Collared

In our recently new found enthusiasm, Perrin and I decided to buy some new toys. We’d not looked very far before we came across a leather goods site which we simply couldn’t pass by without buying something. After much admiration we decided on impulse to buy a collar and some cuffs, and placed an order.

Perrin has never put a collar on me. Our bdsm play has always been implicitly negotiated, starting and ending in a fairly ad hoc manner.  It tends to the informal; playing punctuated by random side comments and discussion. Not that it can’t get quite focused, the whipping this weekend being an example of an impulsive moment which worked perfectly.

I have however worn a collar before. My ex, who we’ll call Sam, gave it to me.

My submissive fantasies have been with me all my life, but I had never given them expression. Sam and I were involved in a long distance vanilla relationship. Occasional weekends of intense sexual activity followed by long periods apart. On one of these weekends he loaned me the first Gor novel by John Norman. I read it, and wrote him a long letter (essay) discussing the story and it’s plausibility for real human relationships. The short version probably goes ‘It’s completely unrealistic but there are some great ideas in there’.

Sam clearly understood what I was saying, because he turned up to see me next with a collar and proceeded to collar me as his slave girl by candlelight getting me to sign (in retrospect) a slightly ridiculous contract. When he left he instructed me to wear my collar in bed every night; which of course I did.

Looking back I remember how seriously I took that collar. When it was on, I was totally focused on being submissive and obedient. I felt owned, and safe. For me to wear a collar is to be submissive. But a submissive without a Master is a sad thing. It was Sam’s attention that made it valuable, his exercising of control that made it meaningful. Later of course we lost all that, but that is another story.

I came home today to be greeted at the door by Perrin. Without warning, he fastened my newly arrived collar on me and proceeded to play with me, including walking me around the house on my leash (it matches the collar – it’s pretty) and fucking me on the dining table (for the first time in ages).

Then he chained me up by my collar and left me. I considered for a while and decided that I could move myself to a more comfortable spot within the confines allowed by the chain.

When he returned he was instantly angry and punished me for having moved, even though he hadn’t told me I wasn’t allowed to. It felt so unfair, and I’m pleased with myself for not talking back to him then; without the collar on, I would have objected loudly, I’m sure. Still it left me unsettled, and we ended up discussing it while he was rewarding me with my orgasm, which felt all wrong to me, still in my collar. I don’t think collared girls ought to criticise their Masters, even if they’re wrong! *grin*

So here I am, feeling we have some way to go to define what a collar means to us; but we have made a start.

Making your mark

Making your mark
Making your mark

Long ago, before Caitlin’s disappearance (metaphorically) due to the mini-pill, we had had spanking sessions, and such like, though I’d never really got the whole D/s thing until recently. I’d played the part, but its only with Caitlin’s reappearance that I’ve appreciated the full nature of my wife, and how being submissive is important to her.

We recently re-watched Secretary, and (surprisingly for a Hollywood film) it really brought home to me how strong submissives are.  D/s is not strength / weakness.

So, I’d never whipped Caitlin enough to leave a mark, and I though I’d better correct this. These were made with a wound up tea towel, it was surprising effective, especially with the buusiness end dipped in water.

I can’t begin to describe how proud I am for her to remain standing while I made them.

Fighting and Making Up

Yesterday was an ordinary day. It might have been considered a vanilla day, except that I had something on my mind. You see, Perrin has been giving me challenges. Commands that stretch beyond the bedroom door (figuratively that is; he’s not limited to location when it comes to demanding sexual favours) and require courage on my part to complete.

They’re not necessarily hard as such, but they have been chosen carefully to test me and my limits, so they’re things which are hard for me. The previous one was rolling in the snow. I know being expected to roll naked in the snow could be viewed in the bedroom category by some; but I can’t feel erotic and cold at the same time, I HATE being cold.

The next one might be considered easier, but it was something I had to do by myself and I had a time limit of Sunday night. I spent yesterday agonising over it, and started writing a post which tried to explain my difficulty in obeying. By the time I’d reflected on the apprehension I’d felt looking out at the snow, and how I had made a desperate rush through the door and forced myself to lie straight down in the snow without thinking, I knew the same approach was needed here, and I found myself  completing my task.

For me then, I was feeling highly submissive that day. Our originally stated plans for the evening had involved some play, and I was so ready for that, but that evening Perrin was distracted by other matters. They were important too, and I happily sat by while he worked, assuming I would get his attention later. I didn’t get it though, and when he finally suggested that it was bed time in a way that made it quite clear that bed meant ‘sleep’ I was desolate. I went up to bed and curled up miserably.

He came up, and curled up behind me but without his body really touching mine, and then he asked if I was ok.

Light the blue touch-paper and retire…

Was I ok? Well, if he’d made any kind of real contact with me then yes, I might have been. But right then, with him so distant that he COULDN’T TELL if I was ok, I felt the answer was no. So we descended into a very emotionally charged discussion with me trying to explain, without actually saying that I had wanted to be submissive to him, because quite frankly the idea of saying ‘Ok, dominate me now’ is too ridiculous and unrewarding to contemplate.

I hate arguing with Perrin. It’s painful for both of us, and utterly pointless because I love him so much, and even when I’m getting angry with him I’m vividly aware that eventually we will make up, and I will forgive him no matter how unforgivable the hurt feels in that instant.

So fast forward to us lying close together, my head on his chest, making up and discussing the problem constructively.  I swallow my pride and ask how I can express my submissiveness to him when I need him to know how I feel.

He tells me I can come and kneel beside him, eyes down, hands behind my back and wait for his touch on my shoulder to acknowledge me.

His answer is comforting, and arousing. I move my hand across his body and realise that he has an erection. I’m reminded that my submission excites him, and I feel suddenly nervous at my vulnerability to him. He kisses me savagely, a dominant’s kiss, his tongue and teeth claiming my mouth. I am aware of his strength, and my own helplessness to resist him.

He commands me to suck his cock, and I sink gratefully down to take it into my mouth. I endeavour to take all of him in, gagging myself with his length, my tongue seeking to please him. I love the feel of him, the taste of him. I focus on the moment, with no other thought than to give him pleasure.

Suddenly he is pulling me away, and ordering me on to my back. I lie there, legs open and knees up and he plunges into me without hesitation. He is pounding into my cunt, each stroke to its full depth, his body slapping against mine with the force of his thrusts. I am utterly overwhelmed by the rhythm of his body, aware that he is claiming me as his own. His passion is unrelenting, and I am distantly aware of the bed protesting the motion. Suddenly his breathing changes, and I hear and feel his orgasm as he explodes within me.

All is resolved.

It was a Beginning

Well, we couldn’t write here without names  to describe ourselves by and I’ve been asked (told) to write something to explain what we’ve chosen.

A long time ago we started reading a nearly endless series of books by Robert Jordan called The Wheel of Time. They’re good books. Well the first three or so are, after that they descend into a lot of waffle and not much actual action. Although actually there is a surprising amount of spanking. Women seem to regularly find themselves being spanked by someone throughout the books, but I digress (or perhaps not).

Then when we came to get married we needed some wedding vows. This proved a huge challenge trying to find something romantic, but not too sickly. Then we remembered Perrin and Faile’s wedding in the Wheel of Time and the words fit.

“I do pledge you my love for as long as I live. What I possess in this world I give to you. I will keep and hold you, succor and tend you, protect and shelter you, for all the days of my life. I am yours, always and forever.”

HNT – Playing in the snow

Caitlin was complaining about how I never took photographs of her nude anymore.

If you’ve read the first few posts, you’ll understand how our love life had taken rather a nosedive, and this was linked to it. Its hard to think creatively about someone you admire, if they are not responding to your advances. Certainly for me, for my wife.

Happily this has recently changed, and she’s much more the woman I fell in lust with (and love, but that never went away).

So to celebrate HNT and our rediscovered feelings, I told her to roll in the snow while I took some photographs.

Enjoy!

Caitlin in the snow
Caitlin in the snow

Equilibrium

A while ago we watched ‘Equilibrium’. It’s a film set in a bleak future where emotion is forbidden and people are forced to take drugs to suppress their feelings. Clearly the film presents this as a bad situation, but ironically I hadn’t realised just how bad it could be.

Some time ago I started taking the mini pill. In many ways this was an excellent thing. Apart from the contraceptive benefits it also completely suppressed my periods; which were sometimes very uncomfortable. I remember reading the accompanying leaflet and expressing distress at the possible ‘changes in sex drive’. On taking it though, it seemed fine. After taking it for a month I did suspect it had lowered my libido a little but I’m pretty highly sexed normally so there seemed little harm.

I assumed that was that. But although you age a little every day, you never notice it in the mirror in the morning. So bring us up to a few months ago, and our sex life had dropped off almost entirely. When we tried to talk about it, I figured it must be the classic ‘not enough foreplay’ but somehow I could never respond enthusiastically. I dread to think how long this situation might have continued had I not developed other side effects (itching) which made intercourse actually uncomfortable as opposed to merely unexciting.

We went to see a doctor, who after taking a good look, suggested that the problem might be caused by the pill and suggested I come off it. I could see my husband’s face freeze instantly, he was not keen on this idea, but we had nothing else to try.

Even so it took a few weeks before I decided to stop taking it; but after all, I could always start again if it didn’t help. After four days the itching was almost gone, and then, the most amazing thing, I found my pussy was damp. It was a bit like hitting puberty again. I was amazed. I was astonished that I had forgotten that my body used to do that. And then, really like puberty, I kissed my husband and ‘Whoosh’! Talk about a sudden rush of lust. I’d forgotten how it felt, simply to kiss. I really fancy this man!

I rediscovered sex a bit like a traveller in the desert discovering water, drinking thirstily, desperately. Then to my continued surprise, following naturally on, came my submissive feelings, pouring back into me, and I felt suddenly whole. Myself again.

Looking back though, I feel angry. Angry that nobody warned me this could happen, that the pill could steal my enjoyment and lust away, slowly and stealthily. Angry for me, but most of all for my husband. I denied him everything I promised to give him so long before; not simply my body, but my pleasure, my enthusiasm for him and for all that we can do together.

I am still amazed that he bore that time so patiently, still loving and generous, never angry or resentful with me over my rejection of him.  I feel such sorrow that I could have hurt him so badly, even unwillingly. I don’t know how to get past that yet.

My renewed submission is now a continuation of something we started exploring, tentatively, so long ago, and I am grateful, that he has let me so readily return to joy.  Too, I am determined not to let him down. He has earned my devotion many times over, and I will repay in such currency as I have, and as he chooses *grin*.

New Year Views

Beginning is always the hardest part.

Life is ever-changing, and that is certainly the joy of it. As this year has rolled around, my life has rolled with it, and brought me to a place both old and new. To recognise my submissive nature, and to realise that it is truly part of who I am, and that I will not be at peace unless I can accept it.

This part of me, I have never been able to express clearly. This then is my chance to speak. To say what is easier in writing than spoken aloud, for He Who Listens to me. To tell someone how it feels to be me, even if there is no reply.

A place to explore the complexities of love and desire; with and for, the man who knows me so well, and gives me the freedom to be myself.