Part I

I walked down the hallway and nervously adjusted the short dress He'd instructed me to wear. It was His favorite, all black and low cut; its slinky texture clung to my breasts and ass like thin wet fabric. The sound of my strappy red stilettos was muffled against the ugly abstract patterns on the hotel carpet. The five inch heels accented my calves and elongated my already long legs in a way only uncomfortable but drop dead sexy footwear can. I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of one of the tacky Kinkade-esque prints hanging on the wall. He had told me how to fix my hair, how He wanted my makeup done, even what color polish to put on my nails and toes. Thankfully, my nervousness was hidden behind a painstakingly coiffed, submissive sex kitten visage.

I stopped in front of Room 454 and paused with my hand on the door for a few seconds trying to steady my breath and calm my heartbeat. The door was unlocked, as I had been told it would be. The metal handle turned slowly and I slipped inside the dark room and fumbled to close the security deadbolt. I was enveloped in silence and utter blackness. It had been a long time since I'd done this and I had managed to quell the ache until I just couldn't any longer. I wanted this.

With no warning my body was slammed into the door and my wrists were pinned above me. I cried out with surprise at the violent and sudden assault. My left cheek flattened against the hard surface, breasts, belly, hips and thighs pressed into submission on the cold metal door. I could feel His breath on my hair and the hardness of Him pushing into my bottom. He didn't say anything, just held me there and breathed heavy panting breaths that matched my own. I wanted to struggle but I was paralyzed with a combination of fear of this Man who was clearly in control of my entire body and the sexual furor that was happening in my mind. 

Finally the pressure on the length of my body lessened a bit as He gathered both of my wrists into one of His large hands and roughly groped me with the other. I had been ordered not to wear a bra or panties and He seemed to be checking for compliance. He gripped and squeezed my breasts through my dress like a savage, twisting my nipples causing quick bursts of pain. He tugged my hem up over my ass and forcibly parted my legs with His knee. He squeezed my ass cheeks hard as if testing for ripeness and then moved elsewhere. His fingers were brutal in their exploration of my pussy. He spread wide my slick lips and inserted a finger, then two, three, and finally four. I could only hope He was sufficiently pleased with the wetness He found there.

not this. that.

When he's being all sappy, sweet, tender, and loving but you want abrasive, aggressive, rough, and possessive.

When he's "I miss you, let's make love and then cuddle" and you want "come here you little slut, get on your knees and suck my throbbing cock."

When he wants to give you soft kisses, caresses, and deep longing looks and you want ass-reddening spanks, rope digging into your wrists, and hair pulling.

Yes. Its time for that again.

missing

Some reading of erotica, some interracial porn, some remembering past encounters...one masturbation method for each of the three orgasms I had tonight.

And just as I typed that I got an OkC message from a 22 year old kid asking if I'm looking for a sub. Not tonight kid, I'm in the mood to be Dominated instead. I miss that so fucking much.

The box in my closet just sits there, collecting dust and waiting...collar, leash, flogger, cuffs, spreader bar, blindfolds, binding equipment, etc...all the things needed to put me into that mental space where I can float away in a fog of pleasurable pain and submission. All the things except for the big strong man to use them.

You know that look I get. The pleading eyes, the tears that come when you've slapped my face just hard enough to give me that twinge of fear in my gut that stirs me like nothing else. The breathless "yes Sir", running mascara, and fire red hand-printed ass. Pussy dripping juices down my thighs and I will do anything to please you, anything to taste you, feel you inside me. I ache for the firm grip of hands holding wrists, gripping my throat, pulling my hair, cupping the back of my head as you invade my mouth with tongue or fuck my face until I gag. A powerful man who I trust on top of me, holding me down and spreading my legs.

Most times I can push these desires to the back of my head and distract myself with regular life things, or at least with yummy, albeit vanilla sex. But when that need to be Dominated pushes it's way to the forefront of my thoughts, I can hardly stand it. No outlet except my fantasies. Its almost suffocating.

If I ever find that again, I won't let it go.

xoxo,
Bella

collared

classic booty call and blogging boundaries

Or is it called a booty text these days?

"So, are you open this week? I could use some great dick sucking and hot sex."

That's one of the things I like about ol' Dave, he doesn't beat around the bush. Straight to the point that one. As it happened, I was open this week and accepted his booty text. It was an interesting encounter.

But first...Over the past week I've learned some things about Dave that I didn't know. He's quite "bi-friendly" (is that a legit term?) and jonesin' for a MFM and/or MFF threesome thang. We've had some colorful discussions about that over the past few days. I don't know that anything will come of it, or if I will even be involved, but it's quite fun to talk about for now. So there's that.

And then there was today. I've cried a couple of times during sex with him and I think it freaks him out a little bit, poor guy. It's not a bad crying, but rather an emotional release crying of the good sort that only happens when a Dominant partner is able to tap into that part of me that craves to be submissive and trusting and vulnerable. Today my emotional outburst was a result of anal. (I know this is a sex blog but sometimes I wonder if I get TMI on y'all.) He loves the booty and I rarely do the back door thing. I have no idea why I did it today except that he had me in that sub place with the combo of rough and gentle that works so well on me. He was great and gentle and patient and caring and I couldn't have assed (see what I did there? haha) for a better experience. However, he is, um, rather large so if I'm walking funny tomorrow there is a damn good reason.

Now we come to the part of the post where I hesitate. While this blog is anonymous and I feel like I try to be fastidious about the privacy of my partners, there are some things that give me pause and I wonder if I'm overstepping some invisible ethical boundary by sharing them here. Then I think, but this is MY blog dammit, I can write what I want. I wonder if I should use the guideline of...would I write about this if I knew my partner was going to be reading it? But then that brings me back to self-censoring, which I abhor. Something for me to think about I guess.

With that said, for now I'll skip a few details about the rest of my tryst and just say that it was great fun and ended with a very loud orgasm via vibrator by moi, and then Dave and I naked on the couch laughing hysterically at really bad porn. What a world huh?

Until next time.

xoxo,
Bella

mine's "Nebraska"

I think the "Keep Calm and do whatever" thing is way over done, but I actually like this one.

true story....also, hello again

The letter was waiting for me at the front desk. 

Bella,
Go directly to Room 105. Lay out all your toys, strip down, put on your thigh highs, your collar, put the spreader bar cuffs on your wrists and the purple cuffs on your ankles. Wait on the bed face down, looking away from the door.
Love,
Sir

Being the good girl that I am, I followed the orders explicitly. I waited for what seemed like a very long time but was probably only a few minutes. He entered the room. I didn't look at him.

What follows is fuzzy in my brain as I try to recall it a few months later. He blindfolded me, moved my body into a spreadeagled position on my back, and bound each wrist and ankle to anchor points on the the bed with rope. There was vicious fucking. He slapped my face, spanked my ass and tits, choked me, bent me to his will...all the things I crave.

Of course the session is never complete without the recovery period afterwards. Which is lovely and gentle and personal and sweet. Such a fine balance of aggression and subsequent care taking.

All of these feelings are things that I refuse to be without in my life, now that I've tasted them. I realize that patience is required to find the right person at the right time with the right set of qualities to embark on this sort of thing again. But I've got nothing but time y'all.

I have fallen to my knees unable to rise, what kind of trap is this? What kind of chains has tied my hands and feet? It is so strange, so wonderful this helplessness of mine

-- Rumi

  

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Bella's back bitches! Its been a while huh? Coming back to the blog now feels right. All the gory details aren't needed on what happened in my absence. Suffice it to say that Mr. Man and I put the breaks on the open marriage and took time to regroup. After much discussion, we decided that being open is something that we both want...and daresay, that I NEED in order to have some sort of outlet for at least a portion of my wanderlust and all that shit. Luckily, its not something I have to twist an arm to get since Mr. Man wants it too. So that works in my favor.

We have tentatively dipped our toes back into the scene and have connected with a local couple. Nothing more than texts, a lunch date between me and the wife, and dinner and drinks involving all four of us have occurred so far. But we like them and they us (I think). No one is rushing anything and as usual, much advance planning has to happen for anything sexy to go down. They have kids too and a real life outside of these extracurricular activities. They are a bit more "tame" than we are so that could be interesting. They only play together in the same room whereas Mr. Man and I are kind of like "hey, go do your thing, have fun and tell me about it later!"

All this to say, I'm not sure anything will happen with them and that's totally ok if it doesn't. Just knowing that the option and outlet is there for future play is enough for me, for now.

Damn, its good to be back.

xoxo,
Bella

brain turbulence

Life can feel so out of control. And that's when I crave to BE controlled the most. I'm fortunate to have found a partner who has been able and willing to give me some amazing submissive experiences lately, but real life logistics and events have precluded a very consistent outlet for this and will continue to do so. In the grand scheme of things, it's not important I suppose. But it is a strong want, dare I say a sexual need for me.

As alluded to, things have been crazy lately. I just returned from a much needed escape to visit Frances. It was lovely, as time with her always is. We did fun sexy things, and fun touristy things. She is an excellent hostess and I would have stayed another week if it had been possible.

I know I still haven't written about Mr. Man and my foray into a poly-esque relationship with new friends and I'm not sure how to go about that really, as it's been a roller-coaster of emotions and events. It has been a huge part of our lives these past few months and a continuous learning experience for all of us. I'd like to sort it all out in my head to relay some of it here. Soon, I hope.

Sometimes I truly feel like I'm falling apart. Today depression and panic hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks and I felt like I was losing my way. Which is much easier to do when you aren't sure what your "way" even is. I feel like I'm floating between lives yet not fully grounded in any. I fight against the often overwhelming urge to flee. So far I haven't, obviously, but I wonder if one day I will just snap and take off for Buenos Aires or at least across town.

Hey Bella, stop being such a fucking downer.

xoxo,
Bella

I crave this

Intensely. The craving increases with every experience I have in this realm, no matter to what degree. It entices me, draws me deeper into myself. I cannot properly explain it. It makes me lose my breath, become dizzy, frantic, panicked even. It is a part of me that I did not realize existed until a few years ago and has only magnified itself until I cannot, will not, live my life without it.

“I do not want to be the leader. I refuse to be the leader. I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness. I want a man lying over me, always over me. His will, his pleasure, his desire, his life, his work, his sexuality the touchstone, the command, my pivot. I don’t mind working, holding my ground intellectually, artistically; but as a woman, oh, God, as a woman I want to be dominated. I don’t mind being told to stand on my own feet, not to cling, be all that I am capable of doing, but I am going to be pursued, fucked, possessed by the will of a male at his time, his bidding.”
― Anaïs Nin