Tuesday, September 30, 2014
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.
Friday, September 19, 2014
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.
Saturday, September 13, 2014
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.
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
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!
Saturday, September 6, 2014
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.
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.