Thursday, March 31, 2016

Picture Fiction

One of our "regular" features (and regular is in quotes because it's been a really long time since we've done this) is something we like to call Picture Fiction. We take a photo(s) and then each write distinct stories around the pics. Enjoy!

A Messy Welcome A Warm Welcome
He walked in the door to the flat and nearly tripped over the coat on the floor. Carefully stepping over it his foot landed on a pair bright purple galoshes, causing him to turn his ankle. He righted himself before he really sprained it and proceeded through the entry and into the living room, noting a pile of mail dropped on a side table, a scarf flung over the back of an armchair, and a purse lying on the seat of the same chair.

He heard the shower running and he chose to ignore it and walked into the kitchen. There were more remnants of her journey through the home, things scattered everywhere. He raised an eyebrow as he surveyed the trail she had left behind. He walked into the bedroom and pulled out a hairbrush and his nanny paddle, carefully setting them on the side of the bed.

Then he turned to the bathroom and marched in, watching her bathe in the steamy heat of the water cascading across her curves. He flung open the glass door and turned off the water. "Wha...?" she murmured, thinking something had gone wrong with the plumbing. She was shocked to see him standing there. He grabbed her ear and pulled her from the shower, dripping water all across the bathroom floor. "What's going on?" She was surprised and puzzled.
She was waiting by the door for him to come home from work. She wore nothing but a pair of fuzzy socks, not enough to keep her nipples from tightening into hard nubs. She knelt on the cold tile, arms stretched out in front of her. Waiting like this brought a quiet peace to her soul.

She heard the garage door open. She heard his footsteps to the door. She heard him step inside. And she heard him set his briefcase on the floor. Then she heard silence, broken only by his quiet sigh as he took in the sight of her.

“You may rise,” he said, just loud enough for her to hear.

She unfolded herself and pushed herself to her feet. She looked up at him, a smile playing on her lips.

“It is my greatest pleasure to see you, sir.” She spoke the required words earnestly.

“Mmm,” he pulled her into a hug and kissed her hard as a response.

“Put your hands here.” He ordered, placing her hands on the counter and pulling her bottom out toward him. He began smacking her bottom hard with his hand.
"Come with me," he said, pulling her along, wet footprints showing their path through the house. "What's all this then?" He gestured at the coat, rain boots, scarf, mail, and all the other things that has cascaded from her as she had made her way through the house.

"What? I was freezing!" she sputtered. "It was pouring! I was so cold!" He dragged her into the kitchen to survey the rest of the flotsam of her journey around the abode. The look on her face soon reflected the acknowledgement she perhaps hadn't been thinking about the ramifications of her actions...or their agreement that her typical behavior of tossing things wherever she wished wasn't going to fly now that they lived together. "I see," she said finally.

"Come with me," he repeated, continuing to pull her by the ear and back into the bathroom, walking across the wet spots on the floor from their trek around the flat. With widening eyes she saw the hairbrush and paddle on the bed.

"I'm sorry!" she cried, before he had even shoved her wet head toward the bed to bend her over to begin her punishment.

"You will be."
She didn’t protest the unexpected spanking. If anything, she reveled in it. The sharpness soon faded into the warm, wonderful sensation she loved.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” he growled. He pulled her up and grabbed her arm. Without another word, he propelled her into their bedroom.

“I think the hairbrush should do the trick,” he said. “Get over the bed.”

He removed the hairbrush from the bedside table and moved to her side.

“And if it doesn’t,” he threatened, “I have plenty of other implements to try this evening.”

Although she was no longer cold, she shivered at his words. This could be a long evening. But it was certain to be an amazing one.

Thursday, March 10, 2016

Silent Scene Redux

Lizzie had relatives come to town for a week, staying with us. It required us to fall back on some wily ways...

It's been so long since Lizzie or I had to worry about anyone being in the house when we wanted to play. That used to be the case when my family lived with us, forcing us to steal away for what we dubbed "Silent Scenes." You can read about them HERE. We also got very good at taking advantage of moments when we found ourselves alone...which didn't happen often.

We found ourselves in a similar situation last week when Lizzie had family in town visiting us and staying at our home...so play of any sort—let alone her calling me "Daddy," serving my my coffee in our ritualistic way, and other typical signs of our D/s—were put on hold.
It feels like this year has been dominated by travel and visitors, both things that put a serious damper on our play. But even with a full house, we were able to find a couple opportunities to play this last week.

With my family staying at our house, we had to limit our scenes to our old methods - “silent scenes” and “stolen moments”.

One night, we snuck away to our bedroom for a quick, silent caning. I’d forgotten just how hard it is to keep silent when Craig is caning me. We can hardly have a “silent” scene if I yelp with every stroke! But I managed and we enjoyed the brief, stolen moment.
Last Sunday for example Lizzie's family wanted to go to a local Sunday service near us to experience a church away from their hometown. I dropped them off and booked it back home, rushing in the door to grab Lizzie and say, "pull off those sweat pants." I took her across my knee on the sofa to give her quite the spanking.

"What's that all about?" she said breathlessly. "Your visitors aren't here, of course!" It was a lovely spanking. (I know I enjoyed it.)

But earlier in the week I was in the mood for a caning (giving, of course!). We went to the bedroom ostensibly for me to change out of my work clothes, but once we got to the bedroom I instructed Lizzie to grab a cane. She pulled one out and I had her pull down her panties.

It's funny how quickly we adapt, us humans. For almost 30 years I've had my kids living in my house (and occasionally grandkid). Now, less than three years later I've gotten so used to life with just Lizzie and I at home that the idea of "sneaking around" and doing Silent Scenes seemed the oddity rather than the norm.

It was nice to have visitors, but it's nicer to be able to smack Lizzie whenever I like. I'm certain Lizzie feels the same way, too. ;-)
For our second scene, we waited until my family was away. Craig took advantage of the empty house to pull me over his knee and give me a long OTK spanking. I wish we'd gotten a picture after it, but this second picture of the caning will have to do: