Another BDSM fairy tale

Once upon a time a man decided to become a king. So he created a kingdom which he opened to all sorts of minority groups and assorted fringe dwellers. And it was a fair land for those minorities to frolic and play and share experiences and pictures in. He looked out from his tower window and saw that the people were happy and he was happy too. His people loved him and were most grateful for what he had done.

Then of course the trolls across the river spied this land and thought oh we can frolic there and across the river they came. The king looked out of his widow and spied the trolls running amok and upsetting his frolicking citizens and was displeased. Arming his ferocious care bear army with crude weapons he sent them against the trolls. They were unilaterally dispatched... along with a few citizens. But hey... there are always a few civilian casualties in any war... collateral damage and all that...

And so the land was peaceful once more. Oh a few people mourned those who had been lost, but the rest of the citizens went back to frolicking once more and sharing and clicking links and... well... to put it crudely, generating income for the king. That is what citizens are supposed to do after all. And they grew complacent as they frolicked for they had a great king.

Then the king realised to make the next expansion of his kingdom possible he was going to need a more direct method of making money. So he did what any modern king might do... he got into bed with the banks. Of course the banks had stipulations... nothing for nothing after all. Some of those minorities who had been so welcome in the beginning would have to go. They were distasteful and no one wanted them... really.

So before the dolcett diners, the incest indulgers... all make believe of course... the animal lovers and the scat brigade could say WTF they were silenced and banned... along with any mention, however innocent, of children. Now some of the citizens remembered their history...

First they came for the communists,

and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a communist

Then they came for the socialists,

and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a socialist

Then they came for the trade unionists,

and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a trade unionist

Then they came for the Jews.

and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a Jew

Then they came for the Catholics,

and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a Catholic

(Attributed to Pastor Martin Niemöller (1892–1984)) 

And wondered how long before they too were going to be in the firing line. But the rest of the citizens shouted for joy at this moral victory over their corrupt cousins... conveniently forgetting that most of them were breaking some law somewhere too. And besides some of that extra funding had given them more ways to frolic and find like minded folk.

As time went on the citizens grew complacent once more, as you do in a land of plenty. They started to forget about things like being careful with their information and hiding behind their nice safe profiles and they started to frequent other sites using the same pics and form off line relationships... with flesh and blood people.  Of course as things went sour, as they so often do when dealing with people, others used the king's land to out people using all that surplus information... sometimes with good intent and sometimes with malice.

Of course some citizens started to protest upon realising it could happen to any of them. After all they had thought that the rules applied to everyone... and would be upheld. When they realised that was not necessarily the case, particularly if it was done in the name of entertainment, the protests became howls of outrage. The king looked out of his tower window and was displeased. Not only were the cries for justice and fairness disturbing his frolicking, but they were upsetting the other citizens... the ones still busy frolicking and clicking and uploading content that was pleasing to his eyes.

So he shut down the protests in any way he could. He banned people from groups, he used their personal information against them to publicly out them once more in an effort to silence their support. He took away their voice by removing loves on journal entries to reduce their ranking... in favour of often vapid, stolen and plagiarised pictures and writing... oh and things supporting him of course... on the platform of popularity. He dispatched his care bear army, bearing bright and shiny new weapons, to route out the trouble makers and silence them. Protest pictures were removed, writings were removed, take down writs were issued and profiles disappeared in the dead of night...

See it is a sad fact that not all fairy tales end happily ever after

And not all kings stay pure and clean... though to many of their sycophantic followers that doesn't matter as long as there is frolicking and nudity and a place full of people just like them.

Are we tilting at windmills? Oh yes indeed. We will drown under the sheer weight of numbers.

That doesn't make what was done right nor does it make what will come justified

All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.

(Attributed to Edmund Burke)

Looks over the shoulder wondering how long it will be...

Pretties

The other day one mentioned the arrival of new pretties, in spite of a bra buying ban at the moment.

They are very pretty, but all ready starting to become too big L So He has done the gentlemanly thing and promised to ravish one suitably... while wearing them... next week. In fact He was most graphic...

He put that out into the ether...

He was just asking for it...

Bastard!

Tuesday's child is...

Traditionally Tuesday's child is full of grace and thinking about the day, nothing could have been further from the truth. It was one of those days when nothing goes quite according to plan. He woke late, due to the vitally important quest to acquire mercenary armour, and we went to the gym for a run. By the time we got back it was after nine o'clock and we needed to go grocery shopping after breakfast. In reality it was nearly two by the time we made it out the door. Not sure where the time went exactly, but some of it was spent curled up on a couch in pain due to the stomach going no, quite firmly, to a snack. It would seem it doesn't like the goji berries in a protein bar after exercise L

It was heading towards six by the time we got back home... now some of that time can be accounted for. None of it was terribly graceful though... anyone who has ever got out of jean to try on skinny jeans can attest to that. There is a lot of wriggling in very confined spaces... and one of the sides of the space is a curtain that leads to an outside world. Needles to say the process involves trying to keep the arse as far away from that as the contorting is going on. Add boots to that picture... yeah not graceful L

We arrived home to an announcement from His little school chum that he has finished the food prep and what time do we want him to come over and cook? We were under the impression... and frankly so were the other messages back and forth to the friend yesterday... that we were meant to be going there for dinner. We surveyed the schmozzle of grocery shopping, bags and breakfast dishes scattered across the kitchen bench and said oh 6.30-7? Which as anyone knows is code for closer to 7 and would give us time to run around and clean up. His friend arrived on the dot of 6.30... to find one naked and in the middle of dishes. The scuttling that his arrival caused was definitely not graceful... by any standard L

So yes... Tuesday... not a lot of grace going on at all J

Deviant dining

For those who are curious about what we are eating to lose so much weight (32 kgs for Him and 15 for one small slave) since September, there is a new tab at the top of the page. It has a sample menu so you can get an idea of what's for dinner down the hole J

There is no strenuous exercise needed... in fact in the beginning we were only walking 1/2 an hour a day due to injury (in one case) and disinclination in the other. There is no prize for guessing which one was which K

Why is it...

It has always been a great shame that when women athletes need funding they invariably have to play their sport in skimpy clothing or be oiled up and photographed in ways that best show their assets... er... muscles... for some calendar. Historically it has always been claimed that women's sport just doesn't rate very well and subsequently advertising isn't attracted as easily as it is for men's. It is a sad fact that sex sells... almost anything

So armed with that bit of knowledge some women on Fet have taken a rather tongue in cheek approach to draw attention to Fets rather woeful application of their own TOU. We are of course talking about all those breasts with the messages to the illustrious leader of Fet... the one who has plenty of time to go round loving people's pics, while others ran around outing peoples private details. See it is a sad fact that to get attention on Fet you need to be naked... or at least promising a taste of it. Oh hell who are we kidding, to get noticed on Fet you need to be buck naked and look hot, but one digresses... as always.

For those of you who do not haunt Fet the TOU is quite simple on certain points...

You agree that, while using their Products and Services, you will not:

 Post, directly or indirectly, any personally identifying information about another member without their consent. Personally identifying information can include, but is not limited to, a person's full name, first name, last name, email address, profession, phone number, address and place of work.

Now of course someone has... a couple of times this week... to a roar of dissent from the users who were under the misapprehension that the site would actually uphold its own TOU. To be specific the bit that threatens termination at their discretion should you fail to uphold your part of the bargain. Of course those disgruntled users found out that is not the case...

Oh there are a myriad of reasons...

Well if we kick them they will just come back

We took it down... it was only up about 24 hours

People deserve a second chance

We are run by volunteers

The dog ate my homework

All charming and reasonable excuses...

Except to the people who had their private details outed 'cos let's be honest, the net is forever and it was up a lifetime or close enough to it.

It does however raise an interesting point...

If you want to out someone you will probably have 24 hours to do it in and you will be forgiven... quietly hums Kumbaya

Why is it that your privacy is not being upheld you may be wondering? Well at the risk of sounding somewhat cynical the TOU was written to protect Fet's arse... not yours... and it is discretionary in nature. They might have the power to correct wrongs, but they don't have to use it.

But rejoice... if you have naked tits your pleas for help might be heard... or at least get to K&P while you wait J

Snippets from down the hole

As we exited the shower... where He had taken advantage of one small slave and brutally sodomised her... our conversation turned to other things...

On our travels one will need to pick up more conditioner. It turns out the two bottles in the laundry cupboard... which one will admit is like a pantry for cleaning products that might run out... are shampoo. The bottle is down to skank ends.

Oh I just had one of those He quipped

The man does not show appropriate appreciation of one's gift of submission slavery... at all K

The good thing

One of the surprising outcomes of this diet is being able to fit back into boots. Oh not all of them... the downside of high arches is that you often have bigger ankles and the foot just won't flex into a boot.... which, thinking about it, may be just as well for the bank account. It has however, meant that one can almost get back into these thigh high boots...

We took this quick shot the other day. It was then, as we were leaving the garage, that one made another discovery. When unexpectedly bent over the car bonnet and fucked rudely and without warning, these boots make one small slave the perfect height...

 His knee forced between one's thighs, prising them apart, as his hand pressed down between the shoulder blades to stop one getting up. As one was pinned there He pulled down his shorts took and out his hard on with his other hand. Then He forced his way between resistant lips and roughly fucked one small slave.

Whispers mental note to self; bear this in mind for the future... it could be very dangerous wearing these boots and not just for the heels on slippery floor issues.

Well that and His insistence that they are meant to be paired with short shorts... whispers think the teenage prostitute look here people... that can't be a safe choice either L

Fear as a deterrent

There is an interesting thread in the group at the moment about fear and its place in our relationships. Now some do not think fear is a healthy thing, but like some of the other respondents one thinks that there is a difference between fear and living in fear. Having lived with someone who caused one to live in fear, one can say they sure don't feel the same at all.

In this relationship though one has a very healthy fear of Him and what he can do. Without it one would have no brakes... He would be run over with lightning speed. Ask any of the ex's, they can attest to one's... casual disregard for their boundaries. He always smirks and says fear breeds respect... usually when one has pulled up short of his toes.

He stands there watching the look on one's face, as the war to commit atrocities upon his personage vies with the desire to stay intact rages there... and knows that fear is what holds one back from the worst excesses. It is the same look on His face that a farmer gets when he knows his fences will hold true. Sort of a grim satisfaction...

Bastard! 

All over

On the last day of holidays... more of a sad refrain than a song... the twoo love moped with me...

It is always a sad thing when holidays come to an end. It's made all the worse by the fact that you have got used to not working. Every once in a while one meets someone who makes statements like oh I don't want to retire or work keeps me busy. Personally one always thinks there is something wrong with that person, that or they are completely devoid of any imagination.

Hell we could be together every moment of every day and still feel like we were short changed somewhere. Work is this horrible necessary evil that keeps us apart. And frankly if we could find a way to support our not attending work we would in a heartbeat. Unfortunately His family are not rich. Sighs which may be just as well for their continued health and wellbeing... 'cos gods know there is the odd time when we could kill them quite cheerfully.

So we did what we could to support each other through the last hours of our holidays. That is to say we had sex... some of it was even voluntary. There was the incident over the bonnet of the car that wasn't quite so voluntary, but we will return to that at a later date.  Oh and the incident in the shower. Well that one was more a... sort of an end to summer thing. Soon it will be too cold to have the door reefed open and to be pressed up against the icy tiles. Mutters well for one of us... the other one might need more convincing -.-

The arse fucking followed by an early afternoon snooze was completely voluntary though... for both of us. Of course that one was also medicinal in nature because He had to go to sleep, ready for night shift. And to be honest one feels for Him... it's going to suck monkey balls to have to front up to work at midnight. In fact one is reflecting on how much that sucks as one sits here sipping coffee, contemplating the holidays and where it all went.

See the other sad thing about holidays is all the things that were intended to be done and weren't. In fact there was a bucket list of things to do this holiday and looking at the list, one can see why they weren't ranked high priority 'cos they included sucky things like...

Clean out the kitchen cupboards

Clean the leather lounge

Go through the two file boxes of paperwork and assorted odds and ends

Do the enormous pile of filing that is starting to slide off the in trays

The equine speculum

Oh well, there is always next holidays J

Caring gets sacrificed on the altar of sexy

On the sixteenth day of holidays... sung in a girlish tone... the twoo love aroused me...

We were chatting over a Sumo Salad... you know one still isn't quite sure when He was replaced by a changeling who enjoys their salads, but given that he believes green is Mother Nature's way of warning us that food is not fit to eat, it is the only logical explanation for this fondness for their product... and the conversation had drifted to the topic of button fly jeans. Well more how inconvenient they are when you are a man who needs to pee.

He then launched into this long explanation involving undoing buttons and semi arousal and big penises... Honestly, one might have lost track of the context a little due to the dancing visions those key words produced. Smiling at Him sweetly one pointed out it was the price you pay for looking sexy. With sexy goes a certain level of discomfort...

You know in hindsight one must claim a certain culpability for what transpired next, but in one's defence the mind was elsewhere...

So we can expect to see you in high heels with your mini can we He said, batting those blue eyes innocently

Those high heels are something of a death trap on the highly polished faux marble floors of this shopping centre... we had nipped out for two t-shirts that had been outgrown since they were bought three weeks ago, which is why we were nibbling on salads... one pointed out patiently. Now if you were the kind of person who walked next to their partner, ready to offer assistance should they stumble and fall, it would be a different story. In fact if one was the kind of person to cling to their partner's arm as we walked along it would be a different story as well. But we are not that couple. You stalk off on those long legs like a Great Dane to one's Chihuahua. A Chihuahua who is loaded up with your shopping bags more often than not and left to scamper along at best possible speed.

Looking mildly dissatisfied with the answer He sat there mulling over ideas. He is nothing if not solutions focused. Smiling sweetly He said well we could attach a rope from the collar to the Njoy and make a handle. Then I could keep a firm grasp on you...

Glaring at Him over a forkful of salad one pointed out that his idea failed several key points of the ethic of care. Not to mention that it was hardly a sexy solution.

Oh I don't know He said. I think it will look quite sexy from where I'll be...

Sighs honestly He is impossible to deal with some days L

The bliss of being ignored

On the fifteenth day of holiday... sounding relieved... the twoo love neglected me...

Today was lovely; grey and wet... actually often gusting torrential rain. And it was spent curled up next to Him, safe and sound. It was all very freeing. In fact one managed to slip in a long afternoon snooze in between meals and snacks.

Now some of the regular readers are probably wondering if one had killed Him in his sleep, but nothing could be further from the truth...

He has a new game... and for a change it wasn't shoving things in my slave's arse.

That's right folks... one small slave spent the day once again as a gaming widow. Beams happily. Yes that is somewhat of a change of attitude since the Skyrim incident, but yesterday did sort of put things in perspective...

And gods know the arse is happy too...

Beams some more...

Does a little happy dance

And suddenly realises this is probably just going to provoke Him when he reads this...

Shine a little light

On the fourteenth day of holidays... more of a whimper than a song... the twoo love sodomised me...

The day got off to a very rocky start due to that migraine. In fact it was nearly lunch time when one emerged for the second time... well one had made breakfast and then headed back to bed... shaky and weak as a kitten, to make lunch. Slowly as the room righted itself, thanks to food and a shower, and the colour returned, His attentions turned less solicitous and more lecherous...

That was how one was hustled back to the bedroom for some rough anal sex

Before...

During...

... and afterwards

The man does believe in the idea that you use it or lose it...

Of course sometimes it would be nice if He used someone else's...

Um?

Hello?

Anyone?

Anyone at all?

Just our luck

On the thirteenth day of holidays... sounding mildly pissed off... the twoo love... er... we will get back to Him

We both woke late... very late indeed. In fact the morning had almost ended. And we were both feeling none the refreshed for the lateness of the hour, might one add. If anything we looked a little rugged around the edges.

So being not fit company one pulled apart the wardrobes to make room for the new clothes and ruthlessly cull things that didn't fit. There is nothing quite so satisfying as tossing things out of a wardrobe because they are too big... except maybe tossing things out of His wardrobe. In fact one even went through things like stockings... only to find the bastards have changed the tops of one's favourite opaques and now they no longer stay up. Fuckers!

You know as an aside there has been a small complication to the skirts being hiked up. Stocking have to be switched out in favour of pantyhose... something He is less than fond of. Should have thought about that shouldn't He J

Confronted with such surliness He sent one to bed. For a nap! Like a small, truculent child one was packed off for a sleep to restore the humours. Actually what He said was...

Then we can do something fun like tie you up and I can have my wicked way with you

Sitting there one stared at Him, looking rather like a rabbit in headlights. Dear gods He said that out loud. It was just asking for it inviting grief...

And sure enough one woke up feeling not only blah, but with the beginnings of a migraine. He cursed us L

A lot about nothing

On the twelfth day of holidays... somewhat more hesitant in tone... the twoo love... actually He was fairly blameless...

It was one of those sorts of days... completely uneventful. Even the weather was sort of nothing special, being grey and not too hot. We went out for groceries and pottered around and took too much time achieving nothing in particular... though one did manage to find some glue to fix an old leather jacket that has sat in the wardrobe long enough to become not only vintage, but fashionable again. Still cannot work out how it managed to hang around in the wardrobe of a ruthless annual culler. It was probably because it has lived in His mother's wardrobe for the past fifteen years.  

A rather spectacular lingerie set arrived via post...

You know as an aside the most expensive thing about this weight loss has been replacing bras. There is a bag of them waiting to go to good will, many of them still with tags. Some of them we managed to find in smaller sizes, but many of them are parts of sets that no longer fit.

... in spite of one saying no new underwear until the weight stabilises. It is very pretty though... flutters with pleasure J

We went to our vanillas for coffee. They are well having both lost about nine kilos each... her mother is now on the diet, his mother is on the diet and now IBS free, his brother has lost 13 kilos and is thrilled, his sister has just started it and one of her brothers wants to try it. Honestly He is like a disease vector... though unlike the common cold people seem to be happy to be infected by Him. The evening ended up very late and we crawled home... in fact one of us ended up asleep before He even got to bed...

As one said it was all very eventful... and nothing special J

Bless British Post

On the eleventh day of holidays... sung with far more joy... the twoo love gave to me...

Today was Valentine's Day, a time that is traditionally devoted to the giving of gifts and flowers and chocolates and cards. A small bit of trivia, for those who are so inclined, we often joke here that Hallmark invented the whole Valentine's Day thing, but that isn't true. What they did was capitalise on it... rather aggressively. The day was celebrated long before they took hold of it. Anyway back to us...

We don't really do Valentine's Day, but we do have little traditions. He always gives one some sort of a sex toy. That was suspended this year due to budgetary constraints. Now personally one didn't care either way. He on the other hand was somewhat mortified at his fiscal lapses. The silly thing is that having Him dress stylishly is the greatest gift.

Usually when we go out we look a bit like the odd couple. One of us is well dressed in well cut conservative clothes while the other one of us looks like a geeky adolescent. A state only added to by His proclivity for superhero t-shirts and Converse sneakers. The upshot of all this spending is that He now looks like an adult... one with button fly jeans J

So we spent the day out and about only to end up abominably late for dinner. That was how we found ourselves at a local chicken joint... one noted for its rather red decor. You know He said, you always take me to the best places for dinner on this special day. I feel so underdressed...

You would think the man would have been a little more grateful that He was getting fed... considering the circumstances.

Hey the decor is in keeping with the day one replied, ignoring His barbs

You're right He said, not looking the least bit contrite. And don't worry I will put out in exchange for this nice dinner.

Of course that was before we faced the two and a half hour drive home... He wasn't quite so chipper after that. However Valentine did produce one last miracle and saved His arse...

This arrived courtesy of British Post...

It was even an appropriate colour J

Screw the whales

On the tenth day of holidays... sung in a clear, piping whine... the twoo love rescued me...

The day was spent sitting through the latest fad diet...

Which one will admit is yummy and His mother is about to become a human guineapig for. She has failed every diet on the market, often more than once, so she is an ideal candidate to try these products out on. Not only does she have a great deal of enthusiasm and a willingness to try anything new, but she believes that it is always the diets fault when she cheats. If anyone can find the flaw in this system it will be her.

... and assorted vitamin companies... who were very generous with their products. In fact one has enough samples of multivitamins to last about six months and about three generations. Human trials are about to be conducted... Peers at His family thoughtfully... we need a child...

It was with great pleasure that one saw Him driving his white car up the hill to pluck one, and an obscene amount of goody bags, from the rather grand steps. While one will never confuse Him with a white knight, he came rather close at that point. The body was fed up with sitting in a chair for two days. It was also fed up with being fed a steady diet of sugary treats by both the complex and the reps.

For some reason food treats seemed to be the weapon inducement of choice... a rather unusual decision during a wellness seminar... though the rest of the table was delighted to be sitting with a non chocolate eater. They happily fell upon one's share like a pack of ravening wolves... and payed the price with sugar crashes about mid afternoon. Mind you the trade off of all that mental acuity was an understanding how much pain one was actually in L

Mutters honestly by the end both the back and the arse needed CPR.... hmm might be time to try one of those natural pain pills...

A state of wellness

On the ninth day of holidays... more of a dirge than a song... the twoo love dumped me...

Like an unwanted puppy one was deposited on the steps of one of the more prestigious recreational clubs to attend a wellness seminar for work.  Honestly it's like the company searches out public transport routes and then books somewhere as far away from them as possible. There was an hour and a half of slogging across town through peak hour traffic to get there. It was in the leafy heartland of butt fuck nowhere... with charming glimpses of the city. The vistas, promising civilization and shops, peeked out from behind the trees like a small child poking its tongue out L

On the bright side there was food... most of which shouldn't have been eaten by anyone over the age of sixteen... the last time the human animal can metabolise that many assorted sugars without dire consequences. And there were speakers... lots of speakers. All of them touting their wares loudly and proudly...

Though as an aside it really helps if the speaker before you hasn't trounced your product and called into disrepute your scientific research... and your key ingredient. Bet those two were playing no speakies at their table after that...

There were goody bags though... unfortunately some of it was provided by that aforementioned company... er... the... peers around furtively and whispers, the not very good one.

Oh well one more day to go and one can get back to important slave duties... like getting fucked in the arse by Him... preferably before the feeling comes back to it after sitting on the damn thing for two days straight.

Delivery

On the eighth day of holidays... sung full of hope and expectations... the twoo love promised me...

It is a sad thing to admit that the only sex we have managed to achieve successfully in the past couple of days is Him getting off. Oh one has been on a promise, but between the heat and the self inflicted pain from the gym one small slave has been passed out within minutes of touching the pillow... right after servicing His needs. Now one might have registered a small protest... well more a query as to why one has to see to His sexual proclivities when really all one wants to do is sleep. To which He replied as quick as a wink that it was in our contract.

Um... what contract?

The one you signed in the beginning He replied

Um... don't remember doing that

Well you did He said in a firm tone

Racking the brains one couldn't remember it... though fuzzy with sleep it was hard to be sure

Are you sure?

Yes, it was right at the beginning

All of a sudden that small part of the brain that deals almost exclusively in self preservation living with Him snapped awake...

You are gaslighting one small sleep deprived slave

There was silence...

Followed by an "if you say so"... delivered in the most placating tone ever

You know what? Tonight we are going to bed... early, pain free and raring to go... to call in that promise 'cos honestly, it is better to keep Him well entertained. Otherwise He starts to entertain himself... and he doesn't do it like a normal person L

Emulating our simian cousins

On the seventh day of holidays... same ditty, less good humour... the twoo love amused... well, mostly Himself

As one has mentioned in the past He is tall... about 6' and thanks to the diet, developing rather long limbs. Well it's more that with the fat being stripped off the muscle that you notice that they are long. It's a bit like how He looks taller now that he weighs less. Perception is a fascinating thing sometimes and how the eye tells little fibs is interesting to say the least, but that is something for another time. This is about how like many with long limbs He has toes that match... they are long and as one discovered sitting on the couch, rather prehensile.

We were sitting on the couch watching Grimm... well more catching up with the season... when all of a sudden there is a searing pain in the nipple. He was laying there like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth and apparently unmoved from his supine position. It took one a minute to work out what He had done. He had reached out with those toes and pinched the nipple in the same vice like grip that his fingers produce

You know it was bad enough that one always had to keep a wary eye out for those fingers... and hands... and teeth, but now it's the toes as well?

Mutters one small slave demands sanctuary... now if someone could just direct one to the appropriate place? 

On why cars are unsafe vehicles

On the sixth day of holidays... sung with less whine and more surprise... the twoo love reprogrammed me...

We are driving along, one of uncomfortably shoved in a denim belt with a zip mini and one of us looking smug. There are no prizes for guessing which was which by the way, so don't ask. His hand reaches out to caress the inner, and very exposed, thigh and he murmurs I do like this skirt on you. Those long fingers of His explore above the hem line, sliding between naked lips, as he caresses back and forth, round and round...

And it was feeling oh so good... so very, very good

Suddenly the brain engages and one realises what He is doing. Exclaiming stop that, one snatches back the traitorous body part from His grasp, while endeavouring to pull that useless bit of fabric further down. So awake up to what you are doing. You're trying to make good associations with this skirt and are using sex to do it. You know, one of us is on to your Jedi mind tricks.

But it doesn't make it any less effective He says, smirking.

His hand slides back to where it had been and it wasn't on the bloody gear stick where it was meant to be L

Marathon man

On the fifth day of holidays... yes that song again and the tone is slightly exasperated too... the twoo love surprised me...

The day started with His mother's date loaf. Actually it didn't come to think of it... that wouldn't have been so bad. No, the day started with us... one of us who had barely had time to imbibe morning mouse... on side by side treadmills running at the gym. He joked that we should start training for the next half marathon, to which one tartly pointed out that we were not that couple. He coughed and gently pointed out that we were running at 7 am... we were that couple L

It was after that horrible incident, which the mind had obviously tried to block out, that one found oneself in His mother's kitchen. She is a good but often forgetful cook, which is why the date loaf didn't have the walnuts in it... shame as it wasn't as good, but one does digress. It was as one was slicing off a generous hunk that she casually mentioned that it was His father's birthday. Looking at her with tell tale crumbs on the whiskers... well someone had to do quality control... one asked does He know. Well I did tell him she replied. Sighs she told the wrong person as one did point out to her.

So there we were, forced to go out once more to find some shirts for His father. It took us deep into dangerous territory... clothes shops. I just want to nip in here He said... and he was off on the continued hunt for colour denim. And there one was tottering behind in high heels... the high heels that had been worn because it was supposed to be a quick trip... not a marathon run. But He did find what he was after and a very hot jacket, which he didn't need and wasn't looking for, that was just perfect. You know He has become something of a clothes whore horse of late... strange how those two words sound so similar.

When we staggered home, a mere four hours later, one small slave was confronted with the dilemma of how to squish five new pairs of jeans...

You know when we met 16 odd years ago He was something of a minimalist in the clothes department. He owned a few t-shirts, a jacket, two pairs of black jeans, a pair of Docs and a pair of Converse. He had no interest in clothes... sighs they were simpler times

... into increasingly diminished space. The whole thing was traumatic, so on sore and swollen feet one retreated to a safe not very safe place for a restorative nap to guard the pillows...

It didn't last...

Plans and mice both go kablooie

On the fourth day of holidays... same refrain, more whine... the twoo love jinxed me...

The day was crappy to look at and pretty indicative of how one felt generally. He looked equally miserable. Gently enquiring into His well being, one asked if he was OK

Oh yeah, but I had plans for you...

Suddenly it all made sense...

This was all His fault -.-

Feeling hot, hot, hot

On the third day of holidays... same song, very different tune... the twoo love teeeased me...

This whole weight loss thing, apart from being hellishly expensive what with having to replace clothes every few weeks, has had some other unexpected bonuses. As His shirts have got smaller the sleeves have got shorter and in doing so have started to reveal tan lines in all the wrong places. In an endeavour to blur them out a little He has taken to doing a bit of work around the pool.

He's out there right now... topless in button fly jeans J

You know one small slave has never really understood the whole dress up in costumes and play make believe thing before...

It was just the wrong person being shoved into the costume...

And the wrong game...

Scampers off to get the pool boy Him a cold drink J

Run for the hills

On the second day of holidays... same tune, more strident... the twoo love tortured me...

First the sneaky slamming of the door, as He slipped off to the gym with all the grace of a bull elephant, woke one and then the return visit repeated the process. Giving up one stumbled out... just full of the joys of holidays... to suck back morning mouse as He chirped merrily in one's direction. You know there was a time in our relationship when He was the late riser... it was much... quieter. Peering at Him over the rim one might have thought it couldn't get any worse. As it turned out one small slave was wrong...

We live in a hot humid climate, a climate that at this time of the year is hostile to everything but the insects. In an endeavour to equalise the balance of power to a tolerable level we have to bomb the house. For the record it is very hard to coordinate a two family evacuation of a home, particularly when one is disabled. As luck would have it today proved to be the day that the stars aligned and His mother seizing the opportunity, distributed bombs between our homes and fled... leaving behind her husband for us to dispatch to respite and in charge of insect genocide... at least we think that is was what she had in mind.

As an aside it was quite a humorous sight watching Him zigzag along the combined length of the houses as poisonous gas erupted behind him J

It left us no choice but to head out for a little retail therapy. A couple of hours, a list and a budget... what could go wrong? As it turned out, quite a bit. We hit the shopping area when it was in the middle of massive end of sales reductions.  Six hours later we staggered to the car having gone broke saving money. Honestly we have never seen prices like it and with a bit of luck our wallets never will again.

The whole thing has left us with some very hot clothes and no choice but to remain shut-ins for the rest of the week. We will be forced to create our own entertainment...

No good is going to come of this...

But for tonight one small slave is safe... He has passed out from excitement exhaustion J

Crackdown

On the first day of holidays... warbled slightly off key to the tune of The Twelve Days of Christmas... the twoo love gave to me...

A three am wakeup call... the kind that involves being roughly hauled onto knees and being used as a place to deposit sperm. Now to the untrained eye it would look like He needed help going back to sleep when his body clock was out of whack. That would be a rooky mistake. In reality it was a softening up approach... lack of sleep makes one a bit scatty and forgetful... before He moved to the real objective...

When one stumbled out in search of morning mouse He reinitiated the rule about having to ask permission to go to the toilet. Sighs nothing seems to give Him more pleasure than watching one squirm around while he thinks about it. At least that is what He pretends to do. To be honest one suspects what He is really doing is thinking up small, demeaning ways to make one pay for the privilege.

And in case you are wondering why it helps if one is scatty and forgetful? He will punish any little infractions. Like forgetfulness. It's His idea of holiday entertainment L

Oh yes and He gave one an actual present. For once it was the kind of gift that you can open in front of other people. It was a leather belt with a zip mini skirt... to make some of those little acts easier... for Him to watch.

Yeah, have to say that Him taking an interest in the wardrobe is right up there with showing up on the Master radar in general... no good ever comes of it L

If wishes were like horses

We were chatting over breakfast about yesterday's blog post. It was one of those funny conversations that we have sometime... the kind that make you wish you had a piece of paper... or the notebook that is usually in the bag just in case. Sighs why is it that clean outs always coincide with needing that very item that doesn't make the cut? Anyway the conversation had turned from the merit of dressing like a teenage prostitute sexily...

That conversation had deviated over territory that had included, but was not limited to, the fact that the most popular hookers are usually young. His logic was that men like young women because they dress sexily while one argued it wasn't that at all... men just like young flesh.

... to the rather revolutionary idea that how He preferred one to dress was how he saw one small slave... and how he saw one was all that mattered.

Sort of like the idea that if we were created in Gods likeness and image we can never be less than perfect one quipped...

See one did stay awake for some of the religious indoctrination lessons that mother shoved one into. That was the only bit of Christian Science that really stuck... mainly because it was at complete odds with aunties rather staunch C of E views... er... the ones that heavily imply that man is going to struggle to make the grade, probably fail and then be redeemed through some complicated process involving death and the church. The idea of missing out all the dull stuff had infinite appeal to a child. All one had to do was accept the idea of perfection and well... medical science was no longer a necessity. But one does digress... as always.

All one has to do is accept your view and... There was some uncomfortable wriggling on the seat... 'cos there was no way one was going to take that path to its logical conclusion

Yes, that would make you a good slave, He said with a small triumphant smile

Yeah not much chance of that is there... See you have to keep lowering their expectations

Oh it's like the behaviourist theory He said airily ... you act like you aren't depressed until you aren't

Sort of fake it until you make it?

Yes He agreed, you act like a good slave until you are one

Yeah, but one does wish that being a good slave didn't involve dressing like a teenage prostitute sexily

If wishes were horses He quipped

Well one does want a pony (which for clarity stems from an RPG game... one didn't get the pony 'cos the others would most likely serve it for dinner -.-)

You can have the bridle

Wanna pony

You can have a saddle

Still wanna pony

You can have the crop

Peering at Him with growing mistrust one pointed out that none of this actually involved getting a pony... more being the pony

Well we do have the equine speculum He added, almost as an afterthought

Wanna shut up now

Bastard!

At what point?

She hopped on the bus... no mean feat in the high heels let alone at her age... immaculately turned out. From the top of her beret...

That was an odd choice thinking about it, considering that it is the middle of summer. In fact the sky was so clear and such a bright blue that the only blemish in the miles of visual perfection was the moon, still clearly visible. Still it did suit the ensemble.

... to the tip of those high heels she sported a bold fashion statement. What caught one's attention though were the leggings. To be honest one has never seen someone her age (probably late 60's) wearing them with high heels and a short top and it did make one wonder; at what age should a woman stop wearing leggings?

Don't get one wrong she was in fabulous shape, probably an ex dancer at a guess and probably still exercising, and she could put an ensemble together. But it did make one wonder is there is a time when a woman should stop wearing such revealing clothes... and when is it? And who decides these things? Peers around furtively and whispers 'cos round here it seems to be Him and that being the case then one small slave has cause for concern L

Now it is no secret that one believes that at some point one will be too old to have a blog that sports quite so much nudity. He has always laughed and said never... actually he suggested holographic images... shudders quietly. And that conversation left one still undecided if it is really granny porn if the star has never actually given birth... but one digresses... 'cos this is all about clothes.

Growing up the worst sin you could commit... other than mixing prints and florals of course... was looking like mutton dressed up as lamb. It was one of those things that caused a flurry of disapproval faster than a fox can go through a hen house. It left an indelible print on the psyche in spite of growing to realise that Anne Summers was right... women are the enforcers of social morality. That phrase might have been (allegedly) coined by a man, but it went on to be the battle cry of women... and used against other women.

All that knowledge doesn't stop one from leaning towards well cut clothes that are somewhat conservative in their taste and age appropriate. This preference seems to clash awkwardly with His taste in clothing, which seems to run in the direction of teenage hooker. Looking at the woman one couldn't help but feel that one small slave was having a looking glass moment... quite literally in this case... into the future.

It was all very disturbing indeed... 

More things

There are lots of things one doesn't understand... and probably never will... and Fet is often the wellspring of that lack of comprehension. All over Fet there are discussions about polyamorous relationships and it is only a matter of minutes before someone pipes up to say oh that isn't for me. And they are usually quite vehement in their statements, not to mention dismissive of the possibility. To be honest one never quite understands why they are so adamant... considering they have never tried it.

Oh one gets that you don't have to try something to know that you won't like it. The thing is though we are often wrong in those initial judgements and we are capable of change. Hell how many of us hated certain vegetables as a child only to embrace them later on as adults. No, the thing that one doesn't understand is why we aren't open to giving it a go. Somewhere along the line one suspects it is because we have all these little bits of social programming.

Unlike vegetables which we know are good for us... deep down we know it even if they do taste funky... sexual relationships aren't something we regard like that at all. We are taught that sex is supposed to be with someone we care deeply about; we are supposed to wait for that special someone because somewhere out there is our soul mate. The thing is though all over the net there are those waiting... often with dogged determination... to find their perfect mate. When in reality it is more that there is someone who is perfect for right now 'cos let's be honest, some of the best lessons we learn are from those who wander through our lives rather than make camp.

That's not to say everyone should wiz out and try a poly relationship. Hell, there are plenty of people who barely have the relationship skills to maintain the relationship they have, without adding someone else.  No this is more a musing on why we don't stay open to the possibilities. After all that was how we tried broccoli and squid and seaweed and snails and offal and...