Choking on the lesson.

   The throat.

Such a beautiful area; so soft, sensitive, delicate.

This image was once my greatest fear.  Nothing, really nothing, touched my neck.

The reason was simple: Fear.

Once there was a man in my life (I use the term “man” loosely here), whose favorite thing to do while having sex with me was to choke me. I understand that some people get off on asphyxiation, and if that is your kink then more power to you! However, this was not the case with me. He would grab my throat and squeeze, and unfortunately I was not strong enough to get him to stop. There would always be a struggle, and I would wake later in my bed with giant bruises on my neck and thanking whatever Gods would listen that I was not dead.

There are a whole list of questions that this situation brings up for other people, and I am not going to get into them. I understand how it looks, how it sounds, the implications on my part. Believe me, I have taken responsibility for my actions, or lack thereof. I do not dwell on the past. That is not what this entry is about.

This is about growth.

The first time that Maestro touched my throat my reaction made it very clear to him that I was NOT okay with it. It was an overreaction really, as he was stroking it and not actually grabbing. But the fear was real, I grabbed his hand and pulled it away forcefully. I was shaking, frozen, and could feel the tears building. He laid beside me, very still, and had me go through the encounter with him and explain what happened. Looking back now, I can see that my reaction was probably confusing to him. Going from hot to cold so quickly for, seemingly, no reason at all. Luckily, as I have said before, I have a very loving and patient Maestro.

Thus began my throat training. It wasn’t something that he said “We are going to fix this behavior”. No, it began with a touch.

Maestro and I were in bed knotted up with each other, he was stroking my face, my jaw, his fingers slowly caressing me. As he began to graze the outline of my shoulder where it meets my neck,  I begin to tighten up.

“Look at me” he whispered. He had leaned up on his left elbow while his right hand was still gently stroking me. I opened my eyes and though he was smiling at me, I could see his eyes were serious. “I will only ever touch your neck with the back of my hand, ” he says, showing me his outstretched fingers, “I can’t grip that way, you have nothing to fear.”

At first he would only touch the side of my neck. He always touched me gently, always holding his hand still until he felt me relax.  Slowly, he began touching closer to the center of my throat.  This was more difficult for me, but he always paused and waited if he felt me tensing up.

Six months passed and I was beginning to enjoy the soft stroking of my neck and throat.

At eight months he began using his fingertips.  I was tense, but the time he had taken with me had allowed me to trust that he was not going to hurt me. There were no setbacks, no having to start over. I was discovering, again, how to relax to his touch and trust.

After a year, I had reached a point where I would guide his hand to my throat while we were having sex.  The first time I did that Maestro was really surprised, and while he didn’t say anything to me during, he made a point of telling me when we were cuddling afterwards.

Now, I am okay with Maestro touching my neck, I’m even okay when he gives it a little squeeze.

It took some time to get through the baggage that I was carrying, and the lesson was really as much about that as it was about trusting my Maestro. It was also a lesson in not judging all by the actions of one.

Nipple training – Maestro’s Way – Part II

Day 4:

Reprieve!

Maestro has a commitment away from home tonight, and as it will be late when he gets back, I am given a night without the pins!

I should be excited! I should be happy! What is this feeling? Disappointment? Yes, a deep sense of disappointment. This isn’t what I should be feeling at all.

I do not like having an interruption in my training. When trying to build a callous you have to practice every day, right?  But Maestro isn’t trying to build a callous, he is training them to be more sensitive, and he is training me to want to pain.

It’s working.

Day 5:

As I was leaving for work this morning Maestro advised me that I will be getting the pins tonight and to be ready. I spent another restless day at work, trying to concentrate on what I was supposed to be doing, and rushed out the door at 4 o’clock.

I asked Maestro if I could remove my bra with the under-wire and put on my sport bra instead because it would be more comfortable for me while I was making dinner and waiting for him to get home. Mercifully, he said I could. I think later I would regret this decision. Or not. I am conflicted.

The sport bra is more comfortable because it stretches, it..breathes, there are no under-wires. It is holds everything in place without pinching or moving. See where I am going with this?

What I also realized, as Maestro was placing the pins, is that it is also tighter. It is designed that way, to keep breasts from moving too much while playing sports.  What that means is that the pins are now held securely in place.  Tight. Secure. Biting. Pinching.

Holy crap! What have I gotten myself into? And yet…and yet, I am turned on. Maestro pushes up against me, or squeezes my breasts and I squeal from the pain and get more turned on.

And Maestro is pleased. Maestro is happy. Maestro has decided that I will wear the sport bra for every night of my training.

Day 6:

It has been a long day, and I haven’t felt well. My head has been hurting, badly. When I get home from work I put on the sports bra as instructed, and lie down. My intention was to only lie down for a moment, to close my eyes against the ache, what happened was that I fell asleep. Maestro returned home and came upstairs looking for me. He covered me, and told me to stay in bed. He said if I was feeling badly enough to sleep then I could stay in bed. There would be no pins tonight.

That is not to say that there would be no nipple play. Later that evening, Maestro laid down beside me and gently started caressing my nipples As I began to respond with soft moans he increased the amount of pressure and pain he applied. Soon my moans turned to cries as Maestro pinched, bit, and sucked at my nipples, working me into a frenzy and finally – thankfully- counting me down to an orgasm.

My head still hurt, and my nipples were too sensitive to touch, but Maestro was satisfied as he tucked me back into bed and that made me very happy.

Day 7:

One week of training. To be fair it has only been 5 days, as I had two days of reprieve. I woke to Maestro smiling at me, and feeling more than a little guilty about having not worn the pins again. I ask Maestro if I could wear the pins to work, to make up for all the time I missed. He chuckles at me and says “Do you understand what you are asking for? If you get to work and it begins to hurt you must leave them in. They won’t be removed by anyone but me.” He sat back and looked at me for a long moment then continued “No, darkling. I don’t think you are ready for that, but you will wear them tonight. You are such a good girl.”

Work was very busy, so I was thankful for Maestro’s wisdom in denying me the pins.

When we returned home after work Maestro wasted no time in having me put on the sports bra and placing the pins in. The we went out for dinner. This was my first time wearing them in public. I was embarrassed and felt like everyone knew, especially when I moved and let out a little “eep” from the pins pinching or poking into me.

Maestro watched me with interest, humor and happiness. I handled it like a champ.

Later, at home, Maestro and I are dancing in the living room. He presses me to him, digging the pins deeper into each breast. As I cry out, he smiles. He dances me to the wall where he turns and pins me, “Don’t move” he growls into my ear. My breasts are screaming to pull from the wall, the pins are deep into my areola, the hungry little points biting the delicate flesh.

Maestro begins working on my ass, his hand hard as each strike lands. I am moaning both from the pleasure and the pain. I love being spanked by Maestro, for me there is almost nothing better than feeling my ass and legs warm under his blows. But the added pain from the pins has me wet, and I can feel my juices slowly dripping down my leg as he continues to land blows on my ass and thighs.  His hand reaches to my pussy and he smiles as he feels the silky wetness of my sex.

Maestro pulls me from the wall and, kissing me deeply, moves me to the bed where he enters me. He pulls my hair and pinches my nipples – hard! I can hardly control myself by the time he allows me to cum, and I’m even more blissful as he joins me in orgasm.

Spent, we fall into each others arms and sleep, deep and sound.

 Day 8: A few thoughts before I post:

Lessons. That is what this blog is about. What have I learned this week?

I have been forced to explore my almost desperate need for pain. Maestro has said to me that while he could make someone take the pain, he could not make someone enjoy it. I enjoy it. I am okay with this. I am thrilled when Maestro pulls my hair, I love when he reaches down and finds me wet after he has taken the strap to me. I enjoy pain. The nipple pain is a new experience. I am finding that since the beginning of the training they are more sensitive; they harden beautifully, and quickly, with just the slightest touch. I am still finding my limits of pain with the nipples, trying to decipher where that point is that takes it from enjoyable to “NO NO NO!” This weekend Maestro has promised that I will wear the pins every day, everywhere. We are working up to meeting my request to wear the pins to work. I suppose I should insert the “be careful what you ask for” cliché here, but I am really okay with this.

I think the biggest lesson this week is an old one that I am re-learning. Be okay with who you are. Embrace it, feel it, get to know it inside and out, and love it.  My nipples are sore, tender, and I am beginning to love this.

I will continue to wear the pins as long as Maestro wishes. I look forward to sharing the experiences, though probably less formally than this blog.

Nipple Training – Maestro’s Way – Part I

Previously I had written about the overwhelming pain associated with having Maestro hurt my nipples. At that time he promised that he was going to build something which would heighten my sensitivity, and have me begging for the pain. Today the first round of this device has been created. I have decided to share my daily thoughts on this blog.  As I go through this process my hope, my goal, is to stretch beyond what I thought were my limits and grow from the experience.

Day 1:

Maestro constructed a push-pin cushion for my nipples. It is NOT comfortable, and I am squirming as he gently positions them into each cup of my bra. He is smiling at me as I am grimacing from the pain of the little points digging into my nipples, he is enjoying this.

But the squirming isn’t enough, he wants me to feel it! No, let me rephrase this, he is getting turned on by my pain, and wants to push me. So he tells me to lie down with my head at the foot of the bed…on my stomach. I do as I am told, and cry out a little as the pins push further into my nipples.

He ties me down, just my hands, and lies on top of me- pushing the pins deeper into my breasts. I can feel him growing hard against me as I cry out, and he has a happy chuckle as he rises from me and gets the strap. Tonight there will be much pain!

In an effort to maintain honesty and integrity in my blog, I have to say that I don’t remember much after the first 10 to 15 strikes. Maestro says he was watching as I drifted into “subspace”, and allowed me to linger there a while.

I know that the next thing I remember was lying in his arms, and he was gently stroking my hair and back. I remember thinking that this is my favorite place to be. He takes such good care of me.

When I had fully returned Maestro instructed me to remove the pins for the night. We will start again tomorrow.

DAY 2:

Maestro has reconstructed the cushion which the pins sit in so there is less chance they will slide around. As he is putting the new ones in my bra I ask how long I will have to wear them, he answers  “A couple of hours, or until I tell you to take them out.”

My thoughts today: I am hurting. The new construction has the pins sitting in a complete circle around my nipple. Every time I move my arm or bend at all, the little pins bite or scratch deeper into the delicate skin. What I cannot reconcile is how turned on I am by this. Even though I have owned my masochism, this is a new sensation for me. Normally the nipples are off-limits (so to speak) and kill the mood as soon as they are touched. Today I have had the little points scratching and digging and biting my nipples for hours and my panties are soaked! I am thoroughly turned on by this! I am exuding sex!

I am trying to wrap my head around this and the only explanation I have at this time is that, once again, Maestro knows what he is doing.  I want to say that I am not looking forward to wearing this contraption every day, (or until Maestro decides the training is done,) I want to say that because that is what my brain is telling me I should feel. However, obviously, a part of me is VERY MUCH looking forward to it! I am not sure how I feel about that.

Day 3:

Maestro told me that he will be inserting the pin cushions back into my bra when we return home from work today. I have now spent the entire day completely distracted by this thought. I am conflicted, you understand. There is a part of me desiring the pain of the pins so badly that I can hardly contain myself, and there is the part of me that accepts that Maestro has given me instruction and I will do what I am told, but in the middle there is this voice that is horrified at this behavior! “How can you let someone do this to you?” it screams at me “And look at you! How can you be turned on by this?!” Because I am. Hopelessly turned on, embracing my submissiveness, anticipating the pins.

Maestro came home, walked to me with the cushions in his hand and said “It’s time.” I lifted my blouse, exposing my bra, and winced as he placed the pins to my breast and squeezed me close to him. I cried out from the pain as the tips bit into the delicate flesh around my now hardened nipples. “Good girl.” he whispered to me ” You are my good girl.”

I have been instructed that I will wear them for several hours tonight, perhaps until I go to bed. When I commented that it seemed unfair to not be able to take off my bra at the end of the day, he responded by saying “I am willing to accommodate you. If you are ready to wear the pins to work all day, then you can take your bra off in the evening.”  Well…I’m not. So for now I will have to live with not taking off my bra, and wearing the wonderfully horrible pins in the evening.

At odds with my “wants”

Do I have the “right” to ask Maestro for what I want? Perhaps that is not the correct question. I think what I am asking is if it would be inappropriate to ask Maestro for something I want.

This isn’t a need we’re talking about, Maestro always makes sure that my needs are met. I have food, clothing, safety, and all the things that meet my basic needs.  I have no need that is not satisfied, and most of my wants (if they are not unreasonable) are given to me just as freely.

There’s just this one thing. This one little thing, that most people wouldn’t think about (unless they are in this type of relationship) or notice, but which I desire so much that I feel like Gollum with his precious ring! Okay, maybe that is overstating it a bit. I feel strongly about it, though.

I want to be collared.

I don’t need it. I don’t need proof of my place or position in my relationship with Maestro. I don’t feel  insecure, unloved, or unwanted.

I simply want.

I imagine the feeling of having him place and lock it to me. I imagine how it would feel to be able to reach up every day and touch it. I can imagine how much pride I would feel in having it, in the meaning of it, in the love of it.

Am I being childish?

Maestro and I are always clear about our relationship, neither of us are in a hurry to remarry, both of us are happy where we are. I don’t think that being collared would change  our level of commitment to each other, or maybe it would deepen it. That’s the catch, I don’t really know.

So I am asking myself “Why the sudden desire?”  I am trying to figure that out.

I am his, we both know this.

Is it silly to desire this? Is it silly that I look at pictures of “day collars” online and save them to my computer, on the chance that he might ask one day if I have a preference?

I am at odds with myself today.

 

 

Hair pulling

This. THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS!!!!

When Maestro pulls my hair I instantly become more aware. I am more aware of him, of his hands, his voice, his proximity to me. I become wet; dripping, soaking “Please let me suck your cock” wet!

More than that though, it is a little reminder of my submissiveness; of how natural it is, how it is ME – through and through. A reminder that I belong to him. What joy!

I am so lucky to have Maestro!

This is going to hurt

Websters dictionary defines Masochism as “a sexual perversion characterized by pleasure in being subjected to pain or humiliation especially by a love object”.  I would like to take that a step farther by saying that it is also characterized by an emotional release when subjected to pain; and that is where today’s lesson begins.

It is not unusual for Maestro and I to have conversations in the evening after everything has settled down, and lately they have been about a particular event that took place two weeks ago which shook me to the core. The conversation usually begins with Maestro asking how I am feeling about it, and ends when I respond with “Fine, or Whatever – fuck it”.

When dealing with particularly painful things I tend to turn off the emotions and deal with “just the facts ma’am”,  which in many situations is a good thing, but in this one has caused me to fluctuate between anger and indifference, and not deal with the real hurt or sadness that I knew I felt. I could say that I was hurt, or sad, but I wasn’t actually dealing with it. Luckily, I have a very understanding Maestro.

What I said to him during our conversation was something like “I can really understand why cutters cut. The release of internal pain through an external stimulus is something I totally get.” Maestro responded with “You need to cry.” which I chuckled at, but didn’t take too seriously until he continued with “I am going to make you cry.” Jokingly, or maybe not, I said “If you are going to make me cry, then I need you to tie me up because I will try to get away.”  Maestro chuckled at me, patted my head, and told me to go take a bath as he left the room.

While I was bathing, he was setting up my bonds.  Maestro took my playful banter seriously; he was going to make me cry.  I desperately needed to cry, I needed to release the pent-up hurt and sadness and he knew it.  After my bath he laid me on the bed, face down, and spoke very softly to me as he tied first my hands and then my feet. He made sure that I understood his position, why he was doing it, and what he was going to do. This is not punishment. This is my needs being met, even though I am unsure I want him to do this.

Maestro tells me that he is going to start with his hands, move to the stinger (where he is sure I am going to beg him to stop) and finish with the strap. He leaned over me and whispered “I love you” in my ear, then “Let’s begin.” I am already shaking.

The first strikes with his hand hurt, but I did not start crying. I was shaking, I could feel the heat rising, and my thighs and ass were tender, but I was not crying.

Out came the stinger, the tool that I resist the most! The “Stinger” is about 12 inches long, and two inches wide. It is made of solid wood, and has no give AT ALL! When it makes contact, it doesn’t do it with a thud, it does it with a smack. A small smack. It bites. It hurts! Had I not been thoroughly secured I would have run away, or attempted to, at that point! He brought it down on my thighs and ass with the precision of a master craftsman, each stroke timed perfectly, each one striking precisely where he knew it would have the greatest effect. Cries began escaping from me, I began asking – no – begging him to stop. I was sure that he was breaking skin! I was crying now! As he continued with the stinger the crying turned to sobbing.

When he brought out the strap and began to criss-cross  my back, ass and thighs with it, something in me broke. The sounds coming from me were primal, the grief palpable, and it began to all come out. I was releasing…finally. The external pain had finally reached the summit, the place where the internal control could no longer be maintained, and the spring was released. I sobbed, I cried in anguish, I struggled against my bindings, and Maestro stopped.

He pulled me into his arms and rocked me as my anguish took over,  and he continued to hold me until I was breathing softly and was calm again. He whispered to me that he loved me, that I should let it all out, that I was safe.

When I look back on this and ask myself what the lesson was, and I find that there were more than one.  First; though I had accepted for some time that I am a masochist, none of my previous lovers had the self control to help me explore it in ways that were – ultimately – not harmful to me physically and emotionally. I believe that this experience has brought me closer to Maestro, and allowed me to trust him on a deeper level. He knew what I needed. He understood the truth behind my humor, and acted on it. However, he only did as much as was needed to achieve the goal. He was not abusing me, he does not abuse me, he saw a need, met it, and stopped. More than that though, the after-care he gave me was so incredible that even when looking at the bruises and the welts that were left, I can’t help but be grateful.

Second; It is necessary when dealing with my feelings to allow myself to open up and feel what needs to be felt. Part of the lesson is that it is okay to tell Maestro that I need to be tied up, that I am going to run, that I am afraid of dealing with whatever I am dealing with, and I need help! But the other part (and perhaps a more important part) is that the  feelings must be dealt with! It is more healthy to express it, and get it out than it is to cut it off, or act like everything is fine.

Third; Even when I learn to deal with hurtful things, even if I am the most emotionally healthy person on the planet, Maestro will hurt me. Because sometimes I need to be hurt, I am  a masochist after all, and I am lucky enough to have a Maestro that is a wonderful Sadist. Sometimes life works out nicely in that way.