Apr 092011

As I have been developing the whole NaughtyPoint system, I realized that not only could I assign points for transgressions, but I could additionally use them as incentive to encourage SexFairy to accomplish certain goals.

A primary goal of mine, and less of hers, is to include other people in our sexual adventures. Since it’s less of a desire for her, I came up with a NaughtyPoint strategy. For the first month we don’t include another person(s) in our sex play, she gets assigned one point. If we reach the end of the second month, she will be assigned two additional points. Third month, three additional points. The math therefore could lead her to accumulate FIVE NaughtyPoints over three months from sheer lack of motivation and action.

Now being a good obedient SexFairy, she has no desire to accumulate points (unlike some sexually submissive women we know, ahem, Molly, aka digging yourself a hole).

Megan Fox Hell Yes
Yesterday, SexFairy started a flirty text with a sexy younger friend of hers. Let’s just say, by sometime after midnight, SexFairy had her “other people” Naughty Points reset back to zero for May.

The details of THAT sexual adventure, I’ll save for a second post, which I guarantee will be far hotter, with far less math, outside of M + F + F = :)

PS – if anyone would like to contribute their time and energy, and some sweat and heavy breathing, to assist SexFairy in avoiding these NaughtyPoints, please don’t hesitate to let us know. It’s for a good cause after all.


Apr 072011

Whitman and I were talking last night, and I began to reminisce about our first date(s). Somehow, rapidly (but not shockingly) the conversation turned to sex. We were talking about the new Naughty Points system that he instituted, and I told him how surprised I was by it.
I also told him how glad I was that he surprised me with it. And how hot it made me.

I earned points before I even knew we had a point system! He posted here about it, and I read the rules along with the rest of the world. It was perfect that way – the Whitman Sneak Attack. I had no time to ponder, dwell, or fret over the impending system. It caused me to IMMEDIATELY snap to attention, and focus my mind on HIM/us/my wet cunt. (I DO NOW have time to ponder and fret over impending punishments, though… When? What? How much?)

This may seem out of line to some people in D/s relationships where everything is negotiated and spelled out in advance. To me, this was just another example of the perfect evolution of our relationship, and especially the evolution of the KINKY parts of our relationship. It’s like Whitman just KNOWS me…maybe better than I know my SELF (and he’s right. As usual.
I DEFINITELY need some re-training).

I’ve always had a predilection for submissive sex, but shared that with very few people.
I’ve never explored it fully. I wondered out loud to Whitman how it even came up in our relationship. We’ve always been wide open emotionally and sexually with each other. I guessed THAT’S how it came up.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA Whitman, though, reminded me that I had started dropping hints early on, and he took it from there. (He’d grasped my hands in a certain way over dinner…I asked him about it the next day. He claimed it was innocent; I still think he knew what he was doing…even subconsciously).

It has progressed from that ‘innocent’ hand-grab, to light restraint and spanking to heavier restraint, heavier physical torment, sensory deprivation, breath play, denial (of whatever), etc., etc., etc.…
It’s like a never-ending flow of ideas and exploration.
I want it to keep going and growing. Forever.
I want to be everything to him. (We do have a very real relationship OUTSIDE of Dom/sub sex, but it is so fluid. We move from one to the other and back effortlessly.)

69_in_contemplation_lrgRight now, I want to explore further a service-oriented submission…kneeling at his feet, sucking his cock while he works, doing his bidding at mealtimes, crawling, corseted on hands and knees to bring him the belt to spank me. You know, just regular stuff. ;) I want to get to a really deep place of submission…to be able to stop battling with my ‘real world’ self about what’s okay and what’s acceptable, and just let. it. go.

I really, REALLY want to get to a place where I can FULLY appreciate his pleasure for just what it is, and focus on that… For instance, if he WANTS or NEEDS to have sex with someone else, (or wants ME to have sex with someone else, for that matter), I want to WANT THAT for him. That part might take me a while, but I’m working on it.

Mar 172011

Just  like I am about sex, I’m also very open minded about music. Rock, rap, trance, country, whatever, I like it. Whitman likes all kinds of music, too…rock, folk, opera, whatever. He has, however, declared a blanket dislike of country music. I started thinking about this yesterday. I’m not the BIGGEST country fan, but there are times when it’s appropriate. I found Whitman’s closed-mindedness on the subject unusual, and determined to talk to him about it…out of curiosity, of course. He had other ideas.

When I arrived at his place yesterday evening for our mid-week “conjugal visit,” I had a cocktail, and then started trying to get to the root of his dislike. Is it from unfamiliarity, or he doesn’t like the music, or the lyrics, or what?? How can you NOT LIKE classic Merle Haggard?? Blah, blah, blah…

Fast-forward to cocktail #2, and I was STILL talking about it. Non-stop.
I was on a mission, and just kept on and on AND ON about it, until finally Whitman interrupted,
“Did you bring the gag?”  I paused for the briefest second and thought about it, then replied, “Nope.” I resumed my tirade, following him into the bedroom talking non-stop as he rummaged for something.

He held up what he’d found.
I didn’t have the gag with me because HE HAD IT there already! He walked over to me, and as I continued to babble about music, he popped the gag in my mouth. (It’s more of a PACIFIER than a ball gag, and it served the purpose perfectly). He said, “Most of the time you’re the perfect woman. Right now, you’re talking wayyyy too much.”
Not only was I instantly silenced, I was instantly wet, so very  wet.

He pulled the strap tightly around my head, and all I could do was whimper and suck the gag that filled my mouth while I removed my clothes as instructed. Whitman did express some disappointment that he wouldn’t be able to fuck my face with this gag in place, but he did enjoy the chance to fuck me everywhere else in peace.

Mar 122011

One of the many (many, MANY, MANY) things that I love about Whitman is that he is dominant in such a sexy way.  It’s instinctive.
In real life he is completely charming and gentlemanly. He is forceful without being overbearing.
In our sex life, he is also completely charming and gentlemanly, and totally forceful without being overbearing.
However…he ALSO knows how to handle me, to speak to me, to look at me.
I’m helpless.

I’m a grownup, sexy (sometimes even HOT), independent woman.
Yet  I give myself completely to this man.
I want to fulfill his every desire.
I become his toy, his tool, his fairy making wishes come true.
I am his.

Here is what is so very hot to me: He doesn’t feel the need to boast about this power, or tell how he can force (“encourage” in his own special way) me to do naughty and humiliating things.
He certainly CAN share stories at any time, and I’m sure he WILL eventually.
But it’s not a NEED.

He can control me completely at any time, with just a look a word, or a motion.
He knows. I know.

Mar 092011

I was on my belly, and his full weight was on top of me, his hard cock deep inside of me, and his right arm around my neck, gripping my left shoulder. His sexy voice, so deep already, was ragged and rumbly with desire. “The next time I want to fuck another woman, what are you going to do? You’re going to watch. Maybe I’ll tie you to a chair and let you watch me fuck her cunt and her face. Then I’ll cum all in her pussy and let you clean it up. Would you like that? To clean my cum from her cunt with your tongue?” I could only nod. I might have managed a little whimper.

(When Whitman takes control of my body, he takes control of my mind, and my mouth. I can’t talk. I can THINK what I want to say, but it won’t come out. )

He continued, “Then you can clean her juices off of my cock. Maybe I’ll cum on her face instead, and you can clean that up with your mouth. Would you like that?” Again, a whimper and a nod from me. “The next time I see someone I want to fuck, you’re going to go talk to her, and make it happen. If you don’t, I’ll fuck your mouth so hard that you’ll be wishing you HAD done it with every breath that you try to take,” he said. “You’ll be gasping for air while I fuck your face, and you’ll be wishing you had actually put my cock IN HER CUNT, and licked her clit while I fucked her.” I whimpered in agreement.

( I was already breathless with desire at this point, and being pinned under him with pressure on my throat from his forearm only added to my breathlessness. And my desire.)

As he fucked me from behind and growled these directions in my ear, my juices puddled in the bed below me. I was dripping wet, and the more he talked, the wetter I got. I was picturing his gorgeous cock pounding a stranger’s pussy while I helplessly watched. “Maybe I’ll find a couple where the woman is the Dom and you and her man can sit together and watch like good little subs while we fuck.”

The next day he said of our  ‘discussion’ (as he called it – so sexy),
“Tell me quickly what you remember.”  I recounted the story above.
Whitman said, “I’m glad you were listening.”