What is sexiest: Short or Long?

This is a debate that has been going on for so long between women and men alike. It most recently came up for discussion when I chopped my shoulder length hair into a cute, super short pixie. Do I miss my hair? Am I going to grow it back out? Do I feel less feminine...all the way to asking me if I'm a lesbian?(the last one I laughed at as I am very much in love with Sir and have four children, so No, not a lesbian)

The answer to all of these questions is NO.

Take a look at the picture above. There is absolutely no doubt about how feminine and drop dead sexy this woman is. The short locks open up her features and actually make her sexier! The pixie did the same for me(minus the mile long legs on the model...heh heh). From some of the men I talked to, most asked Sir if He missed grabbing hold of my longer hair, to which He replied: "Absolutely NOT." He always said it got in the way and that He hated having to brush my hair out of the way to see my face. I find this amusing and a little ironic as Sir has hair down past His shoulders and I love it on Him.

It just goes to show that it isn't the length of you hair that makes you sexy or determines your sexuality. It's who you are. Did I look good with long hair? Sure! Do I feel more confident and sexy now? Absolutely. It would be the reverse for Sir. He hated it when His hair was cropped short and it showed in His demeanor.

He's not a stereotypical dirty hippy and I'm not a man hating feminist.

I say, to each their own. If you like long hair keep your hair long and vice versa.

What is your take on this age old debate?

How I've Missed You, Sir

"I'm ready. Crawl across the bed to me, girl."

I do this to be greeted with a bruising kiss and a tug on my hair to pull me upright.

"I've missed you, Sir," I say with a shiver.

"Remove your clothes, get on your knees and put you hands against the wall. Do NOT move."

He asks me how many I think I deserve and I falter. It has been so long and I'm certain I've been  very bad. I tell Him this and I'm sure He is smiling when He sets the number at 47 and tells me to count aloud.

Sir alternates between hand, paddle and the leather cat 9, making sunbursts on my ass and thighs.

Around number 28, my hands slip along the wall and Sir growls in displeasure. He then swings the paddle harder than He ever has, making me gasp as a wave of fire consumes me.

Then, suddenly, it stops.

"Bend over, lay your face on the floor and put your ass in the air as high as you can."

I hear Him rustling with something and feel His fingers sliding inside of me, adding to my wetness. The familiar buss of the Hitachi Wand causes a blush, especially when I realize He bought an attachment for it.

My whole body is vibrating and as much as I love this feeling, what I'm really craving is my Sir's cock driving into me in some way. It makes it hard for me to come, so He removes the attachment and turns the wand up full blast. He uses his knee to press it hard against my clit, and uses his hands to pin mine down.

"Do you like it, bliss? Do you like it when I force you to accept pleasure? Do you want me to shatter your self control? I want you to come until you can't move, screaming my name. Knowing that I am the ONLY one who can do this to you and for you!"

And I cum then, struggling in his grasp as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me. I feel His teeth on the back of my neck, His fingers sliding underneath the wand on my over-sensitive nub and then sliding in and out of me. I know His hand is slapping my already sore ass and that I am screaming....hovering in an orgasmic state that is more than pleasure, cumming so hard and so fast it hurts.

"Break, my love. Let me in," He growls into my ear. "Let your Master fill you up."

Before I know it, I have turned around and am vigorously suckling at my Master's cock. I don't remember the command. Only the intense desire to taste His seed and His skin. He tells me if I do well, I will be rewarded. I feel His legs start to shake and I know He is close.He throws me down and plunges into me. It is that moment that my whole being quakes and I see His strength nursing from my vulnerability. He is the snake coiling into the core of me. Beautiful and deadly. I am the womb cradling, and we are the Universe.

I don't know how long I lay against Him; Him cradling me and me cradling Him within. It seemed to me that I could see Sir behind closed lids, lovingly piecing me back together again. Hands once rough and torturous, now gentle. Voice gentle...a soothing balm.

Finally, I open my tired eyes and whisper,

"I love you, Sir."