topthemonkey

Recently we were at our local dungeon and the Top expressed an interest in using the fucking machine, which looks like this. We hadn't played at all yet that night. Neither of us had ever seen the fucking machine used before. Depending on who is there, you either use your own dildo or put a condom over one of theirs. The Top and I looked at the very limited supply of vac-u-lock dildos. There were more, but nobody there knew precisely where they were kept. It didn't really matter though, because there was this lovely dildo and we purchased that. The Top wanted to use it immediately.

We went to the medical room, the Top got the fucking machine and set it up on the bed. There was a young man sitting across from us and watching us set up, which made me slightly uncomfortable but I didn't want to say anything. The Top ordered me to strip and position myself on my back. I put down a sheet first. I had gotten some water-based lube from one of the safer sex stations, as we had not brought any of our own, and the Top put some of it on my vagina.

Then he basically shoved the dildo inside me with the fucking machine on a very low setting. I gasped, as this was a bit sudden. I told him that it would have been helpful if he had warmed me up a bit first, so he took the dildo out and started to finger fuck me. It was very uncomfortable: he had not trimmed his nails recently, they were pretty long; he wasn't wearing a glove; he wasn't easing me into it at all (which sometimes is fine, but this time it wasn't). It just felt very cold, but not in that hot, I'm going to use you kind of way. So that pretty much just sucked. He stopped and inserted the dildo again, and started the machine on a low setting.

It was really nice. I'm not 100% sure of the order of events, so perhaps the Top can chime in here. I do recall the following things happened: he rubbed my clit a lot; at some point he sucked on my clit; people came in and out of the room; some people stopped and watched; he knelt by my head, fucked my mouth in a way that really hurt my jaw, and jerked off on my chest; and I rubbed my own clit.

At some point he turned the machine up and it was even better. He gave me the control so I could try different settings myself. I had to ask him at least once to add more lube. One time he dripped some water on the area to reactivate the water-based lube, but it was so much water that it soaked the sheet beneath me and was really uncomfortable. At a certain point I told him I wanted to try to orgasm without clitoral stimulation. This MIGHT have worked but there was an electrical burning smell (which turned out to be from the people using the TES unit nearby) and the Top wanted to stop, so we did.

I just sort of laid there for several minutes after, drinking water, breathing deeply, trying to collect myself. When I felt more stable I stumbled naked to the bathroom with my underwear and cleaned up. The Top's cum had dripped into my hair and dried there and the smell was really bothering me so I used the sink to wash my hair. I was really worn out emotionally and physically so we spent the rest of the night in the social area, just sitting on the couches and chatting. I was honestly ready to leave after I finished cleaning myself up, but the Top wanted to stay and help clean up the dungeon after play, which we ended up doing.

The whole thing was very intense and made me feel really vulnerable. Several times I was on the verge of tears, but not because of sadness or happiness. The Top has difficulty understanding this, but from conversations with others I don't think it's so unusual.

The Top really wanted me to have a clitoral orgasm and was disappointed that I didn't. I had several g-spot orgasms, which I almost NEVER have, and I'm sure I would have ejaculated a lot if I had pulled the dildo out at the right time, but I decided against that. I'm not sorry I didn't have any clitoral orgasms, because I loved it and it's not like I can never use the thing again.

Unfortunate outcome: the seal around the base of the dildo took such a beating it's starting to come apart. Not sure if this matters.


THINGS I WOULD DO DIFFERENTLY NEXT TIME:
-Get straws for the water bottles.
-Put the water bottles on the floor next to the bed, not on the mattress.
-Put down more than one sheet.
-Have a blindfold and earplugs handy, though I don't think I'd want to use both of them the entire time.
-Bring rope so I can be tied down at least somewhat and have something to grab onto.
-Ask the Top to use gloves the whole time.
-Foreplay.

This is what I just sent to the owner of sub-shop.com

Autumn,

I just received my most recent order from sub-shop.com, after waiting on a few backordered pieces. It wasn't worth the wait.

I realize most of the things I bought are sale items, at a close-out rate (and probably discontinued from here on out), but I have several things I picked up from you a few years ago, and the quality of items sold is just not what it used to be.

The plastic ballgag trainer you sold: I can tell why it's on sale. But what your site doesn't do is allow customers to provide feedback, or make notes about comfort of one item over another (more expensive one). I've since modified it to remove the plastic ball, and I'll probably be putting my own ball or bit in.

Your current "web of desire" training collar is made of a fairly rough material, and the work is pretty shoddy. The material's misaligned, not cut straight, the thread colors aren't even a close match. The material's also much rougher and less wearable. While no photo exists that can let you "feel" the materials, I'll probably go through in my blog and do a side-by-side photo comparison of other aspects later.

Looking at a model from a few years ago, when it was available only in black, made by a company called "Bondo", they were much better. (Do you have contact info for them? I'd like to get more from them.)

I notice the same thing in my cuffs. The first cuffs I ever bought from you in mid-2000 were comfortable and saddle-soft, although I've since had some parts replaced. Subsequent ones were rougher and not as wearable (and I'd since contacted you about it.)

I realize you've had to grow quite a bit, as BDSM got more popular. I also realize there's margin decisions being made here, and the economy is hard.

Anyway, while I'll be picking up the occasional sale, I don't think I'll be recommending sub-shop anymore, to anyone.

-Me

Knee High Ballet leather fetish boots $275.95

Over the Knee Ballet patent fetish boot $289.95

Over the Knee Pony boots (vinyl) 259,90 EUR ($335.790 w/ current exchange rate)

Knee High Pony boots (leather) 249,90 EUR ($322.87  w/ current exchange rate)

Knee High Fetish Boots (patent) $203.95

Knee High Fetish Boots (leather) $235.95

The Top and I went shopping last weekend. Many purchases were made by the most significant was a new collar.
Titanium so it's super light, curved to sit over my collarbone, it fits perfectly.
The store we went to didn't have rings for it in stock but the Top is going to order one so I can be "jingly".

The second-most significant purchases were two gorgeous overbust (but no straps) corsets.One is black with a cherry blossom pattern and the other is lavender with black lapels.

I hope to have pictures of all these items on my person forthcoming.

I've been feeling much more attached to the Top since the new collar. It's permanent, metal, around my neck . . . and it has a really noticeable psychological effect.

I friend of mine recently posted in her own journal about being "tired of BDSM relationships that border on abuse".

For whatever reason, this morning, I was thinking a lot about this statement. I haven't been able to reach her to get her to confirm/deny if we were a relationship she was talking about, but...

Yes, admittedly, there are times where The Monkey has to endure pain as a result of her performance (or lack thereof).
While a more domly-dom-mc-dom-dom (Excuse me, sir, but it's "Domly Dom McDomdom") might say it's for (say)...not swallowing after sex, or failure to orgasm on command, the Monkey's currently being trained on doing things like cleaning up our room, or not to take missteps as major failures, or not to hurt herself or get down on herself. (Letting her get down on others...is a special treat for both of us, but I digress).

So, still being critical, how could this be interpreted as abusive?

Forcing her to dress in clothes I like (and buy?)...I suppose this is more "confining" than restrictive.

Forcing her to shave her body hair? Interesting point, but at the current time, she does it voluntarily, "because it makes me feel more submissive to you". (Well, yes, but I do it pretty much when I feel guilty for messing up.)

Not allowing her to orgasm? In general, if she asks, she may have it. Unless I'm planning something. Usually, when she gets it and I'm not around, she's ordered into her gear, and has to go lay in her cage to get herself off.

Removing her right to have things like pride and modesty? When lifestyle events are happening around the house, having her strip to her skivvies (or further?)...

I mean, yes, there are a few "standing threats"...things that may happen to her that she's afraid of. She may lose some of her hair if she loses control of herself again, to the point of attempting to hurt me. And yes, I'm displeased every time I come home and after a day of relaxing, find the bed unmade, or sex toys still out in the bathroom after use (instead of being washed and away), but she doesn't get beaten all the time (this phrasing isn't doing you any favors, sir)-- this is something we need to work on, slowly.

So then, in the just-woke-up hours of the morning: I pondered telling her: try it before you criticize it. I don't think that's fair. So what if it's not something she's comfortable trying? I don't think that impairs her ability to analyze it. But from the accusation, I wondered. Would it be possible to take on a submissive, with none of the above? No pain? No Embarassment?
No fear?

Yes. Yes it would. And it's more than possible. It's what I strive for, every day. So does he mean that it's possible with a perfectly trained submissive? The monkey is not my prisoner, she can leave any time she likes. Well, yes, but there are consequences. Another slave in our house is not allowed to say no to sex, and while the monkey cannot herself stand that enforcement, it's not forced on her. Everything that's given to her, she wants, or I believe she at least wants the results of. I agree. Beyond all of which, she wants to please me. She wants to serve me. Does she need to serve me, in order for me to love her? No. I don't love her any less when she falters. But my place is to train her. And the methods we have are what we accept.

She's allowed to comment here, of course, and will make any additional thoughts known.

This entry doesn't quite feel done, but will be continued in another post.

The monkey's comments are in italics.

After dinner, the monkey tried on a new blindfold I had gotten him, and it just looked stunning along with the rest of his outfit. I had him look around the interior of the car for a roll of duct tape that's usually around there, but we couldn't find it, so I just had him sit quietly, as I drove, speaking in a slight drawl, roleplaying only slightly that I'd just picked him up, hitchhiking, trying to set a scene. (This all felt a bit cheesy until I was slapped across the face for talking back. Not being able to see it coming definitely made it more shocking, and I took it more seriously after that).

I let him know that I had a (sexual) purpose for him, and that if he cooperated, he might just get out of this alive.

We drove for a while. The monkey was expecting me to head home. I headed...somewhere else. When I screeched to a stop, had the monkey take off her seatbelt, and pulled her out of the van (blindfold still on) (causing me to sadly kick my leftover pasta out of the car, which I was informed of later), and threw her down, violently, to the wet grass, laying on her back, maybe then she realized we weren't at home.

Maybe it was the few moments of contemplation I gave her.

Maybe it was the sound of the parkway, nearby, cars happily whizzing by at 60 or more. (This definitely scared me. That was when I really knew something was going to happen.)

Either way, I pulled her miniskirt up, and began to poke, prod, and play. She began to object, (I don't remember objecting!) and I told her: "Another word, and I've got a rock here that I can put to your skull. You'll get me off whether you're conscious or not." (I remember THAT part though. Apparently he actually was holding a rock, I learned later.)

And then I got right down to it: I pulled her underwear aside, and I [consensually! Read that LJ admins!] raped her. I finished, and told her to get back in the fucking car. (Which I had some trouble doing, as I was still blindfolded and very much out of sorts.)

We drove to a nearby computer, where I managed to print out the coupon for those cuffs I had intended to buy earlier that evening.

Throughout the night, my pet seemed slightly dazed (very appropriate word for how I felt then), as though the whole experience had been surreal (not surreal per se, but this sort of thing has never happened to me before. I wouldn't call it subspace, but I was feeling deeply submissive and just very- I guess "small" is the best word I can think of to describe it). I was, at several points, legitimately concerned that I had played "too hard too soon", but the monkey expressed that she had in fact enjoyed it, and wanted to do more of this.

We proceeded back to the adult shop to pick up the cuffs (which I am sure we will photograph and put up in a future post) and the sales kid seemed to be doing a lot of paperwork with our purchase. As it turns out, although the price we were quoted was $79, the *scanned* price was $160, so in order to cover his own ass, the kid had to like, photocopy the price tag, etc etc. Total price was around $62.

The cuffs are gorgeous, but have a few flaws to them I don't like: they're fur-lined, which is difficult to clean, sheds, and can chafe a bit MORE than straight well-made leather. Also, apparently, one of the buckles was put on backwards, which makes one of the cuffs a serious pain in the ass to get off. (I've got plans to have the rivet popped and the buckle put right, shouldn't cost more than a few dollars).

Note: Yes, I am still gender-switching with pronouns describing the monkey. Sometimes I refer to my monkey as "he", sometimes as "she". I realize this is frustrating to read, so I'm trying to at least keep paragraphs consistent. I am writing from the first person, so there shouldn't be much confusion, and there are only two people in our play sessions, the monkey and myself, and with regard to anyone else, I will refer to them by name or initial. Nuff said!

On a side note, if anyone wants to invest in a really nice spanking bench for not a lot of money, I highly recommend this:

The monkey pointed out last night, after a night of fairly intense play, that I need to update this more.

After which a) I suggested that I bitch-slap the monkey for his impudence, b) the monkey mentioned his dislike of the word, as well as the fact that slaps are only for true punishment and c) I discovered that he has a magazine, titled "Bitch" that I could roll up and wail on his behind ad infinitum, thus rendering a completely politically and contextually correct bitch slap with no vocabulatorical worry; I realized the monkey was right. I do need to update more. So I am. Here you go, you stylish readers.

Some might find it odd that in my panic room, along with the recently added eye bolts in the floor, in the ceiling, and such, I've now assembled a large petco-variety dog cage. Some might also find it odd that for The Monkey, this is a safe place to go, a relaxing place where she is free to be a sub with no responsibilities other than to just be a sub in a cage. I regret that I haven't had enough time to properly cage the monkey as much as either of us would have liked. The reason for this may be detailed in another post, but it relates to another person in the house.

There is one other problem worth mentioning in this equation: The last time the monkey came to me, he left his toys at home. Given, the monkey only *thought* he was coming out to a medical appointment with me. Which means as much as I might have wanted to see him properly ball-gagged, butt-plugged, or strapped-on...it hasn't been happening (my vehicle is currently in the shop, and monkeys cannot drive).

But this entry is mainly to think about the events of last night. After reading in a friend's journal the benefits of Fisting, and knowing the monkey has expressed an interest, I decided this might be the evening for it. As I've never attempted such a feat with anyone else (although I can think of two other girls who might have enjoyed or had the capability for it), I decided to do at least a little research and found This Howto.

The evening started easily enough. I had the monkey strip to his underwear, and put his packing dildo in, which (okay, I admit it) really turns me on, and locked him in my favorite set of red cuffs, and then, over his ankle socks, I snapped a standard set of police leg irons. A blindfold completed the gear, for the moment.

I ordered the monkey to stand on the bed, palms against the wall, leaning as far down as possible, and took out the crop. I started very lightly, taking to her with controlled sets of three strokes, all over the body, stopping in between to hold her, making sure everything was okay. At some point, I loosely buckled *my* ball-gag onto her, which is normally too large for her to take due to TMJ/TMD. After six such sets, I switched over to the lucite rod, and again, started lightly, but built in the same controlled sets. After each set, the monkey was allowed to ask if she could move, and often did, curling up against me, cringing from the pain until ordered into position again.

The last set, she was very, very unsure of, feeling scattered and on edge, but I kept insisting, telling her that she needed to trust me. She took position and I delivered three very light taps. As she laid down on the bed, she told me "That was pathetic". I invited her to go for another round, but she didn't seem interested and her mood seemed a little bit broken, so I turned out the lights, and we cuddled for a bit, her head on my chest, and all her gear still locked on.

About 20 minutes later (I am guessing), I ordered the monkey to get me a set of gloves (recent hospital discharges rock for free medical gear), and after she had gotten into position on her back...

[at this point, gentle reader, I must take pause to remark on why I don't put nearly as much time into writing these entries as I could be...but the past few hours (today, the day after the events in this entry) have been very nice, and will likely be another entry entirely]

...and after he had gotten into position on his back, I greased up my right hand glove with Astroglide, and inserted four fingers of my hand into him (he was already quite wet), pressing firmly, pausing, massaging what I could reach on the inside (more fingers tends to limit the mobility one has less than if one has, say, a single finger), and massaging the clit on the outside. It took about twenty minutes.

At the apex, my hand was mostly curled into a fist, pulsing and flexing gently and all the knuckles of my fingers were inside her. My thumb was in up to the point where the trapezium meets metacarpal I (just to the last knuckle where the thumb meets the hand). I feel I was pressing too intensely, but she claims the pain was only minor. Afterwards, I removed my hand as slowly and as gently as I could. I have every intention of being inside her to the wrist, now. It's only a matter of time.

After I withdrew, I tried to taste her to go down on her, but the astroglide just tasted god-awful, and hey, not having to do things you don't want to is a privilege of those on the looped end of the leash.

He curled up against me, again, and began masturbating. I held him tight, talked him off, told him all the fantasies I had for him, wearing a welded steel collar and cuffs, everywhere. Being marked. Being owned. Being beaten not because he had done something wrong, but simply because I could. Being chained up to sleep. Being fitted with a zone collar. All the things that make him feel warm and fuzzy inside. He approached orgasm, and asked me, softly: "May I, Sir?" To which I assented, and he came, shivering against me.

Of course, after that, as she was satisfied, I had her go down on me, which was also quite nice. She swallowed most of it, and afterwards, being both tired, and post-orgasmically-snarky, we decided we were both hungry, so I removed her leg-irons and we went downtairs and pigged out on ice cream. We came back up and curled up next to each other to sleep, her head on my shoulder, purring softly.

This morning, I was given the highest of compliments: "Last night was really nice."