It's hot. Damn hot. Inescapably hot, unless you're fortunate enough to work from your air conditioned home, get your meals delivered and have a lover who gives ice cube massages. For the rest of us, there's not much to do but submit to the heat. Submit, as in, to relinquish control; to give one's self over willingly.
With all this stifling heat and humidity making everyone grumpy, why not try a little submission of your own? Put yourself in guest contributor Madeline's hands after the jump for a look at several different faces of BDSM submissives. We promise it'll only hurt a little.
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Sex Blog Roundup
by Madeline Glass
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Pulling out, he pushed my body so that I lay on my stomach, hands still tied, shoving one of my legs up and thrusting into me again. My head hung off the edge of the mattress and I slipped in and out of here and now and off into that pretty place where I float.
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The pain was mind bending, but as I stared up at him in shock, his concentrated look of intense and slightly sadistic pleasure flooded me with my own submissive pleasure. I knew I was being mind fucked, he knew he was mind fucking me, and the wicked smile on his face sent me over the edge.
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He started with light slaps, alternating sides, slowly picking up intensity, my breath starting to come in small gasps. Every fourth swat or so, landed dead center of the bruise left from the night before, sending sparks through me.
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A few swats of warm-up smacks and then the fun began. It didn't matter, as the blows got harder and faster, how much I wriggled. I couldn't get away. I felt the heat intensify throughout my nether regions, not just my bottom. He got me up and I was bent over the arm of the sofa, eyes tight shut, glowing. I couldn't see what was coming next (which adds to my pleasure), but I could hear it! Light flogger, flicked across my bottom, tickled across my back, making me arch with pleasure, then whap! across my cheeks, I lost count of how many times.
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He was blindfolded, but I knew his eyes were closed. A slight smile on his lips, parted slightly told me he was in the right place. I hesitated and he stayed like that. No apprehension of what would come, no fear, no goddamn talking. Call it subspace, floating, endorphin high, whatever. His mind was detached from his body and he was feeling no pain, only pleasure. I beat him again.
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Thumbnail via Introspectre
Previously: Sex Blog Roundup Archive