Self-Image

Hers, not mine.

My Bandree had another attack of self doubt. Admittedly, things have been very busy and stressy in our day-to-day world, but yesterday, she went too far.

Any reference by me to playing or other players produced a sniffy smart-alec put down or other rebuke. Everybody else was younger, sexier, subbier, dommier or whatever.

By late afternoon, I had had enough of it. We had reached a deserted location and my Bandree was immediately pushed over a straight backed chair. Nowdays, I never put on a pair of trousers without a suitable belt. The jeans I was wearing were matched, as usual, by the thick brown leather belt I had bought, in her company, in Cheyenne during a recent visit to the US. At that time, we both knew exactly what I was doing when I bought that belt.

Folded double, I brought it down on her bottom, producing sharp yelps even through the trousers she was wearing. She didn't wear them long, though. Singling the belt, I dragged her pants and knickers down. With each swing of my belt, I pushed her back down whilst chastising her for her lack of self respect. I will not have anyone, not even her, bad-mouthing the woman I love, desire and adore. I emphasised each of her virtues with another swing of my belt - her gorgeous clear skin, her sexy legs, her just-right breasts, her wonderful openness to new ideas and exploration, her sense of humour, her kindnesses to others, her erotic effect on me, her happiness in her new role as rope bunny to my fumbling rigger efforts. I reminded her, with another swing of my arm, of how proud I felt the previous evening when she chose to complement the red ribbon bow I had tied through the top pair of her labial rings by wearing black suspenders and stockings. She had looked delicious. How dare she run herself down.

When I had finished she was crying and apologising. I turned her to face the wall for a few moments, to consider her lesson and the importance to me of how she views herself, particularly in comparison to others.

I know that it is a female competitive thing, and sure, we are not youngsters at the start of our sexual careers, but living in our present (rather than our pasts or futures) we have it good. I have a sexy, aware, intelligent, brave, funny, friendly good looking, submissive woman for my wife. I can fear what will happen in the future, I can regret that we didn't discover all this years ago. But with age comes confidence and wisdom and I believe those are the qualities which most enable me to enjoy this lifestyle.

Whilst my B was facing the wall, I noted, again, with pride for both of us, the clear outline of a cane welt she received from me at Nimhneach two weeks ago. This is special because her lovely, cared for, skin doesn't usually hold marks for very long at all, 24 hours would be noteworthy. So she was right when she had commented that her Nimhneach caning had finished with a hard one.