It has been a long while since Sir and I had a long bike-trip together, so the pup was feeling very excited to finally be heading off for our long planned tour of Snowdonia and North Wales...!
The dog had worked hard to arrange some nice weather (I might, in fact, have slightly overdone it, as it turned out to be the hottest week of the year so far...!), so we packed light and started off early to give us a nice long, slow ride up through the country...
Sir took us up through Ledbury and Leominster first, then made a very welcome stop at the Westonbury Mill Water Gardens for tea and cake. It was then on to Rhayader and LLanidoes, were we joined the B4518 to run up through mid Wales - and a breathless stop beside the absolutely stunning Llyn Clwedog reservoir - although we sadly just missing closing time for the caffi, and had to make do with a mint from the pup's pocket instead...!
A short ride took us onto the A470 - and Sir's second favourite road in Wales, as it gently winds its way up into the Snowdonia National Park. It was a perfect road for biking: long sweeping roads that gently rise over moorlands and up into the mountains, with every corner opening up a whole new breathaking vista before us... It was a beautiful ride as we zoomed past the Llyn Trawsfynydd and on to Blaenau Ffestiniog - with Sir pointing out the mountain quarry were He had recently joined a few of the guys from the Gay Bikers for a day at the spectacular Zip World (which is not a YKK emporium, as you might think, but a breathtaking zip-wire experience...!).
Down from the mountains, it was then into the cooler, tree-lined roads through the Gwydir Forrest, and time for a much needed ice-cream stop amongst all the bikers in Betws-y-Coed to cool ourselves down.
From there, Sir took us onto the A4086, to fly past Glyder Fawr, up over the Pen-Y-Pass and into Snowdon's shadow - then slowly amble past Llanberis and the 'Electric mountain' at Gorsaf Gynhrchu Dinowig before finally making our way to Caernafon and our lovely hotel for the weekend.
We've stayed at The Celtic Royal before, on our way back from Dublin, so we knew that we were going to be treated well - and we were: with a nice big room at the back, overlooking the rock at Afon Cadnant. Feeling a little saddle sore after our long day we checked in, dropped our bags and changed into jeans, then strolled down into the town to stretch our legs. We were surprised to find lots of army vans and a huge Royal Engineers crane beside the castle walls, and two Naval cutters in the Marina together with numerous tents and rib-boats; we later discovered that there was both a special Army Services Day and the ThunderCat Racing festival that weekend.
Hungry by now, we decided to look for food - Sir's first choice was fully booked, but we found a nice table at the Stones Bistro, were Sir had a very nice Pan-fried Haddock, and the pup got adventurous with some absolutely gorgeous Canederli dumplings - and both of us stuffed ourselves cross-eyed with a scrumptious meringue roulade.
We ended what had been an absolutely perfect day by taking a long, cooling stroll around the Castle walls, watching a beautiful sunset. Then it was back to the hotel for shower and bed - although the pup and it's naughty-tongue still managed to keep Sir hot and bothered until way after midnight...
Friday, June 23, 2017
Wednesday, June 21, 2017
Like many in the crazy extended family that is our Fetish community, I am shocked and saddened to hear of the death of Si Hands
Sly was a unique and utterly inspiring character: funny, smart and sexy as fuck, founder of the Manchester Rubbermen, a full time rubber wearer and an active perverter - I mean converter - of many to the joys of rubber, a stunningly gifted photographer, and a committed and highly visible advocate for a fully diverse and inclusive scene.
I only really chatted with him on line (mostly fan-boy out-pourings over his photographic work), and was lucky enough to meet him (and his husband, Alex) in person just a few times - but even that very small connection was enough to brighten my life, and inspire me to have genuine pride in just being who I am.
The whole community is grieving - but my deepest and most personal thoughts and heartfelt condolences remain with Alex and Ollie, and with all of Si's family.
Sly we love you, and we're really going to miss you - but at least we will always have your photos to remind us of just what a star you were - and will always be.
Thursday, May 04, 2017
This weekend Sir took His dog up to Nottingham, to make a very special trip to Invincible.
We've been up to Nottingham before, but this time Sir booked us in to the Crowne Plaza; lordy - that was posh! We had a little suite of comfy chairs, a lovely huge bed (enough for an entire kennel-full of randy puppies...) and a Spa and pool to visit in the morning. We had hoped to ride up on the bike, but the weather promised rain so Sir drove us up - we still traveled in full dress leather though, which made for a big knowing smile from the Receptionist as she checked us in. We were a little early too, so she arranged for us to have a complimentary drink at the bar whilst she tried to find a room - which was nice!
Not that we spent too long drinking - not when my Man wanted to get His dog back up into our room, out of his leathers and into a harness and jock, and braced over one of those comfortable chairs so that He could plough its hungry doggy-hole...
It's been a while, but gods it felt so good to be able to open myself up to Him again. My whole self became focused around holding my ring open for Him - knees up on the arms of the chair or up on the toes of my boots, trying to make His entry as easy and comfortable for Him as I could; lucky that Sir thought to put a towel under me, because my poor chastised dog-cock was soon dripping all over - even though neither He nor I had touched it... Sir also took a nice long time toying with my nipples: reminding me that they are one of the switches that can quickly make me forget whatever discomfort my hole may be in, and get me writhing and hungry for Him incredibly quickly.
Sir fucked me like that for as long as I could stand: straddled over the chair, gasping and moaning, alternately fucking me deep and hard and then standing still whilst He let His dog clench and release it's hole around Him - working both itself and Him to a dizzying state of arousal - and when it finally got too much, He pulled me down onto all fours in front of Him, and then let me slowly and gratefully lick the cum out of Him.
Man, but that it always such a treat...!
Man and hound both sated, we then headed out for a beautiful Chinese meal, before retiring to our lovely big bed and a much needed snuggle.
The bed was so comfortable that we very nearly slept in past breakfast - and only managed to wake up because the pup's Apple Watch was nagging him to get out for its morning run...! We just managed to throw on some clothes and get to the restaurant in time - although the pup then got his Eggs Benedict and Eggs Florentine mixed up, which led to a little embarrassment when the waiter brought our food, and Sir had to point out 'that's got bacon on it, dog...!'. They were very good and took it back without a complaint, though, and made me a delicious non-meat version instead.
The dog doesn't really swim, but the hotel had a pool so we decided it would be a waste not to use it. Sir has been giving me some lessons whenever we can - and I'm proud to say that I even managed a few lengths on my back! I do know that my Man loves a good swim though, so it was an even greater pleasure just to see Him 'in His element'
All services explored, it was then time to check out and head for Invincible - the real reason for our visit.
I've had my rubber made by Invincible ever since they started trading. Of all the companies that make rubber gear, they really are the very best: everything I have had from them has been incredibly good quality, and has lasted well beyond any of the other 'cheaper' pieces I have bought from elsewhere...
As you can guess, I'm more of a whippet than your standard poodle, so I don't easily fit 'off the peg' - especially with suits - and so our trip was predominantly so that Paul could kindly measure me, and update my records. He made us very welcome, with mugs of tea and lots of anecdotes from the Manchester Rubber Men the previous weekend; we also got to look at some of the preview shots from their recent photoshoot of new designs and upcoming new products. Keep your eyes peeled: there's some seriously sexy new gear on its way!
Sir had offered to buy me a new one piece suit for my birthday (I really am the luckiest pup alive to have such a generous and thoughtful Handler!) - and so Paul not only took measurements, but also discussed designs and options with Sir: with them both agreeing that the pup would look very nicely packaged in a high-necked shoulder-zip entry catsuit, with cod-piece, rear-zip and nipple zips - all in a nicely tight-fitting 25-30 grade rubber.
Sir had also seen their new 'dirty pig' logo gear - and so had a long chat with Paul about the possibility of creating something similar for His dog, but based around a custom 'pup' design instead. Paul seemed to be incredibly interested in the idea and said he'd get their graphic designers onto it - I can't wait to see what he and the team come up with...!!!
Measurements and orders taken, it was then time to say farewell and start our journey home - so that Sir could continue on to His choir practice that evening. Needless to say, the whole journey back was filled with thoughts and conversation around rubber, and just what my Man might do to me once I am once more fully encased for His pleasure...
I really do love my Man - and am proud to be His; rubber balls to latex bone.
Sunday, February 26, 2017
Sometimes all you really need to put you back into balance is some really good QUALITY time with those whom you most care about (and love to please...)
It's been a while since either Handler's or my own life has allowed us some proper time together - but a rare conjunction of both our Geoff's being busy allowed us an almost whole day together this weekend - with a somewhat chilly but deeply pleasurable ride up over the Cotswolds, hugging my Man tight to stay warm through the leathers, and then back home and up to the playroom for some *seriously* good play. And I mean SERIOUSLY good. Making my Man's legs tremble, throat-teasing, deep-hole opening, Fuck me till I threaten to pass out, head-spinning, cartoon-star head-circling, 'I can't take anymore pleasure or I'll explode' kind of good...
Oh Lordy, yes. There really is nothing quite like some quality time with those whom you love - and love to please.
THANK YOU, Sir! I can't say often enough: I love You, balls to bone.
Tuesday, January 10, 2017
Churchill was wrong. #depression isn't a 'Black Dog'. Dogs are loyal, compassionate creatures - depression is anything but.
No, Depression is more like Joni Mitchell's "Beat of black wings" - the sound of helplessness and frustration, anger and self-destruction.
Depression is a heartless scavenger that hovers maliciously at your steps, it's sleepless beady black eye watching for you to drop your weary guard so that it can flutter in to strip you of your protective skin and gorge on your weakness.
A Depressive attack starts with just the one lone black-thought: the single crow upon the climbing frame of your mind - but one taste of blood and it gathers into an overwhelming Hitchcockian storm of beaks and claws and feathers that batters about your head, blinding and deafening you to all as it pecks and tears at the soft and tender parts of your heart and mind - leaving you hunched and bleeding and broken: a Tipi Hedren of the heart...
But worse. Depression is not some external force, or malevolent spirit from which you can escape if only you can run fast enough. Depression is YOU. It's your own mind and thoughts - the treacherous chemistry of your own brain. It's your own voice, insidious and twisted, telling you how dark and pointless life is, how pathetic and unworthy you are - how every sin of the world is your fault, because you are stupid, and ugly, and weak.
And because it knows you so intimately, it is able to block almost every internal defence and turn them against you - knows and exposes every hidden fear and weakness. You may try to fight, to argue back that life can be good, that you have value - but, it twists your words back upon themselves, turns your mind against itself in hateful echoes, and like Jacobs angel, wrestling, uses the strength of your own resistance to wear you down until it can deliver that final, cutting blow that will end the fight - and your own self-inflicting pain.
Depression is the darkest part of yourself, caught up in despite and despair; a cancer of darkness and pain twisted in on itself and wishing only to smother every touch of light and hope - so that it can silence its own pain in the black hole singularity of oblivion.
But take it from one who has survived: Depression may be a terrifying foe, but it IS yourself - and so can never truly be stronger you. The storm of black wings may be overwhelming, and terrifying - but like any storm, it can - and WILL - pass. True, it will leave you weak and bleeding, shakily reaching for the door handle of your mind and stumbling to your car - nervously checking the rear view mirror of your mind for fear of their return - but you will survive, and escape. Maybe not stronger - but certainly more wise...
at 8:25 AM