In The Mood

It is a while since I followed one of the sccwriting prompts. They can be found here.

Submission and sex

There is no doubt in my mind, or indeed Master’s that my submission and sexuality go hand in hand. I am at my most submissive when we are having sex. This is, I think, because when we are having sex I am able to let go of everything else in my mind and just be. I can live in the moment, and when I do that my submission comes to the fore. At the same time, Master’s dominance is most pronounced when he is aroused. That is not to say that our M/s relationship is confined to the bedroom, or indeed playroom. Since that is the other place when my submission is in profound evidence. There are undercurrents all of the time, but they are subtle and not overt. 

Tasks when in the mood for sex

Tasks and rules come more easily to me when I am in the mood for sex, that is definitely true. Calling him Master and myself this girl come automatically and I feel I am pretty much under his spell. During sex and play, I could easily comply with any thing asked of me. As a slave, I have no specific limits, I implicitly trust him to keep me safe and I willingly submit to him. 

Interestingly, since we have been living together, I have begun to regain the ability to relax and allow him to take control much more of the time. In the past I always had to retain responsibility for a large proportion of my life. Recently the need for this has receded and it is now only things to do with my family that I retain control. I see that in the future, my submission will grow and develop and become more evident outside of the bedroom.

Not feeling it

There are plenty of times when one or other of us doesn’t feel the M/s side of our lives. Sometimes that happens at the same time. Since our relationship is strong, I don’t see this as a problem. We are not robots, we are living human beings with feelings and needs. Together we can always work through them.

Breaking the rules

What is your attitude to rules? Do you follow them completely? Do you bend them? Are they there to be broken?

I struggle with the whole concept of rules. On one hand we need laws to ensure people understand what is considered right and wrong. That there are punishments for committing murder, theft, rape etc. But the problem is people love to make rules and even laws for their own sake. Often these seem to be for the purpose of exercising power over others.  Laws relating to sex seem to be for this very purpose. I find it abhorrent that for so long it was illegal for people of the same sex to express their love for each other, have relationships and enjoy sex. Also that women couldn’t terminate unwanted pregnancies. For so many people in the world these things are still illegal and even here where they are not, stigma and taboo remain.

Do you have any self-imposed rules that you live your life by? Do you ever break these?

My personal rules relate to the things I feel are morally right. They relate to respecting others, to being kind and considerate. But also I try not to break some of the more obvious rules of society and laws of the land. I try to treat others as I would want to be treated. I try to stick to the speed limit and to do what I can to help my mum and others that need me. Sometimes though things don’t go so well. I can be intolerant of others, especially those who seem to want to waste time, people that are not prepared, and those who are down right rude. There are times when I can be short tempered and impatient and then I am inclined to forget the rules. 

Within your relationship, are there rules you abide by? Who sets these? Have you ever broken them and, if so, was it deliberate? What are the consequences of rule breaking in this context?

As a consensual slave in a M/s relationship there are rules. We have tried ones that were agreed and written down, but neither of us were very good at them. For me, us living apart meant that some of them were tricky to stick to all of the time and for him, informing them was too much trouble. 

So really our rules are about respect and remembering who has the last word. They are about honesty, about telling him everything and not bottling things up. For us, rules are about me allowing him to take control and being happy when he does. The main rule is that his decision is final. Probably for us that is enough.

Longing

After almost 2 months of living with Master i find myself far away from him, on holiday with my mum. Suffice to say, I am missing him. This post is about the things I am longing for

To begin with I was worried that I had lost something of my identity, that caring role I both love and despise. But very soon we settled into our own new routine of cooking, eating and clearing up together. In my previous life, I decided what to cook prepared it and then cleared away. This life is different already, those decisions are being made and enacted together. This may seem like nothing, but in my experience it paves the way for much much more. Evenings spent together snuggled on the sofa watching TV, or sitting separately reading, discussing current affairs or listening to music, lost in our own world.

I am missing that feeling of closeness and easy silence. But also the sex, the kink and erotic times that are ever present in our lives. Sleeping in a single bed and waking up next your mother just doesn’t feel the same. I long to feel his body pressing against my back as I stir in the early morning stillness. I want to feel his cock grow and harden as it pushes against my lower back. His hand resting on my breast. To know he is awake because he has stroked me or squeezed a nipple.

I long to hear his voice, to ask ‘did girl sleep well?’ To see his eyes gleam when I tell him I need to pee. Knowing he wants to watch, or even have me pass my gold onto his body as he sits in the bath. I miss the way Master seems to be reading a business article online, but them starts to wank himself and when I lean in to see, he has switched to porn. Sometimes when I lay pretending to sleep he is wanking, irritatingly shaking the bed. I like to complain he is stopping me sleeping. He laughs and tells me he is getting ready to service his girl. How I would love to be used by him today.

I want to feel his hands on my body, his fingers exploring my holes, his tongue on my clit. To know his cock is rubbing against my piercing. That little jolt of almost pain as he pushes into my tight cunt. I would love those things right now.

Instead I am here, on a sunbed in Cyprus while my lover is at home. The brownie points I am earning from my mum mean though that when I get home we will hopefully be left in peace. For at least a little while. In a few days, the longing will be over and I will be in his arms. Them I may well fleetingly wish to be back here, in the sun. But perhaps with him!

Some day

So many things that I wanted to do have become reality. The fact that Master and I are living together, that we have the time to do the things we want together is wonderful. Last weekend we attended our third CMnf – Clothed Male, naked female – event. This time I was so relaxed about everything that I had no hesitation in getting stripped off straight away. I wore nothing all afternoon other than a lovely chain harness that we bought at BBB a few weeks ago. I love the way it frames my breasts – there will definitely need to be a photo on the blog soon. 

But this week I have had cause to reflect on the concept of waiting to do things ‘some day’s versus getting on and doing them now. For two years Master and I spent time working on my house and garden. I know this because over the past couple of months  numerous posts have reappeared on Facebook. Repairing the shed, painting fences, decluttering, painting walls. The same with women, for a long time I knew I had had enough but that moving house and giving up work would have to happen around the same time.

Those things have now happened and our time is our own. Now we can plan for new dreams, a new some day. Well hopefully yes. But as I lay on a doctor’s couch on Tuesday having a lump in my breast biopsied, I did consider that perhaps we should now just do what we want when we want to. My dream of having more time to myself didn’t involve breast cancer treatment, and maybe it wont come to that. I will know next week.

I now wonder about the 2 years of procrastination, of doing things right for my ex. I wonder if I should have been harder faced and concentrated more on what we needed for us. There is no turning back, butmaybe a realisation that thinking you’ll do things some day is the wrong approach. If you can, do it now.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Lazy days and warm evenings

I had planned to write something yesterday to accompany my Sinful Sunday post. But having arrived home late on Saturday and then needing to leave for CMnf soon after midday, there wasn’t time. 

The trip to France was arranged to make some running repairs on the apartment. Owning property abroad seems glamorous, when in reality it can be expensive and stressful. This year the lady who was meeting guests and cleaning suddenly sent notice and so I was forced to cancel all my airbnb bookings. This has meant that the place has been empty for most of the summer. Now I’m no longer working, I need to consider whether to rent in the future or keep it for family, friends and us.

Summer in the south of France this year has been glorious and still is. By Monday lunchtime we had pretty much done what we wanted to do and over lunch hatched a plan to stay longer. A friend was arriving Sunday, so we just needed to lead before then (he already had the key). 

Once the new flights had been booked and the car hire extended we settled into a relaxed routine and did very little.

Lazy days

Morning sex is our thing. Master tends to be horny when he wakes and I can be easily persuaded. So after sleeping late and just luxuriating in not needing to get up, we had sex most mornings. On the surface this might seem quite vanilla in nature, often missionary. But there are always elements of Dominance and submission as well as restraint, nipple pinching, forced orgasms  and the like. We didn’t have toys with us and so used our hands and mouths to please and excite.

When finally we emerged from bed and showered we then spent time sitting out on the balcony over coffee and then lunch. Strolling out to the shop if necessary and then returning to our nest for the afternoon. I would stretch out on my sun bed and maybe take a swim. This all may seem a little dull, but it really wasn’t. It was the end product of 3 months and more of stress, packing, unpacking and general craziness. It was what we both needed.

Warm evenings

Most evenings we ate out. Strolling around the harbour area, or into the local village for dinner. It was lovely to be able to eat al fresco and to watch others either dining too or wandering around the area. It was good to be uninterrupted by normal everyday life but to interact when we needed and wanted to. 

The only real downside to the warm evenings was that we were feasted on by the local mosquitos (me more than him). We should have been better at spraying ourselves with repellant I know. But the bites will heal and fade, the memories of our lazy days and warm evenings will remain.

Our changing lifestyle

Friday 31st August was the last day in my job. I bought cakes and fruit for people in the office, went for lunch with colleagues and then sent my final emails. For the first time in my almost 38 year career I voluntarily walked from my workplace with no job to go to. 5 years ago I was made redundant, but within weeks I was working again. This time will be different, I am as yet undecided as to whether I want or need another job. What is more, I have made a deal with myself not to think about it until the new year.

This week we are in France. The weather is glorious, the days still a little longer than at home. We have nothing to do but be together and to remind ourselves of why we love just being together. On the spur of the moment we have extended our stay, because we can. We don’t need to be home till Sunday and neither of us has work or other responsibilities to pull us back yet.

The events of the last weeks – the move, winding down then leaving work – have sapped me of energy. I have struggled to feel sexy for my man even when he tells me how much he wants and needs me. I have slept alot this holiday and while awake Master has paid lots of attention to me and my body. Gradually I am beginning to feel human again and yes, a little horny. He asked me this morning how that manifests itself, and I had to think. It is a long time since I took the initiative, made it clear what I want. Now though maybe I am ready.

Our lifestyle to date has involved me working 4 days a week and spending those evenings alone at home, then us coming together for the weekend. Some Fridays I visit my mum and stay over. For months there has been work around the house, packing, decluttering. But now we have much more time to be together and make a life together.

What is clear is that certain elements of our M/s relationship which have been a little on the back burner will be able to come to the fore. We have been talking about our feelings, of ways in which his dominance and my submission is important to us. This is an evolving picture and something I will express here on my blog over the coming days, weeks and months. What I know is, for the first time I am putting me, our relationship and importantly Him first from now on.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Black bra

This afternoon, given the cool and wet weather we decided to sort out some of my clothes. Since I moved in with Master a month ago, the weather has generally been pretty warm and dry. Over the past week there has been a gradual deterioration until today it is dull, cool and very wet. With the change in seasons waiting around the corner there was a need to unpack more clothes. Plus a couple of trips away in the next few weeks mean that I will need to free up some luggage. 

The first bag I unpacked contained underwear. As I sorted through the bras, Master picked out this lovely black number. He was interested to understand when I bought it, and if I had ever worn it, since it is padded. To be honest, it fits him better than me. And to answer his questions, I don’t know and probably never. 

He looks amazing and what’s more he loved wearing it and put his shirt back on, over the top. Next we found a couple of leather bras Master bought me, but which I have rarely worn. Of course I slipped into one of them and also the fetching collar you can see me wearing below.

Me wearing a leather bra and collar with the words bitch.

That’s pretty much all the unpacking we did today, since one thing led to another and we retired to bed. I am not sure that some of the other unpacking we still need to do will be quite so much fun, but you never know.

Sinful Sunday

The rediscovery of my submission

Master reminded me on Friday night that we have hardly used my birthday present from last year.  For various reasons I have ridden this beautiful toy only once or twice. It’s purchase dates back to my experiences at the Secret Dungeon a few months before for his birthday. I could never have imagined just how much fun you could have fucking a machine. While the one at the secret dungeon was a sybian, more sophisticated, not to mention automated, this one relies on the user to do the work.

The fucking machine

Back to Friday night. I hadn’t realised quite how turned on I was just discussing the fact that we hadn’t used this fucking machine for several months. But by the time I had put the dildo in place, applied the condom and slid onboard I was pretty aroused. The dildo slid easily in and out of my  wet cunt as I moved backwards and forwards. As Master stood over me, playing with my nipples, sucking me and pinching I knew an orgasm wasn’t far away. 

He stroked my clit and counted down and I came to his demand. Sliding a finger into may arse, he demanded another and more. “Whose slut are you?” 

“This girl is Master’s slut”

The magic words came easily to my mouth. After months of me and I suddenly it was about ‘this girl’ about ‘His pleasing bitch’, ‘slave’. He became Lord and Master, the words falling from easily my tongue During sex I never have problems remembering who I am, of saying what is expected, but somehow this was different. It was as if for months ‘this girl’ had been sitting outside of my body, watching as I went about my crazy life. All at once she crashed into Julie and a submissive was awoken. All of a sudden I was telling Master that more control was needed, that I was proud to be his slave and wanted more of this. More sex, more orgasms, more time on the sex machine. But also rules. More, much more time remembering I am a slave. His slave.

This girl going forward

Today, sober (we had drunk quite a bit of wine) but also not high on the endorphins of recent orgasms I have had time to reflect. After 4 years as Master’s slave it feels as if I am starting from scratch. Learning again what it means to be his property, not just in bed or on a fucking machine, but in everything. 

The machine seems a good leveller. I defy anyone to strip naked, sit on the dildo and begin to rock while their Dominant watches and not feel the need to concentrate. I remember looking up at him as he stood naked in front of me, stroking his cock. I remember him asking me over and over again to repeat who I am, who he is. I remember the feeling of submission sweeping over me and I remember asking for the magic wand. For a different kind of orgasm. 

Life is not all about sex and fucking machines. It isn’t all about Dominance and submission but in this relationship those things are important. Very likely increasingly so. For us, this toy may enable us to get back to being the people we need to be and on a daily basis. Please.

Journey’s end?

This journey

Yesterday I had some time to sit and think about my blog. About the journey I began over 6 years ago when I started writing. I pondered whether that path had reached its conclusion. At the beginning I had no idea where I was going, if anywhere. All I knew was that I needed something different in my life. Something more than I had then. I understood this was to be a journey and thought I would know when I had arrived.

The two relationships that were in place back then are history. Extracting myself from my marriage of 30+ years has proved harder than I imagined. That journey has been painful and emotionally draining. But he is now happily living in what was our home with his (not so) new partner. Recently I attended his mum’s funeral and saw them together. It was clear that they have a strong relationship, something he denied to me for a long time.

Last night I mentioned to Master that I wasn’t sure about continuing this blog, because my journey is complete. But is that true? For him, my moving in to his home as his 24/7 slave has greater meaning than I understood.

Being his Slave

Over the past few months I had almost forgotten about that element of our relationship. Of course, I wear my collar and cuff and my piercings are a constant physical reminder. Our sex life is always a reminder of the M/s nature of our relationship. But during the busy and very hot days of June and July we didn’t have loads of sex. Preparations to move meant we spent lots of time at my place, but we were busy and everything we did was about working towards the move.

The first week or two were a period of adjustment but gradually we are settling into something of a routine. Only now though am I able to see the subtle changes that are coming to be. Even as I considered whether I wanted to write my blog any more, even as I uttered the words about the journey, I knew.

Over the past couple of years being Master’s slave has in the main been about what we do in the bedroom or play room. Not about our every day life. I am, as he often tells me an unruly slave. Rebellious, open with my thoughts and feelings, often pushing back against any attempt to control me. That’s easy when you have your own home and don’t live together. Also when you are financially secure and don’t need to rely on another.

Now though things will be different and what I have discovered is that he is excited by this. He loves the fact I am here with him, he wants to have more control over me. Also that I will be more financially dependent on him (though I have my own money and may yet get another job). He enjoys taking care of me, cooking and so forth. I also want to take care of him, and find my submissive self reawakening.

We had some very hot sex last night and again this morning. It is often during those moments of heightened arousal and passion that the truth is spoken. I clearly saw in myself, particularly last night a need I had forgotten existed. Over the coming weeks I fully expect to need to articulate this much more. What better place to do so than here on my blog.

The end of the journey? I don’t think so.