Without You

My princess is gone.

Seven months ago I confronted her because a mutual friend was surprised when I told her how in love I was and how I wanted to marry my girl. She was surprised because she was told we had broken up. And we had, nearly a year before we had split, and then gotten back together. So I corrected her and told her about the plans we were making to be together.

The next morning I went on Fetlife to send a note to my girl. I had seen her just a few days before on the day before Valentines, we had a huge family dinner together and I had kissed her and told her I loved her. She had told me she loved me too, and called me her girlfriend. She also whispered in my ear how horny she was.

Imagine my surprise at learning she had removed me from Fetlife. I sent her a text message saying simply, "Did we break up?" I was truly surprised and could recall nothing about this happening. Last I knew we were part of a happy family together.

It took awhile to find out from her that she had broken up with me on the day after Boxing Day. The day after I had a fairly major car accident. And she never said "I am breaking up with you." Instead telling me that she, "Was removing everyone from Fetlife." Ok, no biggie I remember thinking that Fetlife is sort of ridiculous at the best of times so I didn't care to much. This wasn't ending our relationship, she just wanted to have more freedom on the site. That was fine, I hardly could be bothered to even look at the site. And honestly, when she said "Everyone" I didn't really think that included me. I mean, she is my princess, we are committed, we have a future.

I was wrong I guess..

She broke up with me only one week after I helped her sort out her budget and loaned her money (and gave her a large sum) for a car. One week. She had to know. We spent so much time together in that week and I provided her with emotional and financial support. Because I believed we had a future together... and she already knew it was over.

The fact that this was her breaking up with me didn't occur to me until that friend mentioned it over two months later.

I spent much of the morning in my work bathroom stall, texting her and crying my eyes out. I was heartbroken. I had been working so hard towards our future together. I had prepped the man in my life, I had prepped my children for our upcoming marriage. I had taken steps to advance my career and myself as a person. I had helped her to set her feet on the path that would lead to our eventual cohabitation and marriage.

I was crushed. Devastated, and an absolute puddle on the floor.

Anger came next, how dare she be so fucking passive in her break up with me. How dare she not realize that I hadn't understood that day in the car, when I took her in my arms, held her, kissed her, told her I loved her. You don't do that when you break up with someone. You just don't accept their affection and listen to them tell you that you are loved. You don't do it.

She did it..

She gave zero indication that we had broken up.. In fact we spent more time together in that two months than we had in the previous two. Despite me now working on getting my Bachelors, and being so busy with everything else. I made up reasons to spend time with her. I just wanted to be with her...

She lied. This is what it comes down to. She lied, she pretended and she manipulated me. She lied, and my trust is still suffering for it in my other relationships. She lied, every time she touched me, looked at me, spoke to me.

She lied.

I still don't get it. It has been so hard these last seven months, getting over her. She did things that made it impossible for me to forget about her. She is still dependent on me even now. She made it nearly impossible for me to move on, for 18 months. I still have 10 months to go until she is completely out of my life.

She has moved on, part of me is glad she is someone else's problem. I hope they don't end up like I have.

I have learned a few very important things about all this.

I won't get involved with another person who can't manage their own money. And I won't be involved with anyone who dodges the tax man, or who has so many creditors chasing her that she has to call screen. Or who refuses to take responsibility for their own actions. Or has so many phobias and hang ups that they even affect the choices I have to make in the colour of car I drive.

No thanks.

Give me a strong confident partner who knows who they are and what they want. Someone who wants a life companion, not a crutch for their wasted life.

Moving right along now..

The Interlude

A playmate recently asked me to escape the city with him. He is a masochist and I quickly enjoyed assigning him with the task of whisking me away somewhere. I told him he had to make all the plans, he had to do all the driving and he had to keep in all to himself.

I wanted to relax, and I knew the best way was to give him an assignment so that I didn't need to set this scene. It worked marvelously.

He told me what clothes I would need, and how many days we would be gone. I took it upon myself to add in a large portion of my toy closet. And all the things he would need to pamper me.

He arrived to pack up the car on the day of our departure. I handed him two bags and hopped in the car.

We drove up the northern coastal route to the ferry terminal. Crossed to the other side and disappeared into the woods.

He had arranged for us to stay in a luxurious two bedroom cabin in the woods. It was beautiful, serene, and relaxing.

He brings the bags in from the car and I direct him to unpack the toy bag and hang up the floggers. Setting the tone for our weekend.

He left to go to the store as he had forgotten something, and I ran myself a hot bath. Setting out soap, and exfoliating mitt and shampoo.

I climbed into the tub and awaited his return.

I heard him return and I called out for him to enter the bathroom.

He seemed mildly nervous and kept chattering about things, that I honestly can't remember now.

"Take that glove, get it wet, add soap, and start scrubbing my feet," I interrupted him. I didn't tell him to undress.

He knelt by the tub and pulled his shirt off. I admired his form as he donned the glove and lathered up.

He began scrubbing my feet in soft rubs, I instructed him to press harder, and then harder again. Finally I had him at the right pressure.

I lay back in the hot water and closed my eyes, relaxing and reveling in the bliss of being pampered. I made him scrub my toes and in between them, getting rather demanding at one point. "Make sure you get in the creases," it felt like he was scratching an itch I never bother to scratch.

I allowed him to progress slowly up my legs, making him pay attention to my knees. Then at the top of my thigh I stopped him and held out my hand. "Do it the same as you did my feet."

He is very skilled at massage and he showed it as he soaped and scrubbed every bit of my hands, fingers and wrists. Slowly he worked up my forearms, rubbing at my elbows, and up my upper arm.

I was completely relaxed by this point, and started just pointing to where I wanted him to go.

He scrubbed my throat and the back of my neck, then worked along my collar bone. The glove was rough and providing just enough stimulation to make me tingle all over. He soaped up my chest and scrubbed my breasts, I directed him away from my nipples. He scrubbed my tummy and then my mound.

I grabbed his hand at this point and pressed his fingers to my vulva, humping his hand a bit and feeling his fingers slide the rough cloth between my lips. My pussy is completely smooth and hairless having been waxed only the day before. It is sensitive to the touch and while I feel the desire to cum, I don't want to reward him with my orgasm yet.

I pull his hand away and direct him to scrub the other parts of my body while I lay back and breathe deeply, serenity washing through me.

He finishes scrubbing every bit he can of my front. I kneel and have him scrub my back, and my ass. My round cheeks growing warm under his attentions.

I stand and turn on the shower to rinse all the soap off.

When I emerge he hands me my towel and I dry off. I could have him dry me but I feel no need for this, and his subservient side seems oddly repressed.

I step to the sink, brush my teeth and put on lotion.

I tell him to take a shower, which he declines. (Showing me he is not feeling submissive at all)

I dress in a sheer coverup and curl up on one couch with my book. He settles into the other couch with his book. We spend the evening in companionable silence, it feels good to relax with nothing to do and no expectations.

The next day we go for a drive and do some tourist type shopping. I find some music I think will be good in a scene and buy it. We return to our cabin for dinner and tuck in a great meal.

We retire to our couches again to read. I can feel him watching me, I know he is waiting. I wait until it is full dark before I tell him to get up and bring out the toys.

He lays all the toys out, floggers, crops, canes, clips, clamps, bands, cock leash, carpet beater, paddles, electric swatter, a knife, wartenberg wheels, other sharp instruments, and so many more items I forget them all now.

He strips naked, and I instruct him how to adjust the doors and lighting. I am concerned about sound carrying so I have him standing in one doorway, facing into a room with closed doors and windows. Hopefully that will muffle his screams.

I ask him if anything is new for him physically and he says no, we review his hard limits briefly.

I proceed to inflict a great amount of pain on him in the next 3 hours.

I begin by running my hands all over his body. I have just cut my nails and they are short and sharp. I scratch him as a test and he gasps, much to my delight. I duck under his raised arm that is braced on the door frame. Standing in front of him, I drag my nails alone his ribcage and seize the flesh that it pulled tight over the ribs. Squeezing his skin in my fingernail and listening to him whimper as I roll the flesh and pinch him.

I tease him about his squirming and moaning. Ducking under his arm again I start spanking him with my bare hand. I laugh,"I don't feel like hurting my hands tonight." I tell him and pick up a small rounded paddle the size of the palm of my hand.

His screams are quite loud, in an effort to muffle them I place two tight clamps on his nipples and give him the chain to hold in his mouth. "Don't drop the chain, and don't pull them off," is my stern instruction. He is reduced to muffled groans of agreement.

I proceed to swat his ass with the paddle under it is reddish purple and swelling. Then I move down his thighs and to his inner thighs.

I come around to the front of him, my paddle in hand. I tell him to let go of the chain, and I yank the clamps off. He yells out loudly, and I tease him about exaggerating. I then start rolling and twisting his nipples in my fingers. This elicits screams and curses and a funny little dance. I raise my paddle and beat on his nipples with it. He is crying out and squirming trying not to cover his nipples in his hands. I drag my nails across his belly and return to his behind.

Next come the floggers, I swing three different floggers at him until I come to the rubber flogger. This is my old friend, this flogger is well used and well loved.

I start teasing him with it. Windmilling it so just the tips brush his ass and his back. Slowly moving forward and twisting so I am now striking at him off my shoulder. Back, forth, up, down.

I know his mind must be whirling by now so I let him rest in a small lull as I line up the canes.

I run my hands over his bum, feeling the heat and hearing him groan. I dig my nails into the flesh of his ass. He yelps and I giggle in his ear.

"Oops! I drew blood! Good thing that isn't a hard limit!" I tease him again laughing and grabbing my bamboo cane.

I start hitting him with the cane across his ass, his blood is spattering and quickly coats the cane. It makes me laugh and I show it to him. He is screaming out with every stroke now and I grab a rolled up sock and stuff it in his mouth. "Drop it and the scene is over," I warn him sternly before continuing on.

The cane is fully blooded but only one cheek is actually bleeding so I start focusing my attention on the other cheek trying to break the skin with the cane. It won't break. Not discouraged (I know his ass will bleed soon enough) I tell him to spread his legs.

I find it delicious to torture the inside of thighs. You just never can inflict enough pain there as far as I am concerned.

I start caning the inside of his thighs. I stop one to poke his balls with my cane, "Behave and they will have their turn!" He groans and then starts shrieking again as I beat his thighs some more.

I throw down the cane and pick up my most flexible crop. It stings like a bitch and I know it. I begin laying into him with it. The shrieks change in pitch slightly and I know I just pushed him off another edge.

A wicked laugh begins bubbling out of me, as I chant at him in a singsong voice. I can't remember what the taunt was but oh my it made him blush!

The poor man's ass is a lovely deep red now and the slightest touch is causing him to squirm and moan. I have broken skin on both sides, as I intended and the blood has welled up and clotted.

I grab my lobster fork and start scratching all down his back, and over his thighs, and very red ass. He is shrieking again, when I stop and tell him to turn around. I scratch his nipples, his belly and the front of his thighs.

I slip my knife out of its holster. Our play turns to fear and a mind fuck as I trail the point of my knife over his skin. Goosebumps form and I tell him in my most serious voice. "Do NOT move." My breathing is harsh in my own ears, my knife makes me wet and hot. I move the point over his cock and threaten to circumcise him again. I hear myself laughing at his whimpers.

I tell him to grab his towel and lay on the couch.

I go to the kitchen, grabbing a kitchen chair and two wooden skewers. Glancing at the time I see two hours has passed.

I place the chair in front of the couch, grab bags of clothespins and wartenberg wheels, a lobster fork and my knife.

I ask how he is feeling and he seems calm and lucid. "All the other things I have done to you so far, have just been warm up, now I am really going to hurt you." He swallows and nods his head, his eyes not leaving mine.

I grab a bag with small clothespins in it. These are memo clips and they are small, plastic and extremely tight. They can cause nerve damage if you leave them on the long. These clips can be dangerous. He knows it and so do I.

I place a few clips at the inside top of his thigh, his breathing immediately changes and he begins to whimper. Watching him closely I place a clip on his sac. His breathing goes ragged and the noises get higher in pitch. I place two more and wiggle them. He is shrieking again. I place two more going around the outside of his sack. His shrieks are sounding panicked. I stop and look at him, leaning back in my chair.

He is blowing his breath through his cheeks and the fear is still present in his eyes. I touch one of the clips and he whimpers that he can't take it.

I know this man, this is not normal for him to say these words, during a scene or at any other time.

As gently and quickly as possible I remove the clips. He gasps with each one and I know he is trying to process the overload.

I remove all the clips and put them back in the bag. I inspect the area where they were carefully and make sure they didn't leave any damage. I place my hand on his tummy and wait for him to calm down.

He didn't safeword. He was alright to continue.

I pick up the skewers and begin again. I poke at him and scratch him and then I start whipping him with them, bending the skewers in my hands and releasing them into his flesh like mini catapults.

He hates it and loves it, squirming and saying, "Oh God!" over and over again. Despite telling him I didn't think his God could hear him. Soon it changed to him saying Goddess over and over. I liked that better!

I rewarded him by picking up both wartenberg wheels and tracking them down his legs to the tops of his feet. OH! He had no idea how tender those spots were and when he expressed that, I told him perhaps in was something to add to his hard limits list for next time.

This makes me laugh again, and now I am tracing the wheels over his ribcage. I am making him laugh and scream at the same time. He is beside himself, not sure how to react to the conflicting sensations. I torment him in this fashion as long as I can stand to and then drop a wheel and pick up the lobster fork.

We play the game of which is hurting you now? I make him cover his eyes as I poke and prod him. He is so confused He can not decide which implement it is, and I keep cheating by changing what is in my hands.

I make him call for God a few more times and then warn him if he says it one more time the scene is over. I keep ramping up the pain, even having him roll over on his tummy so I can torment his poor backside some more.

We end with whipping strikes to his inner thighs, this pushes him over the edge, and I call and end to our play.

I hand him some water, and have some myself. I busy myself with cleaning up toys and he busies himself cleaning up himself.

I make a gift of the bloody cane to him, bamboo does not clean well and I have more.

We sleep soon after and the next day we head for home.

It was a great way to spend three days!