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
Thursday, 25 September 2014
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
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