Two weeks ago we had our first play time for, well who knows how long. Master used and abused His slave and she was rewarded with a large number of orgasms. Later that evening found the slave wearing a kind of net dress and promising that more time would be spent on display, ready for Master’s use.
When we have those conversations we completely mean them. But life isn’t just about having a kinky time, about kneeling at His feet and waiting to be given instructions on how to best provide service. Being owned, being His slave is just part of what I am and what we do. But it is always there, always in the background. I would go as far as to say that every day, whether we are together or not I remember my place and I am also clear that He does too.
Last weekend we travelled to France. I needed to check up on my apartment to make sure it had survived the holiday season (I pretty much had guests staying continuously from June to October) and to think about the things that will need doing before next year. We both had thoughts about the kinky stuff we might get up to while there, but as is often the case, things just got in the way. Things started to go slightly off course when, after dinner and wine we found ourselves in our favourite bar and jointed in the Karaoke. Master’s rendition of Que reste-t-il de nos amours (I know I had never heard of it either), will be long remembered, plus I videoed it!
Plans for the next morning went out of the window since we woke closer to lunch time and were a ‘little’ hung over. After a leisurely coffee we made our way to the supermarket for supplies, but since I hadn’t actually got around to checking what, other than food might be required I came away without stocking up on cleaning necessities etc.
It was by then a beautiful sunny afternoon and warm enough to eat our lunch on the apartment balcony and then we took a stroll around the lake. The scenery was lovely, the weather beautiful. We saw flamingos and other birds, as well as plenty of autumnal plants. However as dusk fell and we found ourselves on a particularly sandy part of the Etang a combination of midges and mosquitoes hit us. We must have looked like a comedy duo as we tried to sweep them out of our hair and around our faces. Next morning, Master discovered he had been bitten badly on his head and under one eye (usually it is me who suffers in this way).
On Sunday, after a relaxing morning we headed out to visit a small and very pretty town called St Guilhem-le-Désert. Whenever we are in France, we try to visit at least one new place (for either or us or both) and this place has the remains of an old monastery surrounded by quaint shops, little alley ways and over looked by the Hérault Gorges. Sadly the day was too short to properly explore the area, but it is something to come back to.
Monday morning and we began cleaning up. A realisation dawned that I hadn’t quite achieved what we had travelled to France for. I hadn’t replenished cleaning stocks and hadn’t done any real maintenance. We hadn’t done anything kinky, much less had sex. But we had fun and made new memories. As Master has said since we demonstrated that we are growing old disgracefully. Do you know what we are living life and we are loving it too. A successful weekend then!