Tuesday, December 27, 2016

Balancing Act

Hard to believe it has been more than a month since the last posting to this blog. Especially when, once upon a time, when all of this was new, postings occurred on an almost daily basis. Not that my lack of postings is a rarity in the blogging world, when writers are at their most prolific in the beginning stages and tend to taper off after a certain amount of time. What started off as a flurry of keystrokes and wordsmithing goes to the way side when the next shiny object is seen in the peripheral vision.

There has been nothing shiny that has distracted me that has kept me from posting, rather, the issue has been not having much to post about.

When L and I got married more than six months, I predicted it would result in a shift in our relationship, which was true, I was just incorrect on the direction it would shift in.

What I thought would happen was that things would escalate, that having L as my wife and with my last name, would only intensify my feelings of owning her and Dominating her. Having a submissive girlfriend, and then fiancée, is one thing, but having a submissive wife? To me, in my mind, that would be the ultimate.

What happened was not that.

After we got married, over the course of the last six months, the D/s dynamics tapered off somewhat, to almost vanilla levels at times. Over the last month, for instance, I took away a couple of our rituals such as L having to kneel before me and asking for permission to sleep in my bed with me and the other making her wear her collar to bed (that one was more due to her developing a rash as a result of her collar, which I had placed on her on our wedding night). BDSM sessions in bed, once a nightly occurrence, went down to once a week. Sometimes even less. Other things didn’t change at all, such as her daily memos.

I’ve thought a lot about why things changed, because that is what I do. I overanalyze and overthink things. I think to some extent, and I’ve talked about this on the blog before, is that the D/s dynamics were very important when we weren’t married because it gave our relationship structure and definition outside of what a marriage would provide. Getting married provided an entirely new structure and definition, which in some ways, trumped what the D/s relationship was providing for us.

In the past, if we ever shifted away from our D/s dynamics, if I ever dropped the ball, L would act out, effectively pulling me right back in again to set matters straight. Usually in the bedroom Usually with her bent over the bed. Usually with pain.

L doesn’t act out anymore, though from time to time she will push my buttons just to see how I will react. On Christmas night, after one of our long over due brief but effective sessions, and after I had thoroughly fucked her, she lay back in bed wearing a perfect for the holidays red negligee (which just by wearing that woke up the beast in me) and said “It seems a shame to have a sex toy when you don’t use her properly.”

Button pushed. But also, a good point. Why own a sex toy if you don’t treat her as one?

That’s not to say we haven’t been having good sex. We have been having great sex. With me off work this last week, a lot of that good sex has been happening in the mornings. Not necessarily BDSM or kinky sex. Just a good hard fucking, the covers pulled up over us in case a child happens to make their way into the bedroom. A good hard satisfying fuck that leaves us both worn out afterwards and ready for a morning nap.

The fact that the D/s has not been there as of late doesn’t mean it has disappeared altogether. Those same thoughts and cravings I have are still there, and while they might not be there as much as they used to be, they are still there. But you go for awhile without acting upon them, it is difficult to veer back towards them in one fell swoop. For both parties involved.

L will admit, as she did the other night, that she is not as conditioned as she used to be when things were at their most intense. Sessions that would have barely resulted in a whimper before cause her pain now. Her breasts, once a subject of my physical attention on a regular basis, are sensitive to the slightest touch these days. Getting back into it would have to be a gradual…and consistent….process.

Those cravings are there.

For both of us.

I will look over at her lying in bed next to me at night, especially when she is wearing a special outfit for me, and I want nothing more than to nestle my head between her legs and leave hard an deliberate bite marks into her inner thighs before I plunge into her cunt with my tongue. I will look at the outline of her cleavage under whatever she is wearing and I want to yank it down, revealing her breasts to me, those breasts that she claims are so sensitive, and I want to twist them and punch them, and leave the same bite marks in them that I did with her inner thigh.

I want to wrap my hands around her neck and choke her, controlling her breath.

Punches to the ass. Flogging. Beating. Lashing. Those urges are still there, quite intense at times, but tend to be the wrong times..too late at night, kids awake, etc. Sometimes those urges can’t be acted upon, so we just simply fuck.

Did I mention that we fuck well, even with out all of “that”?

So that is what we are doing, and with a new year just a few days away, and me just the being the way that I am, I’ll be giving this a lot more thought. Come May 2017 and it will be our fifth anniversary as a D/s couple and, later in May, will be our one year anniversary as husband and wife. S and L…husband and wife, Dominant and submissive. There’s no reason it has to be one over the other, it’s finding that right balance between the two.

Thursday, November 3, 2016

How many is too many?

A few nights ago L and I were in bed watching the movie "Nymphomaniac Volume I" on Netflix when it got to the scene where Stacy Martin's character challengers her friend to a "fucking competition" of sorts to see who can fuck the most men on a train ride. The movie itself, by the way, is one of the more explicit ones you will find on Netflix and that particular scene contains one of the best oral sex scenes of any movie I have seen when Martin seduces a reluctant married man who is on his way home to try and impregnate his wife by sucking him off in a train car, and the scene leaves you no doubts that it is indeed real, to include the cum that runs out of her mouth and back down on his cock in the end....that wasn't necessarily what made the scene such an enjoyable one, I think it also has to do admiration of her seduction and the power she had over him.

Anyway, I digress somewhat. As the two women were tallying up their score, L made some comment on whether or not they had cleaned up in between fucks, and then looked at me and said "You would probably like that though, wouldn't you?"

"To a certain extent, I would," I said.

I do not mind fucking L after she has been used by another, to clarify, after I have made her be used by another. It has happened several times. When we have out threesomes with other men, I will typically let the other man fuck her before I do, and depending on what else we are doing to her, we will take turns, L on her back on the bed with her legs spread and her cunt dripping as one cock enters her, pulls out, and is replaced by another cock. Typically, her mouth is occupied by whatever cock isn't inside her cunt. Her being used is a turn on to me, to fill her after she has been filled by another is a turn on to me. Her cunt has been filled by the cum of myself and another man on one occasion. I view none of it as being something so crude as "sloppy seconds"; I view it as her ultimate submission to me, to allow me to share her as a sex object, a fuck toy...my slut. My willing and dripping slut.

I do not mind fucking her after she has being used by another, but would there be a limit to that?

We talk, jokingly, about gang bangs, about me taking her out in the woods somewhere and tying her naked to a tree as one man after the other fucks her. We talk joking about those things, but those discussions of such fantasies turn us both on and we usually end up fucking.

But how would that be in reality?

How many cocks fucking her would be too many, were I to follow how I normally do it and let the other..and in this instance, it would be others....how many would be too many? When it is just one another man, I can still slide inside her after wiping her out and she is still incredibly tight, but how many cocks would it take before she wasn't tight, before her cunt truly did feel used? How many men coming inside her, coming on her, would be too many? The spunk of several men running out of her cunt, drying on her tits, on her face, in her hair, her pussy raw and red...how many would be too many?

How many?

I'm not sure.

But wouldn't it be fun to try out?

Sunday, October 23, 2016

Easy like Sunday morning

Of all the times throughout the week, Sunday mornings are our favorite time for L and I. It is the one morning of the week where we don't have to get up early for work or to take our son to hockey practice, and, for the most part, the children know not to disturb us before 10a.m. 

Sunday mornings usually turn sexual, sometimes they don't. More often than not, we're just thankful for that time together, watching something idiotic on television, sipping our coffee, buried under blankets, something that is even nicer now that the temperature is dropping outside.

This morning we were lying there, L's head resting on my lap, and then her hand was under the blanket and on top of my boxer briefs...slowly rubbing, expecting a reaction of some type, and she got one rather quickly. And then her hand was inside of my boxer briefs...."let me adjust this for you" she said, moving my half-erect cock so that the head was sticking out of the side of the briefs. And then her head disappeared under the covers and was on me, slowly, gently sucking the tip, tongue flickering around it....

Half-erect became fully-erect.

Our bedroom door was wide open.

"I better stop," she said, and she rolled over and went back to the television program we were watching.

I got out of bed and in two quick strides was at the bedroom door which I promptly closed and locked and was just as quickly back in the bed with her, this time sans boxer briefs, my cock hard and at full attention, eager to finish what she had started.

She was ready.

I was then beside her on the bed and grabbed her by the hair and directed her mouth back towards my cock, and unlike the slow sucking she had just minutes ago administered on me, this time, there was nothing slow about it as I held on to her head and fucked her mouth, and I watched as my cock slide in and out, enjoying equally the visual of that as well as the sounds, those great sounds of a Sunday morning blowjob.

There was no way to keep that up much longer so I pulled out of her mouth and was on top of her, spreading her legs forcefully and rubbing the head of my cock between her oh so wet cunt before I thrust inside of her, and I fucked her as she pushed up against me, her face buried in my chest to mask her moans of pleasure while I enjoyed those great sounds of wet Sunday morning fuck.

She came quickly, surprising her, and I was glad, because there was no way I was going to last long, especially since we didn't have sex the previous day (a rarity, really) so when the last of her orgasm had subsided I gave one more thrust and came ferociously, spurt after spurt filling her up, as she continued to thrust up against me. 

After that, we lay there for just a bit...satisfied and sticky, the forgotten television program still on, the morning sun streaming through our curtains, the smell of our sex lightly hanging in the air.

Shortly afterwards, we got out of bed and started our day, the best moment of our day behind us, at least until tonight when we are back in bed and, with the door locked and the kids in bed, we end the day the exact same way we started it.

Tuesday, August 2, 2016

In a cabin. In the woods.

I took L to a cabin in the woods, and it wasn't any woods; this cabin in the woods happened to be located in an isolated community off of the grid, above the Arctic Circle.

I took L to a cabin in the woods. The sole purpose of the trip was not to take her somewhere secluded where I could completely restrain her and work her over with a variety of implements with little to no concern to the sounds that were made. That just happened to be a nice side benefit to the trip.

In the cabin in the woods, in a small bedroom and on a double bed, I tied L's hands firmly with rope that was tied around the bed leg. I forced her legs apart and restrained them with the spreader bar.

I had not put her in such a vulnerable position since we got married, but now, here she was, my wife, helplessly spread before me, whimpering into her pillow, and more than likely a little bit wet, as I took the implements out of my backpack, one by one.

But first a punishment had to be delivered for an infraction the night before, and for that I chose my bare hand, which rarely gets used because as satisfying as the sounds of a hand smacking across a bare ass is, it also tends to resonate through the house. I punished her with my hand, smacking down hard across her ass, and she cried out loudly, but I didn't care because no one was going to hear her out in the cabin in the woods.

Soon, the punishment was over, and the toys came out. The whip was followed with the flogger which was followed with a wooden clothes hanger from the closet, and then back to the whip, but this time with the studded handle. I made marks across her bare back with the ends of the flogger. I struck the back of her thighs with the whip. I paused from time to time to inspect her cunt, to investigate her wetness, and I was never disappointed, I could feel the heat from her moisture even before I put in one finger, then two, then three, shoving them inside of her, the other hand shoving her face into the pillow. Which was not necessary. I should have let her scream in pleasure, because no one would hear her in our cabin in the woods.

I fucked her from behind on that double bed, still with hands ties and spreader bar keeping her legs spread for me. I fucked her from behind and I fucked her hard, slamming into her ass, sliding in as deep into her as I could, and by the fifth thrust she had her first orgasm, followed soon by another, and then another. On that last orgasm she came so hard she shoved my cock out of her oh-so-slick cunt, just as I was about to come myself, so I had to quickly aim my cock for the crack of her ass and her back, where I unloaded all over her.

And then, later: There in that double bed in the small bedroom in the secluded cabin in the woods, we slept quite soundly, the smell of our sex hanging in the air and on us.

We only stayed in that cabin for one night, but we certainly made good use of that night.

We are no longer there. That was last night, and now we are back home, in the middle of town, a house full of kids. We are in our bedroom, and in our king bed. There is no seclusion.

I've still got my backpack of toys in the closet, and I'm not that interested in putting them away. Yes, a cabin in the woods works marvelously for intense sessions like the one had last night. But we can't always be in a cabin in the woods. Do we have to worry about sounds? Yes, we do.

But isn't that what ball gags are for?

Sunday, July 24, 2016

I blame it on the tanktop

The thing is, L does not wear tanktops that often, so when she put it on yesterday during one of our rare nice days of summer, I was pleasantly surprised. She proceeded to cover it up with a shawl, but I was there in the bedroom when she put it on, and even that act alone got a rise out of me. She was getting ready to leave the house without me for a shopping trip, and from time to time I like to direct her to wear something that will make men want to fuck her.

The tanktop outfit met that criteria, capped off with a skirt that showcased her magnificent legs; perfectly toned and shaped, the type that are easy to imagine wrapped around you as you fuck her, or the type that you force open so you can expore the treasure in between with your tongue.

Before she left the bedroom I pushed her up against the closet and kissed her hard, grabbing her hand and shoving it into my crotch where the throbbing within showed her just how pleased I was with her outfit.

What was it about the tanktop? I suppose first and foremost it was the way it accentuated her breasts, pushing up against the fabric, a delicious display of her cleavage. Maybe it was the shoulders, bare and exposed in a manner that I wanted to make her wince in pain and pleasure as I bit into them with my teeth.

She doesn’t wear tanktops that often, and I think I was just enjoying that.

That took place early in the afternoon, and the rest of the day was  spent with kids and errands and chores around the house, and it wasn’t until later that I was able to finish showing her just how much I liked her tanktop.

It started with lying in bed, and I was contemplating the need for a shower when L volunteered to save me the hassle and to clean me up with a washcloth. She, at the time, was wearing nothing but the tanktop and panties, as I instructed her to wear to bed.

She got the washcloth and sponged me off, starting with my face and then proceeding down to my chest, armpits and arms. And then, pulling my boxer briefs down and cleaning down there, along the cock, and under the balls….



And it didn’t take long at all, I think it was even before she pulled down my boxers and I was hard, because damn! That tanktop, those breasts pushing against the fabric, and now I had the visual combined with the sensation of warm washcloth sponging off my cock..those elements combined, and I had to have her, and could not wait.

And then she was off the bed, and kneeled on the floor, and there beneath my eyes was that cleavage and the fabulous curve of her breasts from inside the tanktop, and my hand was on the top of her head guiding her forward, not giving her much of a choice really, and her mouth was on me…on my balls, on my cock…sucking…licking stroking.

It would have been so easy to finish right there, on the spot, her on the knees, pulling out of her mouth at the last second and unloading spurt after spurt of hot cum on her, dripping down her chest…in between her breasts…on her tanktop.

That did not happen, and I don’t recall how much longer it was before it happened, but then she was back on the bed, underneath me, and I was pressing against her, my hand under her tanktop, under her bra, pulling at her tits, pulling the fabric down so I could nibble and suck at them, shoving my cock against her, dry humping her while my mouth was all over her. At one point, I was in between her legs…those legs I mentioned above…and my tongue was lapping at her, in her, around her clit, my hands still up under her tanktop…and she came rather quickly.

And then…..my turn…I was back on top of her and moved her panties to the side so I could penetrate her, and I fucked her hard in that position, my torso pressed against her breasts still contained within her tanktop…that damn tankop! It all started there…and I fucked her hard and with deliberation, which, by the way, is pretty much how we fuck.

Tanktop or no tanktop.

I came inside her hard.

Rolling off of her, breathing rapidly, I took a moment to catch my breath.

“That was perfect,” I said.

She murmured in agreement.

“You need to buy more tanktops,” I suggested.

She murmured in agreement. 


Thursday, June 30, 2016


Last week found L joining me on an impromptu trip to our favorite city in the U.S, New Orleans. Well, it was somewhat impromptu. We were intending to take a cruise out of New Orleans for our honeymoon, in conjunction with a work trip I had planned there, but we then decided to postpone the honeymoon cruise to December and I would do the work trip on my own.

That was short lived. No sooner had I landed in New Orleans than I was texting L back home to tell her that she simply had to be there, that being in the city that we felt such an affinity to without her just felt wrong, even if my sole purpose being there was for work. It did not take much encouragement, and 24 hours later, she was joining me for what we were classifying as an abbreviated pre-honeymoon.

We only had three nights to spend, and we knew for certain that one of those nights we would take part in some debaucherous activity as we had our last time to New Orleans, whether that be a threesome with an anonymous man in our hotel room or a visit to the local swingers club, which I never did post about it in full detail. We were excited by it because it would be the first time embarking on such a kinky encounter as husband and wife.

I went the direction of finding a third man to join us in our hotel room and posted an ad on Craigslist, that, between the pictures I posted and the explicit detail in which I described would happen, was inundated with emails. A majority of them were duds that didn't get the time of the day, but many took took the time to go into explicit detail themselves about what they would like to do. There were an abundance of cock pictures, and the more impressive ones I forwarded on to L while I was busy at my conference, so she could wonder and fantasize about what it would feel like to have one of her holes stuffed by an anonymous 9" cock (apparently quite effective, as she was not shy to describe how wet she was after receiving said messages).

So it would have been more than easy to secure a third for an evening of sharing, but as it turns out, our travels took us back to the swinger's club, Collette. Because quite frankly, I can easily secure a third to fuck her back home, but opportunities for clubs such as Collette are few and far between.

We found our way there easily, and dressed quite nicely for our evening out. Upon checking in, they still had us in their system from our last visit so we went through easily and made our way to the bar. Colette is a BYOB establishment, they don't serve liquor on premise with the exception of what you bring for them. We handed over our bottle of rum to the bartender and saddled up to the bar along with our fellow patrons.

It was a light crowd. Perhaps 10 of us at the bar? Mostly couples, with the exception of an odd looking solo male lurking in the corner who was creeping us out.

We had a drink. Then two. Then after the second one, we went upstairs to where the entertainment was.

And that was when we were surprised.

Turns out that we were there on Wicked Wednesday, and while I knew that to be the case, I was not aware of the details. Turns out Wicked Wednesday is the theme night for BDSM activities.

We. Had. Arrived.

In the main room there was an explicit BDSM scene playing out on the large screen TV while over in the corner a cross was set up and the on-side Dominant had a guest sub restrained while he worked her over with a few devices from his tool box while the rest of us observed. It was, by our standards, quite time. His flogging was gentle at best, and nothing was done that would come close to leaving a mark. Still, it was intriguing to watch.

Bored with the lackadaisical activity, we moved to another room, where two women were demonstrating quite lovely rope techniques. L and I have never gotten into the inner working of rope play, so it was fascinating to watch the artistic endeavors that go into such an activity. We watched this for awhile before boredom hit us again, and we wandered down the hallway.

Finding nothing else to observe, I decided we might as well put on a show of our own.

There were curtain-covered side rooms with beds along the hallway, and I grabbed L and dragged her into one and pushed her onto the bed, raising her dress at the same time. The spanking began instantly, and without hesitation, and most assuredly, loud enough to attract attention of those wandering nearby.

I had the curtains closed at first, giving us privacy, but then I decided that it was no sense of doing this without an audience, so I opened both the sheer curtains and the dark curtains, and our room and the activities occurring within were totally exposed. I kept up with the hand spanking, and then decided it was time for more, and minus a tool chest that the aforementioned Dom had, made good use of my belt. Lash after lash I struck L's ass with it, stopping from time to time for a cunt inspection, my fingers revealing a sheen from her moisture, even in the darkness.

We were watched. Some people stopped, others peeked in and kept going. I only noticed them peripherally, my focus on my sub and wife. She was writhing and moaning, a mixture of pleasure and pain, and with each lash of the belt, the was going deeper and deeper into subspace. At one point she begged me to hit her harder. At one point she begged me to use the buckle.

Our show as most definitely trumping the gentle show we had previously observed.

Lash after lash, and then I was in need of more, and I took my cock out of my pants and grabbed the back of her head and pulled her on to it, and she was sucking, frantically and urgently, and I knew we were being watched and that only got me harder, so I grabbed the back of her head even harder and fucked her mouth.

From there it went to more, and I pushed her back on the bed, and I was on top of her, and my pants were barely down from my ass, and I was inside her fucking her with ferociousness. She responded with moans and cries, not shy with her vocalizations, sharing her pleasure verbally for others to hear. There were, four, maybe five watching? I didn't care. My attention was on my sub. My wife. My pet. Fucking her, pounding into her, wanting her sounds to be louder, and when she came, they were louder, and I continued, slamming into her oh so AMAZINGLY wet cunt, and did I mention, we were being WATCHED, and then I came as well, hard, fast, and just like her, not  shy with the vocals.

Panting, gasping, I stayed on top of her. The watchers dispersed, giving us our privacy. The bed was soaked with cunt juices and cum. "Clean up on Aisle 4" my smart ass sub said.

We tidied up and exited our room. In the main room, a male sub was being whipped by a Domme. In the other room, activity had headed up.

We headed back to the bar.

We didn't stay long. L was still floating, still partly adrift into sub space, and the transition from our room to the loud noises of the bar were a bit of a shock. We had half of a drink and then left back to our hotel, which was only a few blocks away.

We crawled into bed, we talked about the night, and not much longer....

We were fucking again.

Minus the crowd.

Minus the show.

It was still pretty fucking good.

Wednesday, June 8, 2016

Afternoon Delight

We used to fuck at lunch time.

We used to always fuck at lunch time, because lunch time was the only time we COULD fuck. We met at my place, around the noon hour, secluded in the hills with a long winding driveway that gave us total privacy. I would usually pick up something from one of our favorite restaurants on the way there -- Mexican, Thai food, pizza from a dive bar that was friggin' awesome -- and we would meet for lunch, and then we would fuck, and go back to work, looking forward to the next day when we would hopefully meet for lunch and fuck again.

What's not to love about the lunch time fuck, especially when going back to work afterwards. Her with my cum dripping out of her and having to rush to the bathroom each time she sneezed and a substantial amount trickled into her stained panties; me with the sticky cock and the smell of her on me and I would, on occasion, sneak off into the bathroom and run my fingers along my balls just so I could smell her scent. And that secret. Of going into meetings, of interacting with my colleagues, smiling and being professional with them, all the time knowing what just happened an hour or so ago.

The fucking at lunch time.

We used to fuck at lunch time.

We still fuck at lunch time.

But not as often, but because now we can fuck in the morning and we can fuck at night. We can fuck whenever we want. Wherever we want.

We fucked at lunchtime today. L was home, I swung by after spending my lunch hour at the gym and wanting to grab a quick bite before going back to work. It is a blessing to live somewhere where everything is five minutes away. L had lunch waiting for me when I stepped in the door, and after eating, we stepped in the bedroom for a quick break before I went back to work. It was meant just as that, a break, to watch a few minutes of television and indulge with the 420 before I headed back to work.

Something happened, of course. L teasingly slid her breast out of her summer dress for what she called a gratuitous nipple shot. I said I had to go back to work. The first Superman movie, the one with Christopher Reeve was on, and it was around the moment that Jor-El was about to place his infant son in rocket to send him to earth that I took L's hand and placed it on top of my dress slacks, where something was stirring.

From there she was undoing my belt...unzipping my zipper...unsnapping my pants...pulling them down slightly, and then my briefs, where that said something that was stirring was straining at the fabric, and with the briefs pulled down, was there in all its glory and demanding...throbbing, I tell you!...for attention and service.

And service it she did, taking it in her mouth, my hand on the top of he heard, guiding her and controlling her, her actions not of the gentle and slow variety, but fast and with passion, with the talents of an exceptional cock sucker. On the screen Kal-El was heading towards earth, and whatever sounds the spaceship was making on its descent was masked by L's delicious slurping sounds.

And then...stopping. Just in time, actually. We did not do "anything" the day before and after 24 hours, I tend to, uh, get quite the "build up" and four years into this D/s relationship, L is still not entirely on board with the act of swallowing. She took her lovely mouth of me and then pulled my pants and briefs down even further, and then she was reaching under her sun dress and moving her panties off to the side (the panties I had chosen for her to wear before I left for work that morning), just enough to get access to what is needed, and as she held my cock with her hand, she lowered herself on me.

So tight. So incredibly fucking tight.

And good fucking christ, so incredibly fucking wet.

She lowered herself on me, and she rode me, leaning back, my cock hitting her at the magical spot, and I knew I was not going to last long given what her mouth had just gotten done doing to me, waited for her orgasm to hit, and hit it did, and she came, silently, since children were out in the near by living room. She came and she continued to ride me, and I thrust up myself at the moment of release, and came deep inside of her, spurt after spurt.

After she got off of me, I got up, tucked my semi-hard cock back into my pants, still with drops of cum dripping off of the tip. I told her how good she was, kissed her on the lips, told her I loved her and would see her in a few hours, and headed back to the off, exceptionally satisfied.

Oh, and L?

She took a nap. In our bed. As my wife.

We used to fuck at lunch time.

We still fuck at lunch time.

And it is so much better now.

Sunday, May 29, 2016

And so we were wed

And just like that, it happened. Years of wanting this moment to happen, at times thinking it would never happen, it happened. We got married. S and L. In an actual church, with a pastor, in front of more than 100 friends and relatives, we proclaimed our never ending love for each other in the most traditional of manners, albeit with some light moments. We got married, the two of us, and then we had a fantastic reception with an abundance of food and alcohol and a killer 12-piece 70's style funk band, and thanks to them, our typical non-dancing legs were sore for days. We got married, and we celebrated, and we loved every second of it.

And then we had our wedding night, back in our hotel suite, and this, dear reader, is where you are waiting for details of the deliciously kinky things that transpired.

And then this is where we disappoint you.

Because for the most part, ever since we done got hitched a week ago, things have been relatively vanilla in the world of S and L.

Well, for the most part. Keep in mind that on our wedding night, it was close to 1:30a.m. before we checked into our hotel and our day started around 7a.m., so we were pretty damn exhausted, but not so exhausted that I couldn't present L with her new collar, to replace the one I put on her more than four years ago when we embarked on this journey. And we did consummate our marriage, of course, with L riding me in the hot tub in our suite.

And just like that, we were married, more than a week ago, and we still have not had what would be defined as a hardcore session since then, surprisingly enough. Two days after our wedding we were still hosting out of town relatives, and once they left, we were too exhausted to do much of anything other than stare adoringly at each other in ways that others probably found annoying, and just enjoying the fact that we were married. We went out of our way to call each other "husband" and "wife", were always finding ways to be close to each other, holding hands, kissing, and acting like the newlyweds we were.

And we fucked. We fucked at night and we fucked in the morning. We fucked hard and intense. I spread my wife's legs apart and rubbed the head of my cock up and up down her wet slit as she begged me to fuck her, tried to reach down with her hand and force myself inside her and I would have to smack her hand away, and then I would slide inside, not gentle, not soft, not careful but FAST and HARD and IMMEDIATE, and this woman...my pet...my sex slave...my wife...cried out when I did so, when the full length of my hardness was deep inside her, and she dug her nails into he back of her husband.

We fucked and we loved and we enjoyed the moment in its entirety.

But the D/s?

It hasn't necessarily been there. Not yet. We're just too damn silly romantic right now, not to mention that we are both staying up way too late at night to get in a proper, bonafide session.

But we can sense it coming.

We can sense it coming, and there will be that moment when I attach a spreader bar to my wife for the first time and violate her ass with an anal hook; there will be that moment when I blindfold and ball gag her as I fuck her cunt with an exceptionally large dildo; there will be that moment when she kneels before me in the shower and I mark my territory with my hot piss; there will be that moment when we are in  a hotel room in some city somewhere in the world and I drag her over, collared and leashed, to some anonymous stranger sitting naked in a chair and command her to suck his cock and suck it proper.

It's coming.

It is there.

L knows it. I know it.

But for now it is just





Monday, May 16, 2016

"Wedding? What wedding?"

You'll have to forgive us for lack of postings as of late but preparing for a major wedding will that do to you. With five days left until the big event and a guest list that keeps growing each day...we have now topped the 200 mark...it has been an all consuming affair, stressful in some areas, exceptionally exciting in other areas.

Five days until S and L become Mr. and Mrs.

The collared L becomes the ringed L.

It is only going to escalate over the next few days as family comes to town and we start the final preparations. We have done our best to stay connected, to not let the nervousness overwhelm us, to reach out and communicate to each other, to support each other, to revel in the excitement of it all like two teenagers preparing for prom. The D/s aspects of our relationship have hovered in the background of all of it, not necessarily guiding us so much as being there as a reminder of why we were together...and what the future held for us.

Hovering in the background, that is, until last night when it roared to the front of the crowd.

"I need you to take my mind off of all of this," L stated as we got into bed last night and she draped herself over my lap with her bare ass raised. "Please."

So I did.

I worked her ass over with the handle of our whip and then later, with my fists, punching away at her cheeks until she came, gushing all over the sheets. I ball gagged her to keep her moans of pain and pleasure from disturbing the children. I fucked her relentlessly with a dildo, enjoying the sight of it thrusting in and out of her bare cunt that she just recently waxed in preparation for our wedding night. I fucked her face with my cock and then turned over so she could bury her tongue in my ass while she stroked me.

I put my hands over her throat and took her breath away...but not too hard...because I didn't want my beautiful bride to walk down the aisle with a bruised neck.

After I had come, and she had come again...I took the Hiatchi out of the nightstand, commanded her to spread herself, and held it tight against her clit and brought her to yet another orgasm.

"Is that better?" I asked her afterwards, as she cuddled tight up against me.

"Wedding?" she murmured. "What wedding?"

Monday, April 11, 2016

I now pronounce you Dominant and submissive

The month of May is going to be a monumental one for L and I as not only do we celebrate our 4th anniversary as a D/s couple, but, more importantly, the month will close with us being a married couple.

It is approaching quickly, and a great amount of time has been spent on the final preparations. Correction. L has spent a great amount of time on the preparations, jumping into it with tremendous energy and focus, while I have been content to help where needed and when asked. There are some things in our relationship that I don't need to be in control of, planning our wedding is one of them. What is important to me is that the day itself be one that L is truly happy with. Certain aspects of it overwhelm me almost at times, especially the growing number of attendees, which is surpassing the estimated 150 and steering closer to 200.

Anyone who has read our blog from the very beginning knows that our journey as a couple has not been an easy one; there have been times, years ago, when the idea of us getting married seemed like an unattainable fantasy. Even today, with the reality of our wedding evident throughout the house as we handle invitations and everyday seems to find a new package arriving containing something for the wedding, it seems a bit surreal, and I suspect that surrealism will hold true even up until the moment that we look into each other's eyes and profess "I do."

Though L and I have been carrying on like a married couple for a good three years now, we view this next step as being a big one, with elements of it trickling out into every aspect of our relationship. That certainly holds true in respect to our D/s relationship. Yes, L did sign a contract giving herself completely to me close to four years ago. Yes, she does consider herself to be owned by me, and we were already into this relationship until death do we part.

In my mind getting married takes the D/s relationship to a whole other level. L will not just be my pet, my submissive, my fiancee....she will be my wife, with her last name being the same as mine, and my sense of ownership of her will be escalated. We have talked about this in depth, with my saying the words "Just wait until we are married...." on a fairly regular basis. She knows that as my wife I might have different expectations of her than I did before, more so out of the bedroom than in the bedroom. To paraphrase Nigel Tufnel from "This is Spinal Tap", things will go to 11.

Typically on our D/s anniversary, I review the contract and usually make some adjustments to it, I am holding off on presenting L with a new one until after we are married. I am also planning on presenting L with a new collar on our wedding night, to replace the one that she has worn for the last four years.

We are getting married soon. Very soon. The day will bring with it a bevy of emotions, from the official ceremony in front of our family and friends, and then, later that night in our hotel room, as my wife kneels before me and I slip the new collar around her neck, and the journey of S and L...the taming of L...continues, full speed ahead.

Saturday, April 9, 2016

Prepared for Sir

Taken two weeks ago. Once I had her legs firmly secured with the spreader bar, and she raised her ass for me, I do not recall if the first thing I did was get the rug beater out and work her over until she faded off into subspace, or if I kneeled behind her, spread her legs even further apart, and penetrated her wetness.

At any rate, whichever the order, both of those acts occurred.

Saturday, April 2, 2016

Happy birthday to me

L and I enjoyed a hotel room to ourselves last night to celebrate my birthday. The hotel room was the icing on the cake.

Here is a photo of the cake.

And yes, I ate it up and went back for seconds.

Saturday, March 26, 2016

Sinful Sunday: Raw

I always enjoy the more innocent erotic pictures in Sinful Sunday, the ones that one has to use some imagination to bring out the naughtiness; to imagine what is contained behind an article of clothing, a bedroom door, or what a facial expression is really saying.

This is not one of those pictures.

Friday, March 25, 2016


Typically I am the biggest violator of creating the wet spot in our bed, but last night...holy fuck, last night!...with L's legs up and on my shoulders as I thrust inside her, hard and pounding and hitting that PERFECT spot and she came with an intensity that I have not seen in quite some time, an orgasm that would have resulted in screams did we not have children in the house...and that orgasm was followed by a warm gushing of liquid that I felt splash up against me, and I didn't let her recover from that orgasm but rather kept pounding away, her wetness coating my thighs...and I brought out her second orgasm, and a second gushing...

This coming from the pet who used to claim that female ejaculation was a myth.

Our sheets tell a much different story. It might be difficult to tell from the above picture, but this is a significant portion of the sheets that she managed to drench.

I'm hoping to create the same effect this weekend, but this time, with my face being the recipient of her wetness as my tongue works away on her.

And just like the wet spot I usually create, she had to sleep in it.

24 hour notice

"I'm going to fuck you in the ass tomorrow night," I told L the other evening.

It was the courteous thing to do, I suppose, to give her 24 hours notice before I violated her anally. This particular act is a rarity in our sex life, probably in the single digits, going back to the very first time almost four years ago. L is not a fan of it at all, claiming my size makes it too uncomfortable for her, which I suppose is flattering but truth be told, I don't think that I am sporting anything down there that can't be handled with the proper amount of lube.

So it is an uncommon act, and generally when we have done it, as was the case with this one, it is during that time of the month. Lately during that time of the month we have taken to L pleasuring me orally with the outcome of my pleasure ending up all of her. Marking my territory, so to speak. We both know though that her ass is there for me to use whenever I like, I just choose not to usually because, hey! Kind Dom.

But this last week the urge struck me, because as wonderfully tight as she keeps her cunt (thank you, Kegel exercises) it doesn't compare to the exquisite tightness of entering her from behind. Not to mention the visual. Not to mention the brutality that comes with the whole notion of ass fucking.

She had a 24 hour notice.

Excerpt from my memo to L on 3/21/2016:

Thoughts today of the head of my cock pressed against your ass before I ever so slowly, and with plenty of lube, slide on in. Do you suppose that you will whimper in pain when I do so, and will there be a part of you that will be turned on by the sensation of being properly fiilled up by your Sir?

She didn't try to talk her way out of it, but instead asked if we could do it on our sides, with her spooning against me. We had never tried it in that position, instead I have always opted for the classical doggie style position. Girl on the Net, one of my favorite sex bloggers out there, wrote a column once praising this position, so I was intrigued by it. After all, it's not about the position. It's about the ass. And fucking it.

That night in bed we embarked on a fairly intense session, I think in part because of the act to come I was feeling extra Dominant and she was feeling extra submissive. I wanted to plunge her into the fuzzy world of subspace, so I was quite rough. Delivering punches to her ass (one of her favorite acts now), choking her, slaps across the nipple, shoving my cock down her throat. Calling her names.

20 minutes into this, she uttered the words I didn't think she would ever say.

"Please fuck me up the ass Sir."

I shoved her over to her side and she tucked her legs up to her chest, while I grabbed the lube out of my drawer and applied a generous amount to my cock. I then pressed myself against her, my cock nestled in between the crack of her ass. An adjustment here. An adjustment there. She reached down with her hand and guided it into her opening and pushed back against me. First my head, and then, inch by inch, the rest of me.

And fuck if Girl on the Net wasn't right, this position worked MUCH better than the previous attempts from behind, the ease of which I was able to fully be inside her was much better, and once I was fully inside her, I pulled out, and pushed back again, my hands firmly grabbing her hips.

Pulled out...

Then back in.

You know.

I fucked her up the ass.

She whimpered, a combination of pain and some unexpected pleasure, and asked me to please not take long, to please come soon, so I then pushed her back over so she was face down, my cock still deep inside her, and took her that way, my thrusts becoming more forceful, and before long...not long at all, actually, I came HARD inside her, leaving my cock fully inserted in her ass as spurt after spurt filled her up. I then pulled out, a trail of my cum following, and I grabbed her panties from the bed and used them to wipe out the cum dripping out of her ass as well as the cum still dribbling out of my cock.


I praised her that evening, told her what a good job she did and how proud I was of her. Which is what she wanted to hear.

She did do a great job, but then again...she did have 24 hours notice.

The next time she might not be so lucky.

Friday, March 11, 2016

Q & A Month

Little did I know that March is apparently Q & A month, and an anonymous reader asked if I/we would be participating.

Sure. Why not?

The door has been open. Ask away in the comments section below, and you can direct questions to either one of us.

No topic is off limits. We're all family here. A very twisted, kinky family but family, nonetheless.

Tuesday, February 23, 2016

punching and fucking

Over the close to four years since L and I have been immersed in our D/s relationship we have discovered a number of different methods to find pleasure in the midst of pain. I do believe that even to this day, as we shed our rookie status in these endeavors, it still sometimes surprises L how intense those feelings of pleasure can be when the method being used is far from conventional.

"What do you do to me?" she will murmur at the end of a lengthy session, as she floats through the world of subspace, curled up in the fetal position next to me.

We have tried different instruments over the years, ordered a variety of devices from The Stockroom. There has been the flogger with the beaded tips, the cane, the whip, and over the last several onths or so, a highly effective and heavy rug beater. which I once demonstrated for my readers in the following video.

Then there have been items from around the house. A plastic coat hanger. Wooden spoons. Her collar. My belt. One time, on the deck of the cabin I used to live in, a branch from a nearby tree.

What device I use on any given night depends on the proximity of children. So those items that can inflict pain while at the same time not be hear beyond the bedroom door are quite popular. This of course eliminates my hand and the pleasure of a proper spanking.

But my hand closed into a fist is not as loud as a flat hand.

And it is much more effective.

Punching L's ass in  a session has been a glorious undertaking for both of us. There is something about the impact of it that soaks her instantly and throws her into the depths of sub space within minutes. Alternating between one cheek, and then the next...the marks appearing instantly. It's a satisfying feeling for me as well, the brutality of it that appeals to my sadistic side. But it is satisfying more than anything because when I stop punching and thrust my fingers into her cunt, they emerge a wet, sticky mess.

One cheek, then the next. The other night she started shifting and squirming as the punching continued, the pleasure escalating to something more intense, and sensing what was about to happen, I granted her permission.

"Come for me," I said. PUNCH. "Come for me now." PUNCH

And she came, and with her orgasm came a gush of wetness that coated the sheets. I stopped punching, gave her seconds to recover and to wipe out before I flipped her over on her back and spread her legs apart and teased her clit with my hardness before I thrust it inside her. Nothing gentle, nothing soft. I fucked her in the same way I punched her, hard and without mercy. She came once that way, and then I flipped her back over to fuck her from behind, bringing her to her next orgasm before mine followed.

When your foreplay involves punching, making love does not follow.


Punching and fucking.

Fucking and punching.

We would not want it any other way.

Saturday, January 16, 2016


It was a session to end all sessions that night...one hours? Two hours? I had been gone for a week and we were both hungry.

In the middle of all of it, as we caught our breath before going on to something else, there was this moment; I don't have a foot fetish but if I did I would be in heaven with the stocking-clad lovelies that my pet has. I was fixated on them at that moment, I wanted to feel myself pressed up against them, to run the head of my cock along the bottom of her soles. I have never had a foot job, but at that moment, I could see how it would be nice; for her to stroke me to completion with her feet, my cum dripping down on her, seeping through her stockings. Making her all sticky, and whatnot.

We did not get that far. I am sure it would have been nice, but those feet are connected to legs, and further up those legs, in between them if you want me to get specific, was a cunt just as lovely as those feet, and it was there that moments after this picture was taken I found my pleasure.

Sinful Sunday

Friday, January 1, 2016

final fuck/first fuck

There was very little that differentiated the final fuck of 2015 from the first fuck of 2016.

Neither one of them were fucks that were outside of the norm of our regular fucks; for that matter, they veered towards the vanilla. Neither one of them came as a finale to a lengthy BDSM session, contained any type of physical force on my behalf, or were necessarily raw or extremely passionate.

They were, quite simply, fucks.

And damn good ones at that.

The final fuck of 2015 took place around 11:30p.m. December 30. We both had to work the next day and had already stayed up too late watching “Breaking Bad” (which we only recently started viewing, early adapters we are not). The lights had gone out, L was lying next to me collared, and it appeared at first that the night was going to come to a close without any type of sexual activity.

But then, as I often do, I started thinking about, well, things, and before I knew it I had a rather substantial erection in need of attention which I informed L of. I do not believe she was in a similar mood, but with all that “I live to please you” focus in mind, she reached over and gave said erection a few strokes, a lick of the head, and then she was climbing on top of me and easing me inside of her. She proceeded to ride me, and I raised my hips up to match her movements, enjoying the visual aspect of her arched silhouette in the darkness. Minutes later, I thrust up one more time and unloaded as her cunt squeezed every last drop out of me.

Minutes after that, slumber, and the final fuck of 2015 was one for the books.

The first fuck of 2016 took place about two hours ago at 2p.m. on January 1. We had stayed out late, drinking and dancing, and when we fell into bed around 2a.m. I simply did not have it in me to do anything sexual.

But 12 hours later, as I rested in bed next to L, the “hangover hornies” came visiting, thanks in part to (a) L’s lovely bare ass was sticking out of her nightgown, tempting me to take her; (b) I had spent part of the morning enjoying the recently discovered blog of the Girl on the Net, which inspired me greatly to both want to fuck AND write.

Similar to the last fuck of 2015, I informed L of my erection, this time by pushing up against her bare ass, the head of my cock sticking over the top of my cotton shorts. “I can’t do much,” she said, still weary from the night before. “Can I just lie here?”

“That will work,” I said, as I took my shorts off as she rolled over on her back and spread her legs, informing me of how warm she was down below.

She was warm. And wet. And tight. I propped myself up with my arms as I slid insider her, slowly at first, enjoying that first feeling of penetration as she accommodated me. And then, fucking. Not too hard, not too soft…just right.

“My god I love fucking you,” I told her.

Then I came, quite forcefully and quite copiously, to the extent that the handful of tissue she had by her side of the bed did little to contain the aftermath that started running down her thigh as soon as I pulled out. Getting off the bed, I tucked my sticky cock back inside my shorts, as L rolled over to take a nap.

“I’m just going to sleep for a bit,” she murmured. “But feel free to come back in here anytime to use me. Just roll me over.”

With that, the first fuck of 2016 was also one for the books.

There was very little that differentiated the first fuck of 2016 from the final fuck of 2015.

They were, quite simply, fucks.

And damn good ones at that.

Happy new year everyone.