I’ve been greedy – or perhaps needy is a better word. I have had two sessions in ten days. One a month is more normal. The first was wonderful but left me needing the second. That was wonderful too but my reactions to the two sessions could not have been more different.
I’m waiting in the shade, across the road from her apartment.
Waiting for it to be time to walk over the road, go down the steps and knock on her door.
I’m already nervous because I’m pretty sure she’s going to cane me as soon as I walk in. Cane me hard. Cold. It’s going to hurt.
A beep from my phone announces the arrival of a text.
If it gets too much…..
Pulse racing I walk down the steps.
A description of what happened next is here.
More sin here:
Sometimes a session will follow a set plan, carefully thought out beforehand, perhaps even written down. Sometimes a session will just evolve, the Mistress letting it develop its own rhythm in response to how she feels and to the reactions of her submissive. My last session with Mistress Elita was most definitely the latter type. I arrived expecting corporal punishment but what happened, while just as testing, was something else entirely.
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I loved the image for this week’s ‘Night World’ Wicked Wednesday prompt. I could just imagine walking down this street to meet a Mistress, all fear and anticipation. That was what I started to write but I found my imagination wandering into very different, and much darker, territory….
Looking at the image below, a regular reader of my blog would assume I was in for another session of submission, bondage and pain. They would be a wrong. These toys, so carefully laid out, belong to a submissive with whom I recently spent a (very) happy hour or so. These are Katie’s toys.
After I took the picture, Katie emerged from the bathroom, demure in a black negligée. I spanked her bottom, and flogged her back. As I am just wired that way, I had her hit me with the paddle. We traded blows, enjoying each other’s sharp intake of breath; enjoying the challenge in each other’s eyes.
At the end I had her lie over some pillows. I used one hand to wield the cane; not hard, just enough for her to revel in the sharp sensations, while the other rubbed her clitoris, bringing her to an intense, shuddering sensory-overload orgasm.
And, do you know what? To watch her come was just delicious.
More sin here:
It lives in an inner compartment in my briefcase; a gift from a Mistress I used to see ten or fifteen years ago.
A simple thing; a leather cock-strap with little spikes, seven rings of five little spikes.