I took The Photographer out on Saturday for a much-promised "official" public topping and it was really rather good. I felt cool, calm, confident and horny as hell. I had a moment of realisation that this was something I actively looked forward to and really enjoyed doing. Not that I hadn't done before (we have a strict rule of only doing things that keep us both entertained) but previously there were nerves and also an element of wanting the roles to be reversed.
As usual, I'd done a fair amount of planning up to and including picking his outfit (long skirt and mesh top which was removed almost as soon as we arrived). Torture Garden was absolutely rammed, and we took refuge in the Dungeon after sharing a few drinks with Not Blond and his friends. Once we were by ourselves I put him on his knees and into collar and cuffs along with a newly acquired metal link lead which was more heavy duty, and hence better, than our previous rope one. He looked good. He looked better on all fours as a foot rest whilst I watched the room and considered activities. I particularly enjoyed chatting with a military garbed gent to my left, encouraging him to put his feet up if he wanted, and the parting firm pat on The Photographer's back (just like you'd give to a dog) when he left.
I found a St Andrew's cross and chained my boy to it, gagging and blindfolding him for that extra touch of security. I clocked the stunning Hedwig across the way, and together we set to making him squirm as best we could, using pinwheels, a storming little vibe of hers and other objects of delight. Later on, I also had the pleasure of watching Switching Sides touch and torment him for a moment or two. I think in certain circumstances I am learning the value of sharing.
For me, however, the best part of the night was how he behaved. Surrounded by the wannabe cow-eyed boy submissives (and there are a fair few at TG) who are more out for an easy fuck than to actually participate in a scene; their passive-aggressive stance irritating any woman they could see. I did see one young buck oh-so-casually drape his arm around Hedwig whilst addressing her as "Mistress" and then smile as she dealt with him in her own, unique style: "Actually it's 'Sir', and get on your knees."
I have no problem with someone wanting sex. At all. The issue I have is with them lying or pissing about to get it. Fake plastic submissives; looking good until they move or speak. The genuine ones, like the one that knelt quietly in front of me, managing beautifully bravely with the quantity of chain looped through his piercings, show up the counterfeits. The real deal. I felt truly proud of him, smugly satisfied. Happy to reward him when we got home by letting him lick my clit until I came.
Inescapable extended captivity in rope bondage
2 weeks ago