T and I went to an out-of-state event this past weekend. It was somewhat of an eye-opener on a few different levels.
She had a realization in regard to her title. Since she collared me, she’s had me calling her Mistress. But this weekend, we tried Master instead, and she liked the feel of that more. I like the nonspecific nature (in regard to gender) of “Master”; I’ve always switched back and forth between calling dominant women dommes and doms. They both work. The Master/Mistress thing is similar. I don’t foresee any dominant men wanting to be called “Mistress” anytime soon, but I do like that we as a community are easing towards erasing the need to automatically attach someone’s gender to their bdsm orientation.
Someone shot blow-darts at T. Unfortunately it wasn’t a pygmy ambush in the hallway, as entertaining as that would’ve been. Apparently some people do blow-darts as a form of bdsm, and there was a short class on it. Afterward, anyone who wanted to try could do so. T went up and had about a dozen darts shot at her ass. They had a spanking bench set up where the person being shot could kneel and lean forward, pushing the ass out and backward. There can be a little blood with this, so the people who were facilitating this class asked if I’d pull the darts out and deal with any blood after T was done since we’re fluid-bonded. As I walked up to pull the darts out, T looked back at me, her ass pointing up, and asked, “Are you going to clean me up, slave?” She had a wicked smirk on her face as she said it, and our minds both went elsewhere. (She’s been threatening to make me lick someone else’s cum from her pussy for quite some time now; that’s what was running through both our heads when she said this.) That got me instantly hard. It was a little moment that we shared that no one else caught.
The next morning at the hotel, I awoke to a hand stroking my cock. She’s the best alarm clock ever. After a few minutes, she rolled me on my back and started going down on me. At one point, it didn’t look like my cock for some reason, almost like she was going down on someone else. Maybe it was just from being tired, but I felt a certain physical detachment, and for a few seconds it seemed as if it were someone else’s cock she had in her mouth. As soon as I had that thought, she came up and kissed me. We’d talked before about her sucking someone else off and snowballing his cum with me, and that’s what was going through my head as this was happening (even though I didn’t cum.) That got me even more wound up. My fantasies definitely get more extreme when I’m in chastity, and this is proof.