The Bracelet

A hopelessly romantic fantasy of submission but this one is all mine.

“Your Mistress commands you wear this until you are with me again.” was all the note said.

Matthew looked at the contents of the envelope; one handwritten note and a simple black friendship band. He regarded it doubtfully.
‘At least it is subtle’ he thought. Tying it on his wrist was a tricky problem and involved the use of teeth but at last he got it fastened. He turned his wrist this way and that regarding the symbol of his bondage and then pushed it up under his cuff.

On the way into the office he was uncomfortably aware of the extra weight, although tiny, on his wrist. He found his eyes flicking to it as he drove.
“Still, if Mistress demands it” he reflected.

His morning was occasionally distracted by the presence of the bracelet on his wrist. He looked at it curiously wondering whether Rowena had made it herself, and as he thought of her and of seeing her that night a gentle smile fell across his face.
“Nice bracelet”, he looked up, startled, from his reverie as Marie from finance stood by his desk.
“Er, yes, thank you”, he muttered discomforted. Self consciously he tugged his shirt sleeve down to cover the friendship band up and hide the all too visible reminder of his submission.

In the afternoon he found his fingers running over it gently, turning about his wrist. A tiny link to his Mistress, loved but distant. He was her Boy, even here in the middle of his busy day.

Later, at home, he regarded it doubtfully as he stripped naked to have a shower.
‘Until you are with me’ the note had said. He left it on.

It survived unscathed, only a little damp, and he turned his wrist looking at it while he pondered what to wear to meet his Mistress. He pulled out a short sleeve shirt, as it was a warm night, and assessed his image in the mirror critically. The band simple and unobtrusive, yet marking him as an owned Boy, a possession, a plaything, Rowena’s. He was unaware of the pleasure in his face as he hurried out to meet her.

The bar they were meeting at was crowded. She was sitting at a table by herself. She had come straight from work and looked a little tired. Her face transformed as she saw him.
“Matthew”, she smiled with delight. “My Boy” she added quietly as she gestured him into the chair. She held out her hand imperiously and he put his wrist into it, the bracelet clearly on display.
“Good Boy”, her praise was sweet.

Later, much later, he found himself, naked, sore, kneeling at her feet, his head to the floor. Rowena stood over him, all tiredness vanished, refreshed by each moment she had used him, hurt him, played with him.
“Up Boy”, she lifted his head until he was looking up at her. She took his hand and stroked the bracelet knotted around it.
“Shall I release you from this now?”, she asked him gently.

He looked up at her adoringly, “No Mistress, please let me wear it”.

 

Light Bondage

I keep a list of possible photo shoots to do with my boy. Some of them are waiting for the right location, a particular prop or just for the opportunity.

I met Mat in a pub. It was only the second time we’d met and we admired the rope light strung around the balustrade. At that point I thought how beautiful it would look wrapped around someone. It became the first item on my list.

Somehow though we’ve never found the time to do that shoot until now. For me it has been well worth waiting for.

Here are some pictures of my beautiful boy wrapped in light.

Playing Again – Tied

After our puppy play at the party I wanted a nice gentle moment and this was it.

I’m a new Domme and many things are slightly intimidating to me; one of those is rope. This is a new interest for me, mainly because as a submissive I’ve never understood the appeal of it; somehow it’s quite different when I’m the one doing the tying.

I might, ironically, have discovered this fact sooner if my boy wasn’t such an avowed rope bunny. When faced with a submissive who has been suspended by experts, as a Domme whose knowledge of rope largely involved learning knots as a Girl Guide a long time ago, it’s much easier to avoid the (it feels) inevitable criticisms and simply not attempt tying him up.

So somehow as a first serious attempt to get over that barrier, I decided to do this in public, where I knew several of the people present were rope experts whose skills I had already admired shyly from afar. What was I thinking?

Well, I did cheat slightly by making sure I was in another room from most of the party, with better lighting and less audience. Still nobody, not even my boy, intervened or told me I was doing it wrong and while it may not have been stylish (I will learn to do it better in future) I soon had my boy sitting cross-legged with his hands bound behind his back and his ankles fastened together.

This was only the beginning of my game though. I blindfolded him with a nice soft scarf and proceeded to enjoy touching him. I used my hands and a variety of objects mostly softly and gently although, yes, I may have bitten his nipples just a bit.

When I’d done with touching him I untied his ankles but before releasing his wrists I stood over him and pressed my pussy into his face. Head back he licked and sucked me through my panties while I held the rope binding his wrists. This was a moment I absolutely loved; it felt sexy and very powerful. Eventually I untied his wrists too so that he could lie down and I could enjoy sitting on his face for a little longer before rejoining the main room.

Taken Into The Garden

This, it appears, is what I end up thinking when I spend time in the garden.

I am stripped naked, exposed to my master’s gaze. My wrists tightly bound in rope. Dragged helplessly outside to be fastened in place, my wrists above me, defenseless. My body pressed against the brickwork, it’s roughness scraping my skin. I am whipped, head back, screaming. Begging for mercy.

Cut down, my hands still tied, thrown to the ground, raped for my master’s pleasure. His hands parting my thighs, his cock thrusting inside me. Pounding into me with his lust.
I am covered with his cum, its stickiness spread over my flesh. Its taste in my mouth, forced there by insistent fingers.
I am hosed clean where I lie. Writhing beneath the jets of water, until I am clean, and cold, sobbing and submissive.

I am his slut and he treats me like one.

Surprised

Rowena arrived home from work to find her husband already waiting for her. He opened the front door for her, and after a welcoming kiss, ushered her into the house.

“Come with me” Bryan instructed.
She protested that there were things to do, but Bryan was adamant.
“I’ve ordered pizza, and before it arrives I want to have some fun.”

Continue reading “Surprised”

Left at Home

This is what I think about when I’m home alone.

“I have to go out tonight” he tells her as sits on the edge of the bed fastening his shoes, “but I will be thinking about you”.

She watches him sceptically. He will be having fun, with no reason to think about her. She knows however, that she will be missing him.

“Get your collar” he commands suddenly.

Continue reading “Left at Home”