Throbbing cunt

Quick question for the ladies:

The Hitachi. Yay or nay?

I know many people love it, but I’m a tad worried about over-stimulation. I’ve numbed myself a bit before with heavy use of powerful vibes. Is it worth the slight drop in sensitivity? I know everyone is different – just looking for opinions.

I’m just curious about whether or not to buy myself a christmas present.

As it is, the furious masturbation continues. Half the time my cunt is dripping from the built up tension in my mind and body. Would anyone like to help a horny little sub out and direct her to some hot literotica or porn that you particularly like?

<3 Ruby

Is a good fuck so hard to come by?

I am incredibly worked up these days, as you can well imagine. Last night, while trying to fall asleep, I got the idea that it might be beneficial to masturbate. But rubbing one out on its own wasn’t going to do it.

I put my nipple clamps on, pinched two clothespins onto my labia and squatted over my largest, thickest dildo while playing with my clit and imagining myself getting flogged by the guy I was talking about in the last post (We’ll call him Mr. X). It was lovely and it didn’t take long to get myself off. However, ultimately, it was a sad substitution for the real thing.

Ugh! My frustration is building and there is only so much I can do with my own hands.

<3 Ruby

Chrysalis

March 5th.

March 5th. That, if I remember correctly, was just under 2 weeks before the complete demise of my relationship. It seems like such a long time ago now, that in some ways, it barely seems real.

It’s true. My former dominant, love and friend left me all those months ago. Left me a crumpled mess on the floor. Told me it was over, left for the night, came back the next day and moved himself out. I was crushed. I was lost. I was starting a new contract the very next day and didn’t know how on earth I was going to muster up the inner strength to put on a happy face and get through it.

But, what I failed to realize at the time was just how strong a girl I actually was. I was horribly sad and lonely and scared for a few days, and then slowly, over a matter of weeks, I began to find myself again. I began to realize how unhealthy pretty much every aspect of our relationship had been (other than our sex life). I began to rediscover the amazing person that I am – all on my own – without needing validation from anyone else. By the end of the 2.5 month contract, I had emerged as a bright, shiny and new Ruby. Suddenly the glass wasn’t half empty all the time. Suddenly, I was brave enough to take on challenges I didn’t think possible. I wasn’t ready to jump right into another D/s relationship though – play or otherwise.

And now, December of 2010 has arrived. And things are good.

But still, something is missing. I feel a yearning, deep within me. My desire to submit, to serve, to play is growing stronger by the day. This is not the kind of thing I enter into lightly, but I miss it so much. I crave it.

I want to feel the bite of rope on my skin. The thud of the paddle on my ass. The tears burning my eyes as a cock bangs away at the back of my throat. I’m even dreaming about the sting of a cane on the backs of my thighs – though that dream might be short lived if it comes true anytime soon ;)…but. I have 5 pieces of leather. My collar, and my cuffs. They were earned, so though they came out of a now dead relationship, they are MINE. And I want them to be put to use again.

Almost every encounter (and there have been a number) I’ve had since my relationship ended has been very vanilla. And while that can be fun, they’ve ultimately been…unfulfilling. There were two exceptions to that – I ended up playing (very lightly) with a friend, which was great at the time but wasn’t something that we could pursue any further.

And there was a person that I have fantasies about. This person who I kissed 4 times. This person who is totally unavailable, but whose eyes and hands and voice have a power over me. He has an incredible presence and though I have no idea if he is into this crazy lifestyle that I call home, in my imagination…just, wow. I’ll probably write more about this one soon.

So this blog, once a documentation of a girl in a relationship with a sadistic dominant who did not always use his position for the common good, is now going to become the chronicle of someone reconnecting with her kinky desires – and not losing herself in the process.

<3 Ruby

Making time

In the midst of a particularly hectic time for me and Sir alike, it is always so comforting for me to come home at the end of the day and find Sir sitting at his desk. I walk up to him, kneel beside his chair and put my head in his lap while he strokes my hair. It isn’t long until I’m the one doing the stroking, unzipping his pants and taking his cock in my mouth.

There hasn’t been much heavy impact play, which I both miss and am grateful for, as I’m incredibly busy and more often than not just want some intimacy and some satisfaction from pleasing my lover, my master, my best friend.

I also love the quick jaunts home for lunch, when we meet, shovel food into our mouths and have a hard, rough, sweaty quickie before running back out the door, all smiles from the nasty secrets dampening our pants.

After two years, I think I’m even more passionate and even deeper in my submissive mindset than I was early in the lust stage of our relationship. And that makes me smile. I’m sitting here naked, in my collar, just finished fucking myself and…happy. I hope everyone feels that ray of sunshine-y goodness today. At least for a moment.

<3 Ruby

I’m back!

Hi folks!

I’ve been away for a while, out of town, but I’m back now and as soon as more naughty, nasty occurrences…occur, I’ll let you know.

Hope all is well!

<3 Ruby

Sharing one of our best nights

The scene: February, 2008. A chilly, bright and sunny day turning into a chilly, calm and dark evening.

The players: Ruby and Sir

The action:
I had to work on that fateful day. Throughout the day I knew that Sir was planning something fun for us for that night, but I had no idea what he had up his sleeve. I watched the clock as the countdown of hours turned into a countdown of minutes. When I was finally done for the day, I went home, took a shower and started the intricate process of finding that perfect balance of romantically, softly pretty and sexily tarty. I was to meet Sir at seven thirty at the arts space where he worked. I wasn’t sure what was awaiting me, but I was excited. I’d made Sir some chocolate fudge (for his unyielding sweet tooth) and had written him a heartfelt valentine. My meager offering would soon be blown out of the water by what he’d done, but at this point, I was in the dark.

I got off the bus and as I approached the building, the lights were off. I opened the door, which was unlocked, and walked in, somewhat confused by the lack of lights and lack of Sir. I took a few more steps into the lobby, and saw four red roses sitting on the bar, each one bathed in a circle of light. Also on the bar were sweet messages written under each flower. I slowly gathered each of them up, feeling my heart flutter. At the end of the bar, in the last circle of light, was a piece of black fabric, with a note that said. “Put this blindfold on and wait for me”. I giggled a little, put my things down and tied the blindfold around my eyes. About 45 seconds passed, and then out of nowhere I heard the heavy footsteps of boots and felt Sir slip his hand into mine, intertwining our fingers. He kissed me softly on the lips and said “Trust me?” I nodded. He led me into the main space, taking small steps and leading me ever so slowly.

Still blindfolded, when we entered the space, he said, “You look beautiful, but you are wearing entirely too many clothes”. He gently started peeling away the layers – first my winter coat, then my top, then my skirt and underwear, leaving me wearing only my knee high boots. The air was chilly on my naked skin, and I felt very exposed, standing naked in a place where we had spent so much time working. After running his warm hands over my chilled skin, he led me further into the room and lifted me onto a platform. I was propped up against something and tied down. Finally he undid the blindfold. My eyes adjusted from the total darkness to the partial darkness of the room with lights hanging from the ceiling pointed right at me. I looked at Sir, in awe. I was up on a corner stage and was strung up on a St. Andrew’s Cross, which he had spent the day building. I was taken aback, both in shock of the work he’d put into preparing for the evening and of how special I felt. No one had ever gone to such lengths for me before.

After a deep kiss, an evil grin and a soft brush of his hand on my cheek, the blindfold went back on.

First, Sir lubed my ass up, the cold gel making me jump (as much as I could in the restraints) and inserted a butt plug. Then, nipple clamps were attached onto me, the discomfort growing and growing for about a minute before the sensation mellowed out into a pleasurable one. All the while, Sir was saying really raunchy things, and making my cunt drip with the thought that someone could walk in at that point and there was no way I could hide. He was getting into my head, giving my brain a very sexy massage. For the next little while, he used a combination of pain and pleasure to bring me to orgasm twice. My body was red and raw from the snaps of the crop all over my thighs, tits and belly. He used his fingers and a vibrator to fuck me, filling me up in both of my holes (my ass still holding onto that plug). After two orgasms, he told me that he was really going to pick up the pace and start hurting me more. He draped a heavy chain around my waist, stuffed a dildo into my cunt and held it there by tying rope to the chain and stringing it between my thighs. He stuffed my underwear into my mouth, softly gagging me. Still blindfolded, he put another rose in my hand and told me to drop it in lieu of using a safeword if I needed to. I nodded.

The beating I took was intense and difficult and absolutely pleasurable in the way pain can be for a masochist. At one point, the nipple clamps were getting in the way, so he removed them from my nipples, causing me to scream through the gag, and put them instead on my labia. There was nothing I could do but let myself fall into a mental state that some would call “subspace”…I just call it floating; where I’m still very much present, but my body and my mind feel unattached and the sensations feel like light.

When the beating was over, he quickly went to work on my clit with his mouth. I had an orgasm so intense that I shot the butt plug right out of me. He laughed, I was embarrassed. He told me that I was a bad girl for letting my ass expel the gift of the plug. I heard the sound of his heavy boots walking away from me. My breathing was heavy, my skin was glistening with beads of sweat. I had no idea what was coming, and then, out of the darkness and the silence, the sound of a chainsaw, or a metal grinder, or some piece of machinery that was incredibly loud and scary went off very close to my head (or so I thought). This was still very early on in our relationship and I had mentioned on numerous occasions that I find it really hot to be scared out of my wits. I screamed and started to cry, which, after everything I’d endured already that night, was very cathartic. Still, my fist clenched down on that rose stem and my arms and legs clenched against the bite of the rope that was keeping me still. It turned on and off, changing positions and confusing my aural perception for a few minutes before Sir walked up to me and kissed my cheek.

After what seemed like a lifetime, he took the underwear out of my mouth, the rose out of my hand, and undid my blindfold. As he brushed the hair out of my face, he looked at my slightly reddened and glassy eyes. He looked at me with so much love, and told me he was proud of me. I shook my head, and told him that I had no words. I felt incredible. I smiled softly as he undid the rope and carried me down to a comfy chair in the middle of the room. He cradled me in his lap and held me tight. After a few minutes of silence and just being close, he tipped my chin up, kissed me and said “Well? How was that?” I opened my mouth to speak, and big fat tears rolled out of my eyes instead. I told him I’d had the best night ever and that I felt so loved and so safe and that no one had ever gone to that kind of trouble for me. I felt ridiculous, crying so much after something so wonderful had happened, but he knew that I was simply overwhelmed and was very happy that the plan had been a success. He presented me with one last rose, and as I gathered them all together and we got ourselves presentable again, I felt our relationship change. It went from one of trying each other out to being real partners in crime :) It convinced me that this was my match. The man I wanted to give myself to fully. It was wonderful.
The night ended with dinner and us making love. An incredible night that I still remember vividly. A memory I will hold onto for the rest of my life. So much love.

<3 Ruby

A little excitement

Feeling a little proud.

A few of my answers were singled out in the Sex Survey that was given by my local alternative weekly! The results were published very recently, and though it was all anonymous, my answers were quite specific – I recognized them right away.

I feel wonderfully naughty.

<3 Ruby

Longing

Hello my lovelies,

Not too much to report these days as Sir has been away for a while. It can be difficult. He’s told me to masturbate freely and have as many orgasms as I’d like, as long as when I’m climaxing, I think about us in some capacity (whether it be me serving him or getting beaten or a fantasy that involves us). I’m also supposed to keep track, and I’ve been doing that for a while now. It is a small reminder of my submission, but one that I treasure. I have to say, however, it just isn’t the same as having a gorgeous cock stuffed into me or feeling the weight of another person on me or turning the sting of a crop or flogger into a wonderful erotic sensation.

Long story short, I miss him. And although it is entirely ridiculous, I wish we could be together this coming Sunday for Valentine’s Day. Sure, our idea of romance may not be exactly the same as that of the masses, but I do still retain some of my girlish fantasies of being spoiled or fawned over, just a little. I don’t need flowers or chocolate or presents of any kind. Just some time and attention, maybe a sweet, naughty letter and some hot sex.

Our first V-day together was epic. Watch for that story later in the week. It’s a good one. And probably the grandest gesture I’ve ever been presented with. :)

<3 Ruby

Sometimes, it’s just not gonna happen *shrug*

Sir came down over the weekend, mostly to congratulate me on a new contract I just got. It was a fabulous time, but started off on a strange note.

It’s usually fairly easy for me to orgasm. Especially with Sir, because over the past two years he’s become so used to my body and knowing what makes me tick. Of course, when he arrived at my place, after I’d taken his coat and boots off, he strapped me into my leather collar and restraints, and we ravaged each other. The thing was, halfway through our little fucking session, I realized that I was nowhere NEAR close to cumming. Sir wasn’t lacking in the trying department. He was going down on me, finger fucking me, using a little vibe on me, and still, nothing. I started to get frustrated and my mind started shutting down. Sir could tell I was far away, and asked what he could do. I snapped back and smiled, telling him just to use me for his own pleasure. Normally he’s very happy to do that, but I knew he was making an effort to make it all about me, and I could tell he was disappointed. In the end he shot a load on my face and it was fine. And we certainly made up for it (over and over again) throughout the weekend, but still.

I hate when that happens.

<3 Ruby

Longing to be used

I am so kicking myself right now. With a smile, but still…

Last night, Sir popped over quickly as he’d dropped his brother off in town and wanted to swing by for a quick blowjob before he left for the hospital again. He also brought the head box he’s building over to do a fitting. I took his cock in my mouth like a good little hungry slut, and savoured every squirt of jizz that he sprayed over my tongue.  It was heavenly. Afterward, he wanted some food before he hit the road again. We got in the car and went through a drive-thru, and as he was driving me back to the apartment, he asked if I wanted to come with him for the next day and a half. I wanted to jump right in and say yes, but I didn’t. I thought for a second, and then made the mature decision that he should probably spend time with his mom in the hospital and not just take me back to her house and play with me for the entire time. He seemed a little disappointed, but at the time I felt good for not taking advantage of his time.

And now I’m sitting home, horny and alone, and chatting with him at his mom’s house and wishing so much that I was there. It would just be Sir and me. I could be kept naked and collared, serving him, servicing him and feeling that wonderful tingle in my body that lets me know I’ve entered into an entirely different mindset. Supersub. :) The idea of his hands gently running over my skin, awakening the sensitive nerves all along my most sensitive areas; the thought of the biting sting of a quick, shallow slap or nails digging into my flesh; the heat and moisture building in my cunt as I anticipate his fingers or his tongue or his dick penetrating me…And toys! Using the flogger, or the paddle (my new favorite) on my ass and thighs until I beg him to stop in the most wanton, breathy voice I’ve ever heard come out of me. Yeah. Damn those mature decisions.

Goodness, I am all worked up! Sir bought me a new vibrator for my birthday, as I said, and I think I’ll have to use it. I don’t even need porn at this point. My imagination is running wild.