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
Sunday, 14 December 2014
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
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