Friday, December 30, 2011

What I learned in 2011

2011 was my hottest year yet. Here is what I learned over the past twelve very hot months:
  1. I enjoy watersports. A lot.
  2. I have a shy bladder.
  3. Having a hot guy beg me to pee on him helps my shy bladder.
  4. If a woman promises me she won't fuck a man in my life, I should just assume that she will.
  5. While there is a growing and pervasive feeling in the kink community that male subs are devalued, my appreciation for them has grown.
  6. When I'm with the right guy I can orgasm from a bite, breath, even from a look and a nod.
  7. I love being fisted and I'm not afraid to say it.
  8. I thought I wouldn't like using a gag because I enjoy a subs reactions so much but as it turns out, gags are SO much fun.
  9. I love making someone choke on cock. It doesn't matter if I'm pushing a hot girl's head down on a guy's cock or if I'm face fucking a boy with my strap on, I just love it.
  10. People feel compelled to tell me their dirtiest, nastiest fantasies. And realities.
  11. Nothing cheers me up quite like erotica written just for me by the writer.
  12. Nothing makes me hotter than a sub's reactions to me, including fear and anxiety.
  13. There is something about a boy on his back, holding his thighs up and open for me begging for my cock that makes me smile.
  14. I can do monogamy.
  15. Wearing a man's shirt can be sexier than lingerie. Particularly with a strap-on.
  16. Just about everything is better with rope. Except when it's not.
  17. I should probably not date vanilla guys. 
  18. Top space is an amazing drug.
  19. I'm becoming more and more comfortable with not being in charge all of the time and sometimes really enjoy connecting without D/s.
  20. My instincts in regards to play and reading my sub are better nearly perfect and certainly better than my instincts in most other areas of my life.
  21. Sharing is my favorite thing.

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Sharing

For me, a big part of the beauty of the ownership aspect of D/s is that I can share what is mine with others.

I share my sub and it makes me hot to do so.

The first time I shared a sub, it was with two female friends I had brought to his home. We spent an afternoon frolicking naked in his pool, drinking his booze and eating the delicious food he'd prepared and served us while wearing ridiculously frilly panties. Later, he served us an amazing seated dinner while he knelt and ate from dog bowls in the floor. Light play ensued after dinner and although I don't remember all of the details, I do recall at one point of the evening holding his face in my hands so I could watch his expressions as one friend spanked him and played with his ass while she was getting fucked by my other friend wearing my strap on.

Yeah, my friends are pretty awesome like that.

The next time I shared a sub, it was as part of a five hour scene where I allowed a Dom, a male Top and a female Top to play with my female sub. I wanted to physically and emotionally exhaust her and we certainly did. It started with the Dom forcing his cock down her throat while I watched, totally wet, and ended with the female Top and I dp'ing her while the male Top watched. She was blindfolded the entire time, tied up for a large part of the time and deprived of her sense of hearing for most of the scene. She was my toy and I shared her for use and abuse by my friends.

Then, during another debaucherous evening where everyone was naked and I had a female and a male sub there, I decided I wanted nothing more than to watch him to go down on her. I wanted to watch my female sub enjoying the skilled mouth of my male sub, the mouth I knew so well on the delicious pussy I knew so well.

I suggested it, "I'd so enjoy watching you go down on her."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"That would be hot," he said a little nervously.

When he didn't jump right on the opportunity, I tried working it from another angle, "You should really let him lick you. He's the most talented oral I've ever had."

"Whatever you want, Mistress," she responded, always the good girl and particularly anxious to show obedience to me in front of others, particularly him.

But it still didn't happen until I raised my voice. Yeah, I had to yell. "GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW AND LICK HER PUSSY!!! Do NOT make me tell you again!"

She and I were in bed, enjoying each other's nakedness. She was laying in my lap looking up at me when he finally came and knelt between her legs. He looked up at me with the same, soft subby adoration in his eyes as she had in hers.

But he was hesitant still. "Do it," I said sternly.

He started kissing her thighs, eyes locked with mine, while I played with her hair. "Oh Mistress," she moaned as he progressed. Watching him eat her pussy while he maintained eye contact with me, her squirming and moaning in my lap, was so amazingly hot. I could have watched that for hours.

I watched her excitement build and then ebb, her moans fading into sighs, over and over again. She wasn't cumming and I couldn't understand why. I knew from personal experience that he definitely had the skills to make her cum.

And then as I watched her sigh as she slipped from the precipice of orgasm again, I realized what was going on.

"Oh my God! You're edging her, aren't you?"

His mouth left her wet pussy long enough to tell me no and his eyes cut the his right telling me he was lying and that he wanted me to know that.

"YOU LITTLE SHIT. You're edging her!" I laughed. He knew he wasn't allowed to edge me and he was taking it out on her, the other sub in the room who had been arrogantly competitive with him all evening trying to prove she was a better sub than he. And he was winning.

I shared him again at a big party. It started with a very hot little femsub friend of mine almost shivering after a scene she'd had. I pushed her into his arms and told him to warm her up. I ignored his questioning look as he dutifully wrapped his arms around her and I went to find a blanket for us all. The ensuing snuggling turned into groping and pretty soon I was directing him to go down on her while I made out with her and played with her breasts. Right in the middle of the living room of the very large party.

I loved watching him lick her in all of the ways I enjoyed so much. I loved that he made her moan and gasp into my mouth as I kissed her. I loved that we were working together to get her to cum in a fairly public place. I loved sharing him with her.

The last time I shared him, it was in a very very hot threesome with a fairly kinky girlfriend. It began with me showing her how to do a little light CBT. She was a quick learner and clearly a little sadistic.

"Can I slap his face?" she asked me gleefully. She knew what he's into. And I let her. And it was hot.

We ended up in a pile of nakedness that evolved into a nearly traditional threesome with everyone licking, sucking and fucking everyone else. My strap-on made an appearance, at his suggestion, and he couldn't decide which was hotter - me fucking her with it or me getting fucked with it. It was a perfect threesome where no one felt left out. There was no jealousy. Just hotness. Mega hotness.

I've learned that I'm definitely a voyeur. Watching someone that serves me pleasing someone else at my command is even hotter than them serving me directly. 

In every instance I've shared a sub with my friends, there's been a sense of pride in doing so. That they are mine to share is a concept that is off the charts for hotness.

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

My boy, my medieval ken

D/s relationship status: submissive

Relationship status: dating casually

Medieval ken's vast collection of BDSM toys and furniture earned him his nickname in December, 2011. "It's like he's a ken doll that comes with his own tortue accessories," I have said on more than one occasion. He's in his mid forties,  lives in Las Vegas and bites his lip in the most delicious way that shows his dimples when I do evil things to him.

Read blogs about medieval ken.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Truly thankful

On this Thanksgiving Day, I'd like to take a moment to express my gratitude and sincere appreciation for submissive men.

I am truly thankful for submissive men. You are the yin to my yang. Without your desire to submit, I am nothing but an aggressive, kinky bitch with a well stocked bag of sex toys.

I am continually amazed by your strength and courage to relinquish control. I am flattered when you kneel before me and lay your power at my feet. I live for the moments when you set aside your masculinity and own desires to amuse and entertain me just because I ask. You undo me when you melt at my touch, sensual AND sadistic. I love your every reaction to my actions - the gasps, groans and growls, the trembling and wincing - even the way you look at me when you're immersed in subspace.

And I'm entranced by the grace with which you do it all.

Entranced, aroused and truly thankful.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

The Top Lilyana (and nodder) Posts of 2011

I'm super excited to have made the list for Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2011. I moved up to number 17 from last year's number 30 spot! I'm humbled to find myself in the company of some of my favorite sex bloggers - Dominants AND submissives - whose work I follow and admire. Congratulations to them and everyone else who made the list!

I called nodder when I found out I'd made the list. He congratulated me. Then congratulated himself. We both laughed.

Actually, nodder does deserve some credit. Most of my blogs over the past year have been about him.

But you won't see any more about nodder.

He's still around. And we're still, on occasion, creating blog-worthy scenes together. But I will no longer be writing about our deliciousness. That'll be just between nodder and me.

If you are new to my blog, or if you've missed any of the hot posts about our play, here is your opportunity to catch up. The following are (in my opinion) my hottest posts about playing with nodder:

- On planning and satisfying cravings
- 'Saving myself' or 'Maybe I'm not as sadistic as I thought'
- Peeing on nodder

He kissed me

Last week I detailed my first date with a vanilla boy who was too scared to kiss me. Since that night, he's been amazingly cute with his plotting and planning for our second date last night. And of course I haven't missed an opportunity to tease him about missing the opportunity to kiss me.

When I pulled into the parking lot of the trendy restaurant where he'd made reservations last night, he had also just arrived. He barely waited for me to get out of the car before he kissed me.

I couldn't stop grinning.

As we chatted over our dinner menus, I had begun to think that perhaps he was just anxious on our first date. That he'd let anxiety keep him from kissing me.

And then the waitress asked if we were ready to order. "It's up to her. She's in charge," he told her, nodding to me.

I couldn't help smirking when he said that. Or later when he said, "You're the boss."

In fact, throughout the evening he gave me multiple cues that he was more than ok with me taking the lead. I didn't take charge. Not really. But I could have.

Maybe it's time for me to tell him.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Mistressness (and lack thereof)

I'm in a really amazing place in my life right now. I'm very very content.

I've figured out who my real friends are and I'm working to cultivate those relationships. My new job is going great and I'm really enjoying the people I work with and this new challenging chapter of my career. Relationship-wise there are a few people in my life but none are serious. And I feel really ok with the lack of pressure that not being in a relationship provides.

I feel more content with my life than I have in years. 

So imagine my surprise to find myself in weird place in regards to D/s lately. I have been feeling a distinct lack of Mistressness.

I've been having some amazing vanilla sex with a sub, but we haven't been playing. It's not that I haven't had the desire to bring D/s into the things we've been doing. It just hasn't felt right. And of course our sex is more than just a little bit kinky. But I wouldn't call it playing. I'd call it deliciously vanilla. And I have been more than just a little bit happy with that.

Bon-bon has not been at my disposal for playing much lately. Perhaps it was because I was getting laid in the traditional sense but I hadn't been really really craving play until about two weeks ago. Luckily, that was at about the time when bon-bon's schedule enabled him to spend some quality time with me. And by quality time I mean time bent over the arm of my sofa.

Ok maybe I had not TOTALLY lost my D/s desires.

As much as I enjoyed bending bon-bon over, something just still wasn't right. I felt it even with my long distance subs. Or rather, I just wasn't feeling it. The writer has been amazingly patient and has continued to crank out my personalized erotica, but I haven't had the desire to play with him, not even to give him an assignment.

Part of it is time. My new job means I'm spending more time in the office and less time planning pervy endeavors. But it's been something else, too. Something I haven't been able to put my finger on.

What I've found interesting about it all is that even though I haven't felt very Mistress-y lately, I've still been amazingly happy. Super content with my life. I guess I've thought that D/s has been such a big part of my life that I needed it to be happy. As it turns out, I don't need it.

But I want it. Mmmm do I want it!

Whatever it was, it's over. I found it again. Last night I played with bon-bon and it was amazing. AHH MAZING. I felt great. In control.

She's BACK. And chock full of Mistressness!

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Scaring vanilla boys

I had a very vanilla first date tonight with a very vanilla guy. Barbecue and shopping. It was lovely in a very vanilla way.

"You should have just kissed me," I texted him after we parted ways. I knew he'd wanted to kiss me. He'd hugged me twice. We had a couple of minutes of awkward goodbye conversation. He'd looked at me like THAT.

"I know. Too awkward for my own good. Opportunity missed. I had a nice time though. Thanks for that."

"I had a good time too. And don't worry. You will have another shot at it if you want it."

"That does sound very enticing. I'm going to take you up on that!"

Could I have ended the awkwardness and kissed him tonight? Absolutely. But then that would have ended my fun.

No, he doesn't know I'm kinky. He doesn't know I'm Dominant. Doesn't know anything about my dark side. And I'm sure he has no clue how much I enjoyed his discomfort tonight. How I grinned for nearly 30 minutes afterwards as I recalled his anxiety.

I could have kissed him. I could have ended his misery. I didn't. I was enjoying it way too much.

Sunday, October 30, 2011

The deliciousness of being a scary bitch

The first time I met bon-bon, we lingered for a couple of hours over cocktails before I put him in my rope cuffs and had him kneel for me. He trembled as he knelt. And it was delicious.

The first time we really played, I tied him spread eagle to his bed. I knew he was a novice with rope so I didn't stretch him taunt across his bed. I left a little play in the rope so he didn't feel so restricted. He was visibly anxious. His looked at each wrist with concern until I blindfolded him but his breath remained rapid. And it was delicious.

We've played nearly every week since and even now, four months later, he still gets nervous around me.

And it is still delicious.

But it is surprising to me.

I'm not a scary bitch. I'm really not. I'm often told I'm "way too nice to be a Domme" by those who have never played with me. Well, by those who haven't played with me or read my blog.

I don't scream or yell when I play. My sadism is usually wrapped in such sensuality, you don't see it coming. I'm usually dressed in something rather classic, never in scary Domme attire.

Still, I'm a Domme and I suppose if you didn't know me well, you'd assume I'm scary.

The thing is, bon-bon DOES know me well. He's had four months to get to know me. And he's still a little scared of me.

Two weeks ago I had bon-bon come over to hook up some electronics. He was all business in deciding what needed to be done and concluded I needed some additional hardware. Yippee! A trip to hardware store!

On our way, we stopped at the liquor store for wine. We made a selection and then as I was browsing, I heard him asking for the small bottle of Patron.

Back in the car even before I had my seat belt buckled, bon-bon had opened the Patron. I laughed. I made a comment about him not even being able to wait until we got back to my house.

"You make me nervous."

"What?? Really??"

"Yes," he said taking a shot. "You always make me anxious."

And though I was astounded I have the power to make him nervous four months later, I'm pretty sure this scary bitch was instantly wet.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

In honor of International Fisting Day

Friday, October 21 is International Fisting Day. And in honor of this occasion, I thought I'd blog about fisting.

I'm a big fan of fisting. That probably comes as no surprise to you, I'm sure. Fisting has long been seen as a Dominant action. And now you're picturing me gloved and lubed with my hand up some guy's ass, right? In some hot girl's vagina?

As lovely as that visual is, it's not what gets my juices flowing when I hear the word "fist."

I enjoy being fisted.

Yep, I said it. I admit it. I love that feeling of being full beyond belief. Feeling stretched. Love it. Love love love it!

I've always had a thing for guys with sexy hands. Nice, well shaped, strong hands. It's one of the first things I check out when I meet a guy. And sometimes, when he has really nice hands, it's enough to dampen my panties.

Well, if I wore panties, that is.

I'm not sure at what point the distraction of a man's hands turned into fantasizing about how they'd feel in my vagina, but it did. And it continues to happen more than I'd like admit.

My first experience with fisting was with an ex-girlfriend. We were fooling around and at some point amongst the OH MY GODs she told me she had her hand inside me. Later, she proudly showed me how she was wet up past her wrist. We hadn't used any lube.

She was amazed at how hot it was. I was amazed she'd gotten her whole hand inside me. She wanted to get a tattoo of auburn curls (like my own hair) encircling her wrist to commemorate the occasion. I wanted more.

But I'd have to wait. My first fisting was literally days before I took on my first sub. After that, the vanilla guys I dated were few and far between and I never trusted them enough to try it with them. And I surely wasn't about to let a submissive fist me.

Once upon a time I cared about things like that. I refused to engage in some activities I enjoyed for fear that someone might find them, and my interest in them, submissive. I cared more about my perceived dominance that my own enjoyment.

And then I realize that's ridiculous. So what if I like being fisted? Guess what. Even when a guy has his hand in my vagina, I'm still calling the shots. I'm still very much in charge.

I'd let a couple of Dom boyfriends fist me since my first time. Not as part of any D/s scene, of course. Just two equals in bed having fun. But I hadn't let a submissive fist me until a few months ago.

As with any type of fisting, trust is always a factor. I wouldn't dare engage in fisting with someone I didn't know with 100% certainty was going to follow my instructions to the letter.

So I let my sub fist me. And it was great. I let him do it a few times.

One time I even wrote about it. Only I didn't. I wrote AROUND it. I said he ate my pussy and he did. I just omitted the part where he stuck his whole hand inside me.

"Oh yeah, I read your blog."

"Yeah? Did you like it?"

"You're a liar."

"What???"

"You didn't mention the part where I fisted you."

It's true. I didn't. Creative license? No, that's not why I omitted it. Quite frankly, it wasn't relevant to the post.

But because this Friday is International Fisting Day, it's relevant. And so now I'm sharing.

He fisted me on the patio table as I lay naked under the stars. And it was hot.

He says that when he tries to insert his hand, when he TRIES to fist me, it never works. But if I relax and push onto his hand, I can take it every time. And enjoy it. Immensely.

Call fisting a Dominant thing if you want. Go ahead and think being the recipient means you're submitting. If it's something I enjoy and want to do, I'm going to do it and I don't give a shit what you think about it.

Fisting is about trust. Fisting is about control. It's just not always about domination in the way you might think.

Happy Fisting Day!

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

The repulsive things that make your cock hard

People tell me their wildest fantasies. They also tell me all about the crazy, naughty, twisted things they've done.

Did you know most straight men have tranny fantasies? Know how I know? They tell me.

I know a guy whose Domme made him masturbate farm animals. And a female sub whose Domme made her submit to a dog. Yes, it was truly doggie style.

I could go on but you get the picture. People do some crazy, sick shit and they tell me about it.

What is it about me that makes people want to tell me things? Well, I am open minded and I don't judge.

Except when it comes to children. I want to hurt child molesters in not fun ways. That's not even an acceptable fantasy in my book.

But other than anything involving children, I don't judge. Does it mean I am going to encourage my sub to have close personal relations with animals? Hell no.

Might have a straight male sub jerk off a tranny though.

Kidding.

Ok not really.

But my point is, people tell me crazy shit because they know I won't judge them.

Recently someone I'm close to told me he'd done something very very naughty.
"Lilyana, it's SICK and yet as I'm sitting here talking to you about it, I'm ROCK HARD."

He's been in the lifestyle a long, long time. And like anyone who is kinky, he's upped the ante over time. He's progressively gotten kinkier.

I think we all do that. We kinksters love the high we get from our naughty play. And we're always seeking the next biggest thing - the next big high. So we try new things. And usually each new thing is naughtier than the last.

A lot of times the naughty things are taboo. And sometimes the fact that it's taboo is more of a turn on than the act itself.

I REALLY enjoy getting into someone's head and discovering what turns then on and why. I've learned to poke around in a submissive's brain and figure out their trigger points so I can use them to bend him to my will.

So I used my working knowledge of sexual deviant psychology to help my friend. He was VERY perplexed at how he could be aroused by talking about something so repulsive.

"It's very taboo," I reminded him. "You're kinky. You're turned on by things that most normal people find taboo."

"But the idea of it, Lilyana, it's not hot, it's sick. So why am I hard just telling you about it?"

I explained that it wasn't what had happened that was arousing to him. It was the fact that what had occurred was so taboo - THAT is why his cock was hard.

As soon as I said it, he knew it was true and he felt better about it.

We can't control what arouses us and sometimes what arouses us is something that also repulses us. This was the case for my friend.

What we CAN control is whether or not we act on what arouses us. We are not slaves to our horniess (although sometimes it might seem that way).

I think now that my friend knows WHY he was aroused - because the act was taboo, not because the act itself was hot - he can move on to something else he doesn't also find quite so distasteful. He can move on to another kinky high.

As a true friend compelled to help him, perhaps I should do something that will distract him - to get his mind off of things.

Tranny handjob maybe?

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

No gay hand job porn

Bon-bon had a Domme who was a psychologist by profession. I've yet to discover to what extent she played mind games with him but I did find out something last night that I wasn't happy about.

She used to make him watch gay porn, specifically gay oral and gay handjob porn. While he jacked off.

Bon-bon explains this to me as we're discussing forced bi.

"My former Domme loved the idea of me sucking some guys cock."

"Hehe of course she did. It's the ultimate humiliation AND it's guy on guy (if you're into that)."

"She'd always try to train me psychologically ... make me find you gay blow job and hand job videos ... used to make me watch them while she made me stroke my cock."

"Understand this: I don't want you to want to do it. Maybe she did but the hotness for me is that you do it to please me, not because you've been trained to enjoy the idea. She was training you to be aroused at the idea of guy on guy action. If you're aroused, it's no longer forced." 

"She was just trying her best to break me."

"Oh I understand where she was going with it, totally."

Not only do I understand it, I can see the allure. But the beautiful, exciting part about forced bi for me is not seeing two guys getting it on. That is not a huge turn on for me. It's that a man will set aside one of the things that he treasures most, his heterosexuality, to amuse and entertain me just because I ask.

As a huge fan and avid practitioner of erotic humiliation, I feel like forced bi is pretty much the ultimate in humiliation. Unless the guy LIKES it. Or WANTS it. And I'm not talking about enjoying it or desiring it because he loves/hates the humiliation aspect. Or because he wants to please his Domme. I'm talking about the kind of guy who is aroused by the act itself outside of the humiliation and service aspects.

The kind of guy his former Domme was trying to train him to become.

And while I understand the allure of this kind of psychological training, I don't want to do it. When a guy sucks cock for me, I want to bask in his humiliation. I want him to want to suck cock because it pleases and amuses me, not because he's been trained to crave the taste cock on his tongue.

Later in our very hot conversation ...

"I need to go to bed and jerk off. You have me ready to explode."

"No cumming. Touch yourself all you want but your next orgasm is mine and that means you wait."

"Yes Ma'am."

"Good boy. I, on the other hand, may just go have a handful while I think about you aching to cum."

"Yes Ma'am. I'll watch some gay hand job porn ... LOL."

"NO. Absolutely not!! No gay hand job porn!"

Sunday, August 28, 2011

Untouchable - by the writer

My long distance sub, the writer, has been sending me reports each morning for the three weeks he's been chaste for me. They are too hot not to share so I asked him to create a blog post from a couple of them over the past week since I added an interesting twist into his period of chastity.

Last night, before going to bed, I saw a pair of panties  -- my panties -- on the drying rack and a butt plug on the tub where I'd placed them to dry. I smiled before putting both away. They are now very potent symbols, each of them, far beyond the particular acts for which they were used.

It's amazing to me that it was only last weekend when I was wearing the panties and did not text Lilyana after the woman with whom I had a date showed up looking so deliberately sexy. At the time, I thought that the reason I didn’t call and ask her permission to at least make out with my date was because I couldn’t envision how I could get the panties off without her knowing. But then, I realized that this wasn’t true. I hadn’t texted because I had come to the point where I would rather play with Lilyana than have sex with a very attractive woman.

That was a turning point, a scary one.

I haven't regretted it for a moment.

Today is my three-week chastity anniversary, and I am, of course, aching. Woke up with a raging hard-on, as to be expected. Tomorrow will be my week anniversary of total cock denial, something I never anticipated.

Until this Monday, I was occasionally allowed to ask her if I could edge. Sometimes my request was granted. Sometimes it was not. The simple act of having to ask was thrilling. I felt completely and utterly controlled.

I had begun to drip uncontrollably. The last time she placed me in chastity, it lasted five weeks. I have no idea whether this will be as long, longer, or shorter. My desire to cum simply grows and binds me closer to her.

Last Sunday (was it really only I week ago?), I asked if I could touch my cock. Her first answer was “no,” and I took a deep breath. Then she changed her mind.

Having no idea what was in store, I gave myself a few reassuring squeezes. A stroke or two. I didn’t bother to edge. I felt warm and comfortable and cared for.

The next morning I was told that I was no longer to have any contact with my cock at all. That I was to sit to pee, that I had to blot my cock head with toilet paper rather than shake off the last drop. To both our surprise, this turned out to be the most humiliating part of the exercise. Something about carefully holding the paper so that only it touched me, about not being allowed my life-long male shake, shamed me.

The only time I was allowed to have any contact with my cock was in the shower. Two seconds to moisten, three to soap up, and four to rinse off. Then I was to allow it to air dry. No stroke of the towel. I had to change my position in the shower so that the water did not hit my cock at any other time. Instead of washing front and back, I now washed side to side. I shampooed with my back to the shower head at all times.

And starting last Monday, that was all that I was allowed.

That was it. No nipple torture. No ass play. No edging, of course.

I began to experience a form of control that lies far outside any fantasy I have ever had. It’s not the same as having my cock locked. The cage bondage, a form of alternative pleasure; this denial is pure submission and very humiliating at that.

I never imagined, when I began this, how much I would have to confront:

Confessing that I would rather be denied than fuck took all my courage.  But there it is. I can never return to the point before I admitted this to her and to myself.

I've also had to confront my secondary status.

It's one thing to be cucked. It's one thing to understand that there are things that simply cannot be done long distance. It's another to have to know that Lilyana’s other subs get to experience things that she could have me do and that she chooses not to. This is excruciating. As a secondary I must accept that others will not only receive more pleasure but also more pain than I.

Not as hard is the lesson I've been given in the difference between envy and jealousy. I am deeply envious of her subs’ physical play. I am not jealous in the least. I want her to have all the pleasure in the world, and I want her to have a great emotional connection with those with whom she plays. Nothing she does with them diminishes anything she does with me. Yes, the details add to my torment, but then, that torment is at the core of our play.

Along with this, I've had to come to learn about acceptance as a really essential part of submission. I accept the torment that comes with denial because it pleases her. I even report the torment in detail knowing that it only encourages her to keep me this way. Acceptance is no longer theoretical. It is something I live with constantly.

And then there was what happened a few days ago, when I was going crazy with denial. I was going to beg her for sensation. For pain on my nipples. For a chance to fuck my ass. For the feeling of the new panties I had bought for her against my skin.

But since she had not given me permission to beg, I kept these desires to myself.

And then, an hour later, she told me to plug myself.

She had known what I needed without my having to say a word.

I spent three hours with a plug in my ass, texting with her the entire time, precum dripping from my cock. I heard stories of things she had done with others.

And when it ended, I admitted to her that it was as good as any vanilla fuck I had ever had. I felt wholly and completely satisfied. The afterglow lasted well into the next morning.

The implications of this are huge. Lilyana knows from my stories that I've fantasized about being permanently denied penetration.

I love to fuck. Love the warmth and wetness of a woman when I am inside her. Love the smell of her on my cock the next morning.

She knows this, of course. But after this weekend, she also knows that it would be possible for me to give this up and not just for a few weeks. I know it as well. And it makes me so very afraid.

When I put the butt plug and the panties away last night, the reality washed over me.

In three weeks, I have become fuckless and secondary, my cock reduced to plumbing.

I am so submissively grateful.

Saturday, August 20, 2011

Snortgasm

Ever laugh so hard you snort? Well, a snortgasm is like that ... But for an orgasm.

A snort is definitely not as sexy as the sounds women typically make when they orgasm. But then again, I'm not your typical woman.

In fact, I don't typically make much noise at all when I cum. That's because I hold my breath.

Self inflicted breath control? Mini auto asphyxiation? I honestly can't be sure. It's just something I started doing three years ago. And it was at that point I also became super orgasmic.

Coincidence? Maybe. But my orgasmicness is best left for discussion in another blog.

THIS blog is about the snortgasm.

I was fucking him, or rather he was fucking me, when I came on his cock HARD. It was one of those beautifully hot yet intimate moments where we were holding each other tight, our chins nestled in each other's necks.

When an orgasm is particularly long, I tend to hold my breath for a while and then take a quick breath before holding it again. I may do this three of four times for a particularly lengthy orgasm.

During this particular orgasm, during the second or third gulp of air, I snorted.

I snorted as I came at about the same time he came.

"Did I just snort??"

"Yes you did."

I laughed, "I can't believe I snorted while I was cumming. It was a snortgasm."

And the snortgasm was born.

A snortgasm is much like the snort that occasionally occurs when you laugh very hard in a carefree way. Ok, like when *I* laugh in a carefree way anyway.

When someone says something funny enough to make me snort when I laugh, I call it "snortworthy."

However, even now that I've experienced the snortgasm, I don't think I'll be calling orgasms "snortworthy." There's something not quite right about that.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

Maybe I'm just greedy

I'm polyamorous. I'm a Domme. But I don't want MY sub submitting to another Domme while he's submitting to me.

Maybe that means I'm not poly. Maybe I'm just greedy.

I've previously considered and given permission to a sub to date others while we were together. It was permission with conditions, sure. I'm the Dominant and I have that right.

I believe that being poly means you're ok with your partners being involved with others. And I am. I've been involved with other people who are poly and I've also been involved with non-polys who were seeing others while we were together. And I was REALLY ok with it.

I just don't want someone who is submitting to me on a regular basis submitting to anyone else.

Is it a double standard? Yes. Because even though I've never had multiple serious subs at once, I often have more than one sub that I'm considering and/or playing with.

No, what's good for the Goose isn't good for the gander.

D/s is the difference. It's not just sex. It's not even sex and dating. It's a much more special connection.

There's an ownership element to D/s that throws my being poly all off kilter. There's a feeling of MINE I have with subs, even former subs, that I never had when I was monogamous, even when I was married.

And when I think of a sub of mine kneeling for another Domme, I feel a little sick. I believe that's something special he should only share with me. Date someone else, fuck someone else, but no, I'm not ok with you submitting to someone else.

I don't think that's wrong either. But then again, maybe I'm just greedy.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Defiance

Nodder's panties.
"I brought you something," I announced as I pulled things from my overnight bag.

"Oh yeah?" nodder asked.

I tossed "his" panties on the bed.

"I don't need those," nodder said.

"Yes you do. Put them on." Nodder isn't into cross dressing but he is a whore for humiliation and has a love/hate relationship with his polka dot beribboned panties.

He picked them up and tossed them across the bed. "No thanks."

"No?" I was incredulous. Nodder doesn't tell me no. Not when it comes to play. "What do you mean, NO?"

"I mean, I'm not going to put on panties."

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not. You don't really want me to anyway."

I laughed. "YES, I really do."

"No, you really don't. You just think that that's what I want you to make me do right now but that's not what you really want," he explained. And then he leaned over and kissed me and all thoughts left my head except one: he might be right.

I tried to insist he put on the panties anyway, to reestablish control of the situation. He called me out on it. "That's not really what you want right now. I can tell. Come on now, I've known you for 11 months and I know what you want."

And then I did something I almost never do. I blushed.

The rest of the evening unfolded in a way that proved him right. As much as I enjoy control and his reactions when I dominate him, it wasn't a scene I wanted. I wanted to connect without D/s.

We ended up outside on his patio, naked, with me laying on the table looking up at the stars while he ate my pussy. The view of the Las Vegas strip was beautiful, the air was warm and comforting and his skilled tongue made me forget his defiance, made me forget everything. I lost myself in the sensations and we weren't Mistress and sub. We weren't ex boyfriend and ex girlfriend. We just were.

Actually, I supposed that isn't true. As I write this I am realizing that nodder's defiance could be viewed as service to me. After all, he was serving my true desires. Even when I didn't know them yet.

Friday, August 5, 2011

Hoping to make "The List" again

I started this blog as an outlet for my perviness and I'm flattered that so many have enjoyed my musings. Based on your feedback, I've learned that I've aroused, intrigued, amused and even occasionally educated. Reader feedback continues to make me smile.

And being recognized by my peers on the list for the Top Sex Bloggers of 2010, was definitely one of the highlights of 2010 for me. Of course I'd love to make the list for 2011.

I'm not going to go all bitchy Domme on you and demand you nominate me. Or beg for your nomination.

But if you enjoy my blog, I'd love it if you'd take a moment and nominate me for the 2011 list here.

Intensity

I should have known that things were different when nodder put his arms around me from behind and kissed my neck while I was making dinner. I wasn't just instantly wet, my whole body was engulfed in what I can only describe as a warm shiver.

I figured maybe it was just a familiarity thing. Sure, we hadn't seen each other in the five weeks since our breakup but you can't know someone intimately for 11 months, can't have played with them dozens of times, and not know the right buttons to push in just the right way to turn them on.

But then as we sat watching a movie snuggled on the sofa, my breath caressed nodder's wrist almost accidentally and made him moan in an unexpected way. I smiled with delight like a child who had just learned a great secret.

I KNEW things were different.

After a few weeks of no contact after our break up, nodder and I began to IM a little. Pretty quickly we'd resumed something that might just end up some type of dysfunctional friendship.

Neither of us took the decision to see each other in person again lightly. We discussed it thoroughly and ensured we were both clear about our expectations for our relationship. We agreed our romantic relationship had run its course and that we cannot have a future together but that we still cared about each other in ways we hope to weave into a friendship.

The expectations for our first evening together again were not as clear. There was no agenda, no plan. He came over with wine and I threw together some dinner that we ate while we watched a movie.

I figured it would be a low key evening that would set a precedence for our budding friendship. Some snuggling maybe.

I didn't dare think we'd be able to keep our hands off each other though. Even when things were rough between nodder and me, our chemistry was always considerable, particularly for play. I'd have been naïve to expect it to have disappeared just because we'd broken up.

Knowing we have no future together should have at least diminished it though right?

Nope.

There was an unmistakable new intensity between us. Every kiss, every touch ... everything was electric in a way I'd never known with nodder.

I struggle even now to express how things were with nodder that night. It was raw and beautiful and something else I can't quite describe.

The only word I can come up with is intense. The foreplay, the play, the sex ... it was all so fucking intense.

I'm also struggling to understand why it was so intense. It wasn't make up sex because we're not getting back together. And it didn't have the celebratory flavor. Lack of "relationship" pressure? Eh, maybe. Sexual frustration and pent up passion? Nah.

His every reaction to every little thing I said or did told me he'd missed me. Maybe it was that "absence makes the heart grow fonder" bullshit.

I don't know and I don't really care. I loved playing with nodder before. And now with this new intensity it's like we've taken things to another level.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

A bowl for my cherries

I've always had a thing for the way a guy's lower back is shaped when he's fit. The curves of muscle, the way they form valleys and troughs where they come together. Yum.

I had bon-bon on his knees on our first date. It's not something I do regularly. I don't typically play with a guy on the first date at all. But I wanted him on his knees and so he was. I'd put him in my rope cuffs and let my hands explore his chest and back, unbuttoning his shirt a bit at a time, teasing us both.

He's in great shape. Not ripped, but very fit and working towards ripped. My hands were very happy checking out the terrain - especially the valleys. And I found the well defined trough in his back intoxicating.
During our first play session, he'd spent most of his time tied to his bed. On his back.

In planning for our second session, I decided I wanted to combine two things I'm fascinated with: his lower back and objectification.

"You're going to be my snack tray," I told him.

And so he was. I had him lay face down across the ottoman and I placed some fruit and cheese in the bowl that his lower back formed.

Then I sat back, sipped my wine and admired the view.

But as lovely as the view was, after a few bites of cheese, a cherry and some grapes, I became a bit bored. That's when I grabbed my riding crop and discovered how nicely bon-bon welts. And how nicely he jumps when I smack his ass.

His reactions made me grin. So of course I smacked him again. And again and again.

He didn't stop flinching when I hit him and each time my crop came in contact with his ass, the fruit in his lower back came precariously close to spilling.

"Don't you dare spill my cherries," I instructed him.

"Yes Mistress," he responded.

When I had thoroughly reddened his ass and left some very nice welts, I removed my panties, leaned over him and whispered, "Do you have any idea how much I enjoy hurting you?"

And then I put my panties under his nose so he could smell just how excited his pain made me.
I used him as a foot stool as I masturbated and admired the view. I even drank wine from the divot in his lower back, lapping it ever so slowly.

He's doing a new workout routine, one he claims is rather intense. He promises it will yield six pack abs and ... a bigger bowl for my cherries.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Bondage, real or implied

There are few things that are as hot as the site of a boy securely bound in my rope. Except maybe a girl. But I digress.

I love to see a boy splayed across a bed, tied tight to the bed by his wrists and ankles. Or bent over a table. Or really any furniture.

Aesthetically I enjoy the way his limbs look bound. The way the rope wraps around his wrists, his hands tightly fisted or slightly open and relaxed, depending on how sensual or sadistic the attention I'm giving him is at the time.

I'm a competent enough rigger to do some semi-extravagant shibari when I want, but I'm more likely to quickly lash a boy's wrists together over his head. It often gets the job done and puts him into the same head space the fancy rope work would anyway.

Plus I waste less time getting him immobile so I can have my way with him.

But as much as I love rope and the way a boy looks in it, sometimes I don't bother with it.

There is a beautiful phenomenon I've seen with subs that always makes me smile. I've always meant to blog about its hotness and today I shall.

I love how a sub will automatically position himself for bondage, real or implied, during a scene. It's like they beg for it.

If you've read Peeing on nodder, you'll know I tied his wrists before I put him in the bath tub and gave him his first golden shower. We did it a second time and I didn't write about it. I put him in the same tub in the same position without tying his wrists and he immediately raised his fists above his head as if he were bound.

So hot.

In my experience it's a fairly common phenomenon. When I climb on top of a sub, his hands seem to automatically go over his head as if he's begging for bondage, assuming he's bound or at least hoping I'll pin his wrists down with my hands.

It's one of those beautifully submissive responses that makes me want to simply devour him.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Transparency

"You are quite the sexual lightning rod," bon-bon told me. We'd been discussing those who had expressed an interest in me lately. Hot women. And he's all for that by the way. But it always surprises me a little when female hotties want me. "You are. You emanate sexual energy. Wild sexual energy."

"Do I? Actually I have heard that before."

"Uh huh. I bet you have. It's quite pronounced."

"Even in college my best friend's boyfriend said that about me. 'Lilyana just oozes sex when she walks into the room.' I felt dirty in a not fun way after that."

"It's not an ooze."

I laughed.

"It's more like if we were hummingbirds, you'd be filled with red sugar syrup."

Then I REALLY laughed.

"The container is transparent. You know the sweet stuff is in there. You can see it, smell it, and if your smart enough to figure it out, there are points of access where you get rewarded by the sweet nectar."

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Punishment and Porn

I'm considering a new guy. We've very quickly become quite intrigued with each other, in fact. So much so that we're both thinking it's too good to be true.

Professionally our backgrounds are similar. Our kinks align well. We both want a long term relationship. He's successful and secure, totally the alpha male who likes to submit behind closed doors. My cup of tea.

I gave him a simple assignment: send me one picture of yourself every day before midnight. It can be sweet, funny or sexy.

Day 2 his picture came at 12:07 AM the day after it was due. I forbade him to look at my photos all day long as punishment. I knew he had them on his desktop and enjoyed looking at them frequently.

On day 3 he fell asleep and didn't send one at all.

*sigh*

I abhor punishing a sub. It's almost never fun for me.

If you've read the girl's blog entry called "The hottest moment," you'll know my punishments often mean my sub doesn't get to see me or communicate with me. Withdrawal of affection, as I call it.

Or it could be painful in a not fun way like when I made nodder kneel on rice in the corner while I lounged in lingerie ready to play just out of his sight.

One thing my punishments are not is fun. I don't spank a sub as punishment because generally speaking, on some level, they all like it. Even spanking is a form of attention.

As they say in regards to child development, negative attention is still attention. And trust me when I say that subs CAN be very much like bratty children.

Luckily I don't attract bratty subs. My subs serve me joyously without trying to manipulate me into play with bratty behavior that begs for punishment. Or rather FUNishment.

So imagine my shock to hear the new guy say in regards to missing two out of three assignment deadlines, "If I never did anything, wrong ... what fun would you have?"

I was aghast. I explained it all to him, my theory on punishment. I advised him when he gets spanked, it'll be because that's what I want to do, not because he's misbehaved.

I think he understands me now and I don't think he'll try to be bratty with me again but I was just stunned. And it made me wonder about his former Dommes too. Were they the kind of Dominants who suddenly jump into screaming bitchy Domme mode when it's time to play - the kind that play the role of a Domme and think bitchiness is required?

And then I began to watch some of the porn the guy has acquired over time. The answer was in the very first clip.

It was a foreign film, in what language I cannot recall. A man dressed in street clothes wearing a frilly apron was making something in the kitchen as a woman in stockings, heels, a thong and a sheer nighty watched, smoking. The man dropped something and the woman started screaming at him and pushing him around. In moments she had him undressed and fucking himself with a dildo stuck to the floor with a suction cup. She was still yelling at him.

The yelling abated as she donned her strap-on which she made him suck while he was fucking himself.

You get the picture. Hell, you've probably seen the clip or one just like it.

And suddenly I realized why he'd said, "If I never did anything, wrong ... what fun would you have?" He must have thought that maybe it was one way to get my attention, to engage me in play. To bring out my inner Domme.

Well guess what. Being Dominant is who I am. It's not a role that I play. It's not something bad behavior provokes. In fact, it's just the opposite.

Admittedly, I don't watch a lot of porn. Why? Because it frustrates me. Why? Because I don't play like they do in porn.

Playing with me in any capacity is a privilege. Sometimes it's even a reward. It's NEVER punishment.

I'm damn sure not going to reinforce bad behavior with cock sucking and ass fucking and call it punishment. I'd have the worst behaved subs and that's not ok with me.

Now, I do understand role play. I do. The naughty school girl gets spanked for bad behavior be someone playing a stern school teacher. That's not my thing but I get why people enjoy it. You get to be someone you're not.

But I'm not playing the role of Domme. It's who I am. I don't have to scream and be bitchy, wear leather and carry a whip. And I don't need your bad behavior as an excuse to make you suck my cock.

Saturday, June 25, 2011

My boy, the bon-bon

D/s relationship status: formerly play partners

Relationship status: friends


The bon-bon earned his nickname after nearly three months of being known as "the new guy." It was inspired by my friend and Domme, Akasha, who once referred to a very fit boy as a bondage bon-bon. He's amazingly fit for a guy of any age, particularly one in his late 40's, and has a very remarkable "bon-bon."

When we met in late June of 2011, bon-bon and I immediately connected in play as well as personally and professionally and really enjoyed getting to know each other better in each area.

Read blogs about bon-bon.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Mouthy

I normally enjoy a mouthy sub, particularly one as witty as nodder. Not disrespectfully mouthy but talkative. I almost never impose speech restrictions.

I'd been talking about playing off and on all day but when nodder came to my house that night about a month ago, vanilla activities had prevailed. But I was starting to ache to play. Not from lack of orgasms. I'd had plenty of those. But my post orgasm bliss was starting to melt into a desire to play. Specifically for rope. For him in my rope.

I tied his ankles to his thighs in a frog tie, then his wrists in front of him and created a chest harness. Nodder chatted happily throughout my rigging.

Why he decided to start being a smart ass, I have no idea. He was thoroughly tied and wasn't going anywhere. He wasn't being disrespectful, just annoying.

"Oh my God you need to shut the fuck up."

He kept chatting.

"Seriously. Just stop talking."

I blindfolded him thinking losing his sight might quiet him.

It didn't.

I can't even remember what he was talking about but I was just done listening to him. I whipped out my duct tape and slapped a piece across his mouth. He opened his mouth in a yawn and loosened the tape so I added another piece.Then I taped him from his chin to the top of his head on both sides.

And he kept talking.


Then I grabbed another piece of rope, channeled my inner Lee Harrington and fashioned some face bondage designed to keep his jaw securely shut.

It worked. Peace and quiet.

I'd chosen to tie nodder as I had with the intent of engaging in some CBT and facesitting and I was not to be deterred simply because little of nodder's face was available for sitting. I knelt over him, my wetness just inches from his nose and watched his cock twitch. Slowly I lowered myself until his nose touched my slit. I felt him try to touch me the only way he could, nuzzling my pussy, and heard him groan in frustration.

I sat firmly on his face and reached for his cock. I stroked it gently, teasingly and waited. I waited for that moment the delicious struggle ensues.

I felt his head turn beneath me trying to find breath and I savored the struggle for a few seconds as his cock became impossibly hard before I lifted my weight off of him, laughing and giddy with power.

Again and again I sat on his face burying his nose in my pussy. I alternated between smacking and squeezing his cock painfully and teasing it with soft touches.

But the real torture was in the fact that he couldn't taste me. He could smell me and feel my wetness on his nose and cheeks but the duct tape and rope prevented more.

Truth be told, it was torture for me too. As much as I enjoy breath control and teasing, I enjoyed nodder's mouth more.

When I could take no more, I slipped the rope from his face and removed the duct tape. Before he could resume his chatter, I kissed him hard and then sat firmly upon his face again.

Like a good boy, his mouth went right to work. And he was mouthy in all the right ways.

Monday, June 20, 2011

The poster child for Secure Partners Only

I knew it wouldn't work with nodder and me. I knew it. I knew it and I tried to have a relationship with him anyway.

It's funny what you'll do for love. Hell, I was even monogamous. Me, the woman who is always juggling at least three guys at once, I was monogamous.

Why? I loved him that much. I loved him more than I loved being the Lilyana who juggles men. I loved him enough to ease his worries by giving up other guys.

I gave up women too, by the way. I should get extra credit for that.

I knew as I made the decision to be monogamous with nodder, to give up any chance at relationships with others, exactly what I was doing. I knew it wasn't sustainable. I also knew, somewhere inside, that if nodder was the right guy for me, he'd have accepted me without me having to give up part of who I am.

But I did it. I gave up guys and girls. I gave up dating AND searching for new subs. I gave up any possibility to play with the girl and chewtoy. I gave up whatever it is/was developing between 6 and I lately. I even gave up my online play with the writer and cumboy.

I gave it up. I gave it all up. I shut down my vanilla dating site and collarme profiles and posted 'in a relationship' on FetLife. And I had no problem doing it. I loved him and I wanted to end his angst.

But I won't do it again. I won't.

I'm not talking about the monogamy part. True, I'm polyamorous, but I can be monogamous if I so choose and I may choose monogamy again someday. However, if I do, it won't be to end someone's angst. It will be because that's what my heart tells me I should do.

The writer once told me I was the poster child for Secure Partners Only. Every time nodder pointed out a reason why he wasn't good enough for me, every time he called my FMT my boyfriend in a fit of jealousy, every time he made jabs about other people in my life, I'd remember what the writer said.

Note to potential subs and boyfriends: Don't even bother approaching me if you don't have your shit together. Don't message me unless you are supremely confident and secure. If you're prone to jealousy, don't even breathe in my direction.

I am Lilyana, the poster child for Secure Partners Only. You've been warned.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Blissfully "boring as fuck"

I've been flirting with the idea for a few months now. Today I took the plunge.

I'm officially in a monogamous relationship with nodder.

I'm still polyamorous. That hasn't changed. I'm still capable of maintaining multiple sexual, emotional and/or spiritual relationships. But I'm choosing to engage in a monogamous relationship.

The reactions I'm getting are mixed.

"Awwww that's nice, right?"

"You've gotten into a monogamous relationship? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Good luck! I hope it all works out great."

"WHAT??? Not even other girls?"

"OMG. OMFG."

"Do I know you? Monogamous? Wow. That's a big step."

"That's gonna be boring as fuck."

Boring? Yes, it's going to be BLISSFULLY BORING between nodder and me. Almost all of conflict we've had between us suddenly no longer exists because I'm no longer seeing or talking to anyone else.

Monday, May 23, 2011

Fuck rope

I recently uttered words so unbelievable, so shocking that they stopped nodder in his tracks. Err ... Ok, mid thrust.

"Fuck rope."

It wasn't an adjective used to describe a certain type of rope. I was a verb. And it was said rather emphatically. FUCK ROPE.

If you follow my blog or know me in real life, you know I'm passionate about rope. And if you read On planning and satisfying cravings, you know that I seldom plan a scene. However, this was one of those rare nights where I had a plan. And that plan involved rope.

Take Lilyana's plan, add wine and nodder's skilled mouth and the plan begins to dissolve a bit.

"I should make you get my rope bag," I said more than once in between orgasms.

"I can stop," nodder said, without pausing whatever he was doing to please me. "I can go get it."

"NO."

As much as I love D/s play, I still enjoy what I refer to as pseudo vanilla sex. I can't call it vanilla because when you're involved heavily in BDSM, I'm not sure you can ever have truly vanilla sex. Some kinky element always sneaks into sex, or at least it seems to be that way for me.

But on this night nodder and I were having sex that was almost vanilla and heavily laced with orgasms for me, tease and denial for him. And it was good. Very good. I was into it.

And then nodder asked, at a particularly good moment, "Are you sure you don't want me to go get your rope bag now," and I responded emphatically, "FUCK ROPE."

Nodder stopped mid thrust. "WHAT?? Did you just say 'Fuck rope'?"

I laughed. I hadn't been thinking clearly and now that I was, the irony wasn't lost on me.

Since then, nodder has mentioned it more than once. Rather gleefully, in fact. I think he's rather proud that he was able to get me to say that. And I'm sure I'll never live it down.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Foot fucker

When discussing with nodder all the hottest moments we've had together, a few things always come up. We both enjoyed the night I put him in panties, tied him to the table, made him suck a dildo and then masturbated behind him where he couldn't watch while using him as a footstool. We never fail to bring up our strap-on play or our most recent adventures in watersports. And I almost blush at the memory of the night he made me cum with a nod. ALMOST. It was that fucking hot.

As with any D/s relationship, our play has progressed with intensity over time. However, one of our favorite play sessions to reminesce about was one of our very first.

I demanded that he lick my ass. I do that. I love having my ass eaten. It's better than the best full body massage and oh so humiliating for the giver when you demand it.

I was on my knees on the bed, knees spread apart a bit, with the soles of my feet together. I wasn't aware of my precise positioning. It wasn't planned.

I was lost in the sensations of his talented tongue when I first became aware of the gentle nudging on the bottoms of my feet.

"What is that? What is that on my feet?"

Nodder groaned into my ass.

"Is that your cock???" I was surprised. He had admitted to finding my piggies rather cute but had said he didn't have a foot fetish.

"Mmmmmhmmmmm" he moaned.

"What??"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Are you trying to hump my feet?"

Nodder's response was the growl I would come to crave, his way of emoting when he is deeply and thoroughly humiliated in the most erotic way. I laughed and his growl deepened in response.

The nudging became more instent. Or maybe his cock was harder. Or maybe it was a little of both.

"You really are trying to fuck my feet, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mistress," he whispered.

I laughed. "You're a foot fucker!"

He groaned and began rubbing his cock against the soles of my feet in earnest.

Boys at their best are terrible at multitasking. Horny boys are even worse. As he was fucking my feet he forgot about my ass.

"WHY AREN'T YOU LICKING MY ASS?? Are you too busy being a foot fucker to lick my ass??"

He growled and whispered, "Yes, Mistress," before putting his mouth back to good use.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't lick my ass AND fuck my feet. "You're terrible at multitasking. Do you want to keep fucking my feet?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"If you want to keep rubbing your little dicklett on my feet, you HAVE to keep licking my ass. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress," he responded as he dove into eating my ass with new enthusiasm and I began to feel his precum on my soles.

And so it went for a bit - nodder failing miserably at multitasking, me laughing at and chiding him for it.

"Can I cum?"

"What??"

"Mistress, may I please cum," he asked in a strained voice.

I laughed, "You want to cum fucking my feet??"

He growled and I grinned with the delight of knowing I'd found a hot button of his and then tap danced all over it.

I gave him permission to cum on my feet. I never allow a boy to cum on me but that day, I did. In his first spurt, he overshot the soles of my feet and spread his enthusiasm all the way up one calf yet still managed to coat my feet.

"Now lick it off. All of it. Slowly."

Monday, April 25, 2011

Everything is better with rope

My love of rope is well documented and undisputed.

And really, what's not to love?

In my blog Peeing on nodder I detailed my first golden shower experience with him. It was very very hot and I'll never forget how he looked laying there in my tub with his wrists bound above his head.

We did it again, a week or so later, only I didn't tie his wrists, didn't use rope of any kind. It was hot - almost as hot as the first time. But nodder and I both agreed that him being bound definitely increased the hotness factor.

Tying up cock and balls is always fun but tonight I took it in a new and exciting direction with nodder. Using about two yards of black paracord, I wrapped his balls snugly, then twisted the cord and separated his balls. I then preceded to wrap his cock in the paracord, crisscrossing it tightly up the length.

I played with his cock, squeezing the rope into the sensitive skin, stroking his cock gently then roughly over the rope, slapping his cock, blowing cold air slowly down its length, even teasing the head of his cock with my tongue.
I put a condom over it and then fucked it, rope and all.

Most of my typical CBT moves were enhanced by the paracord. And It was easier to get that delicious wince of his out of him. And the grimace. And maybe even a growl.

Even for me the sensations were new. The velvety warmth of his hardness was broken up by the rough paracord and through the light teasing touches, hard squeezing and sharp smacking, my hand relished each and every new sensation.

More than once I unwrapped his cock, played with the smooth length, and then retied it before teasing and abusing him some more.

And then when I got it wrapped just the way I wanted it, I put a condom over his cock, and the paracord I'd wrapped and tied around it, and fucked him.

Yum.

As I slid down his cock, the first thing I noticed was how his cock was no longer smooth. The paracord wrapped around his cock meant he was now ribbed for my pleasure in a major way. The paracord around the base of his cock that wasn't covered by the condom created some new friction sensations for my labia.

But probably most important of all - the rope added some girth to his cock.

And what girl doesn't like a little girth?

OK, a LOT of girth.

Monday, April 18, 2011

Top space: my new favorite drug

I was discussing with 6 the hotness of a scene he'd participated in. It wasn't co-topping but more like sharing.

I enjoy sharing and I'm discovering I enjoy watching. Not random voyeurism though. I've pinpointed the hotness being wrapped up in the fact that I have some kind of connection with one or more of the people I'm watching. It's my new favorite thing.

Anyway, I was telling 6 about how much I enjoyed watching him, how much I enjoyed when our eyes met and I could see how much he was enjoying who I was sharing with him. I cited specific moments that were incredibly hot for me. My hottest moments. And then I asked him, "What was the hottest part for you?"

Without hesitation he responded, "Performing in front of you."

Instantly, I was back in Top space.

According to B.E.S.T slave training:
Top-space is a state of erotically altered consciousness (EAC) achieved during a scene by the dominant or top. It is characterized by feelings of intense focus, clarity of thought, a sense of extreme power or high energy, and/or exhilaration. Feelings of distance and objectivity, as if one where commanding from a mountaintop, may paradoxically accompany feelings of connection to the submissive, as if there were a psychic link.

Top space is a phenomenon I'd read about since I first started researching the lifestyle but couldn't exactly say I'd experienced outside of a scene until recently. I wrote about how it feels in session in "Having the whole world at my feet." But there is a certain euphoria I'm learning I can experience without actually being in the middle of a scene.

Ok maybe THAT is my new favorite thing. An incredible drug.

As I wrote "Peeing on nodder," I found myself in Top space. And I marveled at the fact that just writing about it brought on the euphoria.

I have to assume my sensitivity to what I'm feeling is growing as my experience in BDSM increases. Or maybe I'm just learning how to harness all that hotness in different ways.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Being selfish in bed

"You, Lilyana, are selfish in bed," stated my FMT in a conversation recently.

"WHAAAAAT???" I was incredulous that HE of all people would say something like that.

"You are. You're selfish in bed," he said with a smirk. He does adore pushing my buttons.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me."

"Well, not with me," he said, back peddling. "You weren't like that with me at all. I just know you are with other guys."

"You aren't submissive. Of course things were different with you. But what in the world makes you think I am selfish in bed?"

"Lilyana, I live with you. I've heard you. I know."

I laughed. The acoustics in his house make it nearly impossible for an orgasm to go unnoticed. It's true.

"YOU are SO loud and I know all of your sounds. I can tell when you're getting eaten out and I know when you're on top. I can tell."

"Yeah? So?" I rolled my eyes at him in typical Lilyana fashion because I knew where he was going with the topic of conversation.

My FMT knows me better than just about anyone. Not only is he perceptive but he's known me for more than two years and we were dating for part of that. We've also been living as roommates for four months. However, even with his exposure to the lifestyle and as open minded as he is, he still sometimes misses the mark on his assessment of me and my motivations.

"I can tell from the sounds you make that those guys are making this all about you. That they're mostly here to please you."

"Exactly! That doesn't make me selfish. I'm dominant, remember?"

"Yeah, I KNOW," he said, annoyed. "But, you're selfish."

I sighed. "What you don't understand is that these guys get their pleasure from pleasing me. They are submissive to me. This is what they WANT."

"Yeah, I know."

"Then why are you saying I'm being selfish??"

"Because you are!"

"I am not!"

"Lilyana, I CAN HEAR YOU!"

At this point, I'm laughing at the ridiculousness of the fact that he's mistaken my dominance for selfishness. I suppose it's a rooky mistake a vanilla would make, but I just expected he'd understand me better than that.

And then I'm picturing him playing World of Warcraft in the loft outside my bedroom while I'm playing with a sub and saying to himself as the sounds I make change, "Oh he's licking her pussy now ... Ah she must have just climbed on top," and I'm still laughing.


"Well, maybe you should have soundproofed your house a little better, honey!"

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Peeing on nodder

I don't often use the term 'golden shower.' I rarely even call it 'water sports.' I sure as hell don't use flowery verbiage like 'drenching you in my sweet nectar.'

What the fuck ever. It's peeing on you. And I want you to know it.

Last month I played with nodder for the first time in quite some time. I had six weeks of pent up desire to make him growl and whimper and react in all of the ways that make me so hot for his submission.

I also had a mission. I wanted to pee on him.

It was something we hadn't done, something I'd threatened him with in those moments we'd discussed the things I still wanted to do to him, things I wanted to do with him.

As soon as we agreed to play again, I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted to pee on him.

I started drinking extra water an hour before I knew we were going to play in preparation and had a large glass by the bed when we began to play.

I'd missed his mouth on mine and we made out like teenagers for a bit before I went into Domme-mode, ready for serious play.

I tied a pink ribbon with hearts on it around his erect cock, laughed how silly his cock looked, and told him if he let the ribbon slip off while he massaged me, I'd punish him. Every few minutes during the time I enjoyed his hands rubbing my body, I'd check to ensure the ribbon was still in place. It was. And I smiled each time.

As he massaged me, I'd stop occasionally to gulp more water. I was surprised he didn't notice and comment.

When my bladder couldn't take anymore, when my anticipation was also peaking, I pushed him back on the bed and tied his wrists in front of him.

Rope makes a regular appearance in most of my sessions. It's no secret that I love rope. So I'm sure nodder wasn't surprised to see me pull out a long red length.

He was surprised, however, when I pulled him from the bedroom into the bathroom while his wrists were bound.

"Lay down in the tub. I'm going to pee on you."

I pulled his bound wrists over his head and put one foot on one side of his body, the other on a ledge in the tub. He looked up at me, his big brown eyes glazed over in a way that told me he was in that delicious place in his head, his sub space.

I talked to him about what I was about to do and watched him sink deeper into sub space. I can't recall exactly what I said, only the look in his eyes and his whimper/growl in response.

I enjoy making a boy beg for me to do terrible things to him. It's my thing. It makes me inexplicably happy.

I made him ask for it. I made him beg for me to pee on him. Made him articulate why he wanted it.


And then I did it. I peed on him. He groaned as it splashed all over him and I laughed. I laughed and laughed.

Laying there drenched in my pee, his cock was rigid.

"Aww you're SO hard. I think you LIKE me peeing on you, don't you?"

He groaned and gasped, "Yes."

I put my foot on his cock as he laid there in the bottom of my tub, surprised to discover that urine makes decent lube.

Nodder has a developed somewhat of a relationship with my feet. I like teasing him about how he enjoys my feet too much. And I did so then, rubbing the sole of my foot across the length of his hard cock and laughing. He growled in response, his eyes rolling back up in his head from the sensation and the humiliation.

"Can I cum?" he was gasping within seconds.

"No," I laughed and pushed the head of his cock between my toes a few times before stopping. I knew he was right at the edge.

I let him breathe a few moments before starting again. Within seconds he was begging to cum again.

I can't remember how many times I edged him. He couldn't take much. And then I let him spurt his cum all over his belly and chest while I laughed, the stickiness mixing with the urine.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

With a nod

Over the past four years I've become increasingly orgasmic. I cannot express how grateful I am for this fact. It wasn't so long ago that I could only cum when I was on top of a man.

Yeah that should have been the first clue I was dominant.

Now I can cum from having my nipples sucked just the right way, from having my toes sucked and from being bitten on the back of the neck, inner thigh or on the area where my ass and my thigh meet. Once, when I was particularly turned on, I even came from a boy blowing on my pussy.

Yes, blowing air.

But a week ago, I came with a nod.

Seriously. He nodded, I came.

My former sub and I hadn't played in six very long weeks and we were both chomping at the bit to do so last Monday. We'd had a very hot scene that started with a massage for me and ended with bondage and water sports, had taken a dinner break, and were back at it again.

All of my play sessions with him include some kind of humiliation. He's a whore for humiliation and I can literally put him in subspace with a few well put together words.

Erotic humiliation is my forte. It's something I've become quite good at and I'm proud of the skills I developed in this area. The fact that I can make a boy blush, whimper or moan, even make his cock drip, with just a handful of softly spoken words, makes me hotter than just about anything. If I never picked up another cane or riding crop, I'd still have a fulfilling BDSM life as long as I could laugh at a boy's expense and watch their cock thicken in response.

Of everyone I've ever played with, I must admit it's my (former) sub's reactions to humiliation I've enjoyed most.

One of his biggest triggers is talk of forced bi, something that is still on his list of hard limits, something that he KNOWS is a huge turn on to me. Perhaps this is why strap-on play is so hot for us.

So last week we did some strap-on play. I used the suction cup on the dildo to stick it to the mirror and then watched him watch himself as he sucked cock.

I do so enjoy watching that boy suck my cock. Even when it's not between my legs.

Then I donned my strap-on harness and he lovingly sucked my cock from his knees, looking up at me from time to time in a way that makes me melt every time. After I fucked his face thoroughly, making him gag on my cock, I layed back on the bed to watch between me legs some more. He lavished attention on my cock, to be sure, but he didn't forget the feminine parts beneath the harness. His skillful tongue and fingers dug under the harness to the wetness beneath and found ways to excite me further.

I pulled him up over me so that I could enjoy his mouth on mine and while deep into our kiss, I felt a nudging in my groin. I broke away from our kiss and looked down.

"What are you doing?" I asked. He whimpered softly in response and looked down to where our bodies met, his cock rubbing against mine. "Are you grinding against my cock??"

He looked up and me, still grinding against my cock, his big brown eyes met mine ... and he nodded.

I came almost instantaneously. Just like that.

The excitement of the taboo nature of our play, the anticipation built up after six long weeks of play, his cock grinding against me so deliciously - it all certainly played a part in pushing me near the brink of orgasm.

But it was his nod that made me cum. It was his acknowledgement of the humiliating act in which he was engaged and our amazing connection that pushed me over the edge.

And with a nod, I came.

Monday, February 28, 2011

Trying casual play

I'm playing with the girl again tomorrow night. It'll be the first time we've played in 9 months or so and I'm looking forward to it.

No, she's not my sub anymore nor is she hoping to be again. She's a bottom who enjoys playing with Dominant females and is happy that way.

I'm not usually a fan of this kind of casual play. I know it's fun for others but I've never felt it would be fulfilling to me.

Until now. Now it seems pretty perfect.

My (former) sub and I continued playing and dating even after we broke up in November. The dating may have been casual after that but the play never was.

Play with him was amazing. Our kinks were almost perfectly matched. He was wonderfully strong in his vanilla life and beautifully submissive to me. The boy lived to make me orgasm and could do so like no one I've ever met. And I craved his every moan, whimper and growl like a PMS'ing woman craves chocolate.

I still do.

We're no longer seeing each other at all. His hours spent between my thighs have come to an end. I'll never hurt his cock again and feel it get harder or make him whimper with just a few whispered words.

As I consider my current and future play options, I find myself excited to play with the girl again. However, when I think about playing with another boy ... I feel an ache I can't describe. I actually teared up last week thinking about it.

Now you know a good chunk of the real reason I'm taking a break from D/s relationships at the moment.
And why casual play seems like a more palatable idea.

I've always turned down opportunities for casual play up until recently. I wanted the play I had to be with someone with whom I connected and with whom I had a chance of some type of a future. It was important to me.

But as I'm taking the time to heal and while I'm taking a serious look at what I want in the future, I still NEED the play.

It's not about getting laid. I can do that without involving a submissive. It's that my brain needs that stimulation I get only from controlling someone who submits control to me.

So tomorrow night the girl will call me Mistress again, serve my every whim and submit to whatever I desire. But just during the time we are together. Once we part, our D/s relationship ceases unless or until we decide to play again.

While this is not normally something that would appeal to me, it's what I think I can handle at the moment.

More than that, I think it's what I NEED. I need to be able to play and not worry about the future and relationships and just enjoy D/s play at a primal level.