Tuesday 30 December 2014

Xmas

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

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

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