Monday morning. Nothing special about it, really. Except that Sunday night i finished "Crusader" by Andrew Chapman, which, for a science fiction/fantasy novel, contains some eloquent, steamy, and lightly themed BDSM sex scenes. When i woke up (as usual, before Master) i was craving something a little stronger, so i fetched for myself "The Story of O" and read a good third of the book before i had to have the real thing. So, ever so gently, i worked on bringing Master out of His sound sleep, and as He lay there, i asked if Monday mornings were good for sisal rope or lots of belts. His sleepy eyebrows arched with delighted supposition before He told me to get the sisal.
He mauled me while wrapping me with that lovely, stiff and pokey rope. It was a beautiful chest harness, and was so very tight that every move was riddled with the prickles of the rope. He used the leather cuffs and bound me down to the bed, and pain mingled deliciously with the pleasure of sex. Master delighted in pushing on me in ways that created more pressure in the harness, making it push and poke deeper into my flesh. As we finished, i gasped for air, and felt as if we'd held the scene for hours. Though i still don't know how long we actually took, it was a beautiful start to Monday. Master and i felt connected, spent and blissed out. Eventually though, the stabbing sisal had to be removed, and as Master took it from my body, i reached back to feel my ribs and pulled my hand away, wet. i was shocked, and asked Master why my hand would be wet. He shrugged and suggested it was sweat. But it was too slippery to have been sweat (plus i very rarely sweat - hahaha!), considering my brain was more wrapped up in the rush of pain/pleasure/sex, i let it go.
As we stumbled downstairs for our shower, i dallied, and Master had already started the water when i arrived. i looked into the beginning to fog mirror and gasped. Now it made sense - the sisal had been tight enough, and prickly enough that the slippery wetness i'd felt had been plasma, and now little tiny wounds were beginning to appear, seeping blood. Master asked me what was wrong from behind the shower curtain, and i casually commented that the length of sisal we had used was no longer a toy we could share. He peeked around and i showed Him the little wounds, beginning to seep just enough blood to form minuscule scabs. We laughed, and He dried off and ran to get the camera to take pictures of the aftermath.
We counted our Monday morning scene and sex as a feather in our caps, and went about the typical routine, spending time together as a family, playing with our kiddo, and eventually, Master headed off to be tortured by "hippie hypocrisy" while i continued to slowly work on things that need doing around the house. As the day wound down, i felt extremely sore from the mornings' delicious activities.
Lo and behold, though, shortly before Master left work, our little munchkin agreed that he was, after all, a sleepy boy, and went nicely to bed. When Master walked in the door, we practically flew to our boudoir, where we settled in for more sex! While Master crushed me with recycled belts from our years involved in martial arts, He told me awful stories about things He'd like to do, though He did admit the version of me that dwells in His fantasies is more masochistic than i, though i am a bigger pain slut than i willingly admit. As we lay there, spent for the second time, i casually asked Master if He was really done for the day. i love seeing His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
One of my favorite ties, but one we don't do often, is anything that exaggerates the natural curve of the spine. Monday night, as we traveled into the Summer Solstice, my back felt better than it has in ages. So good, in fact, i asked that Master consider a back bending tie and fucking me from behind. He happily obliged, contorting my body. Shoulders pulled back and hips pulled up, my belly rubbed against the bed, though i was propped up on my elbows and knees, and as Master penetrated me for the third time in one day, i gasped. Orgasms rolled over me, surprising me with their rapid onset, and the duration with which they lasted. As i finished gasping from the last one, another wave would roll over me, and Master accepted a pathetic "please" instead of the much longer, usual required begging for orgasms. His body pulsed with mine, and we lay there, on our sheets, still covered in sisal fibers, sweat and cum... His hand moved to loosen the knots, and i rolled away, turning myself onto my back, stealing the knots from His fingers. i wasn't ready to be let loose. It felt far too comfortable, and i felt far too much like the puppy that wasn't done playing.
Master obliged. And i screamed into the pillow, sore, swollen and yet, somehow, still suffering from an overactive libido.
Two scenes, four unique acts of sex, and my back feels amazingly well, though there won't be any tank tops in my near future, considering i'm marked all over. Yes, Monday was beautiful! Wonder if Tuesday night might be back bending, too...Must. Relocate. Camera.