Tag Archives: dominant

Writing to My Sensei

30 Aug

To: Sensei

From: Lucy

12th August

There she was finally knelt before him. Vulnerability cursed her soul, the only way she knew excitement. The body longed for his complete control and he was willing to provide it.

His order came fast. The heart quickened eager to please, the hand in her hair raised her head to look into his eyes. This was the part she disliked most, her eyes were the only part of her that showed desire, need, pleasure and fear; only those truly connected could tell her emotions.

She wished she was blindfolded.

He saw her pleasure and longing for him as he rubbed his dick gently over her lips. Her tongue crept to the edge for just one lick and he allowed her that; twirling around the thickness. She was ready to suck him but he ordered for her to sit up and spread her legs wider ” so I can see all“.

There she was, exposed to him – to be looked at while he tied her up, arms behind her back in the favourite position she knew so well.

In that gleeful moment the tingling hot sensation crept through her veins flowing to her skin her mind free to allow her body to accept his orders, touch and whatever was to be. his touch unfamiliar curved her stomach teasing her inner thigh with his fingers and the feeling of his breath upon her.

She opened her legs further inviting him to join, her eyes focusing on his dick. The cool hands pushed her head down she was not to look, only at the floor.

The fingers of his hands opened to grip the pressure points of her neck. He was now behind her, his dick rubbing against the small of her back his left hand covering her mouth and the right moving in circling movements until he reached her clit, his head bent so he could graze his teeth over her neck. All they had been waiting for had begun…….


Upon his request and much to my reluctance my dearest Sensei requested for me to write  about our first night (as above). Prior to this he had shared via e-mail on what he would think our first night would be like. His writing tantalised my senses, senses I didn’t even know I had. Through the course of several days and three e-mails later he had imprinted vivid thoughts on what it would be like to be alone with him.

Our first night together, over two weeks ago was somewhat different from both of our fantasies but still invigorating enough to have us meet again last week for a brief afternoon encounter. Unfortunately with my work schedule and home life we were unable to meet this week but our souls will be intertwined again on Monday.



Who is sensei?

27 Aug

Sensei = translated from Japanese = “a person born before another” or “teacher“. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sensei

*We are the opposites that attract; he is the dominant I his submissive.

*We are similar to each other; the secret love and special friend we have been waiting for.

*He nurtures my mind, soul and body; holds me when I am afraid but pushes my boundaries as he knows my true desires.

*We speak daily of fears, dreams, knowing parts of each other that no one else was keen to know.

*He binds me in rules but eager for me to fly.

*We are souls reunited with the passion of reading, being outdoors, food and sex.

*He chooses what I wear when I see him, from the underwear to the stockings I am here to please and obey him.

*We leave the outside world behind and in those stolen moments in each others arms we do belong.

*He is tall, educated, a romantic, married and older than I.

*I am not as tall as he, educated in a different way, an unromantic, married to another and younger than he.

*We are opposites.

*We are similar.

*He walks this journey with me, his wife does not know about me.

*I walk this journey with him, my husband does not know about him.

*This affair is like no other.


2 Aug

Stockings are an aspect of her, a drawer dedciated to them.

Nothing beats the tiny thrill of preparing her clothes and opening a gleaming sachet to reveal the stockings she has chosen.

Silky in touch, sometimes clear, sometimes pattern, sometimes plain black…..

She takes care in gliding them over her slender legs, they are merely hold ups – snuggling around the top of her thigh. She feels the clear sticky band take hold of her upper skin leg and there my heart beat quickens. She feels wet by the touch.

The routine is not complete, her bra is next. Usually black or grey with some unique design.. matching her somber but yet playful mood. She does not care for colour only recently adding blue when it was to be someones favourite colour.

Her breasts are in place and she touches the nipples craving for them to be sucked.

Her brazilian thongs always matching the bra snuggles between her ass….fingers, cocks, tongues, fingers, magic bullets and vibrators have all been before. The lace of the thongs highlight her hairlessness, the way she prefers.

To the heels, black patent with a underheel of red. Her naughty side revealed.

She glimpes her reflection in the mirror, she smiles….it does not reveal all.

Her remaining body gets smothered in cream and perfume.

The dress, black and elegant to the knees….snuggling her body to perfection.

Her breasts and ass are highlighted, her slender legs are covered….

She is ready for her master.

Whip me, bite me, eat me, tease me are engraved on the back of the stockings….. (agent provocateurs finest!)



1 Aug

To set the scene,

it’s warm, my windows are open to the garden, I’m watching a butterfly…white and pure; the innocent one of us both.

The trees are not bare, their leaves glistening in various colours. The roses are in full bloom, the sunflowers are standing tall….

my dog is barking, the other is sleeping…

me…I’m tired of the game I play.

The outside world continues and here I am in memories of yesterdays.

I am running to Mr A, we hadn’t seen each other for 2 months. I moved to a “hotter country”, it was after my first year at university and I was spending the summer there. She, me, the mistress, Lucy is running to him. Her long hair is flowing and she jumps on him and he twirls her around. He kisses every part of her face and neck, here for one week they will belong. Him the dominant one, her the submissive….both escaping from reality.

He’s getting married upon his return. “Lucy, just tell me you don’t want me to get married and I won’t”. I never told him I didn’t want him to get married. I left it open with a kiss on his forehead. I wanted him to tell me he didn’t want to get married.

We made love during that week together, a closeness we both spoke about many years after. He bought me a necklace that I still have, cherished with the other moments but the sweetest rawest gifts are the memories….the memories of training me to be his submissive, the spanking but most of all knowing my mind, soul and spirit.

We danced in tune, an odd couple to some I was in the midst of my youth while he was quite and gently older than me.

When we said good-bye after that week I didn’t cry. I knew in my soul part of me would always be with him wherever or whoever he would be. I was right, during that week we celebrate our one year together…9 glorious years was further added, both growing in a space that we never thought would be.

He returned and he married. I heard through friends it was a “beautiful day”…what did I do, I spent the day fucking my boss.

I didn’t see him until October, wearing his gold band…it was different. I was now officially his mistress. I cried with him that day, this man I loved and always would…would never be mine….

I cried more when he died.

I don’t even know if Simon, Mr M…or even my darling husband will ever be able to awaken the soul that has been chipped away.


Out of date……

29 Jul

Out of date......

In time I will be out of date.

The youth I have on my side will be no desire to the men I admire. They will seek a younger model.

The wives of the married men will be safe from my claws but another women will be waiting.

My body will only crave the desire in gleeful moments for the affairs I have grown used to. Instead the body I own will be encased in my husband’s arms I will long to hug me only.

My time will not allow me to talk to the men that have entered and left, I will look back on the moments with shame and guilt when eventually I have children of my own……looking into their eyes and learning them the values and beliefs I so wish I had. I will be a hypocrite.

In time I will be out of date.

The sexualisation I use within my power will not draw these men to me. I will make space in my heart and soul to say good-bye to their lies, deceitfulness and the addiction they so crave. In turn I will say good-bye to that part of me.

The sense of forgiveness to these men will enable me to understand my own faults and crimes for walking with these accomplices, leading the double life but not enjoying the current moment.

My memories will remind me that I never loved any of them, I missed out on the cherished moments with my husband when my mind space was elsewhere.

Although my journey, my life, my adventure will continue in those lonely moments it will remind me of how all the wives felt when their husband, their beloved man spent cherished time with me. It is then my actions will haunt me.

In time I will be out of date to all the men who have cherished me….
You will not crave me…..
You will not want me……
You will not think me…..
You will not need me…..
You will not care for me……
You will have another submissive

Me, I will be out of date, replaced by a newer model for you to have your affair with.


To the lovers I forgot…….

15 Jul

To the lovers I forgot.......

Last night as I curled in bed with my husband’s arms around me, I reflected on the question “Am I sex addict?”

I couldn’t sleep. I wish I could simply blame the glorious heat-wave that has hit our shores here in England….but no my mind recalled the lovers I forgot.

From writing my previous entry, memories of the summer of 2009 came to mind. There in those memories past lovers came to light that I had forgotten about, more evidence to answer yes to the curiosity of my question.

Recalling the picture of me in 2009, I look the same, the innocent one carrying this guilty secret..I’m somewhat younger, less lines around my eyes but everything else is pretty much the same. I look more in control than what I am now though, I seem to be smiling more and less confused. I’m not questioning my behaviour, oblivious to the possibility of being a sex addict. Oh how I would like to go back and experience the summer of 2009.

I was posted to a new city, dating my husband to be – we were in the midst of planning to be married the following year. I saw my husband to be and Mr A on alternative weekends. Then the lovers I have forgotten spring to mind…mostly mid week encounters.

Mr Famous
Mr V
Mr Executive
Mr Younger

I had forgotten them all when typing my previous post.

Here in the new city, the air dampening my lungs I engaged in four affairs. Too important to forget as they like all my lovers created this female that I am. Bringing me new experience and keeping the burning desire of sex alight.

Mr Famous and I met on the aeroplane, his arrogance was insightful. He too was based in the city and I see us laughing during the journey, to then swapping numbers. Our first meeting was at a restaurant, we didn’t sleep together until the second meeting. The first meeting was to tantalise my taste buds on what yet he had to offer. I admired the restaurant and stupidly brought my husband to be there during one of his week-end stays, the waitress recognised me straight away, winked and the paranoia I felt during that meal made me never go back. I’ve since revisited the city to walk past it and see it has closed. Mr Famous had a remarkable body and introduced me to accepting my body as it was. I recall sitting on him during sex, about to orgasm and him saying “This is the most beautiful I have ever seen you, your giving all of you to me”. I never denied one bit of myself to my lovers, only to never love them back. I orgasmed three times that night. We would have sex with the curtains opened, we both knew others could see us and I guess we performed for the eager strangers outside. Maybe we were wishful thinking but yet in those moments with him I felt I belonged. I think he finally found home too and would twist my hair gently around his fingers to fall asleep. Mr Famous was constantly hard and I wonder now, if like me he was addicted to the sex or merely taking Viagra. I don’t know where in the world he is and I daren’t google his name. It ended abruptly when he told me “I think I’m falling for you”. I had my husband and Mr A, I didn’t need another’s love.

Mr V….fell in love with me. Unbeknown to me he was a 35 year old virgin. This saddens me as if I was to know this prior to our encounter I would not have engaged in any sexual intercourse with him. It was too late by the time I fully realised…caught in the act itself. Mr V was broken hearted, he was a romantic and longing for more than I could provide. I recall him cooking for me, his fairytale stores and I smile as he like I was interested in horoscopes. We stopped speaking until we met again in November 2012 for one night, I was visiting the city he worked at and we organised to go out for a meal. I previously thought Mr M had awakened my desire but it was actually Mr V. My brain seems to have a remarkable way of discounting memories, storing them up when I don’t need them and returning forcefully to knock, even me off my feet=. Mr V was much more experienced during our encounter in November 2012. We didn’t have sex but yet I recall the lust and the expertise of his hands. I was possibly not ready / unaware of the sexual urges to follow; they were waiting patiently for Mr M and now whoever is to walk in my path. If out of all my lovers I wish I could have maintained friendship with Mr V. There was somewhat a connection, I fantasise a budding friendship but the barriers were set up when he realised I couldn’t love him.

Mr Executive was a one night stand. He was married and spoke with a strange Australian accent, he only lived in Australia for one month. He Was staying in the city while his family was further north at their family home. Unsurprisingly I ended up at his after meeting him in a bar after work, recall him wanting to have sex without a condom and I being adamant it was the only way. Obviously he wore the condom. Once he was near orgasm I asked him to wank over me…”Are you sure”…of course I was bloody sure, I wanted his “cum” over my face. He was thrilled to watch me beg for it on all fours. We had sex the next morning to then finally lick…I experienced multiple sensations that morning while he held me forcefully on the bed. He hounded me for weeks later for another date. I refused…there was someone else already there to take his place.

Mr Younger….he was a student…20. Wanted a taste of the older women I think. We dated for three weeks..meeting each week day evening. He had this innocent desire to fulfil my every need. I am usually the submissive one but with him I was dominant. I recall his shudders, his yelps and begging for more. Unfortunately he did not satisfy my true yearning and it was time for to move back.

I wonder if like me, these men have forgot about me…or do I sometimes pop into their head? I doubt very much they do recall me, I was a passing stranger that stayed only long enough to have sex. I wish there could be a magical spell, to see what each of previous lovers are doing….or possibly let me see the lovers of my future……..Here I am 4 years after that summer, I have lost Mr A….maybe one day I will write about him…but the 10 years I spent with him, gave myself to him….. will always be celebrated with a smile.

As to the answer….”Am I a sex addict?”…there is mainly evidence pointing that I am. Whatever the answer is to be…I’m still here, with the past playing in the present tense, marking my future….does it matter, for now……..

………Cheers to my lovers and the wonderful memories they have provided.