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Birthday Wishes, Part Two

Written by Marie on . Posted in Dominance, Fiction, My Dominant Sir, Submissive Wife, Swingers. No Comments on Birthday Wishes, Part Two

After being struck by the news that my birthday gift was to be put into some service for Marc I was understandably shocked; gagged-speechless, unable to move, there was nothing I could say or do but try to absorb the information as it came in.

Millions of concerns and questions circled in my mind… My intense dislike of Marc, though, paled in contrast to worry about the potential relationship consequences of being used by another man — did Blackie really know what he was doing to us?

As Blackie and Marc joked about how Marc would have to get himself a drink from the bar because I was “tied up at the moment,” I swallowed hard and tried to clear my head so that I could pay attention to whatever information I might learn. By the time Marc returned with his glass I thought I had composed myself; but when he sat on sofa, on the side opposite Blackie, resting his left thigh against my naked body, I jumped. At least on the inside.

Both men sat there, discussing whatever was on TV (I was completely oblivious to it by this time), as if this was just the same-old-same-old, while I tried to calm myself down. Fear was tightening in my throat. I could feel moisture growing under my arms. I tried to concentrate on slowing & controlling my breathing.

Blackie, who knows me so well, likely was aware of my efforts; so it was probably no coincidence that once I had more control of myself that the men began to talk about me — and talk about me as if I wasn’t there, or as if I were some object, not a sentient being.

“So, tomorrow morning, 8 A.M.?” Blackie casually confirmed.

“Yup, right after I do those few things on your list,” Marc replied before taking a swig from his glass, the ice tinkling as if laughing at me too.

“Because you know, we should celebrate the whole day, even if Pinkie isn’t really a morning person…” Blackie began then smugly chortled, “Not that I imagine she will sleep well at all tonight.”

“Eager little beaver, hmm?” Marc mocked.

“Oh, I imagine the anticipation will keep her as up tonight as her nipples are right now,” Blackie laughed, punctuating his point by tweaking my left nipple.

“Lovely, just lovely…” Marc said. “May I?”

“Of course!” was Blackie’s gracious reply.

And with that, Marc took a firm grip of my right nipple, slowly rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Now, that Marc, is not a flush of arousal; it’s a flush of anger,” Blackie pointed out, “A most delicious thing to see…”

“I suppose it is when you know you can wipe that smug refusal away anytime you wish,” Marc said, changing his grasp of my captured nipple from a firm rolling motion to a tight press that continued to hold as Blackie spoke.

“Oh, don’t worry, you’ll soon be doing what you want, when you want, no matter what her face says — in fact, you’ll do more than that. You’ll take what she believes she can refuse to give you. And, over time, you’ll soon have her dependent upon you — humiliated and hating herself for it too. And won’t that be delicious.”

Marc was silent for a moment, still holding my nipple firmly. Still silent, he jerked his hand downward, yanking my nipple and tit with it, then gave a slight twist before letting the nipple slip away and sending my breast bouncing. Then Marc stood on his feet, “Well, tomorrow we’ll start all of that, won’t we?”

He said goodbye to Blackie, then bent down before me, towering over me and looking me in the eyes, “You have sweet dreams, Pinkie, cuz tomorrow mine begin.”

Birthday Wishes?

Written by Marie on . Posted in Dominance, Fiction, My Dominant Sir, Submissive Wife, Swingers. No Comments on Birthday Wishes?

It was the Friday before my birthday weekend. I was home with Sir. He sat on the sofa; I was sitting at his feet in his favorite position: nude, on my knees (spread wide), my arms tightly bound behind me, back arched so that my breasts are up, with my head resting (if you can call it that) on the edge of the sofa cushion as Sir held my hair — looped around his wrist twice then held in his right hand.

In this position, I have very little range of movement (and over time, even less comfort); Sir has full access & control. I knew he had something in mind because I was also wearing the larger ballgag — something he usually reserves for very unreserved plans (or in hotel rooms etc., when we travel, to keep my noise down).

He sat, rather ignoring me, lazily playing with a riding crop in his left hand, keeping me on edge. There was a knock at the door. I jumped. As well as I could in my position anyway. I turned my head the inch I could and rolled my eyes at him, asking if he was expecting anyone. He steadily looked me in the eyes and said, “Marc is coming by to drop off some papers.”

Marc is a young guy Sir and I met at a bar recently. Sir noticed Marc had been staring at me and invited him over to sit with us at our table. I didn’t find Marc attractive at all. I fact, I thought he was arrogant, and deluded enough to think he had charisma. Sir has enjoyed my irritation every time our paths have crossed with Marc since, taking delight in making me be polite while Marc drooled all over me. Now Sir was claiming Marc was here, at our home? Invited even?

I thought he must be joking. If there was any mirth in my eyes, Sir stoically watched as it faded.

“It’s open, Marc,” Sir called.

Instinctively I tried to move, even though I knew I couldn’t. I felt Sir’s grip on my hair tighten just a second before he yanked it soundly.

Marc appeared out of the small foyer. He stopped dead in his tracks, drinking in the scene. “Damn,” he said, trying to reinstate his air of faux cool.

“Did you bring them?” Sir asked.

“Got ‘em right here,” he said, striding fulling into the room and proffering some papers to Sir, who waved them away dismissively. “I’ve got copies already.”

“Yeah?” Marc replied, who still couldn’t take his eyes off me, a miserable blush of a mess at Sir’s feet.

“Yeah, so why don’t you tell little Miss here what you’ve brought,” Sir commanded more than asked.

Marc took a few steps forward, so that he was right before me, towering over me, and placed some pages in front of me. They were at an angle, so I couldn’t read them — not that my addled brain could have made sense of even Mother Goose at that time.

“What I’ve got here,” he said, “are papers to fuck you — and fuck with you.”

I think I shook my head — to clear it, or in denial, I don’t know — but I felt the hairs strained in Sir’’s grip.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Sir breathed onto my neck, taking a nip of my left earlobe.

Location, Location, Location

Written by Marie on . Posted in DD, Deep Thoughts, Domestic Discipline, Dominance, Marriage, My Dominant Sir, my submissiveness, Submission, Submissive Wife. 2 Comments on Location, Location, Location

cuffed and submissive wife

So much of D/s, specifically TPE, is about an emotional response to an activity. A dominant wants control over a situation and a submissive’s actions, as well as their feelings about what is happening to them. Location plays a big part of this. Doing a scene in a child’s bedroom can bring about different emotional responses from different subs. Some may take on a child-like persona; some may just be distracted by how uncomfortable they are around a bunch of toys (Can you guess which one I’d be?). Clean freak subs could be completely thrown from the dirty floor they are kneeling on. If that’s the response that the Dom wants, then great. If not, then it could ruin the scene.

We do not have a set dungeon space in our house. As much as Sir wants to have one eventually in a new place, I’m not holding my breath. So, when we play, we are not always in the same area, or even the same floor. And, I have found, that the various locations around our home bring out a strata of emotions, no matter what we are doing. Whatever the emotion, however, Sir has control over the space and what he wants me to feel throughout our play.

Bedroom

Because, obvious. I couldn’t really talk about BDSM scene locations without mentioning the bedroom. It is my favorite place to play. Most often the only place we have sex (unless the kids are not home or passed out). I just feel the most comfortable there. I find myself more willing to do anything and try anything because of how comfortable and safe I feel. Our room brings out my submissive pet nature and often my most sexual side. I have my little bed on the floor that I can see during our scenes.

I am always pulled into my submissive headspace when I am in the bedroom. Even if he is at work and I am just going in there to get laundry. I feel a wave of comfort and safety. It’s a gooey slavey place for me.

Sitting Room (First floor)

I generalized this as the first floor as we usually start in the sitting room, but I often end up crawling the entire space. Most of our scenes are played by the couch and coffee table.

This is a very high protocol space for me. I am often leashed when we play and there is more of a focus on service. I serve Sir drinks, often on trays. Sir wants me to be on my toes so that I can respond to his whims. And I feel that. I am comfortable, but always aware. I am rarely blindfolded, but often gagged, so that I can see his reactions and signals and react wordlessly.

This is a surprisingly comfortable space for me. I feel safe the strictness of it all. It’s not completely routine, but I am used to not being allowed to cum when we play in the sitting room. I don’t expect it anymore. I can focus on cock worship and general service. If I do get to cum, Sir usually takes me upstairs to the bedroom first (see why I like the bedroom).

Bathroom

This is a much more confusing area for me. I find I am able to transition my feelings when I am in the bathroom when he is not there with me (which is good). But I am very apprehensive in the bathroom with him.

Last night I had to squat next to him while he peed. Then he had me ‘clean off’ his penis with my tongue. It was hot. But there is always a sense of wondering what he is going to do. Was that it? Was there more?

This space holds a lot of dichotomy. Showering together (though we rarely get the chance), is a very sensual and calming experience. But when he uses me as a urinal I feel humiliated. Both can be positive, given the right context, but it is a little unnerving to not know which I will leave the bathroom feeling when he follows me in.

Basement

I hate our basement. I’m not sure I can clarify that enough for you. I hate it. It’s dirty, full of boxes, and we have to take a baby monitor down with us as it’s so far away from the sleeping kids.

I also hate it because Sir’s sadistic side comes out in the basement. He can string me up down there. He makes me walk along ropes with knots hitting my clit while hitting me with a crop. It sounds hot. In fact, I’m not sure I would have such a negative response if he did the same thing in our bedroom. But in this case, it is very much the location that brings about a specific feeling. Unease and dread.

The basement is cold. I’m naked, often gagged, and with way too much time to look at all the dirt on the floor and places where I need to organize. There is something about the space that puts me in a submissive, but almost kidnapped headspace. And I’m sure that is where Sir wants me to be. I am my most vulnerable down there. I’m uncomfortable and I will do anything to get out of there. Including take as much pain as humanly possible. Thankfully, he doesn’t take me down there often as he knows what an emotional drain it is.

~

As much as I would love to have a dungeon play space in our next home, I enjoy moving around our house when we play. The variety of emotions is helpful to me, and I think also to Sir, to enjoy our TPE in new ways. So check out all the rooms in your home to find the fun (and frightening) you can have.

*This is a look at how I feel in different spaces during specific play. Your results WILL vary. Play safe.*