Restraint and service

There is a lot happening when I sleep. Rare is the night when I sleep like a baby, blissfully unaware of my self; awakening from a state of nothingness. I absolutely love it when it happens, usually when  I am desperate for an eight hour sleep, but on a day by day basis it is not meant to be.

The night before last my husband tied my wrists together and my ankles as well. I loved every moment of it but I suspect the minutes I was fast asleep and unaware of the ropes were few. I tossed and turned looking for the best position, eventually deciding that lying on my back was the way to go. By early morning I was conscious of the fact that my hands were in the prayer position, palms face to face, and the soles of my feet were also together with my knees spread. I was aware of thinking how marvellous I thought this new position; a sort of meditative position on one's back. I could feel my sexuality simmering away; like I was a slow cooker.

At times like this, my mind turns to chastity belts. I imagine what it must be like to be told one cannot touch oneself, or to be shown that one has no hope of touching oneself by being put into a chastity belt. In my thoughts I can take this several steps further by imagining that I'm under the control of people whose business it is to train me to accept these constraints on my liberty. Constraining my sexual liberties in reality is something I can't really come to terms with but in the night I often go to the thought; almost as if it were the last frontier for me; the constraint that  I must endure because I can't endure it.

My sexuality was given free reign later that same morning although my liberty was still in question: holes filled and gagged, eyes covered, hands tied to bed posts. That evening, I constrained myself in my usual way expecting that the plug would co-operate and leave me to sleep. But, it was not to be. My mind was too active, not with worry but with being taken and used in various ways; with men (and women, what's more) wanting to use paddles and canes on my rump. I squeezed and squeezed in the hope of settling the situation down, but in vain.

Eventually, and it's not a thing I do lightly because I like to imagine that I am in a chastity belt and have no choice over the matter at all, I woke myself up properly and went and removed the object causing me the sleeplessness. Almost immediately I think, I went into a deep sleep, waking only when  I heard the garage door open downstairs and registering that my daughter was leaving for school.

This notion in my mind of constraint and use sit side by side one another. I like the idea that I must show patience and forbearance and I like the idea that I am a waiting object. When the use takes place I like the idea that I am object designed for use and hungry for use.

Along with the interplay of restraint and use is the interplay of a mind filled with the desire for use (but the inability to do anything about it) and the mind that is emptied of all matters but sensations when use takes place. Whether I'm locked away in one fashion or another or abundantly used, it's all service (for me!). Shhhhhhhh.

Privacy

As time has gone on, I've felt a bit uncomfortable at times about sharing myself with the general public. At home, things are so wonderful between my husband and me but I just don't have the desire to write down specifics because it feels odd to me now that anybody could read my words.

I have an affection for this particular blog. I have tried others outlets for my words but it is this blog that I gravitate back towards time and time again and I continue to have a desire to chronicle my experiences here.

I shall leave this post up for a few days so that as many people see it as possible and then I will close the blog except for one reader: myself. I do realize that there is a little contingent of people who enjoy reading here and if you would particularly like to go on reading, you could send me an email and I will add you to the list of readers. In this way, I have a sense of who is reading and I don't have to put so many restraints on what I say or how I say it as I do now.

It may be that this doesn't work. I can only give it a try and see how that goes. In any case, I will use this opportunity to say how much I have enjoyed writing here to now, how appreciative I am of comments and that I wish you well. Chapters of Frederick and Agnes can always be found on David's blog, 'A View from the Top'.

Thank you.

ALL STRUNG UP

She had just got into bed, naked. He came into the room and like a man with purpose, strode to his chest of drawers. He took out her ankle and wrist restraints and a piece of rope. He came to her side of the bed, and pulled back the covers.

She did not resist, nor did she say a word. He knew she adored to be restrained, especially when she could stay restrained all night. But, hell would freeze over before she suggested it to him. If she asked, it broke the spell. He knew this. He’d tried to break her of the behaviour, or lack thereof, but it was the way she was.

He could see that she was delighted to be in this invidious situation. A calm came over her in such moments; breathlessness. She lay there completely still and watched him secure her; wrist to wrist, then ankle to ankle and finally, with a piece of rope, ankles to wrists. His intention was to put her on her side and send her off to sleep forthwith. But, in a little bundle as she was, he changed his plan.

He undressed, and turned her so that she was on her back facing him at the side of the bed. He’d had the bed specially made so that it was higher than those in the stores. He’d had the bed made this way for just these moments. He undressed, took one last look at her strung up as she was, and then plundered her.

He felt differently this evening. He was not interested in her orgasmic pleasure right now. He wanted his own pleasure and he fucked her hard and fast. He came, grunting and groaning. He was deeply satisfied.

He withdrew. He walked to the bathroom and collected two tissues and placed them around her cunt. He put her on her side; a tightly strung little bundle.

“Off to sleep now. Straight away! Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Master.”

She was already drifting into slumber. Her eyes were closed.

He put his clothes back on, and turned off the light; closed the door.

He was deeply satisfied with himself. She was already asleep.