Its Friday night.......am I going out? am I going to hit the town and paint it red?
Am I going to party like its 1999?
Am I hunting out my glad rags and putting on my dancing shoes?
No
There is a big duvet with my name on it, clean cool sheets, 1908 songs on my ipod and new headphones and a cool A/ C ,a good book (Winter in Madrid) and the promise of a long sleep with a lie in till 8.
I think I must be getting old...that all sounds so much more appealing than a night out......
So dinner, a shower and then the bed...sweet dreams blog world and to all of you just getting up....ITS FRIDAY......................
Showing posts with label sleep. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sleep. Show all posts
Friday, 18 March 2011
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.
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.
Monday, 14 February 2011
Exposed and learning to accept what I am given
He took the new rope from my hands, and tied a noose at one end.
I watched him, this was the noose knot he once gave me a remote lesson on how to tie by typing instructions only to have me falling about laughing at my inability to do it, but this time I was not laughing. I was mesmerised by his fingers tying the knot, turning the new rope over in his hands, and fell very still.
He stood and walked behind me, placed the rope over my wrists and pulled it tight, , wrapping the rope between my hands, checking how tight it was.
He led me to the bed and laid me face down, pulled the rope up my back, wrapped it once round my neck, tied my feet behind me and then once more round my neck.
He returned to the chair and sat there, not moving, not speaking, just sitting and looking, watching me studying me. My face was turned towards him and I could no longer look directly at him.
I was helpless, completely at his mercy, unable to move.
He stood, walked towards the bed, never taking his eyes off my face, I sensed this rather than saw it. He rolled me over so I was on my back and now I was completely vulnerable, completely exposed.
He reached into his bag and took from it his favourite crop, the one we had bought together one sunny day last year, one he had made me carry through the shopping mall, in my hand, my face red with shame.
He laid the crop on the bed beside me.
He took the hood from the bag and laid it next to my head.
I closed my eyes and I heard the sound of him undoing his belt.
My eyes shot open.
He laid the belt across my stomach.
His hand reached towards my breasts, and he slapped them, hard, he pinched he pulled, he twisted, he flicked, he pulled some more.
He lent down and I felt his hot breath on them, his lips closing over my nipples, his tongue licking, sucking, while his hand squeezed and pinched and twisted the other one. he swapped between the two.
The pleasure of his tongue, his kisses followed by the pain and torment of his fingers.
He picked up the belt and moved it.
He picked up the crop.
He began tracing the end of the crop over my nipples; teasing them, tapping gently, down my thighs , up the inside of each leg till I almost longer to feel it on my wet and now desperate cunt.
I closed my eyes and let the feelings of vulnerability of openness flood over me, fill me with happiness.
Whack
He brought the crop down over one tit.
and again over the other.
I struggled, the rope tightening round my neck, realizing that his hand held the other end, I knew that he could feel exactly how tight it was, he was watching , looking and checking.
Again and again I watched him raise the crop, again and again I felt it crash into me; biting pain, hot searing pain, head filling, crying sobbing pain.
The rope around my neck felt tight, I began to panic I bit, i tried to tell him it was too tight, he looked and shook his head. I had to focus on being calm, not fighting,...on accepting what he was giving me, accepting the pain from him, accepting ...........
I remember him putting the crop between my teeth as he picked up his belt. I watched him hold the buckle and wrap it round his hand
I remember the noise, the crack it made as he pulled it.......... and I remember the first time it hit me...................and I remember watching his arm, not the belt, just his arm.......................
His hands gently lifted my head and unwound the rope from my neck, I felt his hands on mine as he untied the knots, his arms as he carefully moved my arms to my sides and as he lifted me from the bed, and wrapped my favourite blanket from home around me. He wiped the tears from my eyes, kissed them away, he told me he loved me, he told me I was a good girl, that he was proud of me.
He held me close, talking about what he had done to me: about the rope, how he had tied it, how it looked behind my back. He described how the crop had marked me across my stomach, my tits, how my thighs were marked by the crop and the belt, he talked to me about how my cunt had dripped after he had used the crop on it and the belt. He talked about how I had cried out, moaned and whimpered, how he had watched me struggle and how I had fallen silent, by body open to him, my cunt exposed, my nipples hard and erect, and how I had become still............... and how I had accepted what he had given me.
He touched me so gentley where he had hurt me, kissing each welt, slowly undoing the blanket, laying me out once more on the bed.
His fingers tracing along the marks he had made, his fingers exploring my cunt , probing, thrusting, opening, and this time allowing me to feel pleasure, holding me on the edge of orgasm, and once more he wrapped me in his arms, and held me tight as he made me cum......a deep, all encompassing, all over body and mind , flashing lights, music in the ears orgasm.
I had a complete overwhelming submissive feeling come over me and begged to be allowed to be at his feet once more, so smiling me released me from his arms and more or less poured me onto the floor, he covered me with my blanket and there I drifted off to sleep, wrapped around his feet, holding onto his leg, my hand inside his jeans touching him, while he finished some work.
When I woke a few hours later, he once more put my rope on, took the other end in his hand, and pulled me into bed, and there we fell asleep...................... together .........me on the end of his rope .......... where I belong...
I watched him, this was the noose knot he once gave me a remote lesson on how to tie by typing instructions only to have me falling about laughing at my inability to do it, but this time I was not laughing. I was mesmerised by his fingers tying the knot, turning the new rope over in his hands, and fell very still.
He stood and walked behind me, placed the rope over my wrists and pulled it tight, , wrapping the rope between my hands, checking how tight it was.
He led me to the bed and laid me face down, pulled the rope up my back, wrapped it once round my neck, tied my feet behind me and then once more round my neck.
He returned to the chair and sat there, not moving, not speaking, just sitting and looking, watching me studying me. My face was turned towards him and I could no longer look directly at him.
I was helpless, completely at his mercy, unable to move.
He stood, walked towards the bed, never taking his eyes off my face, I sensed this rather than saw it. He rolled me over so I was on my back and now I was completely vulnerable, completely exposed.
He reached into his bag and took from it his favourite crop, the one we had bought together one sunny day last year, one he had made me carry through the shopping mall, in my hand, my face red with shame.
He laid the crop on the bed beside me.
He took the hood from the bag and laid it next to my head.
I closed my eyes and I heard the sound of him undoing his belt.
My eyes shot open.
He laid the belt across my stomach.
His hand reached towards my breasts, and he slapped them, hard, he pinched he pulled, he twisted, he flicked, he pulled some more.
He lent down and I felt his hot breath on them, his lips closing over my nipples, his tongue licking, sucking, while his hand squeezed and pinched and twisted the other one. he swapped between the two.
The pleasure of his tongue, his kisses followed by the pain and torment of his fingers.
He picked up the belt and moved it.
He picked up the crop.
He began tracing the end of the crop over my nipples; teasing them, tapping gently, down my thighs , up the inside of each leg till I almost longer to feel it on my wet and now desperate cunt.
I closed my eyes and let the feelings of vulnerability of openness flood over me, fill me with happiness.
Whack
He brought the crop down over one tit.
and again over the other.
I struggled, the rope tightening round my neck, realizing that his hand held the other end, I knew that he could feel exactly how tight it was, he was watching , looking and checking.
Again and again I watched him raise the crop, again and again I felt it crash into me; biting pain, hot searing pain, head filling, crying sobbing pain.
The rope around my neck felt tight, I began to panic I bit, i tried to tell him it was too tight, he looked and shook his head. I had to focus on being calm, not fighting,...on accepting what he was giving me, accepting the pain from him, accepting ...........
I remember him putting the crop between my teeth as he picked up his belt. I watched him hold the buckle and wrap it round his hand
I remember the noise, the crack it made as he pulled it.......... and I remember the first time it hit me...................and I remember watching his arm, not the belt, just his arm.......................
His hands gently lifted my head and unwound the rope from my neck, I felt his hands on mine as he untied the knots, his arms as he carefully moved my arms to my sides and as he lifted me from the bed, and wrapped my favourite blanket from home around me. He wiped the tears from my eyes, kissed them away, he told me he loved me, he told me I was a good girl, that he was proud of me.
He held me close, talking about what he had done to me: about the rope, how he had tied it, how it looked behind my back. He described how the crop had marked me across my stomach, my tits, how my thighs were marked by the crop and the belt, he talked to me about how my cunt had dripped after he had used the crop on it and the belt. He talked about how I had cried out, moaned and whimpered, how he had watched me struggle and how I had fallen silent, by body open to him, my cunt exposed, my nipples hard and erect, and how I had become still............... and how I had accepted what he had given me.
He touched me so gentley where he had hurt me, kissing each welt, slowly undoing the blanket, laying me out once more on the bed.
His fingers tracing along the marks he had made, his fingers exploring my cunt , probing, thrusting, opening, and this time allowing me to feel pleasure, holding me on the edge of orgasm, and once more he wrapped me in his arms, and held me tight as he made me cum......a deep, all encompassing, all over body and mind , flashing lights, music in the ears orgasm.
I had a complete overwhelming submissive feeling come over me and begged to be allowed to be at his feet once more, so smiling me released me from his arms and more or less poured me onto the floor, he covered me with my blanket and there I drifted off to sleep, wrapped around his feet, holding onto his leg, my hand inside his jeans touching him, while he finished some work.
When I woke a few hours later, he once more put my rope on, took the other end in his hand, and pulled me into bed, and there we fell asleep...................... together .........me on the end of his rope .......... where I belong...
Tuesday, 8 February 2011
Refuge in sleep
Such a short trip home, so little time, so many things to remember, to talk about, so many words spoken.................too little sleep.......lots of tears, so many tears and now I am alone again...............sleep is my refuge for today................a little blue sleeping pill.................and then tomorrow I have many things to face.
Tuesday, 4 January 2011
One of those days
Just one of those days....too tired to read or type....just a good night and sleep hopefully.zzzzzzz
Tuesday, 7 December 2010
Swimming in the rain
Today I went swimming in the rain.
Not the gentle"kiss your eyes lashes, soft focus, run through a summer meadow with a book over your head, laughing gently "type of rain.
Not the steady drizzle of an autumn day rain, where everything is shrouded in a swirling mist, and slowly seems to soak through sort of rain.
No
I went swimming in hard arse rain, the "hurt your arms, give you bruises, freeze your brain, soak you instantly" sort of rain.
Not the gentle"kiss your eyes lashes, soft focus, run through a summer meadow with a book over your head, laughing gently "type of rain.
Not the steady drizzle of an autumn day rain, where everything is shrouded in a swirling mist, and slowly seems to soak through sort of rain.
No
I went swimming in hard arse rain, the "hurt your arms, give you bruises, freeze your brain, soak you instantly" sort of rain.
And it was bliss.....invigorating. enlivening, exhilarating, and absolutely freezing.
When I got back to my car, I put the heating on.
when I got home, I stripped and dropped my soaking clothes onto a cold floor, the clothes that were soaking from the mad dash "pool to car sort of soaking"). I made myself a hot chocolate, curled up in a blanket on a chair outside , watched the rain pour from a leaden sky, and drifted off to sleep................
I woke to find a small cat on my lap , and some watery rays of sun catching my feet.....................
Simple things.
(doesn't mean I have stopped pondering though!)
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