I’ve hurt my back. I have no idea how, but I have. Sir has adjusted my rules to accommodate this injury by making me wear a back “brace” until it’s healed. By that, I mean a corset. I’m to wear it 24/7 unless showering. I even wear it when I do my exercises. Sir does, however, loosen it for those! Each morning he unlaces me, I shower, shave, etc. Then, he laces me back into a corset. I have 3 that he rotates so that one can be washed – by hand of course – and drying while I wear another. Just in case the first isn’t dry within 24 hours, I have a spare. If, however, I have to wear the spare one, He makes sure I’m laced super tightly. When I wear that one, there is no way I can lean back against a chair or bend at the waist. You can be sure I make the effort to be sure both of my pretty corsets are dry even if it means holding a blow drying to one! He laces me tightly, but not too tightly. I cannot slouch – which is good – but I can bend and sit back. We started this five days ago when I first began having back issues. Just so you know, Sir is a Chiropractor so he knows what he’s doing. Honestly, my back feels much, much better now aftere only 5 days! Truthfully, I’m a bit hesitant to tell him this because I kinda like wearing the corsets. I definitely like him lacing me into them. The first night, it was awkward to sleep in it, but I’m used to it now. The one thing I do miss – Sir’s hands on my skin, my belly, by breasts. I ache for the touch of his mouth on my nipples. Yes, he could push a cup down or get me an under the breast corset, but this is his motivation for me to improve. He’s right, too. I’m terrible about skimping on the stretches, exercises, and ice packs, but I so very much want his hands on me that I complete the regime he’s set for me without complaint.Sir truly is a thoughtful, protective man.
We live on a farm, which I absolutely adore. No near neighbors, just the chickens, ducks, and sheep. We don’t farm the 10 acres, we just raise the animals, sell the eggs, wool, and sheep’s milk. We love having the land around us, the meadows, the trees. So, when Farmer asked if I’d like to go for a walk with him, I gladly agreed. Then I saw the knife in his hand. I gulped, but felt my panties get wet anyway. “Pick a Stick,” he said. “A nice straight one.” After a few minutes, we passed the willow tree and I pointed to a long, slender branch which had fallen. Farmer nodded his approval, picked it up, and opened his knife. As we walked, we chatted about various things as Farmer cleaned the branch of it’s slick bark. Then, we can to what I fondly think of as The Whipping Tree. I looked at him and he looked at me. Pointedly. I unzipped my jeans and pushed them down. He laughed a bit when he saw how wet my panties already were. the weather had been awful of late and this was the first time in weeks we had been able to visit here. I got into position. Farmer asked what the date was. I closed my eyes in dismay and excitement. “The 20th, sir.”
“Then 20 it shall be. Do you know why I’m caning you?”
“No sir,” I answered honestly. I tried to think if I had broken any rules, but I didn’t think I had.
“Because it pleases me.”
Excellent Reason, I thought as he administered the first stripe.
He comes home and says the words that always make me tremble. Yes, I’m submissive, and Yes, He is my Lion, but we’re busy people and so we rarely live the lifestyle 24/7. That is until he says the words. “Are you willing to Submit?” I have a choice. I can say No, not today. I have, in fact said that before, but not tonight. Tonight, I want this more than I want oxygen. I fall to my knees, look up at him, and say, “Yes.” I unzip his trousers and do my duty. I worship his cock as a sign of my submission. In truth, I wish our schedules would work so that I could do this every day. There’s not much I love more than the feel of his silky steel hard cock sliding in and out of my mouth. I cradle his jewels and suck him in deeply. I keep him there, sucking, looking up at him. “You’re off work tomorrow?” he asks. I blink once – yes. We worked out this code – once for yes, twice for no – so that I don’t have to stop but can still answer him. “Good,” he says, his voice growing raspy. “I took the day off as well. Submit until you dress for work again.” My heart is so full now it’s leaking through my body and dripping onto my panties. I blink once. He pushes me back slightly and I reluctantly release his cock. I can’t help but to stare at it. Majestic, slick with my saliva, glorious. He reaches down, unzips my dress and pulls it off. “Hands,” he says. I look up at him, a tad disappointed because I so very much wanted his cock back in my mouth. Instead, I obey. I use my hands on him. I see his balls tighten and open my mouth, eager for his taste. “No. Lean back.” He laughs and takes is cock in his own hands. A moment later he sprays himself across my breasts. The hot cream practically scalds my skin and I gasp, my eyes never leaving his. “I want you covered in my cum,” he says, another stream hitting my skin. “I want to see it dried on your skin, dripping from your cunt, running down your chin.” He grinds out the last word and I know he’s serious. I smile up at him, thrilled to be his target. He bends down, kisses me on my mouth, hard and demanding. He helps me to my feet. I start to take off my bra, but he stops me, telling me he likes the look of my tits high and proud, covered in his milky white cream. I help him remove his jacket and tie while he tucks his cock back into his trousers. I ask if he’d like a drink, and he says, “Yes, thank you.” As I drop ice into a glass, I can’t help but smile. His cum is not dry and tight on my skin, a feeling both uncomfortable and comforting. He’s in no hurry and neither am I. We’ve got just over 24 hours to play, so there’s no need to rush.
The first warm week of Spring and I’m outside working on the yard. I love the feel the earth, the smell of green. Still, I follow My Love’s House Rules. Today, He is enforcing Rule Number 2. My body is His and as such, He has the right to see it whenever or wherever he chooses. Because my skin is delicate, fragile, and very, very fair, He allows me to wear a dress. Just a dress. The lack of shoes is actually my idea because I love the connection to the Earth. As I fill containers with potting soil, He lifts the back of my dress and touches me. I moan, am slightly annoyed, and open my mouth to object. Then, I come to myself (quickly, thank the gods!) and remain silent. I continue with my chore. I hear the sound of a zipper. My body reacts immediately. I’m wet, soft, and hot. I place my hands on the edge of the potting table and bend low, spreading my legs wide for Him. He enters me, slowly, easing into my body. I look down at his hands next to mine. They’re large, hard, but gentle now. A trembling begins in my core and soon, the earthquake travels throughout my body. He bites my shoulder, clenches his hands and fills me with himself. He pulls out, sated, and helps me to sit since my legs refuse to hold me up. Then, he lifts my skirt again, exposing me. I blush, hating this (but loving it as well). Soon, He will seep out of me, and here I sit, exposed and open, unable to hide behind my innate modesty. I think of the work I so very much want to do, but then I look up at him and know that here is my first priority. If He wants me exposed, then I will be exposed. If He wants to see what He has left behind slowly drip from me, He will see it. If it pleases Him that I stay here, then here I will stay. A flush of pride rises in me, replacing my embarrassment. He sees this change (of course he does!), lifts my chin with one finger, then kisses me.
Sage had written a list of personal characteristics she wanted to work on, things that she did often enough that she was ashamed. In fact some of these acts had cost her both friends and jobs. Ben, bless him, had agreed to help with these. He told her to choose five punishments that she’d be willing to withstand should she lapse into any of these behaviors, to write them on index cards, and place the cards in a small box. Then, whenever she fell into these habits, she’d pull a card and he’d be more than happy to administer the punishment
The habits included the following: 1. Smart Mouth, 2. mimicking or mocking someone, 3. dropping the F bomb, 4. refusing to do something she’d already agreed to, 5. shouting.
Today, it had been Smart Mouth (even after a warning) and Refusing to do something she’d already agreed to, which meant that she’d have to pull 2 cards. Ben didn’t say a word, just held out the box. Sighing, she nodded and chose. Spanking with a spatula. Exposure.
Over the counter, he said. Sage bit her lip. She didn’t want either of these, but she knew she needed it. Slowly, she did as he said. Ben pulled down her shorts and panties, exposing her bottom. Then he began. After five swats, Sage was pounding her fists on the countertop. After ten she was sobbing. After twenty, she was boneless, any bit of resentment or defiance having left her body.
Ben bent over, kissed her neck and whispered. Now that’s much better. Last time it took 35 swats to bring you to this level. Sage smiled through her tears. It didn’t matter that he ass felt swollen and bruised. All that mattered was that she had improved. She stood, wrapped her arms around Ben’s neck and kissed him. He reached down to the hem of her t-shirt, lifting as far as he could. He broke the kiss then removed the shirt.
You can keep the bra on. I wouldn’t want those perfect nipples to get snapped by grease. No complaining and no other incidents, and after breakfast I’ll make love to you until you scream my name.
Weekend Level Up:
My Love is pushing me to Another Level. I welcome this. I want this. I need this. Don’t for one moment think I’m a wimpy little rug with no self esteem who’s grateful for some big strong man to abuse me. Nope. Not at all. I hold a Ph.D., am a tenured professor, and have never once been ashamed of my who I am. What I am is a secure, intelligent, loving woman who graves a release from the World. My Love provides that for me. Slowly, he is taking me up and up levels of submission until I am able to give him all of my power. That is what I crave and what he is willing to lead me to – Total Exchange of Power. I exchange my power for his control. My submission for his Dominance. My love for his.
This weekend, My Love has confined me to the house. I am to remain nude, nothing hidden from Him. I am also to be leashed at all times. My “leash” is actually no more than a skein of yarn tied loosely around my waist. I have free movement of our home so long as the yarn stays put. My Love has, bless Him, made sure that all the blinds are down so I don’t have to worry about walking by an open window where anyone passing by might see. Why this? Because weekends are when I do the grocery shopping, the gardening, exchanging my library books. By agreeing to remain leashed, I am giving My Love the power to do these things. I’m trusting him. By agreeing to remain nude, I’m giving My Love the power to enjoy my body in any way he chooses – to look at it, caress it, fuck it, condition it, discipline it, play with it. I’m trusting him.
If I succeed at making it until Monday morning without complaining, I will be rewarded. How? That’s for Him to decide. If I do complain, untie the lease, or put on even one stitch of clothing, I will be disciplined. That’s for Him to decide.
Will this be challenging for me? You have no idea. Is He happy I’m eager to do this? Indeed yes. Who’s going to be happier if I succeed? Me. Definitely Me.
Because He needs release, I gladly attend to Him. I am his refuge, His relaxation, His comfort.
He sent me a text earlier today, telling me of His need. It is my pleasure much more than my duty as his submissive to cater to Him. I prepared my body – showering, shaving, cleaning everything both inside and out. Fixing my hair, my make-up and dressing as He prefers. Next, I arranged His favorite toys – dildos, plugs, cuffs, nipple clamps, floggers, spreader bars, paddles, blindfolds, and gags – so that they are easily within his reach. I have no idea which he’ll use, but I want him to have everything he might need readily available. Then, I wait. I stand, nose to the cold, hard brick wall, hands behind my back, and wait. I’ll stay as long as it takes. He’s due home at any moment, but whether it’s five minutes or an hour, I’ll wait upon His pleasure because this pleases me. I soften and feel my labia swell. I smell my own musk. My nipples harden into bullet points and I pray he’ll suck them, bite them, clamp them. They beg for attention.
I hear his footfall on the steps coming down to the basement, but I remain still. He runs a warm hand down my back and I shiver. “Thank you, my love. For this,” he says, his hand now on my bottom. “The thought of you is what got me through this day.” He runs his fingers between my lips. I sigh with pleasure and he feels my wetness. “I fear you’re in for a very long session. Are you ready?”
“Yes, Milord. I am.”