Mina Button's blog

kink and feminism and stuff…formerly known as Absinthe Cocktail.

Archive for January, 2012

Buttsex (among other things) is Magic

Posted in Uncategorized on January 30, 2012 by

Garnet and I hadn’t really been to a big party together since we officially started our relationship.  It’s hard to make plans, and I keep acquiring more hours at work, and, of course, we are always at the mercy of the whims  of public transportation.  But this is one of the many, many reasons I was so excited to go to a big, awesome public party as Garnet’s girlfriend and submissive.

On the way there, we found ourselves in an empty subway car.  We glanced around and saw that no one could see us, and she had me bend over and hold the subway pole.  She gave me a few good smacks, then pushed me against the seats and held me by the throat and kissed me roughly.  She rubbed at my c lit through my jeans.  I wish we’d had more time, but of course people got on at the next stop.

The party was fun.  It was definitely…different than I remember things being in the past.  Somehow I have very much lost the knack of meeting new people, and I hadn’t gone out in about six months, and like I’ve said several times before, I have not kept up my friendships the way I should.  Still, it was nice to see people I hadn’t seen in a long time.  I got to be part of a human sculpture exhibition, which was extremely fun and I may write more about it another time.  I also got to see some exciting things, like an awesome violet wand scene on a bondage chair that had tentacles, and an actual for realz squildo in person.

But of course, the high points of my night were because of Garnet.

I get beaten for typos.  Do you all know that?  Every time I make a typo here, on in a text to Garnet, it earns me a stroke of the cane (or crop or hand or whathaveyou).  I have amassed a lot of punishment due to this rule, mostly because when I’m sleepy or very turned on or in a hurry autocorrect is not my friend.  So I had earned over 100 hits…but because Garnet takes good care of me, she decided she would give me 50 that night.

I had bought her a new riding crop earlier in the day, a long whippy black and red one.  We scouted around and eventually found a little bit of space, on a little square landing.  She let me keep my shorts on, and I bent over and clutched the railing in front of me and agreed to count the strokes.  She pulled back and landed the first one across my ass…and I collapsed, doubled over and sobbing.  I’m still not 100% sure why I started crying so hard and so suddenly.  It’s true I haven’t done much pain play lately, and that crop stings, but mostly I think I was crying because I felt like I had really let Garnet down.  I hated thinking I’d disappointed her.  She kissed me and petted my hair and checked in with me that I was okay to keep going.  I told her I was and got back into position.  I counted, loudly, as she started again.  My body kept wanting to straighten out, to avoid the blows.  She yelled at me to stay bent over, to keep my ass out, and I fought hard against my instincts to try to stay in position.  Still, I kept trying not to straighten up.  I need more practice.  I kept counting, and made it to 47, counting each stinging hit in a loud, clear voice.  The last three came in fast succession, and I couldn’t count them.  I just kind of slid to the floor crying again.

I’ve still got at least 50 more to go…

We took a little break then, and Garnet let me rub her feet.  Our friend Lizzie wandered up around the time I was finishing, and Garnet asked her if she’d like me to rub her feet.  It was interesting giving someone else a foot rub…pleasant, but so very different from the intensity of rubbing Garnet’s feet.

The evening was kind of winding down for both of us when we decided to find a spot for to fuck me.  We had talked about her fucking my ass at the party, and we’d even tried to throw a big scene together around it (which sadly fell through), and now it was time.  I was a little nervous.  I’d never really been fucked with anything besides fingers at a party before, and this was going to be a kind of sex that’s especially exciting and vulnerable for me.

We found a spot on a bench, and Garnet strapped on a smooth, curved cock that I actually bought her specifically for fucking my ass.  I was really excited to finally be using it.  She had me bend over and take down my shorts and tights and undies, and she began to warm me up.  I was surprised at how quickly I slid open for her.  She pressed the tip of the cock against me and began to slide it in, then paused and asked if she should turn it around.  I asked if she would, and we paused while she flipped it so that it curved downwards.  Then, she slid it inside me.

I really like anal sex.  I feel like I must have mentioned it here before, but if I haven’t, let me say it now–I really like anal sex.  I pushed back on her cock, bouncing on it a little, wiggling against it and loving the way it felt, all that smoothness sliding inside me.  Garnet started out slow, but as it became apparent how much I was enjoying it, she sped up.  I feel like I said encouraging things, though I don’t actually remember what they were.  She held me down and pulled my hair and moaned and growled in my ear.  It was impossibly hot, her holding me like that and pushing her cock into my ass, gradually getting harder and faster and rougher with me.  Her fingers slid over my clit, and I was close, so very close, to coming, but it was hard to keep the rhythm between her fingers on me and her cock in my ass.  I asked if I could use a vibrator–I actually hadn’t brought any of my usual high-tech rechargeable ones, but I did have a little watch-battery bullet in my bag, the sort of thing that would never get me off in a million years by itself.  She gave me permission.

I turned on the bullet and held it against myself as Garnet pushed her cock into me, as I pushed back onto her cock, wanting to take it as deep as I could, wanting to be filled up, to be as thoroughly fucked as I could be by her.  ”Come for me,” she growled in my ear, “I want to feel you squeeze my cock.”  I whispered “Oh, fuck,” and then I was coming and I screamed it out over and over, “Oh FUCK, OH FUCK…” until I collapsed against the back of the bench.  I hoped, vaguely, that I hadn’t disturbed the people on the other side of the bench.  They didn’t seem to mind.

Garnet put some needles in my thighs while I was still coming down from the high of her fucking me.  I kind of love the way she hurts me when I’m all sensitive and euphoric after sex.  This sex, though, was particularly intense, even for us, and I couldn’t take much pain.  I was actually pretty shaky and out-of-it until after we left the party a little while later.

I couldn’t have asked for a better experience.

Fingers

Posted in Uncategorized on January 26, 2012 by

Garnet and I met up for noodles on my way home from work.  We stuffed ourselves on crab rangoon and lo mein and fried rice, then got gelato.  When we got to the apartment, the steam heat was on full blast and my tights were rubbing in uncomfortable places and clearly the only thing to do was to start taking our clothes off.

Soon, Garnet was just in her bra and undies and thigh-high socks.  I wriggled out of my tights and skirt, and then, eventually, pulled off my t-shirt.  We lay on the bed and cuddled and teased each other.  She looked almost unbearably sexy, in her long socks, and I kissed and nuzzled my way between her legs.  She held me there by the hair for a moment, grinding against me.

When she let me go, I lay back and told her she smelled and tasted delicious.  She ran her fingers over my skin and dipped them down, below the waistband of my black and white stripey underwear.  She stroked and swirled her fingers there, and I moaned a little and spread my legs wider, opening up for her.

I have mentioned before that I don’t usually come from manual stimulation (it pretty much only happens if there’s something in my ass…but I have a whole post to write about buttsex soon).  I almost never come from manual stimulation without some sort of penetration somewhere.  Like, it hasn’t happened in years and years.

But Garnet was not about to let something like that stop her.  She petted and stroked and pushed, and I purred about how good it felt.   She asked if I thought lube would help, and I said it might.  She added some, and the sensation got smoother and more delicious.  ”Oh, yeah, lube is good I like lube,” I said awkwardly, all in a rush.

It took a while, it was a slow build up.  She swirled her fingers over my clit until it felt so good it was as if she was striking sparks from me with every stroke.  My body gave in, and I clutched at her and I think I maybe even called out her name as I came and came.

Of course, then she took advantage of my super-sensitive clit, pinching it and rubbing it and giving it a slap or two.  I twitched and whimpered in response.  It was overwhelming and not exactly pleasant, but I have to admit I liked it.  She even pinched it with a hair pin she found on my nightstand, which felt amazing and unbearable and painful all at once.

When she took it off, she promised there would be more to follow…

Conversations About Birth Control

Posted in Uncategorized on January 24, 2012 by

I was 13 the first time one of my friends got pregnant.  She was older than me, by a whopping two years.  15 and didn’t find out she was pregnant until she had no options other than having the baby.  At the time she told me that she and her boyfriend used condoms every time.  Years later, as her daughter napped, she told  me that her parents had said, after she came home from the hospital, that she should have told them she was having sex, that they would have been a little weirded out, but that they would have gotten her on the pill.  ”You should do that,” she said.

When I was 15, I had an ovarian cyst that knocked my monthly cycle out of whack and caused the single scariest pregnancy scare I have ever had.  I had been having penis-in-vagina sex with Dr. Asshole for about a month when the cyst started hurting.  Eventually, my cycle got so irregular that my doctor prescribed Ortho Tri Cyclen, which made me throw up five times when I started the first pill pack.  My mother pulled me aside one day and blatantly lied to me, saying that because I was on the pill just to regulate my cycle, I might still ovulate–in fact, she was almost certain I would still ovulate and could still get pregnant, so I shouldn’t take this as an excuse to…do anything.  I was 15, a product of abstinence-only sex ed, and I still knew she was full of shit.  Dr. Asshole and I stopped using condoms.

When I was 21, and away at school, my best friend mentioned in passing how glad she was about having gotten her period.  I asked a bunch of questions, eventually she admitted that she and her new boyfriend had been using condoms “sometimes.”  I told her she should go to the campus health center and she if she could get on the pill, and it eventually came out that she’d never had a gynecological exam at all.  We were about to leave for Thanksgiving break, but I insisted we stop at the health center and make an appointment for her first.  No one had ever told her she should start getting pap smears, etc. once she became sexually active. 

Conversations like these are part of why I believe one of the best things you can do is talk about sex.  Not just with your partners, but with your friends and the other important people in your life.  My mother, of course, made a complete mess out of things, but at least I had other people to talk to.

Girlfriend Time/Dom Time

Posted in Uncategorized on January 9, 2012 by

Things are shifting between Garnet and me.  She’s said as much, but New Years week-end it was really, especially tangible.  For the past…month or so?  A little longer?  We’ve been girlfriends.  We’ve spent a lot of time cuddling and just hanging out.  I’ve been able to get away with stuff that normally would get me punished, and she even gave me a break from my rules for a few weeks (though that had more to do with the break-up with Roderick than anything else).

We were lounging on the bed, and she said something about wondering if she wanted to take time to jerk off or not.  I somewhat shyly suggested that I could maybe go down on her.  It’s not her favorite thing, but I really like doing it.  The last time she let me, a long time ago, before we were even officially together, she teased me about thinking I was a top the whole time.  This time, she let me trail kisses over her yummy, creamy skin.  She let me work my fingers under her bra and pinch and play with her nipples, then lick them and tease them with my tongue.  Still unfamiliar with the bounds of girlfriend-time, I was a little shy and tentative.  She kept laughing at me and telling me how cute I was.

I love her body.  I don’t get to blog about it very much, because though it’s one of my rules that I have to blog about every time we play or have sex, she’s generally too busy making me come so hard that I cry to give me much of a chance to reciprocate.  This works for us, but I get really extra-excited when I get to touch and kiss and taste her.

I kissed my way down, over her ribs and down over her hip.  I ran my tongue over her skin, just under the band of her underwear.  I kissed my way down between her legs and nuzzled her there.  She laughed at how cute and shy I was.  I slid the fabric to one side and finally tasted her, sliding my tongue over her delicious bits, kissing and licking.  She tastes so good, like seawater and copper and something sweet and secret that’s just…her.  And she was smooth and slippery under my tongue, as I licked and sucked and felt her react, the way she moved and pushed against me.  I asked if I could slip my fingers inside her, and she said I could try by that it’s not something she especially cares for, and the angles were wrong, so I stopped after a moment and went back to concentrating on using my mouth.  She wound her fingers in my hair, holding my mouth against her and grinding on my tongue.

While it seemed clear she was enjoying it, I know she doesn’t come from that sort of stimulation, so eventually I pulled back and passed her the Hitachi.  Then I got to lay back and watch.  She laughed and called me a creepy perv (or something similar), but I love watching her come.  After a few minutes, she moaned and her back arched and her skin flushed and she called out my name.  I put my hand on her shoulder, and several moments later she gasped that she was still coming.  It was a long, exciting-looking orgasm.  It was breathtakingly hot.

We cuddled and talked and munched on leftover takeout.  After a little while, she looked over at the new toy I had brought home a few days earlier–a remote-control vibrating butt plug.  (Ever since I wrote that post about wanting a good remote toy that could go in my butt, people have been giving me tips and toys.  It’s awesome!)  ”Want to try this thing out?” She asked.  Of course I said yes.  She put the batteries in the toy and put it together, and I reached for the lube.

I have not been doing very much anal play lately.  Long-time readers may recall a time when I was able to take a deep breath and just relax and take a fairly large plug easily.  Yeah.  That requires practice, and I seem to have lost the ability.  I lube up my fingers and worked on warming myself up.  Garnet spread me open and watched.  ”I like when you do that, Sir…” I said.

When I thought I was ready, I reached for the condomed plug and lubed it up.  It took a little work, and Garnet pressing the button on the remote (the vibration helped a lot), but the plug slid all the way into place.  I wriggled and moaned at the feeling of being full, at the vibration buzzing inside me.  Garnet pressed the button, and the vibration changed.  She did it again.  It worked!  She reached over and pushed against the base of the plug, and it was like a switch flipped in my brain.  I remember her offering me a vibe for my clit, which I took.  I remember her snapping a few pictures of the plug in my ass.  I remember her pushing against the base of the plug, and I remember begging her to fuck my ass until she grabbed my hips and ground herself against the base of the plug, pushing it just a little deeper, making me moan and cry out.  I remember the orgasm suddenly sweeping over me and saying “Oh, fuck, I’m coming,” without having the chance to ask for permission.  I am, however, not entirely clear on the order in which these things happened.

After I came, she played around withe the remote, testing its range.  We determined that it’s about ten feet.  Then she let me take the plug out.

Things are shifting between us.  I know she has scenes planned for parties that are happening in the next few weeks.  I know I’m finally going to get my ass beaten for all the typos I’ve made in texts to her, and here.  I love her, and I love that there’s both Girlfriend Time and that other sort of time, the kind where she owns me and is training me and is planning scary things.  I’m excited.

Posted in Uncategorized on January 7, 2012 by

New Years Day, Garnet and I were cuddling on the bed, sipping leftover champagne.  I think she may have been checking tumblr…I’m not sure…but either way, she was sitting up and I was lying on my side, wrapped around her.  She ran her hands over my legs, and somehow my skirt crept higher and higher up my thighs and soon she was stroking my thighs and ass, touching everywhere but avoiding my bits.

I could feel myself get wetter and more and more aroused as her fingers trailed over my skin, my skirt up around my hips by this point, still she carefully avoided all the places where I wanted to be touched most.  I whimpered occasionally, re-positioning my hips, trying to offer myself to her.  Eventually she brushed over my underwear, ever-so-lightly.  A few moments later, the touch came again.  Then more frequently.  She began stroking and pressing my clit through my panties, the occasionally slipping her fingers underneath.

It felt delicious.  Her fingers pushed against me and teased and swirled and stroked, occasionally pushing inside me.  It is a very rare thing for me to come from manual stimulation alone, but I was getting very close.

Garnet reached for the nearest vibe.  Now, one of the quirks of my anatomy is that the head of my clit is super, super sensitive.  And any sort of intense stimulation there feels good, but also kind of overwhelming.  It’s the sort of intensity I can’t quite decide whether I want to press up against or wriggle away from.  Garnet pressed the vibe right into that most sensitive spot.  I wriggled and moaned and whimpered and she held me in place, not letting up with the vibe.

It is also pretty much guaranteed that with enough stimulation to that spot that I will eventually squirt.  In the past, this has usually happened with a Hitachi, so it was a little different with the (still strong) battery-powered vibe Garnet was using on me.  I could feel myself getting…full.  My cunt felt fuller and sensitive and I was just way more aware of all of it, all its various bits and pieces.  And then…I let go.

“You squirted for me like a good girl!” Garnet purred, sounding delighted.  I beamed.

I rolled over, repositioning myself and still pushing against the vibe a little.  Garnet let up a bit on the vibe and moved it up, so it was sliding over my hood, and I moaned and ground against it.  She slipped her fingers into me, stroking my g-spot hard.  I kept getting close to coming, but wasn’t quite there.  I reached down towards the vibe.  ”May I?”  I asked.  She gave me permission, and I slid the vibe against myself while she occasionally fingered me until I asked if I could come.

After a moment, she said that I could, and I came hard, clenching around her fingers and shaking.  I got overwhelmed and pulled the vibrator away, but I couldn’t stop coming and shaking.  I had little aftershocks for several minutes, shaking again as little mini-spasms ran through me.

I also may have cried a bit, after I stopped shaking.  I get a little emotional sometimes, when I come that hard.

A Quickie

Posted in Uncategorized on January 5, 2012 by

I don’t think I would have done something as silly as put on the gown if I hadn’t been somewhat tipsy.

But I was tipsy and giggly on champagne (one thing I rediscovered this New Years–how much I love champagne), and so I thought I was being terribly clever and spontaneous and fun when I abruptly got up from snuggling on the bed with Garnet in post-orgasmic bliss, stripped off my dress, bra, and underwear, and put on my corset, bustle, and 1870s ball gown.

“Are you really that horny?” Garnet asked, as we have talked many times about her fucking me while I wear the gown.

“I’m just putting this on for my own entertainment,” I replied, giggling.

I tried to lounge on the bed for a bit (for those who’ve never worn one, a steel-boned corset is not especially conducive to lounging), and we somehow ended up watching the Jersey Shore Gone Wilde clips on youtube.  Garnet decided she wanted a grilled cheese sandwich, so I got up to make her one.

Cooking in the gown (and the corset) was obviously impractical.  ”You can take that off if you want,” Garnet said.  I reached for the hooks on the bodice, and before I could really start to undo them, she was up and across the room.  She kissed me hard, and began unfastening the bodice of the dress.

She alternated kissing me and biting me as she undressed me, pulling off my bodice, unclasping the overskirt and the underskirt and pulling them off, then untying my bustle and letting it drop.  I couldn’t decide which I wanted more–the bites or the kisses.

As she undid my corset and pulled it off of me, I wrapped my leg around her, trying to get closer.  She reached around and pushed her fingers into me, still kissing me, still biting me, pushing her fingers inside me until I was overwhelmed and collapsed on the floor.

I lay on the floor for a moment, she stood up and looked down at me, and smirked.  ”Now go make me a grilled cheese sandwich,” she said.

Not a resolution, but a plan…

Posted in Uncategorized on January 1, 2012 by

So I kind of took a little holiday break from blogging there.  Partly because so many things have happened kind of all at once.  I got promoted at my amazing job that I love, kind of twice?  And since I work in retail, the lead up to Christmas was more than a little hectic.  I thought I was going to have to stay in the City by myself for Christmas, because of work and logistics, but Garnet did the most ridiculously romantic thing ever and came here with a giant bag full of presents and a tiny tree and surprised me, then took me home with her to spend Christmas with her family.

Of course, because I’m a complete idiot, I had a huge breakdown the day after I got back to my apartment.  I won’t go into a lot of detail, but I was very, very upset and said a lot of stupid things about myself and how Garnet deserves better than me.  She replied that after Christmas, and all the impossibly sweet things she’d done to make my holiday special, it seemed like she just couldn’t make me happy.

And then I had one of those moments.  You know what it’s like when something clicks and suddenly you see this pattern, this thread that’s been running through your whole life?  Yeah.  I could suddenly hear every single person I’ve had a serious relationship with saying the same thing.  ”I don’t think I can make you happy.”

I feel like I’ve had a wake-up call.  Again.  In 2011, I wrote a post about realizing that I have never been consistently happy, and that external factors don’t seem to change that.  In 2012, I am putting a plan into action to change the internal factors.  It includes many things, like getting back into some sort of therapy, looking into herbal remedies for anxiety and depression, and a list of things I can do to calm down in the midst of a freak out.

I’m stressed and scared.  So much is going on right now, so much is changing.  I kind of wish it weren’t all happening simultaneously, but it’s not just scary and stressful, it’s really exciting, too.

Several years ago, the fall after I graduated from college, I knew I was dissatisfied with my life.  That first year after college is so hard for a lot of people, and I was very freaked out.  So I sat down and I made a list of all the things I was going to to to get my life in shape, and I did everything on the list.  Some of it (like finding a voice teacher or going to a particular audition) happened right away, while one thing in particular (learning to drive) took more than a year.  But I did it all.  And if I could do all the stuff on that list, I can do everything in my current plan to get my mental stuff and emotions in better shape.  I’m actually noticing a difference already.

Wish me luck!