Thoughts and fantasies of a submissive

So the other week was Miss' birthday and I took her out for a special lunch at one of her fave restaurants. It was an epic meal, at a very classy place which makes a point of flaunting portion control conventions. I had to ask the charming waiter if he had any patrons who finished the fish and chips meal for the day to reassure Miss she wasn't lame for not finishing it.  We adjourned for home after a shared dessert (which neither of us deserved as we hadn't finished our mains) and headed back to the station. We caught the first train back as opposed to waiting for a far quieter one 5 minutes later so I missed out on the pleasure of her hand ravaging my crotch on way back. Not least as we couldn't even sit next to each other, some we poked faces at each other and I snapped a pic or so of her Miss behaving. Which was very cute and I shared with her, but not one for others.  We got back and the tights she wore made stroking her legs even nicer than usual. But also meant to...

I will be back with Miss tomorrow, and that makes me very happy. It has been two weeks and too long. To celebrate, i want to treat Miss as well as I can and as delicately as she wants to be treated, tender as she is from an unfortunately long illness.  So we'll meet up as usual, have breakfast and do some shopping.  When we get home I'll start by kneeling on the rug and kissing Miss's glorious bottom with the tenderest of full face press kisses.  Then we will retire to the front room where I will first remove Miss' shoes and socks and while she sits with legs across my lap, stroke her feet and her legs with the usual affection. After a chime's worth of chilling I'll pop up and fill a tub with soapy warm water, and soak Miss' feet in it, gently working them over in the suds and then towelling them dry when the water cools.  A pause for my own bath, as i need to shave up and be ready for primping.  Then upstairs for a cwtch and a doze or two, the best afternoo...

The bruises from my last time with Miss have sadly faded. Fortunately, the last time i offered my slim arm to her teeth, Miss was so vicious that she broke the skin. This hasn't healed yet. I am glad of it. The tiny knobble of scabby skin is something I can touch, something that verifies her mark. It's nice and easier to feel than my bruises.  But it's fading too and i need replacements badly. To be shaved and dressed again. To be abused, put in my straight jacket and made to endure hours of therapy, finished off with some cruel polishing and palming.  But woe, ma belle Tyrante is not feeling well.  I am full of sympathy and affection for her and pester her from afar to eat properly, rest up and take her meds.  But I also need.  I need bad things again, badly. It's got so as I have been slapping my own face throughout the day. One slap each cheek. Then  when the heat subsided, doing it again. And again. Sets out the kind of mood I'm in.  Firm treatment...

Sadly Miss has not been well, and neither has my old friend Kentish Miss so all my social engagements have dried up today and I am home alone. Which means I've been thinking about Miss and sending some flirty, dirty banter. Not quiet bratting, but on the cusp.  Yesterday I suggested I should spank her for not replying to one of my messages. This is very outrageous as I have never done that, but it's good to tweak the tail of my Miss even if I wouldn't spank it. Though having suggested I'd hit her on the bottom with the women's weekly, a la Victoria Wood, I went as far as googling it to see if they still print it.  Which they do... So your bottom isn't out of the woods yet Miss.  Mind you if I ever did I'm sure I would spend a lot of time kissing it better, however lightly it had been offended. And that the rolled up magazine would be used more stringently on a more efficacious area of my body for my temerity.  Then Miss advised me she was seeing a hygienist ...

...it was Miss all along. So i was on my long train ride and listening to Miss' choice of music for it. A long ambient trance track that was both atmospheric and a bit melancholic which was perfect for a misty grey day, which yielded finally to night with the sunset beautifully silhouetting trees on the skyline like arboreal skeletons. Over the course of the hours Miss rang and did not, long silences when i thought she'd stopped followed by rapid fire calls. For each call i squeezed the head of the knoblet between thumb and forefinger, through my trousers, counting the number of squeezes per call, getting as high as almost a hundred. I had thought i'd be able to do this from my pocket but ones i had on were quite awkward when sat down. So i just threw my coat over me as if asleep/dozing and with left hand under the folds of said coat, the regular pinching of thumb and forefinger was not noticeable to even me and i was doing it. When man on other side of the train left at fi...

Another wonderful session of therapy round with Miss the other night. Still feel tingly.  There were some technical difficulties early doors, with Miss setting up ad free Youtube and then having some internet difficulty. The kind we'll look back on and laugh one day, hell i'm laughing already ;) But wasn't when we were back online, Miss driving me like a race car.  Red lining it when she had me erect and panting almost constantly. With my voice rising and in near panic mode as she controls me but takes me to the edge so often, holding me near, breath ragged knoblet wishing to deflate for its own protection but waggling hard still.  There was a time one night when Miss was toying with me before we fell asleep and it was so intense and so controlled that I was genuinely afraid. I said I was tired and i needed to go to sleep. So we did. But as I lay next to her I was not asleep, i was relieved to escape.  Red lining me is the closest we have come to that.   Th...