Meeting Carrie

It was dark. I had no idea how long I’d been in there but it seemed like forever. He told me not to leave the closet and I’d tried to be good by staying there, but I had to go to the bathroom. I pressed my ear to the door and listened. There was no sound. I reached toward the handle and started to turn it. As the door swung out I noticed that a little slip of paper had be wedged on top. If I had opened it any more quickly it would’ve fallen off and he’d know that I’d tried to leave. Frustrated, I pulled the door shut again and sat down to wait for his return.

The closet was large. From what I saw before I was plunged into darkness it looked like the space was about five feet wide and eight to ten feet deep. The house was another new construction home. Each time that I’d been brought here I had only one purpose. I was to be used as a sexual slave.

Until tonight there’d only been him. It didn’t start this way. We began as coworkers. He’s one of those people that women flock to not because he’s incredibly good looking or because he has a great body, he’s neither of those, but because he has that aura of sexuality and a commanding presence.

In various different rooms in this house I’ve sucked his cock, I’ve been fisted, I’ve been spanked. I’ve had my pussy fucked hard and filled with cum. I’ve had my ass stretched to the point where I could bend over in front of a mirror hours afterward and marvel at it still gaping open wide. Tonight would be different. Tonight it wouldn’t be just him.

Moments after he locked me into my dark little prison he left to go collect a girl. I’ve never met her, but I’ve heard a lot about her from him. She worked as his assistant for years and they’ve fucked countless times in every variation possible. He tells me that I’ll like her. I’m not so sure about that.

Thinking about what is going to happen for the first time tonight gives me butterflies in my stomach. I’ve never been with a woman before in the way that is planned for tonight. I tell myself that it will be easy. All that I have to do is duplicate what I like done to myself on her. Simply touch her in the same way I like to be touched. The only problem is that she may not like those kind of touches after all. What if I don’t like her taste? What is she doesn’t like mine? What if she is not attracted to me? I have almost thought myself out of the entire thing when I hear voices coming up the stairs and into the master bedroom.

It sounds like he’s brought her with him. The woman who will be my first is just on the other side of the door. I blink as it swings open and the light assaults my eyes. I’m so nervous I can hardly look at her. I know that she is looking at me though. She is seeing my naked body for the first time. I wonder what she thinks. Her face shows nothing but the nervousness she is feeling as well. Somehow that is comforting.

They’ve brought some alcohol with them. I’m thankful. I think that I will need quite a bit of it in order to do what I want to do so badly tonight. It looks like she’s already started. He’s encouraging the two of us to come closer, to sit near each other and talk. I can feel his hand on my body sliding softly up and down my back and ass as he does the same to her.

I’ve been attracted to women for as long as I can remember. After gym class I’d have the chance to catch peeks of older girls changing. One in particular had beautiful dark Hispanic skin with even darker areola. Her breasts where full and round, perky. They made my mouth water. I wonder if she knew how badly I wanted to just lick one of her hard nipples. I doubt she did. I was invisible at that point in my life. No one ever noticed. It made it easier to take longer glimpses at those 16 and 17 year old goddesses dressing and undressing in front of me.

Carrie was different though. By now I’d had a few drinks and had the courage to look at her body. She had short reddish brown hair, almost pixieish, and a round face. Her lips were deliciously painted with shimmery lip gloss. Her skin was dark and tanned like those girls from my youth. Her breasts were full. Even though she was in her thirties gravity hadn’t begun to affect them too much yet. Her nipples were hard. Her body has become my epitome of sensual sexual women’s body types. She was neither too skinny nor too fat. Her thighs were just thick enough to give a girl something to hold onto when buried in her pussy. Her ass was round and fleshy, but firm and smooth.

Looking at her causes a gush of wetness between my legs. I look up at him and he nods slightly. It’s time.

Carrie and I nervously walk toward the center of the room. There’s no furniture in this house yet so we lie down next to each other on the floor. I think Carrie is a little less nervous than I am. I feel her hand beginning to explore my body. She touches my cheek with one finger then trails it down my body to my breast. I feel the warmth of her hand lightly pressing against me. She moves so that she is straddling my body and cups both breasts with her hands. I can feel her hot cunt against the flesh of my belly. She’s wet.

Those butterflies begin to flutter again inside me. For a moment I am unsure, I want to run, but one look from him commands me to stay. It is what I really want after all.

Carrie is now leaning down. I watch as her breasts move closer and closer to my mouth. I turn my head to the right and let one nipple press into my open mouth. She moans as I begin to suck. My hips start to move slightly. I’m feeling electric.

I place my hands on her hips and adjust her body so that her pussy is pressed against my smooth mound. Carrie begins to grind herself against my pubic bone. I pull her harder against me. One last time I look over at him and see his pleasure before I lose myself completely in the pleasure of my newest lover.

~~~

I’ve lost track of the times that we’ve cum now. I want her to be limp and exhausted when I am done with her though. I want to taste her more. I want to drink from her, suck her dry. My fingers are inside her plunging quickly in and out, fucking her. She’s lying on her back, her breasts fall slightly to the side. I love the way they move as I pump inside her. Her back is arched and she’s making the most beautiful sounds. Sweet little moans of pleasure mixed with grunts of need. When she cums she says, “oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah” over and over. She’s getting close now. I can feel the soft hot walls of her pussy clenching around me. Her body bucks up as her hands fly to her breasts. She pinches her nipples hard as her orgasm begins. I feel her, cumming around my fingers as they continue to slide in and out, and then, unexpectedly, a gush of wetness shoots from her glorious body leaving her wetness along the inside of my arm up to my elbow. I am amazed by the beauty of her, by the incredible feeling of giving her that orgasm, of her giving it to me.

She’s begging now for a break. Carrie’s panting and pleading. I keep my fingers inside so that I can feel her aftershocks. I don’t want it to end. I can’t get enough. She’s become my newest addiction. I lick the juice of her squirt from my arm and slide my fingers from her into my mouth. I love that taste.

Outside the sun is beginning to rise. We’ve been lost in each other for the entire night. The magic begins to dissipate. We get dressed once again shy and nervous. The blush on my face doesn’t stop me from telling her how much I enjoyed the night. It turns out that she did too and that we both want to do it again. Soon.

random thoughts

We have no dirt here and I miss it. Here, there's sand. The top foot or two of earth is dirty sand, not dirt, but dirty sand and under that is clean sand. Sand. Sand. Sand. I miss that rich earthy smell when gardening or weeding. I miss the feel of it after it's been in the sun and it's warm and inviting. I miss the big fat worms that would slink their way through it. I miss the thick mud splattering up on my legs when I run through it. The fact that I'm 5 minutes from the beach kind of makes up for it though.

The Heart Asks Pleasure First

I'm in a zony kind of mood today. Reflective yet sensual. I have this song on the dPod and I've been playing it over and over. Can you feel it? Can you feel that passion coursing through you when it plays? Close your eyes and breathe it in deeply. Saturate yourself in it. When it stops do it again once or twice more until all that you are is the music, until the thud of the keys is the pound of your heart. Give in, even if just for a moment.

Podcast - Valentine's Day, Feeldoe and Ginsberg

*free*

In this session deidre talks about Valentine’s Day, The Feeldoe and Ginsberg's "Please Master" one of her favorite erotic poems.

"I need you"

Three simple little words that have so much power. It’s been a long time since deidre has heard those words. It’s been a while since deidre has felt needed.

“I need you” deidre keeps replaying them in her mind.

Hearing that this morning made this girl feel raw, made her feel incredible. It was like a drug and it’s still running through her system.

she wants to be able to tease and taunt until that need becomes overwhelming. she wants to have her hair clenched in a fist, jerked here and there, face slapped, ass beaten, until her head is pulled down into that beautiful sweet juicy cunt. she wants to be able to feel that pussy pinning her down, grinding against her, soaking her with juices as she tries desperately to ram her tongue in and out of that wonderful sweet passage, nibbling and sucking on that swollen clit. she wants to be taken harshly, just to be left tied down and helpless for the next wave of desire and need to wash over her captor until deidre’s lying there limp and breathless marinating in someone else’s juices, sticky and hot with sex. she wants to be used as a living breathing sex toy until she’s worn out but still wanting more…more…more…until there’s nothing left to give and nothing left to take.

Oh, Ye of Little Faith!

Yes, it does exist!

THE BABY JESUS BUTTPLUG!!

a nudist is simply a human being without "artifical additives"

Last night deidre was talking with a Caller when the subject of being dressed came up. deidre realized that she hasn’t been out of the house since going to the grocery store on the 26th of January. There hasn’t been any company that’s come over for whom deidre needed to be present and if she’s gone outside it’s been into the backyard where clothing doesn’t matter, or nighttime when clothing still doesn’t matter. That means that deidre has basically been naked for the last 14 days strait. Wow. Sometimes time goes by and deidre forgets how much time she actually spends in the nude. Then deidre thinks about how difficult it must be for Master. 14 entire strait days of naked deidre. However does He cope? ;)

a taste of deidre

I am Chocolate Flavoured. I am sweet and a little bit naughty. I am one of the few clinically proven aphrodisiacs. Sometimes I can seem a little hard, but show warmth and I soon melt.

The SpermCube

deidre has a fantasy that always seemed a bit unrealistic. she would be placed in a giant Plexiglas cylinder. Man after Man would come by and jerk off, with or without deidre help, into the cylinder so that eventually deidre is literally swimming in cum. this girl thinks that part that makes it the most exciting is that deidre will be able to see all of those men cumming for her, cumming on her, cumming with her. she’ll be able to get all of those guys off herself. It’s a pretty big compliment.

So this morning she was playing around on the net when she stumbled across the SpermCube.

French artist Philippe Meste’s goal is to create the biggest boxful of sperm ever. By time the it’s completed there will be one ton of human sperm inside the box. The site spermcube.org gives information on requesting a sperm donation kit or if a sperm donation isn’t your thing you can become a shareholder. Each shareholder will receive a piece of the action when the artwork is sold.

So, if this French guy can do it, why can’t deidre? People would be more willing to send her their cum than some guy right? If deidre's calculations are right it'd only be about 33,800 loads of cum.  Any volunteers?

Masochism as a Form of Pleasure

deidre has received quite a few comments and e-mails in response to the recordings that she made with Miss Isabella. One of them said,

“There is no judgment here. If you really did what you described to sell recordings, I honestly do not understand the concept. If you faked some or all of it, then I would feel better. This is not a judgment, but an admission on my part that I cannot understand this as a form of pleasure unless it comes about from pleasing someone in charge. Life is tough enough. I like and respect you too much to understand this.”

This is a person that deidre respects quite a bit (yes, even the “morning after”) He’s been trying from when we first began speaking to understand deidre’s submission outside of the bedroom.

deidre has other callers as well who’ve asked her about this very same thing. They get to know deidre and begin to feel that she’s far to nice or sweet to be in a relationship with someone who exercises His sadistic nature. They feel that deidre should be spoiled and treated like a princess, except, of course when she is being fucked like a little whore.

To be honest, deidre can only handle so much of that. Yes, presents are nice. That part of being a princess deidre could handle easily however the other aspects, the pampering, the expensive clothes and makeup and jewelry, the nails and hair, the closets full of clothes, the sitting back and having a Man wrapped around deidre’s finger manipulating Him to get her to do what she wants…all of that is just…well…too similar to parts of deidre’s marriage.

The first thing that needs to be addressed is what deidre gets out of the pain or discipline. deidre’s written before that she is just about the furthest thing there is from being a physical masochist. deidre does not like pain. deidre doesn’t yet have the ability to separate the hurt from it and to feel it simply as sensation then translate that into level of sensation which in the end makes intensity level 3 of pleasure and intensity level 3 of pain equal. At least that’s how deidre imagines that it works for you lucky people who crave this kind of thing. It’s all about the level of intensity of sensation rather than the type of sensation.

Before a session deidre can feel herself gradually begin to crumble inside. If deidre has long enough to think about what Master might do to her she comes close to panicking. The closer the time is, the more terrified deidre becomes, until finally she’s there, tied down or up, or not depending upon Master’s preference at the time. this girl tries to take deep breathes. she tries to focus and to concentrate on how honored she is supposed to feel to be giving Him this kind of pleasure.

That only lasts through the first few strokes. Then deidre starts to fight it. she doesn’t struggle or beg. It’s all a mental fight, but gradually she loses that battle too. If the session is long enough there’s a point that deidre gets to where she begins to feel sorry for herself. she wonders why they hell she submits herself to this. she wonders how long it will last. she dwells on how much it hurts and how much she hates the pain.

There’s a wall that she teeters on at this point until finally something gives inside and she falls off of it and into total submission. she comes to the point where she every part of her is at His mercy, her heart, her soul, her mind, her body. It’s all there vulnerable for Him. All thoughts cease to exist. Everything and nothing at the same time. deidre doesn’t know how to explain it. What she knows is that it’s this point, this loss of control, this wiping clean of her little slave slate, that deidre must get to.

Somehow it feeds a deep need in this girl. It’s not the pain that she needs, or the realization of His Sadistic satisfaction. It’s the act of submitting every cell and fiber and thought. Once the session is over, deidre’s body is welted and bruised but her spirit is healed of even the tiniest little bits of damage that may have developed.

The second point that needs to be addressed then would be what deidre gains out of more casual sessions such as those that she takes part in over the phone and those with Miss Isabella that don’t lead to total submission as some of the longer sessions with Master do.

deidre is a pleaser. she’s been a pleaser from a very early age. she enjoys making people happy. As a slave who has no personal property, monies, or time there are very few ways to do this. deidre can’t buy presents for people whenever she wants, she can’t send cards, or make calls, she can’t go to someone’s house and cook them dinner just to say, “I love you” What she can do though is give pleasure with her words, her imagination and her body.

Any sensation that deidre feels (pain or pleasure) through whatever acts are required to make the other person happy is lessoned as the other person’s happiness increases. The pain is such a small price to pay to hear someone laugh, or moan, or cum or to hear those precious words, “good girl” or “thank you, deidre” Those little phrases make it all worth it.

Do you love deidre?

Ahem...the correct answer is yes! :D

Do you remember the big production that Valentine's Day used to be in school? Goofy little cards and candies and cupcakes, a party, sending anon love to that special boy or girl etc. Well, deidre misses that, so we're going to do it with this neat little box down below. Sorry. No candy or cupcakes, but you can send love and hugs and kisses :)

Get your own valentinr