Perfect weekend

It’s hard to believe that it is very nearly December, and that we have to start to think about Christmas. In one way, the past two months or so have sped past in a kind of blur of activity. But it has been a tiring painful time. Having my mum in hospital for the past two weeks has been challenging. But thankfully she is now recovering at home, and fears about a more serious disease than pneumonia (though that is serious enough) appear unfounded.

Master decided we should have a weekend away and go somewhere that His girl would unwind and where we could both be pampered. That place was a lovely and pretty luxurious hotel in Amsterdam, a place with suites where you get a jacuzzi bath, sauna and steam shower in your room. A place where such wonderful luxury can lure a girl into thinking that she is with a regular romantic until He hogties her and then leaves her while He has a shower.

My overriding  memory of the weekend is one of relaxation and pampering. Sipping champagne in the jacuzzi, going down on each other in the sauna. Apparently there was a list of things of which along with hogtying me on the bed were included.

We also explored the City of Amsterdam a little, though mainly in relation to eating and drinking. This wasn’t a tourist type weekend, it was one of indulgence. One which for me was perfect and one to look back on with pleasure.

It’s about the power, the control and the submission

He is not a great one for overt signs of dominance. There are rules, but if they are broken, and He doesn’t consider it serious He is not exactly hot on physical punishment. But in the main, the rules about behaviour don’t get broken anyway, since He has a very strong, but subtle control over me.

That control and the power that goes with it, is something I love so much about this relationship. That and the great times we have together, the advice and support He offers and the way He touches me.
Oh yes, the touch.
This morning, He spent time admiring His current project – the growth and shaping of the bush (the one that sits around the area of His girl’s pubes). He stroked, sat looking and then trimmed it. Then He wrote good girl above it. He also told me how much He loved how my clit is hidden unless my legs are spread. God, no man have ever told me that they love my body in that way.
The things He does, the things he says make me feel so damned submissive.
It doesn’t take play or sex. It doesn’t take a collar or exposing myself in public.
It takes the man – the understated Dominance. The way in which He exerts His power, His control.
I can’t pretend, I love it and love Him.

Hard to take

This has been a difficult week in many ways. It is difficult enough for you to manage work, a parent in hospital and ordinary life. Without having to consider some of the realities I do.

Mum ended up in hospital after spending a night and most of a day on the floor. Having fallen over, for some reason she was unable to get up. The busy lives of her children meant that none of us called until she had already been there for far too long. That is difficult to come to terms with. 
For several days she appeared to be recovering from the (as we thought) resulting pneumonia. Only to discover yesterday that actually the pneumonia and fall may have been a symptom for something far worse.
Losing one parent to Cancer is hard to take. But it seems that mum might have the disease too.
Meanwhile I juggle work and caring responsibilities with the life I desire and need. Damn there is barely enough time in a day to put in a day’s work, let alone anything else. Luckily the hospital is close, but that can be a double edged sword when it comes to family.
I long for my day off from caring on Saturday, so Master and I can go out. I feel excited and guilty at the same time!
I never asked for life to be easy, but this really is hard to take!

His play thing

It had been a while since He had played with her and she had forgotten how much she needs such time. She stood naked before Him as He put tape around her to frame her breasts, then more tape across her eyes. As instructed she now lay on the bed.

He secured her ankles in the spreader bar. Though He didn’t restrain her hands, just having her legs spread in that way, was enough.

She listened to Him moving around and then heard the unmistakable crackle of the violet wand, closely followed by the sensation of it connecting with her skin and the smell of ozone. He combed her hair, stroked her arms, and then connected with the clamps on her nipples. She jumped. He connected again and she felt herself pulling away from where she perceived He might put the wand next. At the same time she relished the delicious feeling of tingling pain.

Her best friend the hitachi is applied, and she is granted an orgasm.

Next, and maybe this might seem bizarre, He shaved her bush. Since May, she has been growing the hair for Him. For the most part, since then, she has been taking care of it herself, growing it to His liking. Today though, He decided it was time to shape it, into a smaller triangle. For her, there is something erotic about lying on a bed, restrained and blindfolded while her Master shaves her in this way. She hears Him take the water away, and then a draw opening and closing. Suddenly He is flogging her – mainly the thighs; she cries out in pain. He brings back the hitachi and the pain turns to pleasure, or maybe the pain was pleasure? Who knows.

He tells her to turn over, on her knees, bottom in the air. Suddenly, immense pain – He has clamped her labia. She tells Him that this hurts, fucking hurts! Then more flogging, it is difficult now to know what hurts more, her reddening backside or the labia. Then there is the hitachi again. Damn that man for giving her just the right combination of pain and orgasm so that just when she thinks she can take no more pain it subsides into the distance.

Then the pain is over and she is on her back again. Unrestrained, all her senses returned to her. He is inside His toy. Taking her and also giving her what she needs.

Taking what He needs, but always, always giving.

Love Our Lurkers

Well here is a novelty. I have already blogged about my lurkers on World of joolz, because I think that is where my lurkers still live.

Blogging is interesting. While those of us who do this whole submissive / Dominant, kinky, spanking or whatever blogging thing often comment. Even those who have lots to say, probably lurk. I know I do. Particularly when, as now, things are difficult in normal life, it is easier to lurk. Indeed it is a safe place. But at a time like this, it is time to make yourself seen and heard. So over the next day or so, I will try to do just that.

I don’t know if anyone is lurking here. But, if you are; welcome.

Come in, make yourself at home. Don’t be frightened, even if my kink is not yours, we have something in common. We lurk……

Life is good, life is bad

That is just how it feels.

On the one hand I feel free to be the person I know I am. In that freedom, I am able to enjoy being His slave, His bitch, His piece of fuckmeat. As and when He chooses.

He has bought me a leather bodice top, kind of corset like, which completes the leather look He wants for me. This weekend, He played with me harder than for a while.

He is shaping me into the slave He wants.

At the same time, we are having some good, fun times together. Spending time in each others company, just being.


The respite I had hoped for after losing my dad is not happening. Mum is physically unwell, in hospital with a chest infection and a series of falls. We thought her problems were emotional and psychological as a result of losing her husband of 55 years.

The responsibility of being the daughter she needs right now is weighing me down, and while my brothers say they don’t begrudge my obvious happiness elsewhere, I can’t help but carry the burden.

Balance is the thing, I know that. I am seeking that balance and know that I have Master to help me find it.

That is why, I have struggled with the words here on my blog. But hopefully this little post is the start of the end of my slight bloggers block.