Once again I am guilty of neglecting my little blog and my readers for much too long. I am sorry about that, but real life so often gets in the way. Then again, I never said I would be a prolific or even regular blogger, so I guess you will just have to be patient. I noticed there are already 53 people who follow this blog and I am truly impressed. I had no idea that so many of you would be interested in the things I have to say. Well, welcome to all of you anyway.
Today, I want to say a few things about shows and signs of submission (wonderful alliteration, isn't it?). By that, I mean kneeling, prostrating, kissing of feet and things such as that. While I understand that for some people they are important in their play and lifestyle, I personally have never been a big fan of them. It's not that I object to having a submissive kneel before me as a sign of respect. It's that true submission is found within and not in outward signs of submission. If the kneeling comes from within the submissive as an honest show of submission, that is fine with me. But too often, I feel it is just show.
I would much rather have a submissive who truly puts my wishes and desires above his own, than a submissive who kneels besides my chair all evening thinking to himself: "oh, look everyone, how wonderfully submissive I am". The first one is real to me, the other is not.
Maybe it's because I am not very big on ritual and decorum. You won't find Robert going about the house saying "Yes Mistress" all the time. In my mind, "Mistress" is associated with whips, chains, leather and things such as that and I am just not like that. I am just as much of a Domme in my bathrobe and house slippers. I know some people may disapprove of this and I may be ruining the fantasies of a lot of submissive men, but 'mistressy ' clothes are just not very comfortable to wear and I want to feel relaxed at home. I don't want to be dressed up there all the time, like I am at work. The same goes for Robert. I expect him to do as I say, but he can do that dressed casually and sitting on a chair too. Unless I have specific tasks for him, of course...
I think a lot of these outward signs of submission have become important because of BDSM films. I have seen clips on the web and also film-length recordings, where leather-clad women hover menacingly over naked, shivering and cowering men. Maybe this has shaped the image of how people think a BDSM life should be. I say "life" and not "session" because I think for a session that can be very exciting. But can people really live like that all the time? I think not. It just does not seem possible.
Just like I don't have the time to spend on this weblog that I would like, I don't always have the time or energy to be a Domme. The same goes for Robert to some extent, except of course that he doesn't Domme. He seems to have less trouble with assuming the submissive role. Then again, he is about 10 years younger so maybe that has some influence as well. When I was ill, I did not have the energy to Domme at all, let alone play dress up.
So do I not appreciate signs of submission nor use them? No, that's not true either. As I said before, if a submissive feels he needs to kneel before me because his submission tells him to do so in an earnest way, that is fine with me. I also use kneeling when I feel I really need to put Robert in his place. There is nothing that Robert finds more intimidating than having to kneel naked in the room while he waits for me to come in and begin his scolding. But this I do not consider to be show. It is a functional use of a position to make him feel little and submissive. To us, it is very real.
My intention is not to tell people how they should play or act in this lifestyle. Everyone should do what feels good or right to them. As long as you have fun and do things in a safe, sane and consensual way, don't let this domestic Domme talk you out of what you like.
On this weblog, I intend to write about my thoughts as a Domme, will speak about some of my techniques, will explore my feelings and put down any old rambling that comes to my mind. You have been warned!
Thursday, 4 November 2010
Wednesday, 18 August 2010
BDSM in the open
It's about time that I wrote something again, so here it goes. As you may know from a comment I made under my previous post, Robert and I have been away on vacation. This means that we haven't really played much, but the dynamic did not leave our relationship. That, and he was kept in chastity for the entire time. I suppose that was the reason he was sometimes looking at some of the younger women present. That's his explanation for it anyway. We went to one of those all-in resorts, where you basically don't have to do anything all day. Not my usual choice of holiday destination, but I don't feel up yet to something more active. Travelling there was hard enough for me.
Basically, our holiday consisted of lounging in the shadow of a parasol, taking a swim in the pool or in the nearby Mediterranean and eating. It was warm enough to sleep outside at night, so one didn't have to move off of one's recliner.
Why am I telling you this? This is nothing special, of course. Many people visit such resorts. What was special was that on the second day, Robert directed my attention to a younger couple. At first glance, they were unremarkable. It was then that Robert pointed out her bottom to me, or rather, what was on her bottom. When I took a look, I could immediately see why he was interested in them. She was a cute girl, without a doubt, but on her bottom I could clearly make out crop marks. There were one or two on her thighs as well. They weren't very clear or pronounced, a few days old certainly. Having made plenty of crop marks myself, they were not difficult to recognize tough. From that moment, it became a way to pass the time, watching them secretly. We saw the way she acted around him. Not openly submissive in any way, but there were subtle though clear signs that she was his submissive. It was in the way she spoke to him, touched him, looked at him. Nothing too obvious and most likely not something a vanilla would notice.
They seemed to favour the same corner at the pool as us, which made observing them a bit easier. Now, I don't want you to think we were hiding in the bushes and looking at them through binoculars. But every now and then, I would glance at them over the top of my book. I remember that one morning they came to the pool, and she was wearing her usual bikini with a wrap around her waist, covering her down to her thighs. It was clear that she didn't wear that to hide her fat thighs, because she didn't have fat thighs. It immediately became obvious when she sat down and the wrap opened up a bit at the side: distinct red blotched on her visible bottom cheek. It was obvious she had been spanked shortly before.
I began thinking about the two of the them on holiday together and being so open about this aspect of their relationship. They were not open in an 'in-your-face' type of way. They were also not really hiding their games or lifestyle. I realized I felt admiration and something of jealousy for these young people being so comfortable with their way of life. Here Robert and I were, carefully hiding our lifestyle, being careful not to offend anyone and a little afraid that we would be seen as unacceptable by others. I felt I wanted some of their attitude. When I mentioned this to Robert, he agreed that he felt admiration too. We both wondered why exactly it was that we should hide in the shadows whereas this couple didn't. Should we be less paranoid about being found out? After all, if gay people are (in most modern societies and certainly where we live) more or less accepted, then why should we who practice BDSM have to hide? Are we so different and repulsive to vanillas? Surely not.
I have to admit that it was Robert who expressed curiosity about meeting them first. I was a bit more hesitant but he managed to tickle my curiosity enough to convince me. We decided that I would make contact with her, because woman to woman contact might be easier. When she got up to get drinks, I followed her. As she waited for her drinks, I stood next to her and said softly: "Those are some nice marks you have there."
I guess I scared her a little bit because she immediately pulled the wrap tightly around her. She then acted more or less innocently, but I reassured her by telling her that I understood and that I was one of her "kind". I pointed to Robert and told her that he was my submissive. Her attitude changed again and she became very polite. I could not help but smile because it was interesting to see her attitude change.
To make a long story short, she introduced me to her dominant. To the outside world, he was her fiancé but to her he was the man who owned her. I called Robert over and the four of us had a very entertaining afternoon. I explained to them our feelings as we had observed them, our spot of jealousy and admiration. She was a bit shocked that they had been obvious but he explained that while he didn't want to make people uncomfortable or shock them, he was comfortable enough with his lifestyle to live it. An attitude that is perhaps more healthy than my own, but then again, I grew up in a different time. He had introduced her to this lifestyle. While she had had submissive fantasies all of her life, he was the first man with whom she had explored them. So far, it had been difficult but also very exciting for her. I told them a bit about our relationship, about Robert being my submissive and I could not help but embarrass him by pointing out that he was locked in a chastity device. He (not Robert) laughed heartily at that, nodding approvingly. She was a bit taken aback but also felt admiration for Robert who was willing to make that sacrifice for me. She was a true gem and I consider her dominant very lucky to have found her. She will make an excellent submissive someday.
They left for home 2 days later, but we have exchanged email addresses, promising to keep in touch. I hope we have made new friends.
As for me, I think I have grown a bit through this experience. Perhaps BDSM is becoming more mainstream, more accepted than I thought. Perhaps I should not be so paranoid about hiding my Domme nature. Perhaps being "outed" is not the worst thing that can happen. Fortunately, I live in a society that is quite tolerant. Fortunately, we have the Internet nowadays, so more and more people who are interested in this lifestyle can find information. It is easier than ever to educate oneself about BDSM. We should be grateful for that. It is an excellent medium to educate people about us and our lifestyle.
Basically, our holiday consisted of lounging in the shadow of a parasol, taking a swim in the pool or in the nearby Mediterranean and eating. It was warm enough to sleep outside at night, so one didn't have to move off of one's recliner.
Why am I telling you this? This is nothing special, of course. Many people visit such resorts. What was special was that on the second day, Robert directed my attention to a younger couple. At first glance, they were unremarkable. It was then that Robert pointed out her bottom to me, or rather, what was on her bottom. When I took a look, I could immediately see why he was interested in them. She was a cute girl, without a doubt, but on her bottom I could clearly make out crop marks. There were one or two on her thighs as well. They weren't very clear or pronounced, a few days old certainly. Having made plenty of crop marks myself, they were not difficult to recognize tough. From that moment, it became a way to pass the time, watching them secretly. We saw the way she acted around him. Not openly submissive in any way, but there were subtle though clear signs that she was his submissive. It was in the way she spoke to him, touched him, looked at him. Nothing too obvious and most likely not something a vanilla would notice.
They seemed to favour the same corner at the pool as us, which made observing them a bit easier. Now, I don't want you to think we were hiding in the bushes and looking at them through binoculars. But every now and then, I would glance at them over the top of my book. I remember that one morning they came to the pool, and she was wearing her usual bikini with a wrap around her waist, covering her down to her thighs. It was clear that she didn't wear that to hide her fat thighs, because she didn't have fat thighs. It immediately became obvious when she sat down and the wrap opened up a bit at the side: distinct red blotched on her visible bottom cheek. It was obvious she had been spanked shortly before.
I began thinking about the two of the them on holiday together and being so open about this aspect of their relationship. They were not open in an 'in-your-face' type of way. They were also not really hiding their games or lifestyle. I realized I felt admiration and something of jealousy for these young people being so comfortable with their way of life. Here Robert and I were, carefully hiding our lifestyle, being careful not to offend anyone and a little afraid that we would be seen as unacceptable by others. I felt I wanted some of their attitude. When I mentioned this to Robert, he agreed that he felt admiration too. We both wondered why exactly it was that we should hide in the shadows whereas this couple didn't. Should we be less paranoid about being found out? After all, if gay people are (in most modern societies and certainly where we live) more or less accepted, then why should we who practice BDSM have to hide? Are we so different and repulsive to vanillas? Surely not.
I have to admit that it was Robert who expressed curiosity about meeting them first. I was a bit more hesitant but he managed to tickle my curiosity enough to convince me. We decided that I would make contact with her, because woman to woman contact might be easier. When she got up to get drinks, I followed her. As she waited for her drinks, I stood next to her and said softly: "Those are some nice marks you have there."
I guess I scared her a little bit because she immediately pulled the wrap tightly around her. She then acted more or less innocently, but I reassured her by telling her that I understood and that I was one of her "kind". I pointed to Robert and told her that he was my submissive. Her attitude changed again and she became very polite. I could not help but smile because it was interesting to see her attitude change.
To make a long story short, she introduced me to her dominant. To the outside world, he was her fiancé but to her he was the man who owned her. I called Robert over and the four of us had a very entertaining afternoon. I explained to them our feelings as we had observed them, our spot of jealousy and admiration. She was a bit shocked that they had been obvious but he explained that while he didn't want to make people uncomfortable or shock them, he was comfortable enough with his lifestyle to live it. An attitude that is perhaps more healthy than my own, but then again, I grew up in a different time. He had introduced her to this lifestyle. While she had had submissive fantasies all of her life, he was the first man with whom she had explored them. So far, it had been difficult but also very exciting for her. I told them a bit about our relationship, about Robert being my submissive and I could not help but embarrass him by pointing out that he was locked in a chastity device. He (not Robert) laughed heartily at that, nodding approvingly. She was a bit taken aback but also felt admiration for Robert who was willing to make that sacrifice for me. She was a true gem and I consider her dominant very lucky to have found her. She will make an excellent submissive someday.
They left for home 2 days later, but we have exchanged email addresses, promising to keep in touch. I hope we have made new friends.
As for me, I think I have grown a bit through this experience. Perhaps BDSM is becoming more mainstream, more accepted than I thought. Perhaps I should not be so paranoid about hiding my Domme nature. Perhaps being "outed" is not the worst thing that can happen. Fortunately, I live in a society that is quite tolerant. Fortunately, we have the Internet nowadays, so more and more people who are interested in this lifestyle can find information. It is easier than ever to educate oneself about BDSM. We should be grateful for that. It is an excellent medium to educate people about us and our lifestyle.
Thursday, 22 July 2010
Bitch? No, just confident!
A comment left by Susan' Pet yesterday, got me to think about something. I know many men out there are longing for a dominant woman. They are either single or in a relationship with a vanilla woman and their submissive desires go unfulfilled. Such a shame! It seems as there are just not enough Dommes to go around. But is that true?
I think there is certainly some truth to that. I remember from my own upbringing that I was often reminded that girls are supposed to be "sweet". They are certainly not supposed to be independent, strong willed, capable and bossy. And as they get older, it only gets worse. A woman who knows what she wants and is not afraid to say it or get it, is often referred to as a bitch. Men who are in a relationship with such a woman are "pussy-whipped". The media do not have a favourable view of strong women, most of the time. I think this is too bad. If I had been confident and comfortable with being a strong willed woman, my life might have been different. It took me quite some time to accept myself as a dominant.
There are plenty of men who have problems with strong women. I have encountered this in my work many times. Some men just can't accept women in a position of authority. If you have to instruct them or call them to order, you are immediately viewed as a bitch. Even if you are just trying to do the job you have been hired to do. While most men pay lip service to the sentence "I don't have problems with working under a female boss", the reality is often different. That is not the kind of "lip service" I look for in a man.
Perhaps there are many more dominant woman out there. But because they have been trained from a young age to be sweet, they may never feel confident enough to explore their dominance. So when they are asked to be dominant, they may be taken aback, shocked even, because they are being asked to go against everything they have been taught. The reverse is true for submissive men, who wish to serve a woman. There is much shame associated with a man allowing himself to be dominated by a woman. Somehow, it appears to be "not natural".
If I may, (of course I may, it's MY weblog after all!) allow me to direct a few words at women who are asked to be dominant by a lover. First of all, be honoured! Be very honoured! A man has trusted you enough to share his most hidden desires and fantasies with you. This is huge, since we all know that most men find it very difficult to communicate. So for God's sake, don't panic and loose your head. Of course you are taken aback, but listen to him. If you manage to suspend any judgement, this may very well be one of the most intimate moments you ever share with him. It may also be a start of something new and very special for the both of you. So don't refuse flat out or laugh at him. Most likely he is not asking you to turn into a leather clad, whip wielding dominatrix (and even if he is, would that really be that bad?).
Think about it and be open with yourself. Are you willing to at least consider the option of dominating him? It doesn't have to be full time, but maybe every once in a while. Does it interest you somewhat or not at all? Imagine him doing things for you, such as bringing you breakfast in bed, hoovering the living room, the kind of chores you don't like. One of the benefits of being a Domme means that you will no longer have to, if that is you game. Does that have any appeal? If you find there is absolutely nothing about this that tickles your fancy, then being a Domme is probably not for you. Still, I would say: don't knock it until you try it, but insist that he helps you. After all, he is asking for it, so he must have an idea of what he wants, even if you don't.
I'd also like to direct a few words at the men who are considering asking their lover to become dominant. What you are about to do, is one of the bravest things you have ever done or will ever do. It's wonderful that you put such trust in your partner. But be careful! You are about to confront her with a role in which she most likely never pictured herself. Most likely she will be very surprised that her partner harbours such desires. She may even become upset and feel betrayed that you mention this at the current point of the relationship and blame you that you should have mentioned it earlier. They key here is patience. I can not stress that enough. Be patient. If someone is about to parachute out of a plane for the first time, you don't just push them out of the plane and see how they get on. You instruct them, teach them techniques, tell them what to expect, do tandem jumps and only then do you allow someone to jump solo. A woman who is asked to be dominant is like someone parachuting into completely unknown territory. Don't expect her to know anything about it or understand what she is supposed to do.
Here is where my second piece of advice comes in: C O M M U N I C A T E ! It's not enough to tell her that you'd like her to Domme you. That's a good start, but no more than that. Be very open, answer all her questions and more. Tell her why you want her to do that, tell her how it makes you feel. Tell her that you are there for her and want to help her, if she is willing to experiment. You can not make a woman a Domme against her will no matter how much you want to. She has to at least be open to it. If you've asked her, told her everything she wanted to know and she states that she is not open to it or comfortable with it, you may try and pry why that is. But accept her refusal. Don't push the matter because you'll likely make her even less interested. It's not in everyone. But it could be in the one you asked.
As for me, am I a bitch? Well, if being confident of my abilities, sure of what I expect and not afraid to say it, makes me a bitch, then yes. And in that case I am proud of being a bitch.
I think there is certainly some truth to that. I remember from my own upbringing that I was often reminded that girls are supposed to be "sweet". They are certainly not supposed to be independent, strong willed, capable and bossy. And as they get older, it only gets worse. A woman who knows what she wants and is not afraid to say it or get it, is often referred to as a bitch. Men who are in a relationship with such a woman are "pussy-whipped". The media do not have a favourable view of strong women, most of the time. I think this is too bad. If I had been confident and comfortable with being a strong willed woman, my life might have been different. It took me quite some time to accept myself as a dominant.
There are plenty of men who have problems with strong women. I have encountered this in my work many times. Some men just can't accept women in a position of authority. If you have to instruct them or call them to order, you are immediately viewed as a bitch. Even if you are just trying to do the job you have been hired to do. While most men pay lip service to the sentence "I don't have problems with working under a female boss", the reality is often different. That is not the kind of "lip service" I look for in a man.
Perhaps there are many more dominant woman out there. But because they have been trained from a young age to be sweet, they may never feel confident enough to explore their dominance. So when they are asked to be dominant, they may be taken aback, shocked even, because they are being asked to go against everything they have been taught. The reverse is true for submissive men, who wish to serve a woman. There is much shame associated with a man allowing himself to be dominated by a woman. Somehow, it appears to be "not natural".
If I may, (of course I may, it's MY weblog after all!) allow me to direct a few words at women who are asked to be dominant by a lover. First of all, be honoured! Be very honoured! A man has trusted you enough to share his most hidden desires and fantasies with you. This is huge, since we all know that most men find it very difficult to communicate. So for God's sake, don't panic and loose your head. Of course you are taken aback, but listen to him. If you manage to suspend any judgement, this may very well be one of the most intimate moments you ever share with him. It may also be a start of something new and very special for the both of you. So don't refuse flat out or laugh at him. Most likely he is not asking you to turn into a leather clad, whip wielding dominatrix (and even if he is, would that really be that bad?).
Think about it and be open with yourself. Are you willing to at least consider the option of dominating him? It doesn't have to be full time, but maybe every once in a while. Does it interest you somewhat or not at all? Imagine him doing things for you, such as bringing you breakfast in bed, hoovering the living room, the kind of chores you don't like. One of the benefits of being a Domme means that you will no longer have to, if that is you game. Does that have any appeal? If you find there is absolutely nothing about this that tickles your fancy, then being a Domme is probably not for you. Still, I would say: don't knock it until you try it, but insist that he helps you. After all, he is asking for it, so he must have an idea of what he wants, even if you don't.
I'd also like to direct a few words at the men who are considering asking their lover to become dominant. What you are about to do, is one of the bravest things you have ever done or will ever do. It's wonderful that you put such trust in your partner. But be careful! You are about to confront her with a role in which she most likely never pictured herself. Most likely she will be very surprised that her partner harbours such desires. She may even become upset and feel betrayed that you mention this at the current point of the relationship and blame you that you should have mentioned it earlier. They key here is patience. I can not stress that enough. Be patient. If someone is about to parachute out of a plane for the first time, you don't just push them out of the plane and see how they get on. You instruct them, teach them techniques, tell them what to expect, do tandem jumps and only then do you allow someone to jump solo. A woman who is asked to be dominant is like someone parachuting into completely unknown territory. Don't expect her to know anything about it or understand what she is supposed to do.
Here is where my second piece of advice comes in: C O M M U N I C A T E ! It's not enough to tell her that you'd like her to Domme you. That's a good start, but no more than that. Be very open, answer all her questions and more. Tell her why you want her to do that, tell her how it makes you feel. Tell her that you are there for her and want to help her, if she is willing to experiment. You can not make a woman a Domme against her will no matter how much you want to. She has to at least be open to it. If you've asked her, told her everything she wanted to know and she states that she is not open to it or comfortable with it, you may try and pry why that is. But accept her refusal. Don't push the matter because you'll likely make her even less interested. It's not in everyone. But it could be in the one you asked.
As for me, am I a bitch? Well, if being confident of my abilities, sure of what I expect and not afraid to say it, makes me a bitch, then yes. And in that case I am proud of being a bitch.
Friday, 9 July 2010
Back (2)
Wednesday I wrote about my "comeback", where I caned Robert just because I felt like doing it. I also told that getting back into our lifestyle, resuming control, made me feel better. I still have this wonderful feeling, this rush of power. For women who are not familiar with this lifestyle, I should say this: it is a wonderful thing to be in charge at home and have a man at your beck and call. I am not one to advocate female supremacy, simply because I don't feel that I am better than men. Our species consists of men and women and they both need each other and depend on each other. Robert is equal to me, yet we choose to act as if he is not.
Anyway, getting off my soapbox for a moment, that is not what I wanted to talk about. I have made it no secret on this weblog, that I am a big fan of orgasm control, chastity and erotic teasing and denial games. My return to power has not only made me feel more bossy than I have felt in a long time, it has also awakened feelings of lust which slept during my illness. Yesterday, I told Robert to meet me in the bedroom and to bring his chastity device with him. I saw him swallow in nervous anticipation before he obeyed me. During my illness, I have let him free and since I was not in a mood to play, I am sure he took "matters into his own hands" on more than one occasion. I can't blame him, he has needs and I was not there for him. Since I am in the process of reasserting my control over him, I decided that he needs to be refocused on my needs, not his.
Obedient as always, Robert joined me in the bedroom together with the wooden box in which we keep his chastity device. I immediately told him to strip down to his panties. He obeyed and I already saw a hint of an erection in the blue satin French knickers he was wearing. I began to massage his cock through the fabric and soon I had him fully erect. I told him to place his hands on his head, which he did immediately. I lowered the knickers to his knees, ordering him to keep them there. He spread his legs further and his hard member, completely shaved, was now alone in mid air, open on all sides. I proceeded my massage of his cock, going slowly and pushing all his buttons. The poor boy was trembling in excitement but did his best to remain still. I questioned him about the time when I was not in control, asking him if he had masturbated? He confessed he had. Whether he had achieved orgasms? Again he confessed that he had. Still continuing my slow stroking, I told him that I understood and that I was not angry. That seemed to relax him a bit. Next, I told him that I was planning to refocus him on my needs again, and not his own. That seemed to make him a bit nervous again, but he did not speak. The massage of his cock was still going on and by now he was in quite a desperate state. I saw that he was ready to squirt, so I stopped my manipulations. His poor cock stood there, erect, throbbing and twitching, aching for more. A wonderful sight that always brings a smile to my face. He was panting in desperation, holding back any spillage because I had not given him permission to orgasm.
I explained to him that this refocusing would involve him being locked in chastity at least until July 31. I normally don't use the chastity device for long periods, so this surprised him a bit. I looked at him from my position on the edge of the bed and he looked back. He hesitated only a moment before he replied that if that was my wish, he would accept. His answer pleased me enormously. I felt very proud of him to trust me like this again, after our long dry spell. With my right hand, I began stimulating him again, slowly, teasingly. I told him that I was going to milk him before his lock up began. He thanked me with gasping breath and I saw he was getting close. I know his little signals by now and can play him very well. I raised my left hand and formed a cup with it under his cock head. As soon as he passed the point of no return, I stopped my stimulation, pointing his cock towards the cup of my left hand. With a deep, frustrated sigh, he "came" into my hand. Or rather, his seminal fluid dribbled out and formed a puddle in the palm of my hand. He thanked me as he knelt down and cleaned up his mess with his tongue. I know he hates the taste, but we both love the submissive act of him licking up his semen.
After this little pleasure for him, he was quickly secured in his chastity device and his knickers were hoisted up again. Then it was time for my pleasure. I installed Robert between my knees for a long, thorough session of oral service. Ah, it's good to be in charge!
Anyway, getting off my soapbox for a moment, that is not what I wanted to talk about. I have made it no secret on this weblog, that I am a big fan of orgasm control, chastity and erotic teasing and denial games. My return to power has not only made me feel more bossy than I have felt in a long time, it has also awakened feelings of lust which slept during my illness. Yesterday, I told Robert to meet me in the bedroom and to bring his chastity device with him. I saw him swallow in nervous anticipation before he obeyed me. During my illness, I have let him free and since I was not in a mood to play, I am sure he took "matters into his own hands" on more than one occasion. I can't blame him, he has needs and I was not there for him. Since I am in the process of reasserting my control over him, I decided that he needs to be refocused on my needs, not his.
Obedient as always, Robert joined me in the bedroom together with the wooden box in which we keep his chastity device. I immediately told him to strip down to his panties. He obeyed and I already saw a hint of an erection in the blue satin French knickers he was wearing. I began to massage his cock through the fabric and soon I had him fully erect. I told him to place his hands on his head, which he did immediately. I lowered the knickers to his knees, ordering him to keep them there. He spread his legs further and his hard member, completely shaved, was now alone in mid air, open on all sides. I proceeded my massage of his cock, going slowly and pushing all his buttons. The poor boy was trembling in excitement but did his best to remain still. I questioned him about the time when I was not in control, asking him if he had masturbated? He confessed he had. Whether he had achieved orgasms? Again he confessed that he had. Still continuing my slow stroking, I told him that I understood and that I was not angry. That seemed to relax him a bit. Next, I told him that I was planning to refocus him on my needs again, and not his own. That seemed to make him a bit nervous again, but he did not speak. The massage of his cock was still going on and by now he was in quite a desperate state. I saw that he was ready to squirt, so I stopped my manipulations. His poor cock stood there, erect, throbbing and twitching, aching for more. A wonderful sight that always brings a smile to my face. He was panting in desperation, holding back any spillage because I had not given him permission to orgasm.
I explained to him that this refocusing would involve him being locked in chastity at least until July 31. I normally don't use the chastity device for long periods, so this surprised him a bit. I looked at him from my position on the edge of the bed and he looked back. He hesitated only a moment before he replied that if that was my wish, he would accept. His answer pleased me enormously. I felt very proud of him to trust me like this again, after our long dry spell. With my right hand, I began stimulating him again, slowly, teasingly. I told him that I was going to milk him before his lock up began. He thanked me with gasping breath and I saw he was getting close. I know his little signals by now and can play him very well. I raised my left hand and formed a cup with it under his cock head. As soon as he passed the point of no return, I stopped my stimulation, pointing his cock towards the cup of my left hand. With a deep, frustrated sigh, he "came" into my hand. Or rather, his seminal fluid dribbled out and formed a puddle in the palm of my hand. He thanked me as he knelt down and cleaned up his mess with his tongue. I know he hates the taste, but we both love the submissive act of him licking up his semen.
After this little pleasure for him, he was quickly secured in his chastity device and his knickers were hoisted up again. Then it was time for my pleasure. I installed Robert between my knees for a long, thorough session of oral service. Ah, it's good to be in charge!
Wednesday, 7 July 2010
Back
I'm sorry that I have been away from this weblog for such a long time and without explanation. I realize that if you want to have a weblog, you have to keep it up. I was even beginning to gather a small following, much to my own surprise.
The fact of the matter is that I have been ill, very ill. I won't go into details regarding my illness but I will say that I had so little energy that I was not even able to write here. I just had no inspiration. I have also not been in much of a Domme mood, meaning that there was little to no play at our home.
My doctor tells me that I am getting better and on the road to full recovery. I'll get there in due time. And the good news is that I do feel much better than a few months ago. I have more energy and also my sexual and Domme feelings are coming back.
The last few months have not been easy on Robert, my boy, either. He missed me being me and the power exchange that normally exists between us. He took care of me better than any nurse I could imagine and he did so without a single complaint. It pained me that I could not be there for his needs and my own, to be honest.
Two days ago, I decided it was time to make my comeback. To Robert's considerable surprise, I told him to fetch the cane. He blinked, stunned after months of not getting so much as a single spank, but he obeyed. Before he knew it, it was panties down over the armrest of the sofa. When I saw his upturned bottom presented before me and I felt the familiar grip of the cane in the palm of my hand, I realized how much I had missed being in control. When I told him to fetch the cane, I had decided to make it 12 strokes. At that moment, I decided that I would make it 12 very worthwhile strokes. I told Robert to prepare for a strict caning. He just nodded. With each stroke and each yelp and squirm of him, I felt better. I had so missed doing this! The 12 strokes left 12 beautiful lines on his white flesh. I told him it was over but instead of getting up off the sofa, he sort of slid of sideways, hugged me around the waist while kneeling in front of me, pressed his head against my body and just whispered "Welcome back".
As I watched him putting on his panties this morning as he got ready for work, I smiled at the slowly fading marks on his bottom, clearly visible from underneath the tiny panties. It felt good to be back.
The fact of the matter is that I have been ill, very ill. I won't go into details regarding my illness but I will say that I had so little energy that I was not even able to write here. I just had no inspiration. I have also not been in much of a Domme mood, meaning that there was little to no play at our home.
My doctor tells me that I am getting better and on the road to full recovery. I'll get there in due time. And the good news is that I do feel much better than a few months ago. I have more energy and also my sexual and Domme feelings are coming back.
The last few months have not been easy on Robert, my boy, either. He missed me being me and the power exchange that normally exists between us. He took care of me better than any nurse I could imagine and he did so without a single complaint. It pained me that I could not be there for his needs and my own, to be honest.
Two days ago, I decided it was time to make my comeback. To Robert's considerable surprise, I told him to fetch the cane. He blinked, stunned after months of not getting so much as a single spank, but he obeyed. Before he knew it, it was panties down over the armrest of the sofa. When I saw his upturned bottom presented before me and I felt the familiar grip of the cane in the palm of my hand, I realized how much I had missed being in control. When I told him to fetch the cane, I had decided to make it 12 strokes. At that moment, I decided that I would make it 12 very worthwhile strokes. I told Robert to prepare for a strict caning. He just nodded. With each stroke and each yelp and squirm of him, I felt better. I had so missed doing this! The 12 strokes left 12 beautiful lines on his white flesh. I told him it was over but instead of getting up off the sofa, he sort of slid of sideways, hugged me around the waist while kneeling in front of me, pressed his head against my body and just whispered "Welcome back".
As I watched him putting on his panties this morning as he got ready for work, I smiled at the slowly fading marks on his bottom, clearly visible from underneath the tiny panties. It felt good to be back.
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