Thoughts and fantasies of a submissive

We have been having a very fine time of late,Miss and I.  Ordinary, regular happiness and in the season of the slut. I hasten to add that the slut is me, Miss being a lady. So it's the season of frillies and shaven legs and stockings. Again I hasten to add, the stocking are worn by me. Miss is far too much a modern lady to wear anything so silly as stockings, sadly. So these fripperies are for me.  So we have regular, happy adventures but no record of them. I've mentioned this before, but I hope to have a collection of happy photographs, commemorating let moments.  So  Miss' choice was pink. I'll ll wear that combination about my person to lunch and home after. When we get in I'd love to have a picture of Miss taking my pink presented privates in her lovely fist.  Miss could you please oblige tomorrow? 

Miss and I have been having our usual fun, regular as clockwork, though sadly the clock never chimes any more... But being me I am always thinking of ways for Miss to extend her control over me. This week I asked if she could forbid me from climaxing, and she did, thanks you ma Belle Tyrante. So now I'm in a tizzy of frustration and anticipation and writing here again. See I need to be properly denied to get the creative juices flowing.  My thought for our usual meet ups is for you Miss to choose your preferred intimate restraint for me to wear to our rendezvous. We can start simple, would you like me to wear: the pink ensemble, a pink band around the head of the knoblet and a pink scrunchy about the base and the balls Or The clear rubber knobbled ring around the head of the knoblet and a thicker clear knobbled rubber ring around the base of the knoblet? You can send me instructions by just messaging Pink or Rubber.  Simples. Then I thought that when we get to RV and I go to t...

... drools. the other day Miss and I were out shopping as usual and a heavily tattooed trader at the market saw her tattoo and she, being a free spirited soul lifted her t shirt to show him her shoulder. Or as I put it, flashed her well filled bra to the guy and much of a very busy market.   As Miss' bag carrier/pack horse/donkey I could do little beyond look appalled and get told she doesn't give a toss, as is her right. She is far more liberated than i. Her muscled trader friend was impressed and asked if I had any tattoos and of course I don't.  But then he suggested I should get one and Miss agreed in her amiable way.  I was not so sure but then got to thinking. Should I get a tattoo? What should I get. Miss suggested something incriminating for my forehead, ha ha. in the meantime, a thort came to me. Perhaps as a tester she could write Miss Rules, knoblet drools on my belly in black ink? It's true and while temporary it would be fun. And she can imagine me furio...

 I am seeing Miss on Friday and very much looking to that.  Miss will have carte blanche on how to end me, which will make her very happy and will wind up being very traumatic for me in some way no doubt.   But I never want for ideas and dumb suggestions, and so thought that Miss could show her affection for me by having some fun objects to hand for Friday. First: the green velvet leash.   Miss likes to get her hands on me when we get in so it might be nice if she unzips me, slips the knoblet and his cowardly friends out and after giving them a workout to her satisfaction she slips the leash over my balls. It's just a simple slip knot but she could lead me about, to the kitchen first to pack away the shopping and then to the couch to say hi to the feathered fiend and tend to Miss feet. While she keeps me shortleashed in exactly the right way.  Left: Hanging on the bannister so it is in sight when we get home.  Second: The long handled scrubbing br...

 So this Friday I am getting back to boring normality, after a week curtailed by illness. Breakfast somewhere we know well and which we love. Lots of playful banter with the staff, as I have to explain the latest escapade Miss has conjured for their and her amusement.  Then around the market, ours but not a private one, form some donkey work, me carrying her shopping like the obedient servant that i am. Home via the train, hopefully a quiet one where Miss can get her hand on my crotch and remind me who is boss. Boss of the knoblet for sure.  Then home for some time on the sofa, chat with her housemate and attention to her legs and her tootsies.  Then bath and what will probably be the last shave of the season, hopefully with a good scrub of my dirtier places so they are properly clean and pink. Upstairs for dressing and then a doze, as we are both dozy and much practised in that skill. Wake for Miss time, nuff said, and a bit of a cwtch before dinner.  Dinner of...

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...