I didn’t talk much online before my date with Sir last weekend. I didn’t tweet at all during it. And hardly at all after. I wanted to hold it close, completely let go, and enjoy something we haven’t had for months. Time alone together.
My makeup didn’t make it out of our room. We were going to a local play party. Proudly out with Sir. On the streets in my town. Wearing my collar and leash. At least most of the people out on that street were there for the sex store or the adult theater. (Wait. How does that make it any better? *squirms*)
Then we were at the party. I was briefly social and apologized in advance for forgetting their names. I said Sir was going to erase my mind. (There is, of course, that one I can’t forget. “I have a huge crush on him Sir.”)
The only rule was no penetration. (At least there. There was always across the street…)
They didn’t say no cuming.
I was beaten. A lot. There was fighting. There were orgasms. Others enjoyed watching. Others joined in. But I can’t write about that. My mind was elsewhere at the time.
The pain slut was there. I have no control over her at all. I hear she is fun. She will do *anything*. That is where I rely on my complete trust in Sir and his control.
So… *squirms* I think I will leave off there. Some things (most things) from that night are just between us.