Play thing

It had been a long time. We have a busy social life, like to travel and then there has been all of the work we have been doing on my house. Sometimes even our sex life has taken a back seat, heaven knows that a couple in their 50’s can’t physically fit all of that stuff in and still remain awake and able to walk.

So when I say it had been a long time since there was any kind of kinky play, I really mean it. I would need to look back on this blog to discover exactly when and I know both of us have been missing the release that it gives us. But this last weekend we made a conscious effort to make some time which wasn’t about rushing around town or painting walls. The decorating isn’t finished, but we decided we needed a day off and so as not to be tempted I headed to His place for the weekend just to be sure.
Lunch on Saturday was a relaxing meal of some indulgent Iberico ham, salad and wine. As we cleared away Master told me He needed to trim my hair. That is the hair on my pussy, rather than my head, though I know He would like to get his clippers on that too! We have few rules in our relationship but one is that I grow my bush and that He is in charge of trimming it.

So, with me restrained in a spreader bar, wrists cuffed and blind folded, He set about his work with electric hair clippers. Next He started covering me in various temporary tattoos and then got down to the business of using my body as His play object.
As usual  the order of events is far from clear due to the large number of forced orgasms inflicted upon me (grins!) with His Hitachi wand. But what I do remember are the nipple clamps, the violet wand, the pussy pumping thing and quite a bit of flogging. The full range of attachments on the violet wand were made use of, including those I am less fond of (as mentioned the other day).With each orgasm he made a mark on my tummy, this is useful after the event, since it is so hard to recall and exact number afterwards.

I know He would have had me turn over so He could give me some stripes on my backside, but on Sunday we were going to the cinema to see a long silent film (he is very considerate like that).

At the end of proceedings, He released me from my constraints and instructed me to suck His cock. I can’t tell you how wonderful it was to be able to please Him in that way.

To think I used to think shopping was the best way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

 

R is for ……….

Restraint and relaxation

It has been an amazing revelation to me that being restrained gives me such a feeling of freedom. You would imagine that having your movement restricted would make you want to rebel and break free, but generally this isn’t the case. Master often starts by putting my ankles in cuffs and then attaching them to a spreader bar, before moving on to wrist restraints. A calmness seems to engulf me as I await whatever is next. Usually some kind of penetration (one or both holes),  and then painful stimuli. The violet wand, floggers, paddles etc. Added to that, perhaps the hitachi to force an orgasm or six.

The restraint though is the key in these circumstances. The ability to just absorb the sensations seems to be possible because I am unable to move. Somehow it allows me to embrace my submission and to face it head on. To relax and to enjoy (even if I don’t know I am enjoying it at the time).

Given the photo below though, it is difficult to understand how I find restraint quite as I have described above. Somehow though it just is.

 

We both value the ability to relax in each others company. We have busy lives – for me, work is hectic at times and then I have family responsibilities and for us both we often lead a busy social life. We value the downtimes though and have found that we can be comfortable together doing our own thing – reading, browsing, researching (him), sewing (me), listening to music – often time passes without a need to speak, just time to enjoy being together and to relax. Something I am looking forward to this coming weekend.

G is for……….

Glass dildo and Good girl. The photo below is of my bottom, into which Master has inserted a glass dildo. There is something lovely about that object as it is pushed into your body. It is cool, it is smooth, it is hard but not in the way plastic or rubber is hard. It is also pretty, though you can’t see it’s beauty from this photo. The shaft of the dildo has rings of pink, I think (I don’t have it here so I can’t check). As you can see it has a ring of glass at the end which makes it easy to hold for withdrawal. The morning of the glass dildo was a morning of orgasms and of double penetration. A lot of our sex and play takes place in the mornings, it is a time when we are emerging from sleep and are feeling pretty sexy. The play times are less frequent than the sexy times, and that makes them special. The glass dildo is pretty special too.

Until about 2 years ago, I hadn’t been called a girl, much less a good girl for a very long time. When Master told me I was girl, his girl, this girl I found it hard to get my head around. But since I am meant to refer to myself as this girl all of the time, and much of the time I remember to do so, the words now trip off of my tongue more easily.

I love nothing more these days than to be told I am a good girl, that I have done well and pleased him. Sometimes I do forget who I am, and I do say too much, I do buy into his argumentative nature, I do allow myself to get dragged in and to argue back, even when I know I will get annoyed and start to question my very place as his slave. This statement is written for and to Master, since this happened last night and last week and the week before. I say it because I know what is happening and I can stop it. I say it because I truly am his slave, his good girl and I am not going to allow discussions on topics we will never agree on and which aren’t even important to us, to get in the way of that.