One of the questions I most often get about my lifestyle is whether or not domination is abuse. I can see how it looks like abuse from a outsider’s standpoint. I’ve had more than a few bruises and my Daddy isn’t afraid to yell at me when I’m out of line.

Domination certain can be abuse, and I think that all dominants abuse their powers from time to time. Nobody is perfect.

Ok, let me collect my thoughts about this…I feel like I’m rambling a bit!

To start, not everyone understands how a d/s relationship works. I’m not expert. In fact, I’m still fairly new to this kind of lifestyle. There are multiple kinds of d/s relationships. Some couples are only involved in domination and submission while in the bedroom. That’s different than role-playing. You can certainly role-play, which is how I first knew that I liked being submissive. The difference between role-playing in the bedroom and being in a true sexual d/s relationship is that with role-playing you can fall in and out of your characters easily.

In a true d/s relationship, you aren’t acting. It is who you are. Think of it this way – you know how during college there are always girls willing to kiss (and more) other girls? They aren’t lesbians, but for the sake of experimenting or showing off in front of guys or whatever, they play the role of the lesbian. And they have a lot of fun doing so! It isn’t wrong, it is just fun.

But I’m getting off the point. A true d/s relationship can be bedroom only or it can be 24/7. Being a 24/7 sub means that you belong to your dom not matter what he or she asks of you. It could be sexual, but it goes deeper – at your dom’s request, you’re willing to do just about anything, no matter how tough. You put your dom’s needs before your own.

A good dom, though, will put your needs first without thinking. This is where abuse comes in. A dom shouldn’t ask you to rub his feet when you’re sick, no matter how much she/he wants a foot rub. You’re sick. Your needs come first.

What a good dom knows is that being submissive makes you feel loved and happy. So, many times, asking you to do things she/he wants is best for both of you. As a sub, you’re trusting that your dom knows when to push you and when to bring you back down to earth.

I mentioned that all doms abuse their powers occasionally. That doesn’t mean that the dom is an abuser. Think about it. When you’re mad at your significant other in a vanilla relationship, you might yell and say things that you don’t really mean. If you call your so an idiot in the heat of an argument, are you verbally abusive? Nah, you’re human.

The problem is that in a 24/7 d/s relationship, it can be hard for the sub not to take things to heart and hold his/her own against the dom. And the dome knows it. So, it can be really easy for the dom to really hurt feelings when he/she is angry. If you aren’t careful, things can turn abusive quickly.

I guess I just wanted to talk to you all about this today because I’ve recently been arguing a lot with my Daddy. We’re both incredibly stressed. I’m actually a pretty dominant person in my business world, so it is tough for me to disagree with him about anything. Part of me wants to stand me ground, and part of me wants to kneel at his feet and tell him that I’ll try better.

I’m not suggesting that Daddy is abusing me verbally or otherwise. He’s not, usually. He knows that I’m submissive to him though, and during an argument, it is easy for him to hurt me deeply. Earlier today he talked about the fact that he doesn’t want me to back down when I believe in something and he feels differently. He loves me, and it turns him on that I’m my own person. It is still tough on both of our parts when we fight.

Luckily, I do see light at the end of the tunnel. No relationship is perfect; ours is just unusual. However, I did want to talk about abuse because I think there are some people out there in false d/s relationships. If you’re a sub and you’re often scared, dangerously injured, disregarded as "not mattering," or forced to do things that does not benefit you in the end, take a second look at your relationship and be honest with yourself. If it is abuse, please get out.

And remember…I’m always here to listen. rori@betweenmysheets.com

Happy Memorial Day, BMS readers. I’d like to make a special note that my love goes out today to the men and women overseas that makes it possible for me to live in a free country where a BDSM relationship is ok! Thank you, thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

On a related note,  I’ve been told by some friends in the service that my site is noted as porn in some places and not always accessible when overseas on on a military base. If that is the case for someone you love, let me know. If they want, I can get them subscribed via email so that they can get the steamy updates right to their inboxes. I never ever share email address or real names with anyone.

Alright, in honor of Memorial Day, here’s some sexy patriotic women. Cheers!

photo credit: treivilo

photo credit: G2 Pics

 
photo credit: Luc D

photo credit: Ben Northern

photo credit: ldoherty81

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, and you better be laying on your bed, naked, and masturbating when I walk in the door.”

That’s what he said to me as he hung up the phone. My body immediately reacted to Daddy’s intensity. He rarely hangs up on me without saying “I love you” or “Talk to you later.” And, like I said, he might have said ten minutes, but I knew he’d be early.

And I was right. I glanced at the clock as I wriggled out of my jeans and panties. 8:03. When I heard his car pull up, I glanced at it again. 8:09. As I heard the front door open, I slid my vibrator deep into my already-wet pussy slow, letting out a little gasp. I hadn’t orgasmed in so long.

He walked into the bedroom, kicking off his shoes and not looking at me, but at my body. He knelt down on beside the bed and watched as I used one finger to slowly encircle my clit while pumping my toy, turned off, slowly in and out of my wetness. He trailed kisses along the sides of my breast, my stomach, my hip bones. I closed my eyes.

“God, I love you.”

There was no “sorry” or other apology from either of us. Truth be told, I wasn’t sorry, and neither was he. We’re both strong-minded people, and we were sorry we fought, but we weren’t sorry for our clash of ideas. It doesn’t matter. We don’t have to agree on everything, and just because I’m his babygirl doesn’t mean that he gets to tell me how to think and feel. And he’s OK with that. In fact, maybe I’m wrong, but I kind of thing that it’s one of the reasons he love me most.

“So wet, baby.” He whispered as his fingers joined me in rubbing my swollen clit. I let out a soft purr and opened my eye to stare at his face. He was looking right back, and kissed me hard before reaching down to grasp my toy, which I was still pistoning slowly into and out of my cunt. “Let’s make you wetter.”

He pulled a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket and locked me together at my wrists, and then used his belt to hook me to the headboard. He reached back down and pulled the toy out of my dripping pussy, examining it as my juiced dripped down onto his hand.

“You’re making a mess, baby.” He said, holding his hand to my mouth. I licked of my juices that had dripped onto him and nodded. “I’m sorry, daddy.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about. Yet.” He smirked and reached down, spanking my pussy hard. I yelped at the smack and he slapped me again, harder, and thrusted the toy deeply into me, hard, in one swoop. It knocked the air out of me and I gasped.

“You’re such a dirty slut,” he said with a smile. “Who’s dirty little slut are you?”

“I’m your dirty little slut,” I gasped out as he pumped my toy hard and fast. He flipped the switch and it began to buzz. I cried out and wriggled against my cuffs.

“Louder.”

“I’m your dirty little slut, Daddy,” I scream out, the vibrations almost sending me over the edge.

“Good,” He grunted, pulling his jeans down, pulling the toy out of me, and fucking me hard. The bed slammed and creaked as he pounded into me, faster and faster, grasping at my nipples, pinching and pulling them. “Cum for me.”

I arched my back and his hands cupped my bouncing breasts, worshiping them as he fucked me, my legs wrapped around he neck.

“Cum for me now, Rori,” he growled, biting my leg.

I scream louder as I slid into the orgasm, throbbing on his cock, still thrusting hard into me.

“God, I love you,” he moaned and I breathed hard from the orgasm, my pussy still throbbing. His thrusts slowed, but did not stop and my sensitive pussy felt like it was on fire.

“I love you, Daddy.”

“We’re not done with you yet.”

I’ve mentioned here before that I don’t get to be with my Daddy as much as I’d like to be with him. During our "off" time, we still keep in touch, of course, and I’m still his babygirl, but lately with both of us being stressed about work and other things in life, sex hasn’t been at the forefront of our minds.

Well, his mind. Daddy and I deal with stress a little differently. He needs to shut down a bit and focus on his work, while I need more playtime to stop thinking about work. He’s been really sensitive about that too, and has given me a free pass (for now at least) to masturbate when I need to. That doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t ask him for permission or that I can do it all the time just because I want to…but if I’m feeling especially stressed and grumpy, I can mb without begging for permission first.

And yeah, that’s helped, but I still miss that physical connection with him. Really, I don’t LIKE not being submissive. I’m happiest when I’m at his feet and on my leash, even if we’re just watching TV or doing work at our computers. I don’t like masturbating without him telling me to do so, and it is never as good.

On Saturday, I was having a particularly bad day. A friend of mine let me down about something and I was stressed out about that and work and everything in life, really. I called him to vent about it and (sigh) we ended up getting into a big argument because we were both in bad moods. We try to never stop talking on the phone or IM or email or in person without saying we’re sorry and that we love one another, and we didn’t this time either, but as we were hanging up, he told me that he was going for a walk to cool down and that maybe I should too.

It wasn’t really a good day, and that made it worse. I had to fight to keep from crying because I knew he was stressed and disappointed in me about certain things.

About five minutes after I hung up the phone, it rang and I saw it was his number. I wasn’t about to have another fight and I was in the middle of working on something, so I let it go straight to voice mail. A second later, it rang again. He rarely does that – calling until I pick up – so I panicked a little and thought something was wrong.

"Hello?"

"Hi."

"Is everything Ok, Daddy?"

"Yes, but we’re having a change of plans. We’re not cooling down. Get naked."

I think my jaw dropped. Seriously…we haven’t messed around in weeks.

"Daddy?"

"You heard me. I’ll be there in ten minutes, and you better be laying on your bed, naked, and masturbating when I walk in the door." *click*

I kind of just started at my phone for a few seconds before struggling out of my clothes. Daddy is always early….

(to be continued…sorry, that’s all I have time to write today!!!)

I have a burning…primal…sizzling need to be fucked.

I’m not talking about your run-of-the-mill sex. I’m talking about a hard fucking, the kind that leaves bruises and bit marks.

I want my neck to ache from Daddy pulling back my hair, and I want my ass to be striped with red from him whipping me.

I want teeth marks up and down my stomach, on my breasts, spotting my collarbone.

Fucking so hot that we catch on fire, rubbing, burning, gasping for air…needing to break and needing more all at once.

I want to be broken in two, laying on the bed, helpless, feeling him thrust in and out of my harder, faster, frenzied until he cums with a loud grunt and our juices flow out of my wet cunt, mixed together.

I want to be fuuuuuucked.

…hehe, can you tell I haven’t seen my Daddy in awhile?