… if you don’t know- well, I understand why you don’t get it.

I don’t want to feel anymore.  My heart betrays me.  Everything I learned as a child was wrong.  It was a lie.  My father who hurt my sister, my step father who hurt me.  My mother who turned her back to all of it.  Men, dating, marriage- it’s all a bunch of bullshit that eventually comes crashing at my feet and I just can’t breathe anymore.  It’s too much.

So tie me up, Sir, I asked of him without any words.  To save me from the horrible things I want to do to hurt myself.  To be pulled from the edge of my own stupid misery before I do something irrational.  I hate being irrational- and while Bad Bad Girl is the one I have been hiding from, today I’m acutely aware of why she exists in the first place.  So punish me, and beat me today.  So I asked for him to beat my flesh until I bleed- because at least he appreciates my pain.  The strike of the cane, no build up and no warning.  I don’t even cry out- but arch towards it.  Breathing again.  Breathing in the physical pain and exhaling the emotional pain.

Again, I hear it cut through the air before it thwacks on my ass.  A shock runs up my spine, causing me to tilt my head to the side almost in defiance.  Go ahead, get the belt.  I don’t even care.  Push my hard limit and beat me until I cry and scream.  No there’s no negotiation and no safe word, because He knows.  He’ll break me down until my own hateful thoughts are quieted.  Across my ass until he sees the red welts come up, and then the skin breaks.  I almost moan out in a twisted ecstasy that excites and disturbs him.  He strikes again, watching the blood splatter a little.  Please don’t stop.

I  can feel it, and I can feel his own tears burning as they fall on my ass while he beats me.  He feels my pain too.  The moans turn to screams and cries, but I can’t tell if I’m screaming out loud.  I just can’t take much more of this ‘real life’ pain.  It’s overwhelmed me and beat me down.  I give up.

Work out my trauma.

Work out my issues.

Beat the fuck out of me because that is pain I can deal with.  Hurt me until I don’t feel anything else but my stinging flesh.  Then crawl over me- biting at the welts and fuck me.  Hard and violently.  A body made to serve?  Sure, be my guest.  Use this flesh because apparently the rest of me doesn’t matter anymore.  Is he my Master? or simply carrying the message of the men who lied and used and hurt me?  At this moment, my mind sees the latter. How is it possible that the ones who are SUPPOSED to love you, are the ones who hurt you the most.  There’s a reason I closed off my heart.  Beat me until the exposed nerves die.  Cover my mouth and nose until I can’t breathe anymore and my heart stops pumping the betrayal through my veins.  Fuck me until the flesh inside me is raw, the nerves are dead and I feel nothing.

Until I’m still and the demons are gone.  Gone forever.

Then kiss me.  Carry me away and bathe me.  Breathe life back into me and watch the welts, the blood, the demons… disappear into thin air.

If it were just so easy.

Look, an owl!!

It’s been a LONG time since I’ve done my favorite Saturday Morning Porn feature.  But I did come across this trailer for Bitchcraft 7.  It’s a bit on the hardcore side so be prepared for that.

I think after I watch it, I will need to go back and watch ALL the Bitchcraft movies.  Let me know if you’ve seen them.

Bitchcraft 7

enjoy!

It was the end of the evening and we were feeling relaxed and comfortable.  The play party had been fun and exciting and even educational.  I haven’t written too much about it and I will soon, I promise.  This however, was one of the highlights of the evening, and my homework this week was to write about it.

The large conference room was a comfortable setting where there was still some play, but mostly groups sitting and talking.  It was around 2AM and we were sitting on the floor at the side of the room.  The group was about 10 people, Sir and I included.  I was still in just my panties and a sweater, the corset having long been removed when we fucked earlier in the evening.  It was a bitch to get on the first time, I was not about to attempt it a second time.

The conversation was light and fun.  Sex toys, materials and different ways to use the same thing.  We all spoke highly of metal toys like the njoy and fun toys like smart balls and the Hitachi.  One of the guys Oblique, was talking to Sir about making toys, the Hitachi and the dimmer switch. I gave my input about the dimmer and how it’s been reported to not make it less strong, but just a slow incline between low and high. We all went back and forth between praising it and joking about it when Oblique started talking about the Modified Hitachi he made. He had set it to a box that gave it different settings, pulses, strength.

My hitachi slut ears perked up? Strength? He reported that it was about 20% stronger as he pulled it out of his bag. It was a box that was covered in blue and the settings were written in sharpie. Clearly this was the prototype, but we looked at it, turning it on and going through the settings. I can’t remember them all but the standard ones, the build up, or the fade out. slow and fast pulse. Then the steady one- high. Oh yes, it did feel a bit stronger in my hand. a little louder too.  I brazenly purred over it.

I was exhausted as it was now about 2AM, and I had been beaten and fucked and pushed to more orgasms than I thought a girl could safely HAVE in one day- but you know, this was a Hitachi. It’s the orgasm for dummies! Oblique said I was welcome to try it out. The crowd all agreed. I looked at Sir, feeling a bit shy, but then again- just 20 minutes sooner this very same crowd had watched Sir flog my thighs and my tits and my shoulders. We were all friends now…

“Go ahead Pet. Be a good girl.”

He moved so that I was sitting between his legs. He sat up and put one arm around me, his hand on my breast. The other hand was on the controller. We moved through the settings. Each of them getting a reaction from me- both physical and verbal, and sometimes a laugh from the crowd. The setting that started high and faded down, made me jump. You never quite knew WHEN it was going to start- and then it immediately started to fade down to nothing. Then BAM it starts again. The small crowd laughed and I felt Sir laughing with them. The setting that built up was nice. It didn’t build too slowly, but didn’t stay high long enough. “Just long enough to piss you off when it goes away,” I said. More laughter.

The intermittent pulses, the patterns, I didn’t care for but the steady fast pulse was nice. Not enough to get me to orgasm, but definitely enough to make me start to beg for the last setting. When he set it, my voice made a shocked, “ahh” that melted to an obscene gutteral “aaaauummm.” I felt Sirs other hand on my hip now and he leaned in and nibbled at my ear. I closed my eyes now, but wasn’t completely able to drown out the voices of the people talking. There was a “wow” and an “oh my..” It was the Hitachi alright, but a little more juice- and in front of a crowd. I let my legs fall open, where they were once bent and I leaned back into Sir. I wonder what he must have been thinking. His slut, and all these strangers watching her get off.

I let the big vibrating ball find it’s way to my sweet spot and I sunk down into it. My body starting to shake and tremble and my whimpers becoming moans and curses.

Oh fuck, fuck, fuck… oh my god. ohhh fuuuuuuuck.  yessssss yes oh fuck yess…..

My body bucked and my whole body trembled.  All I felt was the Hitachi in my hand and Sir’s hand still firmly on my breast.  The rest of me was me was hot liquid.

I kept my eyes closed while I recovered and the “oh my god” that came out of someone’s mouth reminded me that there were people watching me.  I opened my eyes and giggled sweetly.  ”Oh hi!”  I said outloud.  Everyone laughed.  One guy said, “That was re-eally hot!”

I leaned back and Sir took my mouth in his, kissing me.  Proud of his girl.