Tag: The Hypnotist
His Shirt, Part Deux
I’m curled up in bed after he’s left, wearing the heavy lined shirt I gave him for Christmas. He hasn’t worn it yet, so it doesn’t smell like him, but I remember the shape of it on his shoulders when he tried it on, those shoulders that I clutch as…
Pee Stories
I have rules about peeing – I have to ask before doing so. Okay, it’s not actually “just” peeing, although I didn’t realize that until recently. We call it “pee permission,” but that is (apparently) for delicacy’s sake. It’s actually “bathroom permission.” But it’s hard enough to for me to…
Tease
Am I teasing him or is he teasing me? “May I touch myself, Sir?” Having to ask permission to masturbate is new (it used to be only for an orgasm.) l love it/hate it: it embarrasses me to have to announce when I am going to masturbate, and that embarrassment…
Fort Jade
After a week of being ill and mostly bedridden, I got out with the Kinky Hikers the other day. It was more a walk than a hike, not too long or terribly strenuous, but it was heaven to be outside in the brisk December morning, moving my body and enjoying…
A Room for Jade
A long time ago I read a piece of erotica set in a conference room, in which the goings-on were anything but a professional meeting. Coercive rather than consensual, it skirted the edges of CNC. That bit of sexiness has stayed in my mind ever as since, and fueled many…
Homecoming
This morning I sat on the edge of his bed and leaned over as he pulled my face toward him. I rubbed my face against the silky bulge of his cock inside his boxers, having missed this particular ritual while I was gone. Not only this, of course, but I…
A Task and an Assist
The Hypnotist has given me a task to complete each day I am on vacation. Along with my usual requirement to request permission to pee, I have to have two orgasms a day for him, one before noon and one after. I can’t actually recall if it is part of…
Contradictions
I wander through the quiet house this morning, picking up the detritus from last night. An abandoned glass, half-full, clothes on the floor in a heap, a lap blanket, a pair of shoes. My rings and phone and watch. I think about him, going about his morning routine, here, in…
New Rules
We’re playing by his rules now. I have a feeling that means we both win.
The Sea She is a Stern Mistress
Sitting outside on the deck of our AirBnB in Cabo San Lucas, eating a dinner of homemade steak fajitas with sauteed peppers, mushrooms and onions wrapped in fresh, handmade corn tortillas, I realized I needed to get another post in yet this week (actually two). Or, maybe, the D-type man…