5th January 2011
OMG, it is Wednesday again. How do I make the time stop? There MUST be a way of slowing it down. Why does it rush by so quickly when we are together? I can’t believe that in only a few short days he will be gone again. Just writing those words makes my hands shake and I can feel the tears threatening to start.
I know I haven’t posted here much, I suspect you thought I had abandoned you all, well maybe I had, but only temporarily. Sometimes there is just not enough time to write all the things I want to say, so I have stored them up and hope to share some of them with you over the next few weeks. Our time together is so incredibly precious that for once the blog has had to wait.
We went to London yesterday to meet the Queen, well that was his story and he seemed to be sticking to it. Unfortunately she didn’t seem to be expecting us, and so even though the Royal Standard was flying high over Buckingham Palace, which indicates she is in residence, we never did get to have tea with her. There was brief talk of storming the gate but the rather mean and well armed soldiers finally managed to make him realise that ‘whatsherface’ was just not going to have tea with him, well not today anyway.
As well as the palace we went to Trafalgar Square and climbed on the lions and admired Nelsons very spectacular column, before taking in the House of Parliament, Downing Street, Whitehall, The Cenotaph, the Horse guard’s cavalry and finally onto Covent Garden.
Covent Garden is the site of what used to be the flower market in central London, it is now a trendy and fairly expensive covered market that houses many designer name boutiques, along with some slightly more upmarket high street brands, an array of cafes and restaurants but it is probably most well known for its thriving street performing artists. There is always a strange mixture of comediennes, acrobats, jugglers and often performers doing a mixture of all 3, but in one of the basements courtyards they always have musicians, usually string and sometimes singers too but yesterday it was just a string quartet. They had amassed quite an audience by the time we descended the stairs behind them to go and look in one of the shops near where they were performing.
Of course really I should have seen it coming, it is just the sort of thing he would do, but as we came out the shop the next thing I know I was being dragged towards the musicians and I knew it was not to stand and watch, after a brief struggle under the stairs he had a firm grip around my waist and hand and I was soon being whisked around and yes, out in front of the musicians to be twirled and whirled around. Luckily this is London, and people are used to insanity popping up all round them and we were soon greeted with a lovely round of applause by the audience and a ‘thank you’ from the quartet. I guess two madly in love people dancing very badly to their performance only helps to bring in more audience for them.
I wish we had a picture of that moment, it will be one I remember with joy and fondness for a very long time, oh, but the crowning glory was, when we stopped dancing, finding my son hiding beneath the stairs, bright red in the face and being told by him, “I am soooooo not with you two”. The funny thing is, that he so was with us, as was my daughter and we laughed and giggled and ‘played’ all the way home.
So if you were in London yesterday and you saw a woman spread eagled beneath the Trafalgar Square lions, squirming in her jeans then that was me and if you were wondering why she was squirming it was because yesterday morning she was woken by having her wrists shackled behind her back.
I still had some punishments owing me and he had warned me the night before that in the morning he would be reminding me about my missed tasks. Waking up to having the wrists cuffs put on caused a bit of a struggle, which I have come to learn is always a mistake but sometimes I just can’t help myself. The struggling only results in Him being more determined to get me how he wants me and this was no exception. Within moments I had my wrists cuffed behind my back and with his hand around my neck he was whispering into me ear
“Are you going to be a good girl now, or do I need to tie you down and gag you too”
Of course words like that just make me throb and ache for His touch between my thighs but I lay still and waited for Him to choose His punishment. Kneeling beside me he traced the end of the whip down over my back, across my bottom and the back of my legs. I lay quivering, the anticipation making me moan and then crack, crack, crack. The sound of the whip travelling through the air and the resulting sting on my flesh as he punishes me had me burying my head in the pillow. I want to be good, I want to lay still and take it, but the whip always makes me writher and dance. Twisting and turning my body to escape the touch of the whip.
“I am not finished yet Slut, lay still or I will tie you”
With his free hand firmly placed on the small of my back he flipped the whip around and used the handle to finish of the job. The stinging sharp bite of the end turning into bruising thuds as he made me count the remaining strikes until we reached 10.
By the time he had finished with me I was well aware of what the consequences of missing my tasks would be in the future as this punishment was billed as “just a taste of what I would get next time if failed to do them”
In case you’re wondering, even though I was wet and throbbing, he left me like that for the rest of the day. He likes to leave me like that, wanting more, needing His touch, sensitive and sore. It serves as a constant reminder to me of my place and that I belong to Him.
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