Shopping while poly

Yesterday we went grocery shopping as a group for the first time. It only make sense as we're doing the "intentional family" thing and my boyfriend is eating here more and more often.

But it was slightly surreal. I'm used to hubby adding things to the cart without my notice but to have two of them doing it? Kinda like shopping with kids.

I'm not sure we were ever all together at once. Hubby would find something interesting and lag behind to look at it, Boyfriend would get tired of watching me compare prices and wander off gor a bit.

I'd hug or kiss whoever happened to be nearest when the mood struck. At times I'd ask one or the other which flavor they wanted.

If someone were to pay close attention, I'd imagine they be slightly confused.

Sleep and control

Watching you sleep.

You've turned your back on me. I can just see the outline of your body in the almost dark. I want to trail my fingers along that line. Along the side of your head, down over your neck, especially your neck, over your shoulder and down the length of your arm lying on top of the covers.

You need your sleep and I've had my fun, had my hands on and in you and now it's your time to rest.

So I'll resist touching. I won't trace over the marks on your back, I won't wrap my hands around your throat, won't shove my fingers almost too far into your mouth. I'll resist your poor swollen and tender nipples and I'll refuse to think about the parts of you under the sheets.

I have to close my eyes now. Self control is hard.

After

I've said it before. I love to hurt you. I love watching you struggle to stay still for me. I love hearing your panting, your moans, your whispers. I love that you reach for me in your pain and wonder if you're even aware that you do that. I love watching the marks appear, using your flesh as my canvas. 

But my absolute favorite part is the after. Finally unfettered you melt into me trying to get as close as possible. Your eyes red and wet and so very expressive. Your lips soft and needy. You seem so raw, so small. I let you dissolve into me. Pet and cuddle. Occasionally pinch a welt or a bite mark just to feel a quiet moan against my neck. 

It makes me greedy for more. 

Introductions

I want to talk about my relationships here so I suppose I need to make some introductions.

Hello, I'm Kat. This is one of the places I express myself. I am polyamorous, pagan (leaning toward atheism), and sex positive. I've been told I'm a sensual dominant and that's true, I do love to cuddle and pet. But I'd classify myself as a sadist and a reaction junkie. I adore the noises men make when they're in pain!

I'm in an, almost, 16 year relationship with a man. We'll call him Wolf here. He is also dominant, for a while I tried to be his submissive but that is not who am. I'll tell you that story another time. We're happily vanillish with each other.

Recently I began a relationship with a man who I've known online for about a year. We'll call him Bear and he's turning out to be a lovely submissive and is making me very happy.

Kissing

To me kissing is one of the most intimate things I can do. I can count the number of men I've kissed on one hand. There are people out there who have had my mouth on most areas of their bodies, but not their lips. 

But. 

You were kneeling there, hooded with only your mouth free. I was pulling hard on the chain between your nipple clamps. You tried to resist moving forward. (I never get tired of watching the internal battle to stay still) Your lips parted as you gasped with the pain. 

Eventually, blind and in pain, you stumbled closer to me. And as I leaned forward listening to your moans your mouth was right there. Open slightly, tongue quickly licking over them, soft, and inviting. And so I kissed you. I felt the shift move through your body as I breathed your breath, caught your moans with my mouth. 

And now I can't stop kissing you, even when your poor lips are bruised with bite marks. 

A confession

I'm a Domme and I like blow jobs. That may sound odd. I know a lot of people equate fellatio with submission. I don't. Blow jobs make me feel powerful.

I like to bite and now I have the most delicate part of his anatomy in my mouth, between my teeth. With tongue and teeth and lips I can control exactly how much pleasure and/or pain he experiences. My hands are free to touch his most intimate areas in just the way I want, if I want.

I can make it a quick trip over a waterfall, a roller coaster of ups and downs, or a long walk along a tightrope of a chasm of pleasure. I can push him over the edge and stop, ruining his fun or keep going until he becomes over sensitive and can't keep still. Or I can just stop when I feel like it, leaving him gasping and thrusting for more.

Power.

Please please please

I love hurting you. 

I love it when your teeth clench, your eyebrows pull together, and your whole body tenses but most of all, I love that look in your eyes.

 

You keep repeating "please please please". Finally I ask "please what? Please stop, please more?" All you can do us answer breathily "I don't know" and I laugh at you and pull off a clamp. 

Delicious. 

Sadistic pleasures

You're in pain.

Your hands are clenched, your body is rigid, your breathing is ragged.

You're unrestrained.

You could tell me to stop. You could defend yourself. You could get up and walk away. But you lie there and let me hurt you and it's absolutely delicious.

Occasionally your hands move to protect yourself and I wait. I know it's hard to lie still. And I get a fresh surge of tingles when you move them away again, opening yourself to more.

Thank you.

The road thus far

I have always enjoyed kinky sex and making people happy. I wandered innocently into my first BDSM chat room in 1998. I was amazed. Here were people talking about and acting out things I had only fantasied guiltily about.

I was a complete newbie. I didn't know the lingo, the protocols, or any of the people there. I sat and watched. I read things I didn't understand and I went and researched them. I created two usernames; one dominant, one submissive and I watched and learned. Luckily the chat room I stumbled into was populated with people who were genuine and sane.

So with my limited knowledge of BDSM and of myself I decided that I was submissive. Female dominants were whip wielding, leather clad and scary. That wasn't me. I was a people pleaser, a nurturer. I liked making people happy so I must be submissive. Perfect. Let's begin.

I met a Dom. I fell in love. I was getting tied up and spanked and getting all my kinky sex needs met, but there was a problem. While I often enjoyed fetching things for him and doing things around the house at other times I resented it. Why should I get up and get you a drink? Are your feet broken? Why do we have to eat there? I wanted to go somewhere else. I could not force myself to call him by any honorific except in bed and even then it was hard. Also I found that it was beginning to be hard to reach orgasm unless things were just so, the way I wanted them to be. So I topped from the bottom.

So of course I thought something was wrong with me. Why couldn't I be the perfect submissive that I saw all around me? Why did I resist so much? Simple, I wasn't submissive.

This went on for years! Madly in love with a man but not able to be what he wanted, what I thought I wanted. I was unhappy for a long time.

Then we both began to do some soul searching. To get in touch with the real us. We had always been honest with each other but now it was time to be honest with myself.

One day it clicked for me. Just because I wanted to make people happy and not walk around clad head to toe in black leather didn't mean I was submissive. I could be in control without sneakily doing it from the bottom. I could fetch a drink for a person because it pleased ME to do so. I could be nice and nurturing and still be a Domme!

Because honesty is important, and communication is one of mr fetishes, I shared this with the dom I loved. He wasn't happy. He was loosing his submissive. His stubborn, bitchy submissive but still. He felt betrayed. That I had been lying to him all this time. We talked. A lot. Soon he began to see that I had been lying to myself as well and that my change wasn't a negative reflection of his dom skillz but a positive awakening of my deepest inner self in the safety of his unflinching love.

Today we both identify as dominant type people. We are also poly so we each seek a person to meet our needs for a submissive outside of our relationship. I don't think our 15 year relationship has ever been stronger.

Bedtime

I'm tired. You know what to do. As you rise from your spot in front of the couch you gently place a kiss on my knee. You know that worshipful kisses are always permitted. I smile to myself as I listen to your bare feet pad across the kitchen.

After a few more lazy minutes with my book I follow you into the bedroom. In the soft light of the bedside lamp I see the blankets are turned down, the pillows are fluffed. It looks so inviting. But for now I'm more interested in the man kneeling with downcast eyes by my bed.


I stand in the doorway for a moment enjoying the site of the lamp light reflecting off the metal collar around your neck but also making you wait. You know I'm there, watching, and I can see subtle shifts in your body language as you slip deeper into your submissive head space. You're opening up to me silently pleading.


I cross the room and sit on the bed beside you. I stroke your hair, your check lightly and you press yourself closer to my hand wanting as much contact as possible. I bend down, letting my hand slip over your shoulder down your back and to your ass, which I pinch, before attaching the cuff to your right ankle. It's been a long day and I am tired so I lie back on my pillows and close my eyes.


Once chained to the bedpost you're free to move. I hear the quiet clink of chain as you draw the blankets up over me. As I snuggle in, you turn out the light and make yourself as comfortable as possible on the floor by the bed.


You know I'll probably invite you to join me in the big soft bed soon but there's always a chance I'll fall asleep first.

The things I want

One who isn't submissive to others in his day to day life but who submits to me, not because I'm female, not because he's horny but because he wants to submit to me specifically.

A gentleman. One who comes around the car to open my door, offers his arm, helps me off with my coat, pulls out chairs, rises when I leave the table, kisses my hand.

One who has a sense of humor and can joke and play can be a mischievous brat, not an annoying one.

One who is intelligent enough to be a smartass but knows when to behave as well.

One to whom I am important, who counts the minutes until he can see/speak with me again.

One who will pamper, massage, brush my hair, etc without expecting anything in return except my pleasure.

One who will curl up on the floor by my bed at night hoping to be invited up.

One who needs to kneel by my feet, bound and wanting, being of service, or just with head against my knee while I absentmindedly play with his hair.

One whose ass (or anything else) I can grab in public. Into whose ear I can whisper naughty things and torture with anticipation.

One who wants to be owned. To be mine. Who wants to be marked as my territory and property. Who wears a collar in private and something vanilla friendly in public so he is reminded often that he belongs to me. Whose orgasms, along with everything else, are mine. Who begs for permission to cum for my amusement, to be of service in any way I desire.

One who is respectful, but asks for what he wants when he wants it. Sometimes the answer is no, but I want to know what was wanted.

Someone who will allow me into their head, tell me their most secret desires but also about their day.

One who will be my dirty sex toy to play with in whatever way I want whenever and wherever I want, my table or footstool, and my sweet pet that craves affection, cuddles or a game of fetch.

One who calls me mistress or ma'am and means it.

One who is honest 100% of the time. When I ask a question, I want truth, not what the other thinks I want to hear.

I want to bite and suck and scratch and taste and caress and kiss and smack and pinch and nuzzle and smell and own.

I want to be a source of comfort on a bad day, a soft place to fall during trying times.

I want to redden his ass and then fuck it or be fucked by him depending solely on my mood.

On power and the exchange thereof

Kink is fun. Spanking, pegging, blindfolds and ball gags are all fun. A. Lot. Of. Fun. But what really gets my juices flowing (literally and figuratively) is the power exchange.

To be my happiest Domly self I don't need any tools or outfits, hell, I don't even need the sex. I need the power.

In previous relationships (or things that could've become relationships) I've said I wanted control. But I realize now that that is not entirely accurate. Which has probably screwed me a time or two.

Telling someone you want control implies that you want to control what they wear, eat, do with their free time, or the frequency with which they orgasm. But what I actually want is the power. More specifically I want the power to choose what I do and do not want to control.

Even more specifically I want/need someone to GIVE me that power. For me, it needs to be their choice to submit to me. I need someone to be mine but I also need them request to be mine, to offer themselves up.

Then I will happily take the reins (possibly also literally and figuratively).