I lean against the pillows, pushing my head deeper into them as I arch my hips high enough to place the wedge under my naked ass cheeks. I spread my legs wide. I love the way the coolness of the air contrasts against the heat of my cunt. My nipples harden as thoughts of you ravishing me fills my brain. I let the fantasy in my head play out slowly, dripping down over me, penetrating every iota of my being, saturating me. Your hand on my breast, my hand on my breast. Your fingers spread my swollen pussy lips…my fingers do the same. Mental images of you, laying between my thighs, looking at my ever increasing wetness drive me to the brink of insane lust. Thoughts of you, closely examining my genitals, probing my hole with your tongue only serve to push me further into some lewd, sick and twisted fantasy that I have now lost control of. My own fingers slide up and down my slit as I imagine you rubbing, spreading the slick juice of heat and arousal. My hungry cunt is empty but for the wave after wave of throbbing need, the pulsating want, the blatant desire of the slut you have made me into. I more than massage my engorged clit, I rub it hard, slap it, pinch it….just as you often do. The scent of me, a slut in heat, fills the room. My eyes are closed, yet I see you…the beast that rules me, drives me and inflames me…the beast that helped to create and form the carnally depraved and licentious bitch that I have become. I am shameless in my desire to be fucked by you, used by you and even abused by you and merely for your amusement and pleasure. For that is my pleasure as well. My body writhes and contorts. I bring myself ever closer to the edge of depravity and mental chaos in my search for release from the physical world. I need release. I need to reach that sexual crescendo…the one that propels me into sub-space, that produces a gush of euphoric flow worthy of a geyser. In my mind, your fingers work feverishly, first to lure, then to tease, and finally to pull, almost against my will, the first of several orgasms from my tormented body. Torment me more I beg. Torment me until I cannot take more. Torment me until I pass out. Torment me until I die from sheer bliss and pleasure. You made this raunchy fuck-hungry whore. Now use me!
G-spot pleasure with the Platinum Edition Personal Pleasurizer by California Exotics.
It claims to be ‘blue’, but I never got blue using this. And truthfully, it looks more purple to me. So what can I say? This specially shaped dual vibrator was ergonomically designed to internally massage the g-spot and stimulate the clitoris at the same time. The wide and smooth tip of the shaft provides rather good g-spot stimulation although in my personal opinion, it would be a tiny bit better if the shaft was a little more rigid and less flexible. But then again, it is that flexibility that allows it to bend to each woman’s individual curves as the head seeks out that sometimes elusive g-spot. And it is that flexibility, along with the soft and pliable unscented TPR (Pleasurizer) that it is made from, that makes this really comfortable to use. Although it is only 2.5 inches by 1 inch insertable, that is more than sufficient for really good g-spot vibration action which is easily felt from the vibe that is just below the concave (cupped) area that is made for clitoral stimulation. That cupped area provides 24 soft, flexible and oh so stimulating nubs that massage, tingle and titillate your clitoris until you think you are in heaven. When this was designed, someone it seems actually took the time to measure the curvature of a woman and the average distance between the clit and the g-spot since other toys I have tried previously are not always the right dimensions, this one seems to be right on the mark for me.
The Personal Pleasurizer has 9 functions of vibration, pulsation and escalation that is so easily controlled via the EZ button on the end of the handle. Each press of the button moves you to another level of pleasure. This is waterproof, unscented, made of soft and pliable TPR (Pleasurizer), ABS with silver plating (the ring) and ABS (the cap). It is phthalates free and takes 2 AAA batteries which are not included. It comes in pink or blue (although I still say it looks more like purple).
Did I like the Platinum Edition Personal Pleasurizer by California Exotics? You bet I did. If I had not been supplied with it in exchange for an honest and forthright review, would I have bought it? You bet I would. Do I recommend it? You bet I do. Not all women are the same of course…and aren’t we glad of that? Every woman is unique and where some are highly sensitive in the g-spot area and this toy will be invaluable to them, some are not and need more vibrations or contact than this makes. For me personally, I found that even if I did not reach orgasm every time with the Personal Pleasurizer, the stimulation it gave me was well worth using it. You can find this and many other fine products from California Exotics at many online retailers as well as your local adult stores.
Thank you Cal Exotics for providing me with this unique and sexually satisfying product.
Unlike the majority of spankers, we do not use spanking as a form of punishment at all. The way we feel, punishment should be something you do NOT like. I like spankings. Most of the spankings I crave, actually need even, have no explanation, no reason at all. I just want and need them. The want part is easy to explain, or is it? I want to feel his dominance over me. I want to have him control me. (As a self confessed ‘control freak’ for most of my life…sometimes I dearly love not having to control myself, to be able to be without self-control.) I want to feel his physical touch. But that being said, wouldn’t a lovers embrace be a more appropriate physical touch? Make no mistake here, I do get that as well. I could glibly say , “I’m a masochist therefore I want the pain of the spanking”. To tell you just that, would be a half-truth since I could get pain without the spankings. But it is the spankings I want the most. And I am blessed that I have a husband, TheRandyBeast, who loves me enough to give me this thing I seem to need.
Yes, I am a masochist. I am not a major ‘pain-slut’…I truly have my limits. Yet those limits get tested regularly and stretched quite often. I am glad for that, because I want to extend myself, push my envelope and experience as much as I can while I draw breath. I have, in years past, tried and occasionally succeeded in living a mediocre, judicious, temperate and self-controlled life. I know vanilla through and through. I could write an encyclopedia on vanilla. What those years, no, decades, taught me was this…vanilla is a wonderfully sweet flavor…for some people…but I want more variety, more flavor in my life and more life in each flavor. I want peach, orange sherbet, strawberry, pistachio, butter pecan. I want to scoop them all into a huge bowl, add just the right amount of nuts, whipped cream and the perfect little cherry on top. Then unlike the middle America, white-bread, vanilla woman…I don’t want to eat it…no, being the kink I am, I want to roll around in it, get spanked in it and fuck in it. Yes, I’m kink and I like it.
It is the quintessential embodiment of trust to allow a man, usually stronger than a woman, to wield an implement of sometimes torturous pain and allow that person to strike you with said implement. To have that person you trust so well, spank you, bring you to sweat, tears and perhaps even muffled screams and then have that same person hold you, comfort you, minister soothing balms, whether they be words or actual ointments…to have this treasure, this bond is a source of incomparable ecstasy. Nothing I have ever experienced in my life has even begun to come close to the heights I reach through spanking followed by his tender and loving attention to me. The sensations that run through my body are explosions of monumental proportions. But it is not all about the physical aspect of spanking. My mind and his have to be in the right place for it to work like we want it to. And that is sometimes the most difficult part of spanking, D/s, BDSM or TTWD.
Yes, I am a “submissive” by nature. He is a “dominant” by nature. But we are vastly more than just that. He is dominant, yet loving, caring, compassionate, patient, understand and even tender at times. He is also a sadistic bastard with a wicked-sick sense of humor. I am submissive, yet not nearly a doormat. I am opinionated, smart-mouthed, sassy and very much a control-freak in my own life (something I battle constantly). We are incomplete without each other. Together we work. Together we feed and nurture each other. Together we create beauty in and with the pain of spanking. And it is beauty.
To see a submissive or a bottom, give more and more of themselves and go beyond where they previously have gone…to watch the beads of sweat trickle down between breasts and see the trembling of thigh muscles that have stood rigid as a Master or Sir put his ownership marks upon those same thighs with a paddle or belt…to watch the dynamics of a D/s relationship as it ebbs and flows, giving, taking, sharing…this is beauty. We create art. We create life. He is an artist. I am his canvas. We need each other to be fulfilled. He takes up the brush and paints broad stokes over the canvas, spreading just the right colors to form a base. With a different brush he makes more detailed strokes and brings the canvas to life forming an intricate picture of breathtaking design. He surveys his work and adds more nuance, more detail, perhaps more shading. The canvas is euphoric, feeling the “paint” being applied and knowing that it is being worked into a living, breathing piece of temporary art.
I am not totally altruistic here. Art for the sake of art is fine, but I am also a selfish little bitch as well. When Randy spanks me, especially when he gets my head in the right arena, the cosmos align or whatever the fuck they do….then a good spanking is cathartic, releasing me from not only my emotional pains that I’ve allowed to build up, but it releases me from any guilt I may have developed. It is New Years Day…a fresh start, a do-over, a clean slate, fresh pure snow, a pristine blank page. Along with that, if Randy messes with my head in a sexual way while spanking me, it is an almost guaranteed way to instantly arouse me to unbelievable heights. With each contact that a paddle, belt or whip makes to my very pale, soft skin, I almost gush with sexual desire. Randy especially likes that part I believe. He definitely takes advantage of it.
So you see, to me, Ptunia, a spanking is not punishment, but is reward. I earn my spankings. Not by being a “bad girl” but by being a “good girl”. I need them to clear my head, my heart and help me keep my life in a particular way. When I don’t get spanked regularly, I get irritable, clumsy, forgetful and downright bitchy at times. Randy knows then that it is time to tear my ass up again. I’m glad when he notices that I need it. And even happier when he takes me in hand and bends me over something…it’s for my own good….and his pleasure.
Viva la spanking!
Tied. Arms stretched. Legs spread.
My excited body quivers at his touch.
Candles flicker and shadows dance.
The sweet musky scent of sex surfaces.
Across my skin I feel him. His hand tenderly rides my curves.
My breath quickens, my pulse races, my nipples harden, my cunt aches.
Gently, almost imperceptibly he explores the topography where he will paint.
He is planning, mentally forming his artwork upon the willing canvas below him.
He speaks frankly of the things he will do to me, how he will paint my skin.
It is out of his sadistic desire that he will apply these brushstrokes of color.
It is out of his love for me that he will eagerly abuse me for his art.
My hunger and love for him challenges me to take as much or more than he gives out.
My emotions and expectations run rampant as he whispers, “This will hurt you so well.”
I already know it will and I begin the assent to the foggy spatial realm of a masochist.
The skin blushes at the first touch of the flogger.
The third blow of the paddle leaves a darker impact.
The last lash of the riding crop deepens the evidence of his artistic ability.
Tomorrow his art will be complete as time will bring truer colors to the human canvas.
Pink and red will be replaced with deep purple, brown, black. It will be a dark portrait.
The artwork is not static, but transforms daily to the more subtle shades of greens, blues and yellows before it ceases to be and must be repainted again.
I reel from the intoxicating sensations, letting the waves of euphoric endorphins ripple across my bare flesh and embed themselves into my carnal brain. Pain ceases, pleasure begins. I float. I fly. I cease to exist in reality. I am alone yet I am one with everything at that instant. Within that moment and no other, I am totally fulfilled and content. I have been loved into my Nirvana. Then all too soon, too suddenly, it is over, done.
Soothing words, soothing balms. Untied, unrestrained. Held close and tight. Rocked in his arms of safety and strength. He, my benefactor, praises my acceptance of his gift of art.
Kisses of gratitude. Tears of happiness. Sighs of pleasure and pain. Overwhelming joy at receiving his affection via the torment to my body. The imprints, the bruises, the welts…all manifestations and declarations of his love for me and my love for him.
Lovers, intertwined, braided together. Electric currents of sexual reciprocity, interdependent upon each other, inseparable. One gives, one accepts. One takes, one allows.
Behold the pleasure of pain.
Behold love of a sadist.
Behold love of a masochist.
“Wider.” It’s a simple command.
I instantly readjust myself in front of the laptop screen, spreading my thighs further apart.
“Good girl. Now tilt the camera downward a bit.”
Again, I do as I’m instructed. To do otherwise usually doesn’t even enter my mind.
Though to be truthful, occasionally the sassy little slut side of me comes out to play. It’s at those times when his other side also comes out. I see TheRandyBeast the clearest when I am sassy. It is those times that I’m both delightfully aroused and frightened. It’s sublime.
We are all suppose to be afraid of monsters, right? As children we fear the darkness, fear what hides in the closet, fear what lurks under the bed. We have been trained since birth to avoid pain of all sorts…but especially to avoid those that would deliberately inflict pain on us, whether that pain is physical or psychological. They are often called names such as evil, wicked, vile, sadists, perverted, devilish, mischievous, black-hearted. Yes, sometimes those people truly are maliciously evil and have no redeeming value. And yes, if such was in my life, I’d avoid him as best I could. But not all monsters are monstrous. Most “monsters” are just misunderstood.
In my world, I love such a “monster”. His name is “beast”…more specifically TheRandyBeast.
He’s a complicated and yet simple man. I have seen him show the most tender, gentle side any man ever could. I have seen him lose himself to a dark rage that could almost drive him to kill at that moment. Over the years, I have seen and often experienced the many sides to this man. He’s held me close and tenderly, slowly and passionately made love to me. He’s bound me and beaten my body for his own enjoyment before forcing me to take his manhood into whatever orifice he decided to brutally assault. I have enjoyed his kisses and his bruises. I have begged him to spread his arms wide to hold me and to spread my legs wide to use me. I have giggled as he tickled me and cried as he spanked me….both were wonderful. I love the sadistically perverted side of him. And I fear the sadistically perverted side of him as well. Perhaps I fear it because I also fear the masochist within me.
This man of mine…this twisted, kinky man…this wonderfully complicated beast is the center of my world. He says I am the center of his as well. I draw each breath into my body only so that it may fuel me to be with him. I live to love him and serve him. He lives to love me and use me. Our symbiotic relationship works well and has for many, many years now.
Are we kinky? Hell yes. Are we perverted? Again, yes. Do we care? Fuck no! We are what we are. It’s a huge stride forward in anyone’s life when they understand just what they are and can openly ask for what they need and want.
I want him. He wants me. I need him to hurt and abuse me. He needs to hurt and abuse me. This is part of who and what we are. This is part of our life together.
What do you need? What do you want?
Hello there world! Although this is a “first post” in this particular blog, it is not our first blog. Previous to this one, we wrote another blog with similar content. Due to personal reasons and privacy issues, we will eventually be deleting our other blog (which we cannot disclose the name of here)…but ‘friends’ and select others will be notified of this newly developed platform and of the blog it is replacing. It is difficult starting over again, especially when you are not keeping the previous entries or moving an older blog to a new location. On the bright side, it gives us a chance to change things and have more control since we are now the owners of our domain.
What will we write about? Everything we have written about in the last few years…sex and sexuality, acceptance, fantasy, reality, relationships, love, tits, pussy, cock, ass, BDSM, spanking, flogging, masturbation, marriage, commitment, friendship, sex toys and implements, D/s, dominance, submission, rules, emotions, punishments, behavior, rewards, life, fun, pain, pleasure, food and more than we can continue to list here.
We do not try to make it a habit to post daily, as not every day brings something interesting, exciting or entertaining enough to write about. Even the kinkiest of lives has vanilla. We do try to post at least once or twice a week and often more than that. Occasionally we post pictures of ourselves or things related to whatever we are writing about.
So come along with us and cum along with us! Visit often, feel free to leave us comments, suggestions, advice or even a limerick or joke. Walk with us as we travel “Along A Beating Path”.
This blog is ADULT in nature and NOT suitable minors under the age of legal consent in whatever area you live. It is also not suitable for viewing in the workplace or public, but is intended for private viewing by consenting adults only. If you are under the age of 18 (or 21 if you live in an area where that is legal age of consent) leave NOW. We do not take any responsibility whatsoever for any viewing by anyone, any actions or reactions as a result of viewing the content of this blog, nor do we take any responsibility for the content of links posted in this blog. Neither do we take any responsibility for usage, reliability, merit or condition of products that may be viewed on this blog or linked in, with or advertised in this blog. All products personally tested and reviewed on this blog are shown and reviewed in an honest manner by the bloggers, MissPtunia and TheRandyBeast and represent only their opinions and are not to be taken as any form of guarantee, implied or otherwise.
This disclosure policy is valid from 03 May 2010
This blog is a personal blog written and edited by me. For questions about this blog, please contact firstname.lastname@example.org.
This blog does not accept any form of cash advertising, sponsorship, or paid topic insertions. However, we will and do accept and keep free products, services, travel, event tickets, and other forms of compensation from companies and organizations.
The compensation received will never influence the content, topics or posts made in this blog. All advertising is in the form of advertisements generated by a third party ad network. Those advertisements will be identified as paid advertisements.
The owner(s) of this blog is compensated to provide opinion on products, services, websites and various other topics. Even though the owner(s) of this blog receives compensation for our posts or advertisements, we always give our honest opinions, findings, beliefs, or experiences on those topics or products. The views and opinions expressed on this blog are purely the bloggers’ own. Any product claim, statistic, quote or other representation about a product or service should be verified with the manufacturer, provider or party in question.
This blog does not contain any content which might present a conflict of interest.
To get your own policy, go to http://www.disclosurepolicy.org
Let’s face it here…shit happens.
If we are honest with ourselves, we must admit that sometimes it is our own fault. Sometimes it is definitely NOT!
People try to use you (not in any kinky good way). People try to lie to you. People try to take advantage of you. Family takes you for granted. Friends resent you. Co-workers take credit for your work. The boss yells for you to work faster/better/more so that HE looks good. Other drivers cut you off in traffic. The counter help at the local fast food joint can’t make simple change at the register. Your stylist fucks up your hair. The cable repair guy shows up 5 hours later than he said he’d be there. Your neighbor, once again, spouts his/her propaganda and rhetoric that you have repeatedly said you don’t want to hear. The auto repair that was promised at one price is now three times as much. The waitress swears the coffee is decaf but at 3AM you realize she lied! The item the store promised via phone to hold for you until you got there, has been sold to someone else.
Trouble abounds. Stress ensues. Pressure builds. Something gives.
We all have them…THOSE moments.
Things I wish I could say in THOSE moments….
1. Well I can see that the “Fuck-Up Fairy has been here again.
2. I am already imagining what your mouth will look like once I cover it in duct tape.
3. No, I am not being rude. I just don’t give a flying fuck about you or what you have to say today.
4. Yes I can see the point you’re trying to make, but I still think you are full of shit.
5. I see that you think you should be worshiped. Too bad I’m an atheist.
6. What am I? A flypaper for freaks?
7. You want this when? How about NEVER? Is that good for you cause that’s good for me.
8. I see you have set aside time to humiliate yourself in public. Good for you. Well done. You’ve succeeded.
9. I have no idea what the fuck your problem is, but I am sure it is hard to pronounce and needs medication.
10. I will really try to be nicer providing you try to be smarter.
11. I see your mouth moving but all I hear coming out is “I’m a tool, I’m a tool, I’m a tool…”
12. You are really validating my inherit distrust of strangers.
13. Thanks for your opinion. But if I had wanted it, I would have choked you until you crapped it out.
14. Any connection between your reality and THE REALITY is purely coincidental.
15. I can see you forgot your necessary medications again today.
16. You know, I can fix what’s wrong with you. But it is gonna take a butter knife, a roll of duct tape and a car battery.
17. You actually sound reasonable today. Guess that means you upped the dosage, right?
18. I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I forgot that you’re an idiot.
19. I sorta like you. You remind me of when I too was young and stupid.
20. Was the umbilical cord wrapped around your neck at birth? Cause I think it cut off oxygen to your brain.
21. Even McGyver couldn’t fix you.
Here’s hoping your life has less shit, more smiles, less hate and more love.
And remember, it is the “crazies” that make life fun and entertaining. Normal people are boring.
On second thought…maybe I’m the one that’s crazy.
California Exotic Novelties, better known as CalExotic, a leader in the manufacturing of adult sex toys, has now produced a pure silicone 10 (yes, TEN) function, DUAL Motor (YES…TWO MOTORS!!!) Vibrator called the Lia
This hot pink, velvety feeling vibrator is powerful and capable of delivering a variety of pulsations and vibrations that are sure to please almost anyone.The primary motor controls the shaft, the secondary motor is in the clitoral stimulator with it’s two little flexible “tongues”. What makes this vibrator unique is not only the dual power, but the tip end of the shaft is unlike any other vibe I have personally seen. It has an encircled group of 16 tiny nubs, all waiting to excite you. The 5.25 insertable inches of the tiered shaft provide wave after escalating waterproof fun, so taking this to the shower, the hot tub or the pool is not a problem. Two AA batteries installed in the easily opened end and a willingness to give yourself over to pleasure are all that is needed.
Cleanup with silicone toys is easy…soap and warm water or your favorite antibacterial toy cleaner are both good ideas. As silicone does sometimes tend to attract dust or lint, store your toy in the original box or another closed container for best results. Any sort of water based lubricant works well with this but avoid silicone lube as it is not good for silicone toys. Look for this or any other fine quality CalExotics product at your favorite adult store or online adult store. If they don’t carry CalExotic, ask them to. CalExotics is a female owned and operated company and a leader in the industry.
Happy and Safe Sex! MissPtunia.
“Honey, I think I need a spanking.”
It was a blunt, ‘to-the-point’ statement rather than the cutsie, beat around the bush, hint-hint stuff I am usually known for with Randy. Then I looked directly into his eyes…..those enveloping, all-seeing, gorgeous blue eyes that have the power to penetrate to my….sorry dear reader, I tend to get lost when I think of his eyes and how they always make me feel. So, how did this come about? I can and will only speak for myself. The following may not be the way you are…but it IS me…me and Sir (TheRandyBeast).
I don’t call it “whining”, I call it “whimpering”. I cannot whine. It is not allowed. Our family’s “Eleventh Commandment: Thou Shalt Not Whine!” Whining implies that one is grumbling and extolling their misery on an ongoing basis again and again and again and again. It gets on my nerves real fast.….even my own whining. I’m a sub yet I want to go all hardcore Domme on a whiner. Yet how can I go hardcore Domme on myself? I can’t. Therefore I need Sir, TheRandyBeast, to fix me. I am temporarily broken and in need of repair.
Although I call it a whimper today, I know I am on the brink of “The Eleventh”. I am stressed. I am tense. I cannot focus or concentrate. I start a project only to stop a short while later, leaving it half finished, which gives me a sense of failure. I inexplicably feel scattered to the four corners, incapable of any resolute action. I have a hard time making any sort of decision, large or small, important or insignificant. I am temporarily broken and in need of repair.
My social life is at a standstill in every area. I do not want to interact, to talk, to share or even to help others, which has always been one of my driving forces. It is not that I am feeling selfish. It is not that I am anti-social. It is because I am temporarily broken and in need of repair.
Like a small child, I forget to look before I cross the street. I find I sometimes scuff along as I walk and often do not pick my feet up high enough, therefore I have stumbled a few times when stepping up on a curb or over something. It is lack of attention, lack of focus. It is lack of incentive, lack of self-care. It is because I am temporarily broken and in need of repair.
I have trouble falling asleep at night, regardless of how tired I may be. Insomnia has become my nightly bed partner. The few hours I actually do sleep each night are fitful, full of tossing and turning and disembodied dreams that I cannot fully remember. It is because I am temporarily broken and in need of repair.
Soon I will be repaired…..mended and restored…..as good as new, probably better. I will be purged of my inconsistent expenditure of energy and will instead find myself with the pin-point accuracy of a laser. I will once again become steadfast and reliable in my efforts. My thoughts will be positive and channeled into productive ways. I will once again feel my womanly sensuality and sexuality and it will openly show as I walk with him. My steps will again be light and sure. My determination and dedication will grow by leaps and bounds.
Soon I will be repaired…..mended and restored…..as good as new, probably better. And all this will take is his touch, his attention, his actions, his love. Laid bare across the bed, sure in the knowledge that each resounding blow I feel and receive was given in the utmost of love, he will repair that which is broken. He will never do this in anger, in malice, in anything except love. He loves me enough to know I need this from time to time. And so, I am back at the beginning again….“Honey, I think I need a spanking.”