Privacy

Scrabble letters spelling out privacy

Where to start with the Food for Thought topic of privacy this week? The fact that our every move around towns and cities, in pubs, shops and restaurant are monitored. That our digital habits are monitored to the extent that we receive adverts on our phones for things mentioned in passing. Or being part of a sex positive, open community that guards its privacy. And that’s without mentioning the debate in my own head about privacy vs being out there.

We’re constantly being watched

I noticed last weekend that our regular pub has (at least) two cctv cameras. One points towards the bar area and the other in the newly refurbished lounge. The latter is used for events. Hmm I thought, even here I’m being watched and not just by the staff.

We’re used to the cameras on the roads and in public spaces. Yes, they can be used to catch people up to no good, but they are there and they are watching.

One of our neighbours is obsessed that people turn in the area in front of their house. It’s not even a private driveway but they’ve put up signs staying Private Keep Out. We overheard the guy telling a driver who had missed the sign that they would be on cctv and if they did it again they would be prosecuted. For a while we thought they really had cameras, but they haven’t. However I was worried for a while that the camera was trained straight towards our house. It turned out to be a central heating flue. Still their behaviour gives us hours of amusement.

The evils of google (other search engines exist and there are other evils)

This morning I ordered some new clothes online. Socks and a top from my favourite place for socks. Minutes later I had adverts for that company on my facebook timeline. Tell you what Facebook, I just bought from this company, I need no adverts. I looked at a planner online the other day and on my Instagram I had a picture of the planner with a message. ‘We saw you looked at our planner, why not complete your purchase’. No thanks.

Before now we’ve been discussing a place, activity or potential purchase and next one of us gets an unsolicited email or advert somewhere. What the fuck? So it’s clear that we’re being watched (through digital algorithms or something) at home as well as out of it.

But to be honest I’m not ready to make all my movements secret just yet. Though of course I’m in disguise right now. True, I’m not wearing a moustache and dark glasses but I am hiding my true identity while in plain site on my blog.

The issue of privacy in the sex blogging / kink community

Many people in this community use an alias, some of the names are very clever. So much so that you don’t always know that isn’t their real name. Many people post photos of themselves but never show their face. Or at least show it in such a way that you would pass them in the street. I know people in person from munches, kink events and of course Eroticon and don’t know their real names. Some I’ve been told their real first names, but can’t remember and still call them by their aliases. I’m not sure it matters. So long as the person you portray in that world is you, it doesn’t matter what you call yourself.

Not too long ago the blogging community was stung by someone who used an alias but also invented a whole life. As their lies unravelled it wasn’t the fact that we didn’t know their real name that hurt. But that the person had destroyed the trust of the community. Equally there are plenty of fake Dom / Dommes online. People who lure the vulnerable into their lair and then inflict abuse. Privacy is important but can come with at a price.

Being out but private about it

At the beginning of this journey I guarded my privacy. My blog was known about by no one I knew. This was partly because of the nature of what I was doing (kinky stuff with a new man) but mainly because I was married. I was also working in a profession where you could get sacked (at that time) for things posted on the internet. Gradually though things changed. My husband found out about my infidelity (through snooping in my emails) and once I met Master I explored kink in new ways. In 2013 I was made redundant and my relationship with my longterm public sector employer changed for ever. When I worked for them again a year later I cared much less about being sacked. But anyway attitudes have changed (not to kink so much as blogging etc. in general.

So, you can see my face on my blog. My name is Julie and I’m relatively open about myself and my life. But I wouldn’t write or tell people my full name, my surname is not common. I tell people face to face the general area in which I live, but not the address. I discuss my son and family but am pretty vague about them and would never post photos of them on my blog. For one thing it would be difficult to get consent since I don’t want them to know about it. In an ideal world I’d be open to family and friends about our lifestyle. But the world isn’t ideal and I just know they wouldn’t understand. But also, it’s our business and I don’t want to mix up those aspects of my life.

Recent challenges

Recently I started my new blog Food and Fitness for Health. It’s vanilla and about the challenge of getting myself healthier and fitter. I had the hunch that others might use if as a resource and wanted to keep it separate from this blog. I have friends who would be great contributors but I have stopped at the point of telling anyone. But I just know (or have a hunch) that it would lead to being outed. So I’m in a quandary.

I’ve already linked this blog with them by the Food Matters and Wicked Wednesday memes. But actually in order to get it up and running I do need to do so. I need this community to help give some traction. So, I’ll continue to sit on the fence about telling people and instead let them come to me.

So you see, I’m out but in a private way. Also though I’m not convinced that in the end it’s individuals we should be scared of. Because the large social media and other tech companies that are tracking us and already know all of our names. Fake and fiction. So I get on with life and try not to worry about what might happen if my son found out I am MPB Julie and not just plain mum.

Objectification in our relationship

Me wearing a dog mask.

I’ll start by saying that I’d decided not to write for this prompt on Tell Me About, because I have nothing to say. But a conversation with Master reminded me that actually it is part of my life. Somewhere over the past few weeks I’ve forgotten, partly because objectification is just an every day part of our lives.

When I wrote this post it was all new. I’d recently learned that being called a slut or bitch turned me on. Being ‘this girl’ made me smile because it confirmed my role as his slave. Somewhere in the mists of time I’d forgotten that he objectifies me by calling me those things. Of course I haven’t forgotten that I love it, but it’s just we’ve settled into our lives and roles over time.

When I refer to myself as his bitch, it turns him on. That is just a small part of our power exchange. But also it’s key to our Sex Life. Power equals sexual arousal for him and the knowledge of my submission to him still makes me wet.

We use objectification during play, especially when we have space. A few times we’ve stayed overnight in a dungeon and used the facilities to bring that side of us out. Master bought me a dog mask and tail and I have enjoyed wearing them for his pleasure. Dungeons often contain cages and he loves to watch me as I lie there feeling degraded and horny.

That’s the whole thing about degradation and objectification. It feels wrong and right at the same time. We shouldn’t get off on wearing a dog mask or wearing a leather collar and lead. But we do. To begin with that was puzzling to my previously vanilla brain. But over time I’ve embraced my kinks and delighted in the reaction they have on him. The fact that he fancies the pants (if I’m wearing any) off me is a thrill in itself. That his kinks involve objectifying me is especially exciting.

Recently we attended a new club. There was a woman wearing an entire dog costume and being led on a lead. I don’t think I’d want to do that, but I found it fascinating. Then there was the guy wearing a pony saddle and giving people rides on his back. Those places can be a thrilling insight into other people’s kinks. And even if it isn’t your thing it is mighty interesting to watch and see. But also it shows you what you could try out if you so desired. This world of kink is rarely dull!

My problem with food

Plate of food - chicken salad

The thing is that my problem with food is that I like food too much and I pretty much like all food. Obviously I like some things better than others, but the only thing I can think of that I won’t eat is peanut butter. I like peanuts and butter, but together? Yuk!!

This post, for May’s new Life Matters Meme is cross posted on my own health blog. I hope that going forward we will be able to complement each other and build up resources for others to use. I’m planning my own meme next month, which I hope people will also join in with. But for now, the topic is food and problems with it.

As a child

My mum had a strong dislike of waste and my younger brother was picky and pretty lazy. He ate slowly and mucked about and we (my two brothers and I) weren’t allowed to get down until we had all eaten everything. So, I tended to help him out, especially with meat. There is a memorable occasion after I’d been elsewhere at dinner time and the next time she unloaded the washing machine she discovered an uneaten lamb chop in the pocket of his trousers. After that she offered more sausages, something he liked. But I trace my willingness to eat everything in sight to those days. Plus the fact I wasn’t faddy and just liked food. My appetite was healthy.

I never dieted until after I’d had my son

I was an active teenager and young adult. Not sporty but just busy. I could eat lots because I rarely stood or sat still. As a nurse, I spent a great deal of the day running around, up and down stairs and breaks were far and few between. I was a size 12 when I married, but put on weight on honeymoon. I wasn’t worried that I needed a size 14. Looking back I can see I was slim and healthy looking. But each new job was a little more sedentary, I drove instead of taking public transport and started to like wine.

We were married for 7 years before we had my son and had a reasonable amount of disposable income. There were lots of opportunities to socialise with friends and family, we ate out a fair bit. We also developed a taste for pizzas or other fast food that we could get in and cook at home. This was washed down with a bottle or so of wine.

I didn’t enjoy pregnancy and did a fair amount of comfort eating. I craved things like grapes which seemed healthy. Couldn’t drink coffee and often felt unwell. I had a few odd turns while eating out so did so rarely. I had pre-eclampsia and retained fluid. At the end of my pregnancy I’d put on 2 stone in weight. I became more active almost immediately. Breast fed and just by cutting a few things out got to my pre-pregnancy weight and in no time. If that was dieting, it was simple. Little did I know.

Yoyo dieting made me fat

Over the next 10 years I would settle into life, eat what I fancied and then decide I needed to lose some weight and do so. My son was a faddy eater like my brother but I didn’t make him eat everything up. I ate it for him in the kitchen. I also ate food as I cooked and more as I served up. By the time I approached my 40th birthday I was back at my 8 month pregnancy weight and this time it wasn’t falling off by just cutting back. I joined a Rosemary Conley club because it involved a half hour fitness class. I lost the weight in time for my birthday and decided I was done.

More time passed and I joined Slimming World. Here you could eat pasta or rice till it came out of your ears but you had to restrict fat and sugar. This brought me into the world of large portions of starchy carbohydrates and aspartame.

I’ve been a slimming world member on and off for over 10 years now. I’ve lost weight and put it back on. This time I’ve lost weight and put it back while still attending the group. I enjoy the friendship of my fellow group members, but the diet doesn’t work for me anymore. The company will tell you this is not a diet, but a way of life. But the problem is many of my fellow members eat a lot of highly processed food and tons of artificial sweeteners.

Getting cancer was a wake up call

There are people who will tell you that your diet causes cancer. That if you are over weight and also drink alcohol that causes cancer. It contributes but there are a lot of factors involved. However since my own diagnosis almost 18 months ago I have read a lot of books, articles and blogs about diet and health. I have begun to realise that the processes applied to food production to make them ‘healthier’ may well be harmful. I’ve begun to appreciate the taste of real food rather than artificial. I don’t plan to become obsessed with what I eat but the steps I’m taking right now are working.

Since November last year I’ve made some big changes. I’ve introduced intermittent fasting and stopped snacking. My fruit consumption has reduced, but I do still eat it, mainly berries. I’ve reduced my starchy carbohydrate input and eaten a lot more vegetables. I’ve eaten little sugar laden foods, indeed am finding them too sweet to eat. Though I had a small mince pie on Boxing Day and really enjoyed it. I had some chocolate at Christmas too and, it was a treat. I ate whole meal pasta last night and again felt it a treat.

I’m trying to change my relationship with food

Firstly to eat when hungry. I reckon I lost that ability when I was a child eating my brothers left overs. Whereas my son retains it. Now I eat lunch and dinner when I am hungry and not really before.

I’m trying to savour food, to enjoy the tastes. But also to eat real food. I want and need to lose weight for a specific purpose but this time I want it to be the last time. I’m committed to ending my dieting journey and instead finding something that I can sustain. Just because I like food I don’t have to eat it all!

Time Management

It’s now 18 months or so since I left my permanent job and kind of retired. In that time I’ve worked on a couple of projects that paid money and am about to again soon. Mostly my time is my own in a way it never was before. Blogging is one of my main hobbies and I try to write most days. But without structure, it can become difficult to maintain productivity and then when some paid employment comes along it’s a challenge to do both.

I was listening to the latest Smutlancer podcast as I journeyed to my meeting yesterday. In it Kayla talks about having a morning (or whenever you need to get writing) routine. I was struck by how much I have tried to put structure into my day, where none previously existed. I’ve done this consciously over recent weeks because to be honest, my time management had slipped over the previous months. It became too easy to blog from the sofa or not. Plus, I had a whole list of things to do that I just kept moving forward in my 2019 planner. One of those was my divorce. It’s 6 months since I told my ex I would start proceedings and had done nothing. I had planned to update my blog, redesign it and make it more whizzy in time for the top 100. But I haven’t done that either. Last summer when I had paid work my blog was neglected. I don’t want that to happen again.

A new year is a good time for a new start

But only if you keep at it. So, new planner in hand I have begun to manage my time more effectively and get through my lists. I particularly love the structure and have created plans for the year and beyond as well as some week by week lists. This relates to personal stuff (the divorce), paid work (vanilla and sex blogging) and content creation for this and Food, Fitness and Health.

I know it is only 2/3 of the way through January but I am confident that I’m heading in the right direction.

Each week I look back at what I’ve achieved and think about how productive I’ve been and what habits I need to change. This also includes some health related stuff, which in turn is material for my health related blog. I’m finding that I want to write about much more than sex and kink (including posts like this). Whereas in the past I’d write nothing rather than something seemingly unrelated, I’ve changed my opinion. This in turn has released some of my creativity and I was delighted that this post was chosen as one of Cara’s picks in Elust. Plus I’ve written some fiction this month too.

Managing time going forward

I’m not convinced I’ve completely cracked the planning yet. My project plans, supplied in the planner need further fine tuning and also I need to think about how I’m going to review my goals at the end of each month. This will, I think help me stay on track. There’s also a finance element as well as productivity outcomes I’ve not completed yet. I was interested reading this post by Marie this morning, that she takes her planner to work with her and plans her work day in the same way as the rest of her life. This feels important to me, who will be returning (at least in part) to working. This time I want to be much more structured about how everything fits together.

The other thing I want to factor into my time is more exercise, adding more walks into my week. Currently I swim every week and walk to and from the pool. But I want to build an increasing amount of exercise in as I get fitter.

I’m sure I’ll return to this topic with an update later in the year.

Opposites Attract (or should you fuck a tory?)

MoteOo (pixabay.com)

In some ways that is true about us. Not in terms of kink, we seem to be aligned there. But upbringing, education and politics. There are some huge differences. This conversation with GOTN yesterday has led me here to this post. But actually I’ve thought about writing it for some time. That’s because a lot of fellow sex bloggers approach their lives from a similar liberal world view. One that I also possess. But I often keep quiet because Master usually has some kind of opposite view. People say, for example they would never fuck a Tory or someone who voted for Brexit. But actually it is possible to have sex and cohabit with someone who is and did those things. I wonder if I should have included a content warning on this post?

Roots

I come from a socialist supporting family, though both my brothers have moved away from that philosophy. My maternal ancestors were mining families from the North East of England. My dad was an electrician and I became a nurse through an apprenticeship type training. Since then I’ve gained 2 degrees and been a health service manager but I believe in socialist values and I’d also prefer we remained part of the EU. The original reason for this was a selfish one. I have a home in France and don’t want complications. But as time has gone on I haven’t been able to work out what will be better when the UK leave.

He went to a private school, on a scholarship and his father was a banker. Master is Oxford educated and was an accountant. He votes Conservative and believes in Brexit. Or did when he voted for it. He doesn’t take anything at face value and reads vociferously. When he voted for Brexit it was because he believes that the EU is corrupt and badly run. That view hasn’t changed, but the complete political mess that ensued after the vote created more common ground than we expected.

Arguments

I was never someone who would finish with someone because of their political beliefs. Unless they wanted to make me change mine, and that clearly hasn’t happened. We certainly don’t discuss politics in bed or in the practice of our BDSM art form. But that isn’t to say we haven’t discussed the two thorny issues of crap tory policies making the country less pleasant to live in and Brexit. We have also had our fair share of arguments, as you might expect.

My husband found it difficult to establish an opinion much less express one. He tended to regurgitate mine. So, actually having someone to argue the state of the country with is a good thing. I’ve also become less volatile in my reactions over the years, it must be age.

But we do argue. Not often and to be honest I struggle to maintain my side to the bitter end (to my own frustration). The trouble is Master often has much more knowledge on a topic than I do. Unless it is about health and health politics and then I can hold my ground. What’s more I tend to lose interest or wrap myself up in knots. His debating skills are just better than mine. Then there is the issue that I’ll never change his mind just like he won’t mine. So, what’s the point.

As I mentioned above though it has been the politicians of the UK and indeed world that have helped us along. There has been no doubt this country has been badly run for the last few years. There is also little doubt that Jeremy Corbyn was never going to be accepted as a prospective prime minister. Even though he has been a better leader than I’d imagined he would be. Brexit has been a shambles and in all likely hood will remain so. We therefore have agreement even if we come at it from opposite views.

Drink

My only caveat is that we must never have political discussions in a pub or even at home while drinking. Over the years that has caused some momentous rows, usually involving me getting so angry that I storm off somewhere. Plus, I’m less articulate when drunk and he tends to forget what he said by morning. So it’s a case of don’t go there. The only upside is that it usually involves some very hot make up sex. But to be honest it would be better to just have the sex and leave out the argument and hangover.

My advice

If you find yourself romantically linked with someone of an apposing political view don’t run away, it might be fine. If you fancy them like crazy and you find that they don’t want to talk about how wonderful Boris is while in bed. Also check they are capable of behaving themselves in public. That they won’t lecture your friends and family and keep their apposing views to more private encounters.

So, if you fancy a tory, don’t be frightened to snog them, or even have sex with them. They might just turn out to be the love of your life.

Home

14th July Fireworks from my balcony in France

Concepts of home have become more difficult for me to articulate over recent years. What does home really mean to me? Is home a place, a person, a state of mind? Unusually, I read the Food for Thought posts already posted before writing this. Now I’m not sure if I’m clearer or if the waters are more muddy. Let’s see.

Childhood

We moved to the house I would consider my childhood home when I was around 5. I have a few memories of the first place, but they may just be from photos I’ve seen. Home was my parents and brothers. My grandparents and cousins visiting. It was family Christmas’ and my room.

As a teenager I got my dad to paint it purple. I had my own little portable cassette deck, my books and other special possessions. It’s the place I did my homework and wrote. Once I got a boyfriend it’s a place I took him, though my mum was forever calling me downstairs!

I got married from that home (though I had moved out 6 months before) and then my parents moved to a new house. I felt at home in their new place, but it wasn’t my home.

Our homes

Hubby and I also owned two houses during the course of our marriage. Our first was special because I’d never lived anywhere that afforded real privacy. By that, I mean that parents and brothers could walk in at home and the home warden at my nurses accommodation. Here only we had a key, everyone else had to knock. That made it home. Then the fact we decorated and chose furniture and furnishings. Finally because it was just us. It was a place that we conceived our son and brought him home to. Later I discovered things hadn’t been as I imagined, because his infidelity started at around that time.

When my son was just 3 months old we moved. I wanted somewhere we could bring up a family, a bigger home and better neighbourhood. The new place was fine to begin with. We decorated, but often struggled to make it feel right (for me that is). However it was my son’s home and over time it became mine too. A place of sanctity, somewhere to hide when things were difficult.

At the end, when my ex had all but gone, it felt like the home it had never been. I spent days and nights there alone and became familiar with every nook and cranny. But when it came time to leave, I knew it was right.

My ex still lives there. I’ve been back and it feels no more like home than any other house in that street. That’s not because they have decorated and have new furniture. I’ve felt that way since I loaded my car with my remaining things and closed the door on that part of my life.

Looking back, I am still not sure that home was ever with my ex. But having my son there made it feel that it was at the time.

Now

We live in Master’s house. To begin with it was very weird, but gradually it has become home. Partly because my possessions have found their place and I have made changes to how things are. Also because we have started to decorate and make plans about how things will be. But this is a home because we are here together. I have a feeling about the concept of home that I didn’t have before.

There is one other place I call home. It’s a small apartment in France that I own (well jointly own with the ex). But it is my bolt hole. It’s the place I went to escape the pain and sadness when my life seemed to be falling apart. I’ve laughed, cried, got drunk and had amazing sex there. It is the place I’d run to if things went tits up here with Master. But it is also the place we go to and gradually it has become something of home to him too. Our place, our home.

Balancing our needs

In her introduction for this week’s Sex Bloggers for Mental Health, Catherine links to my post from last week about priorities. As she highlights, I wrote about the need to balance my and our needs with those of others. For this week’s prompt Catherine asks: but how?

For me, the realisation that a rebalance is required, comes after some kind of crisis. It may just be a moment of stress or some kind of over dramatic meltdown (oh yes, I can be a drama queen).

We are lucky. Our lives don’t any longer revolve around the needs of others. Just of ourselves. We don’t have dependents living with us, nor do we have parents or children living close. But there in lies the slight problem. On one hand we don’t have anyone turning up unexpectedly, but on the other hand, we do need to plan. We can live our own lives spontaneously but interaction with others needs planning. And sometimes we either get the planning wrong, get let down or else have to drop everything for the needs of others. This is kind of what happened at Christmas. My careful planning went wrong, because stuff outside of our control happened and then stress occurred.

Many of us try to control everything around us much too much. I and we are no exception to that. It is in my nature to try to please everyone and by doing so, I end up making myself unhappy. Master needs time of solitude and actually I need that alone time too. But both of us also need to engage with others. He claims he doesn’t; but then suggests going to a munch because he wants to be sociable. When I say we are going to spend an evening with my son or brother he pulls a face, but then enjoys it. Certainly before he met me Master spent far too much time alone and admits now that was not good for him. He claims he dislikes people, but I don’t think he really does, but he definitely needs not to be with others all the time.

That may reflect our different personalities. Me, the extrovert who likes to be with people and he the introvert who lives in his own mind much of the time. But, that’s too simplistic. I find meeting new people difficult. I don’t like noisy places as I can’t shut off from people’s conversations. It’s often he who suggests we go out to meet people and I who would rather stay home.

We both have elderly parents, and the possibility of a call is always there. I know that I will be required at some point to go and help out. My mother is frail and prone to falls. But while she is well and mobile I will keep to my fortnightly visits and support my brother who lives nearby as best I can.

My own brush with ill health and the desire to live my best life right now dictates how I makes sure there is balance. That I do the things I want and need. For example that I take exercise, even if Master isn’t joining me. That we go to new places and see what the world has to offer us. I am lucky to have retired from full time work at such a young age, but I know how easily the freedoms I am afforded could be snatched away. So, with that in mind we put ourselves first. But try to remain mindful of those that surround us.

A bit of a show off

Yep, that’s me. I was that child eager to strut her stuff on stage or to take part in fancy dress competitions. I was that live wire, loud, trying to be centre of attention. Precocious the adult me would have called the younger Julie. I’m an extrovert and I’ll be honest I am a show off and I’m not frightened to flaunt any talents I have. At one time that might have been my long legs and my boobs. I’ve never had an hour glass figure instead I’m more pear shaped. But over all I haven’t let it stop me from wearing what I want.

I guess that’s why I immersed myself so thoroughly into posting pictures on my blog. Because, although I tend to dress for the occasion at work or socially I really love to show off my body. And, over the past 8 years I’ve been lucky enough to be with men who appreciate it.

For S, it was stockings, suspenders and heels. With Master it’s me naked. Though he has a certain appreciation for me in leather fettish gear. I guess that I’ve got out of the habit of wearing it, what with one thing and another. So, last weekend’s trip to a fetish club was a great opportunity to strut my stuff. We don’t have any photos since photography in the club is (for obvious reasons) not allowed. But we certainly should take some for February Photofest.

Lingerie is often something hidden beneath clothes, or not worn (that would be Master’s preference. I tend to wear knickers with jeans, but not leggings and in winter. I do love the opportunity that summer offers. At the moment I always wear a bra, but hope that in the fullness of time that won’t be necessary again. But for now, I have a new found desire to buy matching lingerie and wear it. Last week I showed off my new set and don’t have anything else to show. But this is the 52nd week of Lingerie is for Everyone and so I feel I must join in. My show off, flaunt it self demands it.

So, I give you a photo taken for February Photofest 2017. This is one of my favourite sets and while I have thrown out some of the lingerie I doubt I’ll wear again, I very much would like to be seen in this set again. When I manage it, you’ll be the first to know.

Me wearing beautiful red lingerie. There is beading and lace on both bra and pants.

The reward

I’ve been looking for some inspiration to write some more erotica and here it is. This beautiful photo of Marie Rebelle for this week’s Masturbation Monday. This is the first time I’ve written from the point of view of a man. So I’ll be interested in comments. Based as always on my own experiences, though not a single event. I’ve also taken the opportunity to use some Big Sexy Words.

Photo: Marie Rebelle, Rebel’s Notes

I watched from the doorway as she positioned herself, on the bed. Kneeling, legs apart, two thirds of the way down, arms outstretched in front, she leaned forward until her back formed a smooth straight line. Now in a state of repose, body relaxed and still. The blue panties, formed a perfect frame, separating her arse cheeks and the gab between. Her beautiful, smooth, tanned skin was lambent, almost inviting my caress. Her pink, shaved cunt seemed to be calling me to touch it. My cock indurated in response. I heard someone take a sharp intake of breath, only to realise that someone was me.

When I see Jess in this position, waiting for me as I’ve instructed it takes me back to those early days of our D/s relationship when we were exploring roles. The surge of power I feel when she takes that submissive pose is like an electric shock. It galvanises me and excites me, not only physically but mentally too. Such was the case today.

I stepped into the room and standing at the end of the bed leaned forward. ‘ready pet’? I asked. She didn’t speak, but a slight nod of her head provided affirmation. My fingers stroked the lace of her panties and traced a line around her cheeks. Leaning in further I placed a series of light kisses over her cool bottom. My fingers moved down to feel the top of her sexy fishnet stockings, then back to trace a line along her panties. This time the gasp came from the top of the bed.

A smile spread over my lips, and I began to nibble her flesh, taking small areas gently between my teeth. Next I placed my hands on her back and gentley massaged above the panty line. ‘are you wet, pet’? I asked as I slid a finger under the blue silk and ran it down between her legs. Her cunt was slick to the touch and clitoris already standing proud.

My cock strained against my boxers and a little pre-come emerged from the tip, making them damp. I wanted to take my pet, to penetrate her highly fuckable cunt, maybe her arse. But first there was the small matter of her reward. The flogging and caning I’d promised her. After all she had been such a good pet this week. Because in this house, impact play is a reward not a punishment.

So, standing upright I turned and reached for the first of the implements I’d laid out and picked out a soft flogger. Then, starting at the top of her spine I ran it slowly down her back before taking aim at her perfectly formed arse. “Thank you Sir” Came her immediate response. This was going to be a fun and fulfilling afternoon. At that point I wasn’t sure whose behaviour was being rewarded.

Big Sexy Words used:

  • Lambent – glowing, gleaming or flickering with soft radiance,
  • Galvanise – to shock or excite into action
  • Indurate – to harden
  • Repose – a state of calm relaxation or contemplation