The new rule.

Last weekend, Rafe and I had three nights together – a rare treat. He had already decided that I would be spending most of the weekend naked and in service. When I arrived, he quickly instituted a new rule: Whenever I was naked, I must ask permission to put clothes on. Violation of this rule meant 10 cane strokes. (I’d already received 20 after my arrival, for failing to send appropriate pictures 2 mornings of the week.)

I was quite successful through the weekend. There was but one infraction – a technicality, really. I’d gone to change clothes. I was never really naked, only partially. But my master is not one for arguing the letter of the law, when it comes to our arrangement. It’s all about the spirit.

At one point, he said playfully, “I think we should make this a permanent rule.”

This weekend, I failed twice, before he reminded me. And then a third time. At least he had decided that the cane was perhaps too stringent a punishment for this new rule. He has not told me what the punishment will be regularly. But this weekend he administered a good old-fashioned spanking with the palm of his hand.

– The Elegant Submissive

Styles of Submission.

Ella and I were talking last night about our D/s dynamic. We have an idiosyncratic arrangement. It’s a 24/7 lifestyle in that I am always dominant in our sex life, and I decide when we are playing. I can order her to do what I choose, when I choose, and she does it. As we say, she does what she’s told; I get what I want. That’s our agreement.

But in practice, we don’t do high protocol service slavery and I don’t take control of many things that neither of us are particularly interested in incorporating into our dynamic. Finances. Exercise. Work. Diet. These are things Ella is perfectly good at managing for herself, and I have no desire to manage for her. Frankly, she’s better at some of those than I am.

So we’ve carved out a style of dominance and submission that works for us. In discussing it last night, I realized that I have never punished her for disobedience. Ella has followed, or attempted to follow, every order I’ve ever given her. She doesn’t disobey in order to manipulate me. She doesn’t act the brat in order to try to top from the bottom, picking and choosing when she receives discipline. She’s truly into service and obedience.

It’s utterly refreshing. While I sometimes have to correct her service, in order to mold it to perfection, so that she serves me precisely as we both want her to, I never have to assert my dominance in order to “put her in her place”. She’s not defiant or oppositional. When she wants more severe discipline, instead of acting out in hopes that I correct her with a severe punishment, she simply asks for it.

Last week, she begged me: “I want you to gag me, and torture me, and use me for your pleasure.” And I did. Though now that I think about it, I think I forgot the gag. But I bound her arms behind her back, tied a very tight crotch rope, and then spent fifteen minutes spanking her with the crop, my belt, and a hairbrush. Then, I made her come with the hitachi. Then I repeated the process. Her ass remained sore for days. She wept and wriggled and cried as I punished her ass mercilessly.

And when I was satisfied, she served me with her mouth and her cunt, and made her master come in the manner he’s accustomed to.

-The Refined Dominant

Getting What She Asked For.

This weekend, I had an intense, almost desperate need to be of service to my Master. Unfortunately I was far away from Rafe this weekend, just as I had been all last week and have continued to be this week. Of course, by no means, was I beyond the reach of my Dom.

As I described in my previous post, I asked Rafe how I could serve him. At the end of the exchange, he warned:

Careful what you ask for, slave! You might get it.

  • Saturday – Masturbate for two minutes without coming, with clothespins on my nipples and a finger up my ass. Twice, separated by an hour. And completion of the blog post before 10 pm.
  • Sunday – Leave a comment on another bdsm blog. Before leaving my apartment, masturbate again, same conditions as Saturday. Then in the afternoon, more masturbation – this time, the clothespins on my labia (I thought I might come at the first clamp), with permission to come after two minutes was up (thank you, Master!).
  • Monday – No panties today. At work, masturbate without coming for 90 seconds (this one came with a deadline). While at dinner with acquaintances, go to the restroom and insert a finger up my ass – no masturbating. At home, leave another comment on a blog.
  • Tuesday – Panties must be red (even this little command sent me tingling). He had another plan, but it wasn’t workable without access to a private bathroom (still don’t know what he had in mind for me).
  • Wednesday – Comment on two blogs while at work. Later in the evening, another order arrived: Put an ice cube in my pussy and let it melt there. This one almost got me into trouble, because I had no ice. I immediately filled a tray and put it in the freezer. Fortunately, I had enough time for the cubes to freeze at least half way. When I pushed one in, it suddenly become almost impossible not to come. I begged my Master to let me masturbate to climax. After a couple of minutes, he permitted it, telling me later, It is difficult to deny you when you beg. The orgasm was long and intense. It took me a minute to catch my breath.
  • Thursday – I was working from home. Late morning, a command: Strip naked and masturbate without coming for two minutes. After I was done, a follow up: Repeat every 90 minutes until 4 pm. A total of 4 times in 4.5 hours. My clit is a little tender now. And Rafe has decided “we” should do it one more time before bed.

So I’m getting what I asked for. Service to my Master. And the results?

I’ve been wet all week. I’m aching to be filled and fucked and tormented by my Master. I want desperately to be used by him, roughly and mercilessly. I want him to take all that he can, all that is his (which is all of me). I’m longing to delve more deeply into our bdsm experience than we have yet.

I see my darling Rafe tomorrow. Of course, as fate would have it, he can’t take me straight home to fuck me. We have plans. We will be side by side for hours before he takes me home to play.

I have already been given a rule for this weekend. Every time we enter the house, I am to ask if my Master would like me to suck his cock. Failure earns 10 strokes of the cane. I’ve already earned 8 – 5 for a delay in sending him pictures of myself in my running gear, 3 for improper capitalization of my last post (since fixed).

I can’t wait to see what else Rafe has in store.

– The Elegant Submissive

My comments this week

Careful What You Ask For.

Time has slipped by. Rafe and I have, in turn, been traveling, sick, and stressed. During this time, understandably, our play has been a bit more subdued.

This weekend, we are apart, and I felt a longing for my master’s hand, his strictures, his orders.

How may this slave serve you from afar, sir? I texted him.

He asked what I proposed.

I replied, What would please my master? Masturbation? Some anal play? Nipple torture? What does my master fancy his slave doing to herself this week? What images would bring him pleasure and satisfaction?

He sent me the first of his plans – and my orders – for the week:

I have been thinking that I would like you to come twice this week. But I think we should build up to it.

Today I want you to masturbate for 2 minutes, without coming, twice. Separated by at least an hour.

You will not come today. We’ll repeat it tomorrow. If I’m satisfied, maybe tomorrow. If not, perhaps Monday.

Today, when you masturbate, do so with a finger up your ass and clothespins on your nipples. Both times. Send pictures.

Already I was wet with the anticipation of fulfilling my master’s orders. I did as I was told. The two minutes was an eternity. I felt on the verge of climax. But I knew to fight the desire to succumb, lest I be dealt my punishment for coming without permission.

I returned to my day as usual. A short nap. Some dinner. A bit of cleaning.

Then time for another session.

I had a little wine with my dinner, hoping that it might make the edge a bit more bearable. Again, I was already warming at the very thought of what I was about to do for my master.

With the placement of each clothespin on my nipples, I felt blood rush to my vulva and clitoris. I felt myself grow wetter. I sent my master the first picture.

I then applied lubricant to my anus. I coated a finger of my one hand, reached behind, and inserted into my rectum. I exhaled shakily, my desire intensifying.

I started the stopwatch on my phone and, kneeling on my bed, slipped my free hand between my legs. Engorged, slick, the first touch of my pussy felt like it might almost be enough to push me over the edge. The seconds ticked by. Slowly.

Thirty… I was dripping wet. Forty-five… Not even half way there. Sixty… Fingers dipping inside to move the stimulation away from my clit. Seventy-five… Would I be able to hold back? Ninety… So close. Fingers sliding effortlessly between my lips. I longed to come. I was desperate to come. But I also longed to meet my master’s demands.

Finally, the clock hit two minutes. I had made it.

As I removed my finger from ass, I feared that again that I might come. But I did not. I removed the clothespins. I collapsed onto the bed. Spent but electrified. Almost afraid that any move might be too much. A gentle rub of my previously pinned nipples sent another jolt to my cunt.

An hour later, I’m still dripping.

My master told me to expect assignments every day this week. I do not know what to expect. Perhaps more masturbation sessions with me struggling not to climax. Or perhaps orders to orgasm, maybe even more than once a day. I am certain that they will be challenging.

After outlining today’s assignments and promising more, my master closed:

Careful what you ask for, slave! You might get it.

Perhaps so. And yet I do so long to serve my master this way.

– The Elegant Submissive

Her Request Granted.

My Ella was indeed allowed to masturbate to orgasm. She was required to do so with a finger up her ass, and only after begging and offering up willing acceptance of various torments in order to receive permission. Already, for failure to send me a photograph on Saturday, she has earned ten cane strokes. Now she has purchased more severe session indeed.

This is not a punishment, of course. She did not climax without permission. But the result is the same. She begged me to use the sauce, in exchange for the right to masturbate. And I will. She is going to be bound, caned, and then I will apply hot sauce to her vulva. I warned her ahead of time, I only have very hot sauces at the moment. The habañero is the milder sauce.

And then, while her sweet little pussy burns, reminding her of the price of her satisfaction, she will suck me off, and swallow my ejaculate. To remind her that she is the vessel of my pleasure, and required to serve and suffer at my pleasure. Whether that is deprivation, or torment. I intend to make her tortures severe enough that she thinks carefully before requesting a rogue orgasm again.

Her pleasure, like her body, belongs to me. I own it. I own her. And I intend to make her swoon with agony and submission.

-The Refined Dominant

On Domination.

At the surface, being a dominant appears to be utterly luxurious. Endless sexual authority. Limitless pleasure. In my relationship with Ella, she is required to serve to my every pleasure, at any time of my choosing. She is required to do this regardless of her own pleasure or convenience. My pleasure is paramount. Hers inconsequential. Attending to my satisfaction is her first rule. She is required to observe it at all times without considering her own. My desires are served, when I want, where I want, how I want.

But a dominant who exercises this authority to maximize his own pleasure and be inconsiderate of his slave’s needs will likely not long remain dominant over that slave. We must merely recognize that attending to a slave’s needs looks different from attending to each other’s needs in a relationship that does not feature power exchange. It does not require less consideration of the slave’s feelings and desires. It’s just that that consideration is orthogonal to the kind of consideration required between normal couples.

When I deprive my Ella of pleasure (We have established now that she never has orgasms unless I specifically direct it. Sometimes, weeks go by between her climaxes.) I do so because the deprivation is meaningful to both of us. It accentuates my authority and her submission. When I do finally take her over the edge, her shuddering ecstasy is delightful.

Being a good dominant requires me to delay my own satisfaction considerably. If all our interactions were about Ella quickly making me come, and then it was over, she would rapidly tire of the arrangement, I imagine. By delaying my own satisfaction, I elongate her service. I develop our intimacy. Domination requires creativity: what tasks must she accomplish to satisfy me? What are the punishments if she fails? What can she endure, and how can I enhance her submission, her suffering, her devotion?

My goal as Ella’s master is bring her the kind of sexual satisfaction she craves. The relational intimacy she needs. Because we are who we are, this entails punishment, deprivation, service. Last week, Ella used the last of the toilet paper and did not replace the roll. I brought her into the bathroom, showed it to her, and then spanked her ass several times with my open hand. I’m sure that will be enough. She’s very diligent about lessons. But if I need to escalate, I will.

But domination is, let me be clear, thoroughly indulgent. I receive my pleasure. When and how I desire. And I know my Ella wouldn’t have it any other way. And when her delicate little tongue flickers over my perineum I am reminded of just how good it is to be in charge.

A Few Little Ideas.

Tragically, the play party we intended to go to when last we posted here was cancelled. I shall have to wait until another to punish my Ella in public. Rest assured, she received every stroke of the cane she had earned. Just, privately. So, in order to plan for the next play party and make a public spectacle of her corrections, I need to arrange for her to earn a few new punishments. This has me thinking. Ideas for her accrual:

1) Hang a bell from her collar. Bind her hands behind her. Order her to make the bed. Every time the bell rings, she earns a stroke.

2) Forbid her from touching the floor with the soles of her feet. Order her to prepare dinner barefoot. Any time the bottom of her foot touches the kitchen tile, two strokes.

3) Hogtie her – tightly but imperfectly – in rope. Order her to escape. A stroke for each minute it takes her.

4) Require her to squat, clenching a lubricated insertable within her for five minutes. Each time it slips,  she earns two strokes.

Games such as these are excellent means of minor humiliations. And humiliations invariably leave my darling Ella dripping wet and begging for release. And this of course, is one method I can use to nearly guarantee she earns a punishment:

5) Bind her effectively. Lock  her knees apart with a spreader bar. And press the Hitachi Magic Wand against her defenseless vulva. Forbid her to climax. Ten strokes if she does.

I do like this last one a great deal. First, it is a near certain means of her earning punishment. She cannot resist the Hitachi often. Second, once she has come, application of the Hitachi to her clitoris is pure torture. She begs. She cries. She whimpers. And she suffers. Because I am relentless. And then I get to punish her disobedience.

The next play party is coming soon. And I’m continuing to dream up ways I can arrange for her to accrue punishments. Always, of course, with some way for her to avoid the punishment. Even if it is extraordinarily unlikely. After all. I am her master. Which means that I get what I want.

– The Refined Dominant