Muscles ache too tired to type! part 1

Pant Pant Pant! Wait...let...me...catch...my...breath...
More than a weekend of play resulted in an explosion that our bodies are still trying to recover from. Fucked to Death? I believe that that can happen!

We delayed play till sunday. She was up to play, but not up to sex, so I decided to role play a bit and dominate her up to the point of actual sex all weekend long. I could have taken her at any point during the weekend, but decided not to. Let's say I gave her a reprieve, because she's known all week that slave was to dress up in one of her outfits that we bought and I would take pictures of her. She had to go all the way, stockings and garter(of course!) heels, and the corset. Most importantly makeup. I wanted my slave to look hot and slutty. I used to hate make up. I didn't want to kiss chemicals, I wanted flesh. But my tastes have changed a little. Slave looks good enough to not have to wear makeup, but I like her to get feminine for me. Makeup is an aspect of femininity that is neeed to complete the package. So a few weeks ago we spent an hour at the store as slave tried to figure out what type of makeup she needed for Master. She'd been out of touch with the makeup thing for a long time!

My plan for the "photo shoot" was going to take some time. I was not going to be rushed, so as the days passed by, I was content with teasing my little Knottygirl, giving her a playful spanking, and just keeping her interested but not satisfied till the right amount of time became available.

By sunday morning, slave couldn't take it anymore. She was so frustrated and turned on that she awoke early and rather than let me sleep in, she tempted fate and my wrath by making me my coffee and serving me in bed. With a bowed head an dbody she lovingly presented my coffee to me. The coffee was good as I invited her to sit on the bed next to me while I sipped it. She was very sub. And horny. My slave was acting the little frustrated slut. Eager for my touch, my kiss, but hungry for my cock.

I took her. It was a blurr. I reminded her of the one rule: Ask permission to cum. Upon reflection, I think I will stop reminding her. If she hasn't remembered this rule by now, then the next time she breaks it I'm going to whip her hide. See if she forgets to ask after that! (Slave take note!)
Just as we finished, the doorbell rang. The telephone repair man then spent the next 5 hours running a new line to the house, while slave, who still hadn't come down from the mornings fucking, stewed in her juices hoping that the repairman would finish soon so she could get at Masters wonderful cock underneath the tight jeans he was wearing, with no underwear. A quick illicite grab and passionate kiss each time Master came inside, kept her fires stoked.

Just as the repairman was on his last task, I looked sternly at slave and ordered her to pick something out of her toy chest and to be wearing it before he was done. I would then check and then take her. well she ate her pizza and managed to slide on a nice red thong on just as the repairman finished up. Actually I gave her a few moments more, knowing that she had decided to eat then put the item on. I was a bit disappointed by this, because the whoel intention of oredering her to get into something was so that she would have her mind on it and feel it while she eagerly awaited the repairman to finish. Getting it on just as I was closing the garagedoor and coming up the stairs cheated her out of the experience that I had intended for her. Semantics! She had done what I had ordered her to do, so after checking her thong, I ravaged slave again. Sha came even harder this time as she begged for release and I had her wait for a few moments more. Biting her lower lip she struggled to control the wave, then exploded when I allowed her to orgasm.

But that was only the beginning! MASTER HAD NOT CUM YET..................

Good Morning!

Yesterday morning I was awakened early by Knottygirl. She wanted to get moving early to get coffee before work. Grudgingly I opened my eyes and worked on trying to bring them into focus for the next 5 minutes. We hadn't played for a while (Hello! Like a month!!!!) and she was finally feeling up to some attention. It started out snuggling, honestly, but quickly evolved into playtime. Next thing I know, she's thrusting her ass back into me begging for permission to cum.

We didn't make it to coffee!

Driving home that evening we reflected on the play. The best way to describe my actions is "Angry Frustrated". There was a passion that definately came out of the frustration of not taking my slave for the last month. I wasn't mean, or angry, but that aspect of my personality fueled my passion. Always mindful of the amount of pleasure and pain I give her, I allowed that passion and energy to work for me in the way I held her, rubbed her, kissed her, smacked her ass while thrusting into her and taking her. She noticed too, and confirmed that she had enjoyed it. The wetness of her thighs afterwards, had proved that to me earlier but it's always good to check in.

We tried to continue where we left off from the morning, but schedules determined that that was not to be. However I have had a few ideas for this weekend and informed her of what I desired of my slave. "Yes Master!" was her excited reply.

What kinky fantasies?

Slave.
What kinky fantasies do you have?

You tell me, and I'll tell you another of mine!

She misses me

School started. I'm back in a classroom for the first time in 10 years. I looked at my calendar and realized I will be in that classroom til summer 2008. Can i really do this? Will everyone discover I don't deserver to be here? When will they find out I'm an idiot?
Well so far so good, no one has discovered me yet!
But there is a lot of work piling up already. I've already spent this week reading, then I didn't get to see Knottygirl at all yesterday. This morning she woke me up with toast and orange juice, served in bed. We cuddled, and she kept saying that she missed me.

I miss her too. We've been busy, bodies have been unwell, schedules chaotic, more work loads, we haven't had a chance to connect. I get the feeling that she wants to play this weekend. I think perhaps we'll do a fashion shoot. I want her all made up and posable. My little bendy girl. She needs to feel pretty. I want her to feel pretty.

I can at least promise to make her feel loved.

It's a wierd transition to play. Is a it a switch to flick on suddenly? A tease and slow build up? i know she likes the attention, the imagination. But I don't know if she loves the kink. I think she does, but does she need the kink? I don't think she does yet.

I can wallow in self pity, not many know about it, cause it's one of many conversations that stays between myself in my head. So I can complicate matters pretty quickly within myself. I'm trying not to here. I've been reading other blogs, there tends to be quite a lot from the subs perspective. I am getting some insight into their thought process. Seems that true subs crave, want, need the play. I hesitate. It certainly is thrilling to think of Knottygirl becoming like that. But it scares me too. Two places at once. I can't have both can I? Shit.

Yeah I'm a wishy-washy Dom. Fuck.
I miss her too.

Guests over

Last night we had some very good friends over for dinner and a movie. Slave came out of the bedroom with makeup on, first time in a few years. She looked good. She then proceeded to kiss me to try and get her lipstick all over my lips. Satisfied with the result, she went about getting dinner ready for our friends.

Discovering we were out of Brownie mix, she sent me off to the grocery store to pick up some last minute supplies. As I was leaving, I looked at her and said, "I want something before I go."
She smiled and started to raise her shirt.
I shook my head.
She turned around and went to lower her jeans to show me her markings.
No not that.
We went into the bedroom, where she then tried to take her clothes off.
No.
"With your makeup on and lipstick, I wanna see that mouth wrapped around my cock."
She smiled and dropped to her knees while I dropped my trousers.
Pornstar moment! We didn't have time to finish so I left to get the brownies with a set of blueballs.
The dinner went off well. At one point I brought out our little toy chest, paraded it in front of our friends, to the shock, horror and concern of my slave, only to place it on the floor to be used as a laptop stand.
She did call me master once while they were over. I told her to take her plate of chicken, with perhaps a bit of the Master voice. She immeadiatley switched into slave mode, and it rolled out. We're not sure if they noticed!

Sharpie's

Knottygirl mentioned going to the Arts and Crafts store to try and look for some stencils and some skin based markers to draw on her. Well we found nothing there, unless you count a butterfly pattern, which was pretty lame and out of tone with our play. We did double check that Sharpie's are non-toxic!

Today I showered her some pics I found of a little punk slave girl whose master had written all over her body. She had piercings and a leash as well. The writting was a bit crude with some "fuck" and "slut" all over her, which Knottygirl didn't seem to interested in, but as she was leaning over my desk checking out the pictures, she wiggled her ass in my face and asked Master if he would like to draw on slave's ass. I accepted!

I appologised to slave for not being a good master lately, work has been busy for both of us, so I sepnt the afternoon, paying attention to slave and her ass. She misses her spankings!

Spanked!

Kottygirl's roughest spanking yet!

Happy Valentine's Day!

Things have been busy, work wise for us. I do want to wish my special knottygirl a very Happy Valentine's Day. I'm at work thinking of her!

The way to wake up

This morning, right at 7:00am, I felt the presence of the misses. The night before, on the ride home, she really pushed my buttons. She kept messing with me, and I tried to stay calm and give her some warnings. HA! She just laughed and kept messing with me.
"Oh! So Scared!" she mocked.
Started calling me a pussy.
It was all fun, throughout our lives together we have messed with each other. This time, though I wasn't quite sure how to react. I realized that she was being playful, and I kinda didn't feel to dominant at that moment, so my threats of giving her a spanking rang hollow in my voice.
At a certain point, when she wouldn't stop I felt angry. Dangerous angry. Really, really pissed off. When that happens I get quiet.
She sensed my mood change and stopped messing with me, and asked me if i was ok. I really didn't answer. I wasn't ok, or at least let me say, I didn't know what I felt.
Women get frustrated with men because we don't tell them how we feel.
NEWSFLASH: A lot of times we don't know how the fuck we feel!
I had a mixture of emotions, mostly rage, but I had no real idea where that rage was coming from. I go silent, when I get angry, because I know that when I'm in a mood, I can say some pretty hurtful things. Strike that, I can be very fucking viscious, coldhearted, cruel and vindictive. Any weakness a person has shown over the ENTIRE time I have known them can and has been brought back into their faces when I strike out verbally.
The result: crushing, devestating, humiliating, and sometimes irrepairable.
So I stay quiet.
So why was I pissed?
Well I thought because she was ignoring me as her master and acting uppity and bratty. But truth be told, I didn't mind her play. Certainly it wasn't outrageous enough to warrant the anger I had.

We came home, it was quiet.
I went to change out of my work clothes she went to the bedroom and did the same.
Moments later she came to me dressed only in a black string thong.
So the anger subsided.
We went back to the bedroom , where she presented her ass for punishment.
This time I warmed her cheeks. Wehn done I had to take a picture of her reddened ass (first time!).

I told her afterwards that I had a mix of emotions, I didn't know how to react to her teasing in the car. We hugged, settled the issue.

7:00am this morning I opened my eyes to Knottygirl kneeling beside me on the floor.
"Good morning, Master!" she said and kissed me.
"What are you doing?" I asked, eyes barely able to focus.
"Serving Master! It's 7:00, and you ordered me to be kneeling next to you when you wake up!"
I kissed her again, my cock hardening. A conflict of logic. Last night she gave off a stuborn vibe, this morning, she's serving Master with a smile on her face and a warm wetness growing in her.

I told her to get up. She did and kissed me and then disappeared out of the room, leaving me to awaken and get my eyes in focus.
Next thing I know, slave brings into the bedroom to me and plate and cup. Toast cut up into tiny sailboats and a fresh class of Tangerine juice. She served me breakfast, and after handing me the plate, sank back down to the floor on her knees.

A bit in shock, I thanked slave. Then I asked her to join me in bed, where I proceeded to hand feed her between my own bits of the toast.
Each swallow was followed by a "Thank you Master!" from her.
The tv stayed off, the remote cold and lonely as we ate in the morning solitude.

The entire time my cock was pitching a tent under the blanket.
After we ate, she cleared the dishes at my request and I then told her to hurry up get ready for work so that I could buy her a cup of coffee without us being late. Before she got dressed I had to have a little attention paid to my cock, he was hard as steel and would not allow me to get my pants on until he had some loving attention of his own.
She kissed him, then sensing that I was looking for more than a kiss, changed positions and offered her warm pussy to me. I clambored on top of her and slowly worked my monster into her.
My bladder was full and it was too long before the pressure of the thrusting was too much to handle. I pulled out and on a spur of the moment decided to reward my little slave for her behavior this morning.
Dropping down to her crotch I gently flicked my tongue over her lips and found her clit. Her body tensed in a good way, she generally doesn't like clit stimulation, again too sensitive like her nipples, but I was determined to be gentle on her and get her blood pumping this morning.
Grabbing on hand and using my other to slip under her and tightly clench her ass cheek, I worked away on her. Between juicy breaths I reminded slave of the rule; she needed to ask for permission to cum.
"What's the rule?" I asked.
"I have to..."
"What is it?"
She moaned again. "I have to..."
She was lost, she knew what the rule was but couldn't wrap her mind around verbalizing it. I went easy on her and didn't force her to tell me.
"You have to ask permission!" I finished.
"Yes..." was all she managed to get out.
Soon she moaned out, "Oh Master...can I cum????"
Her body was sprung tight, all her muscles clentched.
"Cum for me slave!" I ordered, as I continued to work her clit.
She exploded.
I crawled back ontop of her, inserted my still hard cock in her, and held her as she came down. "That's a good reward for serving me this morning! Might make you want to do that more often!"
She smiled.
We looked at the clock and realized, that not only were we going to be late, but that I wasn't going to be buying her a coffee this morning!

Updates

We've settled into a rythm of late. Being busy with some socializing, had someone over for the evening last night, as well as work and sickness, we haven't played much. Kottygirls ass is still a prime target for me, and this morning she gave back to me in the form of a few swats from her hand. I decided to let her get away with it, she was more playful than bratty, seeing that the evening before, she tried to spank me and wound up stinging her hand instead, then she had to endure a spanking of her own. Her ass and hand stung afterwards so I think she is a bit hesitant to try that again!

We axiously awaiting some orders to arrive by post. Nothing new has come. We have both become more comfortable in our Master/slave roles. I'm happy to report that I have not once ordered her to wash the dishes! She has been cooking more often, I think subliminally she is trying to take care of her Master a bit more. The attention is greatly appreciated. we had a talk about the little things. I read to her some stories of other couples that share a small little act between them as a symbolic gesture of their play and relationship. One wife has her husband hold her wrist instead of her hand when they go out together. Most people don't notice, but to them it signifies his control over her. Another wife with children sits or kneels beside her husband who is on the couch when they're in the living room. The children are still young so they all gravitate to the floor and do activites that way. We tired the wrist thing, and I missed the intimacy of her hand, our fingers playing with each other and the gentle reminding squeezes we use to comunicate that we're thinking of each other. She agreed and found that the postion was awkward and painful.

Knottygirl did mention that she inquired about belly and nipple piercings from a friend. I'm not sure how serious she is about it, but just thinking about it got me hard. During our last discussion about this, she had quickly followed it up with the cld reality that while thinking about it is sexy and erotic and a turn on, for both of us, actually following through and doing it might not be. In otherwords, think about it, I'll tease you about it, but when it comes down to it, I'm not doing it! Quite frankly, I happy with us even having a conversation like this at this stage. I'm not pushing anything, in fact the nipple rings were her idea. Where ever she wants to take this, I'll support her decisions.

So with another wasted weekend looming ahead, I have to work, and the frustration of slave being sick last weekend, I've been taking care of myself again. Pisses me off. I've been so turned on by her lately that not having her has backed me up a bit too much. But I have to control myself so that we can enjoy Valentine's Day. No plans other than some intimacy. I hate Valentine's Day. A manufactured holiday for stores and restaurants to get some sales.

Blown wad

A new month a new paycheck. We went outfit shopping for Knottygirl.
February has Valentine's Day and here were many sales going on. How Convienent! Kottygirl was on a mission, she had already been behind on her task to get something scandalous for wear under her normal clothes so now that she had the opportunity, she became quite picky in try to find something that she felt comfortable with but that I would find pleasing and sexy. She managed to zero in on some nice lacy thongs. They were sexy and on sale(bonus!) so she purchased a number of those. I eyed a nice red and black corset outfit, and slave went about piecing together the out fit with all the accessories that would fit her size. We wound up going to three stores to get everything, but afterwards we were both satisfied with the booty we had plundered!

We both are getting excited by taking pictures of her. She's becoming my little model, and if it weren't for the fact that the poor doggy was home waiting to be let out, we would have shopped for some make up for her.

I'm not to big into makeup, my slave looks fine wthout it, but every once in a while it would be nice if she got done up, whore it up a bit, girly it up a bit. I would love to she her slick glossed lips wrapped around my cock, with darkened eyes. Plus we need the makeup for the photo session.
But alas, no make up shopping for her that evening. I told her to think about what she would need, colorwise as well as type, so that she could pick everything up at a later date without spending an hour, going, "What do you think?"

We got home and she promptly tried on the outfits. HOT!
Even though she never wore thongs before, she admitted after trying them on that they seemed ok to her. I got terribly turned on seeing her from behind, her jeans dropped a few inches revealing her red lacey thong and her SPANKABLE ass cheecks! Less material, less protection from my hand!

Unfortunatley, she's been under the weather so she was not up to any play this weekend, leaving her Master hard and frustrated. We had a busy weekend going out with friends, and each time we went out, she put on a lacey thong without any prompting by me. She has learned well! She then told me that they felt good, so I'm looking forward to her wearing them on a more regular basis. She agreed with the caveat that we would have to purchase more of them if that was what I wanted, somehow I think she just manipulated me into agreeing to do more clothes shopping for her...

At Work

She wore a skirt to work, and her slinky midnight blue lycra shirt. The one that hugs her body and shapes her curves and feels oh so smooth when grabbing her. All day long we chatted. She was a bit disappointed that the "k" to her brand was rubbing off with wear from her little shorts unde her skirt. The rest was open. I got a lot of I w..t you!'s from her.

At 3:30 I messaged to her to go check her mark. Check it NOW! Two mintes later she typed back that it was still intact.
"Where did you check it?"
"Bathroom."
"Were you alone?"
"1 person bathroom."
"Did you pull your skirt up? Or did you pull it down, Knottygirl?"
"Up."
"Such a Knottygirl!"
"I w... you!"
"Tough luck! You have to wait till 5!"
":-("
I picked her up a little early. Driving through the park I swerved the car to the side, threw it in park, turned to her. She glanced around a little unsure as to why we were stopped.
"Show me your Brand slave!"
She smiled. "Yes Master." She pulled her skirt up and showed me the Sharpie drawing of "Knottygirl" that we had fun putting on her last night.
I rubbed it. "Shame that the "K" is rubbing off."
I pulled back out on the street, keeping my hand on her thigh, stroking it.

I asked her about the fake nipple rings that we had played with the night before.
"They're kinda blah." She said.
"I was thinking maybe getting real piercings." she added.
"You mean nipple rings?"
"Well," she backtracked. "I'm not talking body altering just yet..."
I think I knew where she was going with this.
"You mean, you like the idea of having nipple rings as a Fantasy...not just a reality."
"Yeah," she said.
"What do you like about them?"
"They kinda turn me one."
"Oh?" I pressed for more details.
"I think they're sexy."
"What type do you fantasize about? A bar? A hoop?"
"No," she said. "I like the hoops with like a little bell on them."
"A bell?"
"Yeah, the ones last night that had the ball bearing sliding on the hoop were real sexy."
Yeah they were.
"But if I were to wear a one-piece speedo, would they show through?"
"Probably," I said.
I quickly added. "I think you can take them out. How often are you going to go swimming at the gym? Rarely if ever."
"True," she said.
"Besides, it's not like piercings are so outrageous anymore, all the girls have belly piercings, and even that straight laced doctor on 1st season of Survivor had a nipple piercing."
She agreed.
"They're more normal nowadays."
She let that stew in her head for a bit. Something I might look forward to in the future. I did reiterate my standing offer, and I really am not pressing her one way or another for the piercings, this is her idea fully, that if she wanted I would get a nipple pierced as well.
But damn it doesn't make me hard just typing this again!

We got home and I ordered her into the bedroom and to strip and show me her Brand. Licking her pussy I inspected her "Knottygirl". It still looked good. I qucikly worked my kisses up to her and started stroking my cock over her pussy lips.
"You wanna tie me up?" she asked.
I tied her wrists together over her head and took her. We didn't finish, but enjoyed ourselves. We threw on some clothes and proceeded to shop online for some new goodies. She still has to get something scandalous for herself to wear under her regular clothes!

Sharpie!!!!!

After bringing the dog in after work tonight, I came into my office to be confronted with a giggling Knottygirl. "Master has to search for it!" she said.
She had read my task that I had posted a few posts below. She had wasted no time.
I had instructed her to write her name with a permanent ink sharpie marker somewhere on her body. Since it was permanent, she would have to decide where.
I checked her back. Not there. I kissed her neck. She shivered.
I checked her chest, making extra sure that I wasn't missing anything around her breasts. She might have used invisible ink, so I linked her nipples to try and discover her inkwork. Not there!
"Turn around!" I growled. "And bend over!"
I pulled her pants down, slowly inching over her curved cheeks. Left cheek? Nothing. Right cheek? Nothing. SMACK! I gave her a playful swat. She moaned.
I yanked the pants back up.
"Face me slave!" I said.
I then inched her pants down. Her crotch? Nothing.....
I won't tell you where I did find it. The picture is all you need!!!!!!
My cock was hard, as I kissed her strongly. My god I love her! She was excited and so was I. I pulled it out and she hungrily devoured it. After a few minutes, I asked, "Do you want me to fill the name in?"
She nodded. We scampered back to the bedroom where she laid out on the bed as I added the finishing touches on "Knottygirl" while occasionally giving her clit a tender lick. Admiring our handiwork, she took me in her mouth again. Then she gave me an evil smile. "I want to mark you!"
I rolled over and she pulled out our collection of sharpies, and proceeded to lay between my legs and write on my waist: "Knottygirl's Master".
The way she was situated, her face was above my crotch, my legs were on either side of her as she colored in her inkwork. My hard cock stayed erect, brushing up against her mouth. She pretended to pay no attention to my throbbing member, only on her artwork. She breathed on in, brushed her lips against it, and each time my cock started to waver, to shrink down, she would, without taking her eyes off her handiwork, take my cock into her mouth, give me a quick teasing couple of sucks, which would bring my poor cock back up to attention against her soft warm lips and her smooth cheek.
She finally finished her inkwork, and I looked up to view it. She had added a heart to it as well. Taking the appropriate moment of refection, admiration, contemplation, and thought, I then quickly flipped her onto her back felt her pussy, which was moist and ready, and then climbed onto her and took her.
As we neared completion, I started talking about the mark.
"You like what I told you to do?"
"Yes Master!"
"It's permanent ink you know."
"Yes Master!"
"You'll have to be careful so no one can see it!"
"Oh yes Master!"
I thrust deeply into her.
"Maybe I'll make you were a short skirt to work. Then someone might see it!"
She moaned, her breath quickened.
"Then you would have to explain what Knottygirl is!"
"Oh yes Master!"
"You like that slave! You like that I marked you?"
"Oh yes!!! I like your brand Master!"
We collapsed. Spent.
We then took pictures!

Names

I can't tell you when I became excited by bondage, only that I have relayed to slave that bondage is everywhere. As a child pretty much every comic book and adventure story, tv show, movie has bondage in it. "Little Archie" and "Ritchie Rich", "Tintin" and "Asterix", they all had boys and girls tied up. Kids are bombarded with the images of tied up struggling boys and girls from an early age.

We're lying in bed and an old "Family Guy" cartoon is playing on the Cartoon Network. Baby Stewey is obsessed with the cheerleaders and at the end overpowers and ties up the head cheerleader and leaves her in the mens room for kinky Quagmire to discover. She giggled at the visual of the bound blond cheerleader and reminded me of what I had said. Yup, it's everywhere, guess I'm not such a freak after all, though I probably am!!!!

As I lay in bed tossing and turning trying to get to sleep, I started thinking. The misses has a few names now, slave, naughty girl, dirty girl, and now knottygirl. We both like "Knottygirl". It's a nice play on words, implies some deviousness.

So to slave, my Knottygirl I give you a task:
I want you to take a Sharpie pen, any color, multiple colors, and I want you to write your new name somewhere on your body, you choose where (but the naughtier locations are always better!) and when you are done, I want you to show me. I will not prompt you with this task. It's up to you do it on your own and show me. The sharpi ink will not wash off right away, so bear in mind you will have "Knottygirl" on your skin for a few days, so if it's in a spot that's visible, you might have some explaining to do to others who might so happen to see and read it.

I await your presentation of your new name!

~Master~

PS: I can't wait to see where your write it!!!!

Catch our breath

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Photoshopped!

Slave's abstract art!

Now What????

We had some miscues. I felt frustrated. Now overly sensitive, I was hesitant with her. The Master was gone. The geek in his place. We had a miserable failure with a bondage session. I tried to get a little advanced, and although we started off excited. My cock quickly shriveled with frustration. I lost my MOJO. Was afraid I would never get it back.

Finally we had a good frank talk. I have about 10 dialogues happening in my head at any given time. It's hard for me to share my feelings, because it's a bit overwhelming to do that. Half the time I don't know what I'm feeling and the rest of the time, I'm busy trying to make sense of it all. I must admit I have never had my IQ tested. I'm confident that I'm average, maybe a little higher, but who the fuck knows, I could be genius, that's my confident side speaking, or a fucking retard, that's my self doubt speaking. I do have about 8 more things speaking to me right now as I write this.

So finally we spoke. I told her my fears of hurting her, of ruining this dynamic again, of having lost this and never being able to revisit it again. We worked things out. I felt better. She felt better. We resolved the night of the safeword.

We moved back in to Master and slave. Then a few evenings later, while nibbling on her ear and back of her neck, I told her that that first evening when I had her in bondage was so damn hot that I wished that I could have taken a picture of her with the purple rope in the tortoise shell pattern on her white skin so that I could always remember it. Jerk off to it. Make it my desktop picture. Replace my collection of porn pictures that I jerk off to.

She giggled. She smoldered. She simmered. She boiled. Smoking hot. Later that evening she confessed to me that the thought of pictures of her in bondage was so hot, sexy and exciting that her lips were moist, not moist, her pants were soaked!

Technology. Digital cameras, computer, no need to leave home, no need for a developer to see the intimate shots. No embarressing moments picting up the photos from the developer. We got the camera out and rope and took some pictures. We played on photoshop for the rest of the evening, tweaking them, or what she has now fondly refered to as "Photoshopping Me!".
Sex, a natural extension after the build up was as spicy as it now has regularly become.

Safeword

The following day we did some normal errands. We went grocery shopping, picked up some stuff, rented videos, etc. The entire time, the misses constantly called me Master. My ego felt good, my dick hard and my imagination pumped into overtime.

"What do you think of this, Master?"
"Sir, I would like to get some ice cream."
"Please Master?"
"Yes Master!"
We spent the afternoon getting things cleaned up and generally lazed about. By evening she was on my lap spoon feeding her Master some ice cream. I could finally take no more of this slaves teasing and promptly grabbed her and dragged her willingly to the bedroom. Tossing her on the bed, I pulled her pants off and started rubbing her cheeks.
A few smacks later, she and I were good and warmed up. She had settled into the bed, laying on her stomach ready for some more attention. I had other ideas. remembering how she had reacted to the vibrator on her clit, I commanded her to get her vibrator form the box and bring it back to me on the bed.
She groaned. "You get it." She said.
I gave her another light smack on her ass. "Slave!" I growled. "I asked you to get it."
She dug in. "You get it."
I thought this was her testing my authority. In hindsite, I think she was just satisfied with my attention and was comfortable and didn't want to stop the session, get up and get the vibrator and then try to start again. For me, she had disobeyed a direct order. I told her so. Her attitude changed. I didn't notice it. She now had gotten stubborn.

We both have a standing arguement that the other person is the most stubborn person we have ever met. She thinks I am, but I know she's wrong, because no matter how stubborn I am, she's ten times worse.

"Well, I'll have to punish my slave, if you refuse to get the vibrator."
I wacked her a little harder.
"Ohhhh, so scared!" She taunted.
I picked up the pace and started to use a little more force.
I paused after the fourth blow to her ass.
"Is that all you got?" She again taunted me.
"I used more forced. My hand cracked with the sharp blows to her cheeks.
Two more blows, and she was quiet.
"That hurt." She said. There was no amusement in her voice.
She curled up and away from me.
The signals were all wrong, the body language was all wrong. I new right away what a mistake I had made. I hadn't read the signals.
Worst of all was that I had hurt her. After our very first bondage session, where I did the tortoise shell on her, in the afterglow of that scene, she had confided in me that she had went along with ALL of this, was that she trusted me. TRUST. I wouldn't harm her. I wouldn't cause harm to her. She would always be safe with me. I had just thrown all of that trust out of the window. Flushed it down the crapper. I had failed her. I had failed myself.
The salesman in me tried to speak and make things right. Gibberish spewing out of an idiot.
All day long we had performed our roles. She the slave, me the Master. She had called me that all day long. But was "Master" just a pet name to her? Like "Lovey", "Boo-Boo", "Sexy thing"?
Master is not a pet name. My dick does not get hard when she calls me "Boo-Boo". My dick gets hard because the word Master is a statement. I call her slave as a term of endearment, but it is used to underlie the fact that that is what she is at that moment. I have identified her as slave in my mind and that is how I'm treating her and how I expect her to act. It is a verbal que for how to act and play. That is what I expected of her when she called me Master. Call me my name, and I know we aren't playing. Call me Master, then don't expect me to let her dictate what to do.

Mixed signals, miscommunication. Hey we're learning here! I managed to calm her down, and I realized that this was when a safeword would have come in handy. We discussed this, and both agreed that she should choose a safeword so that when our signals are crossed we can end the scene immeadiately, without hurt feelings, without explanation.

Onions.

That's what she chose, that what I will honor. This seemed to content her. It was a long day, and she curled up and faded to sleep. I went to my study. I wish I could have been content as well. But I wasn't. I blamed myself. A heap of emotions flooded me. Worst of all was the feeling of failure. After that was the feeling that with that last scene, I had killed a new relationship between us before it had a chance to really start.

The following week, nothing. I was tentative, she was distant. She didn't say the word Master. I didn't call her slave.

Teased!

She had enjoyed it. She had gotten lost in it. There was a hunger in her eyes now and I returned her stares with my own consuming hunger. The whole package had happened that night, and we both had enjoyed every aspect of it. Master? Enjoyed. Slave? Enjoyed. Spanking? Enjoyed. Bondage? ENJOYED! Asking permission to cum? Priceless! Enjoyed!

Afterwards I had slowly unwound the rope weave from her slick wet body. I allowed her to come down from the high that we had just experienced. To share an extra moment. The rope forced us to take a breather, check in and make sure each of us was alright. I wouldn't be a very good Master if I didn't care about my slave.

Next time she would not get off so easily. Next time the mere asking to cum would not be enough. Slave would have to hold on till Master ALLOWS her to fall over the edge of pleasure.

The next evening found us in bed with slave on her hands and knees, ass up in the air as I gently smoother her soft creamy skin with my palm. Bending her back, the skin tightened around her cheeks and involuntarily spread them apart, revealing her sensitive areas. A sharp smack brought her back to focus. She moaned and pushed herself back into the hand that was caressing where it had just hit. A small discoloration of redness became visible and my cokc hardened at the sight. I quickly traced around her lips, checking to see if they were wet, then surprised her with a blow to her other cheek.

After I had warmed both of her cheeks to a nice red glow, I commanded slave to turn over on the bed and prepare herself for some pleasure. I was rock hard, but tonight I wanted to introduce a new aspect to our play. The tease.

Pulling out the large vibrator, I turned it on and started to rub her with it. Licking and lightly biting her sensitive large nipples, I maneuvered the vibrator all over her body, underarms included! Her breathing grew ragged when I finally rested the instrument on her pussy. I looked deeply into her eyes. She tried to return the gaze but instead stared through me, beyond me, lost in her growing, tingling pleasure.

"Play with your breasts, slave!" I growled. Instantly her hands rested on her two round mounds and she started to playfully massage them. Her breathing was quicker. I pulled the vibrator off her. My cock and I couldn't take it anymore. I had to take my slave. "You are so fucking hot!" I said. I worked myself into her sopping wet pussy. She continued to squeeze and fondle her breasts. "You are too sexy, my naughty girl!" I growled as I found a rythm that we could both escalate to. She moaned and took in a breath. Somehow she had regained her focus on me, her master. Her eyes had locked into my own. "Remember," I growled. "You must ask me for permission to cum." I gave her a serious look. She nodded hungrily. The action that she must do to give herself final please gave her an added thrill as she thought about it. She started to get close. I reminded her again. I wasn't sure that she would remember at this point of her buildup.

My pace quickend. I thrusted harder with growing excitement. I wanted to add to the already potent combination of feelings that she was having. "Pinch your nipples, slave!" I barked. Her poor nipples are too sensitive as it is. I wanted to add a little pain to her pleasure, to flood her sensations when reaching the edge. "Yes..." she breathed, then "...Master...".
She was close.
She breathed again as I thrust in. "Master," she muttered. "Can I cum?"
Her eyes tried to stay focused on mine. Now to see what type of Master I was. Coldly I growled, "No slave. Hold out."
A flash from deep inside her, only noticeable by staring into her eyes, into her soul, reflected a conflict of pleasure and frustration and surprise. She hadn't expected this. She clenched down and moaned, frustrated and surprised that I commanded her to keep control. A few more thrusts, I growled at her to continue pinching her nipples. Her breath was ragged now.
"Master, can.."
"...I..."
"...cum?"
Again I shook my head while continuing my rythm. "No slave." I added a threatening, "Don't you dare! Wait till I give you permission."
She was beside herself now. Teased to the point of loosing her mind. I was determined to make my slave experience the joys and frustrations of being on the edge but being denied.
She dug into her nipples in hopes the pain would ease the pleasure that was overwhelming her. It only added to the pleasure.
Again, this time barely intelligible. "...Master...please!...Can...I...come?"
"Yes slave!" I growled. I pushed deep into her. "Cum for me. Exploded!"
Her head rolled back.
Her fingers pinched her nipples even harder.
Her back tightened.
She lost herself. She rode the waves of pleasure, pain and frustration to bliss and satisfaction. Teased, edged, denied.
I exploded shortly after. Satisfied with her, my wife, my love, my equal, my slave.

ROPE!

Walking into Stormy Leather, we are immediately greeted by one of the shop girls, "Welcome to Stormy Leather, how can I torture, I mean help you?" She grinned. Trying to be bold, I put my business face on. "I need rope." I said. She looked at me and then to the misses, who though it was her idea to come here, was now quiet and feeling a bit overwhelmed with the frankness of this setting. Good Vibes, called by some as the "Martha Steward of sex stores" was completely different to the dark South of Market industrial setting of Stormy Leather. Just the smell f pungent fresh leather bombards you when you enter. The store workers, with multiple piercings and multi-hued hair were fun but straight to the point. No one who came here was just shopping for a "gag-gift" to embarrass some soon-to-be bride at a bridal shower. Shopping here meant to us that everyone in this store knew we were interested in kink. The darker side of kink, or the more imaginative side of kink!

The shop girl led us back to a rack with the bondage implements and proceeded to show us their selection of "bondage rope". I relayed the story that our rope hadn't arrived yet and we were just too anxious to play that we couldn't wait anymore for the silk rope to arrive. "Mmmmmmm silk rope..." the shop girl said. “How decadent!”

The shop girl lingered around for a few moments as we checked out the various products. I made it a point to engage in both the misses as well as the shop girl to ask questions and get opinions from both of them. I was hoping to settle my little slave down a bit. To try to get her to relax so that she could enjoy the shopping experience, rather than focus on getting the rope and getting the hell out of there.

After the shop girl left to give us some breathing room, we settled down and explored the entire shop. It had been years since we had shopped here, and they had expanded. The entire time I carried around the purple, we had chosen purple because the silk rope we ordered was also purple, bondage rope for all the other shoppers in the store to see.

Stormy is cool, but the outfits are pricey! High quality but not worth the investment until we really commit to this type of play. But the misses did show interest in the outfits. Earlier I had mentioned that one scene I want to play out with her is to command her, when we are going out somewhere, an event, a party, a dinner, to wear something scandalously sexy underneath her outfit. A leather thong, silk crotch less panties, or something to that effect. Something only she and I would know she had on, no one else would know. Then I would whisper to her all night long, asking her how her little kinky garment felt underneath her "regular" clothes. At the end of the night when we get home, I would strip off her regular clothes and then take her lovely kinky body.

I alluded to that fantasy and asked her to look around for something appropriate. She didn't find anything, but hopefully another time she will. We paid for the rope and left with the shiny all black plastic bag secured in my hand.

That night, after scanning Midori's bondage book I chose the tortoise shell bondage as my first attempt to introduce my slave into real rope bondage. I chose it because it covered her body in a diamond shaped pattern, but it didn't restrict her. Her arms and legs were free so it was more an ornamental tie. I did however tie her wrists to the sides of her hips to finish off the bondage. She had some movement in her arms, but enough to know that she was not in control.

The rope criss crossing her body, in between and around her breasts, through her crotch and across her back was lovely. The purple jumped out from the background of her white skin. She was in no discomfort. It was more a costume than bondage, but the effect to me and my cock was immediate. I eased her onto the bed and started to kiss and nibble on her. I worked my way down a then paid special attention to her. She was soon panting. Her hands were grabbing at my hair, urging me to continue. Soon she was on edge. I pulled my head up. I had to have her. I had to take my slave. I freed her hands but kept the rest tied. I mounted her and the pattern o f the rope rubbed against my chest and stomach. Quickly I churned within her soaking box. "Play with your tits, slave!" I ordered. She grabbed them and started mashing them in her hands. Time to introduce some more control over my slave. "Don't you dare come without asking me, slave." I growled. She quickly focused on me, as I plunged deeper into her. Her eyes hungry. "Understand?" I asked. She swallowed, composed herself and then stuttered, "Yes Master."
"What was that?" I said louder.
"Yes Master!" she said firmly.
We were close.
"Are you going to come yet, slave?"
"Not yet Master."
She got closer, her breathing ragged.
"Remember slave, you MUST ask permission to come!"
"Uh huh!" She nodded.
Squeezing her breasts as I pumped in and out of her, a few moments later her breathing changed pitch.
"Oh! Master! Can I come!?"
Baby steps.
The first bondage we did a few nights before, I had decided to allow her to come naturally, even though I wanted to tease her, to make her beg to come, to bring her to the edge over and over till she was made with lust. That time I wanted to reward her with allowing my to strap her hands down.
This time I wanted to introduce her having to ask her Master to come just before she does. Do I deny her?
No.
"Come for me, slave!" I cry out. We both exploded into each other.