Weekend

New Rule: "You may give yourself pleasure when I'm out of town. You need to send me a picture."

This weekend has been a good weekend. Master left for an out of town trip early Saturday morning. We spent a good evening together, not really doing anything but catching up on a couple of recorded shows. Just being close to Him felt good. I know that for us, sex is an important component to our relationship. It isn't just about "getting off," but it continually brings us closer together. It's a renewal of commitment. In my HNT post, i jokingly referred to "boring same old being tied up and gagged" sex. Routine can become boring, i think. Sometimes it's good to switch things around even though the emotional connection that occurs for me when we are intimate never is boring. We do tend to have a routine for the daily sex. Well, around here we have sex multiple times during a day because we both have very high sex drives and it's, well, important. Maybe it's a quick fondle here or there, or my kneeling and worshipping His cock for a moment or two. But we do have a routine: before bed and before getting up and usually something slipped in between then. Usually it starts with my sucking on Him and progresses to a standard repertoire of positions and actions. No complaints; that's what we enjoy, which is why it's like this.


Perhaps what made things better Friday night was that we had an off Thursday night and Friday morning. Master didn't have to work Thursday, and we had the entire morning to ourselves. After quite a bit of fun having me frolic around as His little puppy, i headed to bed with unmentioned expectations Thursday night. Sex fizzled into rolling over and going to sleep (next to Him). I think the cause was a lack of communication. Master tried something He doesn't often do, something which i have very much enjoyed in the past but haven't known how to process in the context of our M/s relationship. I was feeling selfish and worrying that He was not really getting pleasure from it. That in turn led to a decreased response on my part and His frustration by it. I had to process in my little brain why i was having such a reaction. After a discussion and sleep and a day without any sexual play, my mind and body came to an agreement.


Master is always dominant, the Top, in our sexual lives. It doesn't matter what He does or what He asks me to do, He is the top. When i am riding Him, He is still dominant. When He is focusing on pleasuring this body, He is still "topping." When He asks me to choose what to do, He is still in charge. Master enjoys a slave who is a thinking slave, one who learns His preferences and can act without His having to command her all the time. He continually tells me what a strong woman i am. Remembering all of this, i decided to offer up some suggestions Friday night. And so while He was in the bathroom getting ready for bed, i was in the bedroom putting on my cuffs and attaching my ankles to the spreader bar. I also chose a butt plug from the toy box and the leather paddle. We didn't end up having super kinky sex, we didn't have a fuck fest, but we got back in sync.


He didn't leave me a list of things to do while He's gone. He entrusts the care of our home to me. I have been a busy little beaver getting to several projects that just kept being pushed back. I have been indulging the "service slave" part of me. This is part of my submission to Him. He is perfectly capable of taking care of Himself, but He allows me to serve and give to Him. My skills, talents, mind, and opinions are highly valued by Master. However, He is still the Dominant. There will always be rough spots and bad days, but with work they can bring us closer and strengthen our relationship and ourselves.

Friday Fantasy: Blossoms and Ballgag, An Original Erotic Short Story

Sunlight streamed through the slats in the blinds. The breeze fluttered through the branches of the budding cherry tree, sending a small pink shower of blossoms to the still damp grass.

She, however, saw none of this. Noticed none of the signs of an early spring. She felt only the cords tightening around her wrists, securely binding them together. Was only aware of the softness of the flannel against her bare skin and the familiarity of her leather cuffs as her legs strained against the rope that kept her tied to the bedposts. She wrinkled her nose against the blindfold to relieve the tingly itch she could not scratch, out of habit licking the divot in the smooth ball that gagged her mouth. She felt the bed move slightly, anticipation increasing her pulse. Before she felt the warmth of His flesh, she caught His scent. She raised her head toward Him, breathing deeply. The leather softly scraped her cheek as He removed the gag.  Extending her tongue she felt Him.  Finally.  Took Him into her mouth. He was nearly flaccid, allowing her to feel the delightful softness, the pliable member as she kneaded and caressed Him with her tongue and lips. As she drew Him into her mouth, she felt Him enlarge, expanding against her throat, pushing against the insides of her cheeks. She held Him there, letting Him grow, letting Him fill her, using her tongue to caress the sensitive skin below the head. Savoring Him. Salivating with desire, mouth too full to swallow, saliva dripped down of the side of her mouth, down her cheek to the sheets. Gently, firmly, forcefully, He held her head in between His hands, thrusting slowly in and out of her mouth, pushing further down her throat. The "magic wand" between her bound hands buzzed between her legs, and she realized she was moving her hips to His rhythmic thrusting. And then He was gone. Her mouth was empty. She heard His stroking, the wetness from her mouth providing Him lubricant and her sound. Faster and faster; she recognized the pace. The bed shook with His movements. The wand vibrated, slipping in the moisture that always gushed forth when she was allowed to suck Him.   He pushed Himself between her lips, and she opened her throat to receive His entire girth and length.  Opened to receive His thrusts.  Then, once more, her mouth was empty. She kept it open, waiting. Anticipating.  A drop fell onto her tongue. She heard His breathing, more intense, felt His hand gripping her breast, the other guiding Himself between her waiting lips. He filled her mouth, shuddering in fulfillment.  Her body trembling, she held her mouth open, cupping His fluid with her tongue.  Showing Him the creamy liquid.  She felt His body lower next to hers, His breath against her ear as He whispered those words that would push her over the edge as she maneuvered the wand. She climaxed, swallowing every drop. Permission granted, she climaxed again, her mouth and throat still tingling from His presence.

The soft cords loosed, the wand turned off and removed, He slowly pulled the blindfold from her eyes.  She blinked and squinted in the sunlight, smiling in contentment.

But even now the spring-like afternoon remained unnoticed, for she closed her eyes as He pulled her close to Him and they drifted into sleep.

sex

Last week was spent having sex. Except for Master's going to work, almost all we did was have sex, sleep and eat. So much that we lost track of how many times.

Looking at the clock, which read 1:30 p.m., i asked, "Master, is this the fourth or fifth time today?"

"Fourth, slave girl. No, wait, I forgot about the 3:00 a.m."

For us, regular sex is, well, regular. Once or twice or three times a day is not uncommon. But last week, Master wore His slave girl out.

 Cleaning Master - Finishing the way we started