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The online diary of an ethical pervert.

Tuesday, 22 July 2008

Sleep tight

"There you are," said The Photographer, as he fastened the leather cuffs to the metal ring at the front of the collar around my neck, "safe and sound". Which I was, and I felt very calm, lying there in the dark with his arms around me. We'd spent most of the afternoon and evening fucking and I'd just been allowed to make myself come so was tired but happy.

There is a particular sensation to sleeping tied up, to be held in such a way, constrained and kept in a certain position. I curl up on my side, smiling to myself at the sounds that the clip makes against the metal on the cuffs as I re-arrange myself. I don't sleep deeply when I'm tied up like this I woke a few times in the night in that peculiar half-asleep half-awake stage that feels like dreaming.

I suppose some part of my subconscious is waiting for something to happen, that there is an expectation upon me of readiness because of my bondage. I wait and anticipate, thinking about what it might be like to be woken in the middle of the night to perform a service, to be fucked. It's also a very comforting sensation, to have been prepared for bed, like being tucked in. To be treated with level of care and attention makes me feel very special. So I am both content and in readiness. Submissive sleeping.

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