Thoughts and fantasies of a submissive

Still musing about ways to improve how i look in sessions, ie by reducing what you can see of me to smallest amount possible. So for the other season - Summer time - i was thinking more about second skins to cover what will be, by then , pale flesh with unseemly hair. I well remember my second session with Miss, a latex suit based session where she promised to make me look beautiful (and polished the latex too) and take me to the moon. She did both so perhaps that's the way to go in the hot months? Covered in a more or less complete latex suit, slippery within (due to natural and unnatural lubricants) and with the barest possible extrusions of sensitive flesh. Drawn out through openings that are but barely sufficient, to swell and throb obscenely and excruciatingly, tenderised and needy, blood engorged and hyper sensitive. Or another thought, a second skin of pale neoprene, the classic all over body suit - head to toe in occluding breathable fabric. Reduced to a doll with le

So i was seeing Mistress the other day and having a fine old time as ever. As per my request she was taking lots of photographs and videos to commemorate the occasion, which was nice as some times there are none to remember it by (very sad). Sometimes there are too few so there may be just one or maybe two that i am happy with, not showing my face or me not looking like a pale lump. So i have lots of pictures and that is great, and for which many thanks. Of course most (almost all alas) show me as a fat pale excuse for a man (no-one's fault save my own). It's what i am, this physical form at least, but means there is a huge disconnect between how i feel in session (which is amazing) and how i look (which is not). I'm getting inspired to fix some of the worst of it (exercise if not diet) but also makes me think that i need for more than just for the arts of photography to be deployed as sympathetically as possible (ie something beyond darker lighting and careful framing

So i was round at Miss's for the celebration of 15 years of happy fooling about in various ways. Despite work delaying me i got in in time for food and chat, and after a short while a nice warming bath as we reminisced about sessions past. Shaved and dressed we sat demurely on the couch for a time,  drinking wine and just chilling. Before time slipped away too far i persuaded Miss upstairs for a proper bit of psmpering. Which I'm pretty sure she enjoyed, despite regular complaints... Whilst working in another dollop of lotion ('gloop!') I suggested that on the morrow she commemorate each of the orgasms she intended to inflict on me with a bite leading to a bruise. Also that she time each so that when i looked at my bruises after I'd know exactly what was happening when they had been inflicted.  She was taken with the idea but when next morning she returned to have her way with me, she ruined the first and didn't do that. No sooner had i mentally begun to c

A long time ago, when the century was still pretty new and shiny, i started seeing London's premier Dommetrex. I didn't know her as that then, and it took a good few years for my terror in her presence to abate. But it did and over the years, and as circunstances have changed and allowed, Miss (not her real name) has become a true friend.  Soon it will be 15 years. Fifteen of the mother f'ing years alluded to in the title. That is a very scary number but also very comforting. With the exception of my SO, it's the longest relationship of my life. Not the longest friendship but certainly the longest where i have regularly lost my trousers or had them replaced with panties... Miss it has been a happy time, notwithstanding the occasional great sadnesses. But we keep their spirits with us in our memories and our actions, which are so often echoes of their lives. In our playful banter, which echoes his sharp wit. In my loyalty and service which is but a reflection o

So I'm locked again. At the bidding of Mistress who just popped online to demand it. Needless to say i complied, gladly and right quick. Now one question with two desired answers? Who'll notice? In the household, the desired answer is no-one. In part because it must and in part as a sad comment on things. I shouldn't complain. The other who'll know is Miss because she's my best, and often only viewer. .. Do Miss when you read this i hope you're amused by it. i hope that you are still so when next we meet for a bit of posh nosh. That you knowing what the sniffy waiter doesn't will help deal with any residual issues with these people. That and you can take it out on what the waiter doesn't know when in private (or if I'm  lucky under the table...) In other news i got a very kind compliment today from an unsolicited source who had also had a read of my blog. He thought me a tad ott for thanking him but it was very kind and it made me very ha

More daydreams instead of real work. This morning I've been thinking about "Air B &D" another half formed, ill thought out serial that i haven't got around to getting out of my head yet. I need to actually just write these things down. Instead I'm daydreaming about recent or upcoming trips to my only two readers. My thinking was about the optimal rope to ravish ratio. Sometimes the act of being restrained is itself a large part of the fun. The layering of rope, it's slow cinching and tightening it can be very hypnotic. Likewise the squeal of tape as it circles my arms and then my torso. Working seductively down over my hips to my toes, at the end just a wriggling slug of a creature, comfortable on the bed and yet terrified for the bits of me that will be exposed and the nothing  i can do to protect them. Those are perfect where time is not an issue. But the ratio of ravish to rope needs to be right. A short encounter needs simple quick ties, se

So I've been away from here for a little bit, mainly on Tumblr, which has been a fantastic source of perversion and, latterly of perverts themselves. But the corporates who run the thing have decided they don't want half their users. A bit like a planned  Titanic they are casting the unwanted 'not the better half' overboard and without lifeboats. While to an outsider this probably looks like a good thing, as so much of the content was very bad, it was nevertheless a happy little community of perverts, reaching out to each other and doing little harm (to anyone that wasn't fond of a little harm).  If anything the harm that was done was to talented pornography creators, so hopefully it will get  people like me to go back to renewing subscriptions... Or getting round to joining that patreon account... Still it's a sad little moment in life whenever any happy community is uprooted and there are plaintive little cries of frustration and sadness. Where will you