Time To Be Ourselves

Mat and I were invited to a party. It was an invitation which would at any point have been a thrill and a delight but this one was even more special for me. It was my first opportunity to play in public as a Domme.

The party started, as all parties do in the kitchen. There were drinks, food, social chit-chat. On the surface it might have appeared utterly vanilla and yet looking around, each couple’s D/s dynamic was faintly visible, subtle but present and yet unremarkable. My initial nerves began to subside aided admittedly by a gin and tonic.

The party moved to the lounge. I sat on the sofa and Mat arranged himself at my feet. I ran my hands through his hair. I looked at him and saw him utterly relaxed, I think he saw the same in me. Like the first breath after unlacing a corset, when you draw the air down to your diaphragm and expand your lungs fully, he and I simply were.

He was my submissive boy, my bitch, for the first time in public, where our relationship needed neither explanation or concealment.

Then, a simple thing and yet very intimate, I fetched his lead and slipped it over his head as he knelt at my feet. The first time I had done so in public, the first time anyone else had seen that moment. That in itself felt very intense.

The girl next to me on the sofa admired his lead (I think every girl commented on it at some point, it is very pink) but added, “he loves wearing it”. I had to agree; Mat was more content than I had ever seen him, a contentment I shared. I had never felt so completely and confidently his Domme.

The evening was not only special for us, however. The party included a collaring ceremony. It was, of course, the first time I had witnessed such a thing. I had had some idea what to expect but was completely blown away by the sheer emotion I saw. It was an intensely romantic ceremony and I felt incredibly privileged and honoured to have been witness to such a loving moment.

The evening continued as couples began to play. I felt unprepared to be observed but was happy to watch the activities around me, noting similarities and differences in play. The atmosphere was relaxed and accepting, intimate and warm.

Eventually I felt ready to quietly pull my boy onto the sofa and simply put him over my knee and spank him. I was still aware of people around me, afraid that I was being observed and criticised, but I focused my attention where it was needed, on Mat. His reactions, his pleasure, watching him lost in what we were doing, reassured my insecurities somewhat. This was us playing, our way.

I can’t begin to describe the intensity, the emotion that flowed all evening and I’m not even going to try to describe everything that happened; it was simply a wonderful party with wonderful people. We stayed up all night, never bored, never tired, enjoying the freedom and the atmosphere.

It was a delight simply to be ourselves.

I’m Polyamorous This Morning

I saw the interview about polyamory on This Morning yesterday and felt fairly disquieted. Certainly the presenters seemed sympathetic enough even if obviously bemused. The ‘relationship expert’ on the other hand was frankly dismissive and disapproving.

She was dismissive partly because the people concerned were all in their twenties, unmarried and childless. One felt she was saying very much “You’ll grow out of this and then regret it”. Perhaps they will. On the other hand, even if they later decide to ‘settle down’ into a monogamous marriage why should that mean that the choices they are making are wrong for them now?

Perrin and I have come at this from the other direction. Starting with the monogamous marriage and then opening out to include others in our lives. I don’t feel that monogamy has failed us, I was happily monogamous for a long time. Why then should polyamory be a failure even if it is not permanent? Why, too, assume that it will fail simply because it fails for some people? A significant percentage of marriages fail, yet no one (hopefully) says to a bride “it’ll end in tears”.

Indeed the lady in question’s attitude seemed to be largely ‘you’re going to get your comeuppance when you get hurt’. Certainly they will get hurt. Every relationship carries with it a certain amount of pain; engaging in more than one at once inevitably increases the potential of getting hurt. But then it increases the potential for joy too, it provides additional support to get one through difficulties and is incredibly rewarding.
I’m sure it’s not for everyone but then there are people who choose to live celibate lives and that’s not for everyone either. It would be lovely if everyone was free to choose the relationships which they desired for themselves without censure.

I found this interview a sad reminder of how many people would fail to understand our own choices, and some of those are people I really don’t want to hurt. Nevertheless it will go some way to raising the issue in some people’s minds, letting them start to question the model of relationships and perhaps one day leading to a little more understanding.
That can only be a good thing.

All credit too to the three brave ladies who kept their cool and put their points across calmly on national television. I’m suitably impressed.


Submission was demanded. I lay on the bed, face down, ass in the air as required. I felt slightly resentful, but knew that my obedience was not considered optional.

Perrin stood beside me. I’d broken a rule. A little thing, but as he told me I knew there was to be punishment. I listened to the sound of him removing his belt, and buried my face in the pillows, my hands clenched beneath my shoulders. When he began to beat me I hid inside my head. Counting the blows, curious how long he would continue. Wincing at the sharpest but struggling to stay still and quiet, to let the pain wash over me and away. I wondered at my lack of resistance. I was not in the mood for this I knew. There was no lustful delight, merely patient acceptance. I wondered if I should object, ask him, or even tell him to stop; but instead I stayed where I was, inside my head, letting my body bear his blows.

Then he paused, commanding me to count four more. The harshest, as I had known they would be.

I continued to lie quiescent, as he began to fuck me. Pushing my ass up to him as required. I could feel my pussy was wet, flooded, and yet I felt no sexual desire inside my head, merely submission to his will.

When he had finished I floated there, accepting. He began to play with me then, his fingers probing inside my cunt. A couple of times I felt a wave of pleasure, and I attempted to follow it to the orgasm I knew he desired for me. Still they passed away from me and I remained accepting, enjoying the sensations he provided for as long as he chose.

And I felt as though I could have remained there for hours. Accepting pain and pleasure with equal calmness. It wasn’t sexy, but it was submissive.


So these past few days I’ve been feeling pretty rough. Physically I’m fine, but emotionally I appear to have crashed into a complete mess.

This has been coupled with a real need for kink. Perrin suggested when I got my hair done that I would be more trouble now I was a red-head, and certainly I have been that.

I’ve oscillated between being good girl and bad girl (mostly bad). Searching for some kind of resolution.  I’ve certainly got a reaction. There has been loving support, discipline, and even sex. All of which are things I’ve thought I was looking for, and yet I haven’t felt (or behaved) any better.

Finally Perrin sat down with me this evening, and we talked some more about how I felt. Then with his usual knack of seeing the things I cannot, told me I was struggling with my submission. He is of course completely right.

There is an innate conflict between wanting to submit and the things that means giving up. While I love being owned by Perrin there is a pain to giving up control. The annoyance of being made to stand in the  corner when you want to curl up in bed, or of being denied the right to complain about Sir’s ‘unreasonable’ behaviour. It is a pain heightened by being thrown into an ordinary moment, when submission comes contrary to natural behaviour.

Of course, many people play without that dimension. Keeping D/s neatly in scenes with a beginning and an end.  Our relationship, by choice, is not so neatly compartmentalised.

All of which leaves me struggling to accept how I feel. Realising that I need to embrace my submission instead of fighting it. And writing this makes me feel better already.

New Year, Old Friends

After a lovely Christmas with my family, we had arranged to spend the new year with our oldest (and best friends). Its something we’ve been both looking forward to and dreading for some time. Looking forward to, because we hadn’t seen our friends in far too long, and dreading because, though they are our best friends, they knew nothing of our new(ish)ly discovered kink and polyamory.

So it was with much trepidation that we made the journey to their house. We had decided, you see, that we could not go on hiding this side of our lives from them.

Our friends were as lovely as they always are, and fed us a lovely meal, and provided much good wine. It was, much later into the evening (or was it morning by then?) until we could finally summon the courage to admit our new found sexual freedom.

The thing about Real Friends, though, is that they are understanding, both of your personal ups and downs, mistakes, and large surprises, such as coming out as poly.

We are very lucky to have such friends, especially those who we shared the new year with. We should have told them much sooner. Of course they would have understood 🙂