tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2020238626425578942024-03-05T12:34:30.702-08:00Mistress LilyanaBisexual, lifestyle Domme, sex blogger, ruiner of men and all around delicious bitch who enjoys boys on their knees or tied to my bed. These are my Femdom musings about my adventures in the BDSM lifestyle.Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.comBlogger186125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-81238210041376133642017-05-15T09:27:00.000-07:002017-05-15T09:27:43.358-07:00Ruined<br />
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Unlike most Dommes, I'm not into cross dressing. However, I do enjoy a little feminization for humiliation purposes. </div>
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I like to dress boys in ridiculously feminine panties because it amuses me. </div>
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The more ridiculous, the better. Thongs with bows. Cherries printed across soft, pink cotton. Ruffles. Lace. Rhinestone bedazzled SLUT across the ass. Cuts so small even the smallest cock cannot be withheld. I have a collection I call 'panties for boys' that includes the most feminine panties I could find. If I wore panties, I'd never wear panties as ridiculous as the ones I acquire for boys. </div>
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I'll make boys try them on slowly and parade around my room. It makes me giggle. A lot. </div>
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Until <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2016/03/my-boy-hando-likekissinhim.html" target="_blank">Hando</a> came along and ruined it for me. </div>
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Hando is not a whore for humiliation like all of the subs who have come before him. I can't turn his desires against him with a few well chosen words. </div>
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It was my default setting with a sub up until a year ago and it's taken some adjustment for me. I still slip, from time to time, when I'm in the primal Domme headspace where nothing is calculated and everything is instinctual. The words will simply tumble out. Hando isn't offended or hurt and I no longer worry he might be. He just isn't aroused from it. </div>
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Due to this, when I play with Hando, I've steered clear of some of my favorite humiliation activities like forced feminization. And then it managed to sneak into our play during our anniversary trip in March. </div>
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"Oh wow! Look what I found," I said, digging through my giant toy bag. "I wonder if they'll even fit anymore."</div>
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"What is it?" Hando asked looking at the wad of black lace in my hands. </div>
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"These are my crotchless panties," I explained as I carefully untangled the delicate lace and satin ribbon that laced the fabric together. </div>
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"YOU own panties?" </div>
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"I have a couple of pairs. I wonder if these will still fit." I'd lost 60 lbs since I'd bought them. I delicately stepped into them and pulled them up. The lace gaped on the sides. "Nope."</div>
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Hando watched with interest, perhaps because he'd never seen me wear panties before, perhaps because of the naughtiness of the crotchless panties. Perhaps because he's simply always interested in what I'm doing. </div>
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After laughing at how poorly they fit, I slipped them off and offered them to Hando. "Want to try them on?"</div>
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"Sure."</div>
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I don't remember being surprised by his response. At the time it seemed like a natural progression to things. We'd tackled quite a few new things that weekend. A lot of them were intentional. This was almost accidental. </div>
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He tried to pull them up roughly, as all guys do when they first put on panties. They don't know that the delicate nature of panties requires a more thoughtful approach. </div>
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"Slowly. Gently," I admonished, stepping in to help straighten the lace and tie the satin ribbon. He stood there like a good boy and let me fix the panties. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYS1gViF8xRhyphenhyphenZXZEvLBcwDxjcmk6WOKYzJNfgPfcCByG7ZfD5RncH6JcbOs5eGLwq0VnrpkuvmIUiyjxctVFN-yT4LTOA6hYn2l8GpfFcTYQCY0ev8W4DTAqglshMEqJePPXjqWUU3c0/" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" id="id_5102_fd67_1d1c_6b5b" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYS1gViF8xRhyphenhyphenZXZEvLBcwDxjcmk6WOKYzJNfgPfcCByG7ZfD5RncH6JcbOs5eGLwq0VnrpkuvmIUiyjxctVFN-yT4LTOA6hYn2l8GpfFcTYQCY0ev8W4DTAqglshMEqJePPXjqWUU3c0/" style="height: auto; width: 353px;" title="" tooltip="" /></a>I took a few steps back so I could get a good look ready to coo humiliating words at him. </div>
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But he looked fucking hot in my panties. </div>
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"How do they look?" he asked. </div>
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I couldn't respond. My brain was processing the major shift. I wanted to laugh at how ridiculous he looked. Except that he didn't look ridiculous at all. </div>
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Instead of answering him, I directed him to stand in different positions so I could get a better look. I grabbed my phone and took some pictures. I showed him. </div>
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"You look hot," I declared, rather reluctantly. </div>
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"Yeah, I kind of do, don't I?"</div>
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"You're not supposed to look hot in panties," I stated flatly, defeated. I felt like he had ruined something I'd previously enjoyed so much by looking too fucking hot. </div>
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Since then, I have whined those words more than a few times. I've even yelled them at him like an accusation. </div>
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"It's not fair! You're not supposed to look that hot in panties!!" </div>
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"Can't you just enjoy how sexy I look in panties for you?" he asked after a while. </div>
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Yes. Yes, I could enjoy it. I WAS enjoying it. Begrudgingly, I had to admit I was enjoying it. </div>
Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-39952643148431248402017-04-28T07:00:00.000-07:002017-05-01T21:33:03.767-07:00Girl smorgasbord<br>
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Since Elle and I transitioned from lovers to best friends a couple of years ago, I've been looking for a girlfriend. It's something I'll put sincere effort into sporadically, then I'll get frustrated and stop looking.<br>
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But I think perhaps I've found the solution to my girl woes.<br>
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Date guys who are swingers and let them find women for me.<br>
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"There's a girl from my past who may want to play," the new guy texted.<br>
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"With us or with you?" I asked.<br>
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"Us or just you," he responded and then sent a couple of sexy selfies from her.<div><br></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">She wouldn't be the first girl I've had thanks to the new guy. We recently went to a swingers club where I had an opportunity to play with multiple women.</span><br>
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"Did I play with three or four women tonight?" I asked as he drove me home at 2:30 AM after we shut the place down. The evening was a bit of a haze for me and I could remember three different girls whose pussy's I'd licked and figured there was one more I'd at least groped.<br>
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"I think it was four or five."<br>
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"Oh geeze, really?" I didn't know whether to feel proud or slutty. "The only guys I fucked were you and Frankie though, right?"<br>
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"Yes."<br>
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It was a valid question. For whatever reason, I seem to forget about cock when I have pussy in front of me. I'd tried to warn the Maestro about it before our first threesome. He'd even jokingly called himself "the sideshow."<br>
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And he really was. I was so focused on her that when he later recounted how he'd fucked me while I was going down on her, I honestly couldn't remember that at all.<br>
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During our second threesome, I did notice the Maestro fucking me while I went down on her. And I remember feeling almost annoyed that he was distracting me from the beautiful, yummy pussy in front of me.<br>
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The truth is, I actually prefer pussy to cock, even to cock as amazing as the Maestro's. I just do. I can't help it.<br>
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Luckily, I don't have to choose. And as long as the Maestro keeps bringing me girls as fun as the last one, a young, curvy, subby girl, I'm willing to let him try to distract me with his cock while I lick her.<br>
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And apparently I don't have to choose with the new guy either. He's also a voyeur and happy to watch me give and receive pleasure from other women. And men.<br>
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We'd spotted Frankie and Kelly as they walked into the swingers club. She was a delicious, tall, curvy blond and he was slim with wavy brown, medium length hair and looked European somehow. They were tourists from Phoenix, we found out as we cuddled as we took a break from playing. Although I knew we'd played with them longer than anyone else, I couldn't be sure how long we'd played. Time seemed to fly by that evening. We'd played for more than 2 hours straight, more than half of which was with Kelly and Frankie.<br>
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"You know we fucked the hottest couple there, right?"<br>
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"Yep," the new guy responded with a smirk. And then we fist bumped. In fact we'd ended up playing with a few of the hotter couples we'd spotted that night but Kelly and Frankie had been the hottest and the most fun. He had a thick cock that couldn't be classified as a sideshow, even to Kelly's sexiness, and was an amazing kisser. She was somehow both aggressive and submissive, pouncing on me, the first woman she'd ever been with, at one moment and melting as my hands wrapped around her throat the next.<br>
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That evening, my first visit to a swingers club, really had been a blur. As open minded and sexually adventurous as I am, I still surprised myself a little with how easily I jumped into play. I've never been one for public play in the kink scene and never really wanted to play with strangers. And yet I found myself smack dab in the middle of exactly that at the swingers club, enjoying myself immensely. Enjoying other women immensely.<br>
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"It was like a girl smorgasbord for you," the new guy said the next day.<br>
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Between the new guy and the Maestro, it's been quite the girl smorgasbord lately.<br>
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And they both seem to have plans to continue supplying me with girls.<br>
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I could get used to this.</div>Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-51268431675752653632017-04-20T09:37:00.000-07:002017-04-20T09:37:00.792-07:00The most vanilla we've ever been<a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2017/03/my-boy-maestro.html" target="_blank">The Maestro</a> had invited <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2016/03/my-boy-hando-likekissinhim.html" target="_blank">Hando</a> to join him, two other women and me several weeks ago. Scheduling became complicated and like so many planned group sex events, life got in the way and it never happened.<br />
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Through some kind of cosmic miracle, the stars aligned and the Maestro, Hando and me happened to be available on the same night. The Maestro heated his magical hot tub and pool and Hando and I joined him.<br />
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Any kind of awkwardness that might have existed melted into a fun conversation where, among other things, the Maestro regaled Hando, at my request, with his recount of my interlude with the BBC and our three/foursome with the couple. And that melted into me sucking the Maestro's cock.<br />
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"Watching you suck cock might be my new favorite thing," declared Hando from his vantage point on the edge of the hot tub.<br />
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"It's hot, right?" the Maestro added. Even with my mouth full of his substantial cock, I smiled.<br />
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"Do you look that hot sucking MY cock? Now I want to watch that, you know, like I can see this now." I had to laugh a little at Hando's wonder. I also marveled at my own arousal over being watched.<br />
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Although the Maestro and I had engaged in group sex on multiple occasions during our short relationship, Hando and I had not had the opportunity. It wasn't that one or both of us weren't ready. We both love to share and are both practiced in it. We just hadn't made it happen.<br />
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Once the Maestro confirmed, I spent some time carefully considering the dilemma of Hando. Not that I for a moment doubted either of us could go through with a MMF without any jealousy or performance issues. I was worried about our default D/s setting being something that could be squelched enough to engage in group sex without triggering his subbiness.<br />
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Neither Hando nor I were comfortable with him being subby in front of the Maestro. Perhaps with someone else well versed in the lifestyle or as part of our own D/s scene where his submission was an integral part of it, but neither of us were comfortable with him being subby around another guy I'm dating.<br />
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I've used the term pseudo-vanilla to describe vanilla sex with a sub. I say pseudo-vanilla because once I know how to trigger someone's subbiness, my instinct is to do so in every sexual interaction. It's damn near impossible not to and it makes damn near all sex with a sub a little less than vanilla, even when I'm not intentionally domming someone.<br />
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You can take the girl out of the leather catsuit but you can't take the dominance out of the girl.<br />
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Not that I've ever worn a leather catsuit, but you get the point.<br />
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So my challenge in this MMF would be to somehow manage not to trigger Hando's subbiness in the middle of the MMF. To not let my Domme instinct engage.<br />
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"Can I fuck Hando without triggering his submissive side?" I texted my Domme friend.<br />
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She responded immediately with the kind of pep talk I'd only ask for or accept from her: "*my hands on your shoulders looking you in the eye* Of course you can! You are "the" Mistress Lilyana and you can order Hando not to sub out and the Maestro to DP you."<br />
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We moved the party from the hot tub to the Maestro's bed. There was a lot of cock sucking and some fucking. The positions changed but there seemed to be two cocks in me at all times.<br />
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My hands slid down Hando's shoulders but each time, I managed to catch myself before my fingertips found his nipples. It was easier than I thought to avoid touching Hando's neck - another trigger - and to curtail the dirty talk, probably because of the Maestro's energy in the mix.<br />
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Still, good boy that Hando is, he twice managed to find a Maestro-free moment to lean down and whisper in my ear.<br />
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"Mistress," he breathed. "I just want you to know that I'm still your good boy."<br />
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His admission made me smile.<br />
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As Hando and I discussed the MMF highlights the next day, Hando declared, "You know, I think that's the most vanilla we've ever been."<br />
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I had to laugh. It was true.Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-86639687381191042322017-04-11T15:30:00.000-07:002017-04-11T15:30:13.814-07:00Anniversary trip of 129 orgasms<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoPkxPksjhNzehDpmKawUtOdLW_xXcLvQBLivNWj44KHquSiGVW97wHei0sZq__nPBnrHByThWwfNbfDOcSGsqrP7GT3zdYxPFaWafy8SPKCxpiEuR2ZsKGwhyphenhyphenewafgqQfC2GPFq-NWvw/s640/blogger-image-1821415822.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoPkxPksjhNzehDpmKawUtOdLW_xXcLvQBLivNWj44KHquSiGVW97wHei0sZq__nPBnrHByThWwfNbfDOcSGsqrP7GT3zdYxPFaWafy8SPKCxpiEuR2ZsKGwhyphenhyphenewafgqQfC2GPFq-NWvw/s320/blogger-image-1821415822.jpg" width="320" /></a>It had been a year since <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2016/03/my-boy-hando-likekissinhim.html" target="_blank">Hando</a>'s nearly vanilla self stumbled into my life and as I looked at him pressed against the wall, my rope secured around his wrists, wearing my collar and lacy crotchless panties, I marveled at how rapidly we'd progressed in a year.<br />
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After some debate about how we'd celebrate our anniversary, we'd gotten a little casita near a gorgeous national park off AirBnB for the occasion. We wanted to get away but we didn't want to go somewhere too touristy knowing that we really just wanted to hole up and fuck and play the whole weekend. And we wanted to choose something nearby because we knew better than to plan for extended periods of time where fucking is not an options. Long car trips were out. The casita was only a couple of hours away. Perfect.<br />
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We'd chosen this "casita" thinking it was detached from the home and feeling like privacy was important. I didn't want some innocent family to hear his screams and moans as I thrust my cock into him. So when we arrived, we were surprised to find it attached to the family home. And to find a framed picture of Jesus by the bed.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsIEMYg3xI0KdhvuLlwUpmR2fId7UF_qZ9cKqQaZmApqoV14vClZDxloChdjYXPilA_um6VryBghIcW3DAHWXrg3hQ4hMBHp7DYWyyCKBEp-Fyt1tVQDVput4PztFkjcLm_f4cTzdAll4/s640/blogger-image-1533591234.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsIEMYg3xI0KdhvuLlwUpmR2fId7UF_qZ9cKqQaZmApqoV14vClZDxloChdjYXPilA_um6VryBghIcW3DAHWXrg3hQ4hMBHp7DYWyyCKBEp-Fyt1tVQDVput4PztFkjcLm_f4cTzdAll4/s320/blogger-image-1533591234.jpg" width="320" /></a>I'd brought my giant toy bag, of course, and I was ready to try new things.<br />
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So ready. I'd held back for a year with him and I needed to let loose. I needed to push him a bit.<br />
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"I'm not holding back anymore," I told him after I gifted him with his very own play collar. "This means you're ready."<br />
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There were many firsts that weekend - panties, rope around the neck, smothering, using my cock and ball leash and impact play. And some of my favorites with him occurred again, like him sleeping in my rope.<br />
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I'd brought the counter and we used it for every orgasm he gave me those two days in the casita. 129. Seriously. Yes, I'm that orgasmic and he's that good.<br />
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And I didn't count the orgasms he gave me in Vegas before we left or after we came back.<br />
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Believe it or not, we actually did leave the casita.<br />
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"You know I'm going to make you hike, right?"<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcAkzV5zY6YsQNDIQsh4JLgam-nQRhhq8BF3eTGA6ZaPcfjHKMNtndVhHfcCSVhJre6KHHIsy7eAj6emY98zlrrP30LoNP534Xzy-LaHZf29A2dyJAZdP0EFKIKBJ7XM3bnj_zW3T4Pes/s640/blogger-image-1234763444.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcAkzV5zY6YsQNDIQsh4JLgam-nQRhhq8BF3eTGA6ZaPcfjHKMNtndVhHfcCSVhJre6KHHIsy7eAj6emY98zlrrP30LoNP534Xzy-LaHZf29A2dyJAZdP0EFKIKBJ7XM3bnj_zW3T4Pes/s320/blogger-image-1234763444.jpg" width="320" /></a>"Yes, Ma'am," said Hando, not exactly an outdoorsy kind of guy but always my good boy and willing to do something that will put a smile on my face or an orgasm on my counter.<br />
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We also ventured out for food and fell a little bit in love with a little diner with handmade signs and gigantic muffins. I ordered for him for the first time as he sat next to me, the cock and ball leash peeking out of his waistband. I'd tug it periodically just to watch the expression on his face.<br />
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As it turns out, Jesus is a bit of a voyeur. We didn't put the framed picture of Jesus away but we did "decorate" the bedside table where he sat and watched.<br />
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"This place will not see this much sex for the next year," Hando commented as we packed. "Maybe 6 years," he added with a laugh.<br />
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And as I packed away the counter with 129 displayed in the window, I had to agree.Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-89558257910666754002017-04-05T07:17:00.000-07:002017-04-05T07:17:17.533-07:00Christmas bondage<a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2016/03/my-boy-hando-likekissinhim.html" target="_blank">Hando</a> was working abroad during Christmas. We managed to exchange Christmas gifts via FaceTime but it wasn't until recently that we were able to celebrate Christmas together properly.<br />
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I wanted to spend the day watching Christmas movies and listening to Christmas music. I'd left my Christmas decorations up for the occasion. I had planned to make him dinner, eat on the good china and drink from the good crystal. He called them my "adorable plans" and was such a good boy to indulge me.<br />
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The night before our Christmas, we'd had a lot of intense play that culminated in rope and strap-on play. <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2016/09/boys-with-handles_11.html?m=1" target="_blank">I'd tied him in a chest harness so he'd have handles, just as I had before</a>. And as we decompressed, I contemplated removing the rope and was a little sad about the idea.<br />
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"I wish I could sleep in your rope," Hando said, reading my mind. I couldn't help but moan at the idea.<br />
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I've always wanted to have a sub tied up while they slept but had never executed the idea primarily because I rather enjoy being spooned while I sleep. However, cuddling and sleeping with Hando usually means he's in my arms with his head on my chest - a position more conducive to bedtime bondage.<br />
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I tied cuffs on each wrist and joined them about 14" apart. I wanted him to be able to move just enough to be fairly comfortable but not so comfortable that he was able to forget he was in my rope. And I left him in the chest harness.<br />
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As soon as I had his wrists tied, he curled up into an adorable ball of hotness, I wrapped my arms around him and well fell asleep.<br />
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The next morning, he awoke with a sleepy smile looking hotter than ever still in my rope and still in sub space. I held him and gently squeezed the rope around his wrists thinking about the delicious ligature marks he'd have when I untied him.<br />
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I'm not sure at what point I decided not to untie him. We had no plans to leave the house, only to celebrate Christmas, so I kept him naked in nothing but my rope. All. Day. Long.<br />
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We played. We snuggled on the sofa and watched White Christmas. He knelt on a pillow on the kitchen floor while I cooked. We ate a delicious dinner off my Waterford china and sipped a crisp Riesling from crystal goblets. And all of the while he was wrapped in my scarlet hemp rope, deep in sub space.<br />
<br />
Watching a sub experience the high of sub space is so hot for me. I love how their faces relax. I love the blissful smile. I love the soft tone they use to speak to me. I love knowing I put them there.<br />
<br />
Hando was in sub space for more than 24 hours and it was so fucking hot. He was deliciously deeper than he'd ever been before and certainly much longer. Of all of the D/s play I've experienced, it felt the most immersive, even to me.<br />
<br />
But, alas, it came time to unwrap the gift that was Hando. And as I traced the marks my scarlet rope left on his skin with my tongue, I smiled. It was a Christmas I'll never forget.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-22944488690251656722017-03-28T21:17:00.000-07:002017-03-28T21:17:03.819-07:00The Maestro and the BBCIt's always a relief to meet someone new that can happily navigate open relationships and who enjoys sex. But rarely do I meet someone more pervy than me.<br />
<br />
For my third date with <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2017/03/my-boy-maestro.html" target="_blank">the Maestro</a>, he orchestrated a threesome with another open, bisexual woman that he's seeing. Yes, our THIRD date.<br />
<br />
And it was fantastic.<br />
<br />
We've also played with another couple. Actually, we were the wife's Valentine's Day gift. And I was her first taste of woman.<br />
<br />
But the Maestro enjoys watching, a lot. And while he certainly enjoyed watching me with women, he was interested in watching me with another guy.<br />
<br />
"I've never had BBC (big black cock)," I had revealed to him early in our relationship.<br />
<br />
"Really? We should make that happen. I'd love to see that."<br />
<br />
A few weeks later, we'd set aside an evening to spend time together.<br />
<br />
"Want to order in dinner?" The Maestro texted.<br />
<br />
"I thought you were getting me a BBC," I joked.<br />
<br />
"Oh I can do that."<br />
<br />
I thought he might also be joking, but when I arrived at his house, the email responses to his craigslist ad had begun to roll in, his phone dinging every minute or two.<br />
<br />
I began to think that maybe I hadn't been joking with him. It seemed like a great idea. I could get BIG cock and the Maestro would get to watch. And once again, I'd get to share a pervy experience with him.<br />
<br />
I chose the guy and gave him my limits but I let him coordinate. I let the Maestro orchestrate it.<br />
<br />
It went off without a hitch. The guy, later described as "A black god" by the Maestro, was indeed hot as fuck, ripped and had a giant cock. But he was also a great kisser and very gentle.<br />
<br />
I had envisioned having BBC while someone watched many times before but it was always with cucking and forced bi as part of the scene. In my head, it was going to be about enjoying BBC without regard to whoever was watching.<br />
<br />
This was very different from everything I'd imagined. Yes, it was very much about enjoying BBC but there was no D/s involved at all.<br />
<br />
Well, I MIGHT have gotten just a little toppy. I did ask him to stand in a certain spot and slowly remove his clothes. But I didn't dominate him.<br />
<br />
Seriously. I didn't.<br />
<br />
I had fun playing with him while the Maestro watched. It felt liberating to enjoy a scene I didn't have to coordinate.<br />
<br />
There's a certain freedom in enjoying a hedonistic guy like the Maestro and his non D/s perviness. He doesn't give a shit about my Mistressness and I'm able to engage with him (and whoever else we involve in our shenanigans) on a purely sexual level.Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-9546818513952080662017-03-28T21:13:00.000-07:002017-03-28T21:13:56.733-07:00My boy, the Maestro<b>D/s relationship status: none</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Relationship status: dating </b><br />
<br />
The Maestro came up as a high match for me on OKCupid, probably because he also enjoys open relationships. Although he does have a little bit of a kinky side, he's not into BDSM. He's a consummate voyeur with a network of sexually open people. He earned the pseudonym "The Maestro" because of his innate ability to orchestrate group sex fun.
<br />
<br />
Read <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/search/label/the%20Maestro" target="_blank">blogs about the Maestro</a>Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-74593907444284564172017-03-14T21:45:00.000-07:002017-03-14T21:54:43.978-07:00My typeUntil a few years ago, I'd always claimed I didn't have a type. True, I'd enjoyed an exotic men phase (Indian, Egyptian, Iranian, French and Italian) and I'd always enjoyed younger men, but physically, there were few similarities among the men I dated.<br />
<br />
And then nodder shaved his head.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2014/06/shaved-head.html" target="_blank">Well, actually I shaved nodder's head but that's another story.</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2010/10/my-boy-my-sub.html" target="_blank">Nodder</a>, <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2011/09/my-boy-bon-bon.html" target="_blank">bon-bon</a> and <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2016/07/my-boy-my-pet-object.html" target="_blank">my pet object</a>, I realized then, were all bald, submissive guys from New England. Nodder and my pet object both sported goatees also. I had to finally admit I have a type.<br />
<br />
And then almost a year ago, I started dating <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2016/03/my-boy-hando-likekissinhim.html" target="_blank">Hando</a>. He wasn't submissive when I found him and isn't from New England but is bald and has a goatee. He's also the same height and roughly the same build as bon-bon and my pet object.<br />
<br />
It was about that time that I started noticing an attraction to random bald guys I'd run across. I'd immediately think of how their head and bare shoulders would look from my point of view as they bent between my thighs to lick my pussy.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguCF_SQGmT6V37yaf8TKBY2IioHcDVsHTMwdD4fsCyo6ZU8I-PmgVg0KBA2OJpVyvNIiRJ2cKDNIvyC76ybAnDLEq-uVMflFfeEN1BGKKNPV9vUNF5e4T62BzIwGvJQO2iMgsDUN6ixDg/s640/blogger-image--1310077860.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguCF_SQGmT6V37yaf8TKBY2IioHcDVsHTMwdD4fsCyo6ZU8I-PmgVg0KBA2OJpVyvNIiRJ2cKDNIvyC76ybAnDLEq-uVMflFfeEN1BGKKNPV9vUNF5e4T62BzIwGvJQO2iMgsDUN6ixDg/s320/blogger-image--1310077860.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I mean seriously. How hot is that?<br />
<br />
This fall I took my pet object to a sporting event where he met many of my coworkers including bon-bon. In fact, he was seated right next to bon-bon and they chatted a bit about New England throughout the event. They even shared a joke about me having "a type."<br />
<br />
When I visited Hando during Thanksgiving, I posted some pictures on Facebook of us and wondered if my coworkers would notice that it wasn't the same bald, medium height guy with light eyes and facial hair. No one ever commented so I never had to laugh off the whole "Yes, I have two boyfriends" idea as an explanation. I figured they'd assume it was the same guy if they even cared at all.<br />
<br />
This past weekend, bon-bon and his girlfriend hosted a party attended by many of our coworkers. I took Hando.<br />
<br />
I wondered how many of my coworkers would mistake him for my pet object. In fact, I texted my pet object right before the party and told him.<br />
<br />
"Wanna make a bet on whether someone mistakes him for you?"<br />
<br />
"Oh that's gonna happen," he said.<br />
<br />
Each time I introduced Hando to someone who had met my pet object, I waited for them to say, "Good to see you again" or "I think we've met before" but it didn't happen.<br />
<br />
And then bon-bon caught me in the kitchen without Hando and said, "Hey, I didn't want to say anything but isn't that the guy you brought to the sporting event?"<br />
<br />
Bon-bon and I have grown close over the past year. He's begun introducing me as one of his best friends. He knows me well, knows about both Hando and my pet object and KNEW I was bringing Hando to the party.<br />
<br />
So needless to say, I was blown away that HE was the one who couldn't tell them apart.<br />
<br />
I guess I should be grateful it was him and not another coworker. The last thing I need is for my and bon-bon's coworkers to notice that I have a type and that type is bon-bon.<br />
<br />
As we circulated and said our goodbyes, I found Hando talking to bon-bon. Their height, their coloring, their shiny shaved heads - even their eye glasses are so similar that as I approached them, I had to smile.<br />
<br />
Yep, I have a type. Now let's just hope my coworkers don't figure that out.Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-17516041707782524982017-01-09T20:53:00.000-08:002017-01-09T20:53:32.959-08:00What I learned in 2016In my Domme prime when I regularly considered new subs, I steered clear of newbies. I'd learned very quickly that boys who were new to the lifestyle had learned what they thought was submission from porn and didn't understand the loving relationship aspect of the lifestyle that I treasured. I found many who identified as submissive simply had a submissive fetish or two and wanted a Domme as a fetish delivery system. I've also found that newbies are more likely to disappear when confronted with a new experience that overwhelms them. They simply aren't committed because they haven't had enough experience to know definitely they are submissive and that they sincerely want D/s.<br />
<br />
Seasoned subs understand that my pleasure comes first without me explaining it. They're basically happy as long as I'm pleased. And because they know what they are getting into, the usually don't disappear. They actually show up and they stick around through the tough stuff, even when they are overwhelmed. I enjoy the simplicity of the arrangement so when I consider a new sub, I look for a seasoned sub.<br />
<br />
When I met <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2016/03/my-boy-hando-likekissinhim.html" target="_blank">Hando</a> a year ago, I immediately disclosed that I was kinky. He wasn't kinky but mentioned a curiosity so I gave him a link to my blog.<br />
<br />
When we started dating last spring, other than being very much a gentleman, he gave me no submissive vibes and didn't stoke my Domme fire at all.<br />
<br />
As much as I love making a boy a subby puddle, there's a lovely freedom in having a partner I'm not dominating. I'd really thought Hando was going to be that. However, when we began sleeping together, I stumbled upon a few things that triggered a submissiveness he didn't know existed - one that I hadn't suspected was there either. One that my finely tuned Domme radar had missed.<br />
<br />
It's not the first time I've "turned" a vanilla guy. If there's any submissiveness in a guy, I'll find it and drag it out of him. It's who I am - a sub magnet. However, I must admit, I'm always a little disappointed when that happens because I really do treasure the partners I have that do not submit.<br />
<br />
So when I found Hando's subby triggers, I was surprised to find myself excited to show him the ropes, pardon the pun.<br />
<br />
Why is it different with Hando? The obvious answer would be our connection and my affection for him. The fact is, when I love a sub, I'm a different Domme. Softer for sure. Perhaps more patient, definitely more tolerant and open.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's how naturally he took to kink. It's taken very little direction or redirection to get the behavior I am looking for from him and even that has been FAR more enjoyable than I recall it being with other newbies back in the olden days when I still considered them.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2016/08/why-do-i-like-it-so-much.html" target="_blank">I really love to watch Hando process new kinky things</a>. He's an amazing communicator who has zero issue telling me pretty much every thought in his head and that gives me enormous insight into what's going on in there. And it's so fucking hot to be a part of that.<br />
<br />
I must admit, I have really enjoyed watching him experience everything for the first time. It wasn't a chore. It wasn't frustrating. It was beautiful and I will always cherish being a part of that.<br />
<br />
As I tell Hando, you never get another first time. Each first should be savored and enjoyed.<br />
<br />
And that's how I feel about this first for me. What I learned in 2016 is that I CAN enjoy a newbie.Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-91235473211256384472016-12-28T16:27:00.001-08:002016-12-28T16:27:34.471-08:00Fucking priorities<a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2016/03/my-boy-hando-likekissinhim.html" target="_blank">Hando</a> has been working abroad through much of our 10 month relationship. In those precious times we are together, we are in bed 90% of the time. And I'm just counting the time we are awake in bed. <br />
<br />
"You know what I love about you?" Hando asked last summer as we got dressed after yet another round in bed. "I love that you just assume we are going to have sex before we go anywhere, even if we are just going out to dinner."<br />
<br />
The truth is, I haven't had a partner I've wanted to constantly fuck like I do Hando since I was in my twenties. So when Hando brought it up, it gave me a little pause.<br />
<br />
Was I using him? No, I decided after some consideration. When we are apart, we text and talk on the phone constantly so it's not like we don't know HOW to communicate or don't want to. We communicate amazingly well as best friends and lovers. And we do occasionally drag ourselves out in public with friends. It's just when we have time to spend together, we prefer to spend it in bed.<br />
<br />
So as we planned my November visit, we joked about leaving time in the itinerary to fuck. Well, it wasn't much of a joke. We were pretty serious about making it a priority. Still, he had a long list of places he wanted to show me. And I knew I needed to take lots of pictures so I'd have evidence I didn't fuck my way through the islands.<br />
<br />
Upon my arrival, I found Hando looking as delicious as ever even though he was standing in a light drizzle of rain in a t-shirt, swim trunks and flip flops. As we kissed for the first time in three months, my hands moved from his neck to his shoulders and down his upper arms before my thumbs found his nipples. He sighed into my mouth.<br />
<br />
I was ready to take him back to his room and have my way with him but we had a driver waiting and plans for the afternoon. But for that moment, I didn't care. I didn't care who was waiting or who was watching.<br />
<br />
We eventually tore ourselves away from each other and proceeded with our afternoon plans to snorkel. The fish were beautiful but what I'll remember about that day was wrapping my legs around him and making out in the waves. Or perhaps it'll be how I had to leave him in the water while his erection diminished, smirking as I made my way across the sand.<br />
<br />
When I finally got him alone in his room, we made love and fucked and fucked and made love until he had to get ready for work. It was damn near miraculous he wasn't late since we didn't really know how to do a quickie.<br />
<br />
No, really. We didn't. We've even tried once last summer. Still in bed two and a half hours later, we found ourselves laughing at our attempt.<br />
<br />
I say we didn't (past tense) know how to have a quickie because we kind of figured it out on my second day there, though perhaps it was mostly because we fucked in the backseat his tiny rental car. Twice. We had been in a hurry to leave that morning and had begrudgingly skipped morning sex and there was clearly no way we were going to make it through a whole day together without fucking even with the gorgeousness of the island trying to distract us. Thank goodness for dark parking lots.<br />
<br />
(My apologies to the guy who had to clean the car after we returned it. I wonder if they noticed I squirted all over the seat.)<br />
<br />
Although we had an invitation to meet his best friend out, we opted for alone time in a proper bed so we could fuck and play properly.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtHOP3Q_cYKNozm7XIzOYyB0p3CYBAfypBJ0NMRqgsbDu9toGQyhbZ0gcEhJsV0Vlv3n0NcmkrMYprfrdcLKyLsVSJwf95ZjymoKIhAPOmw-I9KvWHpLGL-JAYjnGvfcNIIksSSRh9QTI/s640/blogger-image-1018628231.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtHOP3Q_cYKNozm7XIzOYyB0p3CYBAfypBJ0NMRqgsbDu9toGQyhbZ0gcEhJsV0Vlv3n0NcmkrMYprfrdcLKyLsVSJwf95ZjymoKIhAPOmw-I9KvWHpLGL-JAYjnGvfcNIIksSSRh9QTI/s200/blogger-image-1018628231.jpg" width="200" /></a>The rest of the week was a blur of waterfalls, sea turtles, beaches and surf. We drove so many places to see so many beautiful things. I'm glad we have pictures - far too many selfies of us as well as a few shots of the beauty around us - because the memories I will treasure were not of landmarks but of moments.<br />
<div>
<br />
Sitting on the sea wall watching the black crabs scurry across the rocks below and making up stories about warring crab tribes living on opposing rock groupings.<br />
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Using a crowd counter to tally my orgasms and how he snickered each time he heard the click.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgJ4KLCAGwGipuxMU86WGNpxXBWt1bne1INyM_hj1VJZr8JBCPoq8N_hU7ZXWRJjynO7JMXiKK1kkIooOqNaX25o-4ByA63Ru1tzdBUsHHdSNVoChaMs-gNwT1rFtlY8cT2TgM_2YeFuA/s640/blogger-image--944896149.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgJ4KLCAGwGipuxMU86WGNpxXBWt1bne1INyM_hj1VJZr8JBCPoq8N_hU7ZXWRJjynO7JMXiKK1kkIooOqNaX25o-4ByA63Ru1tzdBUsHHdSNVoChaMs-gNwT1rFtlY8cT2TgM_2YeFuA/s200/blogger-image--944896149.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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Laying on the beach with my head in his lap.<br />
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Watching him perform and not being able to stop thinking about how he had looked under me just minutes before.<br />
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What the ligature marks on his wrists felt like on my tongue after I'd untied him.<br />
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Being constantly distracted by the tiny circles his thumb made with the hand on my thigh as we drove around. Distracted and so aroused.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuz1I1ltyaMYxxzQCcS83YY7_YmrzF7_BTOvsoYz2kCrefFX5ErHCq5NysVcObKKIv2orTC1R484WnKDgHjulGCqcru0_g6dGjI1R2jtYyG0yEDL10_IYXTJkuyGmTCNESBP1MSPLqEZY/s640/blogger-image--1311100276.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuz1I1ltyaMYxxzQCcS83YY7_YmrzF7_BTOvsoYz2kCrefFX5ErHCq5NysVcObKKIv2orTC1R484WnKDgHjulGCqcru0_g6dGjI1R2jtYyG0yEDL10_IYXTJkuyGmTCNESBP1MSPLqEZY/s200/blogger-image--1311100276.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
<br />
Watching the sunset over the ocean.<br />
<br />
Frolicking naked in a beautiful waterfall while Hando watched and cheered me on. Swimming to the waterfall and then floating away on my back as the pounding of the icy drops on my body became a soft misty caress, then swimming back to the falls and floating away again.<br />
Too many amazing memories to list here.<br />
<br />
And yes, there was plenty of sex. Not as much as either of us would have liked, but honestly, if we'd stayed in bed the entire week, I don't know that it would have been enough. That's just who we are. We may never get enough of each other and fucking is simply a priority for us.<br />
<br />
What I learned from my week with Hando is that it IS possible for us to be together for more than a couple of hours without fucking. Improbable but possible if we have the beauty of tropical islands to distract us.<br />
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Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-79081113282307109702016-09-17T08:26:00.000-07:002016-09-17T08:26:04.278-07:00"It's not like I need it anymore" - by my pet object<div>
<i><a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2016/07/my-boy-my-pet-object.html" target="_blank">My pet object</a> recently surprised me with this delicious little morsel of writing. It's a piece from his perspective on the fun with chastity and strap-on play that I've written about in <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2016/07/lack-of-dickstraction-and-my-perfect.html" target="_blank">"Lack of dickstraction and my perfect fuchsia dildo"</a> and <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2016/08/why-do-i-like-it-so-much.html" target="_blank">"'Why do I like it so much?'"</a> </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I just HAD to share it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.</i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimCxu-Qna2uuggLTuc1bwunrsvlAOrCl-sf99wNP6J0o4qakLZFJyTcGKL5_YhRhRBbqU-Zd0oaSnE1Q12v7UnLshBgweaUoahaghtW8RTOdOpa-_ywuELUaQdaLHjJnaXQSzR9Rcuq40/s640/blogger-image-1333611177.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimCxu-Qna2uuggLTuc1bwunrsvlAOrCl-sf99wNP6J0o4qakLZFJyTcGKL5_YhRhRBbqU-Zd0oaSnE1Q12v7UnLshBgweaUoahaghtW8RTOdOpa-_ywuELUaQdaLHjJnaXQSzR9Rcuq40/s400/blogger-image-1333611177.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
I thrust into Mistress Lilyana yet again with the fuchsia cock she had replaced mine with, feeling the pressure of her orgasm through the base of the dildo against my skin. It was only one of many orgasms she had that afternoon but this one caused a delicious smile to creep across her face. </div>
<div>
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She was sated, for now. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
She was sated in a way I could never be capable of, sweat dripped off me as I fucked her to the edge of my own body’s stamina. My own cock was locked in the clear cage it had been locked in all weekend. Smashed against the hard plastic, hopelessly trying to escape it’s prison. Unable to feel anything whatsoever besides the pressure of it’s own frustration.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
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“My cock is so hard right now,” I exclaimed with a sheepish grin on my face, still breathing heavily. </div>
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“I don’t know why,” she responded with a laugh, missing no small amount of sadistic glee. “Is it confused?” she asked sarcastically. “It’s not like I need it anymore.” </div>
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A rush came over my body as the words exited her mouth. My face turned red and my whole body tingled as a flood of conflicting emotions coursed through my body. Unable to respond my mouth hung open, agape in shock while the corners of my mouth betrayed my true feelings as they simultaneously curled into the slightest of smiles.</div>
Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-47849229316990789962016-09-11T11:09:00.000-07:002016-09-11T11:46:34.163-07:00Boys with handlesSomething happens to me when I put on my cock. To say I get aggressive might be an understatement. And with every whimper, cry or moan, my aggression grows.<br />
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When I'm wearing a strap-on, I can't get deep enough or fuck him hard enough. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to. </div>
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Oh but do I try.</div>
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I've found that rope helps. Well, it goes without saying that <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2011/04/everything-is-better-with-rope.html" target="_blank">everything is better with rope</a> BUT I've found that it really helps with pegging. </div>
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How, you may ask? Well, the title of the blog gave my secret away. I give boys handles. Beautifully tied hemp rope handles. </div>
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Most recently, I've tied two different types of handles on two different boys. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitVIKJ_uOYjUMHNGheyiSg8M1cKvZbJl2l_9PgaKgONO-nH8AtNpTSzX8cjXPKRJsajZ8u_bzDJgu8xBIRqgewYlNDqA5Yqp8jURTMGQkNqTnAZZp9bn6WJX78GfDbxqviJFo9hZzWWS8/s640/blogger-image--989493730.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitVIKJ_uOYjUMHNGheyiSg8M1cKvZbJl2l_9PgaKgONO-nH8AtNpTSzX8cjXPKRJsajZ8u_bzDJgu8xBIRqgewYlNDqA5Yqp8jURTMGQkNqTnAZZp9bn6WJX78GfDbxqviJFo9hZzWWS8/s320/blogger-image--989493730.jpg" width="320" /></a>On <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2016/07/my-boy-my-pet-object.html" target="_blank">my pet object</a>, I used a gunslinger harness to give him handles along both his hips. I didn't stop to take pics. I wish I had. That happens sometimes when I'm playing. I'm more into the moment then I am preserving the memory. But this is kind of what it looked like except there were handles on both hips. And he was naked. </div>
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I pulled out two 30 foot lengths of my scarlet hemp rope and watched my pet object's eyes light up. I sat on the edge of my bed and had him stand before me as I added handles to him. Due to the wrapping on the sides, the tie takes a bit longer than others and we both savored every moment.<br />
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I'd forgotten how much he enjoyed me tying him up. Or maybe he enjoyed it more this time than others. Or maybe I just happened to notice this time. But he was all subby shy smiles while I wrapped my rope around his waist and thighs. </div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">When all 60 feet of hemp was securely tied to him, I pushed him face down over the edge of the bed I'd been sitting on and prepped for pegging. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Although my style of strap-on play might be best characterized as brutal, I'm not a total monster. I lubed him thoroughly and warmed him up a bit before shoving my cock into his ass. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Okay okay, if I'm being truthful, I gently pushed it in the first time and even let him adjust to it. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">And then I brutally fucked him. </span></div>
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On <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2016/03/my-boy-hando-likekissinhim.html" target="_blank">Hando</a>, I created handles on the back of chest harness. This time, I remembered to stop and take a picture.<br />
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As I pulled out my rope, Hando stood in in front of me and extended his wrists together expectedly.<br />
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"Nope. Today I'm giving you handles."<br />
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I turned him away from me, reached under his arms in front of him and started wrapping my rope around his chest.<br />
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Once I'd completed the harness with wrapped handles, I grabbed the handles firmly, gave him a shove and yanked him back towards me. He gasped a little at the surprise.<br />
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"That'll work."<br />
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And then I guided him to my dresser mirror so he could look at himself in the mirror.<br />
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"Do you see how hot you look in my rope?"<br />
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"Yes, ma'am," he almost whispered.<br />
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And then I prepped him for pegging before I brutally fucked him.<br />
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As much as I enjoy pegging in a missionary position so I can watch their faces, sometimes I just want to unleash my aggressive side and fuck a boy HARD and deep. And that's just what I did.<br />
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The rope handles provide the additional grip and leverage I need to get deep. I can pull him onto my cock HARD as I'm thrusting into him. I can easily establish a rhythm.<br />
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And it's a great upper body work out. The day after giving my pet object handles, my shoulders were a bit sore because at one point, he'd totally surrendered to become a pile of subby boy goo, almost limp from sensation, and I'd seized the rope handles on his hips and continued fucking him without much of any help from him at all.<br />
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He was hole for me to use and I told him so. "Yes, Mistress," he moaned into my mattress.</div>
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Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-53983932076136578922016-09-01T09:00:00.000-07:002016-09-01T09:00:17.335-07:00The night I found him kneeling for me"Let yourself in. Undress downstairs and come upstairs to me in nothing but the steel plug," I'd texted <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2016/03/my-boy-hando-likekissinhim.html" target="_blank">Hando</a> as I was getting ready for bed.<br />
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Just as I was putting toothpaste on my toothbrush, I heard a soft, "Hey there" from my bedroom. I peeked out of the bathroom to find him kneeling naked, palms on his thighs.</div>
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I was surprised and pleased and instantly wet at his thoughtful gesture of kneeling for me without me asking. </div>
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He's knelt for me a few times. Not as often as I'd ask of a seasoned sub. I'm not entirely sure why I don't ask him to kneel for me more often. I love the way he looks up at me and he is just so fucking hot while he's doing it. </div>
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"I just want to look at you a while," I said, sitting on the end of the bed while I removed my makeup with a cloth, relishing the very erotic turn my nightly ritual had taken. I soaked up the display that he presented as we made sexy small talk.</div>
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"Come here," I finally beckoned. And he walked on his knees the short distance to where I sat in the bed. I splayed my fingers around his neck as he turned his face up to me for a kiss. I put my lips to his and gently bit the bottom one. He sighed and melted. </div>
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He oozed submissiveness in a way I'd never felt from him before as I explored his neck, shoulders and chest with my fingertips. Or perhaps it was my own headspace. Regardless, his reactions provoked my inner Domme and I felt more powerful than ever as I basked in the yummy subby energy that rolled off of him and enveloped me. </div>
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He ran his hands slowly up my legs under my long sundress. I should have chided him for not asking permission but I couldn't. He was simply seeking more skin to skin contact, as he often does. In doing so, I discovered I was craving his hands on me too. </div>
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I continued to kiss him, pausing for a few moments here and there to nibble on his neck and ears. My fingertips traveled down his chest to his nipples as if drawn there by magnets. With each sigh he melted further, dragging me into the dangerous Domme headspace where I wanted to take full advantage of every morsel of subbiness he had to give. </div>
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I wanted to bite him. I wanted to mark him. I wanted to push him down onto my bed, yank out the butt plug and thrust my cock into him. Instead I scratched him firmly but not firmly enough to leave marks. I wanted to grab his chin, look in his eyes, say something filthy and then smirk while I watched him react to my cruel words. But I didn't. </div>
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"You're fighting it, aren't you?"</div>
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"Yes," I admitted.</div>
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"Can't you open the door just a little? Let just a little out?"</div>
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I didn't respond for a what seemed like a long while. I continued to kiss him and touch him while I contemplated.</div>
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"No, I don't think so."</div>
Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-54300004892573810292016-08-27T20:59:00.002-07:002016-08-28T17:32:24.376-07:00"Why do I like it so much?"My new favorite thing is watching the range of emotions on a guy's face as he processes a new kinky experience.<br />
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So fucking hot. </div>
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I'm seeing it a lot with <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2016/03/my-boy-hando-likekissinhim.html" target="_blank">Hando</a> as I'm introducing new things to him regularly. And to be honest, now that I know how much it arouses me, sometimes I step things up just to see his reactions. </div>
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I'll never forget how he looked the first time I asked him to kneel for me. The first time I made him suck my cock.</div>
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Hando's face is among the most expressive I've ever seen. I'm not sure if it's the fact that he's a performer or what but I love to watch his face when we play. </div>
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Wonder. Delight. Excitement. Bewilderment. Surprise. Confusion. I've watched all of those and more play out across his face in a matter of moments as he processes something new. </div>
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I see a lot of confusion. Brows furrowed for a moment or two before he melts into subbiness. </div>
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It makes me smile. I delight in it. </div>
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When we started down this path in March, one night he tentatively licked my ass completely unprompted. I reveled in him doing it, but I didn't realize the significance until we discussed it later. He knew I enjoyed it, but because he's a self proclaimed germophobe, he couldn't believe he'd done it. </div>
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And he was astounded that he found himself thinking about it a lot and wanted to do it again. </div>
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Then he was away for a few months for work but periodically, he'd articulate his desire to lick my ass. </div>
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"Why do I want it so much?" </div>
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I'd always snicker. And in the beginning, I also explained that he wants to please me and he knows I enjoy it. I'd <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">tell him it's in his nature to please. That it's part of our dynamic. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Of course it's also naughty as fuck. That has something to do with it. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">It's been a recurring question from him, though less as of late. It's not because he's no longer "leveling up" as rapidly as before though. Of course I'm still enjoying watching the conflicting emotions play out across his face, but I don't hear the question as often. I assumed it was because he knew the answer. That Hando understood his subbiness now. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">So imagine my surprise when, in the middle of an intense scene weekend before last, <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2016/07/my-boy-my-pet-object.html" target="_blank">my pet object</a>, a seasoned sub, blurted out, "Why do I like it so much?"</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Of course I laughed. I laughed at his confusion. I laughed at the conflict so clearly written across his adorable face. I laughed at his torment. I laughed at the fact that I'm getting such similar questions from both guys I'm topping.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Not only had my pet object read <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2016/07/lack-of-dickstraction-and-my-perfect.html" target="_blank">my blog</a>, he'd heard me mention more than once during conversations that there was a pretty good chance he wouldn't be putting his dick in me. Why would I when I could make him fuck me with my perfect pink dildo? </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I'd locked</span><span style="background-color: rgba(255 , 255 , 255 , 0); font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"> up his cock within an hour of his arrival. And he stayed locked up all weekend long. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255 , 255 , 255 , 0); font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Of course I teased him about it. I asked him if he remembered how good my pussy felt. I told him he might not ever feel it again.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255 , 255 , 255 , 0); font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">"Why do I like it so much?" my pet object asked as I came on the large pink dildo strapped above his locked up cock yet again. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255 , 255 , 255 , 0); font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">I laughed, of course. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">The truth is, they like it and want it so much because it's very naughty and very humiliating. It's also because they both have a connection with me and they know they're pleasing me. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">It's not enough to know those things though. The conflict continues whether they verbalize it or whether it just plays out across their faces while they process everything. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">And it's so fucking hot for me. </span></span></div>
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Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-16486632354799052732016-08-20T18:33:00.001-07:002016-08-20T19:11:16.925-07:00The ultimate compliment<div>"I trust you and your judgement. And you know what I'm ready for and not ready for."</div><div><br></div><div>"I do but I LOVE hearing you say that."</div><div><br></div><div>"I will do whatever you want."</div><div><br></div>I marvel at how safe Hando feels with me and how much he trusts me when he knows exactly what I'm capable of. <div><br></div><div>He's read my blog. He's read the story the girl wrote about an incredibly brutal scene I did with her - one too intense to post here.</div><div><br></div><div>He's seen me deny my pet object. He's even commented on my meanness. </div><div><br></div><div>And although I am usually capable of holding back my RAWR, he's seen me slip into the primal Domme headspace for a few moments. </div><div><br></div><div>It's a place I try not to go with him. He's still so new and I feel more certain than he is that he's not ready for me to let my primal instincts free. He's not ready for the biting, spitting, face slapping let alone the stream of verbal humiliation that seems to flow from my mouth when I really cut loose. </div><div><br></div><div>He knows what I'm capable of. He knows I could focus my brutality on him. In the best case scenario, he knows I could put him into a scene that pushes his limits in an uncomfortable way. </div><div><br></div><div>And yet he completely trusts me. </div><div><br></div><div>Am I worthy of that trust? With each deep breath I take as I fight not to sink deeper into the primal side of my Dommeness when I play with him, with each time I elect not to give voice to the naughty things in my head, as I continue to trust the instincts that have never let me wrong, I know that I am worthy of the trust. </div><div><br></div><div>And yet I'm still amazed that he so completely trusts me. It's the ultimate compliment. </div>Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-26241582906031369892016-07-31T19:32:00.000-07:002016-07-31T19:32:30.187-07:00Lack of dickstraction and my perfect fuchsia dildoI had <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/search/label/my%20pet%20object" target="_blank">my pet object</a> in my bed in a matter of minutes after his arrival. No D/s play, just two people hungry for each other.<br />
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I didn't think about the brand new Holy Trainer 2 chastity device still in the packaging just a few feet away as I enjoyed being wrapped around him. If I had, I'd have probably been a little sad about the idea of locking him up. </div>
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The truth is, I like fucking my subs. I just do. I enjoy connecting that way and physically, I just fucking like it. </div>
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For me, D/s has always been about the sex. And I've always been a little conflicted about chastity. The mindfuck is a delicious but in the end, I still want a deep dicking that can't happen when his cock is locked up. </div>
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Still, I gleefully locked my pet object's cock up not long after we had sex. After all, I had the keys. I could unlock him whenever I wanted, use his cock and then lock him back up again. </div>
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The next day, he served me and two friends poolside. I enjoyed knowing he was collared, locked up in the black panties with SLUT spelled across the ass in rhinestones. I had fun tapping on the plastic encasing his cock and hearing him wince or sigh. Or both. </div>
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Later that night, I helped him into my strap-on harness for the first time. After awkwardly pulling at the various straps, my perfect fuchsia dildo was perfectly position beyond his locked up cock. </div>
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With that fuchsia dildo, he proceeded to give me the deep dicking I deserved. I never missed his cock. Not even a little. </div>
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He was completely focused on me and my pleasure. Once he hit the perfect rhythm, depth and angle, I told him not to stop and then proceeded to have multiple orgasms all over my fuchsia cock. There was no dickstraction on his part because he couldn't feel a thing. </div>
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Actually, the latter part of that last statement is not completely true. Miraculously, he seemed to know exactly when my pussy was pulsing around the fuchsia cock strapped onto his groin. His moans and gasps told me he was actually feeling it. </div>
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Only he totally wasn't. He was just very, very focused on me. Not even a little bit dickstracted. </div>
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I teased him about how good it felt. How my perfectly sized and shaped fuchsia dildo was the perfect cock. I told him I may never need to use his cock again. </div>
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It was the heat of the moment - the kind of moment where something ridiculously hot flows out of my mouth on instinct, completely unplanned.<br />
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Sometimes I'm surprised by what comes out of my mouth in times like this. But always, upon examination later, I find my truest thoughts and feelings have been articulated.<br />
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In the days after his visit, I considered those words I'd uttered in the heat of the moment and asked myself, did I mean them?<br />
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Just like everything else I've said in the heat of the moment, it felt true even when the hotness has mostly subsided.<br />
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Does that mean that my days of having pseudo vanilla sex with my pet object are over? Not necessarily.<br />
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But as long as my perfect fuchsia dildo is nearby, there's a high probability I'll choose it.<br />
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Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-43628841008437551672016-07-31T19:26:00.000-07:002016-07-31T19:29:21.477-07:00My boy, my pet objectOne night while under the influence, <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2013/01/my-boy-dr-dom-mr-subby.html" target="_blank">Dr Dom / Mr Subby</a> reblogged a rather ridiculous <a href="http://mistresslilyana.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">tumblr</a> picture with a rather ridiculous caption left by some random guy. When he reblogged it, he tacked onto the end, "I want to be @mistresslilyana's pet object."<br />
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When I saw the post the next day, I struggled to put together his statement, his use of the term 'pet object' and weave it together with the picture posted and the caption posted. There was simply no way to draw any real conclusions from his post at all. </div>
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The kink world is full of interesting labels and terms. However, one that isn't used is 'pet object.'</div>
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I teased him about the 'pet object' reference and it became just one the many inside jokes we have. It was also a more serious discussion about what it means to feel like a pet object.<br />
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We really don't engage in any remote play and since we don't see each other often, the D/s aspect of our relationship hasn't escalated as rapidly as it might have if we lived closer. Still, after four years, I felt like it was time to take the next step.<br />
<br />
I've always had a collar I've used with whomever I'm playing with. It's a very plain, black nylon dog collar I purchased at a pet store. Simple and intentionally devoid of anything that might encourage attachment. Whenever I put it on someone the first time, I always let them know it's a PLAY collar. I want to be very clear it doesn't belong to them nor does any significance go beyond play.<br />
<br />
To me, collaring is BDSM marriage. I've never collared anyone before and I'm still not sure I'm ready. However, I felt like Dr Dom / Mr Subby had earned the gift of this own collar so before his last visit, I set about to buy one.<br />
<br />
I checked my go to shopping source, Amazon, for collars and settled on a gorgeous black leather collar, thick and padded with pale pink leather and stitched in the same pale pink. Very classy.<br />
<br />
The day of his arrival, I found the perfect tag and the machine you use to engrave your own tags at the second pet store I visited. On one side, I had MISTRESS LILYANA'S PET OBJECT engraved upon it. On the other, I used my real name.<br />
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I could barely wait to give it to him, but I managed to hold out until I could find a private moment with him the next day while he was serving my friends and me poolside.<br />
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He loved it. He wore it pretty much the rest of the day, even in the car. And he looked so fucking hot in it.<br />
<br />
I took pictures of him wearing it. I took a close up that showed the engraved tag. And then my phone ate it.<br />
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When I told him I was going to blog about it, we agreed it was time to decommission his old nickname, Dr Dom / Mr Subby, and making it official.<br />
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So he's now officially dubbed 'pet object.' And he's got the collar to prove it.<br />
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<div>
Read <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/search/label/Dr.%20Dom%20%2F%20Mr.%20Subby">blogs about Dr. Dom / Mr. Subby</a> (before I changed his alias to 'my pet object')<br />
Read <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/search/label/my%20pet%20object" target="_blank">blogs about my pet object</a></div>
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Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-88325506273075551192016-05-12T21:34:00.000-07:002016-09-01T21:50:29.395-07:00Banana Pussy Motivation<div>
"<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Sure you don't wanna make that "who gets some first" bet? Looks like your odds are better than mine." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2016/03/my-boy-hando-likekissinhim.html" target="_blank">Hando</a> had a gig that took him 2500 miles away for three months shortly after we began dating in March. </span></div>
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"Sure," I said, enjoying the idea of a little healthy competition. "What's that bet? Think of something. It's little challenge to me as you'll do pretty much anything I ask without having to make a bet anyway."</div>
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"Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?"</div>
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"Yep."</div>
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"Who says it has to be a "do something"... It could be a banana split. Or a prize."</div>
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"Ok suggest something." My mind had immediately gone for the gutter, it's true, but I was open to seeing what he would come up with. </div>
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"Now you've got me thinking of all these big sexy things, but it doesn't have to be that huge a deal."</div>
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"Ok banana split then."</div>
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"Ok. That's good I guess."</div>
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"But whoever loses has to be the dish."</div>
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"You TOTALLY read my mind!"</div>
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"No way."</div>
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"Way."</div>
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"Ice cream is COLD. I don't wanna lose," I said. </div>
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"Me neither! Now I have some extra motivation... And I kinda wanna eat a banana out of your pussy."</div>
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"Because getting laid isn't enough motivation."</div>
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"Ha! True.I'm totally guessing you're gonna win. But now I might have to go out tonight after work for the first time in a while." </div>
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"Banana pussy motivation."</div>
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"BPM."</div>
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"Which will make you smile even more when you fuck her. Thoughts of BPM."</div>
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"True. I'll totally be thinking of that. She'll never know."</div>
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We talked and texted daily, often for hours, and usually covered how each of us were progressing. </div>
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"She's not super cute, but she's age appropriate and probably DTF. Maybe the bet is winnable after all..."</div>
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"I'd be happy to lose the bet if if means you're getting laid," I responded. And it was true. </div>
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"Awwww, #<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polyamory#Compersion" target="_blank">compersion</a> #polyforthewin #icecream"</div>
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<div>
And there was the one rather lengthy discussion to define what winning actually meant. You'd think it would be pretty straight forward but considering my bisexual and kinky proclivities, it did require some definition.</div>
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"Does it have to be penis in vagina sex? What if I peg a guy?"</div>
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"You can't cum from pegging a guy so it shouldn't count."</div>
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"Oh yes I can!" </div>
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"Oh. Well if I get a blow job and cum does THAT count?"</div>
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"Of course it doesn't. Ok, can we say it counts if someone's penis goes in a vagina or ass? Or if I have sex with a girl?"</div>
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He agreed but tried to convince me fucking Dr Dom / Mr Subby shouldn't count because he was a sure thing. I won that argument, mostly because he lives far enough away that a visit before Hando returned was not a sure thing. </div>
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<div>
At first I was hellbent on winning. I really didn't want a banana in my pussy or cold ice cream anywhere on my body. I mentally ticked off the possibilities and focused on a few I felt like were easy prey. I even reached out to a couple of them. But my heart wasn't in it and I never broached the subject. </div>
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The thing is, as good as I am at casual sex and keeping my emotions separate when I want to, I rarely fuck someone casually. And when I say rarely, I mean like once in past three years, maybe more. </div>
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I just enjoy sex more when it's with someone with whom I have a connection. It's that simple. Not very slutty of me, I know. </div>
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<div>
I decided to win or lose the bet organically. I was talking to women and men I was potentially interested in dating but in no hurry to seal the deal. And yet it still looked a bit like I was going to win as Hando was experiencing some challenges and it was looking like a visit from Dr Dom / Mr Subby, AKA "a sure thing," was going to happen before Hando's return. </div>
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And then suddenly I received a text.</div>
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"The girl I told you invited me for drinks just texted me she just got fired! Gonna go to her place now and find out what happened. Tell you more later or tomorrow 😘"</div>
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Then less than an hour later: "Just won the bet... Well, I'm still winning it. She's on her way over."</div>
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"LOL good job honey! Have fun!"</div>
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I love that we have the kind of relationship where we can make bets on who gets laid first. That I can talk to Hando about Dr Dom / Mr Subby and potential partners. That I was genuinely happy he won the bet and had sex with someone else. </div>
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The purity and unselfishness of compersion astounds me. It<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> is a beautiful thing and I love experiencing it from both sides. </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">I just didn't truly consider that it would mean ending up with a banana in my pussy. </span></div>
Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-62275531755767015922016-03-13T23:00:00.001-07:002016-09-01T21:52:27.738-07:00You should"Ooh looks like you have a little tiny bruise here," I said, touching an area of slightly discolored skin on <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2016/03/my-boy-hando-likekissinhim.html" target="_blank">Hando</a>'s shoulder about the size of a dime.<br />
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"I told you I get marked easily," he said. He glanced at his shoulder, "That's not very bad though."</div>
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"Well, I wasn't trying to leave a mark."</div>
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"You should have tried harder."</div>
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"Oh really," I said, pleasantly surprised. Or maybe I wasn't all that surprised. Despite his lack of D/s experience, he'd been giving me intermittent subby vibes since we'd met. </div>
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"Yeah," he responded with a sigh. </div>
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"I could do it again." It was a question, really. It was as close to asking permission as I could get in Domme-mode. And he'd definitely activated my Domme-mode with this line of discussion. </div>
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"You should."</div>
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And I did. </div>
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That night, I met him in a dark parking lot behind a breakfast restaurant. As we stood making out between our parked cars, I yanked the neck of his shirt aside looking for the mark I'd made.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiORfGzNZJEtBPJc7Xhknm4pCfT560qeoYEZrqbboGLk45swfk0QIkYIy7KiXnFf4Yy06rutigDtGAd8GZJ34C-6xnx4ZH3QFbkbxuushPv-ZopIems0hbhtaWkrzb39CPFunl_yL-1FRk/s640/blogger-image-1231434018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiORfGzNZJEtBPJc7Xhknm4pCfT560qeoYEZrqbboGLk45swfk0QIkYIy7KiXnFf4Yy06rutigDtGAd8GZJ34C-6xnx4ZH3QFbkbxuushPv-ZopIems0hbhtaWkrzb39CPFunl_yL-1FRk/s640/blogger-image-1231434018.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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"It's already fading," he said.<br />
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"I can fix that."<br />
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"I bet that you can."<br />
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"Oh I know that I can."<br />
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"You should."<br />
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"It will hurt," I said, again asking permission without asking.<br />
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He moaned in the way that already drove me crazy even though we'd only been seeing each other an impossibly short time. "I<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"> know."</span><br />
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I pulled back the neck of his shirt again and kissed the bruised spot gently. "You have to ask for it," I whispered against his skin.<br />
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"Please hurt me," he whispered.<br />
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And then I did.<br />
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"It's still stinging," he said a few minutes later.<br />
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"Good," I said. My inner sadist was happy.<br />
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"I usually hate it when someone leaves a mark on me. I don't know, why but with you I kind of like it."<br />
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"I know why," I said. And then I kissed him hard.</div>
Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-2525403536555030422016-03-13T22:15:00.000-07:002016-09-01T21:51:47.570-07:00My boy, Hando LikekissinhimD/s relationship status: Submissive<br />
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Relationship status: open relationship<br />
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I met Hando Likekissinhim expecting to make a new poly friend in March of 2016 but instead found a powerful and instantaneous connection. He's a musician in his mid forties with gorgeous hands who I truly adore kissing. Add to that a few of his references to the Force being strong with me and his alias was born.<br />
<br />
Hando was curious about BDSM but inexperienced before we met. He'd read some of my blog so he had a little bit of an idea of what he was getting into. Still, I hadn't planned to push his submissive side until I found that he'd triggered my Domme-mode.<br />
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Read <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/search/label/Hando%20Likekissinhim" target="_blank">blogs about Hando Likekissinhim</a>Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-83765220645767211372016-01-08T17:07:00.000-08:002016-01-08T17:07:14.932-08:00My swinging New Year's EveLas Vegas locals understand New Year's Eve is amateur night. Tourists flood the strip, traffic is a nightmare and the weather is always bitter cold. But <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2016/01/my-boy-gentleman-gent.html" target="_blank">the Gentleman</a> wanted to ring in the new year with me in a fun way and I agreed.<br />
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He'd booked us into a high end swingers party at a club with an after party for play. I'd been on their mailing list for years but had never attended an event. I donned fishnets, my sexiest heels and a cocktail dress and stepped back into swinging, an interest I'd previously abandoned. </div>
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I've always enjoyed <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2011/12/sharing.html" target="_blank">sharing</a>. Threesomes are among my favorite sexcapades. But the one full swap I'd attempted years ago with <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2009/05/my-boy-my-fmt.html" target="_blank">my FMT</a> was a failure and I've since grown to appreciate the quality sex that comes from a quality relationship. I'd also grown frustrated with trying to find youngish, attractive couples in the swinger community. </div>
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There's something about being involved with a new person you really enjoy that gives you a new perspective on things and, never being one to avoid a new sexual adventure, I agreed to give swinging another shot.</div>
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During the first couple of hours of the party, we drank, flirted with the bartender and scoped out the other couples. I was pleasantly surprised at how young and attractive the other couples were and that it seemed the new guy and I had similar taste in women. </div>
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As the night progressed and we consumed more alcohol, we began to get to know other couples. After toasting the new year and watching the fireworks at midnight, we returned to the warmth of the club to find one particularly hot couple at the bar. She was wearing a sexy dress that displayed most of her amazing breasts and one of those New Years crowns.</div>
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"Go ask her where she got her hat," Gent suggested. I'd warned him I'm terrible at hitting on women and he was "helping." I protested a little and then went up to her. </div>
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"Happy new year!"</div>
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"Happy new yeeeear to you too!" She said with a thick, Southern accent. </div>
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"Where did you get that?" I asked pointing at her crown. </div>
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"That barteender gave it to me," she said. I just wanted to keep her talking so I could try to guess where she was from. It's a hobby of mine, placing a Southern accent. I'm pretty good at it. </div>
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"Wow her accent is worse than yours," Gent declared. "You're from Texas aren't you?"</div>
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She and I both said, "No," at the same time. </div>
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"Ah'm fruum Georgia," she said. </div>
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"Ooh mah gawd," I said, my own accent emerging, "I'm from Canton! Where are yoooou fruum?"</div>
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She reached out to touch her date in excitement. "Did yooou heear where she's fruum? She's from Canton!"</div>
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Her date looked at me with something between terror and delight in his eyes. "Ooh mah gawd! When did you graduate high school?"</div>
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"'91. You?"</div>
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"Ah'm 9 years older'n you," he said. </div>
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I gave him my name and asked his. He told me his name and it was the name of someone I knew but didn't know well.</div>
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"Ooh yeeaah! I kneew you! You were on the yearbook staff riiight?"</div>
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His date laughed and punched him playfully. "Tell her who you reeeally are!"</div>
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He somewhat reluctantly gave me his real name. "Ah'm sorry but ah just met you at a swingers party in Vegas! I didn't want to tell you who I reeeally ahm!"</div>
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I had never known him but I'd known his sister. And of course we knew all of the same people having grown up in the same tiny town. </div>
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<div>
We probably spent a half hour comparing notes on people we knew and places we'd frequented, my accent becoming thicker by the moment. She was from the next town over and knew my cousins so she had something to contribute. My date, however, was lost in our heavy accents and talk about people and places he didn't know. Gent laughed that they probably knew more about me than he did. </div>
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"Ah bet you've been out on Turtle Creek," the guy said.</div>
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"Of course ah have! I had sex on the creek bank with mah first boyfrieend. Had a huuuuge bruise on my back from the rocks for a week!"</div>
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And so it went for the rest of the evening. Like every boy that grew up in my hometown, he'd fished in the lake my grandparents had lived on. He'd had beers at the bar my eighth grade crush now owned. At the after party we continued to learn how much more we had in common, such as neither his lady nor I wore panties. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Gent and I circulated around the after party, my fishnets in his suit pocket like a naughty handkerchief, making out with each other in pretty much every room in the house. I may or may not have ruined his shoes when he made me squirt in the laundry room but I definitely sucked his cock in the bathroom. </div>
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We didn't swing but had a lovely, sexy evening nonetheless. At about 3:45 AM, we decided to call it a night and went to find our new friends to say our goodbyes. </div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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"Y'all are leavin'?" the guy from my hometown protested. His partner was happily being chatted up by two single guys while he played pool. </div>
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"Yeah, it's late. But it was so great to meet y'all," I said as I moved to hug him. </div>
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Somewhere in the process of untangling myself from his hug, he kissed me. And I kissed him back. </div>
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"Mmmm NOW I believe you're from Canton," he said. </div>
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"What? You didn't believe me before?!?"</div>
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"Nah."</div>
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"It's not like we don't know all of the same people or anything."</div>
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"No, you coulda been lyin' to me but now that I've kissed you, I KNOW you're from Canton. You kiss just like a Canton girl. Dayum. Yummm."</div>
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Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-47038049999187325542016-01-08T16:47:00.000-08:002016-01-08T16:55:08.226-08:00My boy, The Gentleman (Gent)D/s relationship status: N/A<br />
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Relationship status: dating<br />
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After a more than 2.5 year hiatus of intentionally not bringing anyone new into my life, in December of 2015, I decided to start dating again. The Gentleman was my first, first date in a very long time. He's an entrepreneur in his mid forties who has lived all over the world. While he's naturally dominant, loves threesomes and is super open minded, he has not had a ton of exposure to the BDSM or swinging lifestyles and is enjoying exploring with me.<br />
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Read <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/search/label/The%20Gentleman%20%28Gent%29" target="_blank">blogs about The Gentleman (Gent)</a>Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-78611385955641084352015-09-23T16:47:00.000-07:002015-09-23T16:47:33.699-07:00Playing with (and kissing) bon-bon again<a href="http://mistresslilyana.blogspot.com/2011/09/my-boy-bon-bon.html" target="_blank">Bon-bon</a> walked in to find me lounging on his sofa, sipping Riesling, watching porn and texting my friend. Ever the good boy, he came to me and kissed my hand in greeting.<br />
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"Hello, Mistress."</div>
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He looked delicious as he always does in the crisply pressed white shirt and jeans I'd requested he wear to work that day. But perhaps even more delicious was the anxiety that rolled off of him in waves. </div>
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It had been a couple of years since we had played together but he knew that little fact wouldn't buy him any leeway with me thanks to our texts the night before our first play date. </div>
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"Getting very excited about this... Kinda nervous."</div>
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"I promise not to kill you or permanently injure you."</div>
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"I am putting myself totally in your care and I know that you will protect me."</div>
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"No, I'll most certainly hurt you but you'll enjoy letting me."</div>
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And during the two times we've played since, I've certainly hurt him and he's definitely enjoyed letting me. </div>
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During the first session, I tied his wrists with my beautiful scarlet hemp rope that had been neglected for far too long. I secured it to the stairway bannister so that his hands were stretched over his head and I could admire his sculpted body completely before I unloaded my impact toys and beat him with most everything in my bag. </div>
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During our second session, I switched between deceptively sweet strokes to his cock and hard smacks while I watched his face contort from adoration to something akin to surprise and pain and back again. </div>
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His responses were as beautiful as I remembered. What I'd forgotten, but was reminded of again quickly, was how much he seemed to crave my kisses. As he knelt naked before me, he couldn't seem to get enough of kissing me. Even blindfolded and taking whatever pain I dealt out, he turned to me seeking my lips and my tongue frequently. </div>
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And in that way, I did not deny him. </div>
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Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-15736511395779605642015-09-10T22:19:00.001-07:002015-09-10T22:19:14.673-07:00She's baaaaaack!<a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2010/10/my-boy-my-sub.html" target="_blank">Nodder</a> has been in and out of my life for five years as a play partner, lover and much much more.<br />
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In February, things ended. He moved out of my home and, eventually, out of my state. We continued talking until April when I finally severed ties completely. </div>
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It's been difficult in some ways but overall, it's been much easier to get over the love of my life than it should have been. Certainly easier this time than the other times we've broken up. I should probably go into detail on why but I won't. It's a very un-sexy explanation. </div>
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Let's just say I lost myself and leave it at that. </div>
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I also lost my Mistressness - my sexy, sadistic side - the thing that attracted nodder to me in the first place. He didn't take it with him when he left. It had been eroded slowly over time as I fell more in love with him. </div>
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I've always found it difficult to be a good Domme to someone I love. For me, it takes a little distance to dominate someone well. But being IN love with my sub seems to make domming even more challenging for me. </div>
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Cohabitation didn't help matters. It was impossible for me to feel dominant after working all day and coming home to a messy house when he'd spent the day napping and watching TV. </div>
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My main love language is service. It makes me hot to have a guy do things for me. I came home once to a clean kitchen and was instantly wet. Unfortunately, that only happened once. </div>
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Don't get me wrong. I didn't expect him to be some kind of slave and he wasn't a lazy bum. But a little more help would have gone a long way. I just didn't feel dominant when I was picking up his socks off the floor and, admittedly, I found it difficult to articulate that effectively to him. </div>
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While I did, in fact, feel my dominant desires fading during the last six months of our relationship, <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2014/08/it-like-real-relationship.html" target="_blank">our domestic bliss</a> more than made up for it. The pseudo-vanilla sex (I cannot say it was ever totally vanilla) was amazing and we'd built a happy life together. I enjoyed having him as a partner and barely missed my Mistressness. </div>
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And I didn't miss it much after he left, at least not right away. In the months after our breakup, as I began to heal and find myself again, I would occasionally feel a fleeting pang of dominant desire. However, it took a visit from <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2013/01/my-boy-dr-dom-mr-subby.html" target="_blank">Dr Dom / Mr Subby</a> to reawaken my Mistressness. </div>
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After a year apart, his visit was more about reconnection than kink. Still, his yummy subbiness and the fact that we'd completed one item off my kinky bucket list left me feeling adored and powerful. I'd found my RAWR again. </div>
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And now, seven months post breakup, one of my favorite boy toys, <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2011/09/my-boy-bon-bon.html" target="_blank">bon-bon</a>, is back for more. </div>
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As I plot and plan for our playtime next week, as I carefully consider every kinky detail, I hear a little voice saying, </div>
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"She's baaaaaack!"</div>
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And I feel more like me than I have in a really, really long time. </div>
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Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202023862642557894.post-72982409643074424252014-08-07T22:22:00.004-07:002014-08-07T22:56:57.596-07:00It's like a real relationshipSo you may have noticed I snuck in a blog last week without explaining why I have not really written in ten months or tell you what I've been doing during that time.<br />
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And if you're a long time reader of mine, you may have noticed the blog was about <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2010/10/my-boy-my-sub.html" target="_blank">nodder</a>, a former sub of mine that I began seeing almost four years ago.<br />
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Yep, he's back.<br />
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The truth is that he's been back in my life for a while now. And maybe if I'm being totally honest with myself, he'd never truly left. Sure, he'd moved a few states away. And yeah, we've both dated other people. But since he first messaged me on fetlife fours years ago, he's had my heart. It's just taken every bit of those four years for us to get our shit together and form a semblance of a healthy, sustainable relationship.<br />
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Things are really, really good for us and seem to be getting better every day. We've woven each other into our day to day lives becoming the couple I never seriously considered we could be. We know each others friends. We have TV shows we watch together. He has a shelf in my closet and some of his clothes always end up in my laundry. I have "boy soap" in my shower and a bottle of his antacid in my kitchen. He has a key to my house. He's even met my mother.<br />
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It's like a real relationship.<br />
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And while I'm still <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/search/label/polyamory" target="_blank">poly</a>, I'm not seeing other guys. I've chosen to focus on my relationship with nodder and allow my relationships with my play partners to evolve into friendships.<br />
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I do still see and enjoy Elle though. She's the lesbian loophole to our monogamous relationship and one that neither nodder nor I feel that I should give up.<br />
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The D/s is still there with nodder and it's as hot <a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2011/11/top-lilyana-and-nodder-posts-of-2011.html" target="_blank">as it ever was</a>. We've even ventured into new areas of interest as well as pushed existing boundaries. But it's also different, less formal.<br />
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He's every bit as good at taking care of me as he's ever been. He still enjoys serving me and I definitely still enjoy being served. But he does it without calling me Mistress. We've somehow evolved away from the honorifics and what little protocol I previously required. <br />
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I can't say I don't sometimes miss the more formalized D/s we once had. And I know if I wanted it back, he'd be game for it. Yet somehow, this more casual D/s relationship seems to better fit the more serious dating relationship we have now.<br />
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I also feel like I need that layer of formality less. Over the years I've grown more comfortable with who I am and I guess who I am is a little less Mistressy than I'd previously thought.<br />
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Don't get me wrong. I still LOVE control. I still love tease and denial, rope and humiliation. I still love seeing him on his knees for me and I'm still sadistic as fuck. It's just woven into our relationship so tightly that we don't need the pomp and circumstance surrounding D/s protocol anymore.<br />
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Up until recently, I've been very careful not to publicize our relationship in both our kinky and our vanilla social media circles. I've been calling him "the boy" on <a href="https://twitter.com/MistressLilyana" target="_blank">twitter</a> and, until a couple of weeks ago, I hadn't been tagging him in my vanilla Facebook pictures.</div>
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It has been nice to spend these months nurturing our renewed relationship (not to mention playing) without a few thousand extra sets of eyeballs "watching." However, I've missed writing this blog very much and as I wrote "<a href="http://www.mistresslilyana.com/2014/06/shaved-head.html" target="_blank">Shaved head</a>," I knew it was time to begin sharing again through this blog.<br />
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I've realized that while our relationship is still rather fragile, I'm ready to share my happiness (and hotness) with the world again.</div>
Mistress Lilyanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09683035761368268195noreply@blogger.com2