The Spinster's Exploits

“And luckily my Established, polyamorous sub-identifying switchy lover is due for a visit this weekend, and our switchy games require no such deep thought and ethical dilemmas – just fun!” – Well – that came back to bite me! I think I got more than singed by him, life, the universe and some amused gods/esses!

So, what was the great feminist plan for the weekend? Seemed simple. I’d not seen my lovely E-P-S-I-S-L for three weeks and was very keen to see him again.

Quick recap – two weekends ago he was off gallivanting and possibly getting a flirting opportunity with the woman he knows in everyday life, who was possibly interested. And that was to be followed by a BDSM event of Dommes and Goddesses with sub servers and worshippers including opportunities for one-on-one action and impact play – including with a Domme who interests him.

He’d had a lovely time at the event and it had left him buzzing. And he had spent time alone with the Domme who interests him. And his flirtation with the every-day-life-woman continues although – like many flirtations – puzzles as much as it progresses in its own sweet way.

We’d arranged to meet the following weekend, but he had a chance to attend a one-off event to do with one of his interests. I wanted him to see me, but realised this was not really reasonable as the event was a one-off. But decided I could use it playfully and channel my frustration. I decided he could pay for his “neglect” by a worshipful weekend of me!

Now for good emotional and practical reasons, we mainly meet at my place. And it really suits us both. It so happens, we are both people pleasers – as well as sneaky control freaks – and we mainly have fabulous fun together whatever we do. But as we meet at mine, I automatically go into hostess role and makes sure I have food and drink in, and house is comfortable. I think of places to go and things to do, change the bed, sometimes dress up, ensure toys are out and anything I can think of for his comfort. And as a people pleaser and someone who really likes him, I’m happy to do so.

But when feeling disappointed and frustrated by extra week apart I came up with idea of him looking after me for a change in my home. So, I decided no cooking, he could change the bed and he could pay for all our meals. He would think of options for my entertainment and eating, and I would choose which I fancied.

And of course, it would be the first seriously hot day of the year that he arrived! I was naked and comfortable. He looked knackered and hot so I offered a cup of tea. He refused on the grounds that he’d not be up to bed-making if he sat down, so went to make the bed. It was only retrospectively, that I realised that by stating such terms he’d made a power move on me! When we were thinking of places to eat, he was telling me which ones didn’t appeal to him – including my favourite – so much for offering me options.

And I know that like the weather, his developing a cold, was not a power move, but the planned weekend sort of went out of the window! I cannot in all conscience do anything but look after a poorly guest, and he is absolutely fabulous when I am unwell, so I donned my invisible hostess with the mostest mantle and my role as Queen of the Lemsip (other cheaper brands also available) with reasonable good grace.

The hot lemon may have had a hidden ingredient as he awoke quite randy on Saturday morning, despite an impressive orgasm the previous afternoon. And the idea of a fuck really appealed to me. He happily obliged. It was excellent if slightly painful – More anon*

Concern for his well-being and not anti-socially spreading his germs meant a rethink for the weekend. The planned visit to a Welsh chat group and attendance of a Welsh language play we’d agreed, gave way to a possible walk and outdoor eating. And once again his “options” were ensuring I knew what HE wanted! I pointed out that this was typical, and I didn’t do it. And he readily acknowledged that he did it and knowingly. So, we bantered about control-freakery, and I decided that while we were both sneaky control freaks I was less controlling than him. And of course, this is my opinion and my blog, but I did get acknowledgement of his “tricks”. I am obsessive about fairness, so I have some ideas to even things up…

And so we had a lovely weekend, but went shopping so I could cook us a Sunday lunch, and had a lovely Chinese take away Saturday night. And, as said, generally a lovely weekend. I didn’t feel I’d been “pampered” however, so that is still to come.

We started Sunday morning with him perkier and my radio 4 fix of Broadcasting House. I cam back from the loo to find him waiting for me with a certain cushion on the bed and a wicked gleam. He decided I needed spanking, but as he was apparently fighting his streak of coercive control, I could choose my implements! I was excited, amused and bemused at this entertaining variation and quite thrown. I like gentler implements for erotic sensation, but a spanking isn’t a spanking without pain, and that wonderful just-about-bearable/please stop/or not… confusion. So, I chose a hairbrush, cane and carpet beater.

He decided that wasn’t enough – so much for “Ladies’ Coice”! I grudgingly picked a few more and he appeared satisfied.

As said before – I am rubbish at identifying what is being used on me, but the narrower range helped. Although I know for a fact I didn’t choose the dreaded nasty, thuddy bath brush, nor the spiteful fucking fly swat – and those I did recognise! “Ladies’ Choice” had obviously gone out of the window, much to the amusement of us both.

I had a fabulous post-spanking orgasm and repaid him with nipple clamps, pin wheel, scratches and bites! For some reason I love biting him and need to be careful not to break his skin.

I’ve a feeling that the power games are going to be an interesting negotiation of our sort-of-relationship and a source of future entertainment.

*I want to talk about painful sex again but not at the moment