Claiming (2/?): “Assume the position.”
These events took place circa. October 2009. Read part 1 here.
Day #2
Two days later, on a typically doleful Monday, I was at work when Sir emailed me. He was at work, too, and was having a stressful day. He asked me if I was up to helping him "relieve himself." I agreed at once - both excited to see what was to come and glad to escape my own humdrum day, if just for a little while.
He asked if I had done anything to warrant a spanking, and I told him a few "bad" things I had done over the past few days. Slept through class. Behind on work. The usual transgressions. He said that I should take my academics more seriously, and then asked that I "assume the position": all fours, face down. He wanted me to feel vulnerable. I was familiar with how that position felt - it made me feel exposed - but tantalizingly so - imagining the gaze of my lover wandering down my body, taking in everything.
Sir started spanking me, again: harsh swats that stung and reddened up my skin. He built up a rhythm until he was happy with the hue of my behind, then soothed my burning skin with his hands.
At the library front desk, I bit my lip and shifted, suddenly uncomfortable in my seat. My eyes were fixed on the computer screen - utterly intent on it. I hoped that the head librarian wouldn't suddenly come by to fetch something, as she sometimes did, because I didn't want to interrupt our session by having to hurriedly minimize my email in order to hide it.
He resumed spanking me, letting his fingers land between my legs, moving on to heavier blows... I let him know how turned on I was, and imagined what I'd do if this was really happening - gasp, squeal, half-attempting to escape from his blows and half-arching towards his touch; wanting and detesting the mix of pleasure and pain at the same time.
By then, my work shift had come to an end and I had to leave to do some errands. I told Sir, and so we switched to text messages. It was so unbelievably hot to do something as mundane as stand in line to pick up some packages, but with my thumbs flying over the keypad of my cell-phone, attempting to settle my facial expression into a non-incriminating configuration that did not betray what I was doing, heat pooling at my clit...
Sir began probing me, pressing his fingers inside me as he continued landing slaps all over my behind. I was both embarrassed and intensely aroused, groaning, overwhelmed with sensations. He rocked his hand as I rocked back into him, then pulled his fingers out and rubbed my clit, using his other hand to pull my hair so my head snapped back uncomfortably.
And then he took his cock out, the cock that I had never seen but knew was thick and substantial, according to what he had told me, and that I knew would stretch and fill me wonderfully... He pulled my body towards him, sinking himself into me. I tried my muffle my moans until he asked me to stop... half-reluctantly I took my knuckles out of my mouth and let my moans and choking cries fill the room. He pounded into me until he was about to go over the edge... then pulled out just as he came, spurting his come all over my back, leaving me limp, shuddering, and sated...
The end of our tryst found me in the library again, this time getting ready to do some homework... but so wet, bothered and distracted that I could barely even focus on the readings in front of me; my mind filled with gorgeous, filthy images as a result of what had just happened between us.
But things did not end there - Sir had more in store for me: he wanted to stake a claim on me. It was early afternoon and the day still stretched on before us, and Sir gave me a list of things that he wanted me to accomplish before going to sleep.
To be continued...
Claiming (1/?): “I want to brutalize you.”
These events took place circa October 2009.
Recently, I found a hot new person to play with. Well - "new" is not entirely correct. We've known each other for quite a while, but this is the first time he has expressed desire for me. Sure, we flirted casually with each other in the past, but I never thought there was anything behind the words. (I suppose it didn't help that both of us were dating other people at the time.)
But apparently there is.
There is something so intense and exciting about interacting sexually with someone who you are emotionally connected to, but have previously only been platonic with. Typically, I do hook up with people I know, at least, and then get to know them better after hooking up with them because, well, I prefer to have some kind of relationship with the people I'm hooking up with, but I rarely have been close friends with someone and then added a sexual dimension to our friendship.
And, obviously, I've wanted him for quite a while. Which makes this even better.
But this is also a little aggravating.
Because he graduated a year ago and no longer lives here.
In fact, he lives far, far away, and I don't even know when we'll be in the same place again.
Why does this always happen!?
...Anyway, the fuzzy, good feelings definitely outweigh the bad. Knowing that someone I want, wants me as well? And actually has wanted me for a while? That is pretty damn awesome.
I ended up long-distance subbing for him for one short, but wonderful, week. Only a week because he ended up not having enough time to put into it as he wanted. He does have a job and a life, after all. I was disappointed, but glad that anything even happened between us at all...
---
Day #1
It all started when I sent him an email saying that I had had a sexy dream about him. Which wasn't really anything more risque than anything we had said to each other before. But later, we found each other on IM and he told me what an ego-stroke that email was.
I elaborated for him: I dreamt that I was naked; he pushed me over the arm of a couch, spanked and groped me, and made me get him off.
He told me that that sounded like something he would do. Except he'd probably jerk off on me instead. Or fuck me, because he has never fucked me before.
Hmm. This was a change. Sure we'd "talked dirty" a little to each other before, but it had never gone on for this long, or gotten this far.
Soon, he was reddening up my ass and scratching over my back. He shoved my head into the couch cushions, held me down, took his cock out and started touching me.
Gulp. It was at this point that I reached into my shorts. And realized that I was dripping wet.
He told me how much he loved my shapeliness - my ass and my narrow waist; how he wanted to brutalize me and leave me bruised; how he wanted to pull my hair and force me to my knees and have me worship his cock...
"If you're good," he said, "you get to put it in your mouth."
This was a change for me. It's not often that I get turned on by being talked down to. Most of the time it actually pisses me off. But this was different, this wasn't some guy, this was him, and I surprised myself by how much I wanted to please him; how much I wanted to suck his cock...
Then he pushed me over, fucking me hard from behind, not trying to get me off, but wanting to make me feel owned... If I began to come he'd interrupt it with a scratch or spank. "You need to feel used up," he told me.
Our conversation shifted to other things then, and after a while I had to go offline because I was going to visit a friend.
But one important thing I gleaned from this was: he really wanted to fuck me. He desired me. What a good thing to know.
I had been touching myself the entire time we were talking. I thought that the conversation was a one time thing, a result of chance and mutual horniness, but it would turn out that I was wrong...
To be continued...
“Body like a battleaxe”
Remember when I said that the Emperor sent me a series of hot emails that I very much wanted to post, but decided not to? Well, I think I can get around the whole consent issue by writing the imagined scenario from my point of view instead.
---
[via Viviane]
"Were I to dom you, Wilhelmina..." he said in his email...
We're in that room, in the basement. I'm sitting in the middle of the floor on a stool with my hands on my knees; and even though I'm fully clothed I feel completely naked. You're circling me, slowly, and I know you don't want me to move so I'm trying not to, but it's difficult. Your gaze is so intense and it makes me feel self-conscious. I want to look away, but I can't...
Finally you say something.
"Close your eyes."
Relief. My eyes flutter shut but almost immediately I want to open them again. I want to know what you're going to do. But I make myself keep them shut; I make myself obey.
I gasp in surprise when I feel your fingertips lightly trace along my shoulders and up my neck. You're barely touching me but every movement is electric. I can hear you breathe now, as you bring your cheek close to mine. Not even skin brushing skin. Merely the fine hairs on your face displacing mine.
I'm tense. I want to move but I'm utterly unable to.
And then you're dipping your hands under my shirt, easing it up my body and over my head. My bra soon comes off as well. A few seconds of breathless nothing - I can feel your gaze raking over my naked back - and then you're sweeping my long hair over my left shoulder.
My eyes are still clamped shut when I feel your mouth on the small of my back. I yelp. Your soft, warm lips and sharp teeth graze my skin all the way up my spine until you reach my neck. At which point you bite and suck hard at my tender shoulders and throat. Tasting me.
I groan, letting my head tilt back ever so slightly, feeling myself start dripping. God, I want you so bad, and I want to tell you as much...
Then your hands. They press against my quivering thighs, run over them and my hips, my stomach and stop at my naked breasts. You tease my nipples between... your thumb and forefinger, probably... so lightly, while you continue to bite me roughly enough to make me cry out.
"Are you aroused?" Your voice is velvet and liquid sex and dark, dark chocolate.
"Yes," I mutter. You pull me to my feet briefly to ease my skirt and panties off.
"Then touch yourself - tease your clit out. Don't masturbate. Just make yourself ready."
My mouth is a thin, straight line. I've only touched myself in front of another person once, and that was only for a few brief seconds. Nevertheless, I move one hand from my knee to reach in between my legs and rub myself. Soon I'm swelling, standing to attention. Meanwhile, you're moving my legs, spreading them apart, and tying my ankles securely to the back legs of the stool.
You're in front of me; I can feel it. The silence twists itself around us like a snake. My eyelids have flickered so many times since you told me to keep them closed but I've managed to not fully open them. Yet.
I feel your hand at the small of my back, your breath on my vulnerable chest and then - god - your tongue on my nipples, laving one, then the other, and then your lips wrap around it instead. Sucking. I try hard not to whimper, biting my bottom lip hard.
You stand back up again and I'm panting and you're pulling my hands away from where I was still caressing myself. And you bring my arms behind my back, tying my wrists together as firmly as my ankles. Before I can even hazard a guess at what's going to come next I feel your tongue, again - on my clit now - slick and wet and quick and maddening. I swear you're making figure-eights with your tongue. (If you're supposed to be domming me, why does it still feel like I'm being serviced?) I want desperately to thrust against your face but I can't because of the rope, the damn rope.
I'm panting hard when you withdraw again and almost shriek in frustration.
I give a wholly different kind of shriek when the first blow from the riding-crop hits home.
You strike my breasts, my sides, my pussy with sharp, smart thwips, and with every strike I have to press my lips together harder to stop the cries that threaten to escape. The crop stings when it hits my sensitive folds, but then why - why - am I getting closer and closer to coming?
You rip my orgasm away from me when you stop spanking my pussy and instead move behind me. You make sure to move my arms further up my back before raining blows onto my lower back and ass. You're not holding back now. I can tell. Each strike has a crisp, audible slap to it, and feels like fire. My jaw is slack - my mouth is open and wordless and I can practically feel my skin rising into red welts all over.
After what seems like hours, you stop. I hear the crop falling to the floor and a soft bump as you fall to you knees behind me. Your hands are at my hips, and you ghost light caresses over me - caresses as light as your blows were rough.
I assume that you're done and I let myself relax. Big mistake. Before I'm even aware of what's happening, two of your fingers are deep inside my dripping cunt. You hook your fingers, pumping me, your fingers banging hard against my walls. And I'm moaning. My eyes are open wide and I'm hoarsely moaning. You're standing now and I can feel your ample breasts against my back. Your breath is hot in my ear.
Yes. Yes. Yes. More. You continue pounding me relentlessly and when I finally come, I scream.
A few fuzzy moments later your hand is in front of my face and I'm licking it clean. And then you come in and kiss me properly.
Me: "That was... wonderfully hot. And so, so perfectly fitting. And I'm going to be horribly distracted for the rest of the evening"
Him: "Always glad to be of service."
Taking Stock
So, this past week, I had a couple of posts that I published, and then made "protected", and then decided not to post at all. I realized that I was getting carried away. I had forgotten one of the important "rules" concerning writing/blogging that I've learnt during this little sexblog fiasco: exclusion. Including every single detail can certainly kill a story - but besides that, just because I have a blog doesn't mean I need to disclose every single thing that happens.
Some things are just not meant to be made public.
The first post was a series of gossippy chats between me and the Scientist - basically, he's started hooking up with the Emperor and his gf, and has almost hooked up with K on several occasions. (Hey - one fantasy fulfilled.) Personally, I found it extremely amusing that my fwbs were converging like that... Anyway, we both exchanged comments about the Emperor and his gf and agreed that they're both very amazing, hot people. The Scientist pretty much implied that he wished I was there with them so I could join the sexy mayhem. We both wondered what would happen if me, him, the Emperor and his gf were to all sleep together at the same time (conclusion: multiple small explosions). And the Scientist threw out that he wants to fuck K (and possibly other people) with me once I get back. I've definitely wanted to try cruising for people together with an fwb, but right now I really don't know what I feel about doing that with the Scientist. It might kick up way too much chaos (the negative kind) than it would be worth.
I didn't post that in the end because - well, it was a circus of a conversation. Pretty vapid and immature. It was funny to me, but probably unreadable to anybody else. The other reason was that I showed the conversation to my friend S, to ask her opinion on whether or not I should post it, and she told me that what I was talking about in the conversation "sounded unhealthy."
More on that later.
The second post was a series of hot emails between me and the Emperor. The Scientist was dirty-emailing with the Emperor but had to go offline and work, and he happened to be chatting to me at the same time, so... surprise! He "tagged" me and told me to pick up where he left off. More of me being amused. But nevertheless, I emailed the Emperor and the result was a very nice, deep, sexy conversation, which ended in him sending me a long description of how he pictured himself domming me. (He's naturally a sub, but I mentioned how I really wanted to be dommed at some point, and he said that for people he was especially close to, he could probably make an exception...)
It was a fucking gorgeous, arousing description. Beautiful, really. Pretty much exactly what I would want my first dom experience to be like. But I couldn't bring myself to post that either because... well, he doesn't know about this blog and I don't know how comfortable he would be with his words all over the internet. And those words were meant for me to read. He waited until things were quiet at work, and until no one was around, before sitting down and writing that email to me. Letting other people read it - lovely as you all may be - would... make it seem less meaningful, somehow. Less special.
Okay. Maybe just one line. One line! No more than a taste. The rest is for my enjoyment only 
...bringing my arms around you, sliding my fingers lightly over your legs, tracing up your thigh, rubbing and squeezing your clit before coming in to fuck you, fingers hooked, pumping and banging against the walls of your sweet dripping pussy, all hot breath and sweat...
(Mrr... how can he make my breath stop and my body weak over email? Seriously, how?!)
Anyway - the point is that all of this has made me want to stop and evaluate what, exactly, I want to do with this sexblog. And perhaps what, exactly, I want to do with my sex life in general, but I have a feeling that the blog will be easier to deal with.
I started blogging because I had wanted to experiment with writing about sex(uality) for a while. I briefly considered filling the long-empty sex-columnist position at my college's liberal publication, but I wasn't comfortable with even the people on staff knowing who I was behind the pen-name. And I had been wanting to start a blog for some time as well so... voila. I also thought that, well, since I spent so much time talking about sex anyway, I might as well write about it instead, and give some of my long-suffering friends some peace.
But what else? I wanted to, in some sense, immortalize the people close to me and the intimate moments I shared with them. (I mean, in no way at all am I comparing myself to Shakespeare and his sonnets, but still.) Besides my own erotic experiences, I want to deconstruct relationships and queerness and kink. I wanted to present a new, fresh perspective on a subject that is already beaten to death. But what that perspective is, and why it's "new" and "fresh", I still don't know.
Blogging has helped me become more confident, both as a writer and a person. Through expressing myself and my sexuality on a regular basis - but also because of my readers. =) But a blog can only go so far... and can definitely present a skewed version of who I am. This is a sexblog after all, so I try to keep on-topic.
Sex is a big part of my life, but it's not the be-all and end-all of who I am:
I'm a writer.
I'm curious and exploratory.
I want to travel and see more of the world.
I'm existentialist.
I like taking pictures.
I probably daydream too much.
I love the ocean.
I like art, and culture, and want to immerse myself in it more.
I like watching good live music.
When left to my own devices, I largely end up living nocturnally.
I drink too much coffee.
I have insecurity-attacks way too often.
I need to be needed.
I find myself drawn to odd, eccentric, awesome people.
Lately I've suffered from an unfortunate addiction to electropop.
I'm trying to figure out what I want to do with my life.
...And, well, maybe I don't just need to remind my readers of that; maybe I need to remind myself, too.
Adventures in Digital: “Sweet fucking agony.”
The first AiD can be found here.
Yeah, it's been a while. This chat is probably from about a month ago. Only posting it now because recently I've been thinking about Christopher - and fantasizing about him - a fair amount.
Him putting me over his lap, yanking down my underwear and spanking me with his hand or with something flat and hard, as I'm reduced to overwhelmed, painpleasured tears.
Me lying spreadeaged on my bed, face up, arms and legs restrained. (I really must invest in the Under the Bed Restraints that everyone is talking about.) Blindfolded with no idea of what to expect. Laid bare for him to do whatever he wants with. His to tease, with hands and tongue and toys, until I'm begging him to let me come.
Me fucking him from behind, shoving his face into the mattress as a gag muffles his moans.
Me straddling his face, pushing my clit into his mouth.
Over the weekend I found myself envisioning these things and masturbating to them. I never usually envision myself. I tend to fantasize about anonymous, hot people, or people I have been with before. I think being able to picture us doing some of those things is a step to getting over my whole embarrassment surrounding them.
I probably wouldn't ask, or let, or trust, anyone else do most those of things to me besides Christopher.
---
Christopher: wondering what you were thinking about
Wilhelmina: i was actually thinking about what i'm like when i come. at that precise moment
Christopher: fantastic. i'm pretty sure i have a series of different reactions to cumming. sometimes it feels explosive, and other times it feels like a velvet sin escaping my body. sometimes it's part of a grand motion and i'm very noisy and arching. and other times it's a small part of the whole motion, because i'm so absorbed in the act of entangling with another person.
Christopher: i'd like to make you come in different ways, all in a row… spanking, teasing, licking, fingering, fucking, anal-fucking, dildo-fucking me as the strap-on rubs you into orgasm
Wilhelmina: i've tried to imagine getting spanked by you and it's very difficult... but i'm really looking forward to it...
Christopher: i think i would really enjoy turning you over and spanking you. though i think i would give into temptation and alternately spank you, and then slide my fingers into you. maybe ass, maybe pussy, depending on how naughty i'm feeling.
Wilhelmina: unpredictability is a plus, my dear. teasing, sometimes, is also a plus
Wilhelmina: trying to picture if i would be draped across your lap or splayed on all fours in front of you
Christopher: i'd make sure your legs were spread wide by tapping your thighs lightly… and then hold one hand up high so you could see it from the corner of your eye… and then spank you with the other hand, when you were anticipating the other one
Wilhelmina: i would probably make a muffled noise even if i tried not to… embarrassinnnnng.
Christopher: making noise is good. your restraint is sultry too. i remember you biting one of your knuckles when you came one time
Wilhelmina: more often than not i end up with my knuckle/fingers in my mouth because i don't want to make noise... but need to release pressure somehow. or by grabbing hard onto the sheets, or onto skin
Christopher: i'm a moaner, i have to admit
Wilhelmina: it's very hot
Christopher: it's kinda embarrassing sometimes
Wilhelmina: no, i really like your noises.
Christopher: i can't help them, most of the time-- it's like the feeling of sliding inside you has to escape somehow
Wilhelmina: i think we made the bed move a couple times when we had sex in my room...
Christopher: yeah, we definitely make it do some wacky creaking. and hit the walls
Wilhelmina: mmm i really like fingering you btw
Christopher: i like the feeling of your finger in me-- it's so tight and intrusive, but so powerful-- it feels like it's running up my entire body
Christopher: okay, dammit, i need to finger myself now
Wilhelmina: i wish i could hear you. i could probably come just from listening to your pants and gasps and moans and murmurs
Christopher: mmm, i'm rubbing myself.
Wilhelmina: i'm imagining the taste and feel of your cock on my tongue.
Christopher: your tongue always felt so warm and slick. and your hands, reaching...
Wilhelmina: sucking you... while one of my fingers is circling your asshole, rubbing softly
Christopher: ahh… i'm looking imploringly at you and groping for your body as well
Wilhelmina: i look up at you and slide my finger inside you... slowly... tantalizingly. i curl my finger up slightly. and then start moving it in and out. slowly. gently
Wilhelmina: what do you want?
Christopher: my cock twiches as you curl your finger… you feel so hard inside me
Wilhelmina: i'm still sucking on your cock. sucking and running my tongue over it
Christopher: i want you to fuck me softly while... ahh, yesss, while sucking on my cock
Wilhelmina: moving my fingers faster now. feeling the pressure of your insides on them, pushing against them
Christopher: faster, god, so hard to keep up typing and not come with you doing all this to me
Wilhelmina: i want to taste your come. feel it spill out from my lips. and feel your ass clench and squeeze my fingers out of you
Christopher: oh, fuck, you're going to make me come so soon… it’s embarrassing
Wilhelmina: three fingers now, as deep as they can go. i swallow you. swallowing and plunging into you at the same time... intoxicating
Christopher: fuckfuckfuck… three fingers is a LOT. and your mouth is going to make me melt
Wilhelmina: i plunge in hard and come out fast, and plunge in again
Christopher: i can't hold back from moaning
Wilhelmina: god, i love your moans. i suck you as deep as i can and spread your legs, fucking you
Christopher: i'm squirming and thrusting and pulling back all at the same time.
Wilhelmina: i want to make it so you can't decide whether to push back or thrust into my mouth
Christopher: sweet fucking agony. my ass is burning and feels so sweet from your fingers. and i can't believe how hard i am
Wilhelmina: i love the feeling of your ass and cock. i twist and flex my fingers inside if you, searching... trying to feel all of you… and suck up your dick, and swallow it again, swirling my tongue
Christopher: i'm gasping over here now, moaning and straining in your mouth
Wilhelmina: i strain to watch you
Wilhelmina: come… come... i go faster, harder… i want you to come so hard that it ripples over your entire body
Christopher: sgagsad… coming, coming… coming inside you as you pull outttt
Wilhelmina: i catch your come in my mouth… can't swallow all of it…so it drools over my chin...
Christopher: i'm still coming, and still hard, want to do you. unfair - you didn't get to come.
Wilhelmina: that's quite alright.
Christopher: also, you're not right here
Wilhelmina: not being there is quite NOT alright. i swear... once we have sex IRL and not online i'm probably just going to...i don't know. implode or something
Christopher: well, here's hoping i don't become horrible at IRL sex in the meantime
Wilhelmina: somehow, i highly doubt that.
Adventures in Digital – prelude 1
Another email conversation:
[Me:
i just had the. hottest. sexchat/whatever with Christopher.
let's just say the dildo we bought was put to good use
note: i did NOT bring it with me.[The Actor:
HAHAHAHAHAH
OMG.
wait, so how was the dildo put to good use?!
This blog contains adult content.
Wilhelmina Wang. Queer, female college student with her mind lodged firmly in the gutter, seeking genderbenders, lessons in BDSM, a meaningful fuck, and a point in life.
Here's where her mind is spilled like the proverbial guts.
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