Giggles's blog: "stories"

"Peach."

Donna waited for a response. She felt fairly certain that she was
correct but under the circumstances she just couldn't be sure. The
delay, a few seconds that felt like minutes, increased her apprehension.
Was she right? What was going to happen?

She felt his tongue gently licking at her nipple. A sense of relief came
over her as a warm glow spread throughout her body. Her guess was right.
She smiled. Everything else faded out as she experienced the joy of
having her sensitive nipples pleasured. All that existed was the feeling
of his wet mouth and saliva soaked fingers sucking and pinching at her
taut nipples. She moaned. She wanted to speak, to tell him how good it
felt but she couldn't. Ten words. That was all she was allowed to say
during this session. Obedience was paramount. Donna gritted her teeth to
keep the words from escaping as the sound of her moans and labored
breathing filled the room. The buzz in her brain continued even after he
pulled away. He laid next to her, watching as she returned to reality.

As he pulled her lower lip down slightly with his finger, her mouth
automatically opened. He delicately slid the cold soft pulp between her
expectant lips. She swished it around in her mouth trying to discern its
identity. Could she guess what was in her mouth? That was the game. The
session was an exercise in sensory deprivation and accentuation.The
black silk scarf covering her eyes prevented her from seeing the morsel.
In addition, a set of heavy soundproof earmuffs deadened her sense of
hearing. Her ability to taste and smell was on trial. The reward or
penalty would occur in the realm of the greatly magnified sense of
touch. And Donna was wide open for touch, lying naked spread eagled on
the bed, wrists and ankles tied securely to the bedposts.

"Watermelon."

His mouth immediately went to her neck, an extremely sensitive and
tender area. Donna swooned as her Dom kissed, licked, nibbled, and
sucked, moving slowly back and forth from ear to ear. Her throat turned
ruby red, contrasting beautifully with the surrounding lily white skin.
Before finishing he pulled her hair lifting her head off the bed.
Leaning forward he bit into the back of her neck, producing a
simultaneous rush of sharp pain and intense pleasure. The ecstatic
recipient squealed joyfully as this most susceptible area of her body
was ravaged by his gnawing teeth. The effect was so strong that Donna
felt an orgasm coming on. But he sensed it too and withdrew leaving her
gasping on the edge of climax.

Next, a small capful of pure Vermont maple syrup was carefully poured
onto her waiting tongue. It was very sweet. At first Donna thought of
molasses but it didn't quite match. She moved her tongue back and forth
sloshing the syrup over her taste buds trying very hard to match the
taste with one stored in her memory. At last she came up with one.

"Butterscotch"

"AAAARRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!" Donna grimaced and gnashed her teeth as she felt
the block of ice sliding over her skin. It was all she could do to keep
her scream from turning into words. As he slid the ice over her chest
and stomach the helpless prisoner pulled strenuously at the ropes which
held her. Her nipples became rock hard as he scraped the frozen block
over them. Donna began to breath very heavily. Her skin was sensitive to
cold. And he knew it. And she knew that he knew it. For a moment she
thought of using the safeword but she resisted. It was important to her
to experience what her Dominant gave her. She decided to endure, no
matter what.

He felt her determination. The stakes were higher now. He glided the ice
effortlessly over her upper body until stopping it at her armpit. He
pressed it in firmly moving it back and forth over the small ultra
sensitive area. Donna's body involuntarily jerked upward as the ropes
were again stressed to the max. Strange moans, tainted with urgent
pleading tones, escaped from her lips. Her teeth began to chatter.

To lessen the tension he moved the ice to her lower body, running the
shrinking block up and down her legs in rapid strokes. The intensity was
reduced yet Donna began to quiver. Not only was the ice affecting her
but she was terrified that he would ice her feet. She thought it was the
one area she could not tolerate the cold on. She was greatly relieved
when he pushed the block back up her legs without touching her feet. But
the relief was shortlived. The ice, which was now reduced to the size of
a cube, was pressed against her clit. Donna groaned as she felt her
swollen clit shrink in size. Finally, he stuck the remaining piece of
ice deep into her pussy where her heat quickly melted it.

The bondaged submissive took a deep breath. She had survived. Although
the ice was torturous for her she felt a distinct sense of exhilaration
as she waited for the next sample.

A large piece of fruit was pushed forcefully into her mouth. As Donna
bit into it her taste buds exploded with a ferocious reaction forcing
her to shake her head vigorously side to side. There was no doubt as to
the identity of the extremely sour fruit.

"LEMON!!!!!!"

Holding the bottle up high over the bed, her Master let the warm
fragrant oil fall on her body like rain from above. From shoulders to
feet the sandalwood scented liquid dripped onto her, flowing freely down
her sides. When a sufficient amount had fallen he moved the lubricant in
gentle circles around her skin being sure to cover every spot. He then
began a fingertip massage. The pressure was so light at times that Donna
barely felt the contact. The warmth of the oil contrasted magnificently
with the lingering effects of the recently applied ice. Gradually he
increased the pressure expertly massaging her body in the way that she
loved. Donna cooed softly as his hands stroked and kneaded her flesh.
Beneath the blindfold she shed several hidden tears of joy and
appreciation. After rubbing down her entire body he stopped to prepare
the next taste.

Squeezing his cock he pressed upward on the shaft releasing a large drop
of precum. Carefully placing it on his finger, he rubbed it on Donna's
waiting lips. Slurping it in with her tongue, she smiled as she gave her
answer;

"Master's cum."

The Dom moved into position straddling his legs above his prostrate
submissive. Leaning forward the tip of his erection touched Donna's
lips. As she opened them he gradually slid his swollen cock in.
Rhythmically rocking his hips back and forth he slowly and gently fucked
her eager mouth. Her succulent lips pulled with a forceful draw on his
backstrokes. Before withdrawing he drove his hard on deep into her
throat burying his cock to the hilt. He held it there momentarily until
he felt her gag reflex. He then pulled out fully.

As he was climbing off of her, Donna unexpectedly spoke;

"Cock."

He didn't quite know what to do with this response. But as he thought
about it, he saw that she was right. He started to laugh. She felt his
laughter through the vibrations in the mattress. She started to giggle
too. He looked at the plate on the table. He removed the small bottle of
Tabasco sauce and put it aside. It would not be used in this session.
"Cock" was number six. And as she was correct he had to come up with
appropriate stimulation for her.

The riding crop had always been one of his favorite implements. It's
flexibility made it easy to use in a rapid fire motion. He now applied
it between Donna's widely spread legs. Slowly and gently at first, he
tapped the black leather tip of the crop on his sub's exposed clit.
Progressively he increased the speed and hardness of the taps,
eventually reaching a steady rhythm where the crop was beating on her
pussy several times per second.

As the pounding continued Donna reached a state of tremendous arousal.
Her partner watched for the telltale signs of her approaching climax. As
her hands began to shake he tossed the crop aside. Leaning down, he put
his lips on her clitoris, sucking the throbbing membrane into his mouth.
As his tongue caressed and swirled over her clit, Donna was launched
into a bodywrenching orgasm. She screamed as she again strained the
ropes. Her vagina convulsed sending out several streams of heated juices
which wet her lover's face and hair. He waited until her body was still
before removing his mouth. He laid across her body for a few moments
giving them both a chance to recover.

The next item selected from the plate was a piece of cherimoya, a fruit
chosen purposefully for it's obscurity. Dry, pulpy, and virtually
tasteless, there was little chance that a correct answer would be given.
And that was the intent. Her answer was spoken with great uncertainty.

"Potato?"

Starting at the base of her neck, he lightly drew the tip of the Buck
knife down the center of her chest to her pubic hairs. Donna held her
breath for a moment adjusting herself to what was happening. Although
she enjoyed knifeplay, there was always a level of fear that crept over
her as she felt the sharp blade touching her skin. Never had they played
like this before with her being restrained and blindfolded. Her heart
began to beat faster and small beads of perspiration appeared on her
forehead. He touched her all over her body making her experience the
razorlike sharpness of the hardened steel. She gasped loudly as he
gently scraped the edge over her clit. Moving up he stabbed at her
nipples with slight thrusts of the pointed tip of the blade. Donna felt
a heated sensation. She was certain that she was cut, but she was not.
For a finale he moved the knife to her neck. Donna laid perfectly still
as he drew the blade back and forth in horizontal lines across her
throat. This produced a delicious fear inside the helpless girl. For
although terrified she adored what he was doing. She felt grateful for
having a Dominant who understood her needs so well.

He looked at the plate. The three items left were relatively easy to
guess. He had planned it that way. He wanted to be loving to her at the
end. Therefore he was shocked when after sliding the chunk of strawberry
between her lips, he heard;

"Cherry."

Her favorite fruit! How could she not recognize her favorite fruit? He
was stunned for a moment as her error forced him to change his plans. He
thought of a suitable torture for her.

Going to the end of the bed, he reached out and grabbed her left foot
holding it still in a viselike grip. Leaning over he began to lick her
toes. The ticklish woman began to laugh uncontrollably. Without mercy he
sucked on each digit taking it into his mouth where he nibbled and
chewed the length of it. He ran his tongue all along the bottom of her
foot increasing her frenzy. As he moved to her right foot he stepped up
the process. He stopped licking and started biting. Hard. Donna began to
scream and flail about in her limited capacity to do so. But he held her
foot tightly in place. He bit very hard into the ball of her foot. Donna
lost what little control she had left:

"FUCK YOU, YOU BASTARD!"

It was hard to know which one of them was more surprised by her
screaming obscenities at him. She had disobeyed, breaking the rules of
the session as he had laid them out. She was not suppossed to speak
unless it was time to guess. As he finished with her feet, they both
knew that repurcussions were coming.

"Banana."

Donna's voice was a bare whisper as she announced the name of the easily
discernable fruit. But it made no difference that she was right. Her
outburst had caused her to forfeit any chances of a pleasurable reward.
She was resigned to the fact that a punishment was coming. But she also
knew that sometimes his punishments were mind numbing trips to nirvana.
She waited to see what was in store for her.

He slid the long and wide cucumber into her pussy. It took a bit of
effort as the walls of her vagina were stretched to the max. When it was
fully inserted he left it there. Donna adjusted to having the large
vegetable inside her. The cold skin of the cuke was quickly warmed by
the heat of her body.

From his cabinet he took out his favorite implement, the rope flogger.
It was composed of 50 strands of black and white dyed rope When applied
properly it carried a ferocious yet tolerable wallop. It was a "thudder"
rather than a "stinger". The impact was felt deep in the body rather
than at the surface of the skin. Although it could cause bruising, it
did not leave welts or cuts.

He started the whipping at her feet. He wound up with the flogger
pulling it from far back before swinging it forward to land on her
defenseless body. Over and over he pounded it with all his strength onto
her vulnerable skin, moving his aimpoint slowly up her body. As he
reached her breasts he made a special effort to strike even harder. She
felt the blood rushing to the surface of her tender breasts warming them
in a way that she found very stimulating despite the bruising impact.
Her boobs, and indeed her entire body, turned a shade of pink. Only when
he reached her neck did he pause to take a short break. His body was
soaked with sweat from the enormous energy he had expended flogging her
over a hundred times. He needed to catch his breath before the finish.

Up to this point all the flogs had been across her body. He now
positioned himself so that he might connect parallel to her pussy. The
first shot made her gasp. Without any hesitation he commenced to
pounding the rope onto her clit over and over. The vibrations spread
deep inside her causing the walls of her pussy to contract and expand
around the mammoth cucumber that was still lodged inside her. The
stimulation was so great that Donna felt the waves of several powerful
orgasms wracking her body. Only when she became completely still did he
stop the pounding.

While she was recovering quietly he picked up a very thin light wooden
paddle. He applied two vicious swats, one to each nipple. A white heat
shot through her body like an electrical current to her brain. The
sudden sharp pain brought Donna back to life for the tenth and final
taste.

It was fortunate that only one item was left on the tray as they were
both near exhaustion. The Dom wiped a cool damp cloth across her body
soothing her heated skin. He then raised a small plastic bottle to her
lips squirting a small dose of liquid on them. Donna licked her lips and
immediately recognized the taste.

"Honey."

He squirted more into her mouth. As her tongue came out to intercept the
flow, the sweet syrup flowed down her chin and neck. Still he continued
to squeeze the bottle. She closed her mouth momentarily then spurted
out;

"Honey, honey......HONEY!"

She felt him laughing again as he continued to squirt the honey into her
face. The golden syrup flowed onto her red hair. He moved his aim
downward covering her chest with the thick sticky fluid. Only when the
flow stopped did he toss the bottle aside. Reaching again for the knife
he cut the ropes which held her hands. He then pulled out the cucumber
and easily inserted his cock into the greatly expanded opening. As he
began to thrust he leaned down to kiss her. The two lovers shared the
sweet taste of honey.

I can't be a slave; a very small voice whispered in the dark But you already are; the voice answered itself in the recesses of her mind.

To be my Master's slave means I have given Him all of me. It means I have given Him my heart and I get to watch Him care for it with the utmost care. It means I have given Him my mind and I get to watch it become more nimble under His tutelage. It means I have given Him my soul and I get to watch it dance free within the circle of His arms. It means I have given Him my body and I get to feel it respond to His expert touch.

To be my Master's slave means I deny Him nothing. If He asks for something, I get it. If He demands something, I get it twice as fast. If He wishes for something, I get it four times as fast.

To be my Master's slave means I get to fly higher than I ever have before.
I get to give more than I ever have before. I get to receive more than I ever have before. I get to feel more than I ever have before.

To be my Master's slave means more to me than most anything ever has before.

One simple word, yet filled with
complexity. One may ask themselves several questions. Is it physical,
emotional or the blend of both causing an intellectual fear? Or perhaps
it is just the unknown. There are so many factors and fixtures ~ the
simple little word ~ becomes a mesh of complexity and undefinable
objections.

As a child fears the darkness ~ a
submissive fears the empty void a Master may create. Being left on her
own to remember His teachings and guiding ways ~ though she has been
trained well, the solitude is creates a void. Within this void the
manifestation of fear begins.

She begins to doubt herself, her abilities, perhaps even her worth.

She continues to struggle to remain focused. She fights with the

inner conflicts raging within herself. So desperately trying to please,
and obey, yet consumed with fear. The loneliness grows ~ the darkness
seems cold and empty ~ there is a deafening silence that rings in her
ears.

She guards what is left of the soul
she possesses. For it is the last of what she calls her own. The walls
are thick, high, and strong, harboring her emotions. The fear of
displaying her weaknesses, the fear of appearing vulnerable, the fear
of becoming dependent, the fear of solitude.

One may drown themselves in work and
family life in order to displace fear. But at the end of the day, when
all the world is quiet and her head rests upon her pillow, she listens
to her beating heart, the silence is again deafening as she replays the
day's events, tears stream silently down her face. She is happy that no
one sees them ~ For it is her fear of appearing less than perfect. She
is raw, vulnerable ~

she is alone.

As she lays staring into the
darkness, she has come to realize just what the fear is. It is not the
physical pain of external forces, but the internal struggle for
contentment. She tries to shake off the insecurities, the doubt and the
questioning ~ she tries to focus in on all that she has been taught ~
yet she lies alone... in fear.

She grows angry at herself for being
weak. This is a side of herself that even she dislikes. She has always
been the strong one. The leader, the fixer, the tower of unwavering
strength and compassion. As the night goes on, the mirror reflection of
who she really is becomes clearer. She is saddened as she faces her
biggest of all fears

~ herself!

Fear

Strength is knowing when to say....I cannot follow this path any longer.

Strength is standing firm by your values,

  even when they are challenged.

Strength is what is not seen.

  It is a firm stance centered in your own personal belief.

Strength is being able to cry, when the all around you are smiling.

Strength is knowing who you are....and loving yourself anyway.

Strength is following your mind,

  when your heart chooses a different direction.

Strength is doing what is right for you,

  though it may not be right for everyone.

Strength is being able to step back and examine,

  when your body and soul tell you to press forward.

Strength is being able to say no, when you know something isnt right.

Strength is looking yourself in the mirror, and liking what you see.

Strength is caring enough about your mate,

  to say no to what you crave,

    because you love him.

Strength is saying yes to your mate, because you know she craves it,

  though you dont exactly understand.

Strength does NOT mean being stronger physically.

Strength does NOT mean controlling.

Strength does NOT mean coercing.

Strength means being flexible enough to say, "I am wrong"

Strength means caring enough to say, "I made a mistake, I apologize".

Strength is seen in the eyes, felt in the heart, and heard in the tone.

Submission is...

* being the best me I can be...
* ensuring everything I do is dedicated to Him...
* learning to dedicate my whole life to another...
* learning to accept my faults and striving to improve them...
* finding another's perfection inside their imperfections...
* finding blissful equality through inequality...
* finding release through bondage and peace through pain...
* sinking joyfully into selfless service...
* obeying without question...
* being eager to put another's wants and desires before my own...
* letting go of my will and loving every second of it...
* lovingly accepting the force of His desires...
* knowing He controls the very breath in my body and never wanting to change that.

       Lonely hearts, they don't cry
They moan in silence, they want to die.
Lonely hearts, they have no fear
And strength to dropp a single tear

Lonely hearts, they're cold inside
They have a dreadful pain to hide,
Lonely hearts, they're wrapped by grief
No joy, no prayers, no relief

Lonely hearts, they stop to beat
When hope is weak and starts to split.
Lonely hearts, forgotten dreams...
They fade away with stifled screams

As a lonely girl,
I only want one thing
All I want,
Is to be seen

As a lonely girl,
I have not been many places
In my lonely life,
I have seen very few faces

As a lonely girl,
No one notices me
They just pass me by,
As if there is no one there to see

As a lonely girl,
I have changed my mind
Now what I want,
Is to end my own life

As a lonely girl,
The only one could change my lonely mind
Is someone I could trust,
Someone who is warm and kind

As a lonely girl,
I want someone to hold
Some who will love me,
And be there without being told

As a lonely girl,
This was all I wanted…

As a lonely girl,
I was disappointed…

You... don't... want me...

       I am a lonely person
I have many people around me
But the feeling of loneliness
Its deeply seated in me

The birds are chirping
I can hear the voices
My kids are chatting around
But I feel lonely, I am a lonely
person.

To subside the feeling
I mingle with my kids
Playing with them for a while
Making them laugh.

Then again I feel lonely
Its my inner feeling
I am a lonely person
like a lonely tree in the desert.
I am a lonely person!

Missing Mama

I awake each morning to start a new day
But the pain of loosing you never goes away.
I go about the things I have to do
And as the hours pass I think again of you.
I want to call you and just hear your voice
Then I remember that I have no choice
For you are not there and now my heart cries
Just to see you again to tell you goodbye
To say Mama I love you and I always will
And hope that much of you, in me you've instilled.
The day that you left I just didn't know
That you were going where I couldn't go.
And now all my memories of you are so dear
But gosh, how I miss you and wish you were here.
Who now can hear me when I need to cry?
It so hard to tell you "Mama goodbye."
Someday I know all will be well
And I'll see you again with stories to tell
Of how you were missed and how we have grown
And how good it is to finally be home.
Until then my memories of you I'll keep near
And I'll pass them on to those who are dear.
I miss you Mama.

What therefore is the purpose of the heart you ask

To beat, to breath, to exist is not its only task.

It holds within it small and living cells

A place where what we are, ultimatelly dwells

It swells with pride and happiness and cheer

It shudders with doubt and shame and sometimes fear

Hidden behind skin, flesh and bone

A heart is something we all say we own

What therefore is the purpose of the heart you ask

To beat, to breath, to exist is not its only task

Even though it sustains human life

It does not always stop the owner from causing strife

When speaking of the heart, these words and more

Soft, gentle, happy are words that we always hope for

Heart is to stop the brain from becoming to ridged

Heart is to stop the hopeless from becoming to frigid

What therefore is the purpose of the heart you ask

To beat, to breath, to exist is not its only task

To bloom like a flower and awake from its cover

As it lay exposed in the hands of a lover

To take in its place, one given in return

A heart to receive, treasure and then to learn

The purpose of my heart, was for us to meet

To exchange with you so each heart may be complete.