I took my boy to a party. With a little help from my friends I had a surprise for him.
I had him stripped down to his panties, which I know makes him feel slutty. We let him know he would be performing for the camera. Then I ordered him to suck a man off, to give him pleasure and to put on a show for us all to watch.
It was indeed hot to watch. My Boy, my whore in training, doing as he was commanded. Giving pleasure, until he was left with a mouthful of spunk.
I was left with memories and photographs.
When Mat and I go out to a play party, our emphasis is on the play, the freedom to express our relationship in ways we cannot day to day.
Sometimes that play involves tieing my boy and hurting him or writing on him with sharpies but sometimes it involves nothing more than having him at my feet and petting him or leaving him locked in a cage while I eat chocolate biscuits.
We were out playing recently and at the end of the evening one of the hosts commented to me “You looked like you were having fun”. I was startled by the comment because it was the second time recently that such a comment had been made to me and it made me wonder what prompted it.
You see, I don’t know what we look like when we play and really I don’t want to. I suspect if I ever watched myself I’d be so embarrassed I’d never be able to pick up a flogger again. In general I don’t even want to be aware of the people watching us. No, I know the first rule of performing is not to meet the audience’s eyes, I don’t need feedback to put me off.
I also don’t know if we play differently from anyone else. I know I aim for enthusiasm. Although my boy assures me at the start of each event that I should do only what I want to, that he would be happy sitting at my feet with his head in my lap all evening if that’s what I wished; I know he is silently (and sometimes not so silently) grading my performance with particular emphasis on using the kit available.
For me what determines how I play is how comfortable I am. In a new venue being shown around helps enormously. I like to know where I am and what is expected and allowed. Arriving early is good too. I like to find a quiet area to warm up gently without too much of an audience, particularly if I’m experimenting with an unfamiliar piece of furniture.
The rest depends on my boy, the more submissive he is the happier I am. Oh I can cope if he’s in an irreverent, humorous mood and I can laugh my way through a flogging with him. But when he’s quiet, submissive and respectful I can let myself go, experiment, play; I can fly.
Then time rushes by and all too soon we realise people are packing up around us and it is time to leave and I smile a floating, happy smile and nod gently when people say I had fun.
It is a sunny afternoon. The garden is full of people, standing around in groups talking and drinking. The party is in full swing. People move back and forth merrily between the drinks table set up against the house and the long lawn with flower beds along each edge.
At the far end of the garden in the shadow of the slightly overgrown hedge kneels a naked man. He kneels back on his heels, hands held behind his back, head bowed. He is unbound. He has been ordered to remain here by his Domme who is hosting the party and so he does. Beside him a hand written sign attached to a stake in the ground reads “Public Convenience”. Continue reading “Providing A Public Convenience”
I recently turned my boy into a word cloud and I enjoyed it so much that I wanted to write on him again. This time I wanted it to be in public, where the words I wrote could be seen by people being written and be read afterwards.
We had been invited to attend a party and I had planned to use that opportunity to do just that. There was a beautiful bench in the centre of the room and I arranged my boy over it, fastening his wrists in the cuffs which were so thoughtfully provided. I began by spanking him gently, with my hand and the leather paddle. I moved on to the flogger for a few brief moments and then pulled out my sharpie and began to write.
Mat laughed softly when he realised what I was doing. As I continued to work he became curious to know what I was writing.
“A poem” I told him; continuing to focus on writing the words I had composed earlier in the week, memorised for this moment.
As I wrote I was distantly aware of people’s interest, of their murmured whispers of curiosity. Still I concentrated on my task – there was no way to erase mistakes – until I had finished, then I stood back and let others read my words.
Finally I untied my boy and took him to one side to recite to him what was inscribed on his back. Something both intimate and public.
This was in effect my first ever piece of performance poetry. Mat had been encouraging me to share my poetry more widely for a while but I don’t think this was quite what he had imagined. The positive reaction I got was really touching. I shared my words and my feelings and they felt appreciated and understood.
Best of all, Mat wore my words proudly all evening and I did my best not to smudge them.
The photo was taken in the dark, so here is the poem more clearly.
This is my boy,
my toy and my plaything.
This is my bitch,
mine to tease and torment.
This is my slut,
mine to fuck and to hurt.
This is my whore,
mine to share and to use.
This is my canvas
mine to mark and inscribe
with words that inspire me
with whatever I choose.
A last highlight of our evening out playing.
It’s Mat’s rubber straitjacket and he won it; but I adore it. It’s shiny and red (how nice to have fetish wear that isn’t black) and feels and looks beautiful. I love how contented and happy Mat looks when he wears it. He loves the big silly grin on my face when he does.
I’ve never been into rubber before. The first time I saw any ‘in the flesh’ so to speak, was some rather miserable, dusty looking pants hanging up in the back of an Ann Summers shop many years ago. That sight was enough to put me off entirely until very recently. The straitjacket has changed my mind entirely; so much so that I may one day even buy some rubber of my very own – any suggestions or advice welcome.
Mat’s not worn the straitjacket in, oh far too long, and I was eager to show him off in it. I’d deliberately waited until quite late in the evening because I knew how hot it would make him but it was worth the wait. He looked beautiful. I paraded him around a bit and then took advantage of his helplessness to give him a paddling with my new leather/fluffy paddle.
A wonderful evening all together. Happy, happy Domme.