I don’t often get instructions about tasks to perform or things to do during my day. Yesterday I got one though. The reasoning, to atone for my feeling of “badgirlness” for skipping work on Monday, was tongue-in-cheek, since he doesn’t do punishment (“I don’t need a reason to do bad things to you”), but the instruction “wear your tit collars every day for a week,” was real enough. The fact that he told me that just knowing I’d be wearing them for him was making him hard, was hot, too, and incentive enough for me.
This morning I was running late (working on my blog post over on APL a little too long this morning) so I brought them with me and had to put them on in the bathroom here at work. See what a good girl I am?
This actually reminds me of one of the first “kinky” things I did, when I first discovered BDSM online. I had a Yahoo personals ad, or maybe one on a different site, that stated that I was new and interested in BDSM. Of course I got a TON of “Doms” wanting to train, enslave, instruct & fuck me. I don’t know why I chose the one I did…probably (as per my usual) he wrote a good letter, with actual punctuation, didn’t tell me to “get on my knees” in the first missive or how he was my Lord & Master–in other words, he came across as a regular human being who just happened to be kinky.
And I was over the moon for him. My first D/s relationship (it was RL as well as online), and I would have done anything for him. He had me wet and panting all day long with instructions and little commands, mostly via email or IM. I hesitate to call the online games “sceneing”, since it was via the computer, but on the other hand I can understand when people do call it that. We were communicating via IM, but he was instructing me on what to do and when and I was obeying him and reporting my actions & reactions back to him. It was very very hot for someone that was new not only to BDSM but to online flirtations.
During one of these times, he instructed me to go to the restroom in my office building and make myself come. At that time, I didn’t always come easily–but when I did, well, let’s just say that I am not a quiet orgasmer. Plus, the restroom was on our floor, but in use by all the offices on the floor, and the stalls were not sealed off little rooms. I could potentially be seen, and definitely be heard, by anyone entering the bathroom. And I had to leave my desk (I was the office admin & receptionist) for as long as it would take to get the deed done.
I hemmed and hawed. I dithered. I asked for a reprieve and begged him to let me do it later, when my being gone from my desk for potentially 20 minutes would not be so obvious. (Later, he spanked me for my impertinence, for not obeying him immediately–and I loved that too. I don’t like real punishment, but that? It was hot. Maybe that is why I am so hot just wearing the tit collars today.) But eventually, as both he and I knew I would, I obeyed. And I had a rocking orgasm, right there in the 7th floor restroom, biting my lip and trying to swallow the little mewling pants coming out of my mouth. And it took about five minutes, I was so worked up. It is still one of the hottest memories I have to this day.
So yes, I like to obey instructions. Which leads me to thinking about this weekend, and other instructions I obeyed, even when I didn’t want to. But more on that later.