The oldest profession…

Three things in particular made splitting up with Naughty so hard:

1. Habit
2. Unemployment
3. Ambiguity

To expand:
The whole time Naughty and I were ‘together’ we stayed in touch the whole time. SMS messages during the day, IM in the evening. Phone calls. Emails. Webcams. The too-short and too-rare actual visits.

What this meant was that I was firmly in the habit, for half a year or so, of talking to, and therefore thinking about, Naughty almost constantly throughout the day. Which meant that when we split up…

Worse, it happened shortly after I left my university course and was waiting to start on my trip abroad. I wasn’t at work, I wasn’t actually doing anything at all. When I split up with my long-term ex last year, I had just started on a very demanding part of the course. I was very busy. And I was just starting to talk to Naughty. I had plenty to keep my mind off things. When I split up with Naughty.. I had nothing to keep me from brooding. Really didn’t help.

Lastly, Naughty phrased the “We’re splitting up” part along the lines of: “It’s over, but I’m doing it with hope that if we’re apart then things will stop going wrong and we can get back together.”

I don’t doubt her sincerity, but this was a very unhelpful thing to say: It meant that I didn’t know if it really was OVER, or if she just needed a break from the stresses of the relationship, or wanted me to “win her back” or what. Should I walk away and not say anything to her, should I do everything I could to be there for her, what did she want??

All in all, it was a hard breakup. For us both. And still, every now and again, wherever I may be or whatever I may be doing, my brain will suddenly throw up a “Remember Naughty” moment.

It’s a lot better than it used to be. I had to stop listening to the radio in the car, which I’ve done since learning to drive, because everything on it was either a song I’d come to know when I was getting to know her, or a love song that reminded me of her. Or her absence.

Now, it’s just a sudden something that’ll pop up and put me in a bit of a low mood for a while. Like yesterday. I was in Amsterdam, having spent several hours on a guided tour. It being one of the places you HAVE to see while you’re there, I was wandering the Red Light District. And at once place, I went past a BDSM-themed sex shop. And suddenly had an image of how much fun it would have been to take Naughty to one of these, when we were together. She’d have been all shy and embarassed, constantly hiding her face, I’d have been able to tease her that I was going to buy some extreme bit of kit, we might have bought one or two things that we WOULD have used… that kind of thing.

Bang went my good mood. Suddenly, I wasn’t enjoying a walk around an interesting new city. I was stuck in a foreign city, on my own.

I’m getting really sick of this happening.

So I decided, Sod it. Let’s sample the tourist attractions: Amsterdam is famous for both marijuana and prostitution being legal.

And I don’t smoke.

There’s a LOT of prostitutes, each has small room with a glass front looking onto the street, where she can be seen by passers-by. When you decide on the one you want, you just walk in and get greeted with a price. I was told bluntly “Fuck and suck, 50 euro”

That was what the tour guides had said was the going rate. I agreed to it, and was lead to the small and dimly-lit back room, where I paid up-front. I was rather surprised that she asked if I wanted to use a condom or not for the oral part. Have they no sex education here??

I opted for a condom all the way through. It was quite an experience, getting a ‘professional’ blow job: One of those little regrets I have with Naughty was that we never got around to all the practice she wanted at her oral skills. She never believed she was any good at it. She really wasn’t bad, but I have to admit this lady was better.

She was also the first girl I ever had sex with who had small boobs. Every previous ex of mine has been at least DD. Small breasts are very different, aren’t they? Very perky…

Anyway.. after a little while, we moved on to actual sex. Went on for quite a while, I was given a “two minutes” warning near the end. Just about made it by switching to doggy-style.

So.. overall impressions?

It was strange. It wasn’t anywhere near as awkward as you might expect.. you both just get on with it. It being the first time I’ve had sex out of a committed relationship, I was surprised at how easy it was.

It’s a totally different type of sex, though. Even on a one-night stand type event, you’ve two people wanting mutual fun. You make at least some effort to make sure your partner enjoys him or her self. With a prostitute, there’s none of that: She’s not there to have fun, she’s not really going to, whatever you do, so you just get on and do what you want.

It’s kind of liberating. Nothing to worry about but making sure you finish in time.

So.. was it worth doing? At least once, yes. It was an experience.

Would I do it again?

…

I doubt it. It was kinda disturbing. She muttered a few things under her breath, I couldn’t understand her language but she didn’t seem to be having a great deal of fun. I didn’t like that.

And after, she mentioned her age. Same as Naughty. I hadn’t realised she was that young. That’s when it got really disturbing. It was too easy to see Naughty’s face in the place of this working girl’s. That image makes me feel ill.

I had no idea what drove this girl to her chosen profession, whether she was reluctant but had no other choice, or had wanted to do it. I sure couldn’t ask. It was obvious when I was there that I was a long way from being her first customer. But still…

It’s easy to ignore all the morality things when you’re dealing with “a prostitute” but if anything makes that veneer slip aside and you start thinking of her as a real person.. or seeing a real person in her place.. that’s when it gets hard.

I still haven’t made up my mind about where things are going to go with Feisty. I still don’t know if I’ll ever see, or even talk to, Naughty again - she’s changed her IM screen name without telling me, and I’m out of the country. And though I still keep geting those moments of “I miss her” they’re now more “I miss being with someone I love” rather than “I miss Naughty herself.”

But one thing I have made up my mind about: I might not be an angel, and I might be a bit of a manipulative bastard sometimes. But I do like who I am, and I’m not going to put that in jeopardy by screwing around with girls I don’t have feelings for. Paid-for or otherwise.

First meetings

I’ve been thinking about my first meeting with my first sub, Naughty, recently.

I’d being talking to her for months online by then, but we were both still slightly nervous. I’d insisted on us agreeing that we weren’t going to have sex on our first meeting, even though we were spending the night together, simply because it would clear out any uncertainty and make it easier to enjoy just meeting each other at last.

I reached the meeting place first, and went and stood in a corner to one side, where I was almost certain to see her before she saw me. Something I did at most of our subsequent meetings too: She was always nervous and shy, it was a little game of giving her a few moments of “He’s not here!” panic just so that her relief when she saw me would be that much greater.

So I did indeed see her before she saw me. And I’ll admit to something here that I never would before: I was a little bit disappointed.

Partly because there’s a little bit of a romantic hidden deep inside me, and there’s always that hope of “eyes met across a busy street” things… But partly because of how she looked. I’d seen a lot of photos of her by then, but she looked very different in each of them. I didn’t really know what she looked like. Finally meeting her in the flesh, she was in a somewhat unflattering coat, and she didn’t look as pretty as she did in some of the photos.

It didn’t bother me, I should explain: It was who she was that had drawn me to her. The fact that she looked very pretty in some of her photos was just a bonus. But in the flesh, she didn’t look the same.

Not at that point, anyway. She had the most changeable face I’ve ever seen. Right then, she just looked nervous, and it didn’t suit her. Shortly after, when we were in a Starbucks getting drinks, she was less nervous but very shy, and looking quite cute.

Later that night, when we were in bed together and she was clearly very comfortable with me, I saw her contented face, which was adorable. And I saw her sub face for the first time, that eyes-downcast, slightly sad, expression. Most of all, though, I saw the face I most loved, the face she had when she was just happy and smiling. She looked a totally different person when she smiled like that: Her whole face lit up. I loved making her smile.

But that was then and this is now. And she’s not that person any more. I don’t know why she changed so much, so abruptly, but she did. And my Naughty left me, and I don’t know the woman she became. And though there’s not a day that goes past when I don’t think of her or feel the pain of losing her, I’ve accepted that she’s gone. And I’m moving on.

Quite a few weeks ago now, I signed up to a well-known BDSM personals site. Not really because I was looking at the time: I just wanted to look around it, really. Apart from anything else, I was due to leave the country for a while so didn’t really want to start a correspondence with somebody only to interrupt it so near the start.

So I looked around, and saw that it was indeed still populated by a lot of fakes but there were a few genuine-looking profiles that I made a note of for later. Other than that, I really didn’t do much.

All the same, I got contacted out of the blue by a young lady who’d seen MY profile. So I sent a reply and we chatted for a little while. Nothing terribly involved or even particularly BDSM-related for the most part. Just two people talking and getting to know each other a little. I thought it was very unremarkable.

I’d forgotten to factor in what some of the MEN on BDSM sites can be like. I daresay some of you know the ones: The ones who think “On your knees, bitch” is a clever opening line, or who think that anyone who says they’re submissive will do whatever they’re told by anyone who says he’s a Dom. It appears that being able to just hold an intelligent conversation places me in a very small minority, on that site at least.

But then I left the country as planned, with every expectation of being away for a month or two. But due to unforseen events, I came back briefly after a couple weeks. And my new friend, whom I shall name Feisty on this blog in honour of her screen name on that site, asked if I could meet her whilst I was back. And so yesterday, I did.

Sometimes, I think I’m a complete bastard. Other times, I wish I was more of one. I can never quite decide where I am on that scale. When I met Naughty, I already knew I adored her. I didn’t care about her looks. The fact that she turned out to be mouth-wateringly gorgeous to me was pure icing on the cake. So when she’d told me, before our first meeting, of how nervous she was that I wouldn’t like her, or I wouldn’t find her attractive, etc, I was able to reassure her easily. It wouldn’t matter to me if she was too shy to speak, said silly things out of nervousness, or looked different to her pictures.

She did all of those things, and true to my word, they didn’t bother me at all. I knew who she was behind all the nerves, that was all that mattered to me.

But when I met Feisty yesterday, and she had most of the same nervousness.. I couldn’t reassure her nearly so well. I didn’t know her that well. I certainly didn’t adore her like I had Naughty. I could think of a dozen things that I could have said to her, things that I had said to Naughty, that would have set her mind at ease. But I couldn’t say them, because I wouldn’t have meant them.

Hence that “Am I a bastard?” question. I calmed Naughty down a lot before our first meeting by saying things that I said for no other purpose than reassuring her. I was being very manipulative and subtle with some of the things I said. But the thing is.. I meant them. I was using tricks from psychology books rather than my own words to calm her down.. but I was doing so because I cared for her and wanted her to not be scared. I never said anything to her that I didn’t mean.

And I haven’t with Feisty either. It would have been so easy to say something really reassuring.. but it would have been fake. It would have just been cold-hearted manipulation. So I couldn’t do it. I just had to muddle through as best I could with the things I COULD say and mean.

It seemed to work. We met up OK and went for a meal. Despite having met via a BDSM site as sub and Dom, I didn’t bring it up at all for quite some time. Perhaps some would say that a Dom should be a Dom right from the start. Maybe a Dom should, but I’m not going to play a part. I was just myself, me meeting a young lady I didn’t know very well, not some imaginary Dom meeting a fictional sub.

I think that more than anything calmed her down. And she was a nice girl, and we got on very well together.

Cold-hearted bastard time: How does she compare to Naughty?

She’s not as pretty as Naughty. She doesn’t have as nice a body as Naughty. She doesn’t dress as nicely as Naughty.

On the other hand, she’s not nearly as fragile as Naughty. I was forever on a knife-edge with Naughty, balancing perilously between her deep thirst for submission and her deep need to be protected and reassured. Every single order I ever gave Naughty, I put a lot of thought into first, assessing how it would affect her. This was a girl who loved to be told she was “my slut” but was worried and asked for reassurance after I called her “a slut” - everything I did with her had to face that kind of subtlety. She loved to submit and please me, but could be made to feel cheap and used by the same thing. She was very hard work. Very pleasant work, but very hard.

Feisty, not nearly as hard. We went into one of the London parks and sat in the shade under some trees in the afternoon. Although it was our first meeting, I pushed her far further than she’d have thought she would have willingly gone. And on our first meeting, I pushed her in ways I wouldn’t have ever dreamed of pushing Naughty.

Naughty wouldn’t have liked me stroking her breasts in public. Neither did Feisty. But I over-ruled Feisty as I never would have Naughty, and pinned her arms down with one hand and fondled her breast with the other.

Later, she tried on “being bratty” as she put it, refusing to let me fondle her breasts under her top. I told her to behave, but she refused, challenging that “you don’t like hurting subs to punish them, what are you going to do?”

I wouldn’t have pushed Naughty even so far as to get a refusal from her. Feisty, I not only pushed, I shoved. After re-pinning her arms, I slowly pulled her top down so her breasts became gradually uncovered. She pleaded with me not to expose her in public, and I continued until she promised to behave. Then I went back to playing with her breasts as she obediently let me.

Under cover of her jumper laid over her, I pulled her breasts out of her bra and played with her nipples: Small nipples for such large breasts. As we laid together on our sides, my arm was hidden from view as my hand slid down her skirt and into her knickers. It was nice, after so many weeks, to hear a girl pleading to be allowed to come after being wound up for hours. She puts even Naughty to shame with the little gasps and moans she makes when she gets worked up.

Later, she rolled over to her other side, and as I continued to play with her breasts, hidden still under her jumper, she put her hand down my jeans and stroked my cock for a while.

If there had been any privacy available, I could have taken it a lot further. Apparently I’m very good at reassuring nervous submissives: This is two for two who met me nervous and expecting not to be able to go any further than just friendly chatting, and ended up giving up their bodies to me. Naughty I took to a hotel room and played with and masturbated and made kneel to submit and suck my cock, and was woken by that night with the plea to come over her breasts; Feisty I took to a quiet part of a busy park and played with and masturbated, and only didn’t go further because the option just wasn’t there.

And I must say, I’m not sure how much further I would have wanted to go. For all that we got on well.. she’s still almost a stranger to me. I don’t like my own motives. I’ve told her some of the things I’d do to her if she were my sub, and she’s liked all of them so far. Including things, again, which I never would have pushed Naughty into.

But I’m willing to push her so far not just because she wants me to, but because she doesn’t matter to me as much as Naughty did. I loved Naughty, I wouldn’t have made her do something I’d enjoy that she wouldn’t because I couldn’t enjoy anything that she didn’t enjoy too. Feisty.. I could. E.g. Naughty was of the opinion that leaving her tied up and ignoring her for hours, except for occasionally groping her or making her suck my cock, would have been a huge turn-on. I never did it, because I couldn’t have enjoyed her just sitting there being ignored like that. She wouldn’t have enjoyed it outside of a fantasy.

I don’t have that reservation with Feisty. With her, I’d be willing to take the “Me Dom, you sub” stance and make her do it just because I want her to.

And I’m not sure that that’s a good thing.

So I’m leaving the country again in the next day or two. And thinking it’s just as well, really.

Frustrating submission

Wow, been a long time since I posted here..

So, my sub is now my ex, sadly enough. We’re trying to stay friends, but my God is she not making it easy.

When we split up, she gave only the vaguest of reasons. She needed us to split up, she wanted us to stay friends and to keep talking.

So we did. Not that it was easy. She was very hard to talk to. But I persevered.

Fast forward a month or two, and she finally gives an explanation: She’d felt stifled in the relation ship, like she was losing herself, and needed to get some distance between us so she could stay “her”. And because, having taken her at her word, I had kept on talking to her, it had been so hard to get that distance that it had created such resentment that she felt that the relationship was irreversibly damaged.

Sigh. If only I’d been born a mind-reader.

I told her, in no uncertain terms (I thought) that she should have placed more importance on getting what she needed than on what she thought I wanted. And that she should do so in future.

Yesterday, we had a conversation. It was a difficult one, and after a string of responses from her along the lines of “No” “ok” “ok” “fun” “ok” I finally lost my temper, and told her I’d talk to her again sometime when she was less mono-syllabic. And logged off.

I discovered some hours later that she’d sent me a text message, incensed at how I didn’t seem to understand that she was working very hard and busy and didn’t have time to talk to me if she was ever going to get through everything she needed.

It’s probably lucky that it took so long, because otherwise I’d have been very tempted to snap back.

Has her damned insistence on giving me what she thinks I want instead of doing what she knows she should not done enough damage already??

Is it really so hard to say “I can’t talk right now, catch me later”??

I know that an eagerness to please is part of what makes a sub a sub. But really.. there ARE limits!

Update

It’s been very quiet here. I apologise for the lack of an update. I had planned a lot, but “The best laid plans…”

It’s been quiet here because things have been ‘quiet’ between myself and my girl since our last visit. They came to a head at the weekend, and we are now ‘officially’ split up.

I can’t say it came as a total shock, but it was an unwelcome one. We’re still friends, still talking, although a little strained at times.

The rest of her life has become exceedingly stressful, and I suspect that, in a similar way to when I briefly broke up our relationship, the stresses of ‘us’ were simply one burden too many. She’s not quite out of her teens and still living with her parents, who don’t know about me; we’re 200 miles apart; she’s over-worked and under-appreciated. Despite how much we matter to each other, there comes a point when that isn’t enough and the stresses of a relationship become harder to cope with than the pain of ending the relationship.

In a few months time, all going to plan, she will be out of her unpleasant work situation and moving home. It’s possible that when the rest of her life has eased off, and the barriers between us are much reduced, we will be able to resume the relationship. It’s also possible that the break will never heal. Only time can tell. I haven’t decided what to do with this blog yet, but I think it unlikely that I will be posting much for a while.

I would like to thank those of you who have read and commented for your time, and assure you that nothing would give me greater pleasure than to continue to maintain this blog. However, updates will be unfortunately sparse for the time being.

More is less?

My girl came to visit over the easter weekend. And a very nice visit it was too. Unlike the last planned multi-day visit, we didn’t end it prematurely or anything.

Oddly enough, I felt less inclined than normal to get involved with the BDSM stuff. So did she, mostly, although she did admit (after I spanked her rather hard) that she’d been wanting a spanking since she arrived. Part of that may have been due to the presence of my flatmate and the lousy weather (It was way too cold for her to go out in just a karada and a coat, for instance) Partly I just wanted to enjoy her company, which doesn’t fit in well with a meek, quiet sub…

I did deliberately overdo it right at the start tho. She’s always very shy when we meet, it takes her a while to relax and get comfortable being with me. I don’t mind this at all, but it bothers her - she worries that I *do* mind it. She told me a few days beforehand that I shouldn’t let her be shy. I knew this was bad advice, so I made a point of following it to prove it to her. First time she’s had a spanking she didn’t enjoy…

Anyway. We did fit in some time for BDSM while she was here. She’s getting quite used to anal play: To the point that I actually used one of the toys on her. In fact, it was a toy I’d used many times before, but not in this way: She didn’t know that the flogger was in fact a butt plug as well, one of the “pony play” range…

I could have gone as far as actual anal sex without any trouble, but I held off. I didn’t want to rush her, and to be honest, I just didn’t feel any inclination to do it this time. Besides, it gives me something to taunt her with until the NEXT time

I did put her into a karada - a breast-harness-based one - but I didn’t do much more than put her in it - she was feeling too self-conscious and there wasn’t much scope for any fun with it.

She DID like the nipple clamps, tho… more than I even expected her to. I told her she would: Because they’re adjustable and can thus be set to her exact threshold instead of just “on or off”

There’s undoubtedly a lot more that I’ve forgotten to post. But that can wait. I just wanted to post an update because I haven’t posted in quite a while.

Maid service

I’m not entirely sure what the point of this post is. But it’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while and wanted to get written down.

It’s about the difference that approach can make.

Scenario 1: Sub arrives home, I complain that the place is dusty and order her to clean up. I watch the TV in one room as she works in another.

Scenario 2: Sub arrives home, eats the meal I cooked for her (I like cooking, never seems worth it while I’m living on my own tho), sits and cuddles for a while as supper goes down. Is then told to go into the bedroom and change into the outfit she finds there.

Once so dressed, she is told severely that the room is in need of dusting, and she is to do a very thorough job of it. I sit and watch her dust. If she misses a spot, or doesn’t do a thorough enough job, or I just feel like it, I call her over, tell her she’s not doing well enough, and spank her. (She likes being spanked.) Repeat until the place is tidy.

Either way, I’m going to wind up with the place dusted by my girl.

But in scenario 1, I’m going to have one unhappy sub: She’s going to feel unappreciated, taken for granted, and generally unloved. I’ll have some serious spadework to do if I want her to be enthusiastic about anything but sleep when we go to bed that night.

In scenario 2, I have a sub who’s secure in the knowledge that she was in my mind before she got home and the whole time she was doing her chore. She’s going to feel secure, happy, and after being watched wearing that outfit and spanked repeatedly, she’s going to be so turned on I probably wouldn’t be able to wait until bedtime.

Like I said, I’m not entirely sure what I’m trying to say here. I think it’s something about “How a Dom gives orders is far more important than the orders He gives” but I could be wrong.

I blew it

Quite spectacularly.

A little history before I go on. Last year, I ended a long-term ‘vanilla’ relationship that I had been in for some years, when I realized I was not in love with my partner. She didn’t want it to end. We’ve done our best to stay friends. I visited her at the weekend, and she was having one of those low points that come in many people’s lives. She may lose her job, she may have to move out of her flat, she’s barely earning enough to get by.. a lot of things have gone bad at once.

And it was impossible not to mention that none of it would be such a problem if we hadn’t split up. Bills would be split between two people, we were planning on moving this summer when we were still together so she’d had quit her current job anyway, etc. etc.

It was a hard thing to get through. How do you not feel bad when somebody you spent years of your life with is having real problems following your departure?

It bothered me. More, perhaps, than I realized. That Saturday night, I talked to my girl about it. I felt a lot better after - we got some things out in the open that had been eating at me recently. She asked if I wanted to cancel coming up to see her the next day. I said no, I wanted to see her.

Sunday, I made the three-hour drive to her home town. She still lives with her family so I stay in a hotel room and she joins me there. As usual, she was shy and quiet to start with, very affectionate when I kissed her, and relaxed slowly over a couple hours. We watched a DVD for a while and then went to bed. I rediscovered just how good she is in bed, and was surprised again at just how tight she is. It’s not hugely unusual for a woman to find it slightly painful to be penetrated, but I’ve never heard before of one who’s so tight it’s almost painful for the man to penetrate her.

It was fantastic to see her again. We were both very happy to be together. We had, for the first time, days to spend, so I didn’t push for any D/s things very hard at all - we had plenty of time for that later.

But the next day.. waking up together was fine. Morning sex was great. I even brought out the new flogger and tried it out. Gently. Then, because it was empty at the time, we went to her house for breakfast.

I’m not sure what it was, exactly, but things started to feel wrong at about that point. I was really uncomfortable being there. Or rather, being there, I was uncomfortable with being with her. I couldn’t work it out, I couldn’t get rid of it. I’ve had doubts about our relationship before - as you may have noticed in other posts - and those doubts suddenly seemed cripplingly big.

I tried to keep it at bay, but she’s very perceptive. She asked me what was wrong, and I had to admit it. I told her I didn’t think I could do this. Any of it. I just didn’t think I had that much strength.

It’s not easy to be in a D/s relationship. I don’t really know which is harder. The sub has to trust her Dom almost completely. The Dom has to be worthy of that trust.

It’s not easy to be in a long-distance relationship. Seeing each other for just hours in each month, having nothing but text and voice to get you through the rest of the time.. Your whole life spent aching to be together, or aching because in so little time, you’ll be parting.

It’s not easy to be in a relationship where there’s over a decade between ages. Very few of my friends even know I have a partner. None of them know any specifics. Most of her friends know at least a little, but they mostly don’t approve of the idea of me - an older man she met via the Internet.

We’d always known that the odds were against us. That didn’t make it any easier. We spent three hours saying goodbye. Both in tears, both barely able to believe we could be saying goodbye. And then, I left, for what would apparently be the last time.

We had so been looking forward to our first ever meeting that would be longer than a day. We hadn’t even had twenty-four hours, and I was leaving. For good.

With the driving to concentrate on, I kept my mind off the situation until I got home. Then I reached for the tissues again. As requested, I texted her to let her know I had arrived home safely. I also told her I was online if she wanted to talk to me - we had promised to at least stay in touch.

Thank God, she wanted to. Back on the means of communication that we’d met each other through. We’d IMed before the relationship started, now we were IMing after it.

We talked about it. We’d both been crying - both still were. We both had saved messages on our phones and photos on our PCs that we’d saved because they meant so much to us, that we didn’t know whether to keep or delete. And, we realized, we were both going to find life almost impossible to face without the other.

Slowly, tentatively, we edged around the issue. If it was so hard to be apart, did it really matter that it was hard to be together as well? Didn’t we still care deeply for each other? Did we still think that maybe it might still be salvageable?

We managed to make each other feel a lot better - we stopped each other crying, at least. We’re quite good at cheering each other up. We went to bed, both emotionally shattered.

I couldn’t sleep much past 6am, so I woke up and, as is my habit, sent her a text message. I’ve always sent her a text first thing - she loves to wake up to a message from me. I wasn’t completely sure she’d even respond. But she did, and we exchanged texts for hours.

And we realized, it isn’t over between us. It can’t be. However hard it is to be together, it can’t be as hard as being apart. For whatever reasons, I had felt unable to stay with her. She had been too selfless to ask me to stay a while, I had been to selfless to offer to. We had been so worried about the other’s feelings that we had ignored our own and just given in to the weakness.

It cost us our first multi-day visit. It cost us a lot of pain. But it hasn’t cost us each other. We want to be together far too much to part so easily.

So, nowhere near as much news as I was hoping to post. Flogger aside, I didn’t use any of the new toys on her. I didn’t make her submit to me in any but the mildest ways. I didn’t get to spend a decent length of time with her, even.

But I’ve still got her. She’s still my girl, I’m still her Dom. And that is more than enough for now.

Feelings

For various reasons, I had a long conversation with my girl about our feelings for each other. It’s something that’s been worrying me for a while. It turned out.. about as well as I could have hoped for, really.

It bothers me a little though, still. I’m curious.. is the general view that a D/s couple should be in love with each other, just like “vanilla” couples; or should it be different? Can you Dominate somebody properly if you love them? Can you Dominate them if you don’t?

Thank you

Just a quick note to all those who have posted on my sub’s blog to give her some reassurance. You’ve made her feel an awful lot happier, and I thank you for it.

Show-off

Last night, entirely unexpectedly, my lovely sub, who usually suffers from body issues that make her refuse to believe she might be actually attractive, did something very out of character.

She took some sexy photos of herself in various stages of undress and sent them to me teasingly. No prompting from me, no nothing. She actually flaunted herself on camera for me, under her own volition.

I was so proud of her I just wanted to give her a huge hug. But she’s hundreds of miles away, so she’ll have to wait till Sunday for that.

The photos are all lovely, but mostly private. But I wanted to share at least one with the rest of the world, so I chose this.

Isn’t she just so fantastically gorgeous? Look at that (kneeling) body…