Knowing What I Need

You might think knowing what you need is easy, but sometimes it takes someone else to help you.

I was upset. Emotional and irrational but with no real idea why. In a moment with my boy I ended up cuddled close to him.
“What do you need?” he asked me.
“I don’t know” was my honest answer.

He sat up then and looked at me squarely.
“You need Perrin to spank you”, he told me.
Once he’d said it, I heard the truth of it, but I was still hesitant.
“You’re going to go and ask him to spank you”, he continued, “or I’ll ask him for you”.

I could tell by his tone of voice that he wasn’t bluffing. This was one of those things that I could tell seemed so simple to him and he wasn’t about to let me complicate it. A part of my mind wondered if I should exert my dominance at this point and forbid him to get involved but I had a strong sense that he’d defy me anyway and, I strongly suspected, take any punishment I later dished out with the infuriating smugness of someone who knows that they’ve been proved right.

Because he was right of course, we both knew that.

I gave in gracefully. Mat led me by the hand to Perrin and left me alone with him with a look that let me know what he expected me to do. Perrin looked on puzzled by our by-play.

I sat down beside him and took a deep breath.
“I need you to spank me”, I admitted through gritted teeth, “Would you please?”

Such a hard thing to say; even now, so very hard to admit to.

In moments I was naked, kneeling before him. This was a simple spanking, his hand on my bottom, nothing fancy needed. It went on for an unmeasurable time, it might have been hours or merely seconds, although the bruises on my bottom suggest it went on for a while. I wriggled and squirmed; ending up stretched out before him but never trying to escape. I cried and sobbed; from pain, from a sense of release and from gratitude that someone knew me well enough to make sure I got what I needed when I didn’t know myself.

When Perrin had finished I curled up close to him. His hand found my pussy then. I was wet, aroused by the spanking. A reaction I could neither hide nor deny. His fingers squelched inside me, spreading my dampness. He played with me then until I came; another release, no less needed. Then he fucked me, my Dom, taking me for his pleasure and letting me know I was his.
Finally I snuggled in his arms, at peace with the world and myself.

So what do I need?
I need what I have, two men who love and understand me and who give me everything I need.

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”

Submission Is Not Temporary

Perhaps we’re arguing semantics here, but I don’t consider myself a switch. I have both a dominant side and a submissive side, it is true, but the two are quite separate. Of course my submissive side is actually the dominant one (if you follow me). It has been there the longest, it is where my first instincts lie, where my first fantasies existed.

Importantly though I don’t feel like a switch because for me the D/s is inherent in the relationship. While the physical acts may be flexible; I can go from fucking to being fucked in a moment, the sense of dominance or submission is constant. The actual intensity may ebb or flow over time, may even be concealed entirely by other stresses and strains, but its direction within a given relationship is unchanging. It cannot be turned on or off or reversed at will.

Recently I wrote that I had lost my sense of submission, there was an empty space inside me where it should be. Then, suddenly in a random moment, Perrin’s hands were on my throat, and it surged over me. A tidal wave washing over me, filling the empty spaces in my heart. There is a sense of relief in that, of finding something lost. Finding it, of course, exactly where you left it.

Within a few moments I found myself over his knee being spanked. Spanked until he wore his hand out. Spanked lovingly, and hard. I could have stayed there for ever. The joy of that feeling, of being his, connected and close, was what I have been missing so much.

It’s so good to have it back.

Hurting Him

I finally got to start exploring my domme side, moving it from fantasy to reality.

Let’s call him Mat. He’d been pushing all day. A persistent cheekiness I recognised as an attempt to see how far he could push me, and whether I’d push back. I don’t really like being manipulated like that (even though it was done in a humorously mischievous and lovably forgivable way), and I think in future my response should be slightly different, but on this occasion I knew it was time to give him what he had been so obliquely asking for.

I had him kneel naked at my feet, and felt a sudden awareness of my power as he did so. As I held him there, I hesitated momentarily, wondering if I dared cross that invisible line, to raise my hand to him at last.

I ordered him over my knee then, the sofa long enough to hold him comfortably, and began to spank him. His bottom glowed a rosy red, and the gentle stinging of my hand kept me conscious of what I was doing to him. An intimate and gentle beginning.

Later he pushed again, this time I used the riding crop on him. Delighting in the lines it left on his buttocks. Watching his face buried in my pillow as his hips moved in response to each stroke. He was almost silent, with only the slightest of whimpers. My very good little boy.

What did it feel like?

I hurt him. Knowing what I was doing. Deliberately. Wanting his pain. And he accepted it. Enduring each stroke. Submissive. And he made it something beautiful. In that moment I became his. His Domme. And he became so much more to me than I can begin to describe.

An incredibly special moment.

Your Pet

I don’t normally write age play, but this just seemed to fit.

Rowena looked down at her puppy Matthew sitting at her feet. She smiled and patted his head. He looked up adoringly at her.

“Good boy” she praised him, “now lets play”.

She walked to the other side of the room and called to him.

“Here Matthew, come here” she bent down holding out her arms.

Matthew bounded across the room to her on all fours. She hugged his naked body with delight, and he wriggled against her with puppyish excitement.

“Chase me” she ordered, letting go of him and climbing onto the sofa.

Matthew followed her onto the furniture. Putting eager puppy paws on her shoulders he pushed her down and began to lick her face. Rowena giggled and squirmed.

The door opened and Bryan walked in. He took one look at the two of them sprawled on the sofa.

“Rowena” he roared, “What did I tell you about your pet?”

Rowena looked crestfallen. “Not on the sofa, Daddy” she said quietly.

“Well?” he replied watching her.

She sat up, and hugged Matthew. She pointed to the floor.

“Down” she told him, “Sit”.

Matthew climbed off the sofa and assumed a puppy posture on the floor. Rowena climbed down too, and hugged him tightly arms around his neck.

“Please be good” she whispered, “or I’ll be in more trouble”.

Bryan walked across to them and sat down on the sofa.

“Now come here” he told Rowena. She came and stood go front of him looking slightly defiant.

“I told you, that you were responsible for looking after your pet, didn’t I?” he asked her. She nodded sulkily. He looked at her and waited for an answer.

“Yes, Daddy” she admitted finally.

“Then you need to be punished” he told her firmly, patting his lap in a gesture which she understood all too well.

She lay herself over his lap. Bryan lifted her skirt, and pulled her panties down to her thighs, Rowena buried her head into the sofa.

Smack. Bryan’s hand came down firmly on Rowena’s bottom and she yelped. He began spanking her firmly, one hand holding the small of her back as she earnestly wriggled to get away.

“Please, Daddy, stop. I’ll be good” she begged. Her bottom was glowing red under his hand. When she started sobbing he finally relented. Watching her as she lay meekly over his lap for a moment.

“Stand up” he told her.

She struggled to her feet, and he turned her away from him, tucking her skirt into her waistband, leaving her bottom exposed. He told her to go and stand go the corner. She started walking, her hands reaching to adjust her panties, still around her thighs.

“Leave your panties where they are” he warned her. She shuffled awkwardly across the room. Her bottom on display, her face to the wall.

Bryan turned to Matthew still sitting patiently on the floor. He gestured to him, indicating that he might go to the woman standing in the corner.

Matthew released, crawled across the room, a curious puppy. He pushed his nose eagerly against Rowena’s bottom.

She felt him nuzzling her, but was not allowed to speak, she knew. She shifted her stance slightly parting her thighs a little, pushing her sore bottom towards him slightly.

Matthew sniffed, inhaling her sex. His tongue began to explore as best it could the folds of her, tasting her dampness, and feeling her twist slightly in response.

Rowena moaned softly. Corner time had never been so delightful or frustrating.

“You may come out now”, Bryan told her finally, and she turned gratefully.

She crouched down to hug her devoted puppy, and looked across the room, uncertain whether to hump her darling puppy or beg for Daddy’s cock…

An Evening

After dinner, we talked, cuddled, chilled. Then he turned to me, “Take your clothes off”.
The tone told me he was serious. I stood up and slipped off my skirt, followed rapidly by the rest of my clothes. Practicality attempted to rear its head.

“I need the toilet” I pointed out, reasonably.

“Perhaps” he said evilly. He turned and left the room, I heard distant noises as he went to a cupboard, and returned with a large plastic bowl which he placed on the floor. I regarded it in horror.

“You can use that” he commanded.

I knew better than to try to argue. I went and squatted awkwardly over the bowl feeling horribly self-conscious and attempted to perform. I closed my eyes as I sought to relax my muscles.

“Look at me” he demanded.

I opened my eyes and gazed at him, as I tried to concentrate on my body my eyes dropped. Again he insisted on my attention. Finally, my eyes fixed on his, my body cooperated and I felt the relief as my bladder emptied. He handed me paper to wipe with. I did so, feeling more humiliated by his regard than ever.

After clearing it away, I was sent upstairs to the bedroom where he soon followed me.
With twisted humour he sent me back downstairs again to fetch two pegs. I returned, all too full of foreboding.

He ordered me onto all fours, and proceeded to attach the pegs to my nipples. They were mercifully gentle, but I knew more was to come.  He proceeded to spank me. His hand setting up an insistent rhythm. I let it take me away, living in the moment. As I struggled with the pain I sagged under the blows.

“Tell me when you’ve had enough of my hand” he insisted in a tone which left me sure worse was to follow. I debated internally how much bravery to show.

“I’ve had enough” I admitted.

He fetched the crop then, and told me there would be ten strokes, I was to be in the same position for each one.  He began then, in a steady rhythm, not too fast. Each stroke, with power behind it, first on the left, and then the right. That made it easier to take, and I held firm for several strokes before collapsing downwards.

Breathing hard, I was aware of him waiting patiently above me.  I could delay the remaining strokes indefinitely, all I had to do was lie still.  I wondered briefly if I could avoid the remaining strokes entirely by refusing to resume my position. Even as I thought it, I realised how much I would hate such an outcome.

I forced myself back onto my hands and knees, eager to complete this challenge. The last few strokes were delivered evenly. I felt the burning in my bottom, and wondered what more was in store.

He pushed me down now, so I lay on my front.
He moved behind me, forcing my legs apart, and kneeling between them. His hand ran up my thigh, his fingers swirling in the dampness between them. I shuddered at his touch, knowing he could tell how turned on I was by everything he had done.

I felt his cock then, pushing into my pussy. His body over mine pressing against the soreness in my bottom.

“Push your ass up to me” he ordered.

As I did so, I felt him go deeper, and I cried out helplessly at the total penetration. His pounding intensified, and I struggled to hold position. I felt his urgency, and pushed back eagerly until I felt him cum inside me, crying out with his pleasure.

I collapsed downwards now. Him lying on me, sated.

Then he withdrew, and lifted his weight off me. His hand snaked between my legs, as I lay there, with such little touches needed until I too was crying out with delight.

Our needs met, we snuggled together, and settled down to sleep.

Snow Again

The snow came down yesterday. We spent all day inside drinking mulled wine and watching it fall.

In the evening Perrin and I had a talk, about kink and what we were doing. We’ve come a long way from our first playing in the snow a year ago, when I learned what a terrible thing it could be.

Then he put me over his knee and spanked me. It was the best kind of spanking, with his hand on my back holding me in place, and me wriggling and kicking. It went on and on, until I wondered how much more his hand could take.

I’m a cheeky girl.

When he’d finished, Perrin told me to stand up,  naked from the waist down, and getting me to place my hands on my bottom, asked me how it felt.

“Hot and Sore” I admitted.

“I can help with that” he smirked.

I knew instantly what he was implying. We went around to the back door, and he opened it up, pushing snow before it as it opened. Then he told me to sit down in the snow.

I did so obediently. The first touch of snow was cold but soft, not unpleasant at all. Within seconds though the cold was burning, unbearable. After the longest few moments, Perrin helped me to my feet, and let me return indoors.

Then we went upstairs to make love. I begged for his cock, and he asked me why I deserved such a thing.

“I’m a good girl, I sat straight down in the snow for you”

“That’s not good, that’s obedient” he told me, “good, would be asking to sit in the snow for me” he challenged.

I did say he was cruel. I hate being cold.

Still as we made love, I suggested bravely that he could fetch snow from outside the window. His mind worked on the possibilities, until a completely new idea occurred to him.

He fetched some snow from the windowsill and pushed it into my pussy, pounding it deeper with his cock. As it melted the water trickled out, drenching us both.

A second time, he went to the window, and I waited legs spread wide. He brought snow, and I felt the cold deep inside me. The cold of the snow and the heat of his cock moved me so much that I found myself coming, lost in the deliciously altered sensation. Another few moments and Perrin came too, another source of warmth.

Suddenly snow doesn’t seem so bad.