Posted in Life in General

Happy New Year!

2017 has been awesome from a personal point of view.

6 Months ago MrH and I began our journey into a D/s relationship. I have never, ever been so glad I had the courage to ask MrH if he would “do that to me”.

Its been so amazing, I wish I’d done it years ago. I’m happier, calmer, less anxious.

I can’t wait to see where it leads us I’m 2018.

To anyone who reads my posts – thank you. I’m grateful to you all for taking the time to do so. I hope you enjoy it and I look forward to reading your future comments on my posts in the future as I have enjoyed reading them in 2017.

Best wishes to each and every one of you.

Happy New Year!

Posted in 18+, submissive fiction

Captains Prize (part 5)

He waited until she had finished eating, trying to concentrate on his own plate and not on the way her tongue looked as she licked her lips, or how it would feel swirling the top of his cock.

Every now and then she would glance at him and blush. The colour flushing her face was delightful, and he knew that she would flush this way when her body was taken by its first climax. His sex was uncomfortable, his imagination wasn’t helping the situation either.

Pushing these delightful images to one side he forced himself to think of practical matters. They had supplies enough to remain at sea for about 5 weeks, 6 at a push but he never pushed it. A hungry crew was a dangerous crew. A thirsty crew was even worse so they always made sure they had 10 days supplies in reserve. While she had slept he and Smithy had agreed on a course that would take them to a free port that was 6 days sailing away by the most direct course. It would take them three times that long. Smithy thought he was mad, he’d said as much. But this girl was in his head and he had to possess her. More importantly he wanted her to want him to.

His sex that had begun to settle, perked up as his thoughts returned to her, and with some determination he returned to navigation.

They would stop for a few days on the island that they had founded and that a few of the men kept their families on. It would allow them to decompress a while and to unload some of the linen and grains.

He knew Smithy was looking forward to seeing Aggie and he hoped that one day Martha would consent to live there too. He was looking forward to taking her to his cabin on the island – he pushed that thought away too – before his sex woke again.

Martha had finished, and she had eaten everything he had brought for her. She must have been hungry he thought. He tried not to imagine how she would look when her body was nourished again.

She looked up from her hands, which were folded in her lap, and he caught her eye, holding her gaze. He eyes were grey he realised, they sometimes looked blue. She was blushing under his gaze, the colour creeping up her face, she seemed unable to look away. He smiled at her, and to his surprise, and hers it seemed, she smiled tentatively back.

“Do you feel better?” He asked. Raising an eyebrow and releasing her gaze by looking at her plate.

“Yes, thank you,” she replied quietly. Her eyes lowering as soon as he released them. She felt so exposed, he seemed to look right into her soul. His eyes were delicious, a warm deep brown, she could fall into them. She did fall into them they made her feel safe which, she thought was ridiculous. He had kidnapped her and was keeping her a prisoner. He was a pirate. He is the first person who’s ever stood up for you, pipped up the little voice in her head. Shut up she told it, that’s not the point.

She needed to relieve herself again. She glanced at the privy. She hadn’t seen The Captain use it. Maybe he used it when she was sleeping. She blushed again at her thoughts, why was she imagining him removing his clothes. She was surely a harlot, to have such impure thoughts.

He noticed her eyes flash towards the privy and realised she needed to use it.

“Feel free to relieve yourself,” he gestured towards the privy. “There’s also some fresh water for you to refresh your face,” he pointed at the dresser which once again had a basin of water on it.

Martha stood and went to use the privy, as she did he continued to talk to her. She wanted her to loose her inhibitions, her desire to hide her body and its functions from him. To own her completely she had to know he accepted everything about her, too many women thought bodily functions were disgusting, shameful and unnatural. He wanted no such thoughts in Martha’s mind so she could give herself without reservation to him.

“In 5 days we will make land. If you have learned your place and pleased me, you will be permitted to go on land and meet the families there. It’s a beautiful place, trees and grass. Fresh water and pools of cool water. We spend time there whenever we can. Smithy’s wife is there, his daughter and maybe when we get back his grandbaby will have arrived. We have some linens we’ve managed to acquire…”

Martha’s mind whirled. An island. Families. He was telling her like she should be excited. Did he think she would want to stay on an island? As his slave? A prisoner? That voice in her head pipped up again, sounds quite lovely actually … And maybe he’s thinking you would be his wife? A laugh escaped her, an almost hysterical laugh, which she regretted immediately. The captain stopped talking and looked at her.

“Did I say something amusing, Martha?” He asked questioningly.

She shook her head and began to move to the basin.

“Look at me,” the tone in his voice made her stop and turn. She kept her eyes down. “What was so amusing?”

Martha licked her lips, they had gone dry and she could feel a blush creap up her face. “Nothing,” she said, “truly. I was thinking of something else. Wasn’t anything you said.” She wanted desperately to look away from his eyes, but he held her captive, his eyes seeking truth in hers.

He allowed the silence to stretch. He looked at her. Watching her squirm under his gaze. Seeing her distress as she tried to hide herself from him. The minutes dragged on..

“I was thinking of the families on the island,” she finally whispered breaking the silence, “and what you want from me.” Her voice broke on the last words, tears forming in her eyes.

The captain as stood up, thankful his sex was relaxed at last, and walked round the table to stand in front of her. As soon as he had moved she had dropped her eyes and he put his hands on the tops of her arms, gently squeezing his fingers.

“Look at me” he whispered. She raised her eyes to his. “I want nothing more than you are able to give. You will not be harmed, in fact I hope you will come to be happy there. You have much to learn but I am sure you will learn quickly.”

She didn’t know why, but she believed him. Believed he expected her to be happy. One of them was delusional. She wondered briefly if it was her.

“Wash your face,” he said, and with a gentle squeeze of his fingers, he released her. Martha washed her face quickly and folding the drying linen turned to face him again.

He was sat on the bench facing her, much as he had yesterday before he had spanked her, and she swallowed hard, biting back the panic.

“Come here, Martha,” he said, “take off your skirt and lay over my knee.”

She looked at him incredulously. He expected her to.. to.. just undress to… lie over his knee and be spanked? Her eyes flashed to his in panic and she took a step back.

“It can be easy or not so,” he spoke firmly. “You said no to me, Martha, I can’t let that slide. Ten spanks, that’s all..” he paused, ” but if I have to undress you and make you, it will be twice that.” His sex was cheering for her to defy him. More was better… more satisfying.

She hesitated, he could see the thoughts going through her head. Then he saw it, saw the acceptance, as her shoulders fell slightly. She untied her skirt and it fell to the floor. She stepped out of it and, walking towards him she hesitated again. This time he knew it was because she simply wasn’t sure how to put herself on his knee, uncertainty not definance. He held out his left hand and took her left hand in his.

He pulled her forward another step so she was stood at his left hand side and he pulled her hand across his body until it was on the bench on the other side of him. She realised what he was showing her. From here she could lower herself across his knee quite easily, and she did so. Feeling ashamed as she did, not only had she obeyed him but because the heat was once again spreading through her privates, her body seemed to be – excited. She hung her head and closed her eyes.

The Captain was smiling. Damn but her backside looked cute there over his knee. He reached out and stroked the skin on each cheek, and heard her catch her breath. She liked his touch. She hadn’t tensed today, not like yesterday, his smile grew. She was going to be so easy to teach.

He drew back his hand and prepared to deliver the first spank, his sex swelled with anticipation, oh, he was going to enjoy this.





He delivered the first four quickly and evenly, alternating cheeks. The breath had whooshed out of her on the first blow and she hadn’t taken another breath. He stroked her behind, kneeding a little and she took a jagged breath in. He continued to kneed and stroke while she took a few more breaths. Was she counting? Time for more he thought.


Harder this time, she gasped. His sex hardened.




She gasped with each blow. He stroked her backside gently and she moaned, squirming but not as if to get away. She was enjoying his touch. His hand moved in circles round and round each cheek. He paused briefly where the tops of her legs and backside met. Her breath stilled. Very gently he pushed one finger between her legs, feeling the wet warmth there, she gasped and began wriggling now in earnest, but he didn’t think she was frightened, his right hand on her back easily kept her fixed in place.

He moved his finger gently forward and back catching the nib he knew would bring her pleasure just four times then withdrew his hand to deliver the last two spanks. This time he aimed for the spot where he would catch both cheeks and her sex at the same time.


She cried out.


Martha couldn’t move. She didn’t know what she was feeling. She should be angry. She should be mortified. He had touched her privates, and, it had felt – nice. She was frightened of her body’s reactions, of the feelings his touch created.

Shame kept her frozen. He had helped her to stand and was putting her skirt back on. He was treating her so gently as if she has fragile but he had spanked her – hard. She could feel where he had hit her, she could feel the skin burning on her behind, and where he had touched her privates, they were throbbing, worse, she wanted him to do it again. She felt tears forming in her eyes and begin to fall down her cheeks.

“Ahh my sweet girl,” he whispered and he pulled her into his arms, holding her against his chest. She wanted to pull away to scream at him but instead she melted as her nostrils were filled with the most delicious scent. A mix of leather and wax, salt and sea. Her muscles relaxed as he stroked her back.

He picked her up again, as he had yesterday and she didn’t resist. He settled her onto the bed climbing on behind her and holding her tightly. Tears continued to fall down her face and she wasn’t sure why. But she felt safe and warm in his arms. Eventually the tears stopped and her last thoughts as she fell asleep were of her Ma and Cathy. What would they think of her? Laying in the arms of a man who had touched her privates, a man she wasn’t wed to. And worse that she had liked it.

Posted in 18+, submissive fiction

Captains Prize (part 4)

Martha opened her eyes. Her head felt clammy. She was back in the cabin, on the bed, but her restraints had not been put back on.

“Welcome back,” The Captain’s voice came from across the room. Martha turned her head to look at him.

“Why?” Her voice sounded croaky to her ears, and she wondered how long she had been unconscious. “Why did you do it? Why did you make me watch? Where is he now? Is he dead?” The questions burst forth of their own accord.

“Why? – I told you why – he hurt you,” The Captain approached the bed and sat on the chest near the bed. He had sat there, she remembered, the first time she had been brought to this cabin. His voice was calm, measured. “You needed to see him punished, to know that when I tell you something will happen, it will. No-one and nothing is out of my reach, Martha. ‘The Lady Rose’ is faster than ‘The Fany’ it was a simple thing to catch her and the things that man,” his face twisted on the word, “said when we caught him he is lucky I didn’t kill him, so no, he isn’t dead. We burned the stump and returned him to ‘The Fany’. You will never see him again.” As he finished speaking he leaned towards her, his hands pressed together, and she felt safe not threatened as she expected to.

“I still don’t understand,” Martha whispered. Her throat was so dry.

“Come, drink,” The Captain held out a hand and to her surprise she reached out an took it. His hand felt rough in hers, but strong. Her hand was tiny inside his. A thrill ran through her as she remembered how his hand had felt on her behind and she blushed. A smile formed on his lips, as if he knew what she was thinking. He guided her to the table and there were several slices of bread, a pitcher of wine and some salted meats. There were two cups and plates. “pour two cups of wine,” he said pointing to the pitcher.

Frowning she did as she was bid, manners her Ma had always said cost naught, but serving The Captain seemed different. The blush returned to her face as she passed the cup to him. He seemed to watch her every move. Where his eyes moved a tingling followed. She seemed so aware of him, his presence made her heart speed up. That’s fear she argued with herself, nothing else, fear. Didn’t you just see him cut a mans hand off? Hardly a man the treacherous voice responded and he did that for you.

The Captain took a sip from the cup, Martha noticed how long his fingers were as the wrapped around the cup, and lifted it to his mouth. The way his mouth parted as he drank, her lips and mouth went dry, and she licked her lips ineffectually. Her eyes watched his throat as he swallowed, the dark stubble on his chin, and wondered how that would feel against her skin. Heat rushed to her privates and face simultaneously. A low chuckle escaped from The Captain, and she wanted desperately to hide her face, even as the sound of his soft laughter made the heat in her privates worse. It was as if he could see into her mind. As if he knew what she had been thinking. She glanced back to his face unable to help herself and he was slowly running the tip of his tongue over his lips, catching the last drops of wine. She swallowed, hard, the breath catching in her throat.

“Fix me a plate,” he gestured at the table.

“No,” the word escaped her, and instantly she regretted it. Her eyes shot to his face, and he raised an eyebrow questioningly. Martha picked up a plate and put two slices of bread on to it as well as a few pieces of meat. There was no cutlery and so she had no choice but to use her fingers. Without speaking she placed the plate in front of him.

“Eat. Drink,” he commanded. Silently she complied and lifting the cup she drank deeply. The mead tasted like that she had drunk on board ‘The Fany’ and she wondered if they had stolen it. She took a bite of the bread and it was good. Soft and fresh. A little moan of satisfaction escaped her but she was too hungry to notice. she put some meats on her plate to try. These too were lovely, especially compared to the gruel like substance that she had been forced to eat since they left port. She noticed he was stroking the palm of his left hand with the fingertips of the same hand, and wondered what he was thinking.

He watched her eat. She looked half starved, and the way she was attacking the food it was as if she hadn’t eaten in days. When she had undressed he had noticed that her clothes hung loose and he had just assumed they were not hers. Now he wondered if she had lost weight on the journey. He had noticed her looking at him earlier, her breathing had increased just a little and her lips had parted. She was aroused he knew, but her reactions, her confusion told him she did not understand her feelings. When her eyes had lingered on his face he had briefly wondered how she would taste, if he were to take her and sit her on the hammock, he could bring her sex to his lips quite easily. Would she be wet to his touch? His sex had swelled as his thoughts lingered and he chuckled at his own reaction. He was like an inexperienced young whelp near her. He could almost imagine the taste of her on his lips.

Now of course she would need another lesson. He could let her outburst pass but truth be told he wanted to feel her body over his knee again, to stroke her behind with his hand. His hand curled in, the fingertips stroking his palm, remembering the feel of her skin. How many strikes… his sex throbbed against his breaches, as he pondered. Six wasn’t enough. No-where near enough. He had to be careful though, balance, she had to need it too. Ten, ten would be enough he decided. For today at least. His sex disagreed, strongly.

Posted in 18+, submissive fiction

Captains Prize (part 3)

Martha woke with a scream.

Cannon fire. She was going to die. A prisoner on a pirate ship.

She could hear men shouting but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Her hands were still bound and the rope was once again secured to the wall.

She remembered the spanking and flushed. She thought that she would hurt, but she didn’t. She remembered childhood spankings, for fighting with the neighborhood children, and, she’d always been unable to sit for at least a day. But then again, she thought, last night’s spanking hadn’t really hurt.

She could hear steps approaching, and the key turned in the lock. The Captain came into the room.

“Good,” he said grimly, ” you’re awake. Relieve yourself quicky you’re needed on deck.”

He untied her hands leaving the rope attached to the wall and waited for her to use the privy. Wordlessly Martha got off the bed and relieved herself. She saw little point in resisting, he’d seen her naked and she flushed again remembering her last visit to the privy. She noticed for the first time there was a basket of rags next to the privy. They had not been there yesterday, she was sure.

“I had those made from scraps we had,” he said, “Smithy tells me his wife finds them useful in keeping herself fresh. You can wash and reuse them,” he continued, pointing at the bucket half filled with water in the corner next to where the bowl had been yesterday.

Martha freshened herself, puzzled by his thoughtfulness, again, and wondered if this Smithy’s wife was on board. Maybe she would help her escape this, this, pirate. Monster didn’t seem to fit somehow. Her brow furrowed.

“Come,” he said and motioned for her to proceed him out of the room. She walked through the corridor past two doors one either side of her and towards the door at the end. This, she knew, would open onto the main deck.

The door opened as she approached it, and the sun, high in the sky blinded her. She raised her hand in front of her eyes as she stepped forward, shielding her face as best she could. The man holding the door open murmured something that sounded like “Cap-em” as The Captain passed him and she flinched as she felt a hand on the small of her back propelling her forward. The Captain guided her to turn and indicated that she should climb the ladder to the upper deck.

Unaccustomed to the bright light and bare feet, Martha stumbled a little, but The Captain’s hand kept her steady. She reached the Upper deck and looked around. There was another ship just a short distance away and with surprise Martha recognised it. It was ‘The Fany’.

Martha turned to look at The Captain questioningly. He pointed to the mizzen mast… Martha followed his arm and froze. Her Da was tied to it. His face red with rage. As he saw her his anger boiled over.

“Ya filthy whore!” Spital dribbled down his chin. “Wha’ filthy lies have ya bin telling these braggarts. Why am I here?”

His gaze fell on The Captain who was now leaned against the rail.

“Why am I here? You wanted ‘er,” he shouted at him, sneering. “If she didn’t please ya it’s not my fault, I’ve tried teachin’ ‘er respect bu’ she’s alus bin headstrong, like ‘er Ma.” He looked around wildly, “surely tha can bring a wench to heal or is thee in need of instruction in how ta train a lass?” Her Da laughter mirthlessly and leered at The Captain who ignored him and turned to Martha.

“I told you the man who hurt you would be punished and I am a man of my word Martha,” he said quietly. “I have few rules Martha but one is that women are never harmed by me or my crew.” He raised his voice now so everyone could hear. ” This man laid hand on my prize. What be his punishment?”

There were several shouts.. ‘flog ‘im,’ ‘haul ‘im,’ but the voice she heard clearest came from behind her, ‘take his hand and send him back.’

Martha turned to look at who had spoken. It was an older man. He too, seemed relaxed. He had an air of authority, not unlike The Captain. This was Smithy she thought.

The men seemed to agree with him for shouts of agreement were coming from the main deck.

Her Da was quiet, Martha stole a glance at The Captain then she looked at her Da. He was pale, sunken looking. She thought of all the times he had beat her, her Ma and her sister. She often thought he’d killed Cathy for he’d threatened to many a time, but her Ma swore she’d ran off.

The Captain walked slowly towards him and Smithy joined him. Between them they tied a rope around her Da’s right fore arm. Her Da had resumed his cursing, now aimed at the two men. He spat at Smithy and a third man shoved a rag into her Da’s mouth. He used a piece of rope to secure it into his mouth and at the same time, his head to the mast, effectively silencing the diatribe that had been spewing forth. The rope secure around his arm about 2 inches above his wrist, Smithy looped the rope around the rail on the poop deck, and pulled, forcing his arm out straight. Her Da was sobbing now… Fear plain on his face.. The Captain whispered something to him and her Da looked at him, his eyes wide with terror, then her Da looked directly at her. Something passed across his face, but Martha couldn’t place it.

The Captain drew his sword and with a single motion her Da’s hand fell to the deck.

Martha, her eyes wide felt her stomach turn and she ran to the side of the ship.. her stomach was empty but she dry heaved over the side. Her legs gave way and she fell to her knees. There was a ringing in her ears, the world spun as everything went black.

Posted in Life in General


I’ve only 2 activities left to complete on my list… to drink another one and a half litres of water and prepare tea.

It’s 2pm and MrH isn’t going to be home for 3 hours.

I’m wearing my corset and have Elementary playing on Now TV …

I’m tired because I woke up a couple of times last night in pain… I think the yoga yesterday aggravated something because the pain was in my sciatic nerve which I don’t normally have issue with. The pain has continued through the day.

So I’m tired and bored and missing MrH.

At least I have my cats to keep me company.

Posted in 18+, submissive fiction

Captains Prize (part 2)

When Martha awoke, for the briefest moment, she forgot where she was. She was simply warm and comfortable, the mattress softer than anything she had ever felt and in those first few drowsy moments, she didn’t want to wake. Then the memories came flooding back; being dragged from ‘The Fany’ onto the pirates ship. Her hands being tied with the corse rope and being pushed below deck into a cage. Her eyes flew open – her heart pounding.

The room was dull but not dark, she could see relatively well. She flushed as she remembered the shameful way she had been made to relieve herself in front of that man, she would not call him Captain H.

Easing her body up quietly she looked around the room, hoping to see something she could use to defend herself when he came back to defile her.

“There are no weapons in the room Martha,” a low voice came from a corner of the room that her eyes had not yet covered. She looked over startled. He was lounging in a hammock, on his back. His arms were folded under his head, his feet were crossed. His eyes were closed and she wondered how he had known what she had been thinking. Could he read minds? Was he a seer?

“Go back to sleep,” he said.

Unfortunately her body was telling her quite insistently that she had more pressing needs. Shame filled her knowing she was going to have to ask. She took a breath and wispered, “I need to relieve myself.” Her voice was croaky from sleep. She lowered her eyes unable to look in his direction, cursing her body for its needs.

She heard the rustle of fabric on fabric and a light thud as he climbed out of the hammock. She felt the tug of the rope as he undid it from the ring.

“Come,” he said gently.

She eased herself off the bed and noticed her shoes were gone. The wood floor felt smooth under her feet and oddly comforting. He took her to the privy and he released the lid. She quickly lifted her skirts and pulled down her drawers. It was pointless to waste time she thought as she settled on the seat.. to her shame her bowels opened noisily and she reddened, the stew had been richer than she was used to and she was paying for it now. She would have given anything for privacy. She looked for something with which to clean herself and noticed there was a bowl with water and cloths nearby.

“Refresh yourself,” he spoke up. He didn’t sound disgusted, just tired she thought. She moved from the privy closing the lid towards the bowl. Picking up a cloth she put it into the water, which was cool, not cold and she squeezed the excess water from the cloth. She patted it on her face and chest and she heard a chuckle behind her. She turned to find him stood behind her. He reached for her hands and untied them.

“Get undressed and clean yourself properly,” he said, “you must be very uncomfortable in all that fabric.”

Martha’s eyes opened wide. Undress. In front of him. She shook her head vehimently.

“Yours isn’t the first female body I have seen Martha,” he spoke lazily, almost sounding bored. “I assure you I can control myself.” He settled into the bench next to the table.

Martha turned to face away from him. He would not see the tears of shame that welled up in her eyes. She was unbound and should fight him but in truth she was very uncomfortable and didn’t have any energy to do so. When the ship had been sighted her father had ordered her to put on her corset and over skirts. For the most of the voyage she and the other women had dressed in thin cotton garments staying below deck so as to not enflame the passions of the men. At least that is what her mother had said. So taking the corset off would be a relief even if short lived. The facilities on ‘The Fany’ hadn’t included washing areas. And after 4 weeks on board she was in dire need of a bath but this would be better than naught.

She unlaced the front of the over jacket and allowed it to fall to the floor. She would rinse it after she had cleansed her skin. She would rinse all her clothing. The corset was next, she would leave that off. Should she have the opportunity to escape she could move better without it. She untied the waist of the over skirt and allowed it to fall stepping out of it and she kicked it onto the growing pile of clothes. She was left in her undergarments. She hesitated. He may have seen many naked women but she had never undressed in front of a man.

“Either you do it Martha,” he drawled, “or I will.” The threat hung in the air for a moment before Martha’s shoulders sagged in defeat.

She loosened the tie at the front of the top and pulled it over her head dropping it onto the floor with the rest of the clothes. The cool air was nice against her clammy skin and her nipples puckered making her extremely aware of their nakedness. The bloomers were already loosened from her use of the privy and they fell to the floor easily. She untied the garters that were secured above her knees and removed the stockings. She was completely naked. She had never in her life been so exposed since the day of her birth.

Martha resisted the urge to cover herself with her hands and set about washing her skin. The cloth was rough but she had spotted the soap at the side of the bowl as she had undressed and picking up the soap she applied it to the cloth and began to rub away the sweat and grime. It felt good to be clean and she was soon reveling in the feel of the cool water and cloth against her skin. Her nipples seemed sensitive to the cloth and she vaguely noted that whenever she caught them with the rough cloth the heat returned to her privates.

She didn’t dwell on these thoughts however, absorbed as she was in her ablutions, she could almost forget that The Captain was there. She was reminded of his presence however when she heard the bang and while she wanted to turn her nakedness rooted her to the spot.

He was there at her side, handing her another larger cloth so she could dry her damp body. She frowned as she took the cloth. This thoughtful gesture didn’t match what she knew of pirates.

She briskly rubbed the cloth over her skin it was scratchy but she didn’t care. When she felt dryer she looked down ready to redress but her clothes were gone.

“Where are my clothes!” Her voice wavered, surely he wasn’t expecting her to be naked. Again he surprised her, handing her a white cotton shirt and skirt.

“Put these on, you’ll be infinitely more comfortable.”

Blushing, Martha pulled the skirt on and tied the waist. The cotton was soft and comfortable. Obviously a good quality and she wondered what had happened to the previous owner. Shaking her head she pushed away the thought, and pulled the blouse over her head, tied the ribbon and tucked the hem into the waist of the skirt. She felt so much better for being clean.

“Now tell me that doesn’t feel better?” The Captain asked, he was right behind her, his breath fluttering against her ear as he spoke. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach and her privates clenched in a strange way. It was not unpleasant and a frown creased her forehead. “Would you like to brush your hair also?” He offered her a hairbrush.

“Yes,” Martha replied as she reached for the brush. He withdrew his hand moving the brush away.

“Yes, what?”

She looked up at him questioning.

“Yes please?”

“Good girl,” he said and gave her the brush. Martha flushed again and clenched her jaw. She began to unwind her hair. It was long and knotted. She hadn’t brushed it out in a while. Martha grimaced and tugged the brush trying to untangle it.

“How on earth do you cope with that,” The Captain spoke again. “Delightful as long hair is Martha, it isn’t practical on a ship.”

Martha felt him touch her hair and froze. Her arm was half raised ready for another attack on her hair. He seemed to be gathering her hair into one hand and even as fear crept into her chest she noticed that there were other feelings, nice feelings – she liked the feel of him touching her hair, she realised, and again shame washed over her.

The sound of hair being cut dragged her away from these thoughts… and she spun around to face him her mouth forming a surprised ‘O’.

The Captain took a step back, he had a knife in one hand and in the other a fist of her hair.

As she spun her hair now fell around her, it was now to her shoulder blades rather than below her waist.

“That,” he said, “will be much easier for you to manage.”

“You cut my hair!” She said indignantly. Her temper finally making an appearance. She had always been complimented on her glorious hair, how long it was, how glossy. She reached up her hand that didn’t hold the brush and felt the remaining hair.

“Yes,” he said simply. “Be careful Martha you are beginning to sound rude. I told you what would happen if you displeased me. Finish brushing your hair. I am still tired and plan to get some more sleep.”

Biting back her anger she lifted the brush and returned to her hair. She hated him. She hated him. She also hated to admit he was right the brush now flowed easily through her hair.

She completed her task and held the brush out to him.

He took the brush with one hand and with the other grasped her wrist securely. Her temper already awoken made her try and tug her hand away. He laughed at her attempts. He placed the brush on the table and picked the rope back up. He secured it to her wrist and motioned for her other hand.

Martha put it behind her shaking her head, “no” she spat at him.

With what seemed like no effort at all he spun her and grasped her hand. Securing this to the other he pulled her to him as he sat on the bench.

“I warned you Martha,” he murmured. She found herself over his knee, she wasn’t sure how as he seemed to simply tug her and she fell. He held her securely with a hand over her back her hair fell forward over her head.

She felt his hand on the hem of her skirts as his fingers brushed her ankles, and she realised he intended to lift it, exposing her bare behind. Martha squirmed and whimpered, “no, no, no…”

“I think 6 will do for now,” he said and he increased the pressure on her back keeping her in place despite her efforts.

She felt the cool air as her derriere was exposed and froze, her whole body tensed. His hand was rubbing her behind, gently. Martha’s breathing stopped. He wasn’t serious. Surely he wasn’t serious.

“Yes 3 on each,” his voice was lower, and she felt her privates contract again at the sound of his voice.. Heat had pooled there too.

He hadn’t stopped stroking, and shame flooded through her as she realised her body has begun to relax. He removed his hand.


Her eyes opened wide, the breath gushed out of her. She expected pain but instead she felt more heat in her privates. Her sense of shame increased.


This time the other cheek. Again it didn’t hurt but tears welled up in her eyes.


Harder this time but still not exactly painfully. The tears of humiliation began to fall. Her head fell in shame. The heat in her privates seemed to be throbbing now, it felt strange, and…. nice.


A moan escaped her lips. The tears fell freely now. How could she like this? It was wrong. So wrong.

Smack, smack.

Another moan, mixed with a sob, as the final two blows hit. Once again he began to rub the area gently. Martha squirmed. It felt good, so good. As the tears flowed unhindered down her face, confusion and shame whirled in her mind.

“Sshhh,” he soothed her as he stroked. She felt him put her skirts back down and he helped her stand.

Her body shook as she sobbed and he picked her up and took her to the bed. Laying her down he settled himself behind her. Martha tried to pull away but he held her fast. He continued to whisper to her, she couldn’t hear his words over her sobs.

Her privates throbbed mercilessly and she felt a mixture of humiliation, shame and desire.

After some time passed her sobs eased, and her body relaxed against his. Her breaths deepened. She was asleep. The Captain allowed his mind to wander. Her behind was delightful. Smooth under his calloused hand. He was glad she had defied him, watching her undress he had been itching to see how the skin would ripple as it was struck. He had not been disappointed. It had been hard to strike only 6 times. He would have bet 10 galleons her sex was wet and needy but he had resisted finding out. He wanted her to beg. A smile formed on his lips, oh yes, she would beg.

Posted in 18+, submissive fiction

Captains Prize

The girl was tied to the ring that he usually used to secure the bed hangings during the day. He knew the men thought it strange but he knew that he slept better in the dark and in the Carribbean it never seems to be dark long enough. He missed the dark nights of the northern climate where he grew up, but he knew he belonged at sea. He’d removed the curtains before he’d had her brought up. He didn’t want to give her anything to hide behind.

He body trembled but her eyes flashed defiantly at him. She’d caught his attention the minute they had boarded the ship. Fists clenched as she had pushed the children behind her. It had taken the ships captain mere seconds to agree to them taking half of the ships food supplies and the girl- although he had little choice, had he refused the offer he would have killed anyone on board and all the supplies.

At least that’s what Captain H had told him… He was quite proud of his ability to pirate with minimal loss of life. His crew preferred it too.

The girl, she thought him a savage of course. He moved into the room and closed the door, bolting it behind him. She jumped at the sound. There appeared to be a bruise on her cheek. He would deal with whoever had marked her later. He expected his crew to follow orders and his instructions had been quite simple. Noone was to touch her. She was his.

He crossed the room to the table and uncorked the brandy bottle. He poured some into each of the two glasses in front of him. Picking them up he walked slowly towards her.

“I’m Captain H, what is your name?” He asked sitting on the top of the chest that was close but not too close to the girl.

Her jaw clenched and he saw her eyes narrow. She planned to be silent.

“You could remain silent,” he nodded, taking a sip of the drink, “but a name isn’t going to kill you and it will make conversation much easier. Furthermore if you don’t give me your name I will simply give you a new one.”

His eyes searched her face as he spoke looking for any hint of compliance. Perhaps a little bribe he thought.

“If you give me your name I will allow you to have a drink,” he raised the drink in his hand, “you must be thirsty.”

“Martha,” she said.

He moved closer to her and put the glass to her lips. Tipping it gently he allowed her to take a few small sips. She drank warily her eyes never leaving his face.

“Not too much,” he cautioned, “your stomach will be tender.” He had seen thirsty men drink too fast and vomit. It didn’t help and he didn’t want to have to clean up. He couldn’t offer her water, on board ship there was nothing drinkable, and he didn’t know how used to such a strong drink she would be.

“I think we should establish some simple rules Martha,” he settled back into the chest as he spoke. “I have given orders noone is to harm you.” Her eyes lifted to his again, this time accusation in them. “Who ever did that,” he motioned at her face, “will be punished.” At this she laughed.

“You don’t believe me? You will watch.” He said. Her laughter was derisive and she shook her head.

“You’ll not, for he isn’t here. My da did that for spilling some of his ale afore you boarded us.” She seemed to regret her outburst and she shut her mouth tightly.

“Your father was the captain of that ship?” He frowned, he hadn’t seen any men other than sailors on board.

“No,” her face twisted, it seemed having already spoken she was compelled to continue, “he went and hid like a coward leaving me with the other children and slaves to be taken or killed, said it would make his life easier when he got to the Americas if I were gone. Me ma died of cholera a few days back.” Tears brimmed in her eyes but she refused to let them fall.

He admired her strength. His eyes once again travelled over her body. The swell of her breasts above the corset. He imagined cutting the ribbons and freeing them, taking the nipples in his mouth. His sex swelled and strained against his breachers. He could take her of course. Take her anger, force her to submit to him but he wanted her compliance.. he wanted her moans not her screams … Well at least at first he thought. There would be time enough to educate her in how to please him…

Yes, he wanted her to surrender, willingly.

He reached over and untied the rope from the wall. “Come,” he tugged lightly on the rope which bound her hands. He had chosen to tie them about 3 feet apart so she was comfortable. “I will take you to relieve yourself.”

Her face flushed scarlet at his words. The water closet was, well a covered hole over the side of the ship. He unfastened the lid and revealed the seat. She balked. Shaking her head. He motioned for her to proceed.

“Please Sir,” she wispered, “not in front of you.”

“I’m not leaving Martha,” he motioned for her to proceed. “Your body is now mine. I will know everything about it soon enough. Every inch of your skin, every secret place. And Martha, you will like it, I promise you that. So prudish behaviour is pointless.” Her eyes had widened as he spoke, her face paled. “When I speak you will answer me. And you will be polite. The men won’t harm you but if you displease me you will be spanked.” She had lowered her eyes, clearly her need overriding her shame, as she pulled up her skirts and trying to expose as little of herself she pulled down her drawers and sat over the hole. He could see her relief as she peed. As well as the flush of shame that spread across her chest.

When she had finished she pulled up her drawers and tried to smooth out her skirts. He smiled at her attempts to cover her body. Soon she would be naked.

“I will take care of you Martha,” he said, “in return you will behave as I ask and follow my instructions. There is some bread on the table and some stew. Eat.”

She moved to the table and ate slowly. There was only a spoon for her to use. When she had eaten he instructed her to lie on the bed. The anger flashed in her eyes again as she clenched her fists and climbed onto the bed.

He secured her rope to the ring again. She had enough rope to move around the bed a little, even to stand at the side of the bed but not far. There was nothing else she could reach he had made sure of that.

“Sleep,” he said and he walked to the door. “I will be back in a few hours.”

He undid the bolt, opened the door and went through. The door closed behind him and she heard a key turn the lock. The girls eyes closed, tears of shame, humiliation and relief flowed down her cheeks.

Why had she given him her name? Why did she find him so handsome? Why did she think she saw kindness in his eyes? Didn’t she know what would happen to her now? He would take her, force his manhood into her ….. her privates felt warm and wet.. shame flooded through her. Maybe her da had been right- and she was a wanton harlot after all.

Exhausted, Martha fell asleep.

Posted in submissive fiction

The greeting

He arrived home late, and my anxiety had me pacing.

I have been at home all day. My tasks have been completed and I am in need of a fix… I need Sir.

I hear the car pull onto the drive and my pulse quickens. Today is the start of the new protocols that Sir has devised. These are only in play if the boys are in their rooms, which they are, so I move to the spot next to his chair and kneel.

The engine cuts off, and the door opens and closes. I wait … I know he will be retrieving his bag from the back seat. A door opens and closes. My heart speeds up. Eyes down.

I can hear his footsteps outside as he passes the window. Then the front door opens.

I keep my eyes on my knees as he walks in.

He goes straight into the kitchen. He’s taking his time I’m sure… He doesn’t usually take this long. I suddenly realise I am holding my breath and slowly let my breath out. I roll my shoulders to relax them.

He’s coming. I hear him walking in the hallway. The floor is different so I can hear the change in sound. The sound disappears so he’s come into the room.

His feet appear in front of me.

“Good evening Sweetgirl,” he says.

“Good evening Sir. I hope your day was pleasant. How may I please you?” I reply. My heart is thudding in my chest.

“My day was fine Sweetgirl,” he says, his tone is disappointed. My breath catches .. I didn’t say my greeting correctly.

On my first day. I’d been practicing all day how could I have got it wrong? I am supposed to ask, how was your day, a question not a statement. And I am meant to wait until he has replied before asking the next one. In my eagerness I have rushed and got the phrases wrong. All wrong.

What will Sir do? He hasn’t continued and I realise he is waiting to see if I rectify my mistake. I take a breath.

“How may I please you this evening Sir?”

“First Sweetgirl,” he begins,” I wish you to help me get changed. I will then have a glass of orange. Please stand.”

I do as I am instructed and follow him out of the room. I help him out of his shirt and trousers, hanging the trousers in the wardrobe for tomorrow. He has put on his t-shirt and I help him into his lounge pants.

I thank him for letting me be of service and head downstairs to make his drink.

When I come into the living room he is sat in his usual place. I hand him his drink and kneel again in front of him with my eyes still lowered.

“Look at me”

My eyes move to his. I am dreading seeing the disappointment in them. But he is smiling.

“For a first time you did well Sweetgirl and you followed my instructions well.” He motions for me to put my head on his knee and I comply. He begins to stroke my hair. As he does I feel my shoulders relax and my breathing slows. A calm settles over me and I feel at peace.

“Do not make the same mistake tomorrow Sweetgirl,” he says, “or I will be forced to punish you.”

My heart quickens again..

Posted in Life in General, rules

Keeping Busy

MrH is back at work today and I am still looking for a new job so I’m not (although if I hadn’t been made redundant I wouldn’t have been working this week as the company office shuts down).

I hate it when he’s at work and I’m not. I get anxious and stressed.

To help me manage this today MrH set me a series of tasks to complete.

He leaves work in 6 minutes and I’ve done them all. It helped too. Knowing I had things to do .. not just things but things he has asked me to do. Things that he expects me to do.

It’s helped keep my mind calm and also pushed my mental submissive self.

MrH’s replacement gift arrived today too as well as his cane.

He’s also confirmed that we will be going to the munch in January too. I’m excited to be going as the venue is a club with private play rooms. The plan is to go, meet people and look around with a view to playing in a private room together next time we go. It will at least be a location where we don’t have to worry about noise!

Posted in 18+, D/s Experiences, Life in General


I am experiencing sub-drop.

MrH is taking good care of me. He is always my protector, looking out for me.

I’ve put a link below to one of my favourite articles on sub-drop by Jenifer Bene, for anyone who reads this who has never experienced it I urge you to read this regardless of if you are a Dom(me) or sub… Each person needs to know about it and how to deal with it.

On a side note, she also has a great post on sub-space in her ‘Ask Me Anything (AMA)’ page which again I recommend both D and s alike read as once a sub gets deep into sub space they are no longer able to tell you they are hurt/have had enough- the D must be able to recognise is and respond accordingly.

Back to my point..

I’m lucky that I am married to my Dom, he can see I am not myself and is able to respond accordingly.

It was an inevitable thing I think – this drop. We had never had such a long and intense play session.

So he’s being solicitous and caring. He’s reassuring me and he’s asking me to complete little submissive tasks (getting him drinks), to help me maintain my head space, and I’m so grateful.

I decided to write an entry in my sub diary last night reflecting on the last 6 months.. how I’ve changed, how my hard limits have changed, and in such a short space of time.

I’ve come to realise that MrH is definitely enjoying being a Dom. And he knows me better than I thought possible.

I’ll give you an example. A few months ago there was a post on Fetlife asking for models to help a lady make some corsets for an exhibition. MrH told me about it. And I contacted the lady. A few weeks later I met her, she’s a Domme who is married to a lovely gentleman who enjoys being flogged but is not her sub or slave… This Domme has a slave. I got on really well with this Domme and she encouraged me to consider going to a local club called The Townhouse. She told me about the munch there, and the beginners nights. Encouraged me to reach out to the club owner if I had any concerns. I was also privileged to be shown her play room. When I got home I told all this to MrH. And he said maybe we would go in the new year.

What I didn’t realise/think about until a few days ago is how much pre-planning MrH does. I asked if we would be going to the munch in January. He responded that he hadn’t specified January just the New Year. He went on to say that he was waiting for me to be ready.

I had thought that this was the other way round… MrH doesn’t like social events so I assumed he was reluctant to go. Then I’ve re-evaluated and I’ve come to the following conclusions:

  1. He saw the post on a page for a BDSM club. So he had already looked into it.
  2. If he didn’t want to go he wouldn’t have suggested it.
  3. He knew I had concerns about protocols/expectations in a social setting.
  4. He allowed me time to work through them and for my natural curiosity to outweigh my anxiety.
  5. He’s a very very smart and considerate man (which I did know just perhaps didn’t fully appreciate)

So now I’m hoping we are going to the munch on the second Tuesday of January…. Who’d have thought it?!

Right – I’m going back to my snuggles and my hot drink. I have some happy chemicals to replenish 😁