I know I don't go into great detail about the physical goings on but having to look so many people in the eye who I know read this makes it somewhat difficult to be as forthright as I would like. I am working on getting over it.
So last night I went to see Sir.
I am gradually feeling more comfortable, less consumed by concern about my marriage through the constant conversations with Husband Dear and thus more able to be present, less terrified about what is awaiting me....no, scrap that I am still sitting on the edge of terrified about that - but that is the way I like it.
Our last few days were filled with good humour, texts, conversations and laughing. I have not been able to work a suitable time into my schedule to see him. I am lacking childminding at the moment and as devious as I am I could not leave my children with my in-laws for a rendezvous with Sir, although on some kinky level I do find it appealing.
I was not sure if I would go as we really need some whole family time but after a few texts back and forward I had to go and I had to go right then. Husband Dear took the kids for dinner at his parents (I should really find out what I am supposedly doing at these times for future reference) and I went home, quickly showered and drove to see Sir.
On arrival I was made to kneel face down on the floor. Sir was busy with something, his energy felt scattered and stressed but still when he entered the room he spoke with me and was calm and controlled. Between spankings he kept leaving to attend to something while I knelt, perfectly still on the floor. He got the whip out. He was quite wieldy with it, no build in. My back-side already smarted from his hands. He started to pull pieces of clothing to the sides, down, around, off, scattering them around the floor. I could sense frustration, perhaps. Though he may have been in that headspace, not a whisper of it drifted into our play. I am always amazed by this. He whips me, hard. Still I am facedown on the floor and again he must leave the room. My arse is naked, in the air, my back bare and he rests the whip right in the middle, commanding that it should not move.
I am still, listening. I wonder if I should try not to listen but in the silence it is all I have. My hair drapes down around me making me hot. At some stage I must have had the gag in as I remember spit dripping through my sweat soaked hair, me shaking it, trying to get it out of my face. It sticks in thick chunks to my cheeks and neck. I can see a drop of spit stringing its way down to the floor. I can feel the leather snaking its way down my back. I imagine how it looks, folded down on itself, tendrils of thinly plaited black leather with knotted ends, sitting, waiting, softly curving over my arse, betraying none of its sting. Doors open and close downstairs. Momentary panic sets in.
What if there is someone else here? What if he is bringing someone here now? We have talked about it but I am not ready for that. What should I do? I am here on the floor. I could look over and see the door but then that would not be holding position. I am working hard at being good. I am not a good sub, I know that, but for now, today, I am trying so I stay perfectly still, kneeling, palms outstretched on the carpet, forehead an inch from the floor, sweat dripping, spit leaking, hair draped around me like a veil. If there is someone here what will I do? I can hear footsteps on the stairs. It is one set of sounds or two? They are at the door, turning the handle, walking towards me and I feel a hand collecting the whip and lazily trailing it over my back, putting it down on the bed. A warm hand caresses my shoulders and traces down my spine. I shiver and my back arches. I am trying so hard to be still. "Good Girl." He soothes. "I am here with you and now I can give you my full attention. Is that my touch making you shiver?" I could hear the smirk in his voice. I murmured something. He ran his nails down my back. My body arched in response.
We were in the room now, in the game, locked in until we were done.