Thursday, January 19, 2017

Scissors and Face Slapping

Even after six years, Sir still surprises me.

On our anniversary, I fell asleep after dinner (I know), but the next day we more than made up for it.

Sir came into the kitchen to get himself a drink. He said he was sad because he had just submitted a resume and he already got a "we're not hiring" letter back [he is trying to find a job closer to my work, so we can move and have smaller commutes].

As he finished pouring his soda, I undid my robe, and raised my shirt up. 

"Does this help? Are you feeling less sad?"

He said, "I don't know..."

He flipped me around to face the kitchen window and groped me pretty thoroughly. I kept thinking about the neighbors getting an eyeful. Once he let me go, I came back in to him for a kiss. 

He pinned me there, keeping me against him for quite some time. Then he said I wasn't properly dressed. I looked down. I was wearing a pink camisole, pajama pants, and my big, fluffy, green Legend of Zelda robe. The picture of sexy, no?

But as he walked/pushed me over to the collar cabinet, I realized what he meant.

The BIG Collar.

He placed it around my neck, and spun me around pulling me to him, kissing me until I was fuzzy. He dragged me to the bedroom and threw me down on the bed.

He began hitting my breasts, at his whim. He'd leave, and go into another room. Come back, and start hitting them again.

I was still not appropriately dressed.

"How much do you like that shirt?"

"It's okay, why?"

"What do you think I have behind my back?"

It wasn't the metal spoon holder we use for impact. Or the chain flogger. I knew it was cold and metal, because it had (accidentally?) touched my feet. Finally my brain clicked.

"Scissors?"

"Very good."

Sir pulled out the pair of scissors. He drew them across my skin. He dug them into the fabric of my shirt, pulling so I could feel it. He  quickly cut away at the shoulder straps, before dragging the scissors down my torso, to the bottom edge of my shirt. Slowly, he started to cut it free. 

Somehow, my brain wanted more. I wanted to feel the blade hit my skin, and Sir obliged. I never thought I would be into knife play... or scissor play. Blade play. I'm pretty confident that if I dragged out that checklist we did way back in the day, it would rate very low; possibly even a soft limit.

It is amazing how things change.

Once my shirt was cut away, Sir resumed smacking my tits. Alternating with drawing the opened scissor blade across my chest. Pressing above my heart. Closing the blade, stopping just around my nipple.

The idea that he could just snap the blade through my nipple if he so chose... I am very glad he did not so choose but everything about it just had me in his thrall.

He resumed smacking my breasts and then... *Crack*

Sir slapped me right in the face. No warning. Nothing.

I don't recall Sir ever doing that before. He told me later he has done this once, but I honestly don't remember. I was completely stunned. At a loss for words. Not at all angry or upset, like I thought I would be. And very, very turned on.

After more swats to my chest, inner thighs, and feet, Sir had me move to the middle of the bed and began to fuck me. He continued to smack me right in the face at random intervals. Each time completely unexpected, and each time, releasing a wave of lust rolling through me. I kept looking up at him, touching his face, his beard. He had the smuggest look on his face. I guess he knew just how great he was doing. I'm not exactly subtle anymore.

Right after he made me come, he pulled out abruptly, another display of his control. I started crying, possibly starting even while I was still in the throes of orgasm. I wasn't sad, but tears were just rolling down my cheeks, and I couldn't really stop them. He allowed me to cuddle on him and pretty much cling there as tears streamed down my cheeks, forming a little puddle on his chest. 

Whenever I experience something new with him, I tend to have some kind of  intense reaction, and definitely want to cling. He said I could have all the time I needed. Once I was ready, I went back to him, to make sure he got to finish, too.


I've kept the shirt. I cannot bring myself to throw it away. Seeing it is a lovely reminder. Perhaps I'll sew it back together... and he can rip it open. Perhaps.

I keep thinking about that scene and my feelings on it. I'm surprised by my positive reactions to the blade play, and to the face slapping. I suppose the dominant and sexual context helps, especially for the slapping. I'm not sure that if he just walked into the kitchen with no prelude and cracked me one I would feel the same as I did in these moments.

But I'm so pleased that after six years, I feel like we are still growing, and that we're continuing to grow closer together.

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Six Sexy Years

I made it home in time for our anniversary! Both Sir and I were really pleased.

Six years. I say this every year, but it doesn't seem real. Time flies. It makes me feel old, as in, how can I be old enough to have had this meaningful relationship with anyone for this long? That is some adult shit right there.

Sir and I went out for a nice dinner to celebrate. We got all spiffed up. Sir really dislikes dressing up... he hates wearing ties. But he wore one for me. Just another one of those little things that shows his love, since he knows I like seeing him all formal once in a while.


Sir even managed a smile for this photo!
He selected this satiny dress for me to wear. 

We had a nice dinner out at a local brewery (which was actually a pretty fancy place), and then we came home. Sir said he "had plans" for me. We sat on the couch for a bit and I promptly passed right out though. Typical, haha. He elected to put me to bed. I told him that I could rally, but he told me to get the hell in bed!

The next day, he more than made up for it, though.

Thursday, January 12, 2017

Absence Makes My Heart More Submissive

I have been away house-sitting for friends in another state.

It is nice to have time away. Time with their little furballs (I do so miss having a little fluffy something in the house). Time to visit others without any real agenda. But the cost of all this is being away from Sir.

I knew I would be leaving and somehow this made me so much more willing to serve Sir. It was easier for me to get up early and make a special lunch for him for work. To make breakfast. To listen and respond to his commands with an open heart.

Why can I not be like that every day? What is it about knowing that you will be apart that makes a person more willing?

I have missed him very much, in more ways than one. His companionship, his opinions, his speech, his cuddles, and yes of course, his Dominance. I'm craving it, and it is making me needy, especially being so far away.

I should be returning this weekend, just in time for our 6-year anniversary.

I can't wait to put my arms, and other things, around him.


Friday, January 06, 2017

Inebriated Eve

This year, Sir and I had decided that we were going to spend Christmas at home. No crazy travelling trying to please everyone else. It helped that he had to work on Christmas Eve and the day after Christmas, not leaving us the time to drive out to family (we could, but we'd spend more time in the car than visiting if we did that, like we did for Thanksgiving)

Just before Sir got home from work, he called and said he could use a drink. So I went out to get him one. It was evening on Christmas Eve. The proper liquor stores were closed. I did find one weird distributor that was also a bar and also a Chinese food takeout place. So I got us some Apple Ale. After dinner, we cracked open the ale and.... got pretty drunk. This is a novelty for us, especially Sir, who very seldom drinks.

We had a good time watching the Yule Log on our TV and being a couple of silly drunks. We eventually decided that drunk sex was a grand idea... and it was. We had a great time with our uncoordinated sex efforts. Sir left quite a few enormous hickeys on my neck. When we went to visit his family a few days later I pretty much panicked the entire time trying to make sure they were hid.

I could get into this as a new holiday tradition for us - the appeal being in its rarity, of course!


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