Bound in snow

IMG_6512My boy’s day yesterday was filled with manual labor. Lots of shoveling, car juggling, scraping, defrosting, arranging, rearranging, prepping, managing and maintaining. He did it all. Yes, he had help as we all chipped in to assist. But I could see the extra effort he was putting in to cover my share of the work load. He never grumbles about it, he just ‘does’.

I had fantasies about a long and lazy day of being at home, and snow of naked time, of ass play, of breaking out and dusting off toy bags and getting creative with the contents. But none of that happened. Maine pretty much shut down and everyone was home. The day flew by. And….truth be told….my roommate and I decided to throw it in 4 wheel drive and do a mini bar crawl. Three beers in 3 hours was a good pace, and it was a good venture out. It’s another example of that ‘worlds colliding’ I have talked about. Such good intentions, not enough time. Or, time I end up managing differently. So be it.

We survived the “bomb cyclone” as they’ve been calling it. In Maine, we are prepared to handle things like this. We kind of get excited about it, to be honest. It’s better having my boy by my side.  Or, really, slightly behind me. Don’t well behaved dogs make everything better??

Cheers, baby. You did good!



I have two dogs. Aka, two boys. Two playthings. Two submissive men. One is John, my 24/7 boy. We live together. We’ve been together playing for over 10 years.  If you read the blog on even somewhat of a irregular basis, you know of our years and our adventures.

Not that long ago, Troy came sailing into our lives, a most pleasant addition. Troy is new to power exchanges, to kinky dynamics. He is lovely, sweet, funny, warm, loyal, smart, easy to be around. But my word….that boy is not as leash trained as he needs to be. That toy named troy is a slippery fellow. Not at all maliciously so, for I truly do not believe he resists the feel of a collar. Or the tug of a leash. Instead, he is the kind of pet that you’ll leave loosely tied up outside of a local shop on Main Street as you dash inside to get a cup of coffee. What happens when that happens? Well…

I’ll head into that figurative coffee shop, leaving outside my two dogs. Both tied lightly to a post outside the door. The pet named john will contently lay down. Head on paws, relaxed. He knows well this routine, and he has a wonderful strategy to occupy himself while his Mistress is indoors. My pup (john) knows that with his head resting on paws, and his eyes looking up, he’ll get to see lots of skirts, lots of legs, lots of high heels passing him by. He’ll often find people stopping to pet him, to admire him and his obedience. Most often he lays there, tail wagging, not a worry in the world. He knows I will return from my errand and will delight in seeing him there, waiting obediently.

Pet troy, on the other hand, is a different dog. He is younger, impish, distracted. He is just as happy, just as cute. But he has a knack for slipping out of that collar and away from the rope that secures him. He doesn’t go far, he doesn’t bother anyone. But he’ll wander up and down that sidewalk, nose to the pavement, distracted by the scent of a hot dog vendor, or he’ll follow a pretty lady, not realizing how far he is drifting. His tail wags steadily, he hasn’t quite figured out that a leash is a silent sort of instruction. He knows all the basic commands. “Sit”, “Shake”, “Beg”, “Heel”. He is even getting good at “Bend over”, “Present”. But “Stay” isn’t one he has quiet mastered yet.

And no, I am not at all referring to him cheating. Or being dishonest or disloyal. I am simply talking about a pet that slips off his leash because I don’t think he quiet feels he knows his place yet. To be fair to him, I don’t have him full time, so troy has to be in many different worlds in a week. Perhaps the adjustment is hard for him, I’m not sure. He is not yet taking My commands as gospel. When I say to him on a Monday “Stay. Wait for Me. Good boy.”, he’ll stay in the neighborhood, but he won’t always be at the spot where I expect him to be. I’ll whistle, and he’ll come running back, tail wagging, mud on his nose from the exploring, but not at all realizing that I anticipated him to be where I told him to be. I scowl at this, but smile too. He is lucky he is cute and inexperienced. I don’t feel angry at this. But I am realizing he needs more training. Perhaps not quantity, but rather quality. Quality training for my quality pet. He needs to learn that when I have him with me on the days I have him, his obedience needs to be complete. I will need to tie him tighter, make the collar snugger. My orders will have to be more stern, more direct.

I wonder if he knows I have a shock collar for such training needs. I don’t use it often, because it’s a rather intense form of instruction. But I’m thinking it’s time to break it out of it’s case, charge up the batteries, and give it a test or two.

Troy will respond well to this, I think. He might not like it, but he’ll learn from it. I feel rather certain of dog



Date with a stranger


So, yes….back to the story of my whirlwind adventure…..

I do enjoy Collarspace from time to time. It is one of those sites where I will not log in for many months, but then I do, and it’s entertaining and fresh and fruitful. And then it gets old, and I disappear from it again.

It is nearly always the way someone writes that gets and holds my attention. This one in particular that squeezed my brain had no picture attached to it, had no descending order of likes and dislikes, and really didn’t have much except a couple of well written paragraphs that pulled at all my pink bits. Don’t forget that I fell head over heels for john because of how he engaged my mind. He figured out early on how to play with my biggest sex organ, and he played vvvvery well.

This guy wasn’t quiet like that (you never do get over your first, do you??), but it was reminiscent of that, and I liked it. I liked it a lot.

I have had my itches to bottom satisfied by john. I do not always feel the need to search outside of that, but I do every once in a while. I am at risk often for wanting to ‘top from the bottom’. I am very prone to that sort of thing. If I do search for a playful top, they can really only get and hold my attention if they take no shit from me. I can’t tell you how many times I have tried to bottom and ended up topping midway through. I don’t generally mind that….but it’s a pretty cool thing when someone starts on top and stays on top.

Many tantalizing emails went back and forth between this stranger and me. And not tantalizing in a way that would make anyone else notice, probably, but they worked very well for my particular set of likes. I was hooked. All of my senses were alive and in overdrive…..including my sense of intuition.

A seed got planted about a month ago. It basically said, “Hey. I have to travel to Philly for a night. Take the train down to Boston, hop in my car, spend the night with me in a hotel, I’ll do terrible things to you, and then you can head back to Maine the next day. What do you think?”

What do I think, he asks?? Meaning, you want me to…..

Hop in a car with a stranger?

Travel 7 states away where I don’t know anyone?

Spent a night, and we haven’t even met for coffee?

Terrible things??? What sort of terrible things?? Define ‘terrible’. Please.

Of course I said yes.

<insert big smile here…..>

I am NOT advocating this. This is not typically how I behave. If a friend came to me and said, “Hey, this is what I am thinking of doing with a stranger….”, I would grab them by the shoulders, shake hard, and say, “Are you nuts??!!!  You can’t do that!!!!” slapslapslap…..

But the point it, I did it. I am resisting about writing about all of the behind the scenes precautions I took, the conversations I had with john, the wrestling back and forth, the emails that implored “Please don’t be an ax murderer”, the fact that he never did actually say that he wasn’t (I’m smiling), and all that factored in. I am not going to write about that, because I would be doing it for the wrong reasons. I don’t want anyone to think I am careless beyond reason. I am not. In the end, I figured that my chances of getting killed by a car as I drove in my home town or crossed a street were about as high as me being killed by a man who has a great career and kids in college.

The fact that he stopped and bought rope and a knife with me standing by his side only confirmed this for me.


So, away I went. I hopped on board, bought the ticket, took the ride, ended up in Boston, stood facing the sun at the terminal, and waited for the stranger to come pick me up.

John had me on friend finder; he could see exactly where I was. He could see the buildings all around me. He knew I was nervous too. I could feel john watching me, and watching out for me. We had our time and tested precautions in place. I was ready. Nervous as hell, but ready.

I was missing john as I stood waiting. The sun felt good on my face. It felt familiar, warm. It felt good to be communicating with john. That too felt familiar and warm.

And then both were gone. My concentration in my writing broke and the sun went away, replaced by a sudden and looming shadow.

Out of nowhere, it seemed, he just appeared…stranger danger man. He stood before me, upon me so quickly, I didn’t even see him coming. I couldn’t even really focus quickly. I stared up at him, saw the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and heard the question, “Chloe??” and that was it….our game of thrones had begun.

to be continued……….






Clothed down

It’s been a great week and a half. I come home, I get naked, put on the collar and go about our evening together. And we’ve had few interruptions at home so I’ve not had to throw something on for anybody. At most, last night, we had a guest who was a friend of kink so I wore my apron through dinner – and nothing else!

Listen here, boy!

Just because we’re wearing clothes, doesn’t mean there’s no D/s dynamic!

It’s left me open to Madame’s touches and gaze, which has been lovely. And it means I can’t hide my obvious arousal for her at any time. Arousal which happens often. And while it’s not always PTFD, she doesn’t allow me free reign over my desires for fucking. After all, what kind of Mistress would she be if she allowed that!

But now the holidays are upon us. My lovely children will be back (and I love them and look forward to it!) and we’ll be headed to family gatherings this weekend, like so many others. So, hair will be brushed and primped, clothes will be lint rolled and… worst of all… clothes will be worn! Damn it all.

It’s fun to think about a world where naked isn’t unusual, but we know that it is. After all, the Puritans, who had a good strong measure in creating this holiday of ours (yes, I know…) were, well, Puritans! And being in New England, those Puritan busy body traditions trickle down to present day. We can barely even get a good public dungeon up here!

So, I shall shower and shave and put on nice clothes and be my typical good servant to my Mistress while we attend family gatherings and I will be a good attentive dad to my children and we’ll get through this until Monday. When I can get naked again.

Unsure of the posting schedule, but Happy Thanksgiving to all!

I like punny titles.

Big Bed

I like how my boy was ordered to sleep last night.

It is interesting to me that after years and years of sleeping together, we still find ways of mixing it up.

We have been house sitting for the weekend. They have an enormous bed…..huge, comfortable and completely smothered in heavy down comforters and pillows. It is luxurious. Sexy. Regal, even. It is much more space than what we are used to. It is one of those sleeping spaces where you want to go to bed at 7pm, just so you lose yourself in a sea of blankets.

Except that I couldn’t sleep. I was too hot. I tossed and turned for a couple of hours. I was wide awake…..too hot, too often. My boy came along with me on this ride….I pulled him closer to me. I pushed him away. I had him pet me and rub me, and then said he could stop because his warm hands were adding unwanted heat. I switched sides of the bed. I traded pillows. I had him read out loud, which made me sleepy, but sleep still would not conquer me.

Finally, for some reason I am not entirely sure, I had him lay with his feet up by the headboard, and his face down by my ass. It simply came upon me that I wanted him there like that. I had him curled against me, his beautiful face pressed tightly against my ass and I lay on my side, facing away from him.

His nose buried in that space where my ass my pussy meet. That triangle of love. That magical, dark, musky, sexy space. That is where my boy slept.

But before he slept, he lapped. He was ordered to lick and lap all of those dark spaces. His entire face was smothered by my skin, by the weight of comforters, by the darkness of sheets. It felt good to me….it almost felt like he was in a bondage of a different kind. I knew I would keep him there until sleep found me, and it did. But that was after the sex, after the enormous orgasm I had while using my sex slave, my boy. Once I felt the last of the spasms of those wonderful waves that washed over me, I ordered him back down to that space. Now damper, now mustier, he again pressed his nose and mouth into my folds, breathing deeply as instructed.

We slept. We both slept. Quickly, deeply, erotically, fully.