Intimacy and BDSM

The first time my little pet told me he loved me was not during a romantic candlelit dinner.

It was not in front of the fire, drinking champagne, or even during a lovemaking session.
The first time my pet told me he loved me, I had been alternately teasing and torturing him for a couple of hours.

 

I had his cock and balls hard as a rock, and tied tightly so that they were purplish blue.

I would put rubber bands under the head of his cock, and snap them for a while, then take them off, and then lick and suck on his balls, inserting a finger up his as I did so…. Then spanking his balls with a flyswatter. And then licking and kissing all over him and putting his cock up inside me while I masturbated, and then sucked the pussy juice off. Then ice on the balls. And so on.

At the point he told me he loved me, I was just about to drip hot wax all over his cock and balls, cool it to hardness with ice, and then flog it off.

At the moment  he said it, I was surprised. Then I realized that he and I had been more intimate with each other this afternoon than we had ever been before. Something in our minds had clicked and melded together.

I am by no means an expert on D&s. I just do it for fun, and on the phone for profit :P . But the most intimate relationships that I have had have been D&s ones.

There is something about getting inside another person’s head, and finding out what makes him tick, and then taking those fetishes and limits and transforming them and pushing them, so that he finds out new things about what he likes and what gets him going.

And he has to put his complete trust in me as well. Not an easy thing for a trial lawyer who is a barracuda in the courtroom.

And usually I find out new things about myself at the same time, like my capacity for love, and for  nurturing that trust.

By the way, when he told me he loved me, I said “I know” with a smile. And I did.

Mmmmm, Pantyhose….

With the weather so nice, I love to wear little short dresses out and about, especially with fuck-me heels.

It’s great to walk into a store or down the street and see men turn their heads to get a better look at me.

And then I love to go to a coffee shop like the one in Powell’s on Burnside, and sit and type on my laptop just like I’m doing right now….

I love to cross my legs and let a pump just dangle from my foot. And then jiggle….

Lady Sascha in Pantyhose

Lady Sascha in Pantyhose

Men tend to get this deer-in-the-headlight look when I do that. It’s like time just sort of stops for them… they want that pump to jiggle down to my toes and possibly even fall off, but they love to watch the action of my legs, so toned and sleek from dancing, and my foot, arched deliciously and flexing up and down, and …. jiggling.

Then they start walking by my table, trying to find out how much leg they can see… By this time, My dress is up at least to mid-thigh, and the smoothness of my thighs as one is pressed up against the other, and the roundness of my butt, as my dress wrinkles around it..

What they really would like, I think, is to be lying on the floor, my panty-hosed toes in their mouths, looking up the length of my leg, up my dress, seeing my nice round ass in the shadows.

Ah, yes….  the promised land.

Well my coffee break is over now, and I have my own little slaves at home to torture. If these guys only knew… :P