Category Archives: Up close & personal

Thoughts – December 11, 2012

I am not going to number these thoughts of mine, I’ll simple add the date of creation.

It is Tuesday and tomorrow the date will be 12.12.12 and it will be the last recurrent date during my life.
Believe me, it is also your last time.
Think about it.

Princess was at my place. We talked a little, we drank some Cava and then I took her to my bedroom and tied Princess to my bed lying on her stomach and I used the bamboo stick she had bought me.

3 Feet of bamboo, the effect on her buttocks depends on where I hold the stick. Holding it at the end, it is as a whip but when I hold it in the middle it is as rigid as a ruler.
She loved the feeling, I loved the sound the wood made on her soft flesh and yet I was holding back. In the end Princess told me she felt she could take a much harder beating and I was aware I wanted to give her that. I didn’t though.

We don’t live together and at her home, with her daughters, they don’t lock the bathroom door. I do not want to confront her kids with the scars I leave on their mom’s buttocks or back. I do not want Princess have to explain to them the unspeakable. So I hold back and fuck, I hate it, as I do want to leave traces on her skin. Princess thanks me for the pain but whispers “Milord, I wanted more, I could have taken much more pain.”

Yet, as her Dominant I must also be a responsible person so I do not want her kids to be troubled nor do I want Princess have to explain what can’t be explained nor understood by teenagers.

Boy do I love the aftercare; when things have been so intense, taking the time to wind down together, this physical affection, to talk over how things went. To be close and to tell Princess how great she has been and to kiss her ever so gently.

I want to mark you, Princess, with my whip and my soul and my love.

Forever, a tattoo, so you can trace it with your fingertips and think of me and feel me close.

You and I, Princess.

Princess cuffed
Princess cuffed

Some thoughts

This evening I was home later than usual due to heavy traffic around Brussels where I work.
Stored the groceries in the fridge and took a quick shower.
Brushed my teeth, got dressed again and went to the living where, to my surprise, Princess was waiting for me.
“I’m hungry”, she told me.
“How much time do we have?”
“25′ or so.”
I sighed. Not enough time to cook and eat and enjoy.
“Will a kiss do as a meal?” I asked.
She smiled and nodded, taking me by the hand, pulling me closer to her.

So we got on the sofa, cuddled, kissed and talked. And kissed some more.
“Is it my imagination or have we grown even more closer these last few months?” I asked Princess.
“You are much calmer, more self-confident and the trust we now have in each other has a very positive impact on our relation, yes. And the playing has helped in a very positive way.”
We kissed some more and then, suddenly, our time was up.
“Love you”, Princess told me. I could read it in her eyes, taste it on her lips too.
Then she was gone.

A few minutes later the doorbell rang. Big A. with her laptop I had given her a few years ago. It was broken but big A. hoped I could access her files in some way or another as she was desperately looking for some images of her dear friend who passed away in a car crash yesterday.

Used a screwdriver to open the laptop and got the hard disk out. Connected it to my iMac, I have a kit to connect hard drives.
There were her folders. She browsed and browsed through them but with no result. No photographs of her former boyfriend.
“Guess I deleted them when we broke up,” she said. “Hell, if I had known.”
“We never do,” I told her, “and that is a good thing. Life would be unbearable if we knew the expiration date of those we love and care for.”
“Sure dad”, she answered and I felt she didn’t understand what I had just told her.
She gave me a kiss on my cheek.
Then she was gone too.

I had a whole evening to myself.

Well not entirely as I’m reading Sophie Morgans “Diary of a Submissive: A Modern True Tale of Sexual Awakening” and I must say I enjoy this book very much.

Encounter with the past

When I was 19 I started my second year in Art School where I was following photography.
A newcomer in the first year, Anna C., became my first girlfriend.
Her parents were very rich, owning a Jaguar and a Porsche and Anna had a horse. Her father, a CEO, disliked me but tolerated my presence; her mother was a very good cook

Anna had a small face buried in lots of black hair and what was left was hidden behind big and thick glasses. We never did much, sexually speaking. A lot of kissing, a few occasional fondling with her breasts and I remember fingering twice. She never played with me, never showed any interest in my body. What I do remember though, on a few occasions, while grooming her horse with a currycomb, the animal got an erection and she liked to caress it.
When I left school we broke up and I never saw her again.

Slowly my memories of Anna C. got buried under dust and finally she disappeared completely out of my mind.

Now more than 3 decades have gone by since we said goodbye for the last time.

Some six months ago I got a Facebook friend request from Fred C. living in the same village were Anna used to live. There was no photograph attached to his profile.
I remembered Anna having a sister, no brother though and the name Fred didn’t ring a bell. I didn’t accept nor reject the invitation, just waited to see what would happen next.

Fred finally sent me a private message. I replied and got a long answer back.
Apparently Anna got married and gave birth twice, a boy and a girl. Anna wrote me how over the years she had come to struggle more and more with her sexual identity and decided to undergo complete transgender surgery. It had been hard, difficult and painful but he felt happy now and his kids had accepted him and his partner had stayed faithfully at his side.
Wow I thought. And that was all I could say or think.

Two weeks ago I took Little A., my youngest daughter, to the annual Antwerp Book fair.
She was browsing through some books; I was waiting patiently when suddenly I heard my name called.
“Franco? Franco, is that really you?”
I turned around and did not recognize the middle-aged man standing in front of me. He was getting bald and had a long grey beard and behind small glasses his eyes were shining joyfully.
Automatically I shook his hand.
“I’m Fred,” he said, “and it is so nice to see you again.”

I’m known to be very to the point, and it is hard to sweep me from my feet, but boy, I was standing there as if I had been frozen. I didn’t know what to say or where to look. It felt awkward, uncanny, strange, unsettling.

Finally I met his eyes and saw Anna in them.
“What a surprise,” I said and that was it and we where left with some minutes of painful silence.

We said once again goodbye and I watched him walk away still feeling completely flabbergasted.

Little A. brought me back to reality.
“Who was that?”
“My first love,” I told her.

Her jaw felt open, her eyes almost popped out of her head and I could almost see her thinking, my father!!! With a MAN?

I smiled and told my 12-year old daughter in a few words the story. She nodded, didn’t say much, just accepting it.

We enjoyed a pleasant afternoon, Little A. and I, although I was unable to wipe this encounter away and my minds eye focused all the time on Fred’s face.

Don’t get me wrong on this. I am really very broad-minded and accept almost everything. People are all different and this versatility is fascinating. I do no judge or condemn people. I’m happy Anna found a solution, that she is happy and that her close relatives didn’t let her/him go.
Yet, seeing your first sweetheart back as a man, it felt so strange.

Later that evening Princess dropped by and she noticed that I was feeling uneasy. I told her about my brief encounter, she already knew the rest of the story.

Princess took me in her arms and softly blew away my unpleasant thoughts.

Sexus, Nexus

Princess arrived late at my place this Wednesday morning. Usually she drops her youngest kid at school, comes over to my place, lets herself in and sneaks into my bed. This happens usually around 8:35 am or so.

It was 10 past 10 and I was writing when I heard her knocking at my door. Then she came in.

“Hi “, she said, “sorry I’m so late, hell, I broke all the speed limits to get her a.s.a.p.”
“Never ever do that again”, I replied. “You’ll win 40 seconds or so, it isn’t worth it.”
Took her in my arms, we kissed, I looked in her eyes, so beautiful, felt an urge to cry, Princess is so kind, so loving, so gentle with me, so understanding.
Sometimes I think I must have died without knowing it and now I have my personal angel looking after me.

“Sorry”, she said again, “we don’t have much time.”

I gently caressed her cheek; she closed her eyes, loving my soft touches.
“Let’s go to bed,” I whispered.
“Yes, please,” she murmured.
So we did.
We got undressed, skin on skin, such a wonderful feeling. Kissing like made, our hands everywhere.

Soon her tongue was playing with my nipples, then going down, taking it all in, enjoying it, playful and so much variation. It was maddening.
Guess she felt I was getting there so she stopped, sat on me, offering me her breasts, then suddenly, her pussy was hovering above my mouth. O boy, she was soaking wet and she tasted so good.
Turned her on her back, mounted her in one single movement, violently, Princess loves it that way. Teasing her with rapid and deep movements, then just letting my gland enter.
After a while we heard the sopping sounds, she was now really wet.
“Lick me”, she demanded.
“Yes ma’am.”
Went down on her, Princess is so delicious.
Finished her off with two fingers and a tongue that was everywhere.
“Oh boy,” she sighed when I took her in my arms.
I caressed her for a while.
Then her tongue was on my nipples again.
“Play with yourself,” she groaned.
A few moments later I was ready to explode, she felt it, sensed it, her mouth was at the right place when I finally unloaded and she got it all.
Kissed me afterwards, Princess hadn’t swallowed it all.
Tasted my semen in her mouth and almost came a second time.

Ten minutes later we had some tea. We had made love for almost an hour and a half, a quickie to our standards. And for the first time in weeks we had experienced 100% vanilla sex. No nipple squeezing or hair pulling (me) or scratching my skin until I bleed (she).
Just plain everyday vanilla sex and it had been great. Well kind of.

Then Princess left, she had to pick up her kid at school.

I put one some clothes, made a few phone calls and left home shortly after.
Forty minutes later I slid my Visa card in a machine and tapped my security code. The terminal beeped happily.
“Here you are, Sir,” the guy said. “You have a standard 2 year warranty.”
“Thank you,” I replied and left the store with a Google Nexus 7, 32 Gb. version.

Shopping pleasure

I love to shop for ordinary everyday stuff, wandering around, letting my fantasy lead me. There is so much one can use to play with.

What did I find today? Well, first I wanted to surprise Princess with a new whip. This I found in our local horse shop.
A small brush and a wooden spatula seemed useful too.
Then I visited a fishing store and bought some weights I will be painting red with nail varnish.

A weight will be attached to a clothespin using elastic bands so they can go up and down. These clothespins will be pinched on Princesses labia and then she can move around the house.

Looking back

Inspired by a blog post I read this morning I tried to find out what made me become what I am, a Dom.

I had a very happy childhood and I can’t remember any fight or even quarrel between my parents. My father worked, my mother stayed at home, it was all very traditional. They were middle-aged and I was born about 8 months after their marriage.

My father was strict but not severe and he fuelled my imagination by telling me stories, encouraging me to read as much as possible and to discover my inner fantasies. Without being presumptuous I guess he made an intellectual out of me.

I remember my mother sitting in her armchair and I, at her feet, 4 years old or so, playing with her legs, enjoying the silky feel of her nylons.
One day I sneaked in their bedroom and in the chest of drawers I found a catalogue of an exposition they had gone to. I must have been 5 or 6 because my sister wasn’t born yet.

I leafed through the book with paintings by the Belgian surrealist Paul Delvaux. I saw completely naked women with strange, big and black triangles between their legs. Men sharply dressed in weird settings. It were these dark triangles that tickled my imagination most and that I think it is the reason why I’m more a pussy man than a breast lover.

Nothing else happened and my sexuality developed in a normal way.
Shortly after my 13th birthday my father passed away, aged 64 and it felt as I had been amputated as he was my god, my teacher. The pain loosing him has never ever left me.

When I was 16 I saw the French movie The Story of O. I’d seen sex movies before but this film was a revelation and I was really excited about it, reviewing the bondage scenes over and over in my head.

After a few relations I got married at 30, and divorced her 16 years later. The sex had always been good, but it never felt that special to me. With neither of the women I come to think of. It never felt complete; it was never overwhelming, hell, it was just plain boring vanilla sex.

I have a collection of art books about fetish and bondage photography and yet I never added domination in my sex life. It never felt okay, not that I was afraid showing myself as a Dom. None of the ladies inspired me enough to be what I secretly wanted to be.

Then I met L. and boy, she was the one I had been waiting for all of my life. I had finally found my Holy Grail and it had been a very long quest.