A blog from a woman on a journey of discovery.

Please leave this blog if you are under 18 or easily offended.

Thursday, 17 February 2011

Its not all about the control, sex and submission

We went out for dinner that night, he let me choose and I chose Chinese. It was a long drive in the dark, which he did, although he did make me get out in the freezing cold and fill the car with petrol muttering something about "Why do it when your slave will do it for you?", although he turned the seat heater on while I was outside, which was a surprise and a treat.

The restaurant was lovely, small cubicles, subtle lighting and gentle music in the background. The service was wonderful, discreet and unobtrusive. He made me sit next to him, our legs touching, the heat from his body warming me, exciting me...............oh how I wanted to touch him, to stroke his leg...............he took my hand, and held it in his, he looked at me and told me how much he had missed me, how proud he is of me, and how much he loves me. He held it so long, and then pulled it towards his chest, and put it on his heart, put his hand over mine and sighed........I thought I would burst with happiness, and then he put his hand over my heart and my nipples sprang to attention ..........................he roared with laughter, great big laughs,  and he hugged me so tightly I thought I would shoot out of my dress.

He was, as always, useless with the chopsticks and I tried not to laugh, not to gloat as I effortlessly ate the delicious food..................in the end he made me feed him,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, and when he couldn't  eat any more for laughing, he resorted to a fork...which just made me laugh more.

The wine flowed, in my direction,  I got giggly, he laughed at me, at my falling over my own words as I talked to him.
He told me bad jokes, we talked about "stuff", he told me I had beautiful eyes, and how much he misses looking into them when he kisses me, when he uses me, when he hurts me, he misses seeing them full of love, of pain, of happiness...................he stroked my hair, and held my hand under the table.

When we drove back on the starlit frosty night, he drove with one hand on my bare thigh, gently stroking it, and when we got back, I striped and passed him my rope which he put around my neck and sat me on his knee and he held me tight.

He gently caressed me, teasing my nipples, kissing me, putting his hands around my neck, gently, pressing, a promise of things to come..................................
He left me on  dozing on the bed while he got ready to sleep and when he returned I asked him if I could please sleep at his feet that night.

So he lay on the bed, he never seems to feel the cold, although to be fair the room as probably about 26 degrees, and I kissed his feet and wished him goodnight and we fell asleep together. An owner  with his slave sleeping at his feet.

I woke a few hours later, cold, shivering and chilled to the bone. He felt me move and tugged on the rope, I crawled up the bed and asked to be allowed back in.

 He pulled the covers over us and told me to sleep as he pulled me close and wrapped my rope around his hand.

 I slept.


  1. Nice... bet you both slept well!

  2. Hi...

    Hate to leave this in a comment section, but could not find an email...

    whoopy pies

    6 tbsp Crisco
    1 cup sugar
    1 egg
    3 tbsp cocoaa
    1 cup milk
    1 teasp. vanilla

    2 cups flour
    1 1/4 teas baking soda
    1/4 teasp. salt

    Mix til all blended

    Drop by tablespoon on baking sheet, cook in 350 oven for 15 minutes.

    Let cool completely

    3/4 cup crisco
    3/4 cup powdered sugra
    6 tbsp marshmallow

    using mixer bloend well..the longer the creamier

    fill the chocolate cookies...and ENJOY


  3. Sounds like a perfect evening.
    When will the whoopy pies be ready?

  4. Sigh.

    So wonderful.


  5. hello all, thamks for your comments and the recipe....what is crisco?

    my email is

  6. sorry..crisco is a brand name for a solid shortening here...abby