I’m in bed; a large bed with crisp white sheets. A hotel room bed…
…I hear gentle breathing and I look down to see my Boy curled up on the floor beside the bed. He is lying on his side, his knees slightly drawn towards his body. His feet are tied together and the rope loops up to his wrists tied behind his back from there it runs to the bed where I am holding it firmly. I can tug it and he reacts to the movement of his bonds.
Looking down I can see his cock, hard and proud, as he lies there in my rope. It is mine to demand when I wish it. He belongs to me.
For now though I will keep tight hold of the rope and drift back to sleep.
My Boy is beside me…
…I am a happy Mistress.
A slightly different surprise this Saturday. Hotels are wonderful places to explore and each hotel room comes with its own delights but in this case I got a surprise when I realised that the bathroom was separated from the bedroom by a pane of slightly obscured glass. Thus giving the opportunity for a photograph like this.
If you’d like to play along then please comment below and I’ll come and share your surprises too.
My boy and I had a weekend away. Now as this was a trip abroad it was filled with sightseeing and adventure but even so we found some time to play together.
We had a sense of freedom, of being anonymous and that enabled us to be far more relaxed than might otherwise be the case.
My boy went out in his collar, the tag peeking through the neck of his shirt, unafraid of who might see (not many people, it was cold and we were wrapped up warmly).
In the hotel I found time to have my boy on his knees, sucking my cock, enjoying the size of it and the anticipation. Then I chose to rape my boy; with no need to be quiet he could surrender to the moment and I could use him without restraint. In return I could demand his cock and I could sing out my pleasure freely (and loudly).
Hotel rules meant that my Boy stayed naked. That he could serve me. It meant he took whatever pain and pleasure I chose and for once I delighted in giving him pleasure. Leaving him shaking and trembling with its intensity (yes, I am a smug Domme and with good reason).
We shared our freedom, our pleasure and our love. My boy, truly mine, for a few precious days.
Mat and I were going to a kink night. It was some distance away and we had booked a hotel, both as somewhere to get ready and as somewhere to crash afterwards. While driving to our hotel we discovered the party in question had been cancelled; we decided to carry on and enjoy the weekend anyway.
I’ve said before that hotels make things special, far away from the normal world. This weekend proved that to be true again.
We had a wonderful weekend. During the days we pottered about in the car. We paddled our feet in the river, we went shopping, we sat in a shady graveyard and ate pies, we drank every sort of iced coffee we could find, we walked, laughed, held hands and behaved like any loving couple might.
When in the hotel everything was different. My boy was naked. He was my puppy, my fucktoy, my whipping boy and my footstool. I took naked photos of him cavorting like a whore in the hotel window and walked him about in the dark by his cock. We shared dirty fantasies and sexy moments, he came for me and I smeared his spunk on his face.
Do these days and nights seem mismatched? Not to me, for they were wonderful and precious and all ‘us’. Days and nights to be treasured.