Sublimation..

The encyclopedia:

To transform sexual impulses or "sexual energy" into creative energy. Or to transform a primitive urge into a sublime outcome. An impulse transformed into a higher purpose..

He says, this is what he has been doing, what he does sometimes. Transforms his urges of SM and dominance into his creative work. Sometimes his lust or sexual impulses yields for other things, this time his work, and other things.. So we have been the victims? of sublimation these last 3 months, except one time only, when he found his cane, and I was too squeamish and unused to really be able to receive it..

I am very fond of scientific "foreign" words, but I am not sure, that sublimation and sublimate will be my favorite words, and I am terribly glad, that he has finally finished with his sublimation. Or perhaps he has found another impulse to sublimate than the spanking-impulse..

Philosophizing over the words, I find, that the "sub"limation was the cause of me not being a "sub", "sub"elimination.. I am glad his sublimation didn't lead to subelimination..

And, as an inserted sentence, I have of course had my issues, too, and carry part of the responsibility. I have, to be in the same line of words, very clearly sublimated my girlfriend-energy into other things, though not quite so higher purposes.. :-D

Well, enough of the nonsense, it is certain at least, that we, after a summer with children everywhere, a lot of challenges, so to speak, and very little adult time finally had planned an extended weekend far away, in the cottage in the woods. Him and I alone, without any plans but him and I, alone.. Very certain, too, in my head at least, that if he was ever to find his urge to swing his whip again, it would be this weekend..

I was told, Friday morning after lovely vanilla, that I this day could expect shopping (not so exotic, only shopping for dinner in the evening), a nice walk, and sex.. 

Some might not believe this, but in my wardrobe there are other types of clothing than tight dresses and stilettos (sorry to ruin my image). My wardrobe has so unbecoming shorts, that not even a man that has been without sex in a decade, would find them desirable, and boring unsexy sneakers, both ideal for a walk in the hills, looking for chanterelles.. And to make bad worse, I was nicely scented by my "mosquito-and-ticks-go-away-spray", as the area is full of insects, and Lyme disease wouldn't be my preferred home-coming gift.. And insecticides are not exactly aphrodisiacs, no matter how much lavender the manufacturer has put in the bottle to mask the foul smell..

Shopping and walking over and done with, together with a swim in the lake. A lake that can make any woman’s nipples erect (being cold). As an opposite to the generally negative effect on the male anatomy, that cold water seems to have.. Dinner also cooked, enjoyed, and eaten, and as usual on a Friday night, I was tired.. A powernap on the sofa can kill any naughty evening in the make, even if I for once was well prepared, and had remembered to bring and wear a pair of stilettos as well as a tight black dress.. But of what use is it all, if I, as always, can sleep anywhere and at any time, even when it brings an end to a wildly romantic day, with loads of fun and closeness, the perfect beginning of a game..

So I slept again, on the sofa..!!

I was woken up by him simply removing my blanket. I felt him take a firm grip of my hair, while I was still dizzy of sleeping, not quite understanding, what was happening. In the middle of the fogs I felt how he lifted up the skirt of my dress, turned me around so I was laying on my stomach, and then let his hand fall down my buttocks.. And he did it again and again, while his grip tightened around my hair. I felt how he let my favorite whip follow his hands, the horse whip that warms and stings, for, in the end, to take the cane.. All the way I was dazed and dizzy, I never got to prepare myself for it, and I could do nothing but feel and accept, enjoy, receive..

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