Sir doesn’t want to break his wife

In Public vs Private Play Energy, I discussed an incident at a play party where Zeus played for hours with another woman. In that post, I focused more on the way play energy varies when he has a reactive crowd to feed off of versus at home when it’s just the two of us. I started this post right after the same discussion, a few weeks ago now, but hadn’t gotten around to finishing it until now.

For background in case you haven’t read the other post and can’t be bothered right now: While I was traveling, Zeus went to a Kinky camping event. He met a woman there with whom there was instant chemistry. He shared this experience with me later, but didn’t go into a lot of detail since it wasn’t relevant. We mostly talked about their ongoing D/s relationship that followed the party, and worked out the poly-ness of that1. I later heard from a friend of mine that they’d played for “hours” during that weekend. Zeus hadn’t mentioned that part, although he had described it as intense. I have to admit to some envy when I found out about that, since when Zeus and I first started playing more kinkily (as if spell check didn’t flag “kinkily”), our play sessions lasted well under an hour. I was quite well and “satisfied” pretty much every time, I wasn’t “spent.” I could well have gone on.

In an effort to be communicative, I brought this up with Zeus and asked how it was that he’d been able to play for hours with another woman, but needed to stop after 20 minutes with his wife? I touched on this incident a little bit inbut that time I focused more on his energy levels during play.

His reasoning made perfect sense, and only reinforces my confidence in him as a Dominant. It can be summarised as: “Patience, Grasshopper2.” In a nutshell, he didn’t want to break his wife.

He basically said that it’s one thing to play with some new toy at a public event, where she’s showing up independently and largely responsible for her own self. She’s consenting to play with a stranger, whom yes has been vetted by respected members of the (so-called-)community, but it’s still her responsibility to communicate whatever she needs to in order to be safe. Their play just happened to be really intense and last a long time. He did aftercare, spent time with her throughout the weekend, and provided contact information for afterwards in case she crashed and needed support. But ultimately, if something “broke” inside her as a result of the play that she consented to and that stayed within her stated limits, then it’s ultimately her responsibility to work through that. He could (and would) help her as much as he’s emotionally and psychologically able, but within reasonable boundaries of his life: work, marriage, etc. He wouldn’t be expected to drop everything in the middle of a busy work day and come to her rescue if she started having a real freak-out — that’s why she’s supposed to have her own friends and support network in place before playing like that with strangers!

Luckily nothing like that happened, and they actually developed an ongoing D/s relationship for a few weeks. It was a really good experience for everyone I think, although I have some regrets for how it ended (again, that’s another story). Part of me wonders if the universe’s purpose for that was actually to bring D/s into our marriage, but then I have a tendency to project that thinking on all kinds of things. Sometimes a butterfly just flaps its wings…

But I’m not a toy at some random kinky party. I’m the wife who, for the last 11 years, has whined about every spanking being too hard, who swore she hates giving blowjobs3, and who has never shown the least outwardly submissive behaviour. All of a sudden, I’m asking him to beat me, fuck my brains out, treat me like a sex object, and begging him to boss me around. He’s completely stunned. First he was worried that I was just trying to compete with this other woman4, and that’s where this was coming from. Then he saw the skip in my step when I’d follow the commands he’d experiment with, or the vibrancy of my eyes — the ones that turn grey when I’m sad and bright blue when I’m happy, and were bluer than he’d seen in years when we’d talk about spankings, submission, and eventually blowjobs (which I’m still obsessed with, thank you for asking. Yesterdays’s was especially delicious, and deserves a distraction with its own post). So that convinced him that my desire for submission was genuine, and wasn’t some desperate act to avoid dealing with poly feelings or something. And the more we played and experimented, the more he saw me liking it.

That explains the hesitancy, so then we move on to the duration and intensity of scenes. And basically, that comes down to baby steps and being careful that everything is absorbed properly before taking it up a notch.

Sigh. Dominants and their patience, am I right? Yeah, yeah, I know. *looks down and digs her toe in the floor, hands clasped behind her back, that look that every girl has when she knows you’re right and hates that she has to admit it*

As much as I want more more more, there is the factor that this leaves us plenty of places to “go.” I mean, if we started off with a four-hour scene right off the bat, that sets the bar pretty frickin high for subsequent sessions. So what consoling myself with is the knowledge that we’ll get there eventually, and that when we do, they’ll be so much more spectacular for the fact that we know what to avoid and what we like and how to cope with weird things, and all that good stuff. And it’s not like I’m not loving what we’re doing right now. Hmm, maybe I could start creating ever-more elaborate fantasies and write them down for the horny eyes of the internet, and give Sir some great material to draw from… ideas ideas.

1 I’ll go into more detail about that another time

2 omg I sooo want that to be my new pet name…

3 ha! if you filmed me 2 hours ago and showed it to 10 years ago me, I’d probably wonder where you got the body double).

4 That’s a pretty reasonable fear, and I’m actually surprised, to be honest, that I didn’t actually feel competitive with her. I mean, that would have been stupid. First of all, she’s a lovely woman who I could tell didn’t intend to steal my husband away. Second, my husband loves me to pieces and wouldn’t leave me, especially when we’re poly and if it came to it, he probably could have talked me into letting him keep her. I mean c’mon, you should see what this woman does with stovetops and toilets. My god, I’ve never seen them sparkle like that. And Sir? You probably never will again. Just sayin’. Yeah, it’s also possible that’s partially because I somewhat unofficially adopted her as my own submissive. Her fetlife profile had expressed an interest to serve a couple, and she was a pure service submissive. Given the choice between cleaning someone’s house or getting delicious spankings, she’d choose the former — of course, her preference is to clean someone’s house as a reward in itself, and then get delicious spankings as a bonus thank you! And that’s basically the arrangement they had worked out. So with Sir’s permission, I started leaving her little tasks of my own. She sent him a text once about how hot she thought it was to be given tasks by a woman 10 years younger than her! It was quite a trip anyway.

Delicious cock sweat

I was lucky enough to give the most delicious blowjob ever today.

Our outdoor plans this morning were thwarted by the rain, which gave us the opportunity to devote the whole morning to the talk we’d been planning for this weekend. One of the things Sir asked me about was what I wanted and needed both as a submissive and just for sexual fulfillment in general. I explained that one of the things I still really fantasize about is aggressive, throat-fucking blowjobs; but that I was worried that he just wasn’t that into blowjobs, and it sorta defeats the whole point if he’s just doing it for me. So he called me over and showed me his rock hard cock — asked if that looked like he wasn’t into it, and told me to start sucking. (Oh well, so much for talking).

Oh my god people, it was so beautiful. We were both hesitant at first. For my part, after all, the whole fantasy is to be forced into it (or rather, it be forced into me!) But ever the patient and caring Dom, he’s not going to do that until he’s sure I’ll really enjoy it, that the reality is going to live up to the fantasy (unlike the face slapping experiment!! I’d once felt an urge for something above the neck during another play session once and asked him to try slapping my face, but I didn’t enjoy it at all. Turned out I’d just needed a good biting.) So he put his hand on my head and gently but firmly pushed my head down a couple times, testing the waters. My gag reflex was being troublesome, since I was on my knees and bent over him sitting on the couch, which is probably the worst throat angle. But I worked through it (besides, the gagging is honestly half the fun sometimes) and was able to go all the way down repeatedly without throwing up (since that’s not our kink).

I’d also talked about anal play, so after letting me deep throat for a couple minutes, he instructed me to stand up, turn around, and sit on his cock. Oooo goodie, another position I’ve only fantasised about!

Now okay, what happened next is funny people, because at the time and for the past few hours, I totally forgot that I had my Diva Cup (menstrual cup) in. Neither one of us even realised it! I was bouncing around on there, probably shoving that thing right up my cunt. I didn’t feel anything out of the ordinary, other than the fact that I don’t think we’ve done that position before so in a way it was all different. Real thigh buster, that one! You’d expect it to be poking out at him, but when I asked him after I realised later, he said he didn’t even notice (not that he had anything to distract him or anything, like a nice pink bum to spank and a bum hole to play with, which he concentrated very hard on I think since he did such a lovely gentle job of starting out with that — thank you Sir!)

After he grew tired of fucking my pussy, he had me resume my oral servicing. I got more and more into it as I went, gasping and gulping him in, shoving his dick so far down my throat I couldn’t even think about breathing. Eventually I needed to take a break from that so I could catch my breath, and I moved to licking the shaft and sucking his balls. I don’t know what it is about this act — filling my mouth with his sack — but the more I do it, the more and more I worship his cock. I used to have such an aversion to cocks in general. I would enjoy them for their penetrative benefits, but I thought they were gross to look at, even grosser to lick or suck, and forget about jizzing in my mouth. And to be honest, I’m not entirely sure I feel that much different about all the other cocks out there. It’s really something that’s grown out of the D/s, probably as a primal symbol of his masculinity and dominance. Cliché much? Oh biology, how I do love thee so.

Speaking of things I love, let’s get back to licking that beautiful cock and sucking those soft balls. I was running my tongue over every inch, discovering every nook and fold all over again, more and more eager with each moment. He was so salty and delicious, that I was utterly confused when he apologised for how he tasted. You see, Zeus has been working ridiculously long hours this week — just clocked in 42 hours overtime over the cycle, apparently, but they did sweet fuck all for the first 5 out of the 11 days, so you do the math — and last night was another late one. He hasn’t had a chance to take a proper shower in a few days, as we live a nomadic lifestyle so it’s not a simple matter of turning on the taps and hopping in.

But my dearest forgets some things. First, he married a hippie. I’ve always preferred real body odour over sharp cologne, and real body taste is just the natural corollary to that. Second, soap tastes like cilantro. Well, not to me, but he has that gene. I much prefer the salty, tangy taste of sweat over yucky, icky soap. I mean I appreciate the gesture of cleanliness and all, but I’m a big fan of water-only bathing as much as possible. I use Dr. Bronner’s on my armpits and hair, and my hands whenever they’re “dirty,” but I don’t feel the need to wash off every bacterium or drop of sweat that comes near my epidermis. Those things are all part of a healthy human biome.

I summarised this deep, insightful response very eloquently. I believe it went something like “wuh-uhn, I wike ih. Thoap is wukky awyway.” and went back to my worship. Because Zeus is not an ejaculator (he prefers to keep going, and retain his energy… it’s a tantric thing), I have learned to accept that I don’t get to have him fill my mouth. Perhaps eventually I’ll be gifted that treat, but that’s for him to decide when of course. So eventually I eased off and it got gentler and gentler, ending with soft kisses and licks with my head resting on his thighs. It was such a tender, loving moment. I felt so connected to him, and so utterly submissive. I had my beautiful tears still wetting my face from the earlier throat work, and a slight sniffle from the same. Ear, nose, and throat, right? Luckily my hearing seems unaffected.

Like a virgin

My fellatio training continues. Sir read my post and was eager to claim his new privilege, which is of course as much my privilege if not more. Yes… I think more mine, because he’s the one that makes me stop when I’m always eager to continue!

It’s funny how quickly and easily I get in the mood when Sir claims his prize. I can be sitting there thinking about something else completely, but when he tells me to get on my knees, instantly I’m ready and eager. I’m his.

My technique is improving. Sir is patient while I experiment and learn what I’m doing down there. He gives me good feedback, always positive and encouraging. If he wants me to do something different, he says so, rather than criticising the way I’m doing it at the time.

The weirdest part for me, given my lifelong “relationship” with blowjobs, is how much I’m enjoying them, fantasizing about them, craving them.

And it’s not like I want to go suck every dick I see. But his I find myself spending far too much time thinking about — the feeling of it in my mouth, the way it gets hard in response to my lips and tongue, the fullness of my mouth being so stuffed with cock that I can’t even breathe, him pressed into the back of my throat cutting off my air supply… Gasping for quick breathes between mouthfuls of flesh… Savoring every sweet second, devouring every delicious inch.

Then he bends me over. Oh how I hate that part *evil grin*. He makes me play with myself while he fucks me from behind, calling me his good pussy. I used to be so offended by any kind of humiliation or objectification. I’m a good little feminist, had to tow that company line! But screw that, I’m his dirty little slut. And I love it!

After I’m good and fucked with at least one orgasm (he’s so considerate!), I get to clean my juices off him. That’s always such a treat, in more ways than one. There’s the obvious: another opportunity to enjoy my new hobby, along with the pleasant reminder of being used, of what a dirty girl I am.

It’s all so new and fun. In so many ways, I feel like a recently deflowered virgin who’s just discovered the wide and wonderful world of sex. I’m shy and bashful around my own husband, which is at once fun and yet so ridiculous. For the first time in our relationship, I’m the one who’s having trouble talking about my feelings, wants, and needs… Not wanting to be needy or demanding (for once!), but recognizing that I do still need to talk about these things — more than ever! Besides all the fun we’re having and the intimacy we’re sharing, I think one of the best things about this is what we’re growing and learning: him to ask for what he wants instead of getting frustrated and resentful, and me put him first for a change, and not get frustrated or resentful every time I don’t get my way.

First face fucking!

I’ve it never been big into blowjobs. Or even small into them. I’ve only had a couple boyfriends I’d do it at all with, and only if they asked really nicely, and I was never that into it. I don’t imagine they were very good blowjobs.

With Sir, we had a mostly sexless marriage for most of our relationship*. I never gave head. I established early on that it wasn’t something I actually enjoyed doing, and Sir isn’t the type to enjoy someone doing something dutifully if they don’t enjoy it themselves. So he long ago gave up the idea, and seemed generally fine with that. Or at least resigned (*edit: He says not resigned, and wants to add that we’ve had a happy, comfortable, and successful marriage to date, and neither one of us was craving more for most of it.)

But in our discussions around this whole Ds thing, I expressed that I’d probably enjoy having his cock shoved in my mouth, if he wanted. He was taken aback, since it was never something I’d been interested in before. But then, none of this is anything I’d been interested before, so he just added it to the list of “Who are you, and what did you do with my wife?” He kept it in his back pocket to bring out for just the right moment.

Author’s note: My Liege hasn’t attempted to rescue his charming, sweet wife from my secret lair. I continue to hold her captive, keeping her occupied with cat videos and bubblegum. My evil plan is coming together without a hitch.

It turns out that right moment was just the other night. I wanted to write about this yesterday, but needed some time to reflect. And savour.

It started out on a completely different page. I’ve been dealing with this annoying wart on my finger, and I decided to get aggressive with it. I did a freezing treatment earlier in the week, and then it was sufficiently beaten down that I was able to pick at it and get down to the root. I soaked it in water for a few minutes to soften up the tissue and really help the freezing treatment get in there. It worked. I kept the freezing in place for a whole minute, instead of the 20 seconds recommended on the package (I really want to kill this little fucker). It hurt SO MUCH. Then I took off the freezing, and it hurt EVEN MORE.

Sir, compassionate and caring man that he is, saw my pain and sought to relieve it. Failing that, he settled for distraction. He bit my neck. Hard. My reaction was immediate, I melted into a puddle and let out a deep sigh for good measure. He followed that up with some hard (for me, not for him) spanks, pinches, and nipple grabs. It really pushed my pain limits! My thumb was completely forgotten.

I still maintain that I’m not a masochist. The pain itself doesn’t feel good, but the whole experience feels good. I enjoy pushing my limits and making myself tolerate the intensity. I’m finally starting to learn not to top from the bottom, not to try and limit and control everything he does. I just express myself, like if it really hurts I’ll make hurty noises. I’ll provide enough feedback that he knows where I’m at, attempting to nonverbally express whether I’m enjoying it or merely tolerating it, and let him decide where he wants to take me. Isn’t that supposed to be the whole point? It’s the control I want to give up. I’m starting to really learn what that means, within play. And I find that I enjoy it much more when I don’t fuss and try to micromanage the sensations.

Eventually we got to what I knew, and hoped, was coming.

“Turn around.” I was bent over the couch. I stood up and turned around.

“Get on your knees.” Oh goodie!

“Suck my cock.” YES!

It was everything I hoped it would be, and more. I was so enthusiastic and just threw myself into it. He actually seemed surprised by my eagerness. I’d shared before that I wanted to be face fucked. Once I was getting into sucking, he decided that seemed like a good time to get more aggressive. I gagged. It was fun. I gagged a LOT! There were tears. It was intense. It was hot! I was a mess. I absolutely loved it.

It’s so weird.

Even just 6 months ago, I wouldn’t have been remotely thinking this way. I was such a prude! If he would ever have come home and told me to suck his cock, I would have laughed and asked if he’d gone crazy. Now if he walked in the door and said that, I’d be on my knees with a twinkle in my eye, faster than he could get his work boots off (Sir, I hope you’re reading this…)

“Stand up. Bend over.” Oh goodie goodie goodie. I was about to get my brains fucked out! Sir did not disappoint.

“Play with yourself.” Sir loves it when I help make myself come. But he didn’t let it get that far this time.

“Turn around and taste yourself on my dick.” Mmmm.

Then more face fucking, more gagging. I was really nervous that all the gagging would be a turn-off, but I think it’s part of the attraction. I have to remember this isn’t vanilla. It’s not supposed to be tender and sweet and loving. That making someone gag on your dick is pretty much the ultimate cock power move. I mean sure, anal is pretty degrading, but there are nerve endings in there that create a lot of mutual pleasure. There’s nothing “fun” about gagging, except how it makes you feel so powerless and submitted. Which is soooo much fun!!!,

The cock sucking was the major difference between this and some of the other scenes we’ve done before, but I think it made a huge difference. I really enjoyed it. I really enjoyed how objectifying it was. I think it also helped Sir get a lot more out of it, since it’s a pretty big “about him” kind of thing! It helped keep the focus balanced between both our pleasures.

One thing that would have been frustrating if I didn’t know Sir so well is that he never came. He’s got incredible orgasm control, and he uses it extensively. He’s at that stage in life where a good orgasm means instead sleep, and he wasn’t quite ready to go down for the night. Since I’m not experienced at giving blowjobs, that might have been a cause for concern – didn’t I do it right? Was it that bad? But I could tell that one of the times Sir was fucking me from behind, he almost did come, because he pulled out really quickly. He likes it tight and I had slightly crossed my legs to make the space smaller, and that pretty much did it – I was getting face fucked again!

One thing that’s funny, after a day of reflection, is that I’m still shy about offering blowjobs. You’d think after that, I’d just get over it. But yesterday I wanted to give him one but was too shy (with my own husband!) to bring it up. We just weren’t in “that” headspace. Specifically, he wasn’t in the headspace to demand one (and/or wasn’t feeling the need for one), and I’m not yet accustomed enough to all of this to beg him to let me give him one. Or maybe I’m embarrassed that I actually enjoyed it. Or, and this is probably most of it, I’m still apprehensive about my performance.

They say that sex is like pizza, that even when it’s bad, it’s still pretty good. But that’s bullshit. I’ve had some really bad sex in my time, and it was NOT better than no sex. Not by a mile. So I don’t want to give a bad blowjob, because I’m not convinced that’s better than no blowjob. But then, I’m not a man. Maybe any blowjob is better than no blowjob. And certainly, any blowjob given with love and genuine attempt to please can’t be that bad, right?

I know what I’m doing tonight…

Public vs Private Play Energy

Sir asked me to blog about this. It’s really more his “thing” so I’ll do my best to portray it accurately.

While we were playing the other night, Sir and I lost momentum and he needed some time to reflect. In the process, he accidentally sorta dropped me, as he told me to just “stay here” while he was going to go have a cigarette. But we’d been doing some really intense things, and I didn’t feel comfortable being left alone like that. That was what sort of triggered the “all about me” discussion we had that night, but there was this other aspect that I felt deserved its own post.

But another thing he talked about was the loss of energy he experienced during the scene. He’s played pretty extensively at kink parties throughout the years, some years more than others. Some of his scenes have been very intense (he’s a very strong man – those real, farmer kind of muscles that are actually powerful and useful, not the flashy gym muscles that appeal to the masses but are effectively useless in the real world) and some have lasted quite a while, hours at times. Not with me, because “I’m not a masochist” (I seem to be meaning that less and less every time I say it, although it still doesn’t resonate with me; sensualist would be better, I enjoy sensations which are sometimes very intense but sometimes those intense sensations are waaayy too much. I digress.) But he’s had some really intense scenes. Sooo, there’s this part of me, when he loses energy in the scenes, where I start to worry and have anxieties.

One of them is whether it’s me, because hey I’m human and who’s not going to wonder that?

I worry that I’m being an “energy vampire.” We’ve always had a very energetic, spiritual kind of connection, ever since we met. It was instantaneous and intense and deep, very fast. We pretty much moved in together on our first date. But sometimes when we’d do tantric energy play in our early relationship, he would again feel very drained. We eventually stopped doing it much, because it wasn’t meeting his needs. I wasn’t really ready to learn to control my own energy and focus, so it just wasn’t there yet. But lately, especially since I returned from India, we’d begun experimenting with it a little again, and he said it wasn’t draining him anymore. It’s been 10 years after all, and I’ve grown quite a bit (I’m 35 now, and we all know how grown-up people are in their 20’s!!). I’ve also been meditation more, and then really focusing on trying to cycle and return energy when we play. Honestly I still don’t even know what I’m doing, but if he said I wasn’t draining him, then I was taking him at his word and assuming that whatever I was attempting was somewhat working.

But then when he reports that he’s feeling drained in play sessions (specifically the more corporeal type play), of course I start to worry that “it’s back!”

He also tells me I’m overthinking things. Sometimes people just get tired. Give it a break. That was our second session in the night, maybe we need to take it a lot slower. The first session had a pretty good progression and honestly would have probably been a perfectly good place to stop, if he hadn’t gone and ended it with the word “recess” that just planted seeds in my active little imagination!!

And then the other thing he suggested, which is supposed to be the whole point of this post, is that when he playing at parties, there’s this whole different energy flow. There’s a room full of people. I mentioned he’s an intense players, and I have no problem saying that he tends to attract an audience. Just the way he can read his bottoms and know how to take them up to their edge and hold them there, and ride these waves, it’s impossible to describe and really something to see. And so in the midst of this audience, there’s basically a huge cycle of energy in the room. There’s people feeding their energy into the scene just by watching it, and him feeding it back to the bottom, whose feeding their energy to him and so on and so forth. So one of the simplest things he’s suggesting is that he just needs that for such intense scenes, especially for multiple rounds.

And that’s totally fair. As I mentioned, corporeal play never was my main draw and it’s just one of many many many things I’m curious to explore. If it’s not something he has a ton of energy for (it does, obviously, take a lot of physical energy!), I’m perfectly fine exploring other activities, things that allow us to feed each other’s energy and maybe more intimate, loving exchanges too.

Maybe, just maybe, we even need to have a punishment model and save the hard spankings for that, and keep our scenes mostly sexy with just some light spanks. And maybe some of these are things that I’m not supposed to be the one to decide….. 😉