Jay and I have come to another impasse in our ever evolving D/s relationship.
To set the stage for how we arrived here…I have had a task from him for a week and a half or two weeks now which I have been quietly deflecting and putting off. It is a very difficult task for me. It involves the two of us going to a particular store. On weeknights when he has called for it I have squirmed out by being too busy with home activities/chores or too tired. Time got away from us this past weekend and I slipped out of the task again.
The task was expected of me again last night which I was passively trying to get out of once again. After our daughter was in bed and our son was in his room studying, Jay took me to our bedroom, had me disrobe and kneel in front of a mirror while he applied the cane to my ass. My head was not in sub mode at all. My responses to his questions were monotone, insolent and irritable. When he finally ordered me to get dressed to go out to complete my task, I fell to the floor whining like a child that I didn’t want to and just couldn’t get in the mood for it.
Jay gave up in frustration. This set the stage for a difficult evening in which we tiptoed around each other, ignoring the elephant in the room.
Jay finally named that elephant as we were parting this morning…I don’t respect him. I didn’t know what to say. I almost cried because I could not deny that he was right. I do absolutely respect him as my husband and life partner. That was not what he meant at all. What he meant, and what I couldn’t deny was that I don’t respect him as my dominant…as my alpha dominant in a station far above anyone else we might bestow the honor of entering into play with me.
I pondered and pondered this all morning and finally discussed with Jay via text (we were both at work and I just couldn’t let it wait all day) the things I had found in my head…
I admitted that he was correct that I did not respect him as I should in his role of ultimate dominance over me. There was no point in denying what we both knew to be the truth.
I went on to explain the reasons I believe I lack this respect. It is my perception that dominance in this context (D/s) is not necessarily something that he is naturally drawn to. It is an interesting phenomenon as Jay’s overall personality if very dominant. He is a confident problem solver and leader both in his professional and family life. It is this quality that first attracted me to him. I feel safe and taken care of in his presence.
Yet it is my belief that we came to the D/s experimentation and crept further and further into the lifestyle via my leadership. I feel that it is something he has developed an interest in to please and satisfy me (I am grateful and fortunate to have a husband so willing to please me and meet my needs), but not something he naturally needs or desires on his own. This perception of mine leads to a lesser intensity level than what I experienced with “Joe” and most definitely what I experienced with “Headmaster.”
The other piece to the puzzle of my lack of respect in this context is the fact that Jay is my husband. It is difficult for me to switch the D/s dynamic on and off when we share every facet of our life together. Unlike with a playmate, I can’t just compartmentalize our relationship into just sex or just D/s. The fact that he is my husband also means I know his limits because I know him intimately in so many different ways. The fear factor and element of the uncertain is in general not high with him (and really, should it be? Should I actually fear my husband?) thus also lowering the level of respect I can extend.
We have had problems lately with playmates or potential playmates simply disappearing into thin air which has frustrated me. I currently have not heard from Headmaster in two weeks. I would have expected to have heard from him late last week or this past weekend, but I did not which leads me to suspect he may be yet another casualty.
Part of this is just the nature of the relationship we seek…something fun with no commitments or strings attached on anyone’s part. It is easy to have a little fun and simply move on to the next encounter without even bothering to tell us they have moved on. This is not what Jay and I are seeking, and perhaps we have not been careful enough in our selection of playmates or explained thoroughly enough what we are looking for in a playmate.
However, I also expressed to Jay that another reason I suspect this is happening is him. He encourages my seeking out dominant playmates but then often seems to become jealous or overly controlling once I find someone who catches my interest and we begin to communicate. Two dominant men and one submissive woman does seem like a recipe for strife to me. Is it possible to make it work?
Jay becomes upset when he perceives boundaries being over stepped, especially when he is not kept informed of what is being asked of me by the playmate (literally he desires that either said playmate or myself communicate with him at the exact same time we are communicating with each other keeping him abreast of all that is being required of me) or when permission is not asked for certain tasks… remember this recent post?
I am not suggesting that these are necessarily unreasonable things for him to require as I am his wife and he is allowing another man the privilege of playing with me, but it also does not escape my attention that by his very nature a dominant man is not accustomed to asking for permission for anything form anyone. The dichotomy of two dominants and one submissive is one I am uncertain we can bridge.
Submission is something I crave with a passion. I am 40 years old and realistically only going to be sexually attractive to men other than my husband for another 5 years or so give or take a few years. I had almost no sexual experience before I met Jay. I only began exploring my submissive desires about 5 years ago. They have only grown stronger with time. I fear if we don’t manage to make this work in a way that pleases both of us and meets each of our needs, I will never experience a D/s relationship at the deeper level I desire. Don’t misunderstand me…I am not subtly hinting I want a D/s relationship that does not include my husband. What I want is a more intense D/s relationship, and yes, I do want a playmate.
Jay’s response to all this…
He cannot and will not tolerate my lack of respect. He realized recently the game I have been playing…that I have been performing many things under the guise of it being for him when It was really more in an effort to please Headmaster. This little game shows a lack of respect for him and his role which will not be tolerated. I didn’t bother denying the truth, but did feel some respect growing for him that he was not blind to this.
He went on to say his issue has been with me all along and not the playmates we have found. His jealousy and need to control come in when he feels I am not showing him the proper respect as my primary dominant by keeping him fully informed of my communications and tasks form a secondary dominant and requesting permission to perform these tasks.
He further informed me my respect and desire to please will be with him first; that unless or until I demonstrate this respect we will cease all play with any others. If I wish to demonstrate this respect and enter back into this world I will prostrate myself before him and beg for the privilege.
I must say these words and the power and confidence displayed in them did increase my respect for him.
Can we work through everything to make this work for both of us? I am not certain at the moment. I very much hope so. We did end our conversation exchanging “I love you’s” and “we will work this out.”
I wish we knew other married couples in the lifestyle who could share with us their feelings and how they make it work. I believe if we can get it right our sex life and marriage will be greatly enriched for it, and so does he.
The questions I am left with…how do we proceed from here? Why can’t I give Jay my full respect without which I can never fully submit to him? How does he learn to be more dominant? Is it something one can even learn, or just something one naturally does or does not posses? Can D/s relationships within the context of a marriage work, and if so how? Where does each of us need to bend and grow if we truly desire to make it work? Are we asking too much of each other? Is it best that I simply suppress my submissive desires if I can’t submit to him and return us to a more conventional, vanilla sex life? Am I selfish if the prospect of doing that depresses me?
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
More Fun With Fetish Parties
This past Saturday Jay and I had the good fortune to attend another one of Mon Cherie's festish parties like this one we attended last month. We had been looking forward to it for several weeks. I will recount the majority of the evening for you in picture form.
We dropped the kids off with their grandparents and had a glorious 24 hours to ourselves.
The evening saw me starting out with this as my under attire...
Jay was keen to have me show off my nipple piercings, so I was required to wear this outfit to the party to accomplish just that task...
We happened to see hoola hoop girl(she can be seen in the post recounting last month's fetish party) out on the patio where she was watching a little show with other folks, and having some pictures taken. I mentioned to Jay that I wish I could take some photos with her. The next thing I know, he has made the request and she and I are taking some naughty, fun photos together. I have always been ambivalent about whether or not I would enjoy being dominated by a woman. While there was no real domination going on here beyond posing for photos, there was enough for me to get a good idea that I would very much enjoy being dominated by the right type of woman...my dear Gracie comes to mind whom I have had a crush on for a very long time.
Of course there were also shows for tantalizing and teasing other than me getting all giddy taking pictures with Hoola Hoop girl...
There was also plenty of dancing...
I must also sheepishly admit that I got quite a bit more intoxicated on this evening than I normally do. I normally have nothing more than a good buzz going both because these events are so much more fun to experience sober and because I am 40 years old and too damn old to deal with the after effects of too much drinking especially when I have children I have to get up and take care of the next day. I only had 2 drinks at the party, but they were apparently stronger than normal...combine that with the margaritas we had at dinner 3 or 4 hours before, and you have a recipe for me to be sitting on a sofa in the corner of the bar letting Jay take these pictures by the end of the evening...
Very naughty behavior even for this setting! The toy you see in my hand is my latest toy from my friend Shelly that I will be reviewing soon.
We also met some new friends and bought a really divine smelling massage candle.
Overall, it was a great evening. Our next planned outing is a Halloween fetish party the weekend before Halloween. We are looking forward to another great time!
We dropped the kids off with their grandparents and had a glorious 24 hours to ourselves.
The evening saw me starting out with this as my under attire...
Jay was keen to have me show off my nipple piercings, so I was required to wear this outfit to the party to accomplish just that task...
We happened to see hoola hoop girl(she can be seen in the post recounting last month's fetish party) out on the patio where she was watching a little show with other folks, and having some pictures taken. I mentioned to Jay that I wish I could take some photos with her. The next thing I know, he has made the request and she and I are taking some naughty, fun photos together. I have always been ambivalent about whether or not I would enjoy being dominated by a woman. While there was no real domination going on here beyond posing for photos, there was enough for me to get a good idea that I would very much enjoy being dominated by the right type of woman...my dear Gracie comes to mind whom I have had a crush on for a very long time.
Of course there were also shows for tantalizing and teasing other than me getting all giddy taking pictures with Hoola Hoop girl...
There was also plenty of dancing...
I must also sheepishly admit that I got quite a bit more intoxicated on this evening than I normally do. I normally have nothing more than a good buzz going both because these events are so much more fun to experience sober and because I am 40 years old and too damn old to deal with the after effects of too much drinking especially when I have children I have to get up and take care of the next day. I only had 2 drinks at the party, but they were apparently stronger than normal...combine that with the margaritas we had at dinner 3 or 4 hours before, and you have a recipe for me to be sitting on a sofa in the corner of the bar letting Jay take these pictures by the end of the evening...
Very naughty behavior even for this setting! The toy you see in my hand is my latest toy from my friend Shelly that I will be reviewing soon.
We also met some new friends and bought a really divine smelling massage candle.
Overall, it was a great evening. Our next planned outing is a Halloween fetish party the weekend before Halloween. We are looking forward to another great time!
Friday, September 17, 2010
Pierced
So I made mention in this post a couple of weeks ago that I had completed a milestone task for Daddy and HeadMaster(Headmaster encouraged it, but this task was really done for Daddy), and would no longer be required to write my mantra on my body. However, I never made mention of what that task was.
Well, my dearest reader, two weeks ago Sunday I got my nipples pierced. It is something Jay and I have discussed off and on literally for years. We both stopped just short of getting serious about it due to concerns about how it might affect the sensitivity of my nipples. My nipples are extremely sensitive and provide me a great amount of pleasure. The proper stimulation of them can leave me soaking wet and on the edge of orgasm. Losing that sensitivity would be devasting to us both. After extensive research on the subject, the consensus seems to be that in the majority of cases, done professionally and properly cared for, having one's nipples pierced tends to leave them at least as sensitive as they were pre-piercing and often times more sensitive.
Jay and I had been talking more and more seriously about piercing them over the last few weeks. Two weeks ago we were out shopping for birthday presents for my daughter (give me the "mother of the year award" for surviving a sleep over with 8 little girls last weekend to celebrate her 7th birthday!!) when Jay said to me that we were going to get my nipples pierced while we were out. I figured now was as good a time as any, and perhaps it was best to do it on the spur of the moment and not think about it too much.
After birthday shopping was complete, we headed over to the tattoo/piercing shop where I had my navel pierced some years ago. These folks are highly rated and come with many glowing recommendations so I felt good about having it done there.
I actually had my mantra written on my body under my clothing. I would like to say I was brave enough and Daddy was hard enough on me to have made me have them pierced with the mantra still on my body, but he showed me some mercy and allowed me to scrub it off with some wipes we had in the car before going into the shop.
We go in and speak to the guy at the front about what we want done. We had already called earlier to find out their hours and let them know we would probably be coming over today so he was kind of expecting us. Just my luck, the guy who is going to pierce my nipples is quite attractive. I was feeling self concious and nervous enough, now I not only have to bare my breasts to a good looking stranger, I have to let him touch them in a most intimate way.
He prepares everything and takes us to a back room for this rather private type of procedure. I sit in a chair not unlike a dentist's chair, and try not to watch as he readies his alcohol and needles on his tray while donning a pair of gloves.
I ask if I have to remove my shirt completely or just lift it up...silly question really as I know what the answer is. I take it off and toss it to Jay who is happily readying his cell phone to snap some pictures of this momentous occasion.
My handsome piercer swabs each nipple with alcohol,then sets about marking my nipples with a pen for even piercing while asking me if I am nervous. I am about to let you stick a needle through each of my very sensitive nipples...you tell me if you think I am nervous, Einstein...as Jeff Foxworthy would say, "Here's your sign!"
When the marking is done he takes my left nipple in a tong-like device, places the needle against my nipple and asks if I am ready. I answer that I am while taking a couple of deep breaths. Dearest reader, it HURTS LIKE HELL to have a needle go through your nipple!! I involunatarily spat out "Fuck!" as the needle went through, and then quickly followed it with,"Sorry," as if this handsome, young guy working in a tattoo parlor has never heard such foul language...LOL! He quickly shoved the barbell piercing through the hole he had just made and fastened the little silver ball to the end.
One nipple down, one more to go. I started to wish I was some sort of freak of nature and only had one nipple!! He moved to my right side as I again tried to ignore his preparations to pierce one of my most delicate and prized body parts. A word of caution for those thinking of piercing the nipples, the 2nd one hurts more than the first. Perhaps because your body knows what's coming, or I have also read that the effects of adrenaline and endorphins are often beginning to wear off by the 2nd nipple. No cursing with the 2nd piercing...just deep, guttural groaning.
Just like that...wham bam, thank you ma'am, my nipples were pierced. The first week was rough, I won't lie. I was very sore, and by about Wednesday and Thursday of that week was donwnright crabby due to the constant discomfort.
This week healing seems to be progressing nicely and the discomfort is considerably less, although my right nipple is still much more tender than my left. Jay was actually able to very gently roll my left nipple through his fingers during sex this morning. Yet a little while later when I accidentally scraped something against this same nipple, I nearly jumped through the ceiling with the sharp pain I am told full healing takes 6-8 weeks. I am hoping it comes sooner rather than later!! I look forward to replacing the barbell look with little silver hoops once the healing is complete.
I can't wait for the fun Daddy and I plan to have with this new adornment of my body.
Despite my fuck ups as a proper submissive this week, this is something I can be proud of!
Well, my dearest reader, two weeks ago Sunday I got my nipples pierced. It is something Jay and I have discussed off and on literally for years. We both stopped just short of getting serious about it due to concerns about how it might affect the sensitivity of my nipples. My nipples are extremely sensitive and provide me a great amount of pleasure. The proper stimulation of them can leave me soaking wet and on the edge of orgasm. Losing that sensitivity would be devasting to us both. After extensive research on the subject, the consensus seems to be that in the majority of cases, done professionally and properly cared for, having one's nipples pierced tends to leave them at least as sensitive as they were pre-piercing and often times more sensitive.
Jay and I had been talking more and more seriously about piercing them over the last few weeks. Two weeks ago we were out shopping for birthday presents for my daughter (give me the "mother of the year award" for surviving a sleep over with 8 little girls last weekend to celebrate her 7th birthday!!) when Jay said to me that we were going to get my nipples pierced while we were out. I figured now was as good a time as any, and perhaps it was best to do it on the spur of the moment and not think about it too much.
After birthday shopping was complete, we headed over to the tattoo/piercing shop where I had my navel pierced some years ago. These folks are highly rated and come with many glowing recommendations so I felt good about having it done there.
I actually had my mantra written on my body under my clothing. I would like to say I was brave enough and Daddy was hard enough on me to have made me have them pierced with the mantra still on my body, but he showed me some mercy and allowed me to scrub it off with some wipes we had in the car before going into the shop.
We go in and speak to the guy at the front about what we want done. We had already called earlier to find out their hours and let them know we would probably be coming over today so he was kind of expecting us. Just my luck, the guy who is going to pierce my nipples is quite attractive. I was feeling self concious and nervous enough, now I not only have to bare my breasts to a good looking stranger, I have to let him touch them in a most intimate way.
He prepares everything and takes us to a back room for this rather private type of procedure. I sit in a chair not unlike a dentist's chair, and try not to watch as he readies his alcohol and needles on his tray while donning a pair of gloves.
I ask if I have to remove my shirt completely or just lift it up...silly question really as I know what the answer is. I take it off and toss it to Jay who is happily readying his cell phone to snap some pictures of this momentous occasion.
My handsome piercer swabs each nipple with alcohol,then sets about marking my nipples with a pen for even piercing while asking me if I am nervous. I am about to let you stick a needle through each of my very sensitive nipples...you tell me if you think I am nervous, Einstein...as Jeff Foxworthy would say, "Here's your sign!"
When the marking is done he takes my left nipple in a tong-like device, places the needle against my nipple and asks if I am ready. I answer that I am while taking a couple of deep breaths. Dearest reader, it HURTS LIKE HELL to have a needle go through your nipple!! I involunatarily spat out "Fuck!" as the needle went through, and then quickly followed it with,"Sorry," as if this handsome, young guy working in a tattoo parlor has never heard such foul language...LOL! He quickly shoved the barbell piercing through the hole he had just made and fastened the little silver ball to the end.
One nipple down, one more to go. I started to wish I was some sort of freak of nature and only had one nipple!! He moved to my right side as I again tried to ignore his preparations to pierce one of my most delicate and prized body parts. A word of caution for those thinking of piercing the nipples, the 2nd one hurts more than the first. Perhaps because your body knows what's coming, or I have also read that the effects of adrenaline and endorphins are often beginning to wear off by the 2nd nipple. No cursing with the 2nd piercing...just deep, guttural groaning.
Just like that...wham bam, thank you ma'am, my nipples were pierced. The first week was rough, I won't lie. I was very sore, and by about Wednesday and Thursday of that week was donwnright crabby due to the constant discomfort.
This week healing seems to be progressing nicely and the discomfort is considerably less, although my right nipple is still much more tender than my left. Jay was actually able to very gently roll my left nipple through his fingers during sex this morning. Yet a little while later when I accidentally scraped something against this same nipple, I nearly jumped through the ceiling with the sharp pain I am told full healing takes 6-8 weeks. I am hoping it comes sooner rather than later!! I look forward to replacing the barbell look with little silver hoops once the healing is complete.
I can't wait for the fun Daddy and I plan to have with this new adornment of my body.
Despite my fuck ups as a proper submissive this week, this is something I can be proud of!
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Controlled
As you may recall, I really screwed up in my role as Daddy's and Headmaster's sub yesterday. You may recall that Headmaster instructed me to write his name on one of my favorite dildo's and carry it with me in my purse. After sneaking off to the restroom to take a few pictures of it nestled between my breasts, the head in my mouth just to prove I had it with me, the following conversation took place:
HM: "Are you back at your desk, cunt?"
Me: "Yes Sir"
HM: "Pull up your dress and sit bare bottomed"
Me: "Yes Sir."
Me: "I have done so, Sir."
HM: "Lay the dildo on your chair and sit so that the head is at your cunt hole and your clit is against the shaft"
Me: (incredulous) "Sir, please people come into my office constantly"
Me: "It would be next to impossible to do this without discovery Sir"
HM: "I am not unreasonable - you may pull your dress back down and then place the dildo as instructed"
HM: "Use the dress to obscure it"
Me: "Sir someone is likely to walk in as I retrieve it from my purse or position it"
Me: (becoming desperate) "the nature of my job is such that people come in and out of my office literally every few minutes."
Me: "Sir, I can expose myself to possible shame and ridicule with total strangers although with great difficulty, but I have to work with these people everyday, Sir"
(you can just hear the high, thin note of panic in my voice, can't you?)
HM: "I have been reasonable, you told me yesterday that you would do anything necessary to restore yourself..."
HM: "yet you argue with the simplest of tasks, even when I have provided you an opportunity to have it go unnoticed"
HM: "a true submissive finds creative ways to follow her orders, no reason why she cannot"
Me: "Sir, I don't know what to say."
Me: "I have had 2 people in my office since my last IM" (feeble last ditch effort to get out of performing this order)
HM: "That is the problem - I am not asking you to "say" anything, I am telling you to "do"
Me: "Give me a moment, Sir"
I began this conversation believing he could not possibly be serious. When I placed the dildo in my purse the night before,I expected to be sent to the restroom at some point during the day to place it inside myself. I never imagined I would be asked to insert it right there at my desk. I began this conversation totally set in my mind that what he asked was impossible for me due to external circumstances. Yet, I watched myself as I opened my desk drawer, took out my purse and placed it on the floor under my desk. I kept a careful watch as I pulled the dildo out of it's protective plastic bag. I looked about several times, making sure no one was approaching my office...thank God my back is to the wall, so I only have one angle of view to worry about...then I swiftly took the dildo from my purse, briefly lifted my dress, nestled the head of the dildo against my cunt hole, and hastily shoved my dress back down.
Me: "It is done, Sir."
Me: "You push me to the point of wanting to cry Sir"
Me: "You did it the other week with the whole clothing thing for Daddy, and you have done it again today Sir"
HM: "If I don't push you to the edge, how do you know where the edge is?"
And so I find myself controlled with nothing but words and the strong desire to please, to be petted, to be cooed over as a "good girl." Of course there is also the desire to avoid punishment requiring "tylenol before and after."
HM: "Are you back at your desk, cunt?"
Me: "Yes Sir"
HM: "Pull up your dress and sit bare bottomed"
Me: "Yes Sir."
Me: "I have done so, Sir."
HM: "Lay the dildo on your chair and sit so that the head is at your cunt hole and your clit is against the shaft"
Me: (incredulous) "Sir, please people come into my office constantly"
Me: "It would be next to impossible to do this without discovery Sir"
HM: "I am not unreasonable - you may pull your dress back down and then place the dildo as instructed"
HM: "Use the dress to obscure it"
Me: "Sir someone is likely to walk in as I retrieve it from my purse or position it"
Me: (becoming desperate) "the nature of my job is such that people come in and out of my office literally every few minutes."
Me: "Sir, I can expose myself to possible shame and ridicule with total strangers although with great difficulty, but I have to work with these people everyday, Sir"
(you can just hear the high, thin note of panic in my voice, can't you?)
HM: "I have been reasonable, you told me yesterday that you would do anything necessary to restore yourself..."
HM: "yet you argue with the simplest of tasks, even when I have provided you an opportunity to have it go unnoticed"
HM: "a true submissive finds creative ways to follow her orders, no reason why she cannot"
Me: "Sir, I don't know what to say."
Me: "I have had 2 people in my office since my last IM" (feeble last ditch effort to get out of performing this order)
HM: "That is the problem - I am not asking you to "say" anything, I am telling you to "do"
Me: "Give me a moment, Sir"
I began this conversation believing he could not possibly be serious. When I placed the dildo in my purse the night before,I expected to be sent to the restroom at some point during the day to place it inside myself. I never imagined I would be asked to insert it right there at my desk. I began this conversation totally set in my mind that what he asked was impossible for me due to external circumstances. Yet, I watched myself as I opened my desk drawer, took out my purse and placed it on the floor under my desk. I kept a careful watch as I pulled the dildo out of it's protective plastic bag. I looked about several times, making sure no one was approaching my office...thank God my back is to the wall, so I only have one angle of view to worry about...then I swiftly took the dildo from my purse, briefly lifted my dress, nestled the head of the dildo against my cunt hole, and hastily shoved my dress back down.
Me: "It is done, Sir."
Me: "You push me to the point of wanting to cry Sir"
Me: "You did it the other week with the whole clothing thing for Daddy, and you have done it again today Sir"
HM: "If I don't push you to the edge, how do you know where the edge is?"
And so I find myself controlled with nothing but words and the strong desire to please, to be petted, to be cooed over as a "good girl." Of course there is also the desire to avoid punishment requiring "tylenol before and after."
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
An Ashamed Sub Who Just Can't Seem to Get it Right
Today I did not perform as the shining example of a perfect sub either for HeadMaster or Daddy. I am disappointed and ashamed of my failure to learn. My bottom aches as a constant reminder of my failure due to Daddy's discipline this evening.
I began the afternoon by speaking with HeadMaster. We had not spoken for a little over a week due to his rigourous travel schedule. Over and over, I forgot to address him as Sir. He had to remind me, he had to prompt me, he had to wait for me to say it...MORE THAN ONCE. What kind of a sub can't even remember to address her dominant as "Sir?" He was sorely disappointed that I could forget such a simple requirement in such a short amount of time.
I was promised strict discipline for this forgetfulness and just general lazy inattention to detail at our next meeting requiring the need for tylenol before and after our session. That scares the shit out of me ladies and gentlemen...I can't stop thinking about it. However, kinky freak that I am, it also makes me wet.
The tasks I have been given to begin to make it up to him by showing my complete obedience are to wear my njoy anal plug to work tomorrow with a dress. I was also directed to pick out a dildo that most reminds me of his cock and write his name on it.."Sir." I am to carry it with me in my purse at all times. Each time I think of his cock I am to think of Sir. I am also to practice deep throating the dildo for at least 5 minutes each day. My goodness but this is such a difficult skill. Is it something you can learn? Are some women just naturally gifted at it? Is there some sort of trick to it? I must do some research on this subject in an endeavour to bring HeadMaster even more pleasure.
This evening when Daddy got home, I told him of my conversation with HeadMaster. He was glad to hear we had had a good session, and that I had been given tasks. However, he was very upset and disappointed that I had neither asked permission to perform these tasks for HeadMaster nor had he had any communication from HeadMaster letting him know the tasks he had given me. Daddy felt it had been made clear between the two of them that he enjoys HeadMaster giving me tasks, but as my ultimate Master must be kept informed of the tasks his sub is being given.
I became angry with Daddy for being so damn "picky," for raining on my parade and making everything so damn difficult. Basically attempting to do what I have come to recognize lately that I do often to him...topping from the bottom.
This time my attempt to top Daddy ended up with him pulling me out of bed where I had gone to stew, placing me on my knees in position 3 in front of a mirror and caning me with the scary big, black PVC cane that we rarely use. Daddy's punishment left me sweating, and crying out with the blinding pain until I realized our son might hear us, and used all my strength to hold in the screams that wanted to escape my lips.
Daddy questioned me as he dealt the blows of the cane.
"What did you do wrong today?"
"I don't know, Daddy" I blubbered through the pain even though I clearly did know.
"What...did...you...do...wrong...today?" Daddy asked again through clenched teeth as the cane met my vulnerable flesh.
"I did not ask you about my tasks Sir," I panted
"Thats right. Now why do you need to ask if you can perform these tasks?"
"Because you are my Daddy," I responded.
"And who is your Master, slut?"
"You are Daddy, you are," I tearfully replied
"Now you will send HeadMaster a message telling him of your transgression today, and explaining that you must have permission and I must be informed of any tasks you are given. You will tell him of the shame of this session."
"Yes Sir," I agreed
He rubbed the cane along the bottom of my foot and I was in terror. I knew I could not take that cane on the bottom of my foot after my experience with HeadMaster and the much smaller cane on my foot a few weeks earlier. I shivered in fear as I watched him in the mirror.
Finally he said, "You may get up and get dressed now. What are you going to do as soon as you get dressed?" he probed.
"Send an email to HeadMaster Daddy," I dutifully replied.
"That's a good girl," he praised.
I did just as I was directed.
Later in the evening Daddy hugged me, and I whispered against the side of his scratchy, manly face, "Thank you for reminding me who I am Daddy."
"You're welcome sweetheart," he responded tenderly as he kissed me.
I don't know but I think my bottom is gonna hurt for quite a few days, what do you think? With the paddle, it leaves bruises, but they dont usually hurt that much as I sit. The welts from the cane are painful and I fear I am going to be reminded of my misdeeds all day long tomorrow....
The next day...
Ah yes, I was right. My ass really smarted the next day. I have seen it as marked if not more so than this, but it has never been quite so tender. When I went for a run this morning, it hurt. When I stood up, it hurt. When I sat down, it hurt. Something about that cane packs a nasty punch unlike any other implement we have used. I don't soon wish to meet it again.
I began the afternoon by speaking with HeadMaster. We had not spoken for a little over a week due to his rigourous travel schedule. Over and over, I forgot to address him as Sir. He had to remind me, he had to prompt me, he had to wait for me to say it...MORE THAN ONCE. What kind of a sub can't even remember to address her dominant as "Sir?" He was sorely disappointed that I could forget such a simple requirement in such a short amount of time.
I was promised strict discipline for this forgetfulness and just general lazy inattention to detail at our next meeting requiring the need for tylenol before and after our session. That scares the shit out of me ladies and gentlemen...I can't stop thinking about it. However, kinky freak that I am, it also makes me wet.
The tasks I have been given to begin to make it up to him by showing my complete obedience are to wear my njoy anal plug to work tomorrow with a dress. I was also directed to pick out a dildo that most reminds me of his cock and write his name on it.."Sir." I am to carry it with me in my purse at all times. Each time I think of his cock I am to think of Sir. I am also to practice deep throating the dildo for at least 5 minutes each day. My goodness but this is such a difficult skill. Is it something you can learn? Are some women just naturally gifted at it? Is there some sort of trick to it? I must do some research on this subject in an endeavour to bring HeadMaster even more pleasure.
This evening when Daddy got home, I told him of my conversation with HeadMaster. He was glad to hear we had had a good session, and that I had been given tasks. However, he was very upset and disappointed that I had neither asked permission to perform these tasks for HeadMaster nor had he had any communication from HeadMaster letting him know the tasks he had given me. Daddy felt it had been made clear between the two of them that he enjoys HeadMaster giving me tasks, but as my ultimate Master must be kept informed of the tasks his sub is being given.
I became angry with Daddy for being so damn "picky," for raining on my parade and making everything so damn difficult. Basically attempting to do what I have come to recognize lately that I do often to him...topping from the bottom.
This time my attempt to top Daddy ended up with him pulling me out of bed where I had gone to stew, placing me on my knees in position 3 in front of a mirror and caning me with the scary big, black PVC cane that we rarely use. Daddy's punishment left me sweating, and crying out with the blinding pain until I realized our son might hear us, and used all my strength to hold in the screams that wanted to escape my lips.
Daddy questioned me as he dealt the blows of the cane.
"What did you do wrong today?"
"I don't know, Daddy" I blubbered through the pain even though I clearly did know.
"What...did...you...do...wrong...today?" Daddy asked again through clenched teeth as the cane met my vulnerable flesh.
"I did not ask you about my tasks Sir," I panted
"Thats right. Now why do you need to ask if you can perform these tasks?"
"Because you are my Daddy," I responded.
"And who is your Master, slut?"
"You are Daddy, you are," I tearfully replied
"Now you will send HeadMaster a message telling him of your transgression today, and explaining that you must have permission and I must be informed of any tasks you are given. You will tell him of the shame of this session."
"Yes Sir," I agreed
He rubbed the cane along the bottom of my foot and I was in terror. I knew I could not take that cane on the bottom of my foot after my experience with HeadMaster and the much smaller cane on my foot a few weeks earlier. I shivered in fear as I watched him in the mirror.
Finally he said, "You may get up and get dressed now. What are you going to do as soon as you get dressed?" he probed.
"Send an email to HeadMaster Daddy," I dutifully replied.
"That's a good girl," he praised.
I did just as I was directed.
Later in the evening Daddy hugged me, and I whispered against the side of his scratchy, manly face, "Thank you for reminding me who I am Daddy."
"You're welcome sweetheart," he responded tenderly as he kissed me.
I don't know but I think my bottom is gonna hurt for quite a few days, what do you think? With the paddle, it leaves bruises, but they dont usually hurt that much as I sit. The welts from the cane are painful and I fear I am going to be reminded of my misdeeds all day long tomorrow....
The next day...
Ah yes, I was right. My ass really smarted the next day. I have seen it as marked if not more so than this, but it has never been quite so tender. When I went for a run this morning, it hurt. When I stood up, it hurt. When I sat down, it hurt. Something about that cane packs a nasty punch unlike any other implement we have used. I don't soon wish to meet it again.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Wet
Last week I had a conversation with HeadMaster as he awaited his colleagues in a hotel lobby. The conversation led me to greater and greater arousal. My cunt responded with ever increasing wetness. I was directed to lift my skirt such that my ass and pussy were in contact with the seat, then rub my cunt against the seat. My arousal climbed as HeadMaster described the bulge in his suit pants for me, giving me the further imagery of his cock snaking out the bottom of his boxers, beginning to form a wet spot on his pants with a heavy flow of precum. We began to discuss further details that aroused me, and I was directed not to stop rocking my hips and rubbing my cunt against my seat.
HeadMaster indicated that he may have to step in to the men's room to relieve himself. I asked if I might touch my wet, aching cunt. I was told that I could not. I was only allowed to rub against the seat, no touching, no cumming. HeadMaster's colleagues soon arrived and I was left in this state. I couldn't think, I couldn't work, all I could feel was the throbbing in my cunt begging me to touch it. It took me nearly 30 minutes to compose myself, and I was distracted all the rest of the day by my unrealized orgasm.
I snapped a picture of my chair at work after this conversation with HeadMaster:
HeadMaster indicated that he may have to step in to the men's room to relieve himself. I asked if I might touch my wet, aching cunt. I was told that I could not. I was only allowed to rub against the seat, no touching, no cumming. HeadMaster's colleagues soon arrived and I was left in this state. I couldn't think, I couldn't work, all I could feel was the throbbing in my cunt begging me to touch it. It took me nearly 30 minutes to compose myself, and I was distracted all the rest of the day by my unrealized orgasm.
I snapped a picture of my chair at work after this conversation with HeadMaster:
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
My Mantra
I am struggling with my training as a proper submissive already. I test my 2nd Dom at times, but more so I test Daddy. Headmaster makes it very clear to me that any disobedience will be swiftly corrected. I had been directed to wear my Njoy anal plug to work last Monday, and chose not to as I had been made to wear my rosebud all day at work the previous Friday, and simply did not feel like doing it all over again on Monday. I could not lie to Headmaster when he inquired if I had followed directions. As my punishment I wore paperclips tightly affixed to my nipples all day, and was ordered to take a ruler into the restroom and spank each breast 10 times for my transgression. Slut that I am, this made me slippery wet.
I struggle much harder with Daddy which is, of course, why I am in training. I had refused a direction of his early in the week arguing about it's impracticality and trying to bargain with him. It only served to cause tension and frustration between us until I followed the direction the next day. It did turn out to be an impractical sort of order, but the point was I had obeyed.
This very same day, Daddy informed me we would be going out to obtain new nipple clamps for me, and I was to dress only in a sheer piece of lingerie. Again, I argued and refused. I was terrified he would make me go into public in nothing but a sheer nightgown. I couldn't, I WOULDN'T do that. The notion of men looking me up and down and women judging and whispering made my palms sweaty.
At this point Headmaster stepped in. We had a conversation that has been a turning point in my training. He knows who I am, he knows I long to submit no matter what the request. One of the most illuminating portions of the conversation occured when he encouraged me to use the same strength I had drawn on to bear his breast torture and the cane, to fulfill Daddy's request and go out with him in whatever attire he deemed fit. It had not really occured to me that bearing humuliating, psychologically difficult tasks required that I draw from the same place that allowed me to bear physical punishment and pain. Headmaster went on to assure me he would not give up on me as a wonderful sub, and I should not give up on myself. He inquired if I was now ready to submit to Daddy's request. I agreed that I was and mentally began to prepare myself for whatever Daddy required of me.
While still humuliating, Daddy's request was not quite as bad as I had feared. I was directed to wear a sheer black blouse, no bra of course, but thankfully it had pockets on each side which covered most of my breasts, a very short mini skirt which exposed the bottom of my bare ass cheeks when I moved in just the right way, and 3" black patent leather heels.
To reinforce my lesson, I was taken from bed that morning, ordered to kneel in position 3 in front of a mirror, and had the cane painfully applied to my ass as Daddy reminded me this training was for his pleasure. I was asked more than once, "Who is your master, slut?"
"You are, Daddy," I replied each time.
"Are you going to follow Daddy's directions?" he probed
"Yes Sir. Yes, Daddy," I grunted as the cane met the flesh of my naked ass.
Again I was slippery wet after my punishment.
When the evening came, I complied like a perfect slut with no questions or complaints. Daddy took me to one toy shop in search of the clamps he sought. I was relieved that it was a very small shop and no one was there. Sadly, however they did not have the clamps he sought. Daddy did have me bend over and let him swat me with a flogger they had there which I found throughly embarrassing as the clerk there couldn't help but hear it even if he did not see it in the small store.
We also needed to go by the liquor store that evening for my special pineapple flavored drinks we cannot find at the grocery store. It being Saturday and this being the Bible Belt South where alcohol is not sold on Sundays, we had to go that evening if I wanted my drinks. So Daddy took me to the liquor store in my outfit. I was both nervous and aroused to be doing just as Daddy directed me. I kept my eyes down as we were in the store, unable to face any gawking, judgemental or lacivious stares. When we had made our purchase, Daddy took me back to the car, had me unbutton my blouse, lean against the car and sqeezed my breasts for his pleasure.
We then continued on to the second sex toy shop where he hoped to find the nipple clamps he sought. I was much more nervous about this one as it was much bigger and always had a lot of customers. As expected, the store was packed with people. Daddy had directed me not to leave his side, not to fiddle with my skirt attempting to pull it down and not to cross my arms in an attempt to shield my breasts. I did as I was told, feeling both shamed and aroused. Curiosity made me look around a bit more in the store. And sure enough, I did see a woman or two looking me up and down disapprovingly. After that, I kept my eyes down, and stayed on Daddy's heels as directed. This store also did not have the nipple clamps he sought, but he led me around the store a big longer, looking at dirty movies, and other items. When we left Daddy praised me, telling me how well I had done and how proud he and Headmaster were of me.
During my conversation with Headmaster earlier in the week I was given a mantra to write on my body each day and email to him as he felt I needed this daily reinformcement of who I am and what my place is. I am to do this each day until I have completed a milestone sort of task which he and Daddy both have charged me with. So far I have written this message on my body and sent to him for 6 days. However as I write this post, I have completed the task with which I was charged and will no longer be required to write my mantra each day unless Headmaster or Daddy change their minds on me.
I struggle much harder with Daddy which is, of course, why I am in training. I had refused a direction of his early in the week arguing about it's impracticality and trying to bargain with him. It only served to cause tension and frustration between us until I followed the direction the next day. It did turn out to be an impractical sort of order, but the point was I had obeyed.
This very same day, Daddy informed me we would be going out to obtain new nipple clamps for me, and I was to dress only in a sheer piece of lingerie. Again, I argued and refused. I was terrified he would make me go into public in nothing but a sheer nightgown. I couldn't, I WOULDN'T do that. The notion of men looking me up and down and women judging and whispering made my palms sweaty.
At this point Headmaster stepped in. We had a conversation that has been a turning point in my training. He knows who I am, he knows I long to submit no matter what the request. One of the most illuminating portions of the conversation occured when he encouraged me to use the same strength I had drawn on to bear his breast torture and the cane, to fulfill Daddy's request and go out with him in whatever attire he deemed fit. It had not really occured to me that bearing humuliating, psychologically difficult tasks required that I draw from the same place that allowed me to bear physical punishment and pain. Headmaster went on to assure me he would not give up on me as a wonderful sub, and I should not give up on myself. He inquired if I was now ready to submit to Daddy's request. I agreed that I was and mentally began to prepare myself for whatever Daddy required of me.
While still humuliating, Daddy's request was not quite as bad as I had feared. I was directed to wear a sheer black blouse, no bra of course, but thankfully it had pockets on each side which covered most of my breasts, a very short mini skirt which exposed the bottom of my bare ass cheeks when I moved in just the right way, and 3" black patent leather heels.
To reinforce my lesson, I was taken from bed that morning, ordered to kneel in position 3 in front of a mirror, and had the cane painfully applied to my ass as Daddy reminded me this training was for his pleasure. I was asked more than once, "Who is your master, slut?"
"You are, Daddy," I replied each time.
"Are you going to follow Daddy's directions?" he probed
"Yes Sir. Yes, Daddy," I grunted as the cane met the flesh of my naked ass.
Again I was slippery wet after my punishment.
When the evening came, I complied like a perfect slut with no questions or complaints. Daddy took me to one toy shop in search of the clamps he sought. I was relieved that it was a very small shop and no one was there. Sadly, however they did not have the clamps he sought. Daddy did have me bend over and let him swat me with a flogger they had there which I found throughly embarrassing as the clerk there couldn't help but hear it even if he did not see it in the small store.
We also needed to go by the liquor store that evening for my special pineapple flavored drinks we cannot find at the grocery store. It being Saturday and this being the Bible Belt South where alcohol is not sold on Sundays, we had to go that evening if I wanted my drinks. So Daddy took me to the liquor store in my outfit. I was both nervous and aroused to be doing just as Daddy directed me. I kept my eyes down as we were in the store, unable to face any gawking, judgemental or lacivious stares. When we had made our purchase, Daddy took me back to the car, had me unbutton my blouse, lean against the car and sqeezed my breasts for his pleasure.
We then continued on to the second sex toy shop where he hoped to find the nipple clamps he sought. I was much more nervous about this one as it was much bigger and always had a lot of customers. As expected, the store was packed with people. Daddy had directed me not to leave his side, not to fiddle with my skirt attempting to pull it down and not to cross my arms in an attempt to shield my breasts. I did as I was told, feeling both shamed and aroused. Curiosity made me look around a bit more in the store. And sure enough, I did see a woman or two looking me up and down disapprovingly. After that, I kept my eyes down, and stayed on Daddy's heels as directed. This store also did not have the nipple clamps he sought, but he led me around the store a big longer, looking at dirty movies, and other items. When we left Daddy praised me, telling me how well I had done and how proud he and Headmaster were of me.
During my conversation with Headmaster earlier in the week I was given a mantra to write on my body each day and email to him as he felt I needed this daily reinformcement of who I am and what my place is. I am to do this each day until I have completed a milestone sort of task which he and Daddy both have charged me with. So far I have written this message on my body and sent to him for 6 days. However as I write this post, I have completed the task with which I was charged and will no longer be required to write my mantra each day unless Headmaster or Daddy change their minds on me.
Monday, September 6, 2010
In Traning, Conclusion
I was then directed to come to Headmaster as he sat in his chair, assume position 2 and suck his very hard cock. I did this with joy, trying my best to take his full length down my throat. When I was given permission to use my hands, I twisted up and down as I sucked the head, my glistening cunt spread wide and throbbing.
Headmaster then directed me back to the ottoman, stood over me and twirled the flogger over my body as adrenaline coursed through me in anticipation of one of my favorite toys. I moaned as he struck my breasts, belly and inner thighs with the flogger. I must have made my enjoyment too obvious for he soon placed the handle of the flogger in my mouth commanding me not to drop it and moved on to the dreaded cane.
The cane is a thin stick which looks harmless enough but packs an awful stinging bite. Headmaster applied the cane to my inner thighs as I cried out my pain.
I was told repeatedly to be quiet “it won’t make it an easier,” yet this was the one order I had the most trouble following. When the pain is nearly more than I can bear, I have to release it from my body somehow. That somehow for me is crying out. I think bearing his discipline in silence will be one of my hardest lessons to learn from my Headmaster.
Headmaster lifted my leg, unbuckled and removed one sandaled heel. I thought perhaps he would suck my toes, but I was not at all prepared for his true purpose.
The cane met the bottom of my foot with blinding pain. I cried out and instinctively jerked my foot away from him, my body covered in a sheen of sweat.
He leaned over me and snarled, “Don’t pull away from me. Don’t you EVER pull away from me, do you understand?”
I nodded that I did, and God... help... me... he moved back to my foot. I considered using my safe word at this point. I felt it forming on my lips, hoped that Jay might say it for me, but he watched in silence. I couldn’t bring myself to say it as it seemed somehow a badge of failure to me; and so I endured two more licks on the bottom of the foot by the cane, each time disobeying by crying out loudly and pulling my foot away.
Headmaster then had me stand and directed me to remove my other heel. I unbuckled the shoe and tossed it off my foot. I was immediately grabbed by the hair my head pulled down to his seated level,
“Now did that seem appropriate to just toss your shoe like that? That’s something an obstinate child would do. Are you a child?”
“No Sir. I’m sorry Sir.” I managed.
He then sent me to retrieve a condom from the bag. I brought it to him and began to open the wrapper. Again I had done the wrong thing.
“Did I tell you to open it?”
“No Sir,” came my humble reply.
In time he told me to open it, and then place it on him.
I was directed to turn around and sit on his cock. I instinctively began to rock back and forth and was ordered to be still and just sit on his cock. When I complied, I was told I could rock slowly back and forth. I began to move slowly on his cock enjoying the sensations inside my cunt as Daddy approached me and placed his cock in my mouth. I sucked Daddy’s hardness while I bounced on Headmaster’s cock. What a lucky girl I was.
When Daddy was satisfied, he sat back to watch me bouncing harder and harder on Headmaster’s cock. When I was close again Headmaster pulled me backwards by my leash, my collar choking me as I leaned back against him. Thankfully I was given permission to cum because I could no longer control my arousal and was flying towards an unstoppable orgasm.
My strangled gasps filled the air of the hotel room as I came. When it was finished, I leaned forward onto the ottoman, panting and sweating, his cock still inside me as I tried to regain my senses.
He struck me along the back and ass with the cane, this time eliciting deliciously pleasurable sensations.
I began to bounce up and down on his cock harder and harder until my nipples were in agony. My bouncing came to a stop only to have him thrust hard from underneath me as I cried out, “my tits, Oh God my tits”; again an instance where my safe word was needed yet I did not want to fail in using it.
I was able to push past the pain and began to thrust violently on his cock again until my thighs were burning and I was gasping for air as hard as I do after a 4 or 5mile run.
I eventually dismounted his cock and stood only to be pulled down to his level by my hair.
“We have learned some lessons today, haven’t we?” he questioned.
“You were brought here to learn your place and learn to be more obedient to Daddy."
"We all know that you like to test limits. The lessons learned here are to be carried beyond this room otherwise I am wasting my time. Do you want me to waste my time?”
“No Sir,” I replied.
“Good girl. Now repeat to me what I have said and what you have learned here today.”
“That I am to take the lessons here and apply them in the world outside this room. That I am to learn to be more obedient to Daddy.”
“Good girl,” he crooned.
I was then sent on my hands and knees to retrieve a warm wash cloth and carry it back in my mouth. I was then directed to remove his condom full of his seed and clean his cock and balls with the cloth. I was made to repeat the whole process for Daddy minus the removal of a condom.
I was then sent to retrieve the dildo still stuck on the mirror. I couldn’t bring myself to put it in my mouth and attempted to crawl with it in my hand.
“Is that how you are to bring things to me?” he asked.
“No Sir,” I responded as I gripped it in my mouth.
When I returned to kneel before him my bottom was caned as he chided, “I gave you two examples of how you are to bring things to me and you made a conscious choice not to do it, didn’t you?”
“Yes Sir. I’m sorry Sir. I’ll do better Sir,” I responded as the cane dealt its discipline.
I was then sent to fetch various other things with my mouth and generally tidy up the room.
I then dressed him as I knelt before him... I placed his underwear on him which I had retrived with my mouth, his shorts, and his belt.
By far the worst thing I was made to retrieve with my mouth were his shoes and socks. I hesitated over them, horrified at the notion of putting them in my mouth, but too spent to endure much more punishment so I complied and carried each sock and each shoe to him in my mouth. When I had fully dressed him, I placed each sock and shoe on his foot and tied them.
He then sent me to retrieve my dress at which Jay stopped him saying he was not done with me and wanted me naked.
Headmaster again sternly reminded me this was just the first of our lessons. I was to take what I learned beyond just today’s session. Future sessions would increase in intensity, most especially in the discipline dealt for disobedience.
"Yes Sir,” I replied humbly.
After he and Jay shook hands, he left and Jay and I were alone in the room. My dearest Jay laid me back on the bed and sunk his hard cock into me. We fucked with our own particular rhythm, his cock rubbing just the right places inside me until he came with a moan, warm, wet and familiar inside me.
Jay and I have embarked on a new world of sex and discipline which is exciting to each of us. Much has happened in the week since this particular session which I am eager to share with you in upcoming posts.
Headmaster then directed me back to the ottoman, stood over me and twirled the flogger over my body as adrenaline coursed through me in anticipation of one of my favorite toys. I moaned as he struck my breasts, belly and inner thighs with the flogger. I must have made my enjoyment too obvious for he soon placed the handle of the flogger in my mouth commanding me not to drop it and moved on to the dreaded cane.
The cane is a thin stick which looks harmless enough but packs an awful stinging bite. Headmaster applied the cane to my inner thighs as I cried out my pain.
I was told repeatedly to be quiet “it won’t make it an easier,” yet this was the one order I had the most trouble following. When the pain is nearly more than I can bear, I have to release it from my body somehow. That somehow for me is crying out. I think bearing his discipline in silence will be one of my hardest lessons to learn from my Headmaster.
Headmaster lifted my leg, unbuckled and removed one sandaled heel. I thought perhaps he would suck my toes, but I was not at all prepared for his true purpose.
The cane met the bottom of my foot with blinding pain. I cried out and instinctively jerked my foot away from him, my body covered in a sheen of sweat.
He leaned over me and snarled, “Don’t pull away from me. Don’t you EVER pull away from me, do you understand?”
I nodded that I did, and God... help... me... he moved back to my foot. I considered using my safe word at this point. I felt it forming on my lips, hoped that Jay might say it for me, but he watched in silence. I couldn’t bring myself to say it as it seemed somehow a badge of failure to me; and so I endured two more licks on the bottom of the foot by the cane, each time disobeying by crying out loudly and pulling my foot away.
Headmaster then had me stand and directed me to remove my other heel. I unbuckled the shoe and tossed it off my foot. I was immediately grabbed by the hair my head pulled down to his seated level,
“Now did that seem appropriate to just toss your shoe like that? That’s something an obstinate child would do. Are you a child?”
“No Sir. I’m sorry Sir.” I managed.
He then sent me to retrieve a condom from the bag. I brought it to him and began to open the wrapper. Again I had done the wrong thing.
“Did I tell you to open it?”
“No Sir,” came my humble reply.
In time he told me to open it, and then place it on him.
I was directed to turn around and sit on his cock. I instinctively began to rock back and forth and was ordered to be still and just sit on his cock. When I complied, I was told I could rock slowly back and forth. I began to move slowly on his cock enjoying the sensations inside my cunt as Daddy approached me and placed his cock in my mouth. I sucked Daddy’s hardness while I bounced on Headmaster’s cock. What a lucky girl I was.
When Daddy was satisfied, he sat back to watch me bouncing harder and harder on Headmaster’s cock. When I was close again Headmaster pulled me backwards by my leash, my collar choking me as I leaned back against him. Thankfully I was given permission to cum because I could no longer control my arousal and was flying towards an unstoppable orgasm.
My strangled gasps filled the air of the hotel room as I came. When it was finished, I leaned forward onto the ottoman, panting and sweating, his cock still inside me as I tried to regain my senses.
He struck me along the back and ass with the cane, this time eliciting deliciously pleasurable sensations.
I began to bounce up and down on his cock harder and harder until my nipples were in agony. My bouncing came to a stop only to have him thrust hard from underneath me as I cried out, “my tits, Oh God my tits”; again an instance where my safe word was needed yet I did not want to fail in using it.
I was able to push past the pain and began to thrust violently on his cock again until my thighs were burning and I was gasping for air as hard as I do after a 4 or 5mile run.
I eventually dismounted his cock and stood only to be pulled down to his level by my hair.
“We have learned some lessons today, haven’t we?” he questioned.
“You were brought here to learn your place and learn to be more obedient to Daddy."
"We all know that you like to test limits. The lessons learned here are to be carried beyond this room otherwise I am wasting my time. Do you want me to waste my time?”
“No Sir,” I replied.
“Good girl. Now repeat to me what I have said and what you have learned here today.”
“That I am to take the lessons here and apply them in the world outside this room. That I am to learn to be more obedient to Daddy.”
“Good girl,” he crooned.
I was then sent on my hands and knees to retrieve a warm wash cloth and carry it back in my mouth. I was then directed to remove his condom full of his seed and clean his cock and balls with the cloth. I was made to repeat the whole process for Daddy minus the removal of a condom.
I was then sent to retrieve the dildo still stuck on the mirror. I couldn’t bring myself to put it in my mouth and attempted to crawl with it in my hand.
“Is that how you are to bring things to me?” he asked.
“No Sir,” I responded as I gripped it in my mouth.
When I returned to kneel before him my bottom was caned as he chided, “I gave you two examples of how you are to bring things to me and you made a conscious choice not to do it, didn’t you?”
“Yes Sir. I’m sorry Sir. I’ll do better Sir,” I responded as the cane dealt its discipline.
I was then sent to fetch various other things with my mouth and generally tidy up the room.
I then dressed him as I knelt before him... I placed his underwear on him which I had retrived with my mouth, his shorts, and his belt.
By far the worst thing I was made to retrieve with my mouth were his shoes and socks. I hesitated over them, horrified at the notion of putting them in my mouth, but too spent to endure much more punishment so I complied and carried each sock and each shoe to him in my mouth. When I had fully dressed him, I placed each sock and shoe on his foot and tied them.
He then sent me to retrieve my dress at which Jay stopped him saying he was not done with me and wanted me naked.
Headmaster again sternly reminded me this was just the first of our lessons. I was to take what I learned beyond just today’s session. Future sessions would increase in intensity, most especially in the discipline dealt for disobedience.
"Yes Sir,” I replied humbly.
After he and Jay shook hands, he left and Jay and I were alone in the room. My dearest Jay laid me back on the bed and sunk his hard cock into me. We fucked with our own particular rhythm, his cock rubbing just the right places inside me until he came with a moan, warm, wet and familiar inside me.
Jay and I have embarked on a new world of sex and discipline which is exciting to each of us. Much has happened in the week since this particular session which I am eager to share with you in upcoming posts.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
In Training, Pt. 1
Jay and I had a most illuminating and erotic experience last Sunday. I have been conversing with a new friend for about a month now. We have been getting to know each other in general, and most specifically discussing my desire for a 2nd dominant.
Last Sunday Jay and I made the decision to meet with him. The parameters were set that if there seemed to be some sort of chemistry, he would dispense with the small talk and move forward quickly with what we all desired. We were to meet at a local hotel which also housed a lounge where we might have drinks and chat.
Unfortunately, the lounge was not available on a Sunday afternoon so it was agreed we would simply meet at the hotel and find a quiet place to chat.
Jay informed me that we had to make a little side stop on the way over to our meeting which turned out to be a trip to the mall where I was to pick out a pair of panties to wear to our meeting.
When we arrived at the hotel I was nervous as a cat. We walked in and glanced around the lobby to see our guest had not yet arrived, so we sat down to wait which made it even worse. He arrived not five minutes later and my heart began to pound.
We exchanged pleasantries and sought out a quiet place on the other side of the hotel to chat. We sat with Jay to my right and our new friend directly across from me.
“I understand you made a stop on your way here today,” he began.
I nodded my head in assent.
“And what did you make the stop for?” he prodded.
“A pair of panties,” I answer shyly.
“Why don’t you show me,” he replied.
I lifted my dress enough to flash him the panties.
“Go ahead and stand up and take them off and place them on the table here,” he directed.
I hesitated for a moment, glanced around to see the area was deserted, stood up, removed the panties and tossed them on the table.
“Fold them up neatly and place them on the table,” he directed in a measured tone.
I retrieved the panties from the table, folded them awkwardly, feeling silly and embarrassed and placed them back on the table.
“Do you have your rosebud in?” he queried.
I nodded that I did.
“Stand up, bend over the chair, and show me,” he replied.
I did exactly as I was told, lifting my dress to show him my pink rosebud glimmering from my asshole.
I sat back down, twirling my sunglasses nervously in one hand until I caught him staring from me to the twirling hand. I immediately stilled my hand with nothing but a look.
We began to discuss our mutual desire to check in and adjourn to a room.
“Do you understand why you have been brought here today” he asked.
“Yes Sir,” I replied.
“And why is that?” he countered.
“For training, Sir,” I responded.
“That’s right. And do you understand that you will be pushed and limits will be tested?”
“Yes Sir”
“Are you ready for that?”
“Yes Sir,” I responded as my pussy moistened and a tingle of fear began to run through me.
As we reached the hall on which our room was located, our new friend which I shall refer to as Sir Headmaster going forward, turned to me and said, “You will remove your dress here in the hall.”
The hall was deserted but I could hear people moving about somewhere nearby. I looked at him nervously, unsure what to do.
“I can hear people around the corner,” I protested weakly.
“Then we’d better move quickly, hadn’t we?” Headmaster replied in an even tone.
“Yes Sir,” I responded as I quickly pulled my dress over my head leaving me entirely naked save for my heels.
I scurried behind him desperate for the privacy of the closed hotel room door.
When we entered the room, Daddy ordered me to my knees and affixed my collar around my neck.
Headmaster approached me and informed me he would be teaching me my basic positions which I would be expected to memorize and move into quickly with only the utterance of the number by him. He further clarified I was to use the standard safe words of “yellow” and “red” with which he understood I was familiar. He suggested I let Daddy call my safe words for me, but would allow me to use them as well during this first session.
Position one required me to stand, hands behind my head, chest out, legs spread. He circled me as I stood in this position explaining that this position allowed him to view and inspect nearly all of my body. My pussy grew even wetter as he looked me over as if I was a piece of livestock of which he was considering purchase.
Position two required me to keep my legs straight and lean forward at a 90 degree angle, legs still spread, hands on the back of my head. From this position I was told he could inspect areas he could not see in position one such as my pussy and ass. He could make sure I was clean and properly shaven he told me as he spread my ass cheeks and ran his finger over my dripping cunt. He returned me to position one and slowly inserted his fingers in my mouth as I sucked my own wetness from them.
Position three required me to kneel on the ground hands behind my head, chest pushed out, while position four was a position of worship which placed my face on the floor arms outstretched in front of my body.
From here on out he would call out numbers and I would comply with the position. A time or two I stumbled on what to do with my hands in position one until my head was jerked down by the hair to his seated position and he quietly said to me in his measured tone, “The hands go in the same place in each position. Why is this so hard for you? It’s not that difficult, is it?”
“No Sir,” I replied.
My leash was attached to my collar, I was ordered on all fours and made to crawl along the floor as he led me about the room, the leash taut enough to cause the collar to choke me.
When this task was completed I was directed to remove his shoes and socks. I have a thing about feet. I am not fond of touching them with the exception of my own and my daughter’s cute little feet, so I had a little trouble with the notion of removing his socks. I did remove them and immediately tossed them inside out onto his shoes. It was an act of laziness I was not going to get away with. I was immediately reprimanded and told to fold the socks neatly over his shoes right side out. I squeamishly turned them right side out and laid them neatly over the shoes as directed, my need to please outweighing my aversion to touching his socks.
He then removed his belt and I watched nervously knowing what was coming next. I was led to the bed and made to bend over it, ass exposed. I was relieved to find the strokes of the belt were rather mild and easily bearable.
I was then ordered back down on my knees and made to remove his shorts. I noted the bulge of his cock in his underwear and wondered when I would have the pleasure of seeing it. I was led about the room on all fours a few more times before being told to remove his underwear.
His cock sprang forth, large, hard and oozing with precum. He brought it to my face and I reached out to take it in my mouth only to be slapped in the face and reminded I had not been given permission to take him in my mouth. He slapped his cock in my face quite hard a few times before allowing me to take him in my mouth. I sucked and tasted as my head moved up and down.
When he pulled out of my mouth to slap me a bit more, I took my hands off my head to move the hair out of my face that had fallen down and was irritating me. He immediately pulled me up by the hair, bent over to look me in the eye and said in that measured tone of his as if speaking to a child,
“You don’t move your hands. If you need to move your hands, I will tell you, understand?”
I nodded my head that I did.
Headmaster began to rummage through the gear bag that Daddy had brought, surveying what he had to work with. He found the bag of clothes pins and began to methodically attach them to my breasts.
He then found one of several dildos in the bag. I was mortified by the one he pulled out. It had not been used in some time and was covered in dog hair from its last visit to our bed. I always thoroughly clean our toys after use. I have no idea why this one was in the condition that it was. Nevertheless I was embarrassed by my unkempt dildo.
He led me to the mirror mounted on the wall and attached the suction cup dildo to it. I was then directed into position #2, ordered to push back into the dildo and began to fuck it. As I did this, Headmaster came around in front of me and inserted his cock into my mouth. I was to fuck the dildo mounted on the mirror while sucking Headmaster. I felt a bit embarrassed by the noise of the mirror banging against the wall as I moved. We were near the door to the hotel room and I did not want to make too much noise. Headmaster began to move me back and forth on the dildo at the pace he was seeking. The mirror squeaked and banged against the wall in a most mortifying fashion.
When Headmaster had had enough I was led back to the center of the room into position one. I stood with my hands behind my head, chest pushed out as he took the end of my leash and began to lash at my breasts methodically dislodging the clothes pins with his blows. I cried out a few times with the pain.
When he had succeeded in removing all the clothes pins, he took each breast in his hands and squeezed forcefully.
“It’s not putting the clothes pins on that is painful; it’s when you remove them and the blood begins to flow back in,” he told me as I panted and groaned in agony.
When my breast torture was complete for the moment, I was laid back on the bed, legs bent and spread. Clothespins were attached to my pussy lips. Again this was entirely bearable and arousing for me, until he retrieved a roll of electrical tape from Jay. He wrapped this around each thigh and attached it to the clothes pins, pulling my pussy lips in a most wonderfully excruciating manner.
He also attempted to attach a clothes pin to my clit at which I cried out, “What the fuck?!”, and jumped unable to tolerate the pain level. I should have used my safe word at this point. I am surprised I was not reprimanded for not doing so.
Headmaster noted that I was very wet…so wet that he had trouble affixing the clothes pins to my pussy lips.
“When did you first become wet?” he probed.
Again I was shamed. . Shamed that I was so extremely wet, shamed that I was spread out there on the bed for he and Daddy to stare at just how wet I was, shamed to tell him I had first began to grow wet during our conversation in the lobby. After a little writhing around and stalling, I finally admitted to him when I began to grow wet.
He came to the side of the bed, my leash raised in his hand preparing to strike my inner thighs and/or pussy. I flinched, cried out and tensed.
He leaned down and said in a measured tone of voice again as if speaking to a child, “I haven’t even done anything yet. Quit anticipating it.”
I couldn’t help myself. I continued to writhe and whimper as he raised the leash again. He finally took pity on me and covered my eyes with his hands as he struck my inner thighs and pussy with the end of the leather leash.
I was rewarded with his cock in my mouth and his fingers moving on my clit. I sucked his cock to the best of my ability with my head in an awkward position, licking up and down the shaft until I reached his balls. Licking and sucking his balls until I was rewarded with “That’s a good girl.” My clit became more and more stimulated as his fingers worked it.
“Are you close to cumming?” he asked.
“Yes Sir,” I breathed.
“Don’t you do it. Don’t you cum without permission.”
I was pulled back up off the bed into position one as nipple clamps were retrieve from the bag and attached to my nipples with the chain connecting them threaded through the O ring in my collar, causing the clamps to bite into my nipples at first in a very arousing manner which would quickly become increasingly painful.
After a few moments I was directed to sit on the ottoman facing the chair and masturbate for him. I did this with abandon as my pussy was so wet and so very swollen. I took a furtive glance at Headmaster every now and then as he focused his attention on my hand and cunt which only served to increase my arousal.
When I was clearly close, again came the order, “Don’t you cum.”
I whimpered a bit and slowed my hand trying to stem the rising tide of pleasure threatening to wash over me.
“Don’t slow down either. Don’t you cum, but don’t slow down,” Headmaster ordered.
I took a couple of breaths which always helps me hold off cumming and did my best to comply.
Last Sunday Jay and I made the decision to meet with him. The parameters were set that if there seemed to be some sort of chemistry, he would dispense with the small talk and move forward quickly with what we all desired. We were to meet at a local hotel which also housed a lounge where we might have drinks and chat.
Unfortunately, the lounge was not available on a Sunday afternoon so it was agreed we would simply meet at the hotel and find a quiet place to chat.
Jay informed me that we had to make a little side stop on the way over to our meeting which turned out to be a trip to the mall where I was to pick out a pair of panties to wear to our meeting.
When we arrived at the hotel I was nervous as a cat. We walked in and glanced around the lobby to see our guest had not yet arrived, so we sat down to wait which made it even worse. He arrived not five minutes later and my heart began to pound.
We exchanged pleasantries and sought out a quiet place on the other side of the hotel to chat. We sat with Jay to my right and our new friend directly across from me.
“I understand you made a stop on your way here today,” he began.
I nodded my head in assent.
“And what did you make the stop for?” he prodded.
“A pair of panties,” I answer shyly.
“Why don’t you show me,” he replied.
I lifted my dress enough to flash him the panties.
“Go ahead and stand up and take them off and place them on the table here,” he directed.
I hesitated for a moment, glanced around to see the area was deserted, stood up, removed the panties and tossed them on the table.
“Fold them up neatly and place them on the table,” he directed in a measured tone.
I retrieved the panties from the table, folded them awkwardly, feeling silly and embarrassed and placed them back on the table.
“Do you have your rosebud in?” he queried.
I nodded that I did.
“Stand up, bend over the chair, and show me,” he replied.
I did exactly as I was told, lifting my dress to show him my pink rosebud glimmering from my asshole.
I sat back down, twirling my sunglasses nervously in one hand until I caught him staring from me to the twirling hand. I immediately stilled my hand with nothing but a look.
We began to discuss our mutual desire to check in and adjourn to a room.
“Do you understand why you have been brought here today” he asked.
“Yes Sir,” I replied.
“And why is that?” he countered.
“For training, Sir,” I responded.
“That’s right. And do you understand that you will be pushed and limits will be tested?”
“Yes Sir”
“Are you ready for that?”
“Yes Sir,” I responded as my pussy moistened and a tingle of fear began to run through me.
As we reached the hall on which our room was located, our new friend which I shall refer to as Sir Headmaster going forward, turned to me and said, “You will remove your dress here in the hall.”
The hall was deserted but I could hear people moving about somewhere nearby. I looked at him nervously, unsure what to do.
“I can hear people around the corner,” I protested weakly.
“Then we’d better move quickly, hadn’t we?” Headmaster replied in an even tone.
“Yes Sir,” I responded as I quickly pulled my dress over my head leaving me entirely naked save for my heels.
I scurried behind him desperate for the privacy of the closed hotel room door.
When we entered the room, Daddy ordered me to my knees and affixed my collar around my neck.
Headmaster approached me and informed me he would be teaching me my basic positions which I would be expected to memorize and move into quickly with only the utterance of the number by him. He further clarified I was to use the standard safe words of “yellow” and “red” with which he understood I was familiar. He suggested I let Daddy call my safe words for me, but would allow me to use them as well during this first session.
Position one required me to stand, hands behind my head, chest out, legs spread. He circled me as I stood in this position explaining that this position allowed him to view and inspect nearly all of my body. My pussy grew even wetter as he looked me over as if I was a piece of livestock of which he was considering purchase.
Position two required me to keep my legs straight and lean forward at a 90 degree angle, legs still spread, hands on the back of my head. From this position I was told he could inspect areas he could not see in position one such as my pussy and ass. He could make sure I was clean and properly shaven he told me as he spread my ass cheeks and ran his finger over my dripping cunt. He returned me to position one and slowly inserted his fingers in my mouth as I sucked my own wetness from them.
Position three required me to kneel on the ground hands behind my head, chest pushed out, while position four was a position of worship which placed my face on the floor arms outstretched in front of my body.
From here on out he would call out numbers and I would comply with the position. A time or two I stumbled on what to do with my hands in position one until my head was jerked down by the hair to his seated position and he quietly said to me in his measured tone, “The hands go in the same place in each position. Why is this so hard for you? It’s not that difficult, is it?”
“No Sir,” I replied.
My leash was attached to my collar, I was ordered on all fours and made to crawl along the floor as he led me about the room, the leash taut enough to cause the collar to choke me.
When this task was completed I was directed to remove his shoes and socks. I have a thing about feet. I am not fond of touching them with the exception of my own and my daughter’s cute little feet, so I had a little trouble with the notion of removing his socks. I did remove them and immediately tossed them inside out onto his shoes. It was an act of laziness I was not going to get away with. I was immediately reprimanded and told to fold the socks neatly over his shoes right side out. I squeamishly turned them right side out and laid them neatly over the shoes as directed, my need to please outweighing my aversion to touching his socks.
He then removed his belt and I watched nervously knowing what was coming next. I was led to the bed and made to bend over it, ass exposed. I was relieved to find the strokes of the belt were rather mild and easily bearable.
I was then ordered back down on my knees and made to remove his shorts. I noted the bulge of his cock in his underwear and wondered when I would have the pleasure of seeing it. I was led about the room on all fours a few more times before being told to remove his underwear.
His cock sprang forth, large, hard and oozing with precum. He brought it to my face and I reached out to take it in my mouth only to be slapped in the face and reminded I had not been given permission to take him in my mouth. He slapped his cock in my face quite hard a few times before allowing me to take him in my mouth. I sucked and tasted as my head moved up and down.
When he pulled out of my mouth to slap me a bit more, I took my hands off my head to move the hair out of my face that had fallen down and was irritating me. He immediately pulled me up by the hair, bent over to look me in the eye and said in that measured tone of his as if speaking to a child,
“You don’t move your hands. If you need to move your hands, I will tell you, understand?”
I nodded my head that I did.
Headmaster began to rummage through the gear bag that Daddy had brought, surveying what he had to work with. He found the bag of clothes pins and began to methodically attach them to my breasts.
He then found one of several dildos in the bag. I was mortified by the one he pulled out. It had not been used in some time and was covered in dog hair from its last visit to our bed. I always thoroughly clean our toys after use. I have no idea why this one was in the condition that it was. Nevertheless I was embarrassed by my unkempt dildo.
He led me to the mirror mounted on the wall and attached the suction cup dildo to it. I was then directed into position #2, ordered to push back into the dildo and began to fuck it. As I did this, Headmaster came around in front of me and inserted his cock into my mouth. I was to fuck the dildo mounted on the mirror while sucking Headmaster. I felt a bit embarrassed by the noise of the mirror banging against the wall as I moved. We were near the door to the hotel room and I did not want to make too much noise. Headmaster began to move me back and forth on the dildo at the pace he was seeking. The mirror squeaked and banged against the wall in a most mortifying fashion.
When Headmaster had had enough I was led back to the center of the room into position one. I stood with my hands behind my head, chest pushed out as he took the end of my leash and began to lash at my breasts methodically dislodging the clothes pins with his blows. I cried out a few times with the pain.
When he had succeeded in removing all the clothes pins, he took each breast in his hands and squeezed forcefully.
“It’s not putting the clothes pins on that is painful; it’s when you remove them and the blood begins to flow back in,” he told me as I panted and groaned in agony.
When my breast torture was complete for the moment, I was laid back on the bed, legs bent and spread. Clothespins were attached to my pussy lips. Again this was entirely bearable and arousing for me, until he retrieved a roll of electrical tape from Jay. He wrapped this around each thigh and attached it to the clothes pins, pulling my pussy lips in a most wonderfully excruciating manner.
He also attempted to attach a clothes pin to my clit at which I cried out, “What the fuck?!”, and jumped unable to tolerate the pain level. I should have used my safe word at this point. I am surprised I was not reprimanded for not doing so.
Headmaster noted that I was very wet…so wet that he had trouble affixing the clothes pins to my pussy lips.
“When did you first become wet?” he probed.
Again I was shamed. . Shamed that I was so extremely wet, shamed that I was spread out there on the bed for he and Daddy to stare at just how wet I was, shamed to tell him I had first began to grow wet during our conversation in the lobby. After a little writhing around and stalling, I finally admitted to him when I began to grow wet.
He came to the side of the bed, my leash raised in his hand preparing to strike my inner thighs and/or pussy. I flinched, cried out and tensed.
He leaned down and said in a measured tone of voice again as if speaking to a child, “I haven’t even done anything yet. Quit anticipating it.”
I couldn’t help myself. I continued to writhe and whimper as he raised the leash again. He finally took pity on me and covered my eyes with his hands as he struck my inner thighs and pussy with the end of the leather leash.
I was rewarded with his cock in my mouth and his fingers moving on my clit. I sucked his cock to the best of my ability with my head in an awkward position, licking up and down the shaft until I reached his balls. Licking and sucking his balls until I was rewarded with “That’s a good girl.” My clit became more and more stimulated as his fingers worked it.
“Are you close to cumming?” he asked.
“Yes Sir,” I breathed.
“Don’t you do it. Don’t you cum without permission.”
I was pulled back up off the bed into position one as nipple clamps were retrieve from the bag and attached to my nipples with the chain connecting them threaded through the O ring in my collar, causing the clamps to bite into my nipples at first in a very arousing manner which would quickly become increasingly painful.
After a few moments I was directed to sit on the ottoman facing the chair and masturbate for him. I did this with abandon as my pussy was so wet and so very swollen. I took a furtive glance at Headmaster every now and then as he focused his attention on my hand and cunt which only served to increase my arousal.
When I was clearly close, again came the order, “Don’t you cum.”
I whimpered a bit and slowed my hand trying to stem the rising tide of pleasure threatening to wash over me.
“Don’t slow down either. Don’t you cum, but don’t slow down,” Headmaster ordered.
I took a couple of breaths which always helps me hold off cumming and did my best to comply.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
The Week of Music: I Could Not Ask for More
The final entry for the week of music is Edwin McCain's "I Could Not Ask for More." This is the song Jay and I danced to as our first dance at our wedding reception. As I said at the beginning of the week I agree with him now that INXS' "Never Tear Us Apart" probably would have been a better choice. Be that as it may, this song expressed everything I felt about my Jay at the time. It reminded me everytime I heard it how blessed I was to have finally found my soul mate.
This song still expresses eloquently how I feel about my Jay.
I hope you have found a little something of interest in this week of music, dear reader. We will resume your reguarly scheduled diet of my dirty thoughts and deeds in the near future. There has been quite a development to report over the last week...
This song still expresses eloquently how I feel about my Jay.
I hope you have found a little something of interest in this week of music, dear reader. We will resume your reguarly scheduled diet of my dirty thoughts and deeds in the near future. There has been quite a development to report over the last week...
Friday, September 3, 2010
The Week of Music: Everybody Hurts
Toay's music offering is REM's "Everybody Hurts." This song brings to mind love #1 from the high school and college days. Specifically it brings to mind the evening he finally told me he was gay and how difficult and painful it was for both of us.
It further brings to mind how he struggled with his identity and to accept who he was. It was a painful time for both of us that eventually drove us apart for a time, and when we did come back into contact with each other it was only sporadic and never the same as it once was.
He is doing very well these days personally and professionally, and I am thrilled for him. He is secure and content with who he is. Time and maturity have allowed me to see that he did indeed love me very much (his words and actions demonstrated this to me). He just couldn't offer it to me in the form I wanted. The form really no longer matters to me. He loved me, and I loved him and the memories of him are something I cherish.
It further brings to mind how he struggled with his identity and to accept who he was. It was a painful time for both of us that eventually drove us apart for a time, and when we did come back into contact with each other it was only sporadic and never the same as it once was.
He is doing very well these days personally and professionally, and I am thrilled for him. He is secure and content with who he is. Time and maturity have allowed me to see that he did indeed love me very much (his words and actions demonstrated this to me). He just couldn't offer it to me in the form I wanted. The form really no longer matters to me. He loved me, and I loved him and the memories of him are something I cherish.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
The Week of Music:Somebody
Today's music offering is Depeche Mode's "Somebody." This song describes the marriage Jay and I aspire to, and I think we succeeed 99% of the time. We disagree, we even fight from time to time, but neither one of us is going anywhere. My love and support for him are unshakable, and God knows it has been tested. This is my love song to my Jay.
Incidentally, he passed through as I was working on this post, heard the song playing, and remarked, " I love that song. You know that's how I feel about you, don't you?"
Incidentally, he passed through as I was working on this post, heard the song playing, and remarked, " I love that song. You know that's how I feel about you, don't you?"
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