Actually, I've been saying nothing on this blog for several months now. Several readers have expressed concern that something is wrong, or that something bad might have happened to me or my sub husband Karl. I assure you that is not the case at all. I simply ran out of things to talk (write) about.
I've spent the last few years writing this blog and exploring many concepts and many events that have taken place in my life. The response from readers and fellow bloggers has been wonderful, and the comments have been interesting and often informative. Lately, however, I began to feel that I'd covered every concept I wanted to cover, and the lack of inspiration in that area forced me to ask myself whether I wanted to continue with a monthly (or so) roundup of events that were taking place in my life. That was never the intention of this blog from its inception, and it's not what I care to do on a regular basis. Thus my silence.
Strangely, many other Femdom bloggers have been missing in action as well for the past few months. Queen Goddess, Ms. Marie, and Mistress M from Forever Hers have stopped posting. Mistress Misty's blog site seems to have been forcibly removed for some unknown reason. Whether these worthy ladies have stopped writing for the same reason(s) as I have.....well, I really can't say. All I know is that I have no desire to submit postings just to titillate male sub readers, which is what I fear would happen if I did a week-to-week or month-to-month update of current happenings. I have no problem if titillation occurs when I'm writing conceptually, but there are plenty of bloggers providing that weekly or even daily turn-on for male subs out there, and it's not what I had in mind when I started this blog.
So, until I'm inspired to write about concepts that I haven't yet covered, my blog postings will undoubtedly remain few and far between. I'd be happy to entertain ideas about potential topics, and if I felt that I had something unique to offer, I'd gladly post on said topic(s). Until then, I'll once again thank all the readers who have taken time to follow and comment upon my blog.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Thursday, March 15, 2012
ORCHESTRATING
This is a continuation of my last posting - TRUTH - AND CONSEQUENCES - and deals with how I orchestrated the break-up of my husband Karl and his friend Bill. I received many comments about the situation that led to this, and several responded to my invitation to guess what actually happened to complete the break-up.
Before I get into that, I must add that several commenters questioned whether I should have taken this to the extremes that I did. In particular, I was taken to task a bit for not finding ways to confront the problem of my husband Karl and his friend Bill - and their big mouths - without breaking up a friendship with another couple. I appreciate the points of view expressed, but I remain firm in my conviction that the only way to be truly certain that this exchange of information between Karl and Bill about the lifestyle that Karl and I share was nipped in the bud was to assure a clean break between the two of them. Since that would most likely end the friendship of Barb (Bill's wife) and myself as well, I just take it as another unavoidable problem of maintaining the privacy of Karl and me and the D/s lifestyle we have. In reality, "friendships" is a misnomer for these relationships. They're more acquaintanceships than friendships, so giving one up is not quite as drastic as it seems.
Over the years, I've found it difficult to really have a meaningful relationship with any couples that have a vanilla lifestyle. Since I'm lucky enough to have a group of Femdom friends to share things with, I really find that I don't need acquaintanceships with ladies with whom I can't share the most basic aspects of who I am. After all, what good is a "friend" if a big part of yourself can't be revealed to her? As to "couples" acquaintanceships, I really do that for Karl, who has business connections that make it hard to avoid couples get-togethers.
Now, on to the break-up. The closest guess as to what actually happened was written by a commenter named "Downlow" who wrote:
"I'm guessing that you called Barb and told her that Karl told you that Bill had said they're sex life was boring, and that Bill had wanted a spanking.
Barb would yell at Bill, and Bill would get mad at Karl and break off the relationship.
Is that close?"
Yes, it's close, but not as simple as that. I did call Barb the morning after I whipped Karl (he was still in the cage and listening to my end of the conversation), and I did tell her that I had questioned Karl, and pressed for more details about what he and Bill had said to each other (and that was no lie). I said that Karl told me that Bill had taken one of Karl's statements out of context and jumped in with stories about his sex life with Barb (that was part truth, part lie). In particular, Bill said his sex life wasn't very exciting and he wanted his wife to spank him or do other things, but that she wasn't adventurous enough to try something new or somewhat kinky (that was no lie). I said that Karl said that Bill kept bugging him for more details about what he mistakenly thought Karl and I were doing, but Karl just kept saying he didn't want to talk about it, and just kept trying to change the subject (not really a lie, but somewhat exaggerated). I said that Karl felt shocked when Bill started hinting around about our "unusual" sex life at dinner, and he gave Bill a warning look not to keep on in that vein, knowing that I'd be furious if I thought Karl had made up something completely ridiculous about our sexual habits (half truth, half lie). And I finished by saying that I had questioned Karl closely and was convinced that most of this "stuff" was coming from Bill who was evidently harboring sexual fantasies that were clearly his own (once again, part truth, part lie).
I could tell that Barb was both embarrassed and angered by what I had to say. She ended the conversation by saying that she had plenty to talk to Bill about, and she was sorry he'd put us all in such an awkward position. When I hung up the phone, I turned to Karl and gave him his instructions. I told him that I was quite sure that he'd be getting a call from Bill and that Bill would probably be furious at Karl for "throwing him under the bus". I told Karl that I expected him to fight anger with anger, to back up everything I'd said, and to tell Bill that none of this would have happened if he'd just dropped the subject when Karl asked him to, and bringing it up at dinner was way out of line. Hopefully, all of this would cause Bill to basically break off their friendship, but if he didn't, it was up to Karl to say that it would be better if they didn't have any contact in the future. I really wanted Bill to do the breaking up, but one way or the other, it had to be done.
It was Sunday morning when I gave Karl his instructions, and I told him that since he was off from work on Sunday and Monday, he'd better hope that Bill called soon, as I was going to keep him in the cage until this matter was settled, and I planned to be there when the conversation took place. Karl looked miserable when I told him what was expected of him, but he was smart enough to just say "Whatever you say, Milady" and leave it at that. I did let him crawl out of the cage long enough to rinse and clean his piss/shit bucket, but it was right back into the cage after that and I left the cordless phone where he could reach it through the bars, telling him to check the caller I.D. if it rang to see if it was Bill, and wait at least 3 rings before he answered so that I could pick up the upstairs phone and hear the conversation.
I then told Karl that I was going upstairs and making myself some breakfast, and that he'd be punished later for not being able to fix it for me as he did every morning. Depending on my mood, I might bring him some scraps to lick off my plate and maybe a bowl of water. Maybe. Karl looked miserable as I went upstairs, and that was fine with me. I was hoping that Bill would call soon and this whole thing would be over with, and I really wasn't sure what I'd do about Karl's cage time if Bill hadn't called before Karl's next scheduled work day, which was Tuesday. Keeping him in the cage from Saturday night to Tuesday morning would be much, much longer than he'd ever spent in the cage before, but that would certainly be a lesson he'd never forget. Not to mention all the extra punishments he'd earn by forcing me to fend for myself for breakfasts and dinners each day, and making me hang around the house myself waiting for that phone call.
Luckily, it never came to that. Bill called in the early afternoon and was just as livid as I hoped he would be. Karl did as he was told, and returned harsh words with harsher words, and the conversation soon reached gutter language levels. It ended with Bill saying that he didn't give a fuck if Karl never bought a thing again from the company he represented as he had no intention of ever calling on Karl again. I thought Karl showed a bit of class when he said that he wasn't going to punish Bill's company for Bill's stupidity, just make sure he had a new sales rep and Karl would see to it that his purchasing department handled things from now on. Bill ended with a "Fine, fuck you!" and that was that.
I kept Karl in his cage until 7 PM Sunday night, released him and had him bend over a stool for 30 strokes with a leather paddle on his already raw ass for messing up my breakfast and dinner routines (each stroke followed by Karl saying loudly "Thank you, Milady, for reminding me never to break a trust") and after he kissed my feet and thanked me for punishing him, I told him to clean himself up, drink one glass of water (no, he had never gotten any breakfast scraps or bowl of water), and to get dressed and take me out for dinner. I told him I had no desire to talk about all that had happened, and if he ever said a word to anyone about our lifestyle again without my express permission, he could expect to say goodbye to me.
Karl has been doing everything in his power to pamper me ever since this took place, and has suffered the rather brutal treatment I've given him since then in respectful acceptance. I am following through on my promise to keep his ass sore all month, and he knows what's going to happen to him on the final day of the March Madness basketball tournament. No, I still haven't heard from Barb, and I suspect I never will. That's probably for the best, as I can't imagine any conversation being anything other than very awkward. Life goes on.
P.S. - I must take a moment to recommend a blog I've been reading lately. It's fairly new, very well written, and a great deal of fun. It's called "Adoring a Domme Wife". I hope you check it out. Here's a link to its latest entry http://adoringadommewife.blogspot.com/2012/03/this-morning.html?zx=7ebf97fa42b6d1b8, but I suggest you read it from its beginning to see the wonderful progress that "J" is making.
Before I get into that, I must add that several commenters questioned whether I should have taken this to the extremes that I did. In particular, I was taken to task a bit for not finding ways to confront the problem of my husband Karl and his friend Bill - and their big mouths - without breaking up a friendship with another couple. I appreciate the points of view expressed, but I remain firm in my conviction that the only way to be truly certain that this exchange of information between Karl and Bill about the lifestyle that Karl and I share was nipped in the bud was to assure a clean break between the two of them. Since that would most likely end the friendship of Barb (Bill's wife) and myself as well, I just take it as another unavoidable problem of maintaining the privacy of Karl and me and the D/s lifestyle we have. In reality, "friendships" is a misnomer for these relationships. They're more acquaintanceships than friendships, so giving one up is not quite as drastic as it seems.
Over the years, I've found it difficult to really have a meaningful relationship with any couples that have a vanilla lifestyle. Since I'm lucky enough to have a group of Femdom friends to share things with, I really find that I don't need acquaintanceships with ladies with whom I can't share the most basic aspects of who I am. After all, what good is a "friend" if a big part of yourself can't be revealed to her? As to "couples" acquaintanceships, I really do that for Karl, who has business connections that make it hard to avoid couples get-togethers.
Now, on to the break-up. The closest guess as to what actually happened was written by a commenter named "Downlow" who wrote:
"I'm guessing that you called Barb and told her that Karl told you that Bill had said they're sex life was boring, and that Bill had wanted a spanking.
Barb would yell at Bill, and Bill would get mad at Karl and break off the relationship.
Is that close?"
Yes, it's close, but not as simple as that. I did call Barb the morning after I whipped Karl (he was still in the cage and listening to my end of the conversation), and I did tell her that I had questioned Karl, and pressed for more details about what he and Bill had said to each other (and that was no lie). I said that Karl told me that Bill had taken one of Karl's statements out of context and jumped in with stories about his sex life with Barb (that was part truth, part lie). In particular, Bill said his sex life wasn't very exciting and he wanted his wife to spank him or do other things, but that she wasn't adventurous enough to try something new or somewhat kinky (that was no lie). I said that Karl said that Bill kept bugging him for more details about what he mistakenly thought Karl and I were doing, but Karl just kept saying he didn't want to talk about it, and just kept trying to change the subject (not really a lie, but somewhat exaggerated). I said that Karl felt shocked when Bill started hinting around about our "unusual" sex life at dinner, and he gave Bill a warning look not to keep on in that vein, knowing that I'd be furious if I thought Karl had made up something completely ridiculous about our sexual habits (half truth, half lie). And I finished by saying that I had questioned Karl closely and was convinced that most of this "stuff" was coming from Bill who was evidently harboring sexual fantasies that were clearly his own (once again, part truth, part lie).
I could tell that Barb was both embarrassed and angered by what I had to say. She ended the conversation by saying that she had plenty to talk to Bill about, and she was sorry he'd put us all in such an awkward position. When I hung up the phone, I turned to Karl and gave him his instructions. I told him that I was quite sure that he'd be getting a call from Bill and that Bill would probably be furious at Karl for "throwing him under the bus". I told Karl that I expected him to fight anger with anger, to back up everything I'd said, and to tell Bill that none of this would have happened if he'd just dropped the subject when Karl asked him to, and bringing it up at dinner was way out of line. Hopefully, all of this would cause Bill to basically break off their friendship, but if he didn't, it was up to Karl to say that it would be better if they didn't have any contact in the future. I really wanted Bill to do the breaking up, but one way or the other, it had to be done.
It was Sunday morning when I gave Karl his instructions, and I told him that since he was off from work on Sunday and Monday, he'd better hope that Bill called soon, as I was going to keep him in the cage until this matter was settled, and I planned to be there when the conversation took place. Karl looked miserable when I told him what was expected of him, but he was smart enough to just say "Whatever you say, Milady" and leave it at that. I did let him crawl out of the cage long enough to rinse and clean his piss/shit bucket, but it was right back into the cage after that and I left the cordless phone where he could reach it through the bars, telling him to check the caller I.D. if it rang to see if it was Bill, and wait at least 3 rings before he answered so that I could pick up the upstairs phone and hear the conversation.
I then told Karl that I was going upstairs and making myself some breakfast, and that he'd be punished later for not being able to fix it for me as he did every morning. Depending on my mood, I might bring him some scraps to lick off my plate and maybe a bowl of water. Maybe. Karl looked miserable as I went upstairs, and that was fine with me. I was hoping that Bill would call soon and this whole thing would be over with, and I really wasn't sure what I'd do about Karl's cage time if Bill hadn't called before Karl's next scheduled work day, which was Tuesday. Keeping him in the cage from Saturday night to Tuesday morning would be much, much longer than he'd ever spent in the cage before, but that would certainly be a lesson he'd never forget. Not to mention all the extra punishments he'd earn by forcing me to fend for myself for breakfasts and dinners each day, and making me hang around the house myself waiting for that phone call.
Luckily, it never came to that. Bill called in the early afternoon and was just as livid as I hoped he would be. Karl did as he was told, and returned harsh words with harsher words, and the conversation soon reached gutter language levels. It ended with Bill saying that he didn't give a fuck if Karl never bought a thing again from the company he represented as he had no intention of ever calling on Karl again. I thought Karl showed a bit of class when he said that he wasn't going to punish Bill's company for Bill's stupidity, just make sure he had a new sales rep and Karl would see to it that his purchasing department handled things from now on. Bill ended with a "Fine, fuck you!" and that was that.
I kept Karl in his cage until 7 PM Sunday night, released him and had him bend over a stool for 30 strokes with a leather paddle on his already raw ass for messing up my breakfast and dinner routines (each stroke followed by Karl saying loudly "Thank you, Milady, for reminding me never to break a trust") and after he kissed my feet and thanked me for punishing him, I told him to clean himself up, drink one glass of water (no, he had never gotten any breakfast scraps or bowl of water), and to get dressed and take me out for dinner. I told him I had no desire to talk about all that had happened, and if he ever said a word to anyone about our lifestyle again without my express permission, he could expect to say goodbye to me.
Karl has been doing everything in his power to pamper me ever since this took place, and has suffered the rather brutal treatment I've given him since then in respectful acceptance. I am following through on my promise to keep his ass sore all month, and he knows what's going to happen to him on the final day of the March Madness basketball tournament. No, I still haven't heard from Barb, and I suspect I never will. That's probably for the best, as I can't imagine any conversation being anything other than very awkward. Life goes on.
P.S. - I must take a moment to recommend a blog I've been reading lately. It's fairly new, very well written, and a great deal of fun. It's called "Adoring a Domme Wife". I hope you check it out. Here's a link to its latest entry http://adoringadommewife.blogspot.com/2012/03/this-morning.html?zx=7ebf97fa42b6d1b8, but I suggest you read it from its beginning to see the wonderful progress that "J" is making.
Monday, March 5, 2012
TRUTH - AND CONSEQUENCES
My husband Karl and I spent a night out with another married couple last week. They've been our friends for awhile, we having met them at one of the "affairs" Karl has to attend on a fairly regular basis as the head of his company. I called them Bill and Barb in a previous posting, so I'll continue with that. They're both intelligent and quite witty, and completely vanilla as far as I know. We usually get together with them for dinner and sometimes night clubbing every few months, though Karl sees Bill more often as a result of their business connections, and I often talk to Barb on the phone. They have no idea about the D/s relationship that Karl and I share, or so I thought.
On this particular night, it was something that Bill said that resulted in some unexpected consequences. Somehow the conversation had gotten around to the subject of marriage, and we were talking about the fact that most married couples experience a gradual lessening of passion and romance as time goes by. They've been married a lot longer than Karl and I, and I asked Barb at what point did she notice that things were changing in regard to passion, etc. She replied that at about the six year mark, they'd pretty much done everything they could think of in the way of love making, and that there was an inevitable sense of repetition that came into play. Oh, they still enjoyed sex and all that, but that "edge" that was there when everything was fresh and new and unexplored was not what it once was.
That's when Bill jumped in and said "But I guess you two wouldn't know about that yet. You haven't quite reached the six year mark, and from what Karl has told me, there are things about your relationship that make the normal run of things somewhat meaningless."
Let me jump in here and remind my readers that Karl and I had agreed long ago never to talk about our way of life to anyone in the vanilla world. Considering Karl's position as CEO of his company, it would scarcely do to have our relationship out in the open, and I am fanatically careful in avoiding any loose talk that would even hint at our D/s lifestyle. So when Bill said what he said, it was as if a bombshell had just dropped.
I glanced over at Karl, and immediately saw that his eyes were about twice their normal size and the blood had drained out of his face. Barb had a look on her face that was, in effect, a big question mark. She clearly had no idea what Bill meant. Neither did I, but I certainly had my suspicions, and I was not one bit happy about what I was thinking. Before I could say anything, Barb beat me to it by asking Bill what he meant.
He glanced over at Karl, they made quick eye contact, and Bill started stammering something like "Oh, nothing, nothing at all. I was just kidding my buddy. He never says anything at all about his sex life, and I, um, just wanted to, um, pull his chain a little so maybe he'll start sharing some of the, um, juicy parts, or something."
Barb gave Bill a disgusted look, and said "Why? Do you tell Karl about our sex life? Do you boys have a little tea party and discuss what we do in bed? What have you been telling Karl?"
Bill went on the offensive then, clearly realizing that he should have kept his big mouth shut, and started spluttering things like "Oh sure, as if you ladies never talk about sex to each other" and "It's just naturally going to come up" and "Don't worry, we never get into any details", etc., etc. Barb shot daggers at Bill, and I just looked hard into Karl's eyes, really hard. I'm sure he had no doubt as to how I was feeling.
We were in a restaurant at the time, and dessert was just arriving, so everyone just stopped talking and we finished our meal in a pained silence. Shortly after, we all managed to hug and handshake and I told Barb I'd talk to her soon, and we all went our own ways. I didn't say a word to Karl on the ride home, not one word, and he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut too.
When we arrived home and entered our living room, I looked at Karl and said "Get naked, make me a Manhattan, and meet me in the basement in five minutes. Don't keep me waiting." Karl arrived downstairs with Manhattan in hand and a look on his face that a lamb might wear when he knows he's going to be slaughtered. Without a word, I led him to the wooden beam that now has a pulley system attached, grabbed a length of rope, tied his hands together in front of him, and attached them to the hook hanging from the pulley. It was short work to have him stretched upright before me, on his tiptoes. I sat down on a recliner a short distance in front of Karl, pushed back and made myself comfortable with Manhattan in hand.
As I slowly sipped my drink, I stared into Karl's eyes and said nothing. He couldn't look at me for long, and he cast his eyes downward toward the floor rather than try to meet my stare. It took about twenty minutes before his legs were trembling with the effort of remaining on tiptoes. I picked up the phone on the end table and called Barb as I continued to stare at Karl.
We talked a bit about how the evening had ended on an awkward note, and I asked her if she had talked to Bill about what had taken place. Indeed she had, and was quite pissed off that he wasn't giving her any more information about what had passed between her husband and mine concerning our sex lives. She asked if Karl had said anything, and I told her I was soon going to question him and I'd let her know if anything came of it. We chatted for awhile and then signed off. I was actually quite relieved to hear that Bill had kept his mouth shut with Barb, and I was ready to start finding out from Karl just what information he'd shared with Bill. Karl had, of course, heard my end of the conversation, and was now expecting the cross examination that was about to begin. I know that most couples don't talk about their disagreements with one of them hanging by his arms from a rafter, but then we're hardly a normal couple, are we?
I went over to the collection of "toys" on one of the walls, and selected a single tail whip which I rarely use, snapped it a few times, and approached Karl.
"Karl, it's very, very important that you answer any question I ask you completely truthfully. As you know, I can always tell if you're lying or being evasive. Don't even think about going there. Now look into my eyes and tell me you understand what I've just said."
There was some serious fear in his eyes, as he answered. "Yes, Milady, I understand."
"Good. First question - did we agree at the beginning of our marriage that we'd keep our way of life to ourselves with vanilla friends?"
"Yes, Milady."
"Have you broken that agreement and spoken to Bill about us?"
"NO! Well, I didn't mean to. It was an accident. Just a little thing that slipped out, and..."
"Stop right there. Let me ask you once again, did you break that agreement and speak to Bill about us, whether you meant to or not?"
"Well, I wouldn't say I spoke to him in detail. It was just a little slip-up."
"Yes or no, Karl. Stop trying to tap dance around this. Last chance. Yes or no."
He sighed then and said, "Okay. I guess I'd have to say yes."
I went behind him and started in on his ass with the whip. Fifteen strokes that had him yowling, and hopping like a jumping bean, and left stripes on his ass. As I said, I don't often use the whip, but I do know how, and I freely admit that I enjoy its effect.
"That's for insulting my intelligence with the stupid equivocation of your answer. Now tell me what was said and then we'll get to your actual punishment."
He was somewhat breathless as he began to explain. "We were at the club and working out on the chest machines. You know, the "butterfly" ones that have your arms spread out sort of like you're spread-eagled on the bed, but of course you're upright and not on any bed."
"Yes, I'm familiar with them" I said.
"So I'd reached the point where I was tired from so many reps, and I was all spread out, and I said that being spread out like that reminded me of some really fun sex you and I had, and Bill got kind of excited and asked if I was tied in that position or something, and well, you know, I kind of laughed and said I'd better leave that subject alone, and that got him even more charged up for information, but that's all I actually said, so it wasn't really any big description of our relationship."
"I see. And did Bill leave it at that?"
"No, not really. He kept bugging me for more information, but I just kept putting him off, which is probably why he brought it up at dinner, hoping I'd be forced to talk more about it or something. But it sort of backfired when Barb got mad when she thought he'd been telling me about their sex life."
"And did he actually talk about their sex life?"
"Only to say that he wished Barb would get a little kinky and tie him up or something, but Barb wasn't interested whenever he brought it up. He said they'd had an argument once that ended with him being wrong about something, and he suggested that she might want to spank him, but she just gave him a disgusted look. A few more guys we knew arrived about then, so luckily he dropped the subject and I managed to get out of there before he told me anything else."
"So you opened a real can of worms," I said. "It seems to me that Bill is innocent in all this. You managed to pique his interest with your comment, and that never would have happened if you hadn't said what you said. So basically, his prying into our sex life has been brought about by you. Would you care to hazard a guess as to what he'll say to you the next time you meet?"
"He'll probably ask me why I was sending him facial signals to shut up."
"And what will you say to that?"
"Uh, I don't know, Milady. I guess I'll just say I don't want to talk about it."
"Terrific. And did that stop him from bugging you the first time?"
Karl shamefacedly answered "No, Milady. I guess not."
"Of course he won't stop, Karl. You "A" personality boys don't like to be frustrated, do you? So you've created a real mess now, and I suppose I'm going to have to fix it. I'm going to punish you now for putting me in this position, and then I'm going to figure out what to do about Bill and Barb. I'm very mad at you, Karl. Start counting, and every time you scream, I'll be adding an extra five strokes."
And then I let my whip do the talking. By the time I was done, Karl was hanging there like a wet rag. A well striped wet rag. I untied him, waited until he thanked me with his head at my feet for his punishment, and led him to his cage. That's where he spent the night accompanied by a piss/shit bucket.
So, what was I to do to defuse this situation? I couldn't see any way to stop Bill from pursuing the subject with Karl, and even if Karl had now been silenced by my whip, and refused to talk about our "kinky sex" with Bill, it would be obvious that Karl was trying to hide something. That in turn would probably get Bill even more curious. I had to wonder if Karl could remain silent in the face of a relentless Bill and his "edgeless" sex life, especially since it was clear that Bill had some latent submissive desires. I would have to be aware of any meetings between Karl and Bill, and put Karl through an inquisition each and every time they met. An all around pain in the ass brought on by my husband's careless comment.
I finally reached the conclusion that the only way to prevent further slips of the tongue was to make sure that Bill and Karl were no longer friends. This would clearly mess up our relationship with Bill and Barb as a couple, and probably wreck my relationship with Barb as well, but I couldn't see any other choice. What's more, I knew that the trickiest part was to get Bill to break it off with Karl instead of the other way around. If Karl broke it off, Bill would have suspicions that I put him up to it, and that would fit in too nicely with Bill's already burgeoning thought that I was dominating Karl, and who knew what sort of rumors that could start?
So that's what I did. I figured out a way to get Bill to break off his friendship with Karl. There won't be any more nights out with Bill and Barb, and whether Barb and I can remain friends remains to be seen. Let's just say that I haven't heard from her since the breakup. Karl has lost all potential chances to watch any of his beloved March Madness basketball games, and he's going to have a very sore ass by the time the championship game arrives. A game, I might add, that will be on the television with the sound off while a naked Karl, thoroughly immobilized with rope and chains, and bedecked with many strong clothespins in strategic spots, serves as my footstool, or possibly my end table, facing away from the TV, for the duration of the game. There are consequences for pissing off the Dom.
Oh yes, just how did I orchestrate the breakup of Bill and Karl? With Bill doing the breaking up? Anyone care to guess? I'd be interested in seeing if your ideas would have been better than mine, and I'll explain what I did in my next post after reading any comments.
On this particular night, it was something that Bill said that resulted in some unexpected consequences. Somehow the conversation had gotten around to the subject of marriage, and we were talking about the fact that most married couples experience a gradual lessening of passion and romance as time goes by. They've been married a lot longer than Karl and I, and I asked Barb at what point did she notice that things were changing in regard to passion, etc. She replied that at about the six year mark, they'd pretty much done everything they could think of in the way of love making, and that there was an inevitable sense of repetition that came into play. Oh, they still enjoyed sex and all that, but that "edge" that was there when everything was fresh and new and unexplored was not what it once was.
That's when Bill jumped in and said "But I guess you two wouldn't know about that yet. You haven't quite reached the six year mark, and from what Karl has told me, there are things about your relationship that make the normal run of things somewhat meaningless."
Let me jump in here and remind my readers that Karl and I had agreed long ago never to talk about our way of life to anyone in the vanilla world. Considering Karl's position as CEO of his company, it would scarcely do to have our relationship out in the open, and I am fanatically careful in avoiding any loose talk that would even hint at our D/s lifestyle. So when Bill said what he said, it was as if a bombshell had just dropped.
I glanced over at Karl, and immediately saw that his eyes were about twice their normal size and the blood had drained out of his face. Barb had a look on her face that was, in effect, a big question mark. She clearly had no idea what Bill meant. Neither did I, but I certainly had my suspicions, and I was not one bit happy about what I was thinking. Before I could say anything, Barb beat me to it by asking Bill what he meant.
He glanced over at Karl, they made quick eye contact, and Bill started stammering something like "Oh, nothing, nothing at all. I was just kidding my buddy. He never says anything at all about his sex life, and I, um, just wanted to, um, pull his chain a little so maybe he'll start sharing some of the, um, juicy parts, or something."
Barb gave Bill a disgusted look, and said "Why? Do you tell Karl about our sex life? Do you boys have a little tea party and discuss what we do in bed? What have you been telling Karl?"
Bill went on the offensive then, clearly realizing that he should have kept his big mouth shut, and started spluttering things like "Oh sure, as if you ladies never talk about sex to each other" and "It's just naturally going to come up" and "Don't worry, we never get into any details", etc., etc. Barb shot daggers at Bill, and I just looked hard into Karl's eyes, really hard. I'm sure he had no doubt as to how I was feeling.
We were in a restaurant at the time, and dessert was just arriving, so everyone just stopped talking and we finished our meal in a pained silence. Shortly after, we all managed to hug and handshake and I told Barb I'd talk to her soon, and we all went our own ways. I didn't say a word to Karl on the ride home, not one word, and he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut too.
When we arrived home and entered our living room, I looked at Karl and said "Get naked, make me a Manhattan, and meet me in the basement in five minutes. Don't keep me waiting." Karl arrived downstairs with Manhattan in hand and a look on his face that a lamb might wear when he knows he's going to be slaughtered. Without a word, I led him to the wooden beam that now has a pulley system attached, grabbed a length of rope, tied his hands together in front of him, and attached them to the hook hanging from the pulley. It was short work to have him stretched upright before me, on his tiptoes. I sat down on a recliner a short distance in front of Karl, pushed back and made myself comfortable with Manhattan in hand.
As I slowly sipped my drink, I stared into Karl's eyes and said nothing. He couldn't look at me for long, and he cast his eyes downward toward the floor rather than try to meet my stare. It took about twenty minutes before his legs were trembling with the effort of remaining on tiptoes. I picked up the phone on the end table and called Barb as I continued to stare at Karl.
We talked a bit about how the evening had ended on an awkward note, and I asked her if she had talked to Bill about what had taken place. Indeed she had, and was quite pissed off that he wasn't giving her any more information about what had passed between her husband and mine concerning our sex lives. She asked if Karl had said anything, and I told her I was soon going to question him and I'd let her know if anything came of it. We chatted for awhile and then signed off. I was actually quite relieved to hear that Bill had kept his mouth shut with Barb, and I was ready to start finding out from Karl just what information he'd shared with Bill. Karl had, of course, heard my end of the conversation, and was now expecting the cross examination that was about to begin. I know that most couples don't talk about their disagreements with one of them hanging by his arms from a rafter, but then we're hardly a normal couple, are we?
I went over to the collection of "toys" on one of the walls, and selected a single tail whip which I rarely use, snapped it a few times, and approached Karl.
"Karl, it's very, very important that you answer any question I ask you completely truthfully. As you know, I can always tell if you're lying or being evasive. Don't even think about going there. Now look into my eyes and tell me you understand what I've just said."
There was some serious fear in his eyes, as he answered. "Yes, Milady, I understand."
"Good. First question - did we agree at the beginning of our marriage that we'd keep our way of life to ourselves with vanilla friends?"
"Yes, Milady."
"Have you broken that agreement and spoken to Bill about us?"
"NO! Well, I didn't mean to. It was an accident. Just a little thing that slipped out, and..."
"Stop right there. Let me ask you once again, did you break that agreement and speak to Bill about us, whether you meant to or not?"
"Well, I wouldn't say I spoke to him in detail. It was just a little slip-up."
"Yes or no, Karl. Stop trying to tap dance around this. Last chance. Yes or no."
He sighed then and said, "Okay. I guess I'd have to say yes."
I went behind him and started in on his ass with the whip. Fifteen strokes that had him yowling, and hopping like a jumping bean, and left stripes on his ass. As I said, I don't often use the whip, but I do know how, and I freely admit that I enjoy its effect.
"That's for insulting my intelligence with the stupid equivocation of your answer. Now tell me what was said and then we'll get to your actual punishment."
He was somewhat breathless as he began to explain. "We were at the club and working out on the chest machines. You know, the "butterfly" ones that have your arms spread out sort of like you're spread-eagled on the bed, but of course you're upright and not on any bed."
"Yes, I'm familiar with them" I said.
"So I'd reached the point where I was tired from so many reps, and I was all spread out, and I said that being spread out like that reminded me of some really fun sex you and I had, and Bill got kind of excited and asked if I was tied in that position or something, and well, you know, I kind of laughed and said I'd better leave that subject alone, and that got him even more charged up for information, but that's all I actually said, so it wasn't really any big description of our relationship."
"I see. And did Bill leave it at that?"
"No, not really. He kept bugging me for more information, but I just kept putting him off, which is probably why he brought it up at dinner, hoping I'd be forced to talk more about it or something. But it sort of backfired when Barb got mad when she thought he'd been telling me about their sex life."
"And did he actually talk about their sex life?"
"Only to say that he wished Barb would get a little kinky and tie him up or something, but Barb wasn't interested whenever he brought it up. He said they'd had an argument once that ended with him being wrong about something, and he suggested that she might want to spank him, but she just gave him a disgusted look. A few more guys we knew arrived about then, so luckily he dropped the subject and I managed to get out of there before he told me anything else."
"So you opened a real can of worms," I said. "It seems to me that Bill is innocent in all this. You managed to pique his interest with your comment, and that never would have happened if you hadn't said what you said. So basically, his prying into our sex life has been brought about by you. Would you care to hazard a guess as to what he'll say to you the next time you meet?"
"He'll probably ask me why I was sending him facial signals to shut up."
"And what will you say to that?"
"Uh, I don't know, Milady. I guess I'll just say I don't want to talk about it."
"Terrific. And did that stop him from bugging you the first time?"
Karl shamefacedly answered "No, Milady. I guess not."
"Of course he won't stop, Karl. You "A" personality boys don't like to be frustrated, do you? So you've created a real mess now, and I suppose I'm going to have to fix it. I'm going to punish you now for putting me in this position, and then I'm going to figure out what to do about Bill and Barb. I'm very mad at you, Karl. Start counting, and every time you scream, I'll be adding an extra five strokes."
And then I let my whip do the talking. By the time I was done, Karl was hanging there like a wet rag. A well striped wet rag. I untied him, waited until he thanked me with his head at my feet for his punishment, and led him to his cage. That's where he spent the night accompanied by a piss/shit bucket.
So, what was I to do to defuse this situation? I couldn't see any way to stop Bill from pursuing the subject with Karl, and even if Karl had now been silenced by my whip, and refused to talk about our "kinky sex" with Bill, it would be obvious that Karl was trying to hide something. That in turn would probably get Bill even more curious. I had to wonder if Karl could remain silent in the face of a relentless Bill and his "edgeless" sex life, especially since it was clear that Bill had some latent submissive desires. I would have to be aware of any meetings between Karl and Bill, and put Karl through an inquisition each and every time they met. An all around pain in the ass brought on by my husband's careless comment.
I finally reached the conclusion that the only way to prevent further slips of the tongue was to make sure that Bill and Karl were no longer friends. This would clearly mess up our relationship with Bill and Barb as a couple, and probably wreck my relationship with Barb as well, but I couldn't see any other choice. What's more, I knew that the trickiest part was to get Bill to break it off with Karl instead of the other way around. If Karl broke it off, Bill would have suspicions that I put him up to it, and that would fit in too nicely with Bill's already burgeoning thought that I was dominating Karl, and who knew what sort of rumors that could start?
So that's what I did. I figured out a way to get Bill to break off his friendship with Karl. There won't be any more nights out with Bill and Barb, and whether Barb and I can remain friends remains to be seen. Let's just say that I haven't heard from her since the breakup. Karl has lost all potential chances to watch any of his beloved March Madness basketball games, and he's going to have a very sore ass by the time the championship game arrives. A game, I might add, that will be on the television with the sound off while a naked Karl, thoroughly immobilized with rope and chains, and bedecked with many strong clothespins in strategic spots, serves as my footstool, or possibly my end table, facing away from the TV, for the duration of the game. There are consequences for pissing off the Dom.
Oh yes, just how did I orchestrate the breakup of Bill and Karl? With Bill doing the breaking up? Anyone care to guess? I'd be interested in seeing if your ideas would have been better than mine, and I'll explain what I did in my next post after reading any comments.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
DISAPPOINTMENT
There's very little that's more disappointing than planning something, thinking long and hard about it, preparing for it, and assuming it's going to happen....and then watching it all disappear. I'm sad to say that's what happened to the "slave" competition that has dominated my existence - and my husband's -for the past month or so.
For most of the month of January, things looked good. My husband was in training, my friends Patsy and Clarice were ready and willing to go, and my friend Vanessa was considering a new sub for the competition. So we had the ideal scenario of four participants, and lots of ideas from the kind people who read this blog as to the events.
Then it all fell apart. Vanessa announced that her new sub wasn't working out, and she didn't want him to participate. Then the big blow - Clarice's husband got into a bad car accident, totalling their car, fracturing his ankle, and suffering severe whiplash as well. He's in a cast, and has one of those braces around his neck - totally out of condition for any sort of competition.
That left just two possible participants, and that's not at all what I had in mind when this whole concept began. So, I've been forced to put things on hold indefinitely. Maybe it's for the best. By the time Clarice's husband is once again available ( if she doesn't kill him first:)), maybe Vanessa will have found a worthy sub, and it will probably be spring or summer and outside events can be planned. Ever the optimist!
In the meantime, my husband Karl has spent the last month as a naked, powerless slave to me, and I've certainly enjoyed it immensely, as my CFNM proclivities have been well satisfied. I really do enjoy having a naked slave under my total control. He's been denied any sexual release, and even when he's serviced me, he's been blindfolded and unable to view any of the parts of my body that he's been worshipping. As a result, he's very, very horny, and I've been keeping his chastity device on him all month when he's at work. No sense taking any chances while he's in this state.
Now I'm going to release him and reward him for his month of service and frustration. He's never complained, and he's willingly followed all of my orders no matter how hard I've made things for him. I think I'll let him watch the Super Bowl with his friends tomorrow. See, I'm not a total bitch!
Thank all of you who came up with such great ideas for slave events. I've stored them all away for when the competition actually takes place. Here's hoping it's sooner rather than later.
For most of the month of January, things looked good. My husband was in training, my friends Patsy and Clarice were ready and willing to go, and my friend Vanessa was considering a new sub for the competition. So we had the ideal scenario of four participants, and lots of ideas from the kind people who read this blog as to the events.
Then it all fell apart. Vanessa announced that her new sub wasn't working out, and she didn't want him to participate. Then the big blow - Clarice's husband got into a bad car accident, totalling their car, fracturing his ankle, and suffering severe whiplash as well. He's in a cast, and has one of those braces around his neck - totally out of condition for any sort of competition.
That left just two possible participants, and that's not at all what I had in mind when this whole concept began. So, I've been forced to put things on hold indefinitely. Maybe it's for the best. By the time Clarice's husband is once again available ( if she doesn't kill him first:)), maybe Vanessa will have found a worthy sub, and it will probably be spring or summer and outside events can be planned. Ever the optimist!
In the meantime, my husband Karl has spent the last month as a naked, powerless slave to me, and I've certainly enjoyed it immensely, as my CFNM proclivities have been well satisfied. I really do enjoy having a naked slave under my total control. He's been denied any sexual release, and even when he's serviced me, he's been blindfolded and unable to view any of the parts of my body that he's been worshipping. As a result, he's very, very horny, and I've been keeping his chastity device on him all month when he's at work. No sense taking any chances while he's in this state.
Now I'm going to release him and reward him for his month of service and frustration. He's never complained, and he's willingly followed all of my orders no matter how hard I've made things for him. I think I'll let him watch the Super Bowl with his friends tomorrow. See, I'm not a total bitch!
Thank all of you who came up with such great ideas for slave events. I've stored them all away for when the competition actually takes place. Here's hoping it's sooner rather than later.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
A New Game: "RECONSIDER"
Every once in awhile I get an inspired idea from somewhere or other that takes a mundane chore and transforms it to something quite special - for me at least. Such was the case this New Year's day, as a little germ of an evil idea began to multiply in my brain, and very quickly advanced to the state of reality. Of course, my husband Karl would be the victim of this latest lose/lose idea, a situation he often finds himself in, and as I'm sure you can guess, his lose/lose is always my WIN.
The timing was just right. The plans for a slave competition that I've talked about in my past few blog entries are finally coming together, and it looks as though my Domfriends are as excited as I am about the "events" being planned. So Karl needed to go back into training, and I had just the right thing to get that training started: a new game I've named "Reconsider".
On New Year's day, I had Karl resume his slave status by stripping naked and bowing at my feet, and I reminded him that until further notice, when with me, he would speak only with my permission and respond without hesitation to any orders I might give him. He knew all the rules of his slavery by now, so off we went.
Traditionally, we take down our Christmas tree right after New Year's. We always have a real tree, and taking it down ends with moving it out of the house and into our garage where we've laid out a large piece of plastic to wrap it in for an eventual move to whatever tree recycling spot is available. The problem is that there are always copious needles dropped on the floor of our house along the path leading to our garage. It's about a 20 foot path, over both rugs and wood floor, and I hate the mess it leaves. No matter how much sweeping and vacuuming Karl does afterwards, those damned needles keep turning up for weeks. I swear the damn things positively leap off the tree in all directions.
Well, I was about to fix that problem. After the fun of watching my naked slave taking the beads, lights and ornaments off the tree and placing them neatly in their storage boxes, I lounged on the sofa as he made trips into the garage to put the boxes away. Actually, he wasn't quite naked as I'd put his handcuffs on him and shackled his ankles together with an eight inch chain between the shackles. Then came the tree, which shed lots of needles on him and the floor as he shuffled out to the garage. The tree was so dry, and it was so big that there really was an amazing amount of needles left behind.
When that was over, and it took quite some time, Karl was expecting to be told to sweep and vacuum, as usual, but I had a little surprise for him. "Slave, this year you don't need to sweep or vacuum. I want you to pick up all the needles by hand. You'll crawl around so that you don't miss any, and each twenty that you pick up will be deposited in the bowl I've placed on the end table. You'll announce the running total after each deposit, and when you're done, we'll have an exact count of how many needles there were. I've always wondered what the total was, and now I'll know how many there were this year so we can compare the total year after year. Won't that be nice!"
He was well trained enough not to say anything since I hadn't given him my permission to speak. I watched as he got on his knees and began picking up needles, using his right hand to place them in his left hand which he had to awkwardly maneuver into a position where the needles would stay put. Such fun to watch a slave figure out how to accomplish a difficult task. Then he had to wend his way to the bowl to deposit the needles and announce the total. Sometimes he crawled and sometimes he stood up, probably to loosen his limbs a bit, but over and over he slowly picked up the needles. It was taking him about a minute to pick up each 20 needles, get them into the bowl and return to the floor. I noticed that some of the needles were attached to pieces of the dried branches which had fallen off, so I told him that he had to pluck the needles off individually, and he could clean up the branches later.
After an hour, I gave him a break by ordering him to fix me a sandwich and soft drink, and after he served it to me I told him I'd be going into the basement for awhile but to keep announcing the total out loud as he went along. I relaxed down there, ate my snack, and called my friend Vanessa and explained what I was doing with Karl. She thought it was hilarious, especially when I told her what was coming. I suppose I was down there about an hour and a half, and I grabbed my big leather paddle and some nipple clamps and went back upstairs. I'd used a large bowl for the needles, and it was nearly full. The count was up to 2,020, which meant that his pace had slowed. Made sense, since the distance from needles to bowl kept increasing, and there were far fewer needles to be found.
I placed the paddle and clamps on the sofa where Karl could see them, and watched him in action. He looked pretty frazzled and wasn't moving with much pep, so I gave him a little verbal encouragement. "It's taking you forever to do this. There's still a bunch by the door to the garage where you had to push the tree through, so step it up and finish your chore. I want you to be finished within the next half hour or I'll be using this paddle to boost you along."
He increased his speed as much as those hobbled ankles and wrists would allow, and he was absolutely drenched in sweat after 20 minutes, having added another 360 to the total, largely because they were so concentrated at the door, including a bunch of branches that had snapped off there. Another five minutes of crawling around and looking for strays yielded only another 12 needles. As he approached the bowl with the final 12, I said "Have you finished? You may speak."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"What's the final total?"
"Two thousand, three hundred and ninety two, Your Highness."
"Very impressive, slave. We'll record the total and compare it to next year's. Now I'm going to ask you a very important question. I want you to think very carefully before you answer me. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Are you absolutely certain that you've picked up every single needle?"
He thought for a bit, looked around at the floor, and answered "Yes, I think so, Your Highness."
"Well, slave, let me explain about a little game we'll now play called "Reconsider". I am going to allow you to reconsider the answer you just gave me. Keep in mind, that if you stick with that answer, I will be doing a very close examination of the floor between the tree and the garage door. Everywhere, including under the sofa and chairs and end tables, etc. Everywhere. If I find even a single needle, I will give your ass 75 strokes with my paddle and then take this bowl and fling its contents over the area you've just cleaned, and you will start all over again. I will now give you a chance to reconsider your answer. Is this clear?"
Karl blanched, there's no other word for it. Before he could say anything other than "Yes, Your Highness" I continued. "Now slave, there is a price to be paid for reconsidering. You've already said that you have found all the needles. So if you wish to reconsider, you will have to be punished. You'll receive 15 with the paddle, have your nipple clamps attached, and you will have 15 minutes to search for more needles. I'll give you a minute to think about it."
Nasty? Yes, I know, but I just love making my slave make a choice that involves his own potential punishment. Especially when it's a lose/lose situation for him. It's like a math equation: Choice + lose/lose = fun for the Dom. Simple, and it never fails to arouse me.
I watched Karl - a very bright slave - consider his situation for the next minute. I was pretty sure I knew what he'd decide and I wasn't wrong. "What's your decision slave?"
He sort of sighed and said "I'd like to reconsider,Your Highness."
I smiled. "I believe that was a very wise choice. Now bend over the chair, ass up in the air." Then I gave him 15 hard ones, attached his nipple clamps, and sent him on his way. "You have 15 minutes. Get started."
I watched him carefully as he moved chairs around, pulled out the sofa, peered under end tables, and examined the areas where the rug met the wall. I had a feeling he hadn't had time to do such micro cleaning before, and he knew as well as I that those needle were totally unpredictable. I was thrilled when he found more needles! That worked so well into my plan. After 15 minutes, he shamefacedly crawled to me and presented his left hand, which held 5 more needles.
"Well, well slave, it appears that you were wrong when you said you had all the needles the first time. Good thing for you that you reconsidered. Are you ready for the next part of our game? You may speak."
"Yes, your Highness"
"Very good. You've now found more needles, which means you originally lied to me. That will cost you another 15 with the paddle. Then I'm going to ask you once again if you feel that all the needles are accounted for. If you say yes, you know what will happen if you're wrong, and I'm now going to add another 25 with the paddle for a total of 100 if I find any, and of course you will be starting all over. Just imagine how it would feel after all those new hours of needle picking if the total number came up different! My, what a tragedy that would be.
"However, I'm once again allowing you to reconsider. If you're not totally certain, I'll give you another 15 minutes, Of course, your clamps will stay on and it will cost you 20 strokes with the paddle this time. Add the 15 for lying to me, and that means 35 strokes before you get another 15 minutes. And I must add one thing that might help your decision. If you choose not to reconsider, I'm going to open the door to the garage to see if any needles might have gotten caught in the doorway. That's before I start searching the floors. I notice you never checked that, and if some needles should fall on this side of the door, I'm afraid I'll have to consider that a failure on your part. So take another minute and I'll get your latest answer."
Poor Karl just closed his eyes and struck the most resigned pose on his knees. He knew he had to check that door himself or risk hours of needle picking plus awful paddling. Not much doubt about what choice he'd make this time. When the minute was up, I allowed him to speak.
"I'd like to reconsider, Your Highness."
"Very well. Get over the chair with your ass in the air. You know the drill." And I gave him 35 with the paddle on his now cherry red ass. I might add that there was no erection in evidence. Off he went again, heading right to the doorway. When he opened the door (it opens inwards) damned if a bunch of needles didn't drop to the floor. I couldn't help it - I actually burst out laughing. The look on his face! He couldn't help himself either, but what he did was bark "Jesus!", before he controlled himself. Then he clutched the needles in his hand and looked around frantically to see if there could possibly be any other areas he hadn't looked. He used the entire 15 minutes before depositing the door needles in the bowl. Then he lay prone on the floor before me and put his forehead on my shoes in utter defeat, which I found quite touching.
"Do you think you have them all now, slave. You may speak"
"Yes, Your Highness." His voice was completely resigned by now, and I knew he'd reached the psychological end of his rope. I'd had a fine time, and I really didn't need any more, so I asked him again if he was ready for my inspection.
"Yes, Your Highness".
"Would you like to reconsider this time? It will cost you more paddling."
"No, Your Highness."
"Very good. You'll now get 15 with the paddle for saying "Jesus" and I'll begin my inspection. After the paddling, you'll stand in the corner with your nipple clamps on and the paddle hanging from its cord in your mouth. Do not drop the paddle."
So there was Karl in the corner, facing the wall, and it would have been quite easy to snatch a few needles from the bowl and pretend I'd found them on the floor, but fair is fair (well maybe not all the time), and I didn't do that. I actually gave a rather cursory search, dragging it out for about 45 minutes so that Karl could sweat a little more. I couldn't find a needle, and I'm not sure what I would have done if I had, but Karl had done a fine job after all, and he deserved to be rewarded.
I won't say what the reward was, but I will say that in the end I was a very satisfied Dom, Karl's tongue was very tired, and there was an erection in evidence. Denied, but certainly in evidence.
Comments are always welcomed.
The timing was just right. The plans for a slave competition that I've talked about in my past few blog entries are finally coming together, and it looks as though my Domfriends are as excited as I am about the "events" being planned. So Karl needed to go back into training, and I had just the right thing to get that training started: a new game I've named "Reconsider".
On New Year's day, I had Karl resume his slave status by stripping naked and bowing at my feet, and I reminded him that until further notice, when with me, he would speak only with my permission and respond without hesitation to any orders I might give him. He knew all the rules of his slavery by now, so off we went.
Traditionally, we take down our Christmas tree right after New Year's. We always have a real tree, and taking it down ends with moving it out of the house and into our garage where we've laid out a large piece of plastic to wrap it in for an eventual move to whatever tree recycling spot is available. The problem is that there are always copious needles dropped on the floor of our house along the path leading to our garage. It's about a 20 foot path, over both rugs and wood floor, and I hate the mess it leaves. No matter how much sweeping and vacuuming Karl does afterwards, those damned needles keep turning up for weeks. I swear the damn things positively leap off the tree in all directions.
Well, I was about to fix that problem. After the fun of watching my naked slave taking the beads, lights and ornaments off the tree and placing them neatly in their storage boxes, I lounged on the sofa as he made trips into the garage to put the boxes away. Actually, he wasn't quite naked as I'd put his handcuffs on him and shackled his ankles together with an eight inch chain between the shackles. Then came the tree, which shed lots of needles on him and the floor as he shuffled out to the garage. The tree was so dry, and it was so big that there really was an amazing amount of needles left behind.
When that was over, and it took quite some time, Karl was expecting to be told to sweep and vacuum, as usual, but I had a little surprise for him. "Slave, this year you don't need to sweep or vacuum. I want you to pick up all the needles by hand. You'll crawl around so that you don't miss any, and each twenty that you pick up will be deposited in the bowl I've placed on the end table. You'll announce the running total after each deposit, and when you're done, we'll have an exact count of how many needles there were. I've always wondered what the total was, and now I'll know how many there were this year so we can compare the total year after year. Won't that be nice!"
He was well trained enough not to say anything since I hadn't given him my permission to speak. I watched as he got on his knees and began picking up needles, using his right hand to place them in his left hand which he had to awkwardly maneuver into a position where the needles would stay put. Such fun to watch a slave figure out how to accomplish a difficult task. Then he had to wend his way to the bowl to deposit the needles and announce the total. Sometimes he crawled and sometimes he stood up, probably to loosen his limbs a bit, but over and over he slowly picked up the needles. It was taking him about a minute to pick up each 20 needles, get them into the bowl and return to the floor. I noticed that some of the needles were attached to pieces of the dried branches which had fallen off, so I told him that he had to pluck the needles off individually, and he could clean up the branches later.
After an hour, I gave him a break by ordering him to fix me a sandwich and soft drink, and after he served it to me I told him I'd be going into the basement for awhile but to keep announcing the total out loud as he went along. I relaxed down there, ate my snack, and called my friend Vanessa and explained what I was doing with Karl. She thought it was hilarious, especially when I told her what was coming. I suppose I was down there about an hour and a half, and I grabbed my big leather paddle and some nipple clamps and went back upstairs. I'd used a large bowl for the needles, and it was nearly full. The count was up to 2,020, which meant that his pace had slowed. Made sense, since the distance from needles to bowl kept increasing, and there were far fewer needles to be found.
I placed the paddle and clamps on the sofa where Karl could see them, and watched him in action. He looked pretty frazzled and wasn't moving with much pep, so I gave him a little verbal encouragement. "It's taking you forever to do this. There's still a bunch by the door to the garage where you had to push the tree through, so step it up and finish your chore. I want you to be finished within the next half hour or I'll be using this paddle to boost you along."
He increased his speed as much as those hobbled ankles and wrists would allow, and he was absolutely drenched in sweat after 20 minutes, having added another 360 to the total, largely because they were so concentrated at the door, including a bunch of branches that had snapped off there. Another five minutes of crawling around and looking for strays yielded only another 12 needles. As he approached the bowl with the final 12, I said "Have you finished? You may speak."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"What's the final total?"
"Two thousand, three hundred and ninety two, Your Highness."
"Very impressive, slave. We'll record the total and compare it to next year's. Now I'm going to ask you a very important question. I want you to think very carefully before you answer me. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Are you absolutely certain that you've picked up every single needle?"
He thought for a bit, looked around at the floor, and answered "Yes, I think so, Your Highness."
"Well, slave, let me explain about a little game we'll now play called "Reconsider". I am going to allow you to reconsider the answer you just gave me. Keep in mind, that if you stick with that answer, I will be doing a very close examination of the floor between the tree and the garage door. Everywhere, including under the sofa and chairs and end tables, etc. Everywhere. If I find even a single needle, I will give your ass 75 strokes with my paddle and then take this bowl and fling its contents over the area you've just cleaned, and you will start all over again. I will now give you a chance to reconsider your answer. Is this clear?"
Karl blanched, there's no other word for it. Before he could say anything other than "Yes, Your Highness" I continued. "Now slave, there is a price to be paid for reconsidering. You've already said that you have found all the needles. So if you wish to reconsider, you will have to be punished. You'll receive 15 with the paddle, have your nipple clamps attached, and you will have 15 minutes to search for more needles. I'll give you a minute to think about it."
Nasty? Yes, I know, but I just love making my slave make a choice that involves his own potential punishment. Especially when it's a lose/lose situation for him. It's like a math equation: Choice + lose/lose = fun for the Dom. Simple, and it never fails to arouse me.
I watched Karl - a very bright slave - consider his situation for the next minute. I was pretty sure I knew what he'd decide and I wasn't wrong. "What's your decision slave?"
He sort of sighed and said "I'd like to reconsider,Your Highness."
I smiled. "I believe that was a very wise choice. Now bend over the chair, ass up in the air." Then I gave him 15 hard ones, attached his nipple clamps, and sent him on his way. "You have 15 minutes. Get started."
I watched him carefully as he moved chairs around, pulled out the sofa, peered under end tables, and examined the areas where the rug met the wall. I had a feeling he hadn't had time to do such micro cleaning before, and he knew as well as I that those needle were totally unpredictable. I was thrilled when he found more needles! That worked so well into my plan. After 15 minutes, he shamefacedly crawled to me and presented his left hand, which held 5 more needles.
"Well, well slave, it appears that you were wrong when you said you had all the needles the first time. Good thing for you that you reconsidered. Are you ready for the next part of our game? You may speak."
"Yes, your Highness"
"Very good. You've now found more needles, which means you originally lied to me. That will cost you another 15 with the paddle. Then I'm going to ask you once again if you feel that all the needles are accounted for. If you say yes, you know what will happen if you're wrong, and I'm now going to add another 25 with the paddle for a total of 100 if I find any, and of course you will be starting all over. Just imagine how it would feel after all those new hours of needle picking if the total number came up different! My, what a tragedy that would be.
"However, I'm once again allowing you to reconsider. If you're not totally certain, I'll give you another 15 minutes, Of course, your clamps will stay on and it will cost you 20 strokes with the paddle this time. Add the 15 for lying to me, and that means 35 strokes before you get another 15 minutes. And I must add one thing that might help your decision. If you choose not to reconsider, I'm going to open the door to the garage to see if any needles might have gotten caught in the doorway. That's before I start searching the floors. I notice you never checked that, and if some needles should fall on this side of the door, I'm afraid I'll have to consider that a failure on your part. So take another minute and I'll get your latest answer."
Poor Karl just closed his eyes and struck the most resigned pose on his knees. He knew he had to check that door himself or risk hours of needle picking plus awful paddling. Not much doubt about what choice he'd make this time. When the minute was up, I allowed him to speak.
"I'd like to reconsider, Your Highness."
"Very well. Get over the chair with your ass in the air. You know the drill." And I gave him 35 with the paddle on his now cherry red ass. I might add that there was no erection in evidence. Off he went again, heading right to the doorway. When he opened the door (it opens inwards) damned if a bunch of needles didn't drop to the floor. I couldn't help it - I actually burst out laughing. The look on his face! He couldn't help himself either, but what he did was bark "Jesus!", before he controlled himself. Then he clutched the needles in his hand and looked around frantically to see if there could possibly be any other areas he hadn't looked. He used the entire 15 minutes before depositing the door needles in the bowl. Then he lay prone on the floor before me and put his forehead on my shoes in utter defeat, which I found quite touching.
"Do you think you have them all now, slave. You may speak"
"Yes, Your Highness." His voice was completely resigned by now, and I knew he'd reached the psychological end of his rope. I'd had a fine time, and I really didn't need any more, so I asked him again if he was ready for my inspection.
"Yes, Your Highness".
"Would you like to reconsider this time? It will cost you more paddling."
"No, Your Highness."
"Very good. You'll now get 15 with the paddle for saying "Jesus" and I'll begin my inspection. After the paddling, you'll stand in the corner with your nipple clamps on and the paddle hanging from its cord in your mouth. Do not drop the paddle."
So there was Karl in the corner, facing the wall, and it would have been quite easy to snatch a few needles from the bowl and pretend I'd found them on the floor, but fair is fair (well maybe not all the time), and I didn't do that. I actually gave a rather cursory search, dragging it out for about 45 minutes so that Karl could sweat a little more. I couldn't find a needle, and I'm not sure what I would have done if I had, but Karl had done a fine job after all, and he deserved to be rewarded.
I won't say what the reward was, but I will say that in the end I was a very satisfied Dom, Karl's tongue was very tired, and there was an erection in evidence. Denied, but certainly in evidence.
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