Caning Sometime?
It’s been a long time. Long time since I hurt so much the next day, and the next. Purple from above the knee all the way to the top of the ass. Various marks scattered around the rest of the Continue reading Caning Sometime?
Tag Archives: thighs
Just Hands
Blindfolded. Eyes closed beneath the cloth. Waiting on her knees before him. Listening to his breathing while he strips then sits. “Okay, you may touch me now. Hands only.” She reaches forward, fingertips brushing his legs. She slides her hands Continue reading Just Hands
Tied Up and Tossed in a Corner
I asked to be tied up and tossed in a corner. I wanted to fight the rope. I wanted to sit and struggle and soak in it. So I asked him, and he said we’d see. The club can often Continue reading Tied Up and Tossed in a Corner
Round Two
“Now for what I want.” “Yes, Sir.” She gripped the cross legs behind her thighs and grinned back at him. Crack Snap Crack. He landed a hit on each nipple and a teasing mid-air snap in front of her nose. Continue reading Round Two
In and Out of Space
Monday. Contract day. He says he wants to get off work early to help us clean. The dungeon needs put back together. It’s been storage space since July. He wants to put up the suspension point again. Sounds great to Continue reading In and Out of Space
Regaining Balance
I don’t know where to start. It’s been a week of crazy ups and downs. Excellent times together, and painful moments, too. Through it all, communication. Keep talking, keep expressing, keep feeling, keep reacting, keep it honest and open. We Continue reading Regaining Balance
I Know What You Did Last Night
Blackness. She tried to blink, but couldn’t. Coming more fully awake, she realized her head was covered in fabric. Tight. It wasn’t a headache, her head was tightly wrapped. Her ears hurt. Not badly, just a mild ache. Static. There Continue reading I Know What You Did Last Night
1950s Monday
Nervous anticipation. We have Plans, it’ll be alright. We’ve gone shopping and have everything we need. Packing, checking, dressing, checking again. Don’t forget it at home! Go back, get the food out of the kitchen. Okay. I’m there. Need to Continue reading 1950s Monday
Fourth Monday
Fourth Monday. Finally. Only three months to get here. Such busy, crazy lives we lead. He asks me to bring my straitjacket and blindfold. My turn for isolation. Picnic on Sunday, so some cleaning is already done, but there’s different Continue reading Fourth Monday
First Monday
Tonight is Rope, maybe even suspension. We arrive on time, head in and start cleaning. Check list complete, change clothes and cuddle up to talk and wait. He is home, a couple minutes to spare. We have a short talk Continue reading First Monday