control

The exercise was one of control, we both knew that I had control over his pain and pleasure, but this time was about serving and giving. Instead of me giving him pain, giving him sub space, it was about him giving back to me, and it was made clear that I wouldn’t push his play limits or allow him release, no matter how often he begged and pleaded for sexual contact.

Normally there is no lack of sensations for him to feel, my nails, teeth and fists are quick to mark and abuse...after all, he is mine to torment, torture or please as my mood takes me. Often he reminds me that he is mine, his cock, his body, and he is there to please me in whichever way I see fit so this time I chose to explore another side of that.

I gave him his instructions before he arrived, so that when he got here he was impatient for things to start, and more than once mentioned the massage I had demanded from him, but I made him wait, past experience told me to get mundane things like dinner out of the way first.

Its funny, making him wait is becoming one of my favourite teases, he squirms and huffs like a child who has been told no sweets till after dinner. Though in this case that’s exactly what I had told him, he would get to serve me after we had eaten.

Before dinner though he was curled in a heap, content to just be in my presence and I to have him there, and there is a phrase that gets repeated often by him and he loves to remind me that its true and that curling up at my feet or kneeling there is the basis of it.

Eventually his impatience was rewarded and it was my turn to become a limp contented creature, happy and sleepy and beyond relaxed, falling asleep with him curled around me, nuzzling my neck after he had finished rubbing oils into my skin.