Thoughts and fantasies of a submissive

While there may be 4 seasons technically, for my kinky life there are just two.  The first coincides with Spring and Summer, when i play sport and must be in my natural state, hairy and "masculine". For these times I serve naked and collared, in my red service collar belled to provide a melodious background to my movements.  This is the perfect season for my straitjacket, which I have been lucky enough to get more wear out of this year. Miss likes it as it covers my hairy chest, and I like because it is flattering and keeps me comfortable, but wonderfully bound. One day I will hopefully be kept in it for longer than just the odd afternoon.  Hopefully I'll have a pic or two of me in it for my therapy sessions soon. In my soft black hood too.  But Miss prefers the other season, the season of the sissy slut.  The season starts when I have my first shave, and consists mainly of me in stockings, a lovely 6 strap suspender belt and full figure, black control panties. ...

I had a fabulous day again with Miss last week, our usual mix of pleasantnesses, a fine breakfast, good company, some snoozing, some wabbit assaults and some time on the sofa with a straitjacket and some coconut oil. Happy times. And on that alone, thank you Miss may I please have another... On the sofa and when in Miss' embrace upstairs she would occasionally be rougher with me, to which I would say pretty please, pretty please more please. When she was roughly tweaking my nipples or slapping the knoblet from side to side it inflamed me as it always does, the pain its usual accelerant. But I got to thinking, as one does when a sweet woman is pumping and polishing one, how Miss could make me beg for abuse. Not just abuse I crave, to have my knoblet slapped about and my balls squeezed in her fist but for things that are just a little too much for me. Like some firm patting spanks on my balls. Or little flicks on them. Or a steady stream of splats with a ruler to the head of the knob...

The flip side of me asking very nicely for the bondage and abuse i crave, is that Miss doesn't have to ask at all. She doesn't have to say anything, she can just do. And does.  But i dream of her just speaking to me, quietly over breakfast, or just talking into my ear on the train in the way home. Not asking if she can do something but telling me. This will happen. When we get home these things will happen. I will do them and you will accept them.  Whatever they are. Whether I'd prefer something else ... no matter.  And there would be the world going by unaware. Miss smiling sweetly at the world, the picture of ignorance. Me just processing what will happen. Coming to terms with my fate, with what will happen in private while the world passes on oblivious.  Just not in a loud voice please Miss, no need to alarm the world.  Just me.  

 Miss and I enjoy very lazy Fridays and have been known to have a doze or two in amongst the usual frolics and frivolity. Miss usually has an extra sleep to me and i usually just hold her tenderly while she dozes, trying to keep as still as possible as I listen to her slow breathing. But i thought Miss might a variation for her all important third doze: I roll over to my side away from Miss, in the recovery position legs slightly spread whilst on my side. Miss rolls next to me and gets comfortable with the right number of pillows and lying slightly below me. When she is as comfy as possible, she reaches out with her left hand between my legs and grips my package. She then settles down to her doze, feeling her grip on my most sensitive places, and feel whatever she does in her dreams.   I must lie as still as I can, for when Miss wakes she will shift from slumber to roughing me up in her usual preferred style. Which will keep me wide awake as I wait for the deep breathing ...