Tag Archives: belt

Guest Post by M

I asked M if he would do a guest post for me on my blog about Saturday night’s events and last October’s event which triggered those feelings. He agreed, so here is his post. It is unedited, save for the odd spelling/grammar mistake which I have corrected.

October. I didn’t find out about October until about November, maybe early December. I felt several things: rage, concern, worry, sympathy. Since then I have been trying to tease out the details of that night. To also add to what my kitten has said concerning H, the reason why I call her slut is that her submissive name that he called her was slut (whereas I call her kitten).

Saturday.

It started off in the room kitten was staying in. After a brief phonecall, she suddenly turned around and started growling at me. She then proceeded to try and pin me down at which I let it go so far, before forcing her up above me and then down onto the bed. We then moved to my room where the same happened. Safe to say kitten has a very short term memory.

At this point, I would like to point out how kitten has different levels of submission. Before I make kitten give over all control, I always ask her if she wants it first. As she said yes, she also asked that I call her slut. I obliged, telling her to hike up her dress and get on my cock. I started calling her slut. I also started asking kitten a series of questions; questions forcing her to submit to me and give over every part of herself. Whilst doing this, I asked a question I instantly regretted.

“No one else has any hold over you do they, not even if H calls you slut?”

kitten instantly flinched badly and almost collapsed into me. As she lay on me, I didn’t want to end our last night together in this way. I asked her if she felt like going further than ever and kitten said yes. I asked her to get a belt and then tied her hands with it. I started taking her again whilst calling her my slut.

As my very good slut, kitten carried on going. All credit to her, she faced her fears. We both came and afterwards she collapsed onto my chest as I tried to reassure her of how good a kitten she was and how proud of her I was.

Hopefully my kitten will not severely regress whilst away from me physically until we next see each other.

I am so proud of you kitten, and I still love you.

M xxx

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Slut (Weekend part 2)

After we got back from dinner, we lounged around for a while, watching the first bit of “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” before heading upstairs so I could shower as I was feeling quite tired by this point. However, I perked up a little when we got to his room and I thought it would be a good idea to pounce on M and tackle him to his bed. Hmm. Seems I forgot how strong M is. Oops. Our little wrestle on the bed didn’t last very long and of course, he came out victorious, pinning me down on my back, legs spread, with his fingers in me, stroking me mercilessly as I gasped and wriggled futilely.

“Hmm so if you’re in charge, why aren’t you making me stop fingering you?” M asked, a little mockingly.

My only answer was to moan a little more and to buck my hips.

“I think you need to be fucked again don’t you?”

I nodded mutely at him.

“Get over here then and ride my cock. Keep your dress on.” Sir withdrew his fingers from me and unbuckled his belt and shorts before lying down on the floor. I lowered myself onto him slowly – my thong had already been taken off sometime earlier and lay discarded in my room – and started fucking him.

“Do you want to be called bad names kitten? Do you? I think I will call you them…slut. My slut.” He thrust into me harder.

“Mine. Nobody else has any hold over you when they call you slut, do they?”

I shook my head hesitantly.

“So if H calls you slut-”

I flinched, badly. I couldn’t help myself. I started shaking and buried my head into M’s shoulder.

“No no no…shhhh…it’s ok, you’re safe. Shhhh…I’m sorry, that was too far…stay with me kitten, stay with me…shhhh….” M’s arms wrapped around me as he tried to soothe me.
“Let’s beat it tonight, shall we, once and for all?” he asked me gently, wiping away a few tears that had escaped my eyes. I sniffled and nodded.

“Ok,” I whispered.

“Ok…go get the belt for me.” M gazed at me compellingly, his eyes soft and understanding, but also determined at the same time. I bit my lip and nodded, climbing off him somewhat awkwardly to find his belt. I returned with it but before he could use it to bind my hands together, I pointed mutely at the packet of tissues next to him. The corners of his lips turned upwards slightly in a soft smile and he nodded, saying “of course kitten”. I took a tissue and used it to wipe my face clean of tears and set it down beside us, taking a deep breath as I did so. I offered my wrists to M without him prompting me and he looped the belt around my hands, securing it so my hands wouldn’t be able to move. He guided me back onto his cock as I placed my hands on the ground next to his head to steady myself.

“My slut…shh…stay with me. Stay with me.” I looked into his eyes as he thrust slowly into me and shut out everything else as best as I could. The flashbacks, the memories, the thoughts…everything. I was M’s. Nothing else mattered.

“Shh…you’re safe with me, aren’t you? You’re my slut and nobody else calling you that is allowed to have any effect on you are they? Not even H. You’re mine. You’re going to ride my cock whilst I call you slut, and you’re going to cum for me whilst I call you slut. Aren’t you?”

“…yes Sir.” It came out as barely a whisper.

“Louder slut…say it like you mean it.”

“Yes Sir! I’m your slut…” I started to bury my head in his neck again but he shook his head and told me firmly to keep my head up. Moving my hands so they were underneath his head, M started fucking me harder and faster, all the while calling me his slut…I whimpered when he came inside of me, plunging his cock into me deeply…

“Carry on riding my cock, slut.”

I started moving my hips as much as I could without falling over as my hands weren’t free to steady myself. Gradually, I started to realise that M calling me slut was turning me on, a lot and that I actually really wanted to cum on his cock whilst he called me slut.

When I finally came, it was explosive. I shuddered, I whimpered, I moaned, I cried. And still, M was calling me slut repeatedly throughout my trembling. As my shaking calmed down, he took the belt off my hands and hugged me to him gently.

“Shhh….there’s my good slut…”

Laying on the bed snuggling afterwards, I felt calm, calmer about being called slut and having the belt used on me than I ever had before. I wasn’t upset or shaken as I had been in the past. I was M’s and therefore the past shouldn’t have any hold over me. M is the only one who can affect me using those two things. Nobody else. I am safe with M. I am His submissive, His kitten, His girl, His sex slave, His slut and whatever else He deems me to be. I am His. I am M’s.

 

N.B. I am sure a lot of you are wondering about the significance of this to me and I shall explain to you, my readers, why this is as M requested I do so.

Last year, one of my exs (called H – my first “Dom” actually) took advantage of me when I was drunk (we weren’t going out and hadn’t been for a long time at that point) and it has left me with scars emotionally. As a result of this, I have associated certain things with him and have become scared of them. Of these, being called “slut” and having a belt used on me to be tied up are two of them.

Since I got together with M and told him about what happened, we have been trying to work together to try and overcome my fears. There have been set backs along the way and every time we have a breakthrough, I always seem to regress a little with time. Therefore in my eyes, what happened this Saturday night is a major development. I no longer flinch when M calls me slut – though how long this will last has yet to be seen. In conquering being called “slut”, I find I am no longer so afraid of the belt. I did after all offer my wrists to be bound willingly to M that night. It has confirmed to me that I truly do trust M – and that every time I get scared of something, it is just a scar of the past and not because I don’t trust M. Previously, I sometimes worried if I really did trust M not to hurt me, as every time we tried to conquer my fears, I would always flinch and panic. I know now that this is more of a reflexive defence mechanism than anything else. As a result of Saturday night, I hope this is the start of a new beginning for me, where I do not flinch away from M irrationally. Saturday night was also the reason behind this post as some may have realised.

That’s all I have to say really…look out for a guest post by M soon – I have requested that he write his version of Saturday night’s events so I can understand his point of view. With his permission, I shall share it with all of you.

Thanks for reading (:

kitten x

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