Tripp and I have sex. It’s fairly vanilla (I mean, as much as having my cock in a metal tube can be considered vanilla) most of the time. There’s kissing and stroking and nipple play and usually some ball play, and maybe the wand, but nothing that either of us will have bruises from. When I was seeing Sir, I was pretty much guaranteed to be sent home bruised and well used. I need that sometimes. Not all the time, mind you, but definitely fairly regularly.
I haven’t seen Sir in a year, and as you know we aren’t Master and slave anymore, but I still need those heavy sessions. Tripp can have a truly wicked sadistic streak, but it usually doesn’t come out on its own. It needs a little coaxing. Tripp doesn’t always get when I need him to dominate me. It’s not natural for him, so we have some cues and rituals that we use. We call it collar time.
As the name implies, it usually involves me being collared. Not with my normal chain collar, but with a thick, heavy leather collar. Sometimes Tripp presents it to me on his own, but more likely than not, I usually kneel in front of him with the collar in my hands for him to lock on me. I’ll usually put on some gear as well for him. I’ll often spend the day or at least a good part of the evening geared and collared, and sometimes bound and gagged.
But it’s his cue to treat me rough. I often get a really good paddling, or maybe a flogging, I’ll get plugged, maybe fucked, and my nips and balls will be sore for days. I mean, he’s dragged me around the house by my balls. It’s heaven for me. When he is really into it as well, he can really do a number on me. He stops being nice for a while. He treats me the way I need to be treated, which is as a toy.
It’s been a little while since we had our last collar time. I’m really needing it. In fact, as soon as I sign off here, I’m going to get one of my collars from the toy drawer and go kneel before my husband.
Take care and stay safe