24/7

L and I are in a 24/7 D/s relationship.

It is one thing to say that, and another thing to live it.

Few things in life are truly 24/7, with the exception of a Denny's restaurant.

I think there are others who manage to make that reality than we do, relationships that are more centered around Master/slave than what we have. The reality is, it's just not that easy to keep it up through every second of our lives. I am not always Dominant and L is not always submissive; she is not always serving me and I am not always controlling her. We have busy lives with kids and work and families and now all of that....read my last posting..has expanded upon. As we navigate the course of our day, L is not always looking to me for approval, I am not always giving her directives or stern looks. She does make decisions on her own.

But it is there, hidden, really, beneath all that we do. We might not practice 24/7 D/s, but it is there in its own way. L knows what is expected of her and what the repercussions are if she slips.

Then there is the bedroom where the D/s roars like a lion, where L is not allowed to come to bed without asking permission. A collar is worn, and I do bad things to her. Last night I worked her over with the rug beater so intensely that she is sore and bruised today (longtime readers know that L does not bruise easily) prior to me fucking her up the ass (which is also not always the case).

There have been times when the D/s outside of the bedroom has been stronger than it is now. I am not sure what has changed. I think, in some ways, we have evolved. The D/s does not have to be as evident as it once was because the prior work has created a solid foundation.

Like I said, few things in life are truly 24/7.

With the exception of a Denny's restaurant.

A grand slam breakfast sounds pretty damn good right now. Perhaps I will direct my bruised submissive to go to the nearest one and get me one.

Life Changing Event

I have commented on this blog before about the fact that I have two sons from my first marriage who live with their mom close to 3,000 miles away. This has been the case for four years now, and has always been an empty space in my heart, no matter how good my situation with L and her boys has been. I love being a father, I love my son, and not having them with me...they are ages 7 and 14...has always been so hard. Birthdays and holidays via Skype. Missing once in a lifetime opportunities, from graduating kindergarten to starting high school.

All of that has changed, and all of a sudden.

My older son called me on Monday to inform me of some good news --- the boys and their mom were moving back home, and it was happening within 24 hours. It was intended as a Christmas surprise, which it most certainly was --- it has been six days since that announcement, and I am still in shock. I have gone, in the course of days, from being a father who this last time went close to two years without seeing his boys to now being able to see them everyday.

It is hard for me to articulate just how major this is in my life. I have always felt like I have lived in two worlds, my world with L and her boys and my world with my own children, which was sadly starting to fade away.

No more. This week, two worlds collided. My boys have spent many hours over here at our house, getting to know L and her boys. It is going to take some time. There will be some feelings of jealousy, as my time and attention has to be spread among four boys boys now. L has to get to know my boys, and they have to get to know her....their future stepmom.

So far, so good. We're all in a bit of a shock, I think. I know I am. It's a refreshing feeling to be given everything that you want, but at the same time, now that I have it, I have to figure out what to do with it. It is the ultimate balancing act.

This post has nothing to do with my D/s relationship with L, but it is significant enough to post about it. Our life is not all BDSM and D/s, there are many other woven layers of our lives...that has always been the case...and now, those layers have been added.

I couldn't be happier.

My boys are not spending the night with us yet, we are going to work towards that. My youngest son has autism and is very dependent on schedules and consistency, so our merger is a gradual one.

Tonight when I said goodbye to them we were able to use the clock to determine when we would see each other again.

It used to be a calendar.

Report from Down Under

I suspect a lot of you are waiting to hear about all of the debauchery that occurred during mine and L's trip Down Under.

I hate to tell you this, but you are going to be disappointed.

We didn't get a chance to explore the BDSM like I hoped to. While both Melbourne and Sydney featured BDSM clubs, they weren't open during the times we were there. And because this was a combination business trip and vacation, even being alone in a hotel for close to two weeks didn't really result in any more sessions than we have back home..possibly fewer, to be honest. By the end of the night after walking for what seemed like ever, business appointments, late nights out dining and drinking, all we wanted to do most nights was curl up in our bed and go to sleep.

It was not, however, without its moments. There was the threesome we had in Melbourne with a man I found on Craigslist. There was our last night in our hotel room on the Gold Coast when I dragged L out to the balcony overlooking the beach, using her leash and collar, and had her suck me off while I leaned against the balcony before I kneeled her over a patio chair and pounded her.

It is, after all, L and I, so the likelihood of things ever being vanilla is so rare.

It was a great visit though, Australia is a wonderful country and we packed in a lot in our two weeks there. We had a great visit because we were together. A sure sign of a solid relationship is being able to survive close to 24 hour of flying and still being happy to be with each other when all is said and done. That isn't because of the D/s, that is because of of just how good we are together and how much we love each other.

So...sorry to disappoint. I know you were expecting more.

But here's the good news.

We are traveling to New Orleans next month, and if any city knows how to do debauchery, it's that one.

Going Down Under

Thanksgiving has come and gone, with lots of time spent with family. We hosted Thanksgiving at our house and had a very nice time, albeit with all of the prepping, cleaning and cooking that goes into hosting. We have developed, over the last couple of years, a real good rhythm of hosting big dinners at our house. There really aren't any D/s dynamics that guide what we do in those instances; L is not obeying my every command and direction. We just do it, well, as a functioning team. I like to handle a majority of the cooking, and as that responsibility has always fallen on L in the past, she is more than happy to give me the reigns. Our growth as a couple has occurred in so many ways. We are just good together.

In just three days we will be off to Australia and New Zealand for close to two weeks. I'm going for work, and L is coming along. As neither of us has been there before, and because we are in the depths of our winter while they are heating up, we are looking forward to the sun and surf and having new adventures together. We are great travel partners...like almost all of the same things and are quite patient. However, that patience will be tested with the incredible amount of hours of flying we have to do to get to our destination.

That's fine though.

And, of course, with being anonymous in another country, comes the opportunity to play. To shed inhibitions. There is a pretty kinky mindset with the Australians, and in Melbourne and Sydney I have located some opportunities for us to explore in public. Nothing set in stone yet, and L, of course, will follow my lead and go along with whatever I decide for us.

I promise to share what that is after it happens.

G'day mate.

Indeed.

Toy Story

Keep meaning to post about this. About two weeks ago I ordered another collection for the toy box from stockroom.com..the appropriately called "rug beater" which consists of a steel cable encased in a plastic loop and attached to a heavy metal grip.

It has been a great addition to the variety of toys I have at my disposal to use on L's ass as often as I can. This one has a great impact on her ass, creating a red mark almost instantaneously. We were certain that this was the one that would lead to those bruises that I keep striving for, but believe it or not...even after a lengthy session she wakes up with her ass looking as pristine and unused as ever.

Pretty sure there is some dark magic involved with her ass.

It's particularly useful because it isn't that loud, and for us, a main criteria for which toy gets used at night is how quiet it is. Such is BDSM in Mayberry, where sessions are conducted not in accordance to the needs of the Dominant, but, rather, in accordance with the ears of the children who don't need to be traumatized by knowing what I gleefully do to their mother.

Before I came home at lunch time today I instructed L to be waiting for me in the bedroom with an implement of her choosing from the ever expanding toy box. Imagine my surprise when I came in the bedroom, and she was looking especially beautiful kneeled on the floor with a dress on and no panties. I grabbed at her hair and pulled at it.

"So what did you choose?" I asked her.

"Your hand," she said. "We have the house to ourself."

Choosing my hand wasn't one of the options, but only because I didn't even think of it.

I went with it.

That was today though, when there were no kids, and we could make some noise. It's late at night now, kids are in bed, so the hand isn't an option.

Thank goodness though for other options.

I think about fucking you a lot

Email from S to L the morning of November 13

Pet:

I think about fucking you a lot.

Probably more than I should in all honesty. It's a distraction at times. I think that my constant sexual thoughts of you borderline obsession. I think that, but I don't worry about it. Hard to find any type of fault of being sexually obsessed with the woman you deeply love. 

I don't always act upon those feelings. Yesterday afternoon, for instance, when I was pressed against you rock hard. Right now, for instance, I could get in the car and come home and fuck you and go back to work.

Practicality and my workload gets in the way of living out those obsessions. Kids at night...sometimes being too tired...

But I think about fucking you a lot.

And not just fucking..but EVERYTHING that we do. The sucking and the caning, the flogging and the choking, the hair pulling and the kissing..touching you...tasting you...your wetness, my hardness, the feeling of erupting inside of you...your riding me...your fucking back against me while I am on top of you...the words you sometimes say...the cock worshipping (btw, your Sir is in need of a serious cockworshipping session from you)..EVERYTHING...

Your cunt...your ass...your mouth...

All of which I own.

I think about fucking you a lot.

I think that I might just have to fuck being practical at some point today, and simply come home and fuck you.

--Sir

Reply to above email from L:

Sir

Please do it now!

Your obedient pet

Reply from S to L:

I'll be there at 11:30.

Two hours later I was sitting in a meeting, and I could still sense L's presence on my cock...the stickiness...the wetness..still there.

And before I knew it..

I was thinking of fucking her once again.

training

L is currently a stay at home pet, so I decided today that I need to start taking better advantage of her free time to work on a couple of items that have been in need of correction.

Email from S to L the morning of October 28, 2014:

Pet:

We have waited long enough in regards to this whole issue you have with me coming in your mouth. The book I read from said it best where the sub talked about how it is an act she despises as well but the fact that she does it shows how important it is to please her Master. You are quite good at pleasing me sexually but at the same time, you derive pleasure from those actions as well. For things that you truly do not like doing, getting you to do them is something else altogether.

All that being said, I will be home at lunch. I will meet you in the bedroom. You will get on your knees. You will undo my belt, pull down my pants and underwear, take my cock out and suck on it in the wonderful way that you do. You will not stop. I will come in your mouth. You can keep tissues by your side to spit it into when you are done.

The training begins today. No more putting it off.

Afterwards, I will enjoy the lunch you prepared for me and go back to work well taken care of by my pet.

Let me know if any of this is unclear or if you have any questions.

--Your Stern Sir 

And you know what? 

That is exactly what happened.

Well, for the most part.

I had lunch first.

p.s. Both were quite good.

oh the things that we do

This weekend we had a particularly kinky weekend, which says a lot, since being kinky plays a role in mine and L's lives on a daily basis. The level of kink varies, of course. Some nights (oh so rare, those nights are) go by where we do not participate in any type of sexual activity. The cane stays in the closet, and we kiss each other good night like June and Ward Cleaver.

But it is never THAT vanilla, no siree. Even on nights where we don't do anything...did I mention those nights are exceptionally rare...there is still a degree of kink involved. L does not go to bed without her collar. L does not go to bed without kneeling before me, on my side of the bed, and asking permission to sleep in my bed with me. I always allow her, but one of these nights, when she is not expecting it, I will tell her no, that she can sleep at the foot of the bed or on the floor next to me. This would not be for a punishment, but as a reminder that sharing a bed with me is a privilege, not a right.

So, no...absence of sex does not equate to your beloved S and L falling back on vanilla times.

This weekend, in particular, was not even close to vanilla. We got a hotel room and had a deliciously kinky time, we danced with the taboo and the forbidden, turned our backs on normalcy and decency, and did...well, shit...how else to put it?

We did those things that we do.

It is a wonderful thing, what we have...and what other loving couples in this lifestyle have.

Our live's have not always been this way.

I was married prior to being with L, and with my ex-wife, had a more than two year period where there was no sex or intimacy involved. It was an exceptionally lonely time in my life. I, of course, was not aware of this side of me yet..the Dominant side, the sexually assertive side of me, that demanded control in the bedroom and other aspects of my life, that craved the kneeling and worshipping of a submissive woman. I had no clue at all. I knew I had a highly sexual side of me that was clawing inside of me, wanting to emerge from my cocoon. It was there.

My marriage ended. I moved on. I met L. We stormed through our life together on an out of control roller coaster.

The roller coaster stopped moving some time ago, came to a halt, and we emerged in great shape.

And here we are now.

We did those things that we do this weekend, but we also decorated the house for Halloween, took children to hockey practice, hosted a birthday party for  family members. To those peering in, we do appear to be like June and Ward Cleaver.

We enjoy that side of our lives, the domesticity. That part of our lives is also our true nature.

Just as much as the other side of our lives is.

Memos to my pet

Ever since L and I embarked on our D/s journey in May 2012 (has it been that long?) one of the many constant regularities has been L receiving from me a daily memo by way of email. Well, for the most part. There have been some "hiccups" along the way and there have been times there have been no memos.

But for the most part, they are quite consistent. They typically are not sent on weekends unless one of us is out of town. They are usually sent on weekdays, sent from me at work to L at work...from me not at work to L at work...from me at work to L not at work.

They always start off the same way. "Monday memo to my pet" will be the subject line for tomorrow, and so on, and so forth. For awhile there when we observed Fucktoy Friday the memo was "Friday memo to my Fucktoy." Last Monday, my first memo after I proposed to her, the memo was "Monday memo to my fiancee." On the rare occasion, L has sent the memo to me first.

Our relationship started because of emails between the two of us. It continues to thrive because of emails between the two of us. I do not know how many emails have been exchanged over the years.

My memo will typically start off by reflecting on whatever happened between us the night before and will almost always offer some declaration of love. Sometimes, if I am not pleased with what happened the night before or that morning, it will be a scolding and expectation of what is going to happen later that day.

A couple of months ago I started administering some rules over how L has to reply to my memo. I put a timeframe of having her reply within half an hour after receiving it. I gave her directives that her reply has to start off with "Sir" and end with "Your Obedient Pet."

L is almost never as verbose as I am with my memos. Some of my memos are brief, some fill up the entire screen. I am a writer. Words come to me.

Sometimes if L does not respond within the timeframe, I ask her if my words bore her...if she would prefer not to read them.

She begs forgiveness, types, and hits send.

The memos always start off with some acknowledgment of our D/s relationship, but over the course of the day they typically transcend into the day to day...who is going to pick up our youngest from day care, what bills have to be paid, what we are having for dinner. Vanilla topics, for the most part, but all under the subject line of "....... Memo to my Pet."

I think a lot about what I am going to put in my memo to L each day, type it out, and hit send. I always look forward to that reply from her, just as she looks forward to opening up her email and seeing that message from me in her inbox.

As I said, our relationship  began because of words, because of thousands of emails exchanged between two lost souls.

Those souls are no longer lost, I am happy to report.

But the words continue to flow, with a cadence and rhythm that only we understand. We type our thoughts out, our feelings of love, and hit send.

And on either end, after we hit send we do the same thing.

Refresh.

Refresh.

Refresh.

She said yes

Last night at L's favorite restaurant, with the pianist playing her favorite song "Tiny Dancer" in the background, I got before her on one knee, presented her with a ring, and asked her to marry me.

She said yes.

The journey of S and L advanced to the next level.

p.s. We will be registering at stockroom.com if anyone is interested.

More

...photos of my pet from her surprise photo session.

Homecoming...and a surprise

The ten days have come and gone, and I am back with L. We had, as we expected, one of our usual homecomings where after she greeted me at the airport we dashed home (we live five minutes from the airport) and went straight to the bedroom to do the things that we said we were going to do in what was possibly 1,000 text messages and emails exchanged between us while I was gone.

When you are used to fucking every single day, 10 days seems like an eternity. "Good luck getting it in there," she teased me the day before I was coming home.

I managed just fine, and not in a gentle way.

Absences for L and I can be tough, but also beneficial. They help reaffirm that which is already known tenfold, that we need each other, more importantly, we need each other in the manner that we have defined our relationship. "I feel lost without you," L told me in an email today, and the feeling is mutual.

L told me she had a surprise planned for me when I got back, and I had no clue what it was, could not even begin to guess what it was. A hint of that surprise was revealed to me a few nights ago when L texted me two erotic and professionally done pictures of her.

She looked amazing.

This was her surprise, my dear little pet, who hates having her picture taken, scheduled a session with a female photographer who specialized in erotic photography. It took place in a hotel room. None of them, she told me, had her in the nude, but had her in lingerie, wearing one of my shirts (and little else), taking off underwear....lots, she told me, of her legs. Which are perfect.

"You should have pictures of your property," she told me. "It's only right."

She revealed the two pictures to me when I had about five days left in my trip. To say the least, seeing those two images of her...one had her wearing a matching purple bra and panty set with an overcoat on, the other a black and white closeup of her face...made we want to come home even sooner.

But those two pictures weren't the kicker.

There was the one she sent me two nights before my return.

The one you see above.

Yes, I know...I am damn lucky.

And the best part of the surprise?

The pictures she showed me were just the tip of the iceberg. We're still waiting for the rest of the pictures.

I can't wait to see them. But the best part is that I get the real version of those pictures, each and every night, and whenever I want.

Return of the flogger

For months now, our flogger has been missing.  Simply gone. We had a session, and the next day, it was nowhere to be found.

Things get fuzzy during sessions, for L as well as me. There is Dom space just as much as there is subspace. After an intense session, the toys don’t get put away immediately. Never a wise move in a house full of kids. Sometimes it is just a matter of something ending up on the end of the bed, then covered under blankets. Or it slips under the bed. Or…God forbid…the dog finds it and takes it way under the bed.

Such is the way of life with BDSM in suburbia.

I tore the bedroom up looking for the flogger. It was one of our favorites. L got it for me for my birthday in 2013, it has this wicked little steel tips at the end and makes very nice marks, and I always loved the way it felt in my hand.

Could not find the damn thing anywhere.

In the back of my mind, I envisioned a horror story of our youngest finding it and dragging it off into his bedroom. Or that it made its way into a pile of dirty clothes and down to the laundry room, where one of the older kids found it, and, rather, than question why we had it, simply threw it away.

It was gone for months.

Last night I was sorting through my side of the closet, getting out clothes for a business trip I left on today. First time L and I would be apart for quite some time. I, of course, wanted to make our last night together in 10 days a memorable one, but we have had a bunch of other issues…work, family, health…that were getting in the way of us spending too much quality time together.

Imagine my surprise…dare I say, delight…when I pulled out a shirt from the back of the closet, and, there, hanging out of the pocket, was the flogger.

It was like being reunited with a long lost friend.

When we went to bed last night for our parting session, I surprised L with its finding. I used it hard for a fair amount of time. Who reacted better, I don’t know. My hardness was equally matched by L’s wetness. It has an amazing feel to it, leaves amazing marks…and is about as perfect as it comes.

We lost one of the steel tips last night. It fell off after one particularly hard lash.

That’s how perfect it is.

The flogger is back, but, sadly, I am gone, writing this from an airport bar while L is home in our bed and the flogger is back..safe and sound…in the toy chest in the top corner of my closet where it belongs.

I’ll be home in 10 days. Seems like an eternity when you are in love.

But L will be there in bed waiting when I return..her ass raised in the air.

And the long lost flogger will make another return as well.

the sub who wouldn't swallow: a fable

Once upon a time in the far, far north there lived an obedient but albeit sassy sub who lived to please her Sir in every way possible.

She lived for serving him. She made sure he had his coffee every morning, she wore whatever panties he chose for her her, she kneeled before him on command, she wore her collar to bed every night...every detail specified in the contract she happily signed, she did. She made sure that each and every night, Sir had an orgasm.

She was, as she tried to be, a good girl.

With one exception.

She could not swallow Sir.

She had no problem sucking on Sir. Relished it, to be specific. Sometimes, she could not wait to have him in her mouth. They would be in the middle of a session and she would start opening her mouth like a little bird, and inching her head over her Sir's hardness, wanting him in her mouth. Wanting that feeling of his smooth and soft head sliding in, followed by the inches of his hardness. Wanting him to grab the back of her head and fuck her mouth. Wanting that feeling of sucking...of pleasing.

With one exception.

The swallowing.

When she sensed that Sir was getting close, she would withdraw, and beg for him to fuck her.

"Please Sir," she would say. "It's so tight and ready for you."

She just could not handle the thought of him erupting in her mouth.

It was, in part, due to the force of her Sir's ejaculate. She had, once upon a time, nicknamed him "buckets" because of the amount that shot out of him upon release. She encouraged him to pursue a career in the porn industry, where his money shot would be the talk of legends.

She did, truth be told, admire the force of his orgasms.

But not in her mouth.

That, she could not handle.

Sir wanted it of course. He wanted to hold her head firmly against his crotch when he came, to force her to suck out every...last...drop. He wanted her to swallow. He wanted that release, that feeling of his pet miking out every bit of his cum, and continuing to suck on him until his hardness evaporated into softness in her mouth.

He did want that.

But Sir was a kind Sir, and cognizant of his pet's dislike for such an act, so though there were times he said he was going to come in her mouth, he would stop at the last second, and then fuck her. The fucking would not last long.

His orgasms filled her up.

If it were during the day, she would spend the rest of the day with Sir dripping out of her. Leaking thorough her panties with his cum.

He enjoyed that.

Just not the same as a good old fashioned swallowing that he expected from his cum-slut.

"It will take time," his sub said, usually pouting.

The one day a lion was walking through the jungle and he stepped on a thorn that got stuck in his paw and he could not get it out. Then a mouse came along, and it was a mouse that the lion contemplated eating earlier but didn't, and the mouse said he would pull the thorn out of the lion's paw but he was not strong enough. Then a genie came along, and he said that he would give the mouse the strength to pull the thorn out of the lion but only if the sub in the Far North would swallow her Sir's cum.

"That is a ridiculous fable," said the sub in the Far North. "It makes no sense whatsoever."

"There is a lion in pain because of your stubbornness," said Sir. "It's in your hands. Actually, your mouth."

"Fuck," said the stubborn sub. Then she took her Sir in her mouth and sucked away like the exceptional cocksucker she was, and when he came, she swallowed

every

last

drop

Back in the jungles of Africa, the thorn miraculously fell out of the lion's paw on its own, which meant the mouse and the genie had little to do in its removal, and the three of them went to an IHOP and enjoyed a delightful breakfast together. Then the lion killed the mouse.

Moral of the story: Just swallow your Sir already. Jesus!





"

content

It's early Saturday morning here in the Far North. Fall has arrived already, and there is a chill and crispness in the air. The leaves are falling. The weekend holds in store for us winter preparation, working in the yard, rolling up the hoses, mowing the lawn on more time. It would be a nice evening to get out the firepit.

L is still sound asleep. It was a stressful work week for her, a very busy work week for both of us, so I let her sleep in while I got up early to take the middle child to hockey practice. I joked around with L last night how she better make sure to set her alarm and when she gets up to take him, to be sure and not wake me up as I needed my rest. Oh, sure, I could have made her do that...but that is not how this Dom rolls. If she is going to serve me in the way that I require, she needs to be well rested and healthy.

So I got up, made the run to hockey practice, and settled in with my laptop to work on the two online classes I am teaching for the local community college. Drank my coffee, listened to the radio. Enjoyed the silence of the morning.

Work done, and I opened up the blog. I felt moved to write...something.

I was going to write about an extreme session we had last weekend, one where the after effect was that I had to give L's ass a break for a couple of days as I worked her over pretty damn hard with a combination of the belt, bamboo rod, and cane. I was going to write about how I led her across our bedroom with her leash, over to the full length mirror on the door, and had her do delicious things to me while I watched in the mirror. 

I was going to write about that.

But the words are not coming to me. Not for THAT, anyway.

Sorry to disappoint. 

I guess what I do want to say is that it is an early Saturday morning here in the Far North. Fall has arrived already, and there is a chill and crispness in the air. But here in our house, with my naked pet asleep in the bed that I giver her permission to sleep in every night, there is a warmth that keeps the chill away. 

I guess what I do want to say is that...I am happy. 

Content.

Peaceful.

That is about all that I have on this early Saturday morning here in the Far North.

p.s. Writing this posting reminded me that I have a naked pet sleeping in our bedroom, and the thought of going in there and fucking her seems like a very good one indeed.

consistency

With school now underway, the days are getting long for L and I. It is often times not until after 10p.m. that we are settled into our bedroom when all is said and done. L’s workload and stress in her job has increased as of late, and it sometimes shows in some of her mannerisms. It takes her some time at the end of the day and evening for her to roll into submissive mode, and I can’t say I blame her. She is tough at nails at her job, even dominant at times and deals with a lot of difficult people and in the case of some of her co-workers, deals with stupid people that test her patience. 

She was, at one time, not a very patient person but I like to think that our D/s journey has helped her find patience she never had, both at work and at home. It is fascinating when I stop and think of the change these dynamics has had on both of us and how it has strengthened our partnership.

She’s very good at her job, and I am proud of the work she does, both at work and at home. She’s a hard worker and a very smart woman, and I recognize each and every day just how damn fortunate I am that she gave herself to me.

So, yes, the days have been long and it is late at night before we find time to ourselves. I think a lot of times L would prefer that we do nothing, that we simply go to sleep, but it is rare if ever that I allow that to happen. I stick to my guns and keep things consistent. Last night she tried to get away with coming to bed without showering first, which she did, but in what best can be described as a “huff” as she went into the bathroom. I require her to kneel before my side of the bed before she settles in for the night, I require her to wear her collar, and I require her to be naked. She will typically fuss about all of these things, maybe, hoping, that the wishy-washy Dom who existed back when we first started this would return, and I would give her a break.

But I don’t give her a break. The wishy-washy Dom died a long time ago, and emerging from his ashes was a stronger and confident Dom who knew the important of consistency and routine in making this all work.

I stick to my guns. Consistency. What happens when all of the above is complete will often vary, with the exception of one thing, and that is that we do not the end the day without me receiving sexual pleasure of some sort. But there are other things. Last night I gave her a very serious and intense caning with the bamboo stick (which is perfect) that lasted quite some time and had L slip sliding away into the neverworld of subspace quite quickly. Some nights it will be the spreader bar, others the handcuffs. A hair brush on the ass, a spanking of the pussy, a squeezing of the neck…whatever I feel works at the time. Then with all of that comes the inevitable. The wetness. The hardness.

The fucking.

Good god, the fucking.

With these long days, I sometimes feel like I have to drag L kicking and screaming into our world, but I drag away (usually by grabbing her hair), and before long, kicking and screaming is replaced with dripping and moaning. We do our thing, the late hour continues, and then it is over, and L asks permission to go to sleep, and she crashes immediately and sleeps a solid sleep that I don’t think would come without doing all of those things that she complains about doing.

Me, though, I don’t sleep right away. As I explained to L last night, my adrenaline kicks in after a good session, and even after I have exploded inside of her, her deliciously tight cunt squeezing every drop out of me, I am fully awake. I grant her permission to sleep. I stay awake for a bit, content and satisfied, and begin thinking ahead. To the next night. When she crawls in bed with me, and we do our dance again.

The care and feeding of a slut

The proper care and feeding of a slut

A few weeks ago I took in an outdoor production of Shakespeare’s “As You Like It.” I was surprised in the middle of one scene where the following line was delivered by Touchstone, the court jester:

“Truly, and to cast away honesty upon a foul slut were to put good meat into an unclean dish.”

Foul slut? Did I hear correctly? I wasn’t aware that the word “slut” existed in the days of the Bard, so, when I got home, I did a little research into its origins.

Turns out it has been around for quite some time. It first appeared in Middle English in 1402 as the word “slutte” with the meaning of a “dirty, tidy, or slovenly woman.” The way we know it today as a sexually promiscuous woman dates back to at least 1450.

So, turns out, sluts have been around for a long time.

It’s only in the last two and a half years that I have happened to own one.

I take that responsibility very seriously. Not everyone gets a chance to own a slut, but I do. Got one in my bed each and every night. Granted, she has to ask permission to come to my bed, but she does. In true slut fashion, she gets into bed naked and prepared to do whatever I desire to her, using whatever hole I find appealing at the time.

Sluts are a lot of fun to have around.

But they require a lot of work as well.

It’s well worth it, though. The proper care and feeding and taking care of a slut, the nurturing and loving of a slut, these are all proper components. If you were to be so lucky, like me, have a slut sent to you or fall into your possession, please be sure to read the instructions that come with her properly.

It’s not like she’s a Gremlin and you have to worry about getting her wet, which is good, because sluts, by the nature of who they are, get wet easily. You can feed them after midnight. They like to be fed. They have three holes in which they can be fed.

That aside, here are some of the rules:

• You have to love your slut with all of your heart.

• You can call her a slut, but make sure she knows that she is your slut alone. That is what they live for.

•  Sluts need to be spanked if they are bad. Actually, they need to be spanked if they are good as well

•  In some instances, they are a “cum slut” or a “fucking slut.” Most likely, in those instances, they are having their face buried in the pillow while you fuck them from behind.

•  Sluts deserve flowers and cards, gifts and gestures, to show them how much you care for them. How much you care for them as a slut.

• Sluts are insatiable. Be prepared to respond accordingly

• You can fuck and abuse your slut all that you want, but give her time to rest and recuperate, because broken sluts do not work properly.

• Be faithful to your slut and your slut alone. Being given a slut is a gift. Respond accordingly.

I could write so much more on this topic, but will save it for my upcoming book. And besides, L and I just had a fairly vanilla weekend. It is Sunday night, and I need to step inside of the bedroom and make her feel like a slut.

Privileges versus rights

A few postings ago I wrote about how I was looking for a new level to take mine and L's D/s relationship. A few postings, and perhaps a few weeks later, I can say that things have changed.

The change that has taken place has been on educating L more on what things in her life with me and us are rights, and which things are privileges. I wanted to help her understand how much she had truly given up, how much she had handed over to me, when she agreed to the terms of our contract and when I proudly collared her.

Because L is really a lucky girl at the end of the day. She is allowed a great amount of freedom given the nature of our relationship and the role she plays. I'm quite kind to her. She will be the first to admit to that. We read stories of what happens in other D/s relationships, have read many blogs and books where the submissive is subject to many restrictions and strict rituals that make ours look pale in comparison.

This is not to say that what they do is the model, or what I was looking for. People do in these relationships what works for them, and one Dom and sub needs does not hold true for everyone.

Still, we can learn from these readings and discovering what others have to say, and as I thought about what I needed out of this relationship, what my expectations of L are, I knew that some of this was in line with the direction that I had been wanting to go in.

Helping L understand those things in her life that are rights.

And those things that are privileges.

Email from S to L on July 28:

Pet:

As I was saying, it is time to take things up a notch in terms of helping you understand and appreciate those things in your life with me that you have a right to and those things that you are privileged to. Really, though, it is quite simple. Any aspect of your life that has anything to do with me (and, really, that includes everything, as your entire life is supposed to revolve around me) is a privilege. That being said, there are some basic things (a few) that you are entitled to.

One of the best ways I can think of to help you appreciate those things that you are privileged to is to take them away from you for an amount of time so you appreciate them when you do have them. Being able to use your phone in bed to check Facebook and whatnot is a privilege that you get, if you were to not have that for an amount of time, you would recognize it as a privilege. I will not go full board on this right away, maybe small things here and there and make it a work in progress and when all is said and done, you would be so appreciative of the little things that I allow you in life.

One of the biggest privileges you get is to share a bed with me each and every night. It truly is a privilege. You are privileged to get the attention of my hand on you every night, you are privileged to get the pleasure of my cock inside of you, and all of the other things that occur in bed. 

So starting tonight, before we settle in for the night, you will do as follows. You will come over to my side of the bed and kneel before me, head down, and ask:

"Please Sir, may I lie in bed with you tonight?"

I am sure in most instances I will say yes to you, though from time to time to help you appreciate that privilege, I may have you lie down at the foot on the bed, unclothed and untouched, for a short amount of time so that being allowed to lie next to me and receive attention from me (even painful attention) is like heaven. Or I might have you lie on the floor next to me while I am in bed.

This subject of privileges will be an ongoing conversation that I will develop with you, with much more to come.

That being said, here are the short amount of things you are entitled to:

1. You have a right to be taken care of by me.

2. You have a right to be loved me.

3. You have a right for me to be honest and faithtful to you.

4. You have a right to tend to the needs of your children.

5. You have a right to be healthy, mentally and physically.

6. You have a right to be employed.

There might be other. I considered "You have a right to breathe." but you know what, I like to take that right away from you as well, my big hand around your neck and squeezing tightly, watching the reaction on your face, then letting go and watching as you gasp in the air....privileged for that opportunity.

Let me know if any of this is unclear of if you have any questions.

--Sir

Reply from L to S on July 28:

Sir-
 
No questions and thank you for clarifying things.  I will forever be your obedient pet.

Ever since that posting almost two weeks ago, before L has come to bed with me, she has had to do exactly that. She comes over to my side of the bed...sometimes naked, sometimes collared...and kneels before me; head down, no eye contact, as I have directed her. She asks permission to come to bed with me.

I have always said yes so far.

But I take my time.

I take my time and rest my foot on her back and head while she kneels before me. I contemplate the situation. I ask her if she realizes how fortunate she is to lie in bed with me, to be touched by me in the manner that I do; and she says, yes Sir, I do...and then I pause, and then I eventually say "You may come to bed with me," and if she is wearing her collar, I will use it to lift her head and half drag her on to the bed, and then I do.....oh, you know...I do those things to her.

It's added a nice little ritual to our evening, and most definitely sets the tone in a new way for us. I am thinking of other ones to add on, but slowly, and deliberately, because I want them to have some type of meaning to them.

And so it continues.

You know you're a real Dom when...

...filling out an online form you have to tell your pet to click on the above button because you just can't bring yourself to do it.

Tuesday musings

L and I had some time alone this weekend at a lodge out of town, courtesy of my new job and some of the little perks that come with it. My new career is off to a good start, and it has some very nice travel benefits that L and I are looking forward to, to include a trip to Australia in December (which is not a bad time at all to get away from life in the Frozen North).

We were looking forward to it just as much for the peace and quiet as well as the chance for some no holds barred kink. We seem to be moving in a new direction as far as limits are concerned, mainly in terms of roughness that goes beyond the typical (yawn!) nightly caning. Breath play has become more and more common in our sessions, equally pleasurable for both of us. I talk a lot about hauling L off into the woods somewhere close to where we work (again, a perk of where we live) and raping her. Tying her to a tree. Doing bad things to her, rough things, things that might make her cry out and make me put a ball gag in her mouth to silence her. We talk about these things...well, I tell her about these things...and she gets wet, and I get hard, and then we are fucking.

And we like all of.....this.

During our weekend alone, I had L sit in a chair in our hotel room. I handcuffed her hands behind her, attached the spreader bar to her ankles and ran it between the chair legs, and blindfolded her. It was, without question, the most restrained and helpless she has been.

I kept her that way for awhile. I sat on the bed in front of her and observed her, took pictures of her. I savored the moment. I would go over from time to time and pull at her tits, slap at her face, choke her. I told things to her. I inserted the neck of the champagne bottle we had just consumed into her cunt. It was not a problem. She was soaking.

I kept at this for awhile before taking everything off of her and then had her kneel in front of the chair, hand cuffed her hands again, and caned her. After that, I removed her cuffs again, and sat in the chair while she sucked on me before I instructed her to ease back into me and ride me while I sat in the chair.

It was, as you can imagine, quite good and satisfying. L was deep into the world of subspace, so quite able to do whatever I asked of her. We slept a good sleep that night, soaking in the silence of our surroundings as well as the satisfaction in what we had done and who we were.

These alone times are important. We do quite well at home given the full house we normally have, with hardly a night going by where something does not happen, thanks to a locked door and a loud television to drown out the sounds that emit from our bedroom. But it is nice to not worry about those things, to do whatever we want without any censorship.

Yesterday I got my new whip in the mail, it is pretty damn wicked and makes a great sound when I strike it across L's ass. I used it as much as I could last night, but the great sound it makes is also a loud sound, so there was only so much I could do given that we could turn the television up only so loud before that in itself drew suspicion.

I wished I had had the whip during our weekend alone. It would have been a great addition.

It needs to be used properly.

Which means another weekend alone should not be too far off in the future.

piss

I have given L a number of golden showers since we entered this journey; we have both found it exciting in our separate ways and both of us have been surprised by that reaction. I have always viewed  it as marking my territory in an exceptionally primal way; for L, it has been a very submissive act.

I have, however, always been curious about being on the receiving end from L. I haven't viewed this fantasy as me wanting to submit to L. Exact opposite. For me, it has been about ownership. I own L and the cunt between her legs, therefore, I own the piss that comes out of that cunt. I have always wondered what it would be like to deny her pissing and when I do finally let her, it has to be on me.

L always openly pisses in front of me, she has no problem sitting down on the toilet with the bathroom door wide open, her panties around her ankle, and taking a piss. I always like the image of it...what's not to love with the image of a woman with panties around her ankle...and hearing the splash of her piss inside the toilet bowl.

We have talked about that fantasy of mine, and tonight we tried it.

We had just gotten back from our neighborhood watering hole, and thought none of us were drunk, we were feeling good. And, because we had just been at the neighborhood watering hole, we both had to pee.

It was a good night to do it. We essentially had the house to ourselves, so L stepped inside the bathroom with me as we both got undressed and turned the shower on.

I got in and knelt down in front of L, already instantly hard. L stood over me, and when I told her to do so, she pissed on my erection while I watched. It was exceptionally erotic for me, such a taboo thing to do, and all being done under my control. I loved the feel of it; the warmth and the view.

She finished, and I stood up, rock hard. L thought she would simply wash up a bit and then meet me in the bedroom, but I quickly ordered her to her knees.

"My turn," I said.

And I pissed on her, and I had a lot to splash on her. And for the first time since we have done it, L moved her face directly into the stream and allowed it to coat her face and hair.

We finished, cleaned up, and got out of the shower. I was still dealing with a rock hard erection and L got on her knees in the bathroom and sucked me off for a little before we both went into the bedroom.

I had originally thought we would go straight into a session once we got in the bedroom, but the erection throbbing between my legs and straining for release had to be taken care of. L continued sucking on me before I had her get on her back and I slid inside her and fucked her hard. Extremely hard. She started to tell me she was coming, and I reminded her that she had to ask. She asked, I said yes, and then she came, and for the second time tonight, she soaked my cock, this time not with pee. It was one her most impressive gushes to date. I pulled out of her and stroked myself over her, using her juices as lubrication. L wiped herself out, and I slid back inside her again (she has this uncanny ability to wipe out and becomes exceptionally tight again) and starting fucking her, and before long, (less than a minute) I came too.

I was quite pleased to discover that something that I imagined I would enjoy turned out to be more enjoyable than I fantasized. Sometimes that happens. Sometimes people develop high expectations in their mind that a certain sexual act is going to be beyond their wildest dreams, and then when it actually happens, it turns out to be a disappointment.

That has never been the case with L and I. L has allowed me to enact many fantasies with her; many of a rather long list. With each one, it has always been very enjoyable. From threesomes to new toys, the pleasures imagined in fantasies have always turned out be the same in reality. We are fortunate that way, and I think it has all to do with the connection we have between us and the D/s dynamics.

Perhaps I am overthinking this. Perhaps this blog post was way longer than it needed to be. Perhaps. All I know for sure is that tonight I ordered my dear sweet submissive L to piss on me, and I am quite eager to do it again.

no panties

L was punished when I got home today, she fucked up on a couple of rules and I really didn't want to wait until bedtime to take care of it. We went into the bedroom as soon as I got home and I took my belt off, removed her panties, hiked up the back of her dress, and punished her. She took it well.

Afterwards, she wanted to put her panties back on as she was going to the grocery store to shop. "There's no need," I said. "Leave them off. You can walk around the store with no panties on under your dress."

(it's a lovely summer dress, by the way. Mid-length. No danger, really, of a draft lifting it up and shoppers getting a nice view of her freshly waxed cunt...unfortunately)

She obeyed. Prior to leaving the house, she came over to the stool I was sitting on and straddled my knee, and my hand went under her dress and touched her wetness. I put a finger inside of her, pulled it out, and licked her wetness of of it.

Then slapped her ass and sent her on her way to the store.

"Don't drip along any of the aisles," I advised, as she headed out. "That would be embarrassing."

She is out shopping while I write this, pushing her cart down the aisles, in her lovely summer dress, where, underneath, her cunt is there and in the open. I wonder how she feels. I wonder if her cunt feels the temperature difference going down the cooler aisle.

I just texted her. I told her that when she gets in the car to hike her dress up she is fully exposed and to drive home in that manner. If at truck were to pull up beside her and if someone were to look down, they might see her. I like that.

I like controlling her in that way.

Even better?

I like how incredibly wet that control makes her.

So what's going on?

I suspect many of you are wondering what I have put into place after my last posting, and the truth be told, I have not posted anything because I have not quite figured it out, though I am getting close. The last couple of weeks have been busy and we have had to take a break from our normal routine somewhat with family here from out of town and an extended 4th of July weekend. The children are on summer schedule, and it is not uncommon for the four year old to pound on our door after midnight stating that he is hungry or wants his show on.

I started my new job on Monday, so I am no longer the stay at home Dom that I was the last month. It's a good job, far less stressful then the last job, so I am feeling good about that. Getting up and putting a tie on in the morning and heading out the door before L goes to her job makes me feel good. Makes me feel...more Dommy (is that a word?). It has nothing to do with me making money again, as has been previously discussed, it just gives me a sense of purpose that helps with our overall relationship. I made a good stay at home Dom; got up every morning at the same time as L, stayed active, etc. I had a sense of purpose, for sure. But having the job to go to makes a difference. Hard to explain.

Anyway, I am slowly but surely starting to implement some new changes, not connected to the BDSM aspect of our relationship and those glorious things we do in the bedroom. I am trying to focus more on the day to day aspect and the fact that we have a 24/7 D/s relationship that does not always feel like 24/7. Last night I told L that she and I will both have reading time at night, where the TV is off and we lie in bed reading together. We both chose reading material that had to with D/s relationships.

I am working on implementing things that I feel with make L better in all areas of life; it is one of the reasons she gave herself to me, allowed herself to be collared, signed the contract that she did. It is not all about the sex. It is about her giving up all control to me, trusting in make to make decisions that will improve her life.

That is the focus right now.

Still.

There is the sex.

I don't blindfold L that often, but I did last night, and we had a minor session, but the out of the blue decision to blindfold her that almost dropped her instantaneously into sub space. Some caning followed, but we quickly moved on to the sucking and fucking, and the fucking was AMAZING. I held off for as long as I could, wanting her to orgasm first. Wanting her to beg for it. And she did, she asked permission, and I granted it to her, and at the same time hers shook through her entire body, mine hit as well, and we collapsed into each other.

So there is that.

But there is so much more.