Wow

Not sure I am even going to do this weekend justice, but I will try

Friday
It's been an age since we both 'looked forward to Friday'. I wasn't expecting much just the need to be in your arms again. So we talked, we sparred, we tangoed, we jostled for position. We went to bed. We felt it. We felt the need. We went to sleep.

Saturday morning
We woke. There was an urgency. There was lust. No words were needed but being throttled by you, having my head turned to suck your cock - I understood. This was not about me - this was about us, about you, about me serving you. Wow.


We went for a wander - an old school mooch. We went into London, we enjoyed, we were just us. Two people enjoying some time off. And it was fantastic but hot, great but busy. We ate prawns outside a pub - a girly 'flirted' with me. We were just us having some time together.

Home. Supper. Washing up. Mundanity. Togetherness. Comfortable togetherness.

Nine o'clock 'well, you'd better go and have a shower' Not that I wasn't expecting it as you'd already planted in my mind - I'm going to tie you up, I'm going to re-cut that 'D'

I took extra care. Usually I just jump in and out. But Saturday night - I re-shaved, I ensured I was spotless for you.

Downstairs. What music? Jokes with the rope. Too trivial. I wanted more demonstrative explosion of your command - sit there, look at me, shut up. I didn't need to wait too long.

Rope. Too thick, too loose but still I understood the significance. Then you slapped my face - twice. That was enough. Stop f**king about. Listen to me. I'm in charge. My cheek was burning when you got your knife. Against my breast, on my throat, on my cheek. I couldn't breathe - all I wanted was to relax, all I got was panic, fear, anxiety, headache, expectation. You kissed me, you put the collar around my neck that I had seen for two weeks (that I had imagined for every day of that two weeks) This is where I want you to be. God it felt amazing. I melted. I understood. I shivered. Then I giggled. The rope had moved. I'm sorry. This was a defining moment - you are mine - you are mine forever - you are mine - and I giggled. Sorry xx

But this wasn't it. I thought that would be it - I had broken the moment, I had ruined the headspace but NO. You were in your element. Made me go and get two towels (in my head - blood??? comfort? save the table?) and then I pansied around - oh my god the table won't hold me while all the while thinking - what the hell is he going to do? how does he know the table will hold me? who else has he had on this table?)

Curtains closed, music chosen, breathing settled (almost).

The knife. The wonderful amazing, challenging, levelling knife. I couldn't get my breathing in sync. I wanted to relax but I couldnt. I was panicking. Knife. body. flesh. It was hard. It used to be easier but then it never used to mean this much. This was IT. this was the reconciliation, the 'rest of our life' play. This was serious. So I slowed my breathing, I concentrated on my heart, on the knot of towels within my hands. And I enjoyed and loved and endured and hoped you were doing the same.

I already knew you had rigged the violet wand up. I was expecting the crackle, the noise, the feeling. It never came. Instead - you pierced my skin. Up by my neck. You put something through my skin. I KNEW it was a needle yet...yet...I also know how you can play with my mind. Until the third or fourth prick, pain, heat, deep breath, fire, I still didn't believe. So I just went with it. Time after time - pain, prick, heat, relief. By my spine. Through my skin, down my back. The crunckle of the paper, the pierce, prick, heat, relief. And it went on and on and on and on. And at some point you said 'you are doing so well' but by then I wasn't doing anything - I was just being. I was mewing, I was exhaling, I was twitching. At some point you put a very large knife on my back but by then I was so confused, so mind-f**ked it could have been anything - a coke can, an orange. Oh yes and you scraped down my legs - that was a first - so horribly scary but amazing.

Fast forward. You were taking needles out of my back. I heard you dropping them into the sharps bin, I felt you wiping blood away. I asked you if you had made me bleed. You dipped a finger (thumb?) then brought it to my parched mouth. God I wish you had let me suck then. I didn't even taste a thing but I knew then that I was bleeding.

Then. Fire pain sharp horrible pain as you took a blade to my arse. Straight down - okay I can deal with that. Curve - NOOOOOOOOOOOO. Stop now, I can't cope. Please please please daddy stop. I thought I would cry. Then it stopped.

Surgical spirit. You can tell me a million times it helps me but I HATE IT. I was so far gone - so completely under your spell - and then you scrape and cleanse my back and arse with something that to be honest is worse than all the knives and needles you own. And again (just for fun apparently). I HATE IT. It makes my floaty, out of this world, god I love you moment turn into AAAAAAAAARGH. Afterwards I understand. At the time just AAAAAAARGH.

Twice you disappeared. Twice I panicked internally. I needed you. I needed you to say 'my baby' I needed you to touch between my legs I needed you to reassure me that I had done well. When finally you returned to help me off the table I was absolutely flying. Off with the fairies - away with the fairies perhaps? I didn't even realise until I stood up, my heart stopped beating, my head stopped pounding, my hands stopped shaking. The rest is a blur. I couldn't see, I couldn't talk, I couldn't focus.

God I needed you then. Strong, tall, big, dependable. Almost like it wasn't you that had just put me through all that - you were my saviour. You were my rock. You were my blanket.

Afterwards. You looked elated. I looked wrecked. We were miles apart. I needed to be in your arms, on your lap. You chuckled - how many needles? Twelve I said maybe (thinking that was an exaggeration) 38 you said. My head went mad. Then I needed, had to be in your lap.

Bed. Hugs. Analysis. Not just of tonight but of the last week. Then the sleep of the dead - the best night's sleep in about six months. Waking to hugs and a hard-on and 'my baby' and sex and orgasms and sleep and hugs and mutual love and respect.

WOW. A weekend like no other. I wore my collar proudly for 24 hours and when you went to take it off, I died inside. I wanted to wear it forever. I belong to you. I'm yours. Who cares about convention, tradition, expectation? Who cares? I'm yours and I want the world to know.

WOW xxxxxxx