Spring Break - The Ritual

We do Spring Break a bit differently. No other people, beaches or alcohol, aside from some lovely red wine. No cars. No electricity. No running water aside from the spring fed stream behind the cabin. We "break" from the world and live for two weeks simply and peacefully and as we choose. I look forward to this each year because I  become centered and confident. The first few days are awful, that I will admit, but after that, I am at peace.

To begin,  Joseph drops me and the supplies off at the cabin. Once everything is unloaded I must strip. I will be nude these two weeks. I beg him not to do this. We are too far into the woods that we own to worry about other people, but still I am embarrassed. To allow me to at least have some clothing tucked away, locked away even, but he is adamant. No. He takes my clothes and drives away. I am to put away the supplies and get a fire going. I am also tasked with drawing a bucket of water from the stream which we will use for cleaning purposes. We have no bathroom, only an old fashioned chamber pot. It will also be my task to empty and clean this in the stream twice daily.

I have just finished my tasks when Joseph hikes back to the tiny cabin. He looks about the small cabin. One bed made up with three quilts, one table, two chairs. A fireplace, one cauldron on a swinging iron "arm", one metal kettle in which to heat water, two cupboards. One cupboard holds household items - two place settings, one cast iron skillet, loose tea, a bag of flour and other staples. Most of our food we will gather. The berries have ripened and fresh herbs are up. The fish are plentiful. If Joseph decides we need anything that is not here and cannot be gathered from the surrounding 5 miles of woods, he will hike to the car and get whatever we need.

The second cupboard holds His supplies. I am not allowed to open this cupboard but I know what it holds - mostly. Rope. carved wooden plugs and dildos, leather belts, wooden paddles, chains, wooden clothespins, leather cuffs and other surprises. Each of these he will use on me for my discipline as well as for his pleasure. Looking at this unlocked cupboard, knowing what it contains, knowing he will use each and every item on me, causes me to tremble.

I hear him on the small porch and turn to look at him. He walks into the cabin, filling the space with his presence and I sink to my knees, shaking. "Begin" he says and I do. I unbuckle his belt, unzip his jeans and free his cock. This is my focus for the next two weeks and Joseph does not believe in giving me time to acclimate. He does not believe in "easing" into this Break. I know this and am happy. I worship his cock, savoring his taste, his feel. I kiss, lick and suck his balls, My hands keep a gentle touch on his shaft. Then, I switch positions, my mouth on his cock and my hands on his balls. This is my place, my job, my only priority. He pushes deep and I gag. He keeps his cock there, deep in my throat, allowing me time to adjust, then he pulls out - just a bit - then back in. He uses my mouth until he's about to cum. It's too soon, though for him to reward me with his taste, so he pulls out and cums on my body. I hate this and he knows it. But this is the beginning and there are traditions to observe so I accept this and sit back on my heels. You tuck yourself back in your jeans. Then, you hold out your hand.

We walk into the woods and gather more firewood. This, we stack outside of the cabin. Your cum has dried on my skin now. It's whiteness crackling on my breasts. You take me to the stream and I whimper. I know just how cold this water is, but this too is part of the ritual. You stand on the bank while I walk into the stream. I was away the sticky cum, the dirt from the city, the pride of modern society. I shiver, my nipples harden and I emerge from the icy water a pure woman, free to please her man, free from societal judgment.

My skin is cold to the touch, but not for long. We go back to the cabin and I stand by the table. You open the cupboard and pull out some rope. You bend me over, my belly flat against the wood, and tie my wrists in place. Already I am beginning to cry, knowing what is to come. I hear it before I feel it. The whoose of the paddle. I cry out - no one can hear - and feel the sting more keenly on my cold skin. Again and again you paddle me until I no longer pull against the ropes. Then, and only then, do you fuck me. Later when I am soft and feminine and totally submissive again, you will make love to me gently, but for now, I need to feel your strength, your power. I need you to dominate and control me. I need strictness and discipline. And you, Dear Sir, you give me what I need. You fuck me mercilessly. You take me and use me. The hardness of the table bites into my hips. My bottom is on fire from your paddle and my pussy is tender from your pounding. Because you came earlier, it takes you quite a while to reach fulfillment again. By the time you cum, my face is as wet as my thighs and I too have reached orgasm not once, not twice,but thrice. You cum inside of me and then kiss my neck, my back. You untie me and I slip to the floor, a puddle at your feet. You let me stay there, gathering my strength again, while you rest in the chair. After a few minutes I crawl to you, kiss each of your jewels and the tip of your cock. I put my cheek on your knee and you caress my hair.

Now, now I feel like I am home.