Flannel PJs and Switching.

It’s 36 hours until I’m back in my wife’s arms. She unwrapped all our new toys this weekend, and is really into everything except the bit, which she says smells very rubbery. We’ve been talking a lot, and as of a couple days ago, it’s no-orgasms-for-me-time until I get up there, which I’ve already said works to our mutual advantage.

One thing I thought just summed up how — on she is, was a discussion about the corsets I bought her.

“Do you like them?” I asked…

“They look good, but they’re a bit uncomfortable. I’m happy to wear them for you, but they’re not very dominant.”

“How are they not dominant? It’s a corset with the breasts showing. It’s leather. It’s hot.” When I think dominant wife, in my mind’s eye I see black leather and boots and buckles and a leather belt turning my skin scarlet in stripes.

“It’s not very comfortable, though.” She says matter-of-factly. “It’s for you, not me. I mean, to me, a domme should be as comfortable as possible. If I were really focusing solely on my pleasure, I’d wear nice warm flannel pajamas and fuzzy slippers while beating the hell out of you.”

And the oddest thing was that the image of her in her warm, blue flannel pajamas, with her comfortable slippers, hitting me and pulling my hair and slapping the clamps off of my nipple and my dick — oh, my. It sent me. I love the idea of her, dressed comfortably, and me, naked and cold and just being abused. So, you know, that got added to the wish-list for this week.

The other thing she brought up was switching. She’s fascinated by the idea that she could get to know how I want to be dominated and abused by letting me take the reins, so to speak. So she brought up subbing for me. “I’d tell you to dominate me,” she said. “Then it would be okay, because I’d still be in control, in my own way. You’d have to dominate me, because I fucking ordered you to, slave.”

And the idea…is odd to me. On the one hand, the idea of trying all of these things on her that she’s tried on me — whipping her beautiful ass with my belt, leashing her, shackling her arms and legs, clamping her big sexy nipples — all of it — it’s a little hot. I have to be honest, it turns me on. The thought of having her on her knees, head bowed, calling me master… Um, yum. Back when we had mostly vanilla sex, we messed around with light spanking while she would give me head, and I always enjoyed the hell out of it. And she clearly wants it. She was getting excited as she talked about it. “And you could piss on me. You could mark me. Like I mark you.” She really wants to see how I would do this so that she can get some insight into what I want.

But my fantasies are all about me being submissive. So the idea of dominating — it’s new. It’s scary. I’m a little off balance. I’m definitely going to do it — I can’t wait, to be honest — but I see it as a minor diversion, an experiment where the end goal is for my Mistress to see how I want to be hurt and dominated better, rather than something we’re going to experiment with permanently. Maybe we’ll both love it, though? I don’t know. But she’s nervous, too — she loves being the top, being dominant, and being a sadist. Even when she’s bottoming out and letting me hurt her, I don’t know that I’d ever really be in control — because she owns me so much, so deeply. Her eyes catch mine and there’s so much knowledge there — she just knows me inside and out, and because she knows me, she owns me. I just want to be swallowed by her totally — I want to be a bird caught by a snake. Helpless before her.

She always takes me in such interesting places. 36 hours…