Archive for the ‘submissive thoughts’ Category
I’m crazy busy this week, but wanted to steal a moment to write about Sunday’s scene. (Which means: enjoy this post – it might be the only one you get from me this week!)
Mr Defeu and I mostly did normal vanilla couple stuff this weekend (errands, going out to brunch, him rebuilding my hard-drive on my lap-top while I cleaned the kitchen, snuggling whilst we watched an Inspector Morse – that sort of thing!) but as Sunday afternoon started to become Sunday evening, he said, “Well, girl, I think you need a spanking.”
I pretended that I thought that wasn’t such a great idea.
Eventually, he grabbed my arm and dragged me to the bedroom. I wasn’t really fighting or protesting or anything, just trying to hold myself in check from actually running into the room first, bending over the bed, and wiggling my ass invitingly at him.
He got comfortable on the bed, and it was suggested that I go find an outfit that would please him.
Off I went on my little mission (which I didn’t really have any choice about choosing to accept!) and came back in a grey striped shirt under grey sweater-vest, grey pleated skirt, white knee socks … and navy blue gym knickers. (We don’t seem to have any grey ones! How did we get in this strait?! Something must be done about this!)
Mr Defeu liked the outfit. He let me know this with both verbal and, erm, vascular compliments. He sat up on the bed, pulled me towards him, and let his hands run over me. I closed my eyes and let the rush of arousal overwhelm me. He has always had this effect on me – just the merest hint that we might do something kinky can get my body started up with physical responses that are well outside my control. (It amazes me, sometimes, if he growls something at me in that gruff sexy way, or even just looks at me a certain way, I can observe the immediate effects on my body. Even if I think I’m not so in the mood as all that, my body will instantly belie that!) Anyway, so there we were: him enjoying things from his toppy point of view, me feeling high as a kite on anticipation and submissive head-space.
He started by pulling me over his lap for a seriously hard spanking – if this was a “warm up,” then I was the Queen of England! – which is of course how we both like it best.
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I haven’t written about the dynamics about domination and submission for a long time on this blog. The reason being that Mr Defeu and I had needed to stop being 24/7 Master and slave when we went through some relationship issues a couple years ago. It was the most healthy decision we could make at the time, but it deeply hurt both of us to have to do it. We both want to get back to the correct balance of power (for us) as soon as we can — but we have to be careful to build up to it carefully and correctly (which we patently didn’t do the first time around!).
This past weekend, we took a step closer to that strongly-desired goal.
It was Sunday morning, and I woke up feeling generally upset. Well, specifically upset, on a him-and-me issue. I was supposed to join Mr Defeu in bed (due to insomnia issues, I’ve been sleeping in the loft bed in another room) as I do most weekend mornings (I miss sleeping with him, so I like to get in snuggles when we go to bed, and snuggles when we get up, which are the high points of sleeping with someone, anyway!). I joined him, but he could tell I was upset, and he held me while I composed my thoughts. I started telling him about them, and he suddenly stopped me.
“I want to try something,” he said, “I want to cane you, and have sex, before we have this discussion.”
Well, that stopped me dead in my tracks — I was not expecting that! Mr Defeu explained that he thought our discussion of the issues would go better after we had emotionally and physically connected.
Now, I was really not in the mood for sex, and really not in the mood for pain. If this had been earlier in my life, I would have flat-out said no. But I thought about what Mr Defeu had suggested, and it actually made a good deal of sense. We would be more in tune with each other after that, and thus more able to make it through the discussion in an entirely beneficial manner. It would undoubtedly work on all sorts of psychological levels for both of us. It was absolutely the right thing to do.
“But!” part of me whined, “I’m not in the mooooood! I don’t wanna!”
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Mr Defeu is off on a trip again, and so when I found this old post it really resonated with me…. Originally posted on 6th Oct 2008.
Mr Defeu got home last Thursday night, and I promptly got sick. And then he had family-crisis stuff to deal with. So the best I could do as his girl was to have yummy food prepared for him, and surprise him with his desk all cleaned and neat and polished. (Most of the house was supposed to also be this way, but see above about the getting sick part, which threw the wrench in those plans!) I was scared that the weekend would go by with just dealing with family stuff. And also, when I get sick, he gets all in Daddy mode and wants to snuggle and pamper me.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I like being snuggled and pampered as much as the next girl, but when it means his Mean Scary Dominant Self gets turned off – then I’m a sad girl, because I live for our scenes. When he growls roughly at me to do something, my knees turn to jelly and other parts of my anatomy do fascinating things. When he gets all sweet and loving, it’s great … but well, it’s like flavours. I like to eat sweet stuff (oh yes I do indeed!) but I also crave rich, hearty, savoury flavours as well. Think of discipline and the various pains of spanking, caning, etc., as Boeuf Bourguignon, and your favourite sort of pizza, and spaghetti the way your mom made it, and creamy Potatoes Au Gratin, and sushi, and chicken satay and Tom Ka Gai, and a Monte Christo or Croque Monsieur or your favourite sandwich or burger, and, and, and … all your favourite savoury foods!
Happily, some of that yummy stuff was coming my way. He said he needed a nap, early Sunday evening, and I despaired. But then he saw I was upset and pointed out that after the nap, he would be refreshed…. He slept for about 45 minutes, and then I went in and joined him in the bed, and snuggled with him as he napped, and just enjoyed lying in bed with him, feeling his warmth and hearing his breathing, as I looked out of the window at the night-time city lights.
Eventually he stirred, and reached for my hand, and pulled it down to his cock, which was obviously wide awake and ready for action.
I laughed with delight, and said, “You should take lots of naps, Sir!”
Then I didn’t say anything for a while, because I was sucking his cock.
I just rediscovered this post, due to the fact that a spammer had left a comment on it. I forget how many years of regular posting I have here, and much of that was migrated from Livejournal, so it’s not been properly tagged and incorporated into this blog, so lots of the early romance between Mr Defeu and me is just sort of sitting in limbo.
I’ve decided to repost them as I come across them (spammers do have a use, it seems!) and so here is the one I found today, that is very appropriate due to the face that Mr Defeu and I are very much in a gooey-romantic phase at the moment….
From 28th August 2007….
Mr D. was so sweetly romantic last night! I asked him if he’d read my journal entry, and he explained that he’d only read half, as his boss had walked into his office and he’d had to close the window. “But,” he added, “I do have one comment.”
“What?” I asked, a little scared that he might be upset with me about the post.
“Well, in that part where you say that despite the engagement ring on your finger, you can’t comprehend that it’s forever and ever … well, I thought you forgot an ‘ever’.”
“What –?” I asked, trying to follow the logic.
“Forever and ever and ever,” he said, looking at me with that earnest and open expression you only ever see on the faces of people who love you and trust you completely.
At which point I broke down and started crying and kissing his hand (which I’d been holding). “That’s what I really thought as I read it,” he assured me, which meant that I didn’t stop crying with happiness (and clinging to him) for some minutes!
He’s a big old sop of a romantic, he is! And, it makes me feel even more guilty for wanting him to go into another head-space when he’s enjoying the sweet and romantic one so much. I know that with the girls he was with before me, he didn’t get to explore that as much as he would have liked. He’s well known around the local kink scene for being a great Top (when I started dating him, I was rather bemused at how many bottoms came up to me and told me, somewhat wistfully, “You know how great he is, I hope….” For some it was just a kind — and true! — remark. For others … as if they were letting me know that if I didn’t work out with him, they’d be more than willing to replace me!
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Apologies all, for coming back with a vengeance and then disappearing again. I was all set to put some real time and energy back into this blog … but then the novel I’ve been wanting to write finally started flowing, and I’ve been putting all my energy into that, because I would actually like to get the thing written and published in this lifetime. I can only do so much writing in a day (and so much non-immediately-paying-work, or things start to get a little uncomfortable in the wallet region), so for the next I don’t know how many months, I’m only going to be up here when I can steal a moment or two from the novel.
A funny thing I wanted to write about writing the novel is that I’ve been working on a sex scene these past two days, and it’s taking me way longer to write what is essentially a vanilla sex scene than it would to write a nice spanko piece of erotica. Not that I wouldn’t put a spanking scene in the novel, but it’s not the right place for it in that spot. Since it’s not a spanking scene, I’m trying to write a really good vanilla scene — one that authentically turns me on, but is not too filthy to sell to a normal publisher. (Although I have been noticing that novels now can have scenes as explicit as any porn — it’s just a matter of not having them be too kinky without at least a tenuous reason.)
So, it’s taking me waaaay longer to write this quite basic scene, then it would for me to write a much more intricate spanko one. Amusing.
Also amusing: Chross just recently posted a James Bond clip I’d forgotten all about, but which certainly turned me on when I was a teenage girl watching the all Bond flicks for the first time:
Of course, now I’m going to have, “Gold — fingah!” being sung in my head all day by Shirley Bassey. [sigh]
I see Chross one Bond film, and raise him a Star Trek spoof with equally delightful sexism:
The whole joy of being a post-feminist, I feel, is getting to eroticise being treated like a brainless “little lady,” a second-class citizen who is expected to stay at home and keep out of the men’s way, dear, we’ve got some real business to attend to. Why don’t you go make us some coffee, there’s a good girl!
There’s something so hot about that for me. That casual, “I can slap your bottom any time I like because I’m the superior man, and you are basically a pet who can do the cooking and wash up (if you don’t need someone with superior brains and/or strength to fix something first, that is, in which case I will shake my head and give you the help you need with noblesse oblige oozing out of my ever-so-superior pores).” I like that I can choose to live in (or visit!) that world. (Of course, it’s the fact that it’s a choice that makes it hot, so I thank my bra-burning fore-mothers for that.)
It reminds me that the other night Mr. Defeu and I were watching TV, and there was something on about a culture (or something — I’m blanking on it, now) where the women are inferior to the men. I turned to him and gave him a nudge and said, “Oh, like in Blushes or Janus! That’s your sort of world!”
“No,” he replied with the calm smile of someone about to smoothly deliver a punchline, “Not inferior … just different .. and subordinate!”
Phwoar! (A., What a sexy delivery — I’m so turned on by that sort of thing, and B., that relaxed and certain superiority is just what I was talking about above as being hot for me. Double whammy!) That sort of thing just makes me want to go off and have the kind of hot kinky sex where I am obviously there for his pleasure, because that’s what a wife is for, to serve and please her husband, right?!
Ooooh! I’m all hot and bothered, now. Maybe must go have a moment of, ahem, personal relief before I go back to writing my novel!