Showing posts with label power exchange. Show all posts
Showing posts with label power exchange. Show all posts

returning the gift

Tuesday

Summer frock..she wore no panties that day, his instruction clear.
'..do you understand?'
'yes Sir'
'...is that clear?'
'yes Sir'
'...have you a clear understanding of my expectations?' 
'yes Sir'

In the next days she follows his instructions. She revels in her bare bottom, in cumming each day within her limit for him.

He asks her what she is thinking, he wants to know.
She is honest in her answer, questions about the immediate future, where this will lead..all sorts of mild anxieties ..but excitement inside that. Truth be told she loved to be nervous.

He tells her it is a mistake, wrong timing, ...'go back to where you were'.

The frustration explodes deep inside her. Anger fights to find a voice. How can he expect her to go back! He led her here, she gave him her power. He took it then handed it back. She feels his weakness.

Surprisingly she feels the hurt in this denial of what she needs.

Mentally she crosses him out of her experience. 


photo: Terry Donovan 2006

running away

Running away last night did me a world of good. I read my book, took a nice meal and some wine.

I was aware of  men around me, they caught my eye, I smiled and went back to my book. I think I would have chatted with someone had they approached me, the mood I was in was dangerous. Did they know my pussy was bare, that my fire engine red panties were thrust deep into my handbag. That under the skirt I wore I was accessible, easily.

Earlier I had received an instruction. I went immediately to the bathroom and slid my panties down. The glass of wine I had consumed encouraged me to touch, I was hot and wet. He was with me in that cubicle..on the little screen in front of me.

'Good girl.. now go back to the table.'

'I think I might come', I text back.

'Not now, later.'

Pouting a little I returned to the table. The texts were hot, sweet and fun. I felt freedom. I had runaway and found myself in a wanton mood. I smiled to myself as I remembered I had no panties on. That anyone around me might at any moment, know the slut in me.

I had taken some dinner, a couple of glasses of wine and read some more of my book while I sat feeling the cool metal chair on my naked thighs and bottom. Later I drove home in the warm spring night air, sitting with my skirt hitched up naked on the car seat and hoping my wetness wouldn't spread to where P would see it.

I came home and was treated kindly. P realising that my tantrum was unusual. Never before had I run away to 'enjoy' myself, to escape things that I just couldn't bare anymore. Later laying on the couch, my head swimming a little from the wine, he noticed I wasn't wearing panties. I had driven home without them. Driving very carefully..only two drinks but I cannot tolerate very much alcohol and I NEVER drive if I have even had one drink. I was risk taking. Not good.

He  asked when I had taken them off? Did I wear panties to work? Was I naked at the pub?  My brat came out. I took back my power..not very submissive but something my mentor said a day or so ago had resonated with me.

'Don't give him control if he can't take it and use it fairly.'

I am paraphrasing but I think that was the gist of it. I had hoped that by giving him control it would encourage him to become the man I need.

My reply to my husband was less than submissive.

'It doesn't matter when or why I did it, it is here if you want to use it..but I'm not going to tell you why!' I said it quietly but affirmatively.  I felt he didn't deserve answers.

He reached over and thrust his fingers into my wet pussy, he got harder and quite rough. I was a bit push and pull but mostly I liked it, wanted it and was surprised by it. When he had finished and I was breathless and horny. He pulled me over his knee and began to spank me with his bare hand (my favourite). The strikes became harder and harder. As he saw me struggling and shrieking in pain he paused between blows and rubbed my arse..so soothing. He never spoke..I didn't know if he was doing it for me or for him until,

'I love the red glow on your skin.'

Those words make me so happy, even proud when he says them. He pulled me up. Standing infront of him, his hand squeezing my bottom and his other my breast.

'I'm going to fuck your arse'.

I had lost my power..

He used me and took delight in it...

...and so did I :)


 

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