What's not to love...

...when you are a fortunate enough Dom to lie in bed and have this lovely sub to admire?

Extra fortunate when you take into consideration the heat and wetness radiating from that special place that L is touching with her hands.

I can do anything....

It is a chilly Sunday morning where we live, and I am up before everyone else, drinking coffee and doing some chores before the day begins with all of the family activities that make up our busy weekends.

L is sound asleep in bed, still wearing the black negligee she wore to bed last night for our session. If I were to choose, her slumbering could come to an immediate end. I could go in the bedroom, lock the door behind me, and get in bed next to her. I could awaken her by presenting her with my cock, most likely still smelling of sex from our combined juices the night before, and have her start sucking on it even before she was fully awake. I could have her suck on it to complete hardness, my hand guiding the back of my head, my sounds showing my approval. Once completely hard and throbbing, I could withdraw from her mouth, spread her legs apart, and slide inside of her; not gently, not intimately, not nicely, but forcefully, filling her cunt with my presence, fucking her hard and urgently with regard for nothing but my own orgasm and desire to fill her with my cum much as I had done hours ago, and with last night's ejaculation still dry on her thighs after it leaked out of her. I could do that, and then withdraw, give her a tender kiss on the forehead and tell her what a good pet she was, and then go back to my morning tasks.

I could do those things. And anything else I wanted. At anytime.

But that doesn't always mean that I should do those things.

I believe the true definition of power is how you choose not to use it as opposed to how you use it. When L signed our D/s contract more than three years ago, she did so knowing that she could completely trust me with the control she was giving to me, and I believe I have done a good job of meeting those expectations. We have taken it to extreme levels at times, as readers of this blog know...rape scenes, threesomes, public play...but in all of these instances I have been mindful of her needs and the affect anything we did would have on her.

In my closet there is a box full of toys that have been used on L at various times over the years, some more than others, some hardly at all. The anal hook she gave me as a gift a couple of years ago has only been used once; for that matter, anal play is something we rarely do which is why last night after a thorough session of caning her, I reintroduced her to the rather large butt plug that hadn't made an appearance in quite some time. The intention was to use it to prepare her ass for my own cock, which made L very nervous and wasn't something she necessarily wanted to do, but...did I mention I can do anything that I want? I got her ass nice and prepared with the red butt plug, watching as I inserted it deep into her tight ass while my fingers worked magic on her dripping cunt and swollen clit, and when I was done playing with her and deciding my options on which hole I would use to satisfy myself, opted for the cunt. Because it is a delicious cunt, and each time I fuck it it feels like the first time.

So that is what I did.

But I could have fucked her up the ass.

One of the things I enjoy about this relationship is challenging myself, inserting control over my own desires as opposed to hers. I try to hold off on m own orgasm when fucking L for as long as I can. When we start a session I often times want to just leave the cane in the closet, or whatever other device I am using that night, and simply just fuck her.

There are many other things I want to do with L that we have not done yet; she is aware of my desires and fantasies. I like to draw those things out, present them when the moment is like, plan things carefully, and not rush through things like a bull in a China shop. With that comes the thrill of anticipation, and greater fulfillment for the two of us.

Now, if you'll excuse me, the day is about to begin here and I need to go back to the bedroom. I have a fucktoy in there and a certain part of me is in need of some attention from her.

Hello...

To quote Adele, hello.

It certainly has been a great deal of time since I last posted to this blog, more than two months.  I would like to say, as a followup to my last posting, that my time has been preoccupied with implementing a strict daily work out routine and since my last posting, have returned to a top shape, physically healthy body.

I would like to say that...but I can't.

No, my lack of posting has had more to do with the last month and a half preoccupied with an intense travel schedule for my job that has had me away from home more than I have been around it. Which is a difficult endeavor for any relationship to navigate, and I think that is especially true when D/s dynamics are involved. One moment I am around as the HOH, the one in charge, and then I am gone, and without me around, L has to become the one in charge, not to mention feeling somewhat lost (despite the fact that she is a very strong and independent woman) without my guidance.

We try to set up rules and guidelines while I am gone, little routine matters, but even that becomes difficult when the separation is thousands of miles and in completely opposite time zones. During one of my trips L came out and stated flatly that she could not do the D/s dynamics while I was gone, that she did not like the idea of being controlled from afar. For me, having that dynamic exist no matter the distance was something I held on to while on those trips, her gestures of submission from afar helped me get through the day.

I came back from that trip, we worked through some things, but less than a week later I was off again for another trip. This one was different as part way through L was able to join me in Beijing and we had a much needed 10 day vacation.

We reconnected quite well during that vacation, had an amazing time together, though, interestingly enough, the D/s dynamics were not front and center. It is odd that when we are on vacation and we have these marvelous hotel rooms with no kids around that our sessions would become longer and more intensive...neighbors be damned!...but that is rarely the case. The dynamics are there, but behind the scenes, playing a small but important role in how we go about our day to day lives as opposed to what happens in the bedroom. As we reflected on on this last trip, we did not bicker once, and even after sitting next to each other on an airplane for close to 15 hours, the first thing we wanted to do when we got home was to still be together.

The D/s dynamics might not have been there so much in the bedroom while on vacation, but they certainly resurfaced once we got home, and almost immediately. Saturday night we had a session that lasted more than two hours, starting off with L joining me in the shower for a long overdue act of me marking my territory as she kneeled before me and I coated her with my piss. That act right there, I think, turned a switch on for the two of us that led up to the two hour session that followed, with even after that, had L begging for more. Wanting it all. Needing it all. Arching her neck up to me, wanting the feeling of my hand wrapped around it, squeezing her, taking away her right to breathe while my other hand explored the wetness that was so prevalent this weekend. We discovered that the handle end of my whip, complete with little spikes, made a far more effective spanking tool than the whip end did. Yesterday afternoon, while lying in bed together, L joked that she was going to develop wrinkles around her mouth for sucking on me so much this weekend, only seconds before her head disappeared under the covers and I was back in her mouth for the umpteenth time.

We discovered a couple of things, I think, this weekend, but mostly we rediscovered each other and why TTWD is so important to us.

So why doesn't TTWD get ramped up in the privacy of hotel rooms, away from the kids, away from life? I think it is because we are in need of that structure at home more than on vacation; TTWD guides us through our day to day life and all of those tedious items, work, bills, kids...etc.  It's our structure during a time when structure is needed for both of us. Away from home, away from "all of this", it isn't so much. As I said, it is there...but on a different level.

But there nonetheless, and, as always, an important part of who we are.

I sing the body Dominant

Once upon a time the Dominant who writes this blog had the body you see above.

It wasn't even that long ago, really. This picture was taken a little over three years ago. L had gone on a camping trip with her friends, and, in what might be a tad bit narcissistic, I snapped this picture and emailed it to her to let her know what she was missing back home. 

This was not the body I had for most of my life. Most of my life I was pretty scrawny, thanks to a high metabolism and being a marathon runner. About six months before this picture was taken, I started hitting the gym on a regular basis, trading in the treadmill for the weights. The results were surprisingly quick, and I found great personal reward in sticking to a strict schedule, pushing myself, and being pleased with the results.

And L, of course, didn't mind it at all.

Flash ahead to this photo, taken just a few minutes ago by L:

I have put on close to 50 pounds in three years, ballooning up to a weight that I thought would never be possible on me. For most of my adult life, my waist size matched my inseam (32/32) and over the course of the last three years I watched that change, and pants that once fit me comfortably left the confines of my closet and made their way to the local thrift store. 32 went to 34, 34 to 36, and 36 to 38, where it has stayed for the last year.

And the belly...good lord, the belly. It was never something I possessed before, but these days it is evident, serving as a punching bag for my youngest boys and a punch line for my oldest.

Suffice to say, going to the gym is something I no longer do, and the running shoes I own rarely make an appearance. I also was not fully living with L back then, and would actually sometimes forget to eat. Nowadays,  I reside with a woman who can cook as well as she can fuck (and she fucks damn good) and I wolf down whatever she places on my plate in the dining room just as eagerly as I wolf down what she presents to me in our bedroom. 

I don't take a lot of pride in the direction my body has gone. I don't like the feeling of putting on a pair of pants that I can no longer squeeze into, of getting easily tired from strenuous activity, and of stepping on the scale and seeing new numbers emerge. Most importantly, I don't like how my weight gain resulted as a lack of self-discipline, and as a Dominant, aren't we supposed to be all about self-discipline? When L signed our original contract, one of the stipulations was that I would dictate her diet and give guidance on exercise; that has been left to the wayside since I do not believe in the motto "Do as I say, not as I do." 

A Dominant does not have to be the perfect physical specimen. True Dominance comes from mental strength, not physical appearance. And L professes to have no qualms about my body whatsoever; that she still finds all of me quite desirable (and it has by no means had any impact on our sex life).

Still..still. It is something I want to improve upon, more so after seeing the above picture L took of me. So, moving ahead, after tonight, I am going to do just that. This blog post was more or less nothing more than a step towards motivation, and that seeing the before and after picture above would be kick in the ass to get me going.

We shall see. It's all up to me, right? Meanwhile....my squirmy little pet who took the picture of me naked apparently liked what she saw enough that she is quite eager for her session, so I will go tend to that. 

And the good news? I will burn some calories in the process.

Sinful Sunday: Slowly sucking on Sir

There are times, not very often, when L's sexual urges trump mine. For the most part, we are evenly matched, desire for desire, day after day.

The other evening we were lying in bed together, side by side, naked, and L was squirming next to me, wanting certain things...needing certain things. I was tired, and at the moment, was content to lay there, our warm bodies pressed up against each other.

She looked at me with her puppy dog eyes.

"May I suck on you Sir?" she asked.

Certainly, I replied, and she eased herself down my body, coming face to face with my cock.

She wrapped her lips around the head...just the head...and suckled on it slowly, almost nursing it, gently, her hand resting under my balls.

I moaned. I ran my hand through the back of her hair, caressing her, as I began to grow in her mouth, getting harder as the suckling continued. I turned over on my side, and the hand that was once caressing her hair grabbed it roughly, and I thrust my hips forward in order for her to engulf my entire cock as I started fucking her mouth...much to her delight.

And mine as well.

Sometimes my L has the most wonderful of ideas.

threesome, revisited

Last Friday night, within the comfort and secrecy of our hotel room, L and I embarked on what I believe was either our seventh or eighth threesome. It has been enough over the last year and a half that I have lost count somewhat, though I know for certain this was the third one with this particular gentleman.

Not having the other male be an unknown entity helps, somewhat, with the nervousness of the situation, in particular for L. She confessed the day before everything was to go down that she did not feel at all nervous this time, and, as always, would do whatever pleased me.

We ended up with a room with a spa suite, and little did we realize at the time we checked in how prominent of a role the hot tub would play in the evening's events. As was the case with the previous threesomes, I had a vision in my head of how things were going to go down and what exactly would happen. I approached it like a director would with a carefully crafted script, down to the blocking, but the thing is with threesomes, when everything starts going, it turns into improvisational theater.

The evening started off with a dinner out between L and I, both of us dressed quite well and feeling quite good about ourselves. It was a celebratory evening of sorts, as L had just been offered a job that day, after a year of not working. The evening air was crisp, the sky was blue, and the trees had already turned golden. All was right with the world as we dined and enjoyed each other's company, and our conversation was void of anything that would be happening later.

After dinner, back at the hotel, and a bottle of champagne popped open. We decided to try out the hot tub as we still had over an hour before he was scheduled to appear. One thing led to another, and though we were planning on nothing sexual until he arrived, sexual things did happen. L was on top of me at one point, riding me in the water, and then this led to me sitting on the edge of the tub while she sucked on me.

"You should just come now," she said, looking up at me, her hand massaging my balls. "That way you won't be pressured to hold off later."

Then she was back on my cock with her mouth, and I decided that was some damn good advice, and allowed myself to come. Quite the cock reader, she sensed my orgasm and withdrew her mouth at the last second, and I erupted on her hand and into the hot tub.

After the hot tub we got out and dried off, and L put on a sexy purple negligee set. The champagne had settled in, and she was feeling even more at ease. We spent the remaining time before he arrived engaging in a light BDSM session, with L kneeled before me most of the time, professing her love to me and how much she wanted to please me.

10:45 p.m. and a knock on the door. L sat in a chair in the middle of the room, blindfolded, while I let him in. Little was said between the two of us as I led him into the room, where L sat quietly ready to serve the two of us. We stood on either side of her, both undressed, and began mauling at her, pulling and smacking at her tits and fingering her cunt. She was already a dripping mess at that point, and with two erect cocks inches from her face, it was time to move on.

First him, then me. We guided her head between the two of us..."passed me around like a joint at a party" L joked the next day...taking advantage of her mouth and all that it had to offer. From there I led her over the bed and had her bend over. Our friend entered her from behind while I moved up to her mouth. We switched back and forth a couple of times, and on the next go around with him fucking her, L urged him to come.

"Go ahead," I said. "But fuck her hard. That's how she likes it."

And so he did, albeit briefly, before he came, pounding L from behind while she was sucking on my cock. After he withdrew from her and went to sit down to catch his breath and regroup, L excused herself to go and use the bathroom, leaving us in somewhat awkward silence while "Pulp Fiction" played on the television. What does one say in that situation? Two naked men, sitting there, while the focus of our attention was in the other room.

L came back out after a few minutes and we went back to work on her again, but the break in action had also led to a break in our erections, despite her best efforts.

"I think we should all take a break and take a hot tub," L suggested, apparently comfortable in having some say in the evenings actions as opposed to being reduced to nothing more than a fucktoy.

And the thing is, it was a good idea. I ran the water again in the hot tub. By this point L had removed her blindfold so she could see our gentleman for the first time. With the tub full and the jets on, L climbed in first and I got in next to her, and then he joined us. It was a tight fit. L positioned her feet into each of our laps. I don't recall us talking too much; at first we just sat there and enjoyed the relaxation.

L was then on my lap and she leaned in and gave me a deep kiss. "I love you," she said.

"I love you too," I replied, kissing her back, and making out with her while our friend watched.

"You don't want me to kiss him, right?" she asked me.

"It's fine," I said. "I don't mind."

L then got off my lap and crawled over to his lap, and then, facing him, draped her arms around his back and leaned in and kissed him in the same manner she had just kissed me. Afterwards the got back on my lap to kiss me, this time kissing at my neck and earlobe, and then did the same for him.

We have talked about that moment a few times since then. It is one thing to allow another man to fuck the woman that you love, and to watch her suck his cock, and so forth...but quite another to watch something this intimate. Later that evening L expressed her concern that I would be angry with her, that she knew there was no way she could watch me do the same with another woman, and the truth of the matter....well, the truth of the matter is that since Friday night, as I have replayed the evening in my head, that particular moment, watching my beloved L make out with another man, has always aroused me more than anything else that took place that night.

It certainly aroused me at the moment, as I was fully erect again, and I sat up on the edge of the tub to give L access to me. She sat back on my lap, facing him, and I eased my cock inside of her and she started rocking back and forth on me. Our friend lifted himself out of the water slightly so she could suck on him. It was a scene straight out of erotica, a threesome in the hot tub, and within a small amount of time, with L's cunt squeezing at me, I came for the second time that night.

After that we got out of the hot tub and dried off. "I am done for now," I told L. "But you need to take care of our friend still."

I watched as he fucked her from behind, holding L's head. L's moans and pantings got more and more louder, and soon she was asking permission to come, and I allowed her. He kept fucking away, and as her first orgasm subsided, a second one was right behind and she came again.

Our friend confessed to being done for the evening, and after getting dressed and some awkward small talk about what the rest of the weekend had in store, he departed. I got in bed with L who had curled up in the fetal position and held her and told her how much I loved her. It was at that point that she was worried about me being mad at her, and she started talking about how she would never ever do anything to upset me or mess things up with us.

"It's ok baby," I said. "Everything was ok. This was all my idea, remember?"

We ended up having sex two more times that night, and again the second we woke up in the morning before checking out. We did not leave the hotel with any type of awkwardness between the two of us; what we have discovered is that we tend to feel closer after these threesome sessions, this one perhaps even more so.

It was our seventh or eighth threesome. it won't be our last. Eventually, we will work an MFF threesome into the mix, and lately we have been talking to a couple of other couples about getting together for an evening of watching and being watched. We talk about those things, at night, with the bedroom door locked, discuss fantasies, offer explicit descriptions of sexual acts, and then we fuck ourselves silly.

This venture into the taboo, this exploration of what for so many is an unfulfilled fantasy, draws us in as a couple, especially in regards to our D/s dynamics. That we emerge from these sessions closer is, I believe, a testament to the strength we have as a couple.

Sinful Sunday: Waiting for Sir

Baby steps

Anyone who has read this blog from the beginning know that the two areas L expresses hesitation at in performing sexually are swallowing and anal. We have had discussions about it over the years, I have expressed my desire in both of those acts. It is not like they have been absent; they make their appearances from time to time, anal more so than swallowing, and usually during that time of the month.

It has taken will power on my part, particularly with not forcing her into swallowing during oral sex. She is very, very talented in that arena...knows that part of my body well, knows the right way to please me, that perfect combination of sucking and stroking. She gets that rhythm going, gets me into a state of what can best be defined as exceptional hardness, where it is just so damn tempting to grab the back of her head, push myself into her throat as far as I can, and release.

But I don't; instead, withdrawing from the comfort of her mouth at the very last second possible, and throwing her back onto the bed and slamming into her cunt, once again, relying on my will power (or is that power of my will?) to hold off from not erupting right away. When I do, it is explosive. L has nicknamed me "buckets" before because of the amount of ejaculate that I produce, and when I roll off of her and she tends to the mess running down her thigh, she thanks me for not making her mouth the recipient.

It was that time of the month earlier this week; Aunt Flo bid farewell yesterday, just in time for the threesome we are planning tonight (that will be another posting). Three nights ago..or was it four? it can be such a blur sometimes...I had L spread eagled, face down into the bed, with our new under the bed restraint system holding her in place. It had been some time since I had restrained her; the system was recently purchased via Amazon for an amazingly low price, and that was evident in the quality of the material to the point that I really questioned if it was going to work when I unpacked it and set it up. Lo and behold, it worked quite nicely, completely immobilizing her. As I stood back admiring my pet, I immediately asked myself why I don't do this more often, having forgotten (apparently) how aroused I get to see her in such a helpless state. I didn't ponder the situation for too long and was on top of her instantaneously, already hard and throbbing and pressing against her, as I started nipping at parts of her body with my teeth, whispering in her ear, telling her what a slut she was and how tonight she had no choice, she was going to get fucked in the ass.

"Yes Sir," she whimpered. "I have no choice. You can do whatever you want to me."

More biting, more strikes with my hands, more reaching underneath her and pulling, twisting at her tits. In my memo to her the next day, I told her that I had entered "Dom space" and the adrenaline that surged through my body...and the things that I wanted to do to her...were beyond intense.

Then I was in front of her face, and I twisted her head around so she could suck on me. I held her head down firmly as I fucked her mouth. I told her that her mouth was nothing more than a cunt to me.

I told her her ass was next.

And it was next, after a proper amount of lube had been applied to her ass and then coated my cock. I knelt behind her ass, stroking myself as I applied the lube. I did it with some force so she could hear the sound of it. I told her how much I loved her ass, how I knew it was going to be so tight around me.

She whimpered again. "You can do whatever you want Sir."

And I did. Slowly at first, mindful of her discomfort, again, so much will power on my part when I wanted to slam into her forcefully. I allowed her to ease her ass back into me, and once full penetration has been achieved, I slid in and out of her.

"What a nice ass to fuck," I told her.

"Please Sir, don't take long...." she whimpered in reply.

That was not a problem.

Ass fucking, check. Then the other day I stopped by to visit L during a break from a 16 hour work day, in the bedroom with her relaxing for half an hour. When the time was up, I got off the bed and was prepared to leave when all of a sudden L lay back on the bed, her head hanging slightly over the side, her mouth slightly open...in "that" position prepared for "that" act.

Work could wait just a bit more.

I unsnapped my pants and took my cock out as I stood over her, and inserted herself into her mouth as she instantly went to work, bringing me to full erection.

30 second in, she removes her mouth and looks up at me.

"Go ahead," she said. "I will do it."

I held off for as long as I could, but that wasn't long at all, and when I came, it was evident on her facial expression which was not necessarily one of displeasure, but, rather, one of someone who was determined to please her Sir despite however she felt about the act. I came in her mouth, holding her head in place, and though she did her best to swallow it, ended up with spitting some of it out into a kleenex.

I withdrew from her mouth and tucked my cock back into my pants, and used my finger to remove a slight trace of myself from the side of her mouth.

"Good, good girl," I said. "So proud of you."

Text exchange between S and L the next day, after L asked me if I could bring her breakfast while I was out running work errands:

S: I suppose taking my cum in your mouth does make you eligible for a treat.

L: Yes, I believe so.

S: Some might consider that in itself to be a treat.

L: Baby steps.

Hmm, yes.

Baby steps, indeed.

We are still here

As I wrote the in last posting, it occurred to me that I have not contributed to his blog anywhere close to the amount that I used to. These days a month goes by before I make an appearance with my words.

Silence does not signify lack of activity in the world of S and L; as one point, in the beginning, silence was reflection of the turmoil that once plagued our relationship. Plagues exist no longer, our life is one of peace and happiness and it is good, indeed.

My words come out in my daily memos to L, of which I never falter from. Every workday she is treated to a memo from me, sometimes short, other times lengthy. I do not falter from this, never have in the more than three years we have been D/s. They are daily during the work week, and everyday when I travel. I do not falter, and I expect her to read them and reply. Not replying is a major infraction. I have no patience for my memos being ignored, especially since L is emphatic about clinging to my words, about cherishing them. I do not forget to send her my memos; I am damn clear in my expectations that she NEVER forget to reply to them.

We are still here, doing what we do. Not as often as we used to. Sometimes there are nights, where, not only do we not have a session, we also don't have sex. Those nights are rare.

The sessions are not as needed as much as they once were, when our relationship was hungry for structure, was clinging to the D/s dynamic like two people grabbing on to a lifeboat in a tumultuous sea.

But still...

But still...

We cannot go too long. Two, three nights at most. More than that, we get out of whack. L acts up. I get antsy. Things are off balance. Two, three nights at most. I then bring things back around, in the only way I know how.

The last two nights have been extraordinary, with my Dominance in overdrive and her submissiveness in full force. So many delightful things have taken place. The other night, her with her hands bound behind her in bondage tape, clad in a skimpy negligee, on her knees in front of the full length mirror as I gagged her with my cock. Last night, as she held her breasts together as I slapped at them harder! and harder! with my hands, wanting to bruise them, wanting to hurt her, as I told her what a cock sucking whore she was as she whimpered in agreement, her juices dripping down her thigh in anticipation of the fucking that was yet to come.

We have ebbs and flows, ups and downs, like any couple, but during the downs, we fret not because we know how to bring back the ups. We are not the same S and L that embarked on this journey in May 2012; we are so much more confident in who we are, what we do, and where we are going...and relieved that that forward journey no longer requires the seat belt that it once did.

It starts with us

I recently started reading a great book called “The Modern Alpha Male” that gives great advice on how to be confident, assertive man in the 21st century, without the stereotypical mannerisms that occupy being an alpha male. None of it really pertains to what takes place within the realms of a D/s relationship, but it is highly applicable. It gives solid advice on how to be confident in all aspects of life, from relationships to work to inner-reflection.

That’s where it all starts, isn’t it? Being in control of ourselves, being confident about who we are and our place in life. Caring not about what others think, being in control of our emotions and actions. This realization has been an awakening for me as of late. I used to wring my hands over why my sub wasn’t more submissive, why she was not behaving in the way that I wanted her to, but ultimately, it is not her fault, it is mine. I control the situation, and the level of her submissiveness is directly connected to the level of my Dominance and self-confidence.

It all starts with us, we, the Doms --- how we care for ourselves, how we interact in all regards to life. That might seem unfair, but perhaps if you feel that way, you should not sign up to be on the D end of a D/s relationship. The burden is great, but the rewards are even greater. It involves self-control in all aspects of life, work and pleasure, body and diet, etc. With that self-discipline we can demand the same of our significant other. It tires me to think of it, in all honesty, but when she presents herself to me at night, naked and collared, eager to please and serve, that extra effort is more than well worth it.

The rawness of it all

Two or three years ago L was in denial over female ejaculation, passing it off as urination, in part, because it was something she had never experienced.

Funny how things change.

Squirting happens more often than not these days, with varying degrees of intensity. More often than not I am not fully aware of it immediately; it happens during a hard fucking and only until I withdraw and look down and see the soaked sheets am I aware. It is not all L, of course, I am rather copious when I cum so the aftermath between the two of us is rather messy.

Which I love, because the messier things are, the more I love it. I am quite in love with the rawness of it all, of all things sexual between L and I, the tastes and the smells, the sounds and the feelings.

It causes me no greater pleasure than to put L through a physical session and have marks and bruises appear on her ass. Last week I used her collar as a spanking implement and the buckle on it broke skin her ass, producing a small trickle of blood, which I happily licked up.

L will often times apologize for her wetness. She does get wet. Very very wet. Before I penetrate it her she will reach down and wipe out with her panties, removing as much of her wetness as she can and making things tighter. That is fine, I like her tightness, but I like her wetness even more and even more so when my head is in between her thighs and I am experiencing it on my tongue and mouth and fingers.

Because I enjoy those things. The rawness of it all.

It is why I like other things as well, the highly taboo things. Treating L to a golden shower, having her rim me, having sex on her period. Rawness mixed with passion and fire and hunger, fueled by cravings.

I like raw words. Cock and cum, fucking and sucking.

I care not if these cravings are normal; I have long since cared about what my desires mean about the nature of my soul. I am quite comfortable with myself and who I am and what I love, and what I love more than anything is to crawl into bed each and ever night with a companion who is just as raw as I am.

Review of "Grey"

L surprised me with a copy of "Grey" a couple of weeks ago, after I half-jokingly suggested I was interested in reading it. I only made it through the first of the "50 Shades" series with mild interest and a part of the second one with even less. As far as "Grey"...well, there just aren't that many books written from a Dom's perspective, so that aspect intrigued me.

It didn't take me long to read it...about four nights with it by bedside. I plowed through it not because of love of the characters or being spellbound by the exceptional writing of E.L. James; it was moreso, after horror after horror unveiled itself through a grotesque assassination of the English language, because of morbid fascination.

It was really, really bad.

Let's start with Christian Grey and his cock, shall we? I start there because his cock is to him what Anastasia's inner-goddess was to her. Case in point some of the following passages:

• "Lifting my hips, I grab my cock. “I want you to become well acquainted, on first-name terms, if you will, with my favorite and most cherished part of my body. I’m very attached to this.”

• I have never slept with a woman. I’ve fucked many, but to wake up beside an alluring young woman is a new and stimulating experience. My cock agrees.

• Her face is no longer blotchy and puffy, she looks radiant. My cock agrees, and stiffens in greeting.

His cock is always present, popping up every fifth page or so, and usually twitching. Should they make a movie of "Grey", they will have to cast an actor to play the part of "Twitchy Cock."

Ludicrous passages are not just limited to Christian Grey's cock, however. James manages to stun through the book.

• I strip off all my clothes and from a drawer pull out my favorite jeans. My DJs. Dom jeans.

• I ask, “Are you hungry?” “Not for food,” she teases. Whoa. She might as well be addressing my groin.  

• People like me like inflicting pain ... I am used to making women cry – it’s what I do.

There are moments of potential in the book, though, that are never fully capitalized on. Grey's relationship with his "teacher", Elena, is briefly touched upon and I actual think it might have been interesting to have more flashbacks (preferably well-written) to his history with her.

And, despite the rampant silliness, I managed to get out of it (believe it or not) some reminders of why I like the things I like with L. Those four or five nights I read the book were all followed by sessions with L, and perhaps (if you ask her) a little rougher than they normally are. 

And perhaps...just perhaps...the book made my cock twitch a couple of times.

Even though it was confined inside of my Dom jeans.

"Z" is for "Zipping..."

From May 28:

Pet:

And so it comes to an end.

26 letters. 26 words. 26 memos.

"Z" is the hardest by far.

"Zen" was a possibility, but you thought of it as well, and I would prefer to challenge myself and come up with words that you are not expecting.

I actually thought of "Zero", as in "Zero" is the number of days I can handle being apart from you, it is the number of minutes during the day when you do not cross my mind, it is how much tolerance I have with you acting out or not doing as told...

Yes, that was a possibility.

But I am going with zipping...

As in...zipping up your dress.

That might sound silly, so let me explain.

I enjoy that simple act of zipping up your dress for you, somewhat erotic (I can find erotic in the simplest of things, actually) as I pull the zipper up, your bare backside revealed to me..your bra strap...bringing the zipper all the way up, perhaps running my fingers along your spine...the back of your neck. 

It is tied into the fact that you are wearing a dress, and looking nice to please me, and good lord, do you ever look nice in your dresses...those amazing legs revealed, cleavage accentuated, and dresses allow for easy access to the parts below....

It's just nice.

But not as nice as the reverse.

Zipping up is one thing. 

Zipping down is another.

Pulling the zipper down, backside and bra strap revealed again...zipper all the way down, you stepping out of your dress...more of you exposed, milky white skin that I want to taste every part of..then...no dress. You close to naked, looking ever so fuckable..unzipped dress on the floor, you on the bed, legs slightly spread..me standing before you.

Your hand finding my own zipper. Pulling it down. Unsnapping the pants. Taking my cock out of my pants, your mouth finding it...sucking on it, as you look up at me with my hand firmly grasping the back of your head...

From there...

Many other things happen.

So many things happen.

But it all begins zipping...

I love you very much.

--Sir

"Y" is for "You"

From May 27:

Pet:

Who do I love more than I have ever loved anyone?

Who do I need like oxygen?

Who is my everything?

Who thrills me, excites me, makes me laugh, makes my heart beat?

Who makes me want to crawl in bed with her and never climb out?

Who arouses me, turns me on, stirs up cravings I did not know I had?

The answer to that is really quite simple.

You.

Always and forever.

--Sir

"X" is for "X-rated"

From May 26:

Pet:

Were there to be a movie about our life, the producers would have no choice but to give it an X rating.

We live a somewhat pornographic life, going back to our first sexual encounter in the hotel room where we undressed and I got in bed with you, and you reached down and discovered me, and said those words I will always remember: "You're a big boy, aren't you?" And I slide inside of you, penetrated that magic pussy of yours, and we fucked for the very first time.

Weeks after that...not sure when it was...we made love for the first time.

But there has been a lot of fucking.

Fucking at my place; on the couch and in the bed. Fucking in many, many hotel rooms, both here and afar. Fucking in my car in the parking lot of Wendy's, in a hot springs in Albuquerque, in front of others in New Orleans, in threesomes a total of six times, where I have shared you and watched you take another man's cock in your mouth and cunt.

Fucking in our room, in our bed. Quickies, long sessions...morning, afternoon, and night. Fucking completely naked, fucking where just my pants are pulled down just enough to have my cock fully out, your panties moved off to the side to allow for the penetration I need. 

Our sex life is not that of a PG or R movie, it is X-rated, raw and hardcore, often times extreme and often times taboo.

I would not want it any other way.

I could not have it any other way.

A censored life in the bedroom is not the life for me; a life where we do not do certain things because they fit outside of social norms is not the life for me. It is not the life for us. You are my X-rated lover/fiancee/pet/future wife, and I would not want you any other way. I want you sprawled on the bed, naked and wet, hand between your legs, fingers rubbing your clit, your mouth hanging over the side of the bed, wide open, tongue slightly out, ready for my cock to fuck your face. I want you unabashedly whorish in bed, fuck hungry and insatiable.

I want to live out the X-rated images and ideas that flood my mind with you, kinks and twistedness and lewdness combined. You simply have no idea how you do it for me, how you are all that I want.

And despite what I said the other night...I don't think that will be the last time I share you. Speaking of X-rated. I actually think those sessions are good for us sexually...we did fuck four times yesterday. I feel closer to you after they happen, and I must say...you do look quite lovely with a cock in each one of your hands.

I love you very much...my own personal X-rated whore who I know is oh so wet after reading this...my lovely slut that thrills me and exhilarates me in ways that I never thought was possible. 

--Your Devoted Sir

"W" is for "Words"

From May 21:

Pet:

Of course that would be the word.

Our relationship began with words and it continues to thrive today with my words.

Of all of the ways I control you, my words remain my most effective tool. You know that. Imagine a day with no memos, none of my words...two days? three days? I know that just the thought of that alone makes you sad and would be a horrible yet effective punishment.

I have no idea how many written words have been exchanged between the two of us, if we were to take every single email and text over the years and dump them all in to a Word document and do a word count, what would the total be? If all of our words were combined into a book, how big would that book be?

It's not all about MY words though. Your words are quite effective as well. I still get a thrill out of seeing an email reply from you, a text notification, etc.

I can do so many things to you with my words. I can construct sentences with just the right words, just the right meaning, just the right way, and they will make you drip. Literally. My words can make you touch yourself, make you crave my cock, make you lust for my Domination. 

My words can bring you to your knees to service me, but they can also bring you to your knees to beg for forgiveness.

My words to you speak volumes.

No words to you at all speak an even louder volume.

Fortunately for you, you never have to worry about it.

As long as you are a good girl, of course.

I love you very much.

--Sir

"V" is for "Very...."

Pet:

As in

I am proud to own you.

Very much.

I thoroughly enjoy fucking you.

Very much.

Very hard.

Very often.

I enjoy flogging you..spanking you...inflicting pain on you.

Very much.

Very often.

You are all I have ever wanted and then some.

Very true.

And I absolutely love you.

Very.

Very.

Very much.

--Sir

"U" is for "Uncertainties"

From May 19:

Pet:

This might seem an odd choice of words, as all of the words in this list have centered around things that exist in our relationship.

This word, however, is one that simply does not.

There are no uncertainties, no doubts, no question if we are doing the right thing...no such words exist in the definition of our relationship.

Our relationship is as solid as they come. Our commitment to each other is beyond strong. The world of S and L as it is now, and all aspects of it, from family to TTWD, is, without question, steeped in absolute certainty.

I love you with all my heart, now and forever.

--Sir

"T" is for "Three"

From May 18:

Pet:

We have embarked on many kinky adventures since this all began, and as you know...it has not always been just the two of us.

Sometimes there has been three of us.

I have been surprised by how much I have enjoyed many of the things we have discovered, this one is certainly at the top of the list. I am a rather possessive Master when it comes to my pet, you know how I have no tolerance for flirting or anything along those lines with other men...one of the reasons I am glad you are no longer at TCC, by the way.

Given that, why would I enjoy seeing you come rather intensely with another man's cock buried inside of you? To watch you ride another man in the same manner you ride me?

It has everything to do with the circumstances of course, all of it being under my control and my rules, that no matter how you are being fucked or how expertly you are taking another man in your mouth, it is all by my wish and command. There is also the pride I have in sharing you, in showing off the tightness that is your cunt, your amazing cock sucking skills..the way you move...the way you drip...

How could I not be proud?

It makes for a very intense session, no question there. For both of us. I know you enjoy it and that it turns you on, and I know you cannot bring yourself to readily admit to it. So much easier for you to remove your obvious pleasure and focus on pleasing me and being a good girl. That's fine. I will allow you to do that, and let the wetness that soaks our friend for the night tell the other side of the story.

There are many, many things that comprise TTWD...this being one of them.

And with an extra long weekend coming up, I do believe it is time to do it again.

I love you very much...and I love all of the things that we do.

--Sir

"S" is for "Submission"

From May 15, 2015


Pet:

Maybe a bit of a no-brainer on this one, though there are a lot of words I could have used here.

Sex.

Slut.

Swallow.

Spanking.

Sharing.

Shove your face in the pillow while I fuck you hard from behind.

Smile.

But, at the root of all of those things, is your submission to me, and quite honestly, it means everything to me. It is what I thrive on, to have you as my submissive, to have you serving me, to have you obey me, to have you surrender yourself to me, to have you desire to please me over everything else.

For giving me all of that...for taking that leap of faith in me, for having that confidence in me, for having the respect in me to do that...I truly thank you and promise to never let you down.

No one is perfect. Mistakes are made, of course.

But we learn from them and go on.

You are my submissive...my everything...and I love you very much.

--Sir

"R" is for "Release"

From May 14, 2015

Pet:

We find release from the trials and tribulations of day to day life in TTWD. There is the release you gain from an intense session, when any worries or thoughts or concerns dissipate with every strike of the rug beater/cane/flogger, until eventually you are a gone girl, drifting away into your oh so peaceful world of subspace where nothing matters and anything can be done.

I gain similar release from those actions, my stress disappearing as well, as I enter "Dom space", which, at times, can be fairly intense, especially when the urge hits me to hit you harder...you choke you more..to make you bruise, make you whimper, make you cry out in pain.

There is the release we gain from the sex and the release we gain from the earth-shattering orgasms that we manage to give each other. There is the release as i explode inside of you...on you...endless amounts of cum, at times. Your similar release, especially when I manage to make you gush.

But as I write this...I realize that the need for release in terms of intense sessions is not as strong as it used to be, and that is because our day to day life is void of stress and trials and tribulations for the most part.

That was not always the case, and TTWD is what kept us going and made things work. The release was vital.

It is still important, mind you. But in a somewhat different way. And it is not going anywhere; it is who we are and how we interact with each other.

It is us, plain and simple.

I love you very much.

--Sir 

"Q" is for "Quietness"

From May 13, 2015

Pet:

Our time together is not always marked by sounds...whether it be conversations, jokes..orders and demands...moans and whimpers, cries of pleasure and pain. 

Sometimes there is just...quietness.

And that is perfectly ok.

Our quietness is not the quietness of two people who do not want to be with each other and who absolutely have nothing to say with each other. Our quietness is the quietness of two people who would not want to be anywhere else, and the silence between us is a direct reflection of the peace in our souls and hearts.

And that, in itself, says more than any words could possibly say.

I love you very much.

---Sir