The Eve
It was the night before Christmas and Tescos (Large supermarket) was packed, the cheesy lights were flashing, their seasonal message of greed and want as we stepped across the fresh-hold and entered the fray. Armed with a comprehensive list and two trolleys the annual trek began. Mistress leading the way with the smaller of the two carts, I obediently following behind. Now the big problem I normally encounter during this type of outing is that Mistress can get slightly exasperated with me, I'm never quite sure as to why, but She does; so I'm on tenterhooks.
After the initial jostling in the 1st Isle things became a little less crowded and the trolleys started to be filled. Eventually we reached the point where Mistress decided that it was easier to park the trolleys and me while She went a looked around. I ended up standing there for 20/30 minutes. As I'm Hers says in his brilliant log you have to get use to waiting as a Submissive. As some of you who kindly read my blog know; when I get a few minutes I like to people watch.
I was parked in the central Isle with a good view of the comings and goings. I couldn't help but notice that so many people were hurrying and scurrying back and forth with a permanent scowl set into their tired, stressed faces. A couple of teenage girls, twins I think, drifted past pushing a small trolly, half full of tasty treats. They were chatting and laughing, young, confident, full of their own world oblivious to everyone else. They made me smile, oh to be young again. During the next 10 mins they kept walking from one end to the other, not picking up anything up, just rapt up in their own private world. Eventually their Mother appeared and called for them to follow Her. This they did; leaving their trolly behind!
A middle aged couple bickered over biscuits versus nuts, Her blue rinse and flowery dress revealing Her to be older than first appearances would indicate. In the end he won the argument and nuts were the order of the day. He marched away head held high; pointed nose sore and Rudolf Red. She trailed behind a little sadder; a 4 foot 5 inch beaten lady with drooping shoulders, tired, resigned, drudged.
Some trolleys were full laden with just booze, others with the cheaper items, the special offers, the almost as good range. At least the people in there had the funds to buy some sort of Christmas. Others won't.
Mistress returned and we were off, instructions given, more items gathered. Finally I was told we had enough and the checkout loomed. Taking a different checkout from Mistress enabled us to process getting out of there faster. I could tell it was Xmas as Mistress helped load the car and even took the trolleys back!!!!
At home I finally wrapped presents and scribed my labels and the odd card just before Daughter number one arrived with Her other half. In She waddled all boobs, bum and bump. Up to now pregnancy hasn't suited Her, I have heard from more than one source that a Woman with child look radiant and bloom. It is with some disappointment I have to state that She had failed to live up to that fable up to now...... Well eat my words a few days had changed Her; She looked the perfect picture of pregnancy. We hugged a long warm embrace, Her tiny fingers scratching/tickling on my back, I kissed Her forehead and moved on to the boyfriend. I didn't kiss his forehead! There are some people in the world who can get excited about the smallest pleasure, DN1 is one of those special individuals, so Xmas is a great event for a Her.
We all went to the midnight service at our village church, following in the footsteps of 800 years of praise, worship, singing and how long is the Sermons going on for? Bells pealed, candles flickered and all was good with the world.
The Day.
This started later than other years, there were to be no visitors so we all lounged around in Jim-Jams. Present opening was a prolonged cheerful affair interspersed with choc croissants and fat boy sweets. I ran round with drinks, refills and wrapper paper clearing. Mistress had bought me a Collar/Neckless, almost tight to my neck, thick interwoven round chain links. To the uninitiated it's just a quirky neckless, to those in the know, say no more!
DN1 was a little concerned I hadn't seemed to bought any fit pressies for Her Mother, Mistress managed to cover up saying I'd given a Her cash. If fact I'd bought Her a very fine, glamorous PVC Corset, boned and not cheap or tarty looking, ensuring an ensemble
of sensual, visual excellence to be worn at our next Femdom event.
It was just a veg day, relaxed, chilled, almost the perfect Xmas day. The only minor hiatus
was when DN1 mentioned that we would have a little one crawling around in the lounge next year. Her other half looked surprised and mentioned that he thought that they would be with his family next year. She just looked at him with that look and said "No!" We kept out of it, I did defuse the situation when I pointed out that there were over 356 days to make a decision, however I got the feeling that the decision had been made and set in stone. Watch this space!
Just because it was Xmas didn't stop my chores and I ended up washing up by hand four times! Plus two lots of dishwasher loading and unloading. Not complaining mind, just noting.
In some ways the DS disappeared, or took a back seat, I wasn't told to do that boy! Or fetch that Boy. In many ways I prefer to be ordered and called boy.... In others I prefer a please boy or thank you boy......It depends how Dominant Mistress is feeling at the time on how I am addressed. But overall I prefer being called boy, it makes me feel instantly more submissive and obedient to Mistress.
I've taken a few days away from my blog, so sorry to anyone who keeps coming back to check on it. I know I do check femdom 101 and I'm Hers regularly along with others.
I will try to be more punctual.
My New Years message is if your a Domme, Dom......if your a sub, sub..... And if your neither what the hell are you doing reading this lol.
Happy New Year
m
Tuesday 30 December 2014
Sunday 14 December 2014
Friday's Child is Full of Grace
There are some Friday's that are dead and others that are manic. This Friday was the latter, so the day was hectic to say the least.
After morning service (Coffee and Cereal etc ) I left Mistress slumbering while I drove off into the bleak, cold murky morning. The light was as bright as a Politicians Integrity, so I had the headlights on. I couldn't help but reflect that the time line of ones life is littered with disasters and regrets, maybe it was the gloom and dismal rain that had darkened my mood. I wondered what my biggest regret would be? Not meeting Mistress at an earlier age must rank at or near to the top of my Xmas tree, nibbling at the Angels Feet no doubt.
I use to be an half glass sort of guy, you know half full or empty depending on the facts of the day. Now I'm just glad and happy to have a glass; and, who doesn't give two hoots if it's full or empty. Oh to be wise........well maybe one day!
One of my other regrets is modern day Feminism. Ok please close the gapping jaw.
Yes I know I love to submit and serve Woman, to me it's natural. Should both sexes be paid the same amount for doing the same job to the same standard? Yep that's a no brainer. Should Woman be treated far better than many are now? Absolutely!
I think my problem with it is the automatic aggression that seems to go hand in hand with so many Feminists. And it's not just the Ladies who are aggressive, men who are pro-feminist can be even worse. It's the verbal onslaughts that get me. Number one daughter and Her other half both suffer with this affliction, I know they are young and full of black and white opinions and ideals; but like so many they fail to see their vehement shoutings often do more harm than good. A balanced, reasoned, informed conversation makes a far better inroad.
I'm never sure what they really want, they claim equality is their goal, that is of course impossible, I could never be equal to Mistress, nor do I want to. I am Hers, I wonder if Feminists would disapprove? Would they understand? Could they understand?
I have come to the conclusion that FLR/M is far more valuable and precious. It's a more honourable and loving thing. It is in my opinion a far more natural way to live. Most children, as they grow up; are cared for and raised by their Mother. It is better if they are raised by both parents but now a days it is becoming more common for just the Mother to be around. This is a shame. But either way it tends to be the Mother who; until say the child is 9 or 10 has the most influence on them.
It is hard for a Woman to go against common perceptions and traditions, but think if more Woman were the head of the house hold and I'm not talking about the whips and chains bit, the more chance of that family being happier and grounded. I have learnt that Women want different things to men. Mainly they are less competitive and greedy (that is most but not all of course). They want to be safe, warm, with their offspring nurtured and happy.
The big question I have to ask myself would boys be less aggressive? Hopefully.
Would society be better off, ditto.
Anyway back to my busy Friday, the jobs kept piling in, the lads and I flitter around like bees on sugared-cracked-honey. My first three jobs all involved dealing with retired members of the public. Customers one and two both gasped as I gave them the bill, most old people do this even if it's free, I think they have been conditioned to be that way, TV or other Media being the guilty influence. Then I get the same tired winge, " I'm a poor old pensioner you know" or any discount for pensioners?" In both cases the large houses and shiny cars standing outside kind of killed any sympathy I might have felt. I just smile, thanked them and moved on. The third was an old codger I had done business with before. It started as it always done with him with a phone call. He took the normal 5 minutes telling me what had gone wrong, what he had tried to do to fix it and then demanded to know what was wrong and how could he fix it. As my crystal ball had flat batteries I didn't have a clue. The problem is that this old curmudgeon wouldn't accept this. He just kept asking can he fix it without me attending. In the end I got a little irritated with him and snapped back that if he knew what was wrong he could fix it himself, if not I would have to come out and have a look, and yes it would cost him. He started to ask again and I made it clear if he wanted me out to say so, if not to leave me alone. "OK I suppose you'd better come" came the truculent response.
As I arrived at one of the more expensive villages in my area I drove up the lane lined with Privet and Cotswold Stone Walls before turning into the drive of a modern red bricked two storey detached house. He rushed out to greet me.......no sorry.....meet me, there was no greeting, he wasn't happy to see me.... As I got out of the car he lunched into the same boring tale, his combed over white hair flapping in the breeze. He bobbed up and down excitedly while tightly gripping the outside of one hand with the palm of the other. Finally I got him to shut up and point me in the direction of the Unit. Ten minutes later I'd fixed it, power restored, all systems go; so to say.
As I filled out my report/bill while standing in the kitchen, a lime green affair with cheap looking wooden cabinets he yet again tried to get me to say I could have told him how to fix it over the phone. I couldn't, also I could not have changed the two parts that needed to be changed over the phone. I handed him the bill, his nostrils flared, white uncut hair protruded from each nostril. I waited for the usual old mans comments.......and for once they didn't come. He wrote out a cheque, signed my paperwork and thrust it at me. I thanked him and took it. It's then I made a small error, I pointed out that most old people moan as they hand over their payment.
He was off like a dog on heat, rampant and full of tension. He shook and quivered as he spoke, launching into a tirade of how hard it was for "Poor old pensioners". My charges were Exorbitant and Ridiculous. I pointed out...... Unwisely.....that he lived in a nice, modern house and had a brand new Mercedes parked in the drive. Spittle splayed from his mean pale lips as he said "it's paying the likes of you that stops me getting the next model up in the range". My blood rose a tad and customer service left the building.............unfortunately I didn't depart with it. I countered that N1D was due to have a baby soon and She and Her other half had just managed to move into a rented Maisonette with one and a half bedrooms. We're helping them out by the way. I explained that the Daughters other half worked long and awkward hours and She could no longer work as She was expecting. I pointed out that they didn't have a posh car or a nice house but they should be entitled to a reasonable standing of living, so that they could raise a family. He didn't quite say that they shouldn't have had a baby as they possible could not fully afford it but it was on the tip of his tongue, that I'm sure of. Incidentally if he had I would have flattened him. Anyway I dragged my knuckles of the ground and headed for the door. As I stepped over the pile of shoes I couldn't help but notice that there were only man size footwear present. Last time I was there a very nice Lady who gave me Tea and Cake (it was a small piece Mistress, honest).....over the years I have become use to reading the signs, death, divorce, holiday etc. I flicked my eyes around the hall, men's coats only, no photos on the bookcase this was at best a separation, at worse divorce. I know I shouldn't but I just couldn't help myself as I asked "Wife out today" (ok I'm not proud of it now) he scowled and snapped "She's gone to live with my daughter". He paused for a second and continued "That bitch has turned Her against me". His face turned rosy red apple red. I left, not to sure if the Daughter had turned the Mother against him or the other way round.
Maybe one of them was a Feminist!
m
After morning service (Coffee and Cereal etc ) I left Mistress slumbering while I drove off into the bleak, cold murky morning. The light was as bright as a Politicians Integrity, so I had the headlights on. I couldn't help but reflect that the time line of ones life is littered with disasters and regrets, maybe it was the gloom and dismal rain that had darkened my mood. I wondered what my biggest regret would be? Not meeting Mistress at an earlier age must rank at or near to the top of my Xmas tree, nibbling at the Angels Feet no doubt.
I use to be an half glass sort of guy, you know half full or empty depending on the facts of the day. Now I'm just glad and happy to have a glass; and, who doesn't give two hoots if it's full or empty. Oh to be wise........well maybe one day!
One of my other regrets is modern day Feminism. Ok please close the gapping jaw.
Yes I know I love to submit and serve Woman, to me it's natural. Should both sexes be paid the same amount for doing the same job to the same standard? Yep that's a no brainer. Should Woman be treated far better than many are now? Absolutely!
I think my problem with it is the automatic aggression that seems to go hand in hand with so many Feminists. And it's not just the Ladies who are aggressive, men who are pro-feminist can be even worse. It's the verbal onslaughts that get me. Number one daughter and Her other half both suffer with this affliction, I know they are young and full of black and white opinions and ideals; but like so many they fail to see their vehement shoutings often do more harm than good. A balanced, reasoned, informed conversation makes a far better inroad.
I'm never sure what they really want, they claim equality is their goal, that is of course impossible, I could never be equal to Mistress, nor do I want to. I am Hers, I wonder if Feminists would disapprove? Would they understand? Could they understand?
I have come to the conclusion that FLR/M is far more valuable and precious. It's a more honourable and loving thing. It is in my opinion a far more natural way to live. Most children, as they grow up; are cared for and raised by their Mother. It is better if they are raised by both parents but now a days it is becoming more common for just the Mother to be around. This is a shame. But either way it tends to be the Mother who; until say the child is 9 or 10 has the most influence on them.
It is hard for a Woman to go against common perceptions and traditions, but think if more Woman were the head of the house hold and I'm not talking about the whips and chains bit, the more chance of that family being happier and grounded. I have learnt that Women want different things to men. Mainly they are less competitive and greedy (that is most but not all of course). They want to be safe, warm, with their offspring nurtured and happy.
The big question I have to ask myself would boys be less aggressive? Hopefully.
Would society be better off, ditto.
Anyway back to my busy Friday, the jobs kept piling in, the lads and I flitter around like bees on sugared-cracked-honey. My first three jobs all involved dealing with retired members of the public. Customers one and two both gasped as I gave them the bill, most old people do this even if it's free, I think they have been conditioned to be that way, TV or other Media being the guilty influence. Then I get the same tired winge, " I'm a poor old pensioner you know" or any discount for pensioners?" In both cases the large houses and shiny cars standing outside kind of killed any sympathy I might have felt. I just smile, thanked them and moved on. The third was an old codger I had done business with before. It started as it always done with him with a phone call. He took the normal 5 minutes telling me what had gone wrong, what he had tried to do to fix it and then demanded to know what was wrong and how could he fix it. As my crystal ball had flat batteries I didn't have a clue. The problem is that this old curmudgeon wouldn't accept this. He just kept asking can he fix it without me attending. In the end I got a little irritated with him and snapped back that if he knew what was wrong he could fix it himself, if not I would have to come out and have a look, and yes it would cost him. He started to ask again and I made it clear if he wanted me out to say so, if not to leave me alone. "OK I suppose you'd better come" came the truculent response.
As I arrived at one of the more expensive villages in my area I drove up the lane lined with Privet and Cotswold Stone Walls before turning into the drive of a modern red bricked two storey detached house. He rushed out to greet me.......no sorry.....meet me, there was no greeting, he wasn't happy to see me.... As I got out of the car he lunched into the same boring tale, his combed over white hair flapping in the breeze. He bobbed up and down excitedly while tightly gripping the outside of one hand with the palm of the other. Finally I got him to shut up and point me in the direction of the Unit. Ten minutes later I'd fixed it, power restored, all systems go; so to say.
As I filled out my report/bill while standing in the kitchen, a lime green affair with cheap looking wooden cabinets he yet again tried to get me to say I could have told him how to fix it over the phone. I couldn't, also I could not have changed the two parts that needed to be changed over the phone. I handed him the bill, his nostrils flared, white uncut hair protruded from each nostril. I waited for the usual old mans comments.......and for once they didn't come. He wrote out a cheque, signed my paperwork and thrust it at me. I thanked him and took it. It's then I made a small error, I pointed out that most old people moan as they hand over their payment.
He was off like a dog on heat, rampant and full of tension. He shook and quivered as he spoke, launching into a tirade of how hard it was for "Poor old pensioners". My charges were Exorbitant and Ridiculous. I pointed out...... Unwisely.....that he lived in a nice, modern house and had a brand new Mercedes parked in the drive. Spittle splayed from his mean pale lips as he said "it's paying the likes of you that stops me getting the next model up in the range". My blood rose a tad and customer service left the building.............unfortunately I didn't depart with it. I countered that N1D was due to have a baby soon and She and Her other half had just managed to move into a rented Maisonette with one and a half bedrooms. We're helping them out by the way. I explained that the Daughters other half worked long and awkward hours and She could no longer work as She was expecting. I pointed out that they didn't have a posh car or a nice house but they should be entitled to a reasonable standing of living, so that they could raise a family. He didn't quite say that they shouldn't have had a baby as they possible could not fully afford it but it was on the tip of his tongue, that I'm sure of. Incidentally if he had I would have flattened him. Anyway I dragged my knuckles of the ground and headed for the door. As I stepped over the pile of shoes I couldn't help but notice that there were only man size footwear present. Last time I was there a very nice Lady who gave me Tea and Cake (it was a small piece Mistress, honest).....over the years I have become use to reading the signs, death, divorce, holiday etc. I flicked my eyes around the hall, men's coats only, no photos on the bookcase this was at best a separation, at worse divorce. I know I shouldn't but I just couldn't help myself as I asked "Wife out today" (ok I'm not proud of it now) he scowled and snapped "She's gone to live with my daughter". He paused for a second and continued "That bitch has turned Her against me". His face turned rosy red apple red. I left, not to sure if the Daughter had turned the Mother against him or the other way round.
Maybe one of them was a Feminist!
m
Wednesday 10 December 2014
Spoon a spoon a kingdom for a spoon
Should all Dominant Woman experience being the other side of the counter? That was the rather disturbing thought that couldn't help seeping into my mind In between my yelling and dare I say possible screams that leaked out of my gritted teeth the other day.
We had gone to "Devotions" a Femdom play event that I have mentioned before. It was not as well attended as last time, in fact there seemed to be more Ladies than subs. As usual the Ladies had all made a wonderful effort, smart, attractive, sensual. The event commenced with a Ladies Tea Party as before. The same TV Maid as last time presented herself and enquired what Madam would like; after Mistress had rung the dainty hand bell that sat on the round table. Tea and cake was ordered, the maid curtsied and went in search of the vitals.
I would like to say shortly afterwards the Tea arrived, but I'd be wrong, there was in fact quite a long wait. I know this to be true as I was kneeling by the table at Mistresses feet. Oh my poor knees! Mistress engaged me in light conversation and took the wait with good grace. Incidentally I would have never got away with such a delay. Eventually the Tea and Cake arrived, the Cake sorry Cakes looked fab. Cupcakes, Custard Slices, Profiteroles perched provocatively on the two tier Cake Stand. All was looking dandy until the Tea arrived. Cup and Saucer, fine, half full, not so fine. No spoon, ugggg,
No sugar, blimey! The cup handle on the wrong side, slap the head moment. This happened last time. I knew Mistress would say something ...... And She did. The TV maid reduced to a bundle of nerves knew she had mucked up again, fled to find a spoon.
When the maid retreated a second time Mistress tucked in. She informed me the cake was delicious, Her eyes were gleaming as She looked down at me. I then had to beg like a dog, paws up, mouth open, little morsels were hand fed to me. I love this intimacy and bonding. The bell was tinkled again and the maid returned with a half curtsy, more of a bob, and more tea was ordered. This duly arrived......no spoon!!!!!!! I though Mistress was going to flip but She just smiled a resigned smile. The maid moved on, fortunately leaving the 1st cup and saucer on the table, why! Reaching across I picked up the old spoon and looked at Mistress, She nodded and I stirred. Equilibrium restored.
After Mistress had quenched Her thirst we moved down to the main room, bondage equipment was positioned on what was evidently normally the dance floor, there were the standard crosses and spanking benches. The Lady who had kindly organised the event likes to start it off with an ice-breaker game that involves as many Ladies and subs as possible. The Ladies were asked to sit on one of the chairs that looked outwards in a circle. The subs had to walk around the circle until the music stopped (sort of pass the parcel). When the music ceased the subs were required to go over the knee of the nearest Lady and take a 20 to 30 second spanking. After a few rounds a Lady and Her chair were removed and the sub that couldn't get spanked next time the music stopped was out. I lasted quite a long time. Some Ladies were gentle and just tapped away, others were to say a little more intense. It became clear to me some of these wonderful Woman could if they chose give one a dammed good hiding. One poor boy must have been new to it and squealed away.
There then followed a Santa's Stocking, Mistress had entered me in the "Over the knee Spanking". You guessed it I got lucky! My name was called, it turned out the Lady who was running the event was to give me the spanking. Over I went and off She went, I had between 80 to 100 spanks, She knew Her stuff, afterwards I curtsied, thanked Her and left with a warm glow. Mistress had not been idle and had been busy handing out Her own spanking to another lucky soul who got picked from the stocking.
After the ice-breakers the arena began to be filled up by Ladies keen to play with their property. Soon the all to familiar sounds of leather on flesh and little moans/cries were audible. The background music played and Mistress started to get itchy. As I've said before in mixed BDSM events Mistress does not feel the need/drive to play, here it was different and I was soon commanded over a spanking bench, it had a broad strap the was buckled around the small of my back, but there appeared to be no way to secure my hands or ankles. "You will just have to hang-on" I was advised. The warmup started, smack, smack, smack, then the paddle. Normally at home Mistress takes Her time and really warms me up, this time, maybe because She had already been in action She moved onto the Heavy Strap really quickly. Because of the background noise communication between us was hard, not impossible, but difficult. I struggled it was hard and I thrashed around a lot. Suddenly She grabbed me by the crotch, squeezed as hard as She could and physically lifted my lower half back onto the bench. Obviously I had moved off as I tried to escape the beating. Mistress then put Her weight onto my back and carried on. I suddenly found I was slipping away into subspace. Mistress knows me too well didn't want to allow this so finger nails were dug into my nether regions. As I said at the start this is when this stupid idea dropped into my head, I mulled this over between gritting my teeth and squealing. Eventually I ended up begging. Normally Mistress will grant mercy at this point but the Sadist in Her won and I had to endure 6 from each of the implements She had to hand. Abruptly it ceased, I was very relieved but conscious I hadn't covered myself in glory. Many subs heroically take it all without a murmur. Personally I always feel you should let the Lady know She's hitting the spot so to say. Kneeling before Her kissing Her calve high shiny patent lace up boots (which incidentally take ages to lace up!) I was grateful for Her attention, control and love, but boy my butt was on fire!
We retired to the seating area after I wiped down the bench with anti-septic wipes. I needed a moment and some water. Mistress was happy as someone who's lost a dime and found a dollar.
She then bumped into an old acquaintance who had started out in the scene as a sub girl but had as we discovered come to Her senses and become Domme. She was still quite new to it and by Her own admission still learning. Mistress and Her talked about technique and safety, you know SSC. There came a point when I was asked for my input. I recommended that if She played with a new partner and or implement that She asks for a number between 1 and 10 after the first stroke. 1 being almost a tickle and 10 being a "your killing me, stop". This will give Her a good bases of how to proceed during the scene. The thing I thought was the most important thing to take onboard was that the number would almost certainly change on a daily bases. The sub maybe stressed, dehydrated, relaxed, tired, happy etc, this always changes the pain threshold. The Lady was pleased with this gem and said She would take it up.
The TV maid I had mentioned earlier came into view and Mistress called her over. Shortly afterwards the maid found herself over Mistresses knee and got a full on spanking. On conclusion Mistress checked the maid was ok and went off to the rest room. I chatted away to the maid who was beaming, I gently pointed out that if she wanted Mistress to ever interact with her again the Tea Service next time would need to be perfect. The maid looked a little confused as to why. I explained that if the service was mucked up Mistress would assume that the TV was doing it deliberately to get a spank. In that case Mistress would feel that the Micky was being taken and would never touch her again.
Mistress wanted to use the electric box on me, but after looking at me for a few seconds sighed and accepted that maybe I'd not be up to another play, I love Her for caring and not pushing me when maybe others would.
A little later as the event wound down we said our goodbyes and left.
Later that evening Mistress got a very polite email from the TV thanking Mistress and promising that the teas service in February would be perfect. I was pleased as I know that Mistress will be happy with that outcome.
I wonder what wacky thoughts will drop by next time!
m
We had gone to "Devotions" a Femdom play event that I have mentioned before. It was not as well attended as last time, in fact there seemed to be more Ladies than subs. As usual the Ladies had all made a wonderful effort, smart, attractive, sensual. The event commenced with a Ladies Tea Party as before. The same TV Maid as last time presented herself and enquired what Madam would like; after Mistress had rung the dainty hand bell that sat on the round table. Tea and cake was ordered, the maid curtsied and went in search of the vitals.
I would like to say shortly afterwards the Tea arrived, but I'd be wrong, there was in fact quite a long wait. I know this to be true as I was kneeling by the table at Mistresses feet. Oh my poor knees! Mistress engaged me in light conversation and took the wait with good grace. Incidentally I would have never got away with such a delay. Eventually the Tea and Cake arrived, the Cake sorry Cakes looked fab. Cupcakes, Custard Slices, Profiteroles perched provocatively on the two tier Cake Stand. All was looking dandy until the Tea arrived. Cup and Saucer, fine, half full, not so fine. No spoon, ugggg,
No sugar, blimey! The cup handle on the wrong side, slap the head moment. This happened last time. I knew Mistress would say something ...... And She did. The TV maid reduced to a bundle of nerves knew she had mucked up again, fled to find a spoon.
When the maid retreated a second time Mistress tucked in. She informed me the cake was delicious, Her eyes were gleaming as She looked down at me. I then had to beg like a dog, paws up, mouth open, little morsels were hand fed to me. I love this intimacy and bonding. The bell was tinkled again and the maid returned with a half curtsy, more of a bob, and more tea was ordered. This duly arrived......no spoon!!!!!!! I though Mistress was going to flip but She just smiled a resigned smile. The maid moved on, fortunately leaving the 1st cup and saucer on the table, why! Reaching across I picked up the old spoon and looked at Mistress, She nodded and I stirred. Equilibrium restored.
After Mistress had quenched Her thirst we moved down to the main room, bondage equipment was positioned on what was evidently normally the dance floor, there were the standard crosses and spanking benches. The Lady who had kindly organised the event likes to start it off with an ice-breaker game that involves as many Ladies and subs as possible. The Ladies were asked to sit on one of the chairs that looked outwards in a circle. The subs had to walk around the circle until the music stopped (sort of pass the parcel). When the music ceased the subs were required to go over the knee of the nearest Lady and take a 20 to 30 second spanking. After a few rounds a Lady and Her chair were removed and the sub that couldn't get spanked next time the music stopped was out. I lasted quite a long time. Some Ladies were gentle and just tapped away, others were to say a little more intense. It became clear to me some of these wonderful Woman could if they chose give one a dammed good hiding. One poor boy must have been new to it and squealed away.
There then followed a Santa's Stocking, Mistress had entered me in the "Over the knee Spanking". You guessed it I got lucky! My name was called, it turned out the Lady who was running the event was to give me the spanking. Over I went and off She went, I had between 80 to 100 spanks, She knew Her stuff, afterwards I curtsied, thanked Her and left with a warm glow. Mistress had not been idle and had been busy handing out Her own spanking to another lucky soul who got picked from the stocking.
After the ice-breakers the arena began to be filled up by Ladies keen to play with their property. Soon the all to familiar sounds of leather on flesh and little moans/cries were audible. The background music played and Mistress started to get itchy. As I've said before in mixed BDSM events Mistress does not feel the need/drive to play, here it was different and I was soon commanded over a spanking bench, it had a broad strap the was buckled around the small of my back, but there appeared to be no way to secure my hands or ankles. "You will just have to hang-on" I was advised. The warmup started, smack, smack, smack, then the paddle. Normally at home Mistress takes Her time and really warms me up, this time, maybe because She had already been in action She moved onto the Heavy Strap really quickly. Because of the background noise communication between us was hard, not impossible, but difficult. I struggled it was hard and I thrashed around a lot. Suddenly She grabbed me by the crotch, squeezed as hard as She could and physically lifted my lower half back onto the bench. Obviously I had moved off as I tried to escape the beating. Mistress then put Her weight onto my back and carried on. I suddenly found I was slipping away into subspace. Mistress knows me too well didn't want to allow this so finger nails were dug into my nether regions. As I said at the start this is when this stupid idea dropped into my head, I mulled this over between gritting my teeth and squealing. Eventually I ended up begging. Normally Mistress will grant mercy at this point but the Sadist in Her won and I had to endure 6 from each of the implements She had to hand. Abruptly it ceased, I was very relieved but conscious I hadn't covered myself in glory. Many subs heroically take it all without a murmur. Personally I always feel you should let the Lady know She's hitting the spot so to say. Kneeling before Her kissing Her calve high shiny patent lace up boots (which incidentally take ages to lace up!) I was grateful for Her attention, control and love, but boy my butt was on fire!
We retired to the seating area after I wiped down the bench with anti-septic wipes. I needed a moment and some water. Mistress was happy as someone who's lost a dime and found a dollar.
She then bumped into an old acquaintance who had started out in the scene as a sub girl but had as we discovered come to Her senses and become Domme. She was still quite new to it and by Her own admission still learning. Mistress and Her talked about technique and safety, you know SSC. There came a point when I was asked for my input. I recommended that if She played with a new partner and or implement that She asks for a number between 1 and 10 after the first stroke. 1 being almost a tickle and 10 being a "your killing me, stop". This will give Her a good bases of how to proceed during the scene. The thing I thought was the most important thing to take onboard was that the number would almost certainly change on a daily bases. The sub maybe stressed, dehydrated, relaxed, tired, happy etc, this always changes the pain threshold. The Lady was pleased with this gem and said She would take it up.
The TV maid I had mentioned earlier came into view and Mistress called her over. Shortly afterwards the maid found herself over Mistresses knee and got a full on spanking. On conclusion Mistress checked the maid was ok and went off to the rest room. I chatted away to the maid who was beaming, I gently pointed out that if she wanted Mistress to ever interact with her again the Tea Service next time would need to be perfect. The maid looked a little confused as to why. I explained that if the service was mucked up Mistress would assume that the TV was doing it deliberately to get a spank. In that case Mistress would feel that the Micky was being taken and would never touch her again.
Mistress wanted to use the electric box on me, but after looking at me for a few seconds sighed and accepted that maybe I'd not be up to another play, I love Her for caring and not pushing me when maybe others would.
A little later as the event wound down we said our goodbyes and left.
Later that evening Mistress got a very polite email from the TV thanking Mistress and promising that the teas service in February would be perfect. I was pleased as I know that Mistress will be happy with that outcome.
I wonder what wacky thoughts will drop by next time!
m
Thursday 27 November 2014
Questions on Femdom
Reading others blogs I'm always amazed and surprised at the diversity of views and points.
In the main I read, not without any shock to anyone, blogs that involve Femdom. Femdom in fact seems to cover a wide variety of needs, expectations and maybe bloody-mindedness to the point of obsession.
Men seem to list and almost demand their needs, wants, without little recourse or thought to the Domme. What I find truly amazing that so many Woman come to accept their husbands/partners
craving and take an active part.
Some callings to serve are purely in a domestic setting, completing chores, waiting, helping. Add then Chastity and maybe some spanking and you start to reach what so many men appear to need/hope for.
In my case things go a lot further, so this leads me to the question why do Woman; who have never thought about Femdom manage to make the connection? Mistress was Mistress before I met Her, She was clear in Her own mind what She wanted, required, expected. Reading the very well written blogs by Femdom101 and I'm Hers I feel in both cases the Ladies had to step up to the mark. I may be wrong, but that's how I read it.
In both cases what an amazing act of love and care!
But apart from from keeping their relationships stable and maybe alive do they really get the
life/relationship they signed up for when they first met their mate.
If they were not into Femdom before, did they grow into it. Would they hate to go back to how it was before, or would it be a relief to return to so called "normality"
Having had a taste/experience of the Femdom life, do they wish they had grown up in a Female Led Household?
Would they prefer that the Femdom path they now follow was slightly different to the one they are currently on?
I guess I could tie myself up in knots; which is not a good thing for a sub to do without permission.
I would welcome anyone's thoughts on this.
m
In the main I read, not without any shock to anyone, blogs that involve Femdom. Femdom in fact seems to cover a wide variety of needs, expectations and maybe bloody-mindedness to the point of obsession.
Men seem to list and almost demand their needs, wants, without little recourse or thought to the Domme. What I find truly amazing that so many Woman come to accept their husbands/partners
craving and take an active part.
Some callings to serve are purely in a domestic setting, completing chores, waiting, helping. Add then Chastity and maybe some spanking and you start to reach what so many men appear to need/hope for.
In my case things go a lot further, so this leads me to the question why do Woman; who have never thought about Femdom manage to make the connection? Mistress was Mistress before I met Her, She was clear in Her own mind what She wanted, required, expected. Reading the very well written blogs by Femdom101 and I'm Hers I feel in both cases the Ladies had to step up to the mark. I may be wrong, but that's how I read it.
In both cases what an amazing act of love and care!
But apart from from keeping their relationships stable and maybe alive do they really get the
life/relationship they signed up for when they first met their mate.
If they were not into Femdom before, did they grow into it. Would they hate to go back to how it was before, or would it be a relief to return to so called "normality"
Having had a taste/experience of the Femdom life, do they wish they had grown up in a Female Led Household?
Would they prefer that the Femdom path they now follow was slightly different to the one they are currently on?
I guess I could tie myself up in knots; which is not a good thing for a sub to do without permission.
I would welcome anyone's thoughts on this.
m
Saturday 22 November 2014
Tea for Two?
Sometimes life, or in this case death gets in the way of blogging, playing and serving. Ummmm not sure they were in the correct order. The standard chores have been completed and protocols
In the main observed. Sometimes I wish Mistress was stricter with the curtseying and other times I'm glad She's not.
Work has been manic, the Xmas rush has arrived full on. I've had to take a day off work just so Mistress could have a day of service and play. What a play, three hours of domination, control and submission. Since we have become empty nesters a spare bedroom has been left sparse, this means it can be converted quickly into a playroom. Currently we have a bondage chair and a cock and balls stocks. We need a collapsable spanking bench to complete the set.
Because I had taken the extra day off Mistress decided that we would use an afternoon tea voucher I had been given for my birthday, She phoned through the reservation and we were set. The plush swanky hotel was about 3/4 of an hours drive away. Funnily enough I had done some work there about 20 odd years ago. It was interesting to return and see the changes.....Old. Cherry Wood and polish lingered in the air. I'm always nervous going to this sort of thing, it's a bit posher and showier than I am, normally I wouldn't choose this sort of venue, it's just not me...... What really set me on edge was that we were using a voucher, ok I know it was a present and all that, but I always stress a bit in that sort of environment, I would have rather paid the bill and not used the voucher. Mistress of course was having none of it. We duly were seated at an oval table with a starched white cloth, the Seats were extra large, colourful old persons high back soft furnished affairs that you just sank into so that the table was 2 inches too high to eat from. An Eastern European waiter swept into view and plonked down a teapot and a hot water pot. I handed over the voucher, he took it and left us. Was that a look of scorn? Shortly afterwards another man appeared carrying a three tier silver plater loaded with cakes, scones, a jelly shot glass for each of us and some very dainty sandwiches, no crusts, small and neat. After I had poured the tea we tucked in. We've been together many years, funnily enough we still have much to say to each other, I can still get Her to laugh. Sometimes there are long silences between us, but that's fine we are happy just to be together in each other's company.
Mistress sat looking what She is, classy, feminine, truly wonderful, I'm so lucky. The surroundings of old wooden panelling, rich tapestries, log fire and subdued lights suited Her. I kept thinking I should have been naked, kneeling at Her feet, collar round my neck, serving Her, being fed titbits from Her hand.
Sometimes when we play Mistress will ask if I want a drink, if I say yes She takes a large sip from a glass of squash, plants Her lips to mine and I drink from Her lips. It's a very intense experience full of trust, love and dominance. It bonds me closer to Her, being dependent for my basic needs strengthens my submission to Her.
Frequently I have thought that a sub should be fed by his Mistress by Her hand, the bonding ritual of need and giving cementing the relationship in a spiritual as well as a physically way bringing us closer together. I have always imagined that I should be naked at Her feet, my hands secured behind my back. Mistress sitting, I watch Her eating first, then She picks up my bowl and spoon and feeds me. Controlling what I eat, how fast I eat, me completely dependent, owned, loved.
I'm of the belief this should happen as often as practical, but at least once a week.
We are off to another Femdomme event soon, maybe I will get to serve a Mistress tea and cake followed by lashings of fun!
m
In the main observed. Sometimes I wish Mistress was stricter with the curtseying and other times I'm glad She's not.
Work has been manic, the Xmas rush has arrived full on. I've had to take a day off work just so Mistress could have a day of service and play. What a play, three hours of domination, control and submission. Since we have become empty nesters a spare bedroom has been left sparse, this means it can be converted quickly into a playroom. Currently we have a bondage chair and a cock and balls stocks. We need a collapsable spanking bench to complete the set.
Because I had taken the extra day off Mistress decided that we would use an afternoon tea voucher I had been given for my birthday, She phoned through the reservation and we were set. The plush swanky hotel was about 3/4 of an hours drive away. Funnily enough I had done some work there about 20 odd years ago. It was interesting to return and see the changes.....Old. Cherry Wood and polish lingered in the air. I'm always nervous going to this sort of thing, it's a bit posher and showier than I am, normally I wouldn't choose this sort of venue, it's just not me...... What really set me on edge was that we were using a voucher, ok I know it was a present and all that, but I always stress a bit in that sort of environment, I would have rather paid the bill and not used the voucher. Mistress of course was having none of it. We duly were seated at an oval table with a starched white cloth, the Seats were extra large, colourful old persons high back soft furnished affairs that you just sank into so that the table was 2 inches too high to eat from. An Eastern European waiter swept into view and plonked down a teapot and a hot water pot. I handed over the voucher, he took it and left us. Was that a look of scorn? Shortly afterwards another man appeared carrying a three tier silver plater loaded with cakes, scones, a jelly shot glass for each of us and some very dainty sandwiches, no crusts, small and neat. After I had poured the tea we tucked in. We've been together many years, funnily enough we still have much to say to each other, I can still get Her to laugh. Sometimes there are long silences between us, but that's fine we are happy just to be together in each other's company.
Mistress sat looking what She is, classy, feminine, truly wonderful, I'm so lucky. The surroundings of old wooden panelling, rich tapestries, log fire and subdued lights suited Her. I kept thinking I should have been naked, kneeling at Her feet, collar round my neck, serving Her, being fed titbits from Her hand.
Sometimes when we play Mistress will ask if I want a drink, if I say yes She takes a large sip from a glass of squash, plants Her lips to mine and I drink from Her lips. It's a very intense experience full of trust, love and dominance. It bonds me closer to Her, being dependent for my basic needs strengthens my submission to Her.
Frequently I have thought that a sub should be fed by his Mistress by Her hand, the bonding ritual of need and giving cementing the relationship in a spiritual as well as a physically way bringing us closer together. I have always imagined that I should be naked at Her feet, my hands secured behind my back. Mistress sitting, I watch Her eating first, then She picks up my bowl and spoon and feeds me. Controlling what I eat, how fast I eat, me completely dependent, owned, loved.
I'm of the belief this should happen as often as practical, but at least once a week.
We are off to another Femdomme event soon, maybe I will get to serve a Mistress tea and cake followed by lashings of fun!
m
Tuesday 4 November 2014
Thoughts on life
If I had a £1 or a $1 for every Zit I'd had in my life I would have.......well maybe not enough to buy a house, but certainly a half decent Car. I was thinking this inain thought the other day as I waited in the Doctors Surgery. It's a modern building, clean almost sterile. An attempt has been made to make it Child and Adult friendly but like so many newer designs the Architect had clearly never taken the trouble to sit in a waiting room and just look, think and feel. One would have thought that at sometime they had sat waiting somewhere for something, maybe they were so worried about the something that they didn't think to look and analyse the somewhere.
Apart from the poor Zit covered teenager who I had spent the last 1/2 an hour facing there were the rather obvious collection of patients waiting in a resigned dignified silence. Each like me hoping the electric board that displays a name along with making a nasty zapping twang that blares each time the Doctor summoned the next victim would display theirs. Every time the tinnie sound emitted it caused us all to jump a little, heads swung upwards eyes scanning the board, disappointment followed by frustration for all but one lucky soul who moved towards the door conscious that all eyes were on them.
Finally my name flashed up, I rose up and tried to stroll nontantly to the Consulting Room. It's noticeable that the Doctors are all beginning to look younger than me........this does worry me a little.....do they really know there stuff? Pops into my mind, unbidden, uncalled for but it does nag away.
The Doc was a nice chap, mid/late 20's, he welcomed me and gestured to the vacant seat. The normal formalities were observed before I explained my problem, there then followed a very quick diagnosis and before I knew it I was the other side of the door clutching a prescription and an old man was pushing past me; eager to enter.
Waiting in a Doctors waiting room can evoke the same feelings for me that I get at a Munch. I know strange but true........We went to a Munch a few nights ago and as we arrived I realised that we didn't know anyone. Sometimes I'm really good at mixing and engaging with new people, other times I'm not. Unfortunately this was one of the latter and I struggled. In this case I could fathom out why.........a few days ago one of my Engineers died. He was at his home late at night......not even 60. He was a lovely man who would do anything for anyone. The thing that has made it worse is that apart from being a Top Bloke, he was a disaster with money, even worse so was/is his Wife. There isn't enough money to lay him to rest! He had been on long term sick leave and had been receiving SSP, that's a reduced monthly amount that comes from me, his boss, I then get it back from the Government. It's not perfect but it's more than many get in the world. I've now fiddled it so that he got a full months wage, I've then had to get the bank to let me draw his wages out in cash. In the UK it's getting harder to draw out large amount of cash due to the money laundering law. I had to jump through hoops to get the cash. It had to be cash because if I'd just given him a cheque it would have been swallowed up with all the debts.
Please don't think I'm trying to impress, I'm not, I feel it's my duty and honour to help. The funeral is going to be hard, the young trainee will struggle, it's his first one.
My final thought is that you really never know when your times up. My kind, warm hearted Engineer has gone, he will have died not doing all he ever wanted to, we all will suffer with that problem. I guess the main think is to do as much as you can as fast as you can, it may be an old cliché but none the less true.
m
Apart from the poor Zit covered teenager who I had spent the last 1/2 an hour facing there were the rather obvious collection of patients waiting in a resigned dignified silence. Each like me hoping the electric board that displays a name along with making a nasty zapping twang that blares each time the Doctor summoned the next victim would display theirs. Every time the tinnie sound emitted it caused us all to jump a little, heads swung upwards eyes scanning the board, disappointment followed by frustration for all but one lucky soul who moved towards the door conscious that all eyes were on them.
Finally my name flashed up, I rose up and tried to stroll nontantly to the Consulting Room. It's noticeable that the Doctors are all beginning to look younger than me........this does worry me a little.....do they really know there stuff? Pops into my mind, unbidden, uncalled for but it does nag away.
The Doc was a nice chap, mid/late 20's, he welcomed me and gestured to the vacant seat. The normal formalities were observed before I explained my problem, there then followed a very quick diagnosis and before I knew it I was the other side of the door clutching a prescription and an old man was pushing past me; eager to enter.
Waiting in a Doctors waiting room can evoke the same feelings for me that I get at a Munch. I know strange but true........We went to a Munch a few nights ago and as we arrived I realised that we didn't know anyone. Sometimes I'm really good at mixing and engaging with new people, other times I'm not. Unfortunately this was one of the latter and I struggled. In this case I could fathom out why.........a few days ago one of my Engineers died. He was at his home late at night......not even 60. He was a lovely man who would do anything for anyone. The thing that has made it worse is that apart from being a Top Bloke, he was a disaster with money, even worse so was/is his Wife. There isn't enough money to lay him to rest! He had been on long term sick leave and had been receiving SSP, that's a reduced monthly amount that comes from me, his boss, I then get it back from the Government. It's not perfect but it's more than many get in the world. I've now fiddled it so that he got a full months wage, I've then had to get the bank to let me draw his wages out in cash. In the UK it's getting harder to draw out large amount of cash due to the money laundering law. I had to jump through hoops to get the cash. It had to be cash because if I'd just given him a cheque it would have been swallowed up with all the debts.
Please don't think I'm trying to impress, I'm not, I feel it's my duty and honour to help. The funeral is going to be hard, the young trainee will struggle, it's his first one.
My final thought is that you really never know when your times up. My kind, warm hearted Engineer has gone, he will have died not doing all he ever wanted to, we all will suffer with that problem. I guess the main think is to do as much as you can as fast as you can, it may be an old cliché but none the less true.
m
Thursday 23 October 2014
What's the odds?
Number 1 Daughter has waddled off with Boyfriend to stay down there for a few days before they move into their new abode together. Her hormones have been all over the place so we've had to accept tears, tantrums and teenager behaviour (She's not a teenager by the way). The boyfriend has been exceptionally good, travelling a long way after work to be with Her. Ice cream, flowers and cuddles being the order of the day.
Anyway for now She's away and we are returning to normal. Funnily enough before She left Mistress was helping Her pack and tidy Her room, Mistress opened a draw to put something away and guess what She saw..............Butt Plugs...............No Way!!!!!! Mistress quickly closed the draw and said nothing. We know they must be for him as there is no way She would risk the Baby.
What are the odds?
I suppose if they get desperate next time there up here they could borrow one of ours!!!! lol.
Quick question does anyone know what's happened to Femdom 101, it seems to have gone a bit quiet on that front.
Keep smiling
m
Anyway for now She's away and we are returning to normal. Funnily enough before She left Mistress was helping Her pack and tidy Her room, Mistress opened a draw to put something away and guess what She saw..............Butt Plugs...............No Way!!!!!! Mistress quickly closed the draw and said nothing. We know they must be for him as there is no way She would risk the Baby.
What are the odds?
I suppose if they get desperate next time there up here they could borrow one of ours!!!! lol.
Quick question does anyone know what's happened to Femdom 101, it seems to have gone a bit quiet on that front.
Keep smiling
m
Monday 13 October 2014
Giving
A few weeks ago, one Saturday I called into our local shop to get Milk and Papers on the way back from walking Mut. Our shop is like most small convenience stores packed with essentials and also things you think you'd like but don't really need. There is the normal freezer section purveying high cholesterol; lip smacking; tastebud satisfying garbage. Fresh fruit and veg sit in green plastic boxes, slowly loosing their colour and goodness. Salad line up in neat rows of plastic sealed bags giving the semblance of healthy living. Near the checkout next to the chocolate temptations are a fine selection of popular beers; wines and spirits, priced to suite all manor of budgets. The extra strong ciders are pitifully inexpensive, so £4.00 will get you well on your way! There is a "Top Shelf" which if your not familiar with the term means there are some "Soft" and not so "Soft Porn " magazines available sitting on the top of the Magazine Stand. Strangely enough I have never seen anyone buy one, maybe it's a village thing. I did see a Woman in a Shop in the City once snatch one down from the heights, She flicked through it muttering "disgusting, disgusting" and promptly bought it. I was well impressed........
Anyway back to my local shop, stepping outside balancing my selections while fumbling for the Car Keys I couldn't help but notice an old man standing behind my car, he was wrinkly with a slight stoop, large cauliflower ears suggesting that either he played Rugby in his youth or his Mother didn't like him much and use to pull him around by whichever ear was closest to seize. He had his slippers on with the backs of the slippers crushed under each heel, no doubt forcing him to shuffle when he walked. Pyjamas bottoms peaked from under the brown trousers almost touching the slippers. The trousers hitched to belly button were held up by a thick, worn, once black belt with a tarnished scratched buckle. A yellow, musty stained round neck vest covered his top half with an "Old Mans" beige raincoat that had long since past it's sell by date completing the ensemble, all the buttons appeared to be missing so it hung from the bent shoulders, flapped in the wind with the coats' belt pointing away from the way he had come like kite stings twisting and kinking in a breeze. It was clear he had ether had just got out of bed or he had given up on the conventions of life and was doing his own thing. He was frantically searching his pockets and kept saying "Oh bollocks, bollocks, bollocks". I caught his eye, the ferreting in his pockets slowed to the odd twitch. Pulling out his right hand he rubbed his white haired stubbly nonexistent chin and ruefully smiled. "I've left me dosh (money) on the cabinet, what a dick". He then cried out "ha" and pulled out some loose change with his left hand, a couple seconds of counting and his face fell "bollocks, bollocks" he said with some angst. "Got to go back" he started to turn into the wind, clearly not relishing his return journey. "How much are you short" I asked. "60 pence" he said. Reaching into my pocket I located a pound and offered it to him. He looked a bit taken aback before gratefully picking it from my open palm. I thought he was going to bite it just to see if it was real. He then started to offer to leave a pound behind the till the following day so I could get my money back. Feeling a bit more nobel and self righteous than I should I made the grand gesture of telling him to keep it (what a saint!). I left him shaking his head as he entered the shop. It was only later I wondered if he was shaking his head in grateful happiness that he'd been spared a long repeat walk or was it "There's one born every minute". I'm not sure which, he is a locally known rogue. Either way it made me feel good about myself so it was worth the pound!
It just goes to show it's better to give than receive, is that why Mistress is so happy!
m
Anyway back to my local shop, stepping outside balancing my selections while fumbling for the Car Keys I couldn't help but notice an old man standing behind my car, he was wrinkly with a slight stoop, large cauliflower ears suggesting that either he played Rugby in his youth or his Mother didn't like him much and use to pull him around by whichever ear was closest to seize. He had his slippers on with the backs of the slippers crushed under each heel, no doubt forcing him to shuffle when he walked. Pyjamas bottoms peaked from under the brown trousers almost touching the slippers. The trousers hitched to belly button were held up by a thick, worn, once black belt with a tarnished scratched buckle. A yellow, musty stained round neck vest covered his top half with an "Old Mans" beige raincoat that had long since past it's sell by date completing the ensemble, all the buttons appeared to be missing so it hung from the bent shoulders, flapped in the wind with the coats' belt pointing away from the way he had come like kite stings twisting and kinking in a breeze. It was clear he had ether had just got out of bed or he had given up on the conventions of life and was doing his own thing. He was frantically searching his pockets and kept saying "Oh bollocks, bollocks, bollocks". I caught his eye, the ferreting in his pockets slowed to the odd twitch. Pulling out his right hand he rubbed his white haired stubbly nonexistent chin and ruefully smiled. "I've left me dosh (money) on the cabinet, what a dick". He then cried out "ha" and pulled out some loose change with his left hand, a couple seconds of counting and his face fell "bollocks, bollocks" he said with some angst. "Got to go back" he started to turn into the wind, clearly not relishing his return journey. "How much are you short" I asked. "60 pence" he said. Reaching into my pocket I located a pound and offered it to him. He looked a bit taken aback before gratefully picking it from my open palm. I thought he was going to bite it just to see if it was real. He then started to offer to leave a pound behind the till the following day so I could get my money back. Feeling a bit more nobel and self righteous than I should I made the grand gesture of telling him to keep it (what a saint!). I left him shaking his head as he entered the shop. It was only later I wondered if he was shaking his head in grateful happiness that he'd been spared a long repeat walk or was it "There's one born every minute". I'm not sure which, he is a locally known rogue. Either way it made me feel good about myself so it was worth the pound!
It just goes to show it's better to give than receive, is that why Mistress is so happy!
m
Thursday 9 October 2014
Devotion
The nights have marched onwards, relentlessly increasing their hold on our lives....Morning Mutt walks are now carried out in half light, evening ones in gloom. The seasons move on and we adapt.
It is with the changes that we finally got to do something that we haven't done for a very long time, we went to a club and played.......
Devotions is an event run a few times a year for Mistresses and subs/slaves. This was our first visit and I had been anticipating it for quite along time. Its held near Birmingham, which is officially England's 2nd city, although I understand that Manchester now claims that prize. Birmingham if you don't know is located in the middle of England, some 125 miles (192k i think) north of London.
It covers quite a small area, but is regarded by those who don't know; to cover a larger swath of Middle England such as Sandwell, Oldbury and West Bromwich etc.....
Devotions is located in West Bromwich which is to be found a little to the West of Birmingham. We arrived last Sunday afternoon just after 1400, parking was fine and we made our way to the venue, i lugging along a metal case with various "Toys!!!!" It was rather heavy. We entered what one could only assume from the outside to be a Nightclub and were relieved of £15.00 each before we could venture in. Believe me £15.00 was well worth it. I was please to see that there was a very strict no mobile phones policy. A House Slave welcomed Mistress and I politely enquiring if we had been before and offered to give us a tour. Mistress accepted and off we went. The venue turned out to be a Swingers Nightclub that also provided other themed events such as this one. I am some what pleased to report that there was no "Swinging" to be seen at any stage during our visit.
The main room had a long Bar, a Dance Floor that had various pieces of equipment, Crosses, Spanking Benches etc and seating around the outside of the Dance Floor. Sections of the Carpet in the Seating area were taped indicating that as you entered that section restrictions on subs/slaves applied, such as no talking, or crawling only. The room was already busy but not over crowded. We were ushered to a separate area that housed Booths (one assumes for private bonking on swingers nights) and then to a smaller play area that again housed some BDSM equipment. Moving back up stairs we were taken into a well lit seating area. A Mistress Tea Party was under-way. Mistress was escorted to a table and i knelt at Her feet. She rang a small bell and a TV Maid appeared to enquire to Her requirements. The Maid was immaculately dressed, hair perfect, make-up classy; not cheap. Mistress requested Tea, I was not allowed, this was a Mistress Tea Party and subs/slaves were not allowed to have tea. Mistress and i chatted while looking around, there were about 8 or 9 other Mistresses/Ladies seated at tables, some accompanied, others not. It was clear everyone of the Ladies had made an effort and looked wonderful. It was noticeable to me that the only voices that could really be heard were Female. slaves in the main were silent or quite spoken. There was an aura of peace, tranquillity and calm. The Tea arrived and was served with a little curtsy which was polite and respectful.... Mistress and I both noticed that the handle of the cup was the wrong way round!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mistress was very kind to the TV Maid and quietly pointed it out to the Maid who went a bit red around the cheeks and curtsied again while thanking Mistress for pointing out her error. I would not have got away so lightly. Mistress could see the Maid was nervous and had made allowances.
There was a cake platter on the table and i was instructed to pass it over so that Mistress could choose a small dainty cake. She kindly fed me tit-bits, I'm not sure if She was allowed to do this, but i don't think anyone really minded. my knees were beginning to hurt and ache. Well i am over 50 you know......Eventually i was allowed to sit on the ground at Mistresses feet, always a good place to be....
Mistress rang the bell again and had a second cup before leading me down to the Main Room, She strolled gracefully towards a seat and i realised that if would have to crawl the last 15 feet as we were entering a Controlled Zone. Not easy to do at my age on my own, with the heavy case, well harder that you might thing. Mistress sent me to the Bar to get Her a soft drink and I was allowed to get a bottle of water. The Bar seemed to have the normal things one would expect to find in a Night Club and the prices; very fair in my opinion. On returning I had realised that i would be expected to crawl the last bit, but with drinks in my hand and an eye to Health & Safety (don't laugh) i didn't crawl but quickly took a couple of big strides to get to the table hoping that no-one noticed or if they did not to say anything. Of course everyone was so busy enjoying themselves i escaped notice, phew. Shortly afterwards i was sent off to get changed/undress. I ended up in partially clad with Trainers on, maybe the Trainers don't quite cut it, but Mistress was not willing to take any chances with unforeseen damage to Her property. On my return; Mistress Collared me; fixing Her Collar round my neck while i knelt before Her. This is one of the most important rituals we have, i take it very seriously, as does She.
A voice called out for order, the Lady who was hosting the event took command instructing all subs/slaves to sit in the middle of the Dance Floor so that an "Ice Breaker" game could be played. Numbered Balloons were handed to the Ladies and the boys instructed to take turns throwing a large dice. What ever number landed on the dice the boy who had thrown the dice then had to crawl around the floor looking for a Lady who held a Balloon with that number. The boy then had to burst the balloon and read the forfeit hidden inside. I had to do a whole lap of the dance floor, on my knees!, before I found a correctly numbered balloon. As i am Owned i had to show the forfeit to my Mistress and gain Her consent before carrying it out.
No im not going to tell you what it was i will leave that to your own imagination. To give you an idea though some of the forfeits were being spanked for 3 mins, massaging feet, pole dancing.
Most of the Ladies really seemed to enjoy it. Mistress had a foot massage by a naked young man who had a chastity device fitted. She said he was very good and had enjoyed the foot massage.
After the games people started to play. We watched for a time soaking in the atmosphere before getting into a deep conversation with an American or Canadian Lady who was fun and friendly. I always throw in a polite question just to see if the Lady is sub friendly or not. She was came across as gracious and charming to both of us. I have observed that most Dominant Ladies are normally polite to subs as a matter of course.
People started to "Play" and soon the room was full of the sounds of spanks, slaps, whistles\zip from canes and of course the accompanying cries, yelps and the odd plea. One poor or lucky boy, depending on your point of view was getting a right caning from a leather clad rather sexy Mistress, he did lots a wriggling and squealing while securely fixed to a spanking bench. She really laid it on.
Mistress suddenly decided that we were going to play, i had at one point thought that She had decided against it. When we use to go out years ago Mistress was never to keen on public play and to some extend neither was I. I think the thing that changed Her mind was that it as in our view everything was "the right was round". Normal BDSM events have a mixture of Male and Female Doms/subs. Each to their own and all that, but this was an event where Mistress and Mistresses could let their hair and guard down and really enjoy themselves.
Disappointedly all the equipment everywhere was in use, I assumed that was it then just before Mistress frog marched to to a booth and ordered me to "Strip boy!" I did and was ordered to put on the ball parachute. This leather device wraps around the testicles in a cone shape trapping them. Three small chains hang down from the bottom of the parachute, these in turn link to a large ring. My wrists were cuffed to my collar so that my hand could only move 3 or 4 inches from my neck, leaving my totally exposed and vulnerable. The first of the heavy weights was taken out of the case and Mistress weighed it in Her hand before clipping the weight onto the ring and.......dropping it from a height, my breath was taken away before i let a little moan out. The aching began. My hands twitched and jerked, breathing became harder, moving even harder. The door to the booth had purposely been left open and i was ordered to walk up to the far end of the corridor and back. When i say walk, in this case i shuffled; the weight swinging as i moved increasing the pain. On my return Mistress pulled back my foreskin and sank Her razor sharp nails into the head of my cock.....I screamed, She smiled. Shit i thought She's really in a sadistic mood. Looking back now i can see that it was seeing all the other Ladies Playing that had set Her off. Another weight was added and then a third......kicking the weights She laughed at my moans and sent me off on another wander up the corridor. A Lady appeared on Her way to the Main Room, seeing what was going on She decided to watch, i was ordered to curtsy before Her as I went passed, not too easy to do when your hauling what seems to be a couple of tons by your balls!!!!!!. I was in so much pain i couldn't look at Her face, i was hunched over in torment. It got worse, each time i returned to Mistress another dammed weight was added, kicked and then i sent on my way. Each time as i returned to Mistress i had to curtsy to the watching Mistress, each time She thanked me in a soft silky way, i could tell by the tone She was really enjoying my agony and humiliation. How i kept the weights off the floor i don't know, or rather i do, there would have been even worse torment and punishment if i had shown my Mistress up in front of anther Lady. Eventually Mistress tired of the game and unclipped the parachute, this always leads to me crying out, the pain when the blood returns is mind bending, especially when your balls are being roughly massaged. With no pause for breath i was placed firmly across Mistresses knees where i then endured one of the most savage beatings on my bum with hand, paddle and strap. I yelled and pleaded, in between my cries i could hear another sub also yelling and begging, i have no idea what was happening to him, but i was glad it wasn't me. Mind you he might say the same. Mistress told me afterwards that a TV Maid went past a couple of times and looked quite pale and horrified. There is a point when when the pain becomes searing, your brain scrambles unable to make sense of it and you just have to hang on in there to get through it. I was left panting and temporarily broken. I fell off Her and plunged to the floor begin Her to stop. Her eyes danced, amused and then She relented, it was over, i sobbed into Her.....
Now to be fair this is when Mistress proves how good She is as a Mistress, there was no rush, get on with it boy, She had had Her fun and was now willing to give me as much time as i needed to gather myself, tidy up and clean the area spraying down the surfaces we had come into contact with. I needed a lot of time, not just 5 minutes. This is the point where She will not leave me alone, i get Her undivided attention.
Finally i was able to move and we went back to the main area, Mistress had played and now wanted a drink, i was dispatched for a G and T, my selection was water. Mistress has never consumed alcohol and played, but afterwards She does sometimes like a G and T.
The buffet was opened up and we went back into the Tea Room to eat, Ladies were of course allowed to queue jump, Mistress sent me up to get some nibbles for Her, the problem was that other Ladies went up themselves and I had to politely give way, which meant of course that Mistress was kept waiting and waiting. What are you meant to do? Explain to the Lady who expects to go past that your not going up for yourself but for your Mistress or step aside. I stepped aside. Finally i got to the front and was met by a professional spread that the chap in front of me had laid on. I made sure i thanked him for his hard work, he deserved praise. Handing the plate to Mistress I was told to go and get something for myself.......back to the end of the line, it was like 2 steps forwards and 3 back as Ladies floated by...... but that the way it should be so i was more than happy to wait my turn. As i returned to Mistress i was instructed not to kneel but to sit next to Her....... I love my Mistress, She knew i needed to stay off my knees and just to sit quietly next to Her......there was a real danger of my slipping off into sub space ( i will talk about sub space another time, its a complex subject for me).
The food was excellent. After we had eaten Mistress chatter away to another Lady, i have no idea what was said, i was still recovering.
The club was clean, smart and run by very polite and helpful staff, the Mistress and Her sub who organised it did a brilliant job (many thanks kind Lady) As we drove home Mistress was already planning Her next visit there....... She will need a new outfit i was told......but of course i replied while thinking and i need a new bum!!!!!!!!
m
It is with the changes that we finally got to do something that we haven't done for a very long time, we went to a club and played.......
Devotions is an event run a few times a year for Mistresses and subs/slaves. This was our first visit and I had been anticipating it for quite along time. Its held near Birmingham, which is officially England's 2nd city, although I understand that Manchester now claims that prize. Birmingham if you don't know is located in the middle of England, some 125 miles (192k i think) north of London.
It covers quite a small area, but is regarded by those who don't know; to cover a larger swath of Middle England such as Sandwell, Oldbury and West Bromwich etc.....
Devotions is located in West Bromwich which is to be found a little to the West of Birmingham. We arrived last Sunday afternoon just after 1400, parking was fine and we made our way to the venue, i lugging along a metal case with various "Toys!!!!" It was rather heavy. We entered what one could only assume from the outside to be a Nightclub and were relieved of £15.00 each before we could venture in. Believe me £15.00 was well worth it. I was please to see that there was a very strict no mobile phones policy. A House Slave welcomed Mistress and I politely enquiring if we had been before and offered to give us a tour. Mistress accepted and off we went. The venue turned out to be a Swingers Nightclub that also provided other themed events such as this one. I am some what pleased to report that there was no "Swinging" to be seen at any stage during our visit.
The main room had a long Bar, a Dance Floor that had various pieces of equipment, Crosses, Spanking Benches etc and seating around the outside of the Dance Floor. Sections of the Carpet in the Seating area were taped indicating that as you entered that section restrictions on subs/slaves applied, such as no talking, or crawling only. The room was already busy but not over crowded. We were ushered to a separate area that housed Booths (one assumes for private bonking on swingers nights) and then to a smaller play area that again housed some BDSM equipment. Moving back up stairs we were taken into a well lit seating area. A Mistress Tea Party was under-way. Mistress was escorted to a table and i knelt at Her feet. She rang a small bell and a TV Maid appeared to enquire to Her requirements. The Maid was immaculately dressed, hair perfect, make-up classy; not cheap. Mistress requested Tea, I was not allowed, this was a Mistress Tea Party and subs/slaves were not allowed to have tea. Mistress and i chatted while looking around, there were about 8 or 9 other Mistresses/Ladies seated at tables, some accompanied, others not. It was clear everyone of the Ladies had made an effort and looked wonderful. It was noticeable to me that the only voices that could really be heard were Female. slaves in the main were silent or quite spoken. There was an aura of peace, tranquillity and calm. The Tea arrived and was served with a little curtsy which was polite and respectful.... Mistress and I both noticed that the handle of the cup was the wrong way round!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mistress was very kind to the TV Maid and quietly pointed it out to the Maid who went a bit red around the cheeks and curtsied again while thanking Mistress for pointing out her error. I would not have got away so lightly. Mistress could see the Maid was nervous and had made allowances.
There was a cake platter on the table and i was instructed to pass it over so that Mistress could choose a small dainty cake. She kindly fed me tit-bits, I'm not sure if She was allowed to do this, but i don't think anyone really minded. my knees were beginning to hurt and ache. Well i am over 50 you know......Eventually i was allowed to sit on the ground at Mistresses feet, always a good place to be....
Mistress rang the bell again and had a second cup before leading me down to the Main Room, She strolled gracefully towards a seat and i realised that if would have to crawl the last 15 feet as we were entering a Controlled Zone. Not easy to do at my age on my own, with the heavy case, well harder that you might thing. Mistress sent me to the Bar to get Her a soft drink and I was allowed to get a bottle of water. The Bar seemed to have the normal things one would expect to find in a Night Club and the prices; very fair in my opinion. On returning I had realised that i would be expected to crawl the last bit, but with drinks in my hand and an eye to Health & Safety (don't laugh) i didn't crawl but quickly took a couple of big strides to get to the table hoping that no-one noticed or if they did not to say anything. Of course everyone was so busy enjoying themselves i escaped notice, phew. Shortly afterwards i was sent off to get changed/undress. I ended up in partially clad with Trainers on, maybe the Trainers don't quite cut it, but Mistress was not willing to take any chances with unforeseen damage to Her property. On my return; Mistress Collared me; fixing Her Collar round my neck while i knelt before Her. This is one of the most important rituals we have, i take it very seriously, as does She.
A voice called out for order, the Lady who was hosting the event took command instructing all subs/slaves to sit in the middle of the Dance Floor so that an "Ice Breaker" game could be played. Numbered Balloons were handed to the Ladies and the boys instructed to take turns throwing a large dice. What ever number landed on the dice the boy who had thrown the dice then had to crawl around the floor looking for a Lady who held a Balloon with that number. The boy then had to burst the balloon and read the forfeit hidden inside. I had to do a whole lap of the dance floor, on my knees!, before I found a correctly numbered balloon. As i am Owned i had to show the forfeit to my Mistress and gain Her consent before carrying it out.
No im not going to tell you what it was i will leave that to your own imagination. To give you an idea though some of the forfeits were being spanked for 3 mins, massaging feet, pole dancing.
Most of the Ladies really seemed to enjoy it. Mistress had a foot massage by a naked young man who had a chastity device fitted. She said he was very good and had enjoyed the foot massage.
After the games people started to play. We watched for a time soaking in the atmosphere before getting into a deep conversation with an American or Canadian Lady who was fun and friendly. I always throw in a polite question just to see if the Lady is sub friendly or not. She was came across as gracious and charming to both of us. I have observed that most Dominant Ladies are normally polite to subs as a matter of course.
People started to "Play" and soon the room was full of the sounds of spanks, slaps, whistles\zip from canes and of course the accompanying cries, yelps and the odd plea. One poor or lucky boy, depending on your point of view was getting a right caning from a leather clad rather sexy Mistress, he did lots a wriggling and squealing while securely fixed to a spanking bench. She really laid it on.
Mistress suddenly decided that we were going to play, i had at one point thought that She had decided against it. When we use to go out years ago Mistress was never to keen on public play and to some extend neither was I. I think the thing that changed Her mind was that it as in our view everything was "the right was round". Normal BDSM events have a mixture of Male and Female Doms/subs. Each to their own and all that, but this was an event where Mistress and Mistresses could let their hair and guard down and really enjoy themselves.
Disappointedly all the equipment everywhere was in use, I assumed that was it then just before Mistress frog marched to to a booth and ordered me to "Strip boy!" I did and was ordered to put on the ball parachute. This leather device wraps around the testicles in a cone shape trapping them. Three small chains hang down from the bottom of the parachute, these in turn link to a large ring. My wrists were cuffed to my collar so that my hand could only move 3 or 4 inches from my neck, leaving my totally exposed and vulnerable. The first of the heavy weights was taken out of the case and Mistress weighed it in Her hand before clipping the weight onto the ring and.......dropping it from a height, my breath was taken away before i let a little moan out. The aching began. My hands twitched and jerked, breathing became harder, moving even harder. The door to the booth had purposely been left open and i was ordered to walk up to the far end of the corridor and back. When i say walk, in this case i shuffled; the weight swinging as i moved increasing the pain. On my return Mistress pulled back my foreskin and sank Her razor sharp nails into the head of my cock.....I screamed, She smiled. Shit i thought She's really in a sadistic mood. Looking back now i can see that it was seeing all the other Ladies Playing that had set Her off. Another weight was added and then a third......kicking the weights She laughed at my moans and sent me off on another wander up the corridor. A Lady appeared on Her way to the Main Room, seeing what was going on She decided to watch, i was ordered to curtsy before Her as I went passed, not too easy to do when your hauling what seems to be a couple of tons by your balls!!!!!!. I was in so much pain i couldn't look at Her face, i was hunched over in torment. It got worse, each time i returned to Mistress another dammed weight was added, kicked and then i sent on my way. Each time as i returned to Mistress i had to curtsy to the watching Mistress, each time She thanked me in a soft silky way, i could tell by the tone She was really enjoying my agony and humiliation. How i kept the weights off the floor i don't know, or rather i do, there would have been even worse torment and punishment if i had shown my Mistress up in front of anther Lady. Eventually Mistress tired of the game and unclipped the parachute, this always leads to me crying out, the pain when the blood returns is mind bending, especially when your balls are being roughly massaged. With no pause for breath i was placed firmly across Mistresses knees where i then endured one of the most savage beatings on my bum with hand, paddle and strap. I yelled and pleaded, in between my cries i could hear another sub also yelling and begging, i have no idea what was happening to him, but i was glad it wasn't me. Mind you he might say the same. Mistress told me afterwards that a TV Maid went past a couple of times and looked quite pale and horrified. There is a point when when the pain becomes searing, your brain scrambles unable to make sense of it and you just have to hang on in there to get through it. I was left panting and temporarily broken. I fell off Her and plunged to the floor begin Her to stop. Her eyes danced, amused and then She relented, it was over, i sobbed into Her.....
Now to be fair this is when Mistress proves how good She is as a Mistress, there was no rush, get on with it boy, She had had Her fun and was now willing to give me as much time as i needed to gather myself, tidy up and clean the area spraying down the surfaces we had come into contact with. I needed a lot of time, not just 5 minutes. This is the point where She will not leave me alone, i get Her undivided attention.
Finally i was able to move and we went back to the main area, Mistress had played and now wanted a drink, i was dispatched for a G and T, my selection was water. Mistress has never consumed alcohol and played, but afterwards She does sometimes like a G and T.
The buffet was opened up and we went back into the Tea Room to eat, Ladies were of course allowed to queue jump, Mistress sent me up to get some nibbles for Her, the problem was that other Ladies went up themselves and I had to politely give way, which meant of course that Mistress was kept waiting and waiting. What are you meant to do? Explain to the Lady who expects to go past that your not going up for yourself but for your Mistress or step aside. I stepped aside. Finally i got to the front and was met by a professional spread that the chap in front of me had laid on. I made sure i thanked him for his hard work, he deserved praise. Handing the plate to Mistress I was told to go and get something for myself.......back to the end of the line, it was like 2 steps forwards and 3 back as Ladies floated by...... but that the way it should be so i was more than happy to wait my turn. As i returned to Mistress i was instructed not to kneel but to sit next to Her....... I love my Mistress, She knew i needed to stay off my knees and just to sit quietly next to Her......there was a real danger of my slipping off into sub space ( i will talk about sub space another time, its a complex subject for me).
The food was excellent. After we had eaten Mistress chatter away to another Lady, i have no idea what was said, i was still recovering.
The club was clean, smart and run by very polite and helpful staff, the Mistress and Her sub who organised it did a brilliant job (many thanks kind Lady) As we drove home Mistress was already planning Her next visit there....... She will need a new outfit i was told......but of course i replied while thinking and i need a new bum!!!!!!!!
m
Wednesday 1 October 2014
Private, but me.
The problem with being me is that I have my own yin and yang, each fighting against each other. In one way I want Mistress to be....... Well Mistress......... Strong, decisive, firm, commanding, dominant.
To explain in more details I want........yes I know I have just said I want........what a bad sub I am, but true to myself..........I want Mistress to be more bossy, strong, consuming, to give more commands, to call me boy,
To pull my hair and passionately kiss me; Her tongue deep in my mouth. I want to be used and abused, to be thrown on the bed and taken; hard and fast. For Her to insist I curtsey on entering a room that She is in.......each time, ever time. When we have been separated for a time to demand I kneel before Her and kiss Her feet in submission. To give me a stroke of the cane each time I bite my nails, no more warnings, no more chances, just one hard cruel stroke.
On the other hand.........
It all falls apart when I consider last night, me, knackered, stressed, not tip top. Biting my nails but completely not up for a stroke. Then what happens, as sometimes it does when I'm not up for punishment, play etc. mentally or physically. I just need to be cuddled and held. Dommed, loved.
On the other hand........
I want Her to be my friend, my lover, my mate. To laugh at my poor jokes, to encourage and care. Sometimes I want a Mistress to hold me tight, to lay on top of me in bed wrapping me up with Her limbs, taking me in Her arms. I need Her to tell me it's going to be alright even when it isn't. To make love to me, soft, loving, gentle.
To know I protect Her and She protects me.
Oh this bit private,kid the rest isn't!
I love you, I really love you, but this you already know, right!, I'll step in to your light, always.
m
To explain in more details I want........yes I know I have just said I want........what a bad sub I am, but true to myself..........I want Mistress to be more bossy, strong, consuming, to give more commands, to call me boy,
To pull my hair and passionately kiss me; Her tongue deep in my mouth. I want to be used and abused, to be thrown on the bed and taken; hard and fast. For Her to insist I curtsey on entering a room that She is in.......each time, ever time. When we have been separated for a time to demand I kneel before Her and kiss Her feet in submission. To give me a stroke of the cane each time I bite my nails, no more warnings, no more chances, just one hard cruel stroke.
On the other hand.........
It all falls apart when I consider last night, me, knackered, stressed, not tip top. Biting my nails but completely not up for a stroke. Then what happens, as sometimes it does when I'm not up for punishment, play etc. mentally or physically. I just need to be cuddled and held. Dommed, loved.
On the other hand........
I want Her to be my friend, my lover, my mate. To laugh at my poor jokes, to encourage and care. Sometimes I want a Mistress to hold me tight, to lay on top of me in bed wrapping me up with Her limbs, taking me in Her arms. I need Her to tell me it's going to be alright even when it isn't. To make love to me, soft, loving, gentle.
To know I protect Her and She protects me.
Oh this bit private,kid the rest isn't!
I love you, I really love you, but this you already know, right!, I'll step in to your light, always.
m
Thursday 25 September 2014
Wrong time of the month
The political conference season has now commenced, each party will now take the better part of a week making earnest, passionate, polished speeches. Apart from the Labour Party where it all went wrong, he missed out the vital part of his speech, he forgot it! The wide eyed, foam spitting, none fist clenching preachers will assure us that their vision is the ONE!. Their voices will crackle with indignant emotion. All others are false gods; propelled from Tribes that are greedy, self centred and inept.
Ummmmmm didn't they say all that last year. Of course in about 8 months the United Kingdom is to have its next General Election. So this year the promises will be a little bit bigger, the lies a bit more ambitious, with moral outrage wrapped in a eco-friendly, none gender specific, politically correct blanket of knitted velvet words and good intentions.
That special time of the month has come again, not one of my more favourite events, but unavoidable; so I march forward; staring reality fully in the face. It is of course time to get my hair cut! As you can guess, I can think of better things to do with my time. During the last 12 months I have moved my allegiance from one salon to; dare I say another one, well I think it's a sort of salon. The first establishment was great but a little pricy, not that it was the reason why I absented myself from there. It was more the repeated rubbing, sorry attempted rubbing of his tackle against my arms. I learned to keep my elbows tucked in. Mistress went once and didn't return! Anyway quite a few months ago I had a poor haircut, Mistress said it was poor, so I strode forward and located my current Hair Designer/Technician.
The establishment is located near a reasonable cheap car park, which is helpful. Anyway today was the day so I climbed the flight of stairs and entered. The Hair Dresser (HD) was hunched over the counter writing a letter, briefly looking up he nodded to the chair and went back to his missive. I sat down onto the faded brown leather barbers seat. Most of the leather was worn and ripped, foam peaked out where my buttocks now rested. Surveying the Salon! I could see little had changed. There was still the smell of oil and unwashed bodies. The mirror to my left still had a crack in it. Soft porn lads mags were draped over the pitted, drink stained coffee table, where there were more rings embossed on the surface than the Olympic Flag. The ceiling was still yellow, showing that before the smoking ban many a Drag had been taken on the premises. To my right the only window remained unwashed restricting the natural light so that it was forced to compete with the harsh strip lighting. BBC News 24 gently sounded in the background. The geriatric fake wood TV had apparently kept going.
Throwing down his pen the HD waddled over, his swollen belly forcing its way out of the grubby white shirt, old scruffy trainers with grey trousers completing the ensemble. His flies down by an inch with the zip handle pointing out horizontally. His face was white and puffy with jet black hair that resembled an upside down bog brush. He looked at me in the mirror in that quizzical way, meaning what do want. I asked for the usual, he nodded and swept a sheet around me, poking an edge into my collar.
Now if you don't live in the United Kingdom you may or may not have come across an old mans Barbour's shop. The patter is none Politically Correct, sexist, racist, fattish (yes I know he's fat) thinish and anything else that upsets the cuddly do goofing up minions that now infect our lives. In my eyes if you cannot deal with it; don't go in there, there are many other perfect, smart, sharp venues to honour with your patronage. The blokes honest, well as far as I know. Clearly poorly educated, inarticulate and maybe not the sharpest tool in the box. So you may ask why do I go there. Well for one Mistress likes the haircut he does, I actually like him, once you get past the veneer you find a warm lonely white middle aged man adrift in the great ocean called life.
There was a poorly written note sellotaped to the mirror that stared back at me; stating that due to a forth coming operation he was about to have, the shop was shortly to close for 3 weeks. We talked about it, he becoming agitated before finally explaining that he was behind with the rent, and when I entered, he was in the middle of trying to write a letter to the landlord asking for the rent to be put to one side for three weeks and promising to pay off the arrears this coming January. Sweeping up the letter he thrust it into my hands and asked my opinion. His writing was legible but child like, it did in a simple way make reasonably clear his request. I politely told him it was more than adequate, and that there was always a possibility that it may help. We rent out a couple of properties and if a tenant had taken the time and trouble to write I know we would sit down and talk about it. We may not give the answer sort, but we would discuss it. So I wasn't just being polite to fob him off.
While he snipped away I asked him about his trade and customers. This was an attempt on my part to get him to calm down so I got a decent cut. This subject was of course easy for him, his voice changed into that prerecorded patter that you hear when someone has said the same things too many times.
IF YOU ARE OF THE POLITICAL CORRECT PERSUASION PLEASE DONT READ THE PARAGRAPH BELOW.
I'm not prepared to alter what he said just to make anyone else (apart from my Mistress of course) feel unoffended. He told me most of his customers were P*€*s, N%{{#€s and old men! his words not mine. Apparently p*€*s have a number 1 cut, n%{{#€s a 0 cut and men like me an old mans cut. Thanks I thought, it's now official, I'm old!.
Apparently he's very popular doing the 0 and number 1 cuts. I'm not sure what these cuts are, I suspect very short ones with patterns or words cut in. He told me he gets loads of work "Off Them". I did wonder how-come he's got problems with rent if he's so busy but decided not to ask on the bases that he had, at that time, only cut one side and I feared the other side could end up somewhat different from the former.
He then went on to tell me about his Misses and Kids, again the voice changed becoming loving Father, concerned, proud and worried all in one. Smart enough to realise his life is "Fucked" and desperate that his offspring don't blindly follow in his foot steps.
My allotted time was up, 20 minutes maximum apparently was the most he allowed. I handed over £10 and told him to keep the change. The note was stuffed into the rear pocket of the grey trousers. The till ignored. Obviously the Back Economy boomed here. I'm i allowed to say Black Economy nowadays?
Wishing him luck I ventured downstairs; gratefully sucking in cleaner air as I stood on the asphalt.
Will I return?
Carlesburgh !
Mistress has just gone out for the evening to visit a girly friend. I express to Her the wish for Her to have a good time. It's just a gossip She said. So You will have a good time I replied! She just laughed.
So what will I do now after finishing this......... I guess I will just have to wash my hair.
m
Ummmmmm didn't they say all that last year. Of course in about 8 months the United Kingdom is to have its next General Election. So this year the promises will be a little bit bigger, the lies a bit more ambitious, with moral outrage wrapped in a eco-friendly, none gender specific, politically correct blanket of knitted velvet words and good intentions.
That special time of the month has come again, not one of my more favourite events, but unavoidable; so I march forward; staring reality fully in the face. It is of course time to get my hair cut! As you can guess, I can think of better things to do with my time. During the last 12 months I have moved my allegiance from one salon to; dare I say another one, well I think it's a sort of salon. The first establishment was great but a little pricy, not that it was the reason why I absented myself from there. It was more the repeated rubbing, sorry attempted rubbing of his tackle against my arms. I learned to keep my elbows tucked in. Mistress went once and didn't return! Anyway quite a few months ago I had a poor haircut, Mistress said it was poor, so I strode forward and located my current Hair Designer/Technician.
The establishment is located near a reasonable cheap car park, which is helpful. Anyway today was the day so I climbed the flight of stairs and entered. The Hair Dresser (HD) was hunched over the counter writing a letter, briefly looking up he nodded to the chair and went back to his missive. I sat down onto the faded brown leather barbers seat. Most of the leather was worn and ripped, foam peaked out where my buttocks now rested. Surveying the Salon! I could see little had changed. There was still the smell of oil and unwashed bodies. The mirror to my left still had a crack in it. Soft porn lads mags were draped over the pitted, drink stained coffee table, where there were more rings embossed on the surface than the Olympic Flag. The ceiling was still yellow, showing that before the smoking ban many a Drag had been taken on the premises. To my right the only window remained unwashed restricting the natural light so that it was forced to compete with the harsh strip lighting. BBC News 24 gently sounded in the background. The geriatric fake wood TV had apparently kept going.
Throwing down his pen the HD waddled over, his swollen belly forcing its way out of the grubby white shirt, old scruffy trainers with grey trousers completing the ensemble. His flies down by an inch with the zip handle pointing out horizontally. His face was white and puffy with jet black hair that resembled an upside down bog brush. He looked at me in the mirror in that quizzical way, meaning what do want. I asked for the usual, he nodded and swept a sheet around me, poking an edge into my collar.
Now if you don't live in the United Kingdom you may or may not have come across an old mans Barbour's shop. The patter is none Politically Correct, sexist, racist, fattish (yes I know he's fat) thinish and anything else that upsets the cuddly do goofing up minions that now infect our lives. In my eyes if you cannot deal with it; don't go in there, there are many other perfect, smart, sharp venues to honour with your patronage. The blokes honest, well as far as I know. Clearly poorly educated, inarticulate and maybe not the sharpest tool in the box. So you may ask why do I go there. Well for one Mistress likes the haircut he does, I actually like him, once you get past the veneer you find a warm lonely white middle aged man adrift in the great ocean called life.
There was a poorly written note sellotaped to the mirror that stared back at me; stating that due to a forth coming operation he was about to have, the shop was shortly to close for 3 weeks. We talked about it, he becoming agitated before finally explaining that he was behind with the rent, and when I entered, he was in the middle of trying to write a letter to the landlord asking for the rent to be put to one side for three weeks and promising to pay off the arrears this coming January. Sweeping up the letter he thrust it into my hands and asked my opinion. His writing was legible but child like, it did in a simple way make reasonably clear his request. I politely told him it was more than adequate, and that there was always a possibility that it may help. We rent out a couple of properties and if a tenant had taken the time and trouble to write I know we would sit down and talk about it. We may not give the answer sort, but we would discuss it. So I wasn't just being polite to fob him off.
While he snipped away I asked him about his trade and customers. This was an attempt on my part to get him to calm down so I got a decent cut. This subject was of course easy for him, his voice changed into that prerecorded patter that you hear when someone has said the same things too many times.
IF YOU ARE OF THE POLITICAL CORRECT PERSUASION PLEASE DONT READ THE PARAGRAPH BELOW.
I'm not prepared to alter what he said just to make anyone else (apart from my Mistress of course) feel unoffended. He told me most of his customers were P*€*s, N%{{#€s and old men! his words not mine. Apparently p*€*s have a number 1 cut, n%{{#€s a 0 cut and men like me an old mans cut. Thanks I thought, it's now official, I'm old!.
Apparently he's very popular doing the 0 and number 1 cuts. I'm not sure what these cuts are, I suspect very short ones with patterns or words cut in. He told me he gets loads of work "Off Them". I did wonder how-come he's got problems with rent if he's so busy but decided not to ask on the bases that he had, at that time, only cut one side and I feared the other side could end up somewhat different from the former.
He then went on to tell me about his Misses and Kids, again the voice changed becoming loving Father, concerned, proud and worried all in one. Smart enough to realise his life is "Fucked" and desperate that his offspring don't blindly follow in his foot steps.
My allotted time was up, 20 minutes maximum apparently was the most he allowed. I handed over £10 and told him to keep the change. The note was stuffed into the rear pocket of the grey trousers. The till ignored. Obviously the Back Economy boomed here. I'm i allowed to say Black Economy nowadays?
Wishing him luck I ventured downstairs; gratefully sucking in cleaner air as I stood on the asphalt.
Will I return?
Carlesburgh !
Mistress has just gone out for the evening to visit a girly friend. I express to Her the wish for Her to have a good time. It's just a gossip She said. So You will have a good time I replied! She just laughed.
So what will I do now after finishing this......... I guess I will just have to wash my hair.
m
Monday 22 September 2014
Sixteen going on HOW MANY!
So a week after returning from our vacation, we have settled back into the routine. The first couple of days were the usual depressing; wish I weren't here feelings, before the getting up and on with it mood formed.
The closer it got to Thursday the more desperate the Southern Political Bigwigs became. This of course was due to the Scottish Referendum that took place on that day. In the end the SPB made every promise they could think of to keep the United Kingdom together.
In the end they (the SPB) won it 55% to 45%, give or take. The Scottish National Party leader (Mr Potato Head as I like to call him) resigned as he view the result as a personal failure, it wasn't. During his resignation speech he did say that the SPB would renege on their promises. Funnily enough I think he's right, they will, but they will gave a "Very Clear and Important Reason as to Why" just as soon as they have thought of one!
It's taken a few days to slip back into domestic subbie mode, but all is now well and I'm back on track. Chores done, feet kissed etc. We played Yesterday, initially 16 with the cane, not as punishment you understand, just as fun for Mistress. Although She can and does sometimes hit hard, She tends not to go flat out. Even so I ended up begging and squealing while Her laughter rang in my ears. Afterwards She expressed regret that, I had not marked. Now me being a complete prat suggested (yes you know what's coming)..........."please hit me harder Mistress, please give me 6"........ She pointed out She would give me as many as She wanted to and promptly did, ouch.....double ouch! Or words to that effect.
Mistress goes on Mums Net, a forum for Woman. There is always some poor soul who has just found out that their "Other Half" has gone and cheated on them.
This led to a fairly long discussion on if cheating is ever acceptable. The easy answer of course no, never, cut off their balls, hang them etc........
However the more we talked the more we changed our minds, let say I'm in a horrendous car accident, paralysed for life, no chance of a recovery. Is it then fair to say Mistress, you married me so tough, you may live for another 30/40 years but no sex for you, ever. That seems selfish to me. If I was dead I would want the one I love to try and have a full life after I'm gone, so why not if I'm sort of gone?
Equally, if a Woman in a, dare I say normal (what ever that means) relationship goes off sex and decides, that's it, I'm not ever going to do that again. Is that what She is really saying............or is She saying, neither of us are to ever have sex again because I've chosen that and you get no say in it. In a FLM/R that could possible be acceptable, but in a none FLM/R we decided it was not.
A controversial subject I know, but I would be interested in hearing your views thoughts and comments.
Fortunately I'm not in any of those awful predicaments; and hope I never shall be.
WINGE SECTION
I've been "On Call" this weekend, most of the time this involves speaking to the odd idiot who have long since lost all their brain cells. One of these retarded individuals phone me to say there was no mains power in a local village hall. Ok I asked; do the homes nearby have any lights showing, I was assured they did.....ok have you checked the Trips/Circuit Breakers, oh yes came the reply; there all fine. I then spent the next few minutes talking to the plank trying to explain that as homes all around him were showing signs of electricity a Trip etc must have gone. He was having none of it. In the end I drove all the way out there and flicked the trip back on. Clearly the plank cannot read "On/Off" signs! The bills in the post!. Funny how the planks always end up being men, it has to be said Woman tend to be more willing to listen.
Winge over........sorry.........this has however again led me to the conclusion that most men talk but don't listen, one of my biggest selling tools is the power of silence, it speaks volumes at times. Living with Mistress has taught me that my eyes, my expressions and body language are at least equally; if not more so.
During the weekend apart from playing we did some cupboard cleaning out and reorganising. Mistress was dressed in normal jeans and top, I was of course naked apart from a small white maids apron that Mistress had decided I was to wear, and also footwear. The footwear is the important bit, damaged toes can mean loss of work/money. There have been few accidents/damages done during Full On Mistress time due to Mistress thinking things through and then erring on the side of caution. There's something wonderful working together as Mistress/sub, Mistress leading and instructing, us chatting and laughing, totally FLM/R but not rigid, inflexible, stereotypical. With the occasional slap on my bum, or a quick grope and forceful snog we whiled away a few joyful hours.
As I've already asked you all a question, I think it is only fair that you ask me a question, assuming that you want to. I will try and answer it openly and honestly.
May your God go with you.
m
The closer it got to Thursday the more desperate the Southern Political Bigwigs became. This of course was due to the Scottish Referendum that took place on that day. In the end the SPB made every promise they could think of to keep the United Kingdom together.
In the end they (the SPB) won it 55% to 45%, give or take. The Scottish National Party leader (Mr Potato Head as I like to call him) resigned as he view the result as a personal failure, it wasn't. During his resignation speech he did say that the SPB would renege on their promises. Funnily enough I think he's right, they will, but they will gave a "Very Clear and Important Reason as to Why" just as soon as they have thought of one!
It's taken a few days to slip back into domestic subbie mode, but all is now well and I'm back on track. Chores done, feet kissed etc. We played Yesterday, initially 16 with the cane, not as punishment you understand, just as fun for Mistress. Although She can and does sometimes hit hard, She tends not to go flat out. Even so I ended up begging and squealing while Her laughter rang in my ears. Afterwards She expressed regret that, I had not marked. Now me being a complete prat suggested (yes you know what's coming)..........."please hit me harder Mistress, please give me 6"........ She pointed out She would give me as many as She wanted to and promptly did, ouch.....double ouch! Or words to that effect.
Mistress goes on Mums Net, a forum for Woman. There is always some poor soul who has just found out that their "Other Half" has gone and cheated on them.
This led to a fairly long discussion on if cheating is ever acceptable. The easy answer of course no, never, cut off their balls, hang them etc........
However the more we talked the more we changed our minds, let say I'm in a horrendous car accident, paralysed for life, no chance of a recovery. Is it then fair to say Mistress, you married me so tough, you may live for another 30/40 years but no sex for you, ever. That seems selfish to me. If I was dead I would want the one I love to try and have a full life after I'm gone, so why not if I'm sort of gone?
Equally, if a Woman in a, dare I say normal (what ever that means) relationship goes off sex and decides, that's it, I'm not ever going to do that again. Is that what She is really saying............or is She saying, neither of us are to ever have sex again because I've chosen that and you get no say in it. In a FLM/R that could possible be acceptable, but in a none FLM/R we decided it was not.
A controversial subject I know, but I would be interested in hearing your views thoughts and comments.
Fortunately I'm not in any of those awful predicaments; and hope I never shall be.
WINGE SECTION
I've been "On Call" this weekend, most of the time this involves speaking to the odd idiot who have long since lost all their brain cells. One of these retarded individuals phone me to say there was no mains power in a local village hall. Ok I asked; do the homes nearby have any lights showing, I was assured they did.....ok have you checked the Trips/Circuit Breakers, oh yes came the reply; there all fine. I then spent the next few minutes talking to the plank trying to explain that as homes all around him were showing signs of electricity a Trip etc must have gone. He was having none of it. In the end I drove all the way out there and flicked the trip back on. Clearly the plank cannot read "On/Off" signs! The bills in the post!. Funny how the planks always end up being men, it has to be said Woman tend to be more willing to listen.
Winge over........sorry.........this has however again led me to the conclusion that most men talk but don't listen, one of my biggest selling tools is the power of silence, it speaks volumes at times. Living with Mistress has taught me that my eyes, my expressions and body language are at least equally; if not more so.
During the weekend apart from playing we did some cupboard cleaning out and reorganising. Mistress was dressed in normal jeans and top, I was of course naked apart from a small white maids apron that Mistress had decided I was to wear, and also footwear. The footwear is the important bit, damaged toes can mean loss of work/money. There have been few accidents/damages done during Full On Mistress time due to Mistress thinking things through and then erring on the side of caution. There's something wonderful working together as Mistress/sub, Mistress leading and instructing, us chatting and laughing, totally FLM/R but not rigid, inflexible, stereotypical. With the occasional slap on my bum, or a quick grope and forceful snog we whiled away a few joyful hours.
As I've already asked you all a question, I think it is only fair that you ask me a question, assuming that you want to. I will try and answer it openly and honestly.
May your God go with you.
m
Saturday 13 September 2014
Spanks for the holiday
We arrived in South Wales on Saturday having made better time in the car than expected. Locating the quaint cottage proved slightly more difficult than expected but on finding our abode it was instantly obvious we had made a good choice. Unfortunately Mistress's parents were also holidaying near by and met us there. Within the next 10 minutes, the Mother had told us all about the area, the shops, the walks and hadn't given us time to explore before given us a running commentary on every room. Half the fun is finding out for yourself about somewhere new. I know She was just trying to help, but still!
Fortunately after a brief cuppa they left, we were meant to drop over to see them that evening, but Mistress could see I was flagging after our long drive and said no more driving.
The cottage was first rate, clean, airy, with enough space to breathe, and after we had removed the throws; Mutt took up residence on the sofa. The garden was small, but sufficient, partially overgrown, but not as it turned out Mutt proof. It was claimed in the particulars to be so, I guess they just had not met a Mutt like ours! Sneaky, intelligent and bloody minded. Or "Git" as I like to call him.
The kitchen cupboards smelt of upturned glasses, you know the smell you get if you leave some glasses the wrong way down in a cupboard and the air goes stale. I just had to empty both, wash everything up and spray the cupboards! (The smell returned before before we left).
The following morning I found somewhere safe to let the Git run free and after breakfast we did a bit of exploring. Mistress leading, going where She wanted too, me obediently following on. In the end we simply walked to the local supermarket and got a few things in. Mistress knew I was pushing for a play, and yes I know I shouldn't push, but if you never ask you never get. I always worked on the theory that I should be able to ask Mistress for anything, that way She knows my mind, crystal ball or not. There's little worse than hearing the words, if only you had told me! It's then up to Her to decide if She wants to play ball or not!
As it turned out She had also been thinking of playing, great minds and all that!
Normally I don't go into detail about play, that's between Mistress and I, but in this case I will make a holiday exception, after running Mistress a bath I showered and shaved. Before play it's important to ensure that I am very clean shaven, any Ladies reading this will understand why; I'm sure.
I had brought a selection of Mistresses favourite paddles and in no time I was across Her thighs for a good old fashion spanking and paddling. There is something very demeaning about laying there naked having your arse groped, nice in my case but very demeaning. Mistress started to warm me up, the smacks getting stronger and more frequent until She reached the moment where She decided that, She could really let go. Warming up is very important, it's the difference between playing and hurting and playing and damaging. As I said She then really let me have it. As the strokes went past 300 hundred I lost count. This was a lot harder and longer than normal. At one point I found myself sobbing, pleading, She just kept going! I ended up wriggling, squirming, legs kicking as I tried desperately to get away. Mistress was having none of it She held me firmly and just carried on and on. If I'd had 800 strikes it wouldn't have surprised me. With my arse on fire I was ordered to turn over and lay on my back with my hands underneath my body. No shackles make it a lot harder, it demonstrates the level of control Mistress has over me, obedience in the face of pain and torment. Well...obedient until She gave my cock the the Mother of all slaps. I yelled out in pain. Stuffing Her used knickers into my mouth She carried on Smack.....Slap.....Smack.... I re-attempted to get away in abject agony. The next second; Her foot was rammed into my throat pinning me down. The torment continued. Smack....... Whack...... Smack; followed by ball and cock flicking, one of Her favourites. Then back to the slapping, the agony was immense, the noises I was making must have been loud because the knickers were ripped out of my mouth and She smothered my with Her fantastically sexy bum, pressing down hard; my screams were muffled. Her Endeavours continued, my brain was on fire, burning in ecstasy and agony all at the same time. Eventually I was given the gift of release, that is the moment when everything I accept and comply with make perfect sense. As a man if you have never been there you cannot ever understand. As a Woman you would have to ask Mistress but the feeling of absolute power and control must be all consuming.
Afterwards we lay together, me shattered, exhausted, drained. Post play Mistress is kind, gentle and compassionate. I am given time to recover; allowances are made for my scrambled brains.
I have in the past, not often, seen Dommes in BDSM Clubs just walk off and leave their sub in a right state, the sub trying to collect together the equipment and also attempting to collect themselves. I know, unbelievable; but true. It could be understandable in a domestic setting where the actions might at times be more discipline and punishment than play. Leaving the sub in a state maybe considered acceptable in this case as they should be physically safe, warm and given time to consider their transgression(s). In a club no way, ever! And watching your sub from the side lines while chatting to your buddy just doesn't cut the mustard in my book.
During our break Number 1 Daughter and boyfriend arrived to stay for a few days. While they were with us we spent a day with Mistress's parents and one of Her sisters and Her partner. They had rented two houses next door to each other. Now I'm not one to moan but the Sisters partner is one of those bores who has done everything, brags and plays the blackcat game. You know mines bigger than yours, my car does more miles per gallon, I earn more than you......oh no he cannot play that card as we both know it's not true! Now a days I refuse to rise to the baiting so frustrate him as he doesn't get the response he seeks. I don't throw the money thing at him, there's no point it would just have escalated things with negative consequences. Mistress's Sister is a nice person who has been, and is very helpful, She knows about our lifestyle, but is cool about it. I like Her. Mistress had a good day so it was worth biting my tongue.
On return we went to a local thirst quenching rescue centre; I needed a couple of pints. Munching through an average meal I reflected I was a lucky man and Mistress was a lucky Mistress, imagine being saddled with a bore. What does Her Sister see in him?
Sitting on the loo the other day I noticed a copy of Juno on the laundry basket, left by DN1; so I had a read. It claimed it wasn't just for the hippy laid back individual; however I did notice that all the pictures were of perfect, smiling, happy looking women, mostly young, hippy looking, without a care in the world. The advice was patronising, self obvious and I felt almost demeaning to Woman. The overall suggestion was that unless you dress and live in a certain way, coupled with a baby sling with the perfect baby clinging to you, there was no way you could be fulfilled, whole, perfect. Try doing that living in a drug infested council estate! IMHO It's just female middle class soft porn!
During the week we travelled to various scenic locations; one of which was a very pretty harbour. Boats bobbed gently up and down, rocking drunkenly from side to side. Dogs were running back and forth on the far shore; two braved the tiny waves and strode in before picking up speed forcing the gulls to flee upwards into the rich blue sky.
On finding the inevitable cafe we plumped for tea and cake, well we were on holiday!.
Perching on a rickety collapsable wooden chair I did the honours, pouring tea, adding milk and sugar before giving the mixture a brief brisk stir; ensuring that the dirty spoon ended up on my saucer. Mistress sipped, nibbled, enjoying the view. I started to people watch, The woman next to us was an early sixties grey haired drained woman. On Her own apart from the dog faithfully gazing up at Her. My guess holidaying on Her own, divorced or widowed. Thinking about it widowed the more luckily outcome. She had that beaten lonely lost look, trying to enjoy Her break, single, empty, resigned. Dragging out the drink before having to move on; drifting around with no purpose or direction. A brave face on a beleaguered life. All the other tables contained couples, that always hurts. A dishevelled man mid 50's walked past hand in hand with his Wife/Partner. His other arm dangled uselessly, stroke. That explained the half tucked in shirt, green combat jacket on the piss, laces not done up, boots; black, old, unkept, flys not fully up. They were happily chatting and gripping each other's hand for grim death.
After the cafe we went for a stroll round the town, Mistress got to do one of Her favourite activities, Charity Shops!!! As you can guess not my most joyous activity. Like that makes any difference, we plodded from one to another. I'm always amazed how much crap is packed into these high street wreckers. Even more astounding is the fact that their popular and busy. Replacing the museums and art gallery's ?, people's alternative, a cheap day out.
Going in one grotty, stenchy, musty, i'll lit, colour rich emporium we were met by a grey haired short weather beaten granny, it was obvious that She once had been fat and round, but was now skinny and flabby. What was once a huge bosom, now sagged, lost, small and forlorn. Skin hanging in folds, creased and wrinkly, was there a peanut hidden in the folds?. Radio Wales drifted through to the front of the shop. The discussion was on the Scotland vote.
If your not from the a United Kingdom I will attempt to explain what is going on. The UK is basically made up of England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland. Northern Ireland's the top bit of Ireland, which no one really wants or cares about. Especially Ireland who could have made a play for it years ago but deep down doesn't want the hassle. Thinking about it, the rest of the UK doesn't really want or care about Northern Ireland either, not that the politicians would ever admit to that. Anyway in Scotland there is a chap who runs the SNP, that's a political party up there. His face looks like Mr Potato Head (a child's game) He has managed to pull a blinder and get a vote (referendum) for Scotland to leave the UK and go on their own. With only a few days to go before the Scottish People vote; it looks like he may have just done it and win. All the politicians down south (London) are panicking, they can see their power being reduced. So they have whipped up a media storm and have rushed to Scotland to beg "Old Jock" to stay.
Even radio wales has got in on the act. The vote is next week.
So this takes me back to the women in the shop. As we walked in She shot from behind the counter and spent the next 10 minutes telling us about how bad for Scotland it would be if they left. she was clearly very worked up and concerned, if not frightened.
I smiled and nodded but did not expand the conversation. Mistress had come to shop, not to hear of my views on politics. We left as soon a politely able to!
It was very noticeable how many men walked around in "little boy white socks" why? Don't their wives care; or is it that they no longer choose to notice their man dressed as a clown.
That evening we took N1D and boyfriend out for a curry, it was great, the food surprisingly good considering how busy it was. The company was brill, the jokes flowed, bonding times are always important. It's the sort of occasion when the
Mistress/sub dynamics slip away for a time, gone but not forgotten. Families; family.
The following morning they left, boyfriend had to get back to work, I was sad to see them both go, I was even sadder to find out that they had cleared out the fridge!
..??#**s. Back to the shopping!
Taking the mutt on the beach is always a good laugh, he loves the sand, the space, the wind. He did the most massive turd you can imagine, but as the tide was coming in I left it for the crabs and fishes. I'm so green! On the way back we called into an art gallery Mistress had seen. She knew that I wanted a painting for the dining room. We met a mad French artist and his Wife. He's barking, arty and a bit of an actor. She's lovely, made a fuss of mutt, he adores that, the show off. I saw a painting I loved, Mistress did too, fortunately it was the same one. Only problem it was £800.00. £800.00, talk about how many school dinners? I gave Mistress the signal, can you take a walk, I won't haggle when She's around. Mistress has many many fine qualities, haggling is not ever going to be one of them, She like most people cannot remain quiet at the critical moment. In the past She has cost me an arm and a leg. Mistress took the mutt outside, just as well as a cat appeared. The Artist and I eyed each other up, lines were drawn. I was told he did not bargain.
So, I offered £700; knowing I had no chance. This seemed to confuse him, which was understandable considering what he had just said. I just then stood there, silent, quiet, none confrontational. He finally said no. Ok I replied let's meet you 1/2 way, try £750. His eyes flashed, slightly annoyed, but..... unsure. The music boomed too loudly in the back ground, stopping him thinking clearly, I just stood like a wet lemon, he went to get his wife. I ordered coffee and went outside to rejoin Mistress and mutt. The wife appeared, looking worried, I think he was getting a little stressed inside. She asked for £775, I considered playing for more, but as Mistress was there, it wasn't business, and the best I was going to get was another £25 off, I said ok but I wanted the coffees thrown in, the picture signed on the back and well wrapped. We shook hands, deal done. No way the finest deal of my life, but £25 is £25. Mistress happy. I would have paid full price, but don't tell anyone.
So my take on Wales, sorry South Wales. Great, scenic, the locals very friendly. Which reminds me a couple of years ago we went to North Wales. If you've never been, don't bother. The roads are crap, everything seems to close in the afternoon and the people ignorant. We would go into a shop, the staff were talking in English. As we walked in they switched to Welsh. Oh I haven't told you Mistress is Welsh. You didn't know? neither did the Shop assistants until She opened Her mouth, enough said!
So back to South Wale, go for it. Oh don't go to Scotland, by the time you do it will either be broke and penniless or at war with its self. Plus it's a long way from nowhere and 10 miles past that.
m
Fortunately after a brief cuppa they left, we were meant to drop over to see them that evening, but Mistress could see I was flagging after our long drive and said no more driving.
The cottage was first rate, clean, airy, with enough space to breathe, and after we had removed the throws; Mutt took up residence on the sofa. The garden was small, but sufficient, partially overgrown, but not as it turned out Mutt proof. It was claimed in the particulars to be so, I guess they just had not met a Mutt like ours! Sneaky, intelligent and bloody minded. Or "Git" as I like to call him.
The kitchen cupboards smelt of upturned glasses, you know the smell you get if you leave some glasses the wrong way down in a cupboard and the air goes stale. I just had to empty both, wash everything up and spray the cupboards! (The smell returned before before we left).
The following morning I found somewhere safe to let the Git run free and after breakfast we did a bit of exploring. Mistress leading, going where She wanted too, me obediently following on. In the end we simply walked to the local supermarket and got a few things in. Mistress knew I was pushing for a play, and yes I know I shouldn't push, but if you never ask you never get. I always worked on the theory that I should be able to ask Mistress for anything, that way She knows my mind, crystal ball or not. There's little worse than hearing the words, if only you had told me! It's then up to Her to decide if She wants to play ball or not!
As it turned out She had also been thinking of playing, great minds and all that!
Normally I don't go into detail about play, that's between Mistress and I, but in this case I will make a holiday exception, after running Mistress a bath I showered and shaved. Before play it's important to ensure that I am very clean shaven, any Ladies reading this will understand why; I'm sure.
I had brought a selection of Mistresses favourite paddles and in no time I was across Her thighs for a good old fashion spanking and paddling. There is something very demeaning about laying there naked having your arse groped, nice in my case but very demeaning. Mistress started to warm me up, the smacks getting stronger and more frequent until She reached the moment where She decided that, She could really let go. Warming up is very important, it's the difference between playing and hurting and playing and damaging. As I said She then really let me have it. As the strokes went past 300 hundred I lost count. This was a lot harder and longer than normal. At one point I found myself sobbing, pleading, She just kept going! I ended up wriggling, squirming, legs kicking as I tried desperately to get away. Mistress was having none of it She held me firmly and just carried on and on. If I'd had 800 strikes it wouldn't have surprised me. With my arse on fire I was ordered to turn over and lay on my back with my hands underneath my body. No shackles make it a lot harder, it demonstrates the level of control Mistress has over me, obedience in the face of pain and torment. Well...obedient until She gave my cock the the Mother of all slaps. I yelled out in pain. Stuffing Her used knickers into my mouth She carried on Smack.....Slap.....Smack.... I re-attempted to get away in abject agony. The next second; Her foot was rammed into my throat pinning me down. The torment continued. Smack....... Whack...... Smack; followed by ball and cock flicking, one of Her favourites. Then back to the slapping, the agony was immense, the noises I was making must have been loud because the knickers were ripped out of my mouth and She smothered my with Her fantastically sexy bum, pressing down hard; my screams were muffled. Her Endeavours continued, my brain was on fire, burning in ecstasy and agony all at the same time. Eventually I was given the gift of release, that is the moment when everything I accept and comply with make perfect sense. As a man if you have never been there you cannot ever understand. As a Woman you would have to ask Mistress but the feeling of absolute power and control must be all consuming.
Afterwards we lay together, me shattered, exhausted, drained. Post play Mistress is kind, gentle and compassionate. I am given time to recover; allowances are made for my scrambled brains.
I have in the past, not often, seen Dommes in BDSM Clubs just walk off and leave their sub in a right state, the sub trying to collect together the equipment and also attempting to collect themselves. I know, unbelievable; but true. It could be understandable in a domestic setting where the actions might at times be more discipline and punishment than play. Leaving the sub in a state maybe considered acceptable in this case as they should be physically safe, warm and given time to consider their transgression(s). In a club no way, ever! And watching your sub from the side lines while chatting to your buddy just doesn't cut the mustard in my book.
During our break Number 1 Daughter and boyfriend arrived to stay for a few days. While they were with us we spent a day with Mistress's parents and one of Her sisters and Her partner. They had rented two houses next door to each other. Now I'm not one to moan but the Sisters partner is one of those bores who has done everything, brags and plays the blackcat game. You know mines bigger than yours, my car does more miles per gallon, I earn more than you......oh no he cannot play that card as we both know it's not true! Now a days I refuse to rise to the baiting so frustrate him as he doesn't get the response he seeks. I don't throw the money thing at him, there's no point it would just have escalated things with negative consequences. Mistress's Sister is a nice person who has been, and is very helpful, She knows about our lifestyle, but is cool about it. I like Her. Mistress had a good day so it was worth biting my tongue.
On return we went to a local thirst quenching rescue centre; I needed a couple of pints. Munching through an average meal I reflected I was a lucky man and Mistress was a lucky Mistress, imagine being saddled with a bore. What does Her Sister see in him?
Sitting on the loo the other day I noticed a copy of Juno on the laundry basket, left by DN1; so I had a read. It claimed it wasn't just for the hippy laid back individual; however I did notice that all the pictures were of perfect, smiling, happy looking women, mostly young, hippy looking, without a care in the world. The advice was patronising, self obvious and I felt almost demeaning to Woman. The overall suggestion was that unless you dress and live in a certain way, coupled with a baby sling with the perfect baby clinging to you, there was no way you could be fulfilled, whole, perfect. Try doing that living in a drug infested council estate! IMHO It's just female middle class soft porn!
During the week we travelled to various scenic locations; one of which was a very pretty harbour. Boats bobbed gently up and down, rocking drunkenly from side to side. Dogs were running back and forth on the far shore; two braved the tiny waves and strode in before picking up speed forcing the gulls to flee upwards into the rich blue sky.
On finding the inevitable cafe we plumped for tea and cake, well we were on holiday!.
Perching on a rickety collapsable wooden chair I did the honours, pouring tea, adding milk and sugar before giving the mixture a brief brisk stir; ensuring that the dirty spoon ended up on my saucer. Mistress sipped, nibbled, enjoying the view. I started to people watch, The woman next to us was an early sixties grey haired drained woman. On Her own apart from the dog faithfully gazing up at Her. My guess holidaying on Her own, divorced or widowed. Thinking about it widowed the more luckily outcome. She had that beaten lonely lost look, trying to enjoy Her break, single, empty, resigned. Dragging out the drink before having to move on; drifting around with no purpose or direction. A brave face on a beleaguered life. All the other tables contained couples, that always hurts. A dishevelled man mid 50's walked past hand in hand with his Wife/Partner. His other arm dangled uselessly, stroke. That explained the half tucked in shirt, green combat jacket on the piss, laces not done up, boots; black, old, unkept, flys not fully up. They were happily chatting and gripping each other's hand for grim death.
After the cafe we went for a stroll round the town, Mistress got to do one of Her favourite activities, Charity Shops!!! As you can guess not my most joyous activity. Like that makes any difference, we plodded from one to another. I'm always amazed how much crap is packed into these high street wreckers. Even more astounding is the fact that their popular and busy. Replacing the museums and art gallery's ?, people's alternative, a cheap day out.
Going in one grotty, stenchy, musty, i'll lit, colour rich emporium we were met by a grey haired short weather beaten granny, it was obvious that She once had been fat and round, but was now skinny and flabby. What was once a huge bosom, now sagged, lost, small and forlorn. Skin hanging in folds, creased and wrinkly, was there a peanut hidden in the folds?. Radio Wales drifted through to the front of the shop. The discussion was on the Scotland vote.
If your not from the a United Kingdom I will attempt to explain what is going on. The UK is basically made up of England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland. Northern Ireland's the top bit of Ireland, which no one really wants or cares about. Especially Ireland who could have made a play for it years ago but deep down doesn't want the hassle. Thinking about it, the rest of the UK doesn't really want or care about Northern Ireland either, not that the politicians would ever admit to that. Anyway in Scotland there is a chap who runs the SNP, that's a political party up there. His face looks like Mr Potato Head (a child's game) He has managed to pull a blinder and get a vote (referendum) for Scotland to leave the UK and go on their own. With only a few days to go before the Scottish People vote; it looks like he may have just done it and win. All the politicians down south (London) are panicking, they can see their power being reduced. So they have whipped up a media storm and have rushed to Scotland to beg "Old Jock" to stay.
Even radio wales has got in on the act. The vote is next week.
So this takes me back to the women in the shop. As we walked in She shot from behind the counter and spent the next 10 minutes telling us about how bad for Scotland it would be if they left. she was clearly very worked up and concerned, if not frightened.
I smiled and nodded but did not expand the conversation. Mistress had come to shop, not to hear of my views on politics. We left as soon a politely able to!
It was very noticeable how many men walked around in "little boy white socks" why? Don't their wives care; or is it that they no longer choose to notice their man dressed as a clown.
That evening we took N1D and boyfriend out for a curry, it was great, the food surprisingly good considering how busy it was. The company was brill, the jokes flowed, bonding times are always important. It's the sort of occasion when the
Mistress/sub dynamics slip away for a time, gone but not forgotten. Families; family.
The following morning they left, boyfriend had to get back to work, I was sad to see them both go, I was even sadder to find out that they had cleared out the fridge!
..??#**s. Back to the shopping!
Taking the mutt on the beach is always a good laugh, he loves the sand, the space, the wind. He did the most massive turd you can imagine, but as the tide was coming in I left it for the crabs and fishes. I'm so green! On the way back we called into an art gallery Mistress had seen. She knew that I wanted a painting for the dining room. We met a mad French artist and his Wife. He's barking, arty and a bit of an actor. She's lovely, made a fuss of mutt, he adores that, the show off. I saw a painting I loved, Mistress did too, fortunately it was the same one. Only problem it was £800.00. £800.00, talk about how many school dinners? I gave Mistress the signal, can you take a walk, I won't haggle when She's around. Mistress has many many fine qualities, haggling is not ever going to be one of them, She like most people cannot remain quiet at the critical moment. In the past She has cost me an arm and a leg. Mistress took the mutt outside, just as well as a cat appeared. The Artist and I eyed each other up, lines were drawn. I was told he did not bargain.
So, I offered £700; knowing I had no chance. This seemed to confuse him, which was understandable considering what he had just said. I just then stood there, silent, quiet, none confrontational. He finally said no. Ok I replied let's meet you 1/2 way, try £750. His eyes flashed, slightly annoyed, but..... unsure. The music boomed too loudly in the back ground, stopping him thinking clearly, I just stood like a wet lemon, he went to get his wife. I ordered coffee and went outside to rejoin Mistress and mutt. The wife appeared, looking worried, I think he was getting a little stressed inside. She asked for £775, I considered playing for more, but as Mistress was there, it wasn't business, and the best I was going to get was another £25 off, I said ok but I wanted the coffees thrown in, the picture signed on the back and well wrapped. We shook hands, deal done. No way the finest deal of my life, but £25 is £25. Mistress happy. I would have paid full price, but don't tell anyone.
So my take on Wales, sorry South Wales. Great, scenic, the locals very friendly. Which reminds me a couple of years ago we went to North Wales. If you've never been, don't bother. The roads are crap, everything seems to close in the afternoon and the people ignorant. We would go into a shop, the staff were talking in English. As we walked in they switched to Welsh. Oh I haven't told you Mistress is Welsh. You didn't know? neither did the Shop assistants until She opened Her mouth, enough said!
So back to South Wale, go for it. Oh don't go to Scotland, by the time you do it will either be broke and penniless or at war with its self. Plus it's a long way from nowhere and 10 miles past that.
m
Thursday 4 September 2014
Phew
So DN1 has returned, bright, happy and slightly larger, the baby's growing and DN1 has in Her own words put on a spurt.
I was somewhat nervous of how She would be with me seeing our last parting had been quite brutal, with me flinging around a mythological axe and chopping into Her dreams and illusions. She was however more than fine with me, and as She talked to Her Mother; it became clear my words had sunk in. Mistress was on top form and although She did not realise She probed very gently over old ground with me nodding in agreement but saying very little.
It's been a joint effort but we have helped Her see sense and hopefully saved Her from a lot of anguish. Now we can move forward and help Her, if She wants or needs us to.
Mistress read my last post earlier today and enquired what "toys" would be travelling with us when we go on holiday. She said She was a little confused as She hadn't told me that we were taking anything.
Oops!
Anyway while She was out this evening so I got on with a few chores and unintentionally earned a few brownie points, I might need to cash them in next week.
It has become clear to me; reading other peoples blogs that many see FLM/R to be separate from BDSM. I can see how this can work, but for us I just don't think it would be as satisfying. Equally we would find BDSM without FLM/R unfulfilling. That's not to say anyone's choice is wrong, it just would be wrong for us.
As an older person it's rare that in the world of computers/internet we know more than the sprogs,
However I have just managed to solve a computer/internet problem DN1 was struggling with.
This old man still has ability to impress, well I got lucky, but don't tell anyone!
m
I was somewhat nervous of how She would be with me seeing our last parting had been quite brutal, with me flinging around a mythological axe and chopping into Her dreams and illusions. She was however more than fine with me, and as She talked to Her Mother; it became clear my words had sunk in. Mistress was on top form and although She did not realise She probed very gently over old ground with me nodding in agreement but saying very little.
It's been a joint effort but we have helped Her see sense and hopefully saved Her from a lot of anguish. Now we can move forward and help Her, if She wants or needs us to.
Mistress read my last post earlier today and enquired what "toys" would be travelling with us when we go on holiday. She said She was a little confused as She hadn't told me that we were taking anything.
Oops!
Anyway while She was out this evening so I got on with a few chores and unintentionally earned a few brownie points, I might need to cash them in next week.
It has become clear to me; reading other peoples blogs that many see FLM/R to be separate from BDSM. I can see how this can work, but for us I just don't think it would be as satisfying. Equally we would find BDSM without FLM/R unfulfilling. That's not to say anyone's choice is wrong, it just would be wrong for us.
As an older person it's rare that in the world of computers/internet we know more than the sprogs,
However I have just managed to solve a computer/internet problem DN1 was struggling with.
This old man still has ability to impress, well I got lucky, but don't tell anyone!
m
Pre Escape Blues
Its been one of those weeks, no play, little of anything else. We are both a little stressed over our Daughter and play is not a priority at the moment. My submission continues, the jobs/tasks still are there to be done; and have been.
Also we are both a little holiday happy as we are about to go away on our main holiday at the end of this week.
Boy do I need a break from work! And yes I know I have just had an impromptu week off.
I'm sad to hear of "Im Hers" having back problems, having had some problems myself sometime ago
I know it is horrible and frightening, the what if I cannot work again question starts to form in the back of anyone's mind. The what if I cannot serve my Mistress for me was an even bigger question.
I wish him a speed recovery.
My work involved me being in town early one morning the other day. The town was in the throws of waking up, coffee on the go, breakfast loosely wrapped up from one of the very many fast-food outlets, people scurried this way and that.
I had a few minutes to wait outside the building I was going to work in; as no-one had arrived. There was the smell of freshish vomit, deposited; after the night before club frolics had swept forth onto the sidewalks and roads. The council sweepers had done their job and just the smell remained.
A short distance from me the "Down & Outs" were leaving the hostel, cans opened so that the first fix of the day could be taken. Some of the group; men and women hunkered down on a small green patch of grass across the road from me, taking in the early sunshine, their day already planned and on course. Sad.
Duly my customer arrived and let me in. Not always, but more often that it should; the goal posts were attempted to be moved. i.e he wanted more than agreed; for his buck. I have a very firm policy on this and will not budge, on the bases that I live its a smallish place and if I get that reputation of being a push over, well you get the idea.
As normal there was a few minutes of debate, silence and then acceptance that I would do the job agreed, for the amount agreed but no more. Strangely enough I find that most people tend to respect me more than if I had given in. Even more strangely is the fact that I get repeat business from them. This was the case with this guy, this was the third job in the last couple of years he had given me. Each time he argued the toss and then gave up and put the coffee on!
Where I was working is a multi-use space, combining offices, a public hall and a printers shop. The hall is used by the day by various organisations which as it turned out was a drop in centre for the "Down and Outs". So shortly they started to drift in, to use the facilities (toilets etc) and pick up sandwiches and fruit, all being handed out by two cheery Woman. It was noticeable that the fruit was not to popular, nor the tea and coffee. My tools went straight into the managers office, always a pain when I have to go back and forth for just the right tool, but better that the alternative.
Many of the men looked heaps older than my young 50's, but I suspect the majority were younger than me, I guess a few hard months or years does that, along with the self abuse of one substance or another. I wonder if a Femdom World would allow this? If not; how would they tackle the problem.
Daughter Number One is back home today, we await to see developments, I am a little nervous to see how She is. I'm hopeful that time away from us both has given Her time to reflect, I know it has for me and Mistress. Someone mentioned in another blog that he was moving in with his Mistress/Wife to be, and Her 14 year old Daughter. He said the Daughter was a good Girl, sensible and steered clear of drugs etc. This is of course good to hear. Not sure if its fully true, young teens have a cleaver ability to hide the truth when they want to.
He went on to say (and this really worried me) that he was looking forward to being disciplined by his Mistress in front of the Daughter so that She, the Daughter could see that a man should be submissive to the Woman in his life and accept Her rules and correction. The should we tell the children question has been asked more that once, and in some ways I would like it to be out in the open. However, the but and its a big but (no jokes please I'm on a diet) is that the teen would almost instantly loose any respect for the father/guardian and not follow parental rules, guidance and dare I say discipline (Not beating, but perhaps the loss of pocket money).
This would put all the pressure on the Mistress/Wife/Partner to maintain discipline. It just would not be fair on the Mistress/Wife/Partner to have to take on that heavy load on Her own. Yes I know thousands of single parents have to take on the load, but when there are two of you, opting out just to suite your lifestyle is I think just plain wrong, and will inevitably lead to problems and conflict down the line. I cannot see why the Mistress/Wife/Partner should not take the lead role; backed up by the man, but it is very important that they both maintain a united front. If the man gets it wrong Mistress should tell him in private and then try to find away to correct the problem. If the man feels that the Mistress has got it wrong, he must tell Her, but accept that She may not see it their way and acquiesce to Her ruling.
The danger of the Daughter becoming a Mini-Domme is worrying, what happens when the Lady of the house is out and the Daughter insists that the man pours Her a large Whisky? or demands a Cigarette!
The Daughter will soon pick up that the man does many of the chores around the home, She may not realise that this is not the norm in many house-holds, however She will expected it in Her relationships. I know this to be true. DN1 boyfriends with the exception of one have all cleaned Her Bedroom while She has sat on the Sofa/Bed chatting to them.
We will take a few toys on holiday, and if lucky get to play, I will still do the dishes and most of the cooking. In some ways my submission will be more fulfilled as I will have most time to devote to Mistress. Happy Days!
m
Sunday 31 August 2014
Collars of the mind
There are some feelings that you cannot experience unless your married/collared. To me both are vital, both are the same. Both are commitment, in my case obedience, love, care, and unswerving loyalty. The willing to fight, the willing to die, the willing to turn the other check even though I know I could best them. Being me is hard, being me is great, being me is wonderful and crap at the same time.
Basically being a collared submissive is the best and worse of life.
N1D and I had a bit of a falling out today, being sub doesn't give me the right to absolve myself of a fathers responsibilities, sometimes I have to be brutally honest with myself and with others.
She's about to get it all wrong and I cannot protect Her, life sucks!
m
Basically being a collared submissive is the best and worse of life.
N1D and I had a bit of a falling out today, being sub doesn't give me the right to absolve myself of a fathers responsibilities, sometimes I have to be brutally honest with myself and with others.
She's about to get it all wrong and I cannot protect Her, life sucks!
m
Saturday 30 August 2014
Butt the weekend
The weekend started with a bang, well actually a couple of butt plugs!
Normally Mistress likes to do "Bum Fun" mid week, but as we have Number 1 Daughter staying with us part time this was not possible. Anyway Friday evening N1D was out so Mistress got stuck in so to say.
I had fortunately been given a days notice; which as I've mentioned before really helps, ruffage
cut down, no alcohol etc. To be honest it's been a long week and I was a little fatigued. The important thing is when I'm tired and not quite up for a "Beating" play I don't hide it, so I gently explained this to Mistress. She looked a little disappointed saying She had intended to give me 16 with the cane, not as a punishment, but as play that She really enjoys. Sometimes seeing me truly buck, twist and beg really sets Her on fire. I of course asked Her to give them to me, however Mistress is also my Wife; both love me and She knows I don't play the lie lie game; so She didn't do any impact play. The play was sensual, kind (apart from the ball flicking) and just on a level I could cope with and enjoy. This take a high degree of skill, technique and intelligence; Mistress as usual showed She has all these, I'm very lucky.
After play I had to clean up and put away everything pronto as N1D and boyfriend would be returning later so I didn't have long to snuggle up afterwoods, which is a shame as this bonding ritual is important to me.
N1D and boyfriend got in late, long after we had gone to the land of nod. Just for once I slept through Mutt barking the alert, boyfriend showering and N1D cooking, I had been right I was stuffed in more ways than one as it happens.
In the morning following our early stroll, that's Mutt and I, where we meet as usual all the normal suspects, funny how I know the names of the Dogs but not their owners, I had to fly round the Kitchen; which had turned into a dumping ground during the night. Mistress really doesn't like a messy kitchen.
Boyfriend went off to work and I attempted to persuade both of the Woman in my life to get ready to go out. We were going to visit N1D boyfriend at his place of work. It's a public attraction, historic and not too far way. One way or another we had never been before. If you've ever tried to get two strong dominant Women to move at a pace faster than they want to you will understand the problems I had. The biggest one is that they both want to move at different speeds to each other. joy!
This is when I made my first big mistake of the day. Just before we left I asked Mistress to carry the tickets and car pass to our car as my hands were full of things that were essential for the short journey!
We duly arrived to find the tickets didn't make it to the car. Yes I know; silly me!
Fortunately boyfriend smoothed the way and we didn't have to pay again, phew!
Walking round the historic attraction we took in a free tour, the late middle aged Woman acting as our guide was informative, friendly and interesting. Probably recently retired, with a pudding bowl haircut and bingo wings. She did a lot of arm waving during the tour; and I couldn't help but notice them. Unlike a lot of people who give tours or are helpers at these sort of attractions She didn't suffer from verbal overload on Her subject. So many people clearly spend ages learning every minute fact and are desperate to ensure that everyone they meet knows of their dedication.
Purchasing lunch in the cafe we got a staff discount! I like him! During lunch boyfriend joined us, this is where I made my second mistake of the day. We were chatting away and I made what I thought was a fairly innocuous statement, I forgot that N1D and boyfriend are really anal in a political correct straight jacket sort of way. N1D gave me a right earful, boyfriend scowled. Mistress just looked at me and shrugged, She couldn't really see the problem. I guess we are a little laid back about political correctness, as you get to our age I think you realise that most people have more important things to worry about, like parents who have physical and mental illnesses, the single Woman across the road with a young child desperately trying to provide for it. The old man up the road who's Wife died 20 years ago and lives totally on his own.
Political Correctness is for the young and the idealist, the rest of us just try to get on with life. Occasionally jumping briefly onto the PC wagon; but in the main just struggling through life.
It took a bit of handholding and an ice-cream to get N1D to move on. She explained that She didn't want me to look stupid in front of my customers. Knowing my customers I know 99% wouldn't give a toss! the other 1% would just give me a lecture and feel smug.
During our visit we climbed up and down steps, some uneven. As N1D is pregnant I found myself reaching out to catch Her more than once. The protect instinct stronger than ever. She unconsciously
responded to this wanting to hold my hand and have hugs. We rarely stay mad at each other for long.
Oh my third mistake, they always seem to come in threes, was to share some cheese puffs in the car, so the vacuums out tomorrow!
m
Normally Mistress likes to do "Bum Fun" mid week, but as we have Number 1 Daughter staying with us part time this was not possible. Anyway Friday evening N1D was out so Mistress got stuck in so to say.
I had fortunately been given a days notice; which as I've mentioned before really helps, ruffage
cut down, no alcohol etc. To be honest it's been a long week and I was a little fatigued. The important thing is when I'm tired and not quite up for a "Beating" play I don't hide it, so I gently explained this to Mistress. She looked a little disappointed saying She had intended to give me 16 with the cane, not as a punishment, but as play that She really enjoys. Sometimes seeing me truly buck, twist and beg really sets Her on fire. I of course asked Her to give them to me, however Mistress is also my Wife; both love me and She knows I don't play the lie lie game; so She didn't do any impact play. The play was sensual, kind (apart from the ball flicking) and just on a level I could cope with and enjoy. This take a high degree of skill, technique and intelligence; Mistress as usual showed She has all these, I'm very lucky.
After play I had to clean up and put away everything pronto as N1D and boyfriend would be returning later so I didn't have long to snuggle up afterwoods, which is a shame as this bonding ritual is important to me.
N1D and boyfriend got in late, long after we had gone to the land of nod. Just for once I slept through Mutt barking the alert, boyfriend showering and N1D cooking, I had been right I was stuffed in more ways than one as it happens.
In the morning following our early stroll, that's Mutt and I, where we meet as usual all the normal suspects, funny how I know the names of the Dogs but not their owners, I had to fly round the Kitchen; which had turned into a dumping ground during the night. Mistress really doesn't like a messy kitchen.
Boyfriend went off to work and I attempted to persuade both of the Woman in my life to get ready to go out. We were going to visit N1D boyfriend at his place of work. It's a public attraction, historic and not too far way. One way or another we had never been before. If you've ever tried to get two strong dominant Women to move at a pace faster than they want to you will understand the problems I had. The biggest one is that they both want to move at different speeds to each other. joy!
This is when I made my first big mistake of the day. Just before we left I asked Mistress to carry the tickets and car pass to our car as my hands were full of things that were essential for the short journey!
We duly arrived to find the tickets didn't make it to the car. Yes I know; silly me!
Fortunately boyfriend smoothed the way and we didn't have to pay again, phew!
Walking round the historic attraction we took in a free tour, the late middle aged Woman acting as our guide was informative, friendly and interesting. Probably recently retired, with a pudding bowl haircut and bingo wings. She did a lot of arm waving during the tour; and I couldn't help but notice them. Unlike a lot of people who give tours or are helpers at these sort of attractions She didn't suffer from verbal overload on Her subject. So many people clearly spend ages learning every minute fact and are desperate to ensure that everyone they meet knows of their dedication.
Purchasing lunch in the cafe we got a staff discount! I like him! During lunch boyfriend joined us, this is where I made my second mistake of the day. We were chatting away and I made what I thought was a fairly innocuous statement, I forgot that N1D and boyfriend are really anal in a political correct straight jacket sort of way. N1D gave me a right earful, boyfriend scowled. Mistress just looked at me and shrugged, She couldn't really see the problem. I guess we are a little laid back about political correctness, as you get to our age I think you realise that most people have more important things to worry about, like parents who have physical and mental illnesses, the single Woman across the road with a young child desperately trying to provide for it. The old man up the road who's Wife died 20 years ago and lives totally on his own.
Political Correctness is for the young and the idealist, the rest of us just try to get on with life. Occasionally jumping briefly onto the PC wagon; but in the main just struggling through life.
It took a bit of handholding and an ice-cream to get N1D to move on. She explained that She didn't want me to look stupid in front of my customers. Knowing my customers I know 99% wouldn't give a toss! the other 1% would just give me a lecture and feel smug.
During our visit we climbed up and down steps, some uneven. As N1D is pregnant I found myself reaching out to catch Her more than once. The protect instinct stronger than ever. She unconsciously
responded to this wanting to hold my hand and have hugs. We rarely stay mad at each other for long.
Oh my third mistake, they always seem to come in threes, was to share some cheese puffs in the car, so the vacuums out tomorrow!
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