Update! Back with a Vengence!

As much as I hate to do it I am gunna. Its my blog and y'all can't stop me! I will finish my Degustation Menu but I have to side line it while I work through it both in script and in my head. I have struggled writing anymore about my indulgent weekend because it is scrambled up and there are things I want very much to write about but that I don't because...well I just don't...so I have been trying to figure out how much I put out there and how much not to . I have another site that I post to that was intended to be for me to vent. Sir reads it too apparently - I swear he is like a CIA agent (and I secretly love it).

Update Update Update

I am sure you have all been dying to know. I was in a world of drop unlike I could possibly have foreseen. I had a big tantrum. I refused to contact Sir (because he should have been checking on me). Eventually my tantrum subsided and he was there to scoop me up. He did not get angry, just accepted and understood where I had been and allowed me to come back in my own time. Something about my submission being a gift freely given - not taken or taken for granted. I promised him that no matter what I would be in communication with him.

I have kept my promise of communication and honesty. I have written and bared my soul. I have told him anything I could possibly think of that he may find interesting - and some things that are not. I told him how my desires have evolved and shifted. I told him about new things I want to try. It would appear that once hard limits are now a bit soft around the edges.

Another interesting development is that I have arranged to meet a friend to check out a local swingers club this Friday - Kate who sometimes comments here. Sir will escort us. He tells me it is no place for me to go unaccompanied. Perhaps he is right. I am very much looking forward to it.. We are each (Kate and I) checking to see if it will be a suitable place to take our respective husbands.

SO

I knew it. I knew I had this new shiny bit of sub-ness not available to me before. I wanted it. I loved knowing it was there. I was scared of what it would look like in real terms, splayed out there for him to see.

He had a sore back. I knew he would just be getting home from work so I text him and asked if he wanted a massage (subtle, no?) I told him I was serious and I would bring some oils over. He said sure - but you will bring your stuff too. Of course Sir.

The drive over was so fun. My music was cranked and I had not an ounce of the terror that had gripped me previous trips. I sang loud (no promises of talent though). I was excited to be going. I was excited to be seeing him.

Usually I am met there with the door half open and I creep in under his arm. He was not there so I waited (all of two seconds) and he appeared and opened the door for me - chivalrous as ever. The door was locked behind me. I had my bag in hand and went to walk up the stairs to his room. He went past towards the kitchen. He said something about having a cigarette first so I tried to back track but he laughed and swatted my arse and said Nooooo. Upstairs we went. I pulled out my massage stuff and he stripped down and lay on the bed. My what a turn of events! Here I was clothed (well I had a dress on and no bra or panties - I have deemed them to be somewhat of a waste of time now) and here was he naked on the bed. He kept chuckling and saying "you are loving this". I was.

I massaged his back and put some chinese white flower oil on it. I was worried about bringing the white flower oil because it burns like a motherfucker and I was a bit worried about where else it had the potential to end up. I stowed it back in my bag and kept that idea under my hat.

Then it started. I sucked his gorgeous cock for a bit. He asked if I had missed it. I had. He reminded me that I had missed the potential for another tryst with the Divine One (which I did not know until after and YES I was sorry about that but at that point I was still, mid-tantrum - what is a sub to do?) I knelt before him and he slapped my face and I loved it. In the past it has made me annoyed or shocked or submit just to make him stop but this time...He slapped me twice I think on each cheek and I just...wanted it...needed it. I needed to know, to remember - to be his again. I felt my chest swell with each whack. It made me dizzy and deliriously, happily his. He spanked me - again with the deliriously happy.

He pulled the whip out and started hard out. I cannot take too much of it. Pretty soon I was sobbing. I needed to sob. He would reach his hands out and rub my back, then THWACK THWACK. I tried really hard to stay relaxed, to not try to anticipate whether it would be his hands soothing or the whip biting. At some points I was more successful than others.

He walked me to the wall and I stood, legs spread, arms above my head, forehead on the wall. He started with the whipping. I wish he would start slower, softer and build in. He never does. He starts at where I can just withstand it and builds in from there. I did suggest to him at the end of our evening that he could just hit me softer and he laughed so hard I thought he would injure himself.

He pulled out a different whip and dropped it once across my back. FAAAARK! That is some serious pain! I do love the mark it left though...I want the marks without the whipping. He put the ball gag on me and whipped me some more until I was at the end and I could not take anymore.

He was there behind me and I could feel him breathing. He ran his nails down my back. It seriously sends me over the edge. He started right at the top and grated them down my back over and over and I wanted to cum so badly that I could not speak to ask permission. He bit me, bit into my back and it was fucking delicious. He stepped back and bade me cum. I came. Never one to disappoint he bade me cum again...and again and again and again...

It washed over me, cleansed me. Made me new again. My legs started to shake and give way, my arms started to fall. He demanded I keep my arms up and then told me to cum again. My knees started to buckle. He decided in his infinite Domly wisdom that at this point it would be a good time to have me get on my toes. Wow, yes. That is totally what I was thinking - not how about I just crawl on my hands and knees on the floor and dissolve at your feet. I was totally thinking how about I get up on the tips of my toes and cum some more. I love it how we sync like that! (I have heard somewhere sarcasm is unbecoming - I have yet to be presented with sufficient evidence to back that theory)

I was struggling. Every cum I could feel my knees pull in tighter, my back arch. The wall was cool on my head. I had sweat flowing in rivers down my back. My knees would start to give. My muscles burned and he was there, calm, "Again - now" and I did. Over and over. I was (I am sure) begging to stop. He told me at one point that if I moved my feet to the floor I would earn 50 whip strikes. That seemed pretty good motivation. I came and came and came while my calves burned like hell and my thighs shook - until I could not stand for one more second. Until I could not cum again.

Then he took me down (I swear to God I felt as though I had been tied there) and walked me to the middle of the room. He pulled my nipple and my eyes grew wide. Noooooo I just could not do it. He stopped me - held me up. He grabbed a nipple between each of his thumb and forefingers. "Look into my eyes, there is nothing but me. You can do this, you can take this." I looked into him. I am sure he was doing unspeakable things to my nipples with his fingers, pinching and pulling harder and harder. While I held his gaze I did not notice. Then the command came again "Cum" and I came - hard. Really hard. It was intense and amazing. As soon as I came my knees gave way slightly and I grabbed his shoulders, digging my nails in. My head lolled back a bit and as soon as I lost eye contact my nipples BURNED! "Look at me. Stay with me. You can do this." and I was back with him and there was nothing. Over and over we danced this twisted dance until I thought I would pass out.

Finally I was done, I sucked his cock and my lusty cunt was fed until I melted and gushed (twice he tells me) and I was permitted to lap at his cum.

We chatted for a while and shared a cigarette or two (yes, I am still convinced I don't smoke).

I have been on a very major blissed out high for a few days now but I have had cause to think. I have been asked a few curly questions by friends and family lately. What is a girl to do? My new standard line is to look them squarely in the eye, smile and say "I have recently implemented a don't ask, don't tell policy." Evokes a few raised eyebrows when there are teeth marks on your back...


PS I have missed you all very much and am enjoying catching up on everyone - xxx JaT

Breathing It In

My body burns like fire. I sit here trying to think of what to write but the words don't come. I can only feel the emotion coursing through me as I try to remember yesterday. It is framed as if far off in the distance, too long ago to recreate. All I am left with are shining shards of pain and bliss.

I left Sir and picked up my children, collecting on my way a friend to come for dinner. More people arrived and I cooked and drank tea. I felt quiet. I felt all of a sudden as though I were falling through the floor. I needed him. I wanted Sir. I messaged him, he replied. I was all at once okay. I felt needy and awful - both unfamiliar to me.

My husband came in. He brushed his lips on mine, looked down, deep into me and smiled a half smile, questioning wordlessly whether I was okay. We sat and ate and drank, laughed and talked. I could see him burning to know, to see, to understand. Eventually our guests departed, children bathed and in bed. I lay on the couch, half sleeping, he rubbed my feet and asked me to recount my afternoon. I was not in the frame of mind.

I showered while he worked for a while. I lay face down on our bed and called him in. He was horrified. He tells me he doesn't understand. Softly I explain to him small pieces as he rubs arnica (which I highly recommend for bruises) and calendula (for healing) into my back and arse.

I tell him fragments. I tell him that I cried.

Sir said yesterday that I love crying. That it turns me on. I thought about it. It does not. What turns me on is that he can take me to that space where I cry and hold me there. The crying itself I do not like.

There was a moment yesterday where I was crying, sobbing actually. He was whipping my back. He has a knack for hitting right in the same spot, over and over. He leaned down and rubbed my back, soothed it. Then he started again. I loved it. I loved in the moments where it was not so hard but hard enough and I felt I could just go on forever, breathing it in.

Then there are the moments when I back my car out of the driveway and I know I am never going back. I know for that second that I do not want this, that I will not be back here. Then it shifts to won't be back for a long time, or at least a while and before I am home I am ready to turn around drive back.

My husband does not understand. He tries. I am amazed at him, so in love with him. I cannot believe how fortunate I am to have someone love me enough to give me this, without understanding it, because I want it.

Today I relish the pain, I love it. I love that every movement, every stretch and turn I feel it. In my bound nipples Sir makes himself known to me. Stops me from falling through to desperation, holding me up through my pain and obedience.

My phone sounds and I jump, literally running to the other end of the house to get it. I know it is Sir. I am waiting for his message. In that moment I forget the pain in my breasts, the bruised assault on my back, the tenderness in my arse. I run like a child runs to a sprinkler on a hot summer day, with joy and forgetting and in that moment there is nothing else.

I think somehow that my husband is amused by all of this, perhaps morbidly fascinated is a more accurate turn of phrase. The most glorious moments are coming home to him. Him caring for me, loving me and the exquisite pain of him rubbing - firmly - into the whip marks left by Sir only hours before.