Pre-marital domestic discipline

As summer turned to fall, and we both got ready to return to a more realistic academic existence, we agreed on a sort of baseline version of domestic discipline for a top and a bottom who can't get enough of BDSM but who need to finish post-graduate degrees at the same time they're living out their thrilling BDSM fantasies.

I was allowed to wear panties to class, and to the library. Despite the violation of strict Réageanism, within whose confines the sub's cunt and bottomhole must be available for use at all times without exception, I reluctantly realized that the distraction involved in constantly being reminded (which is of course what it's all about, for O) of that availability, and the potential for even more distracting embarrassment as a consequence of that being reminded (friends noticing that the seat I've just gotten up from is wet, for example, because, having been reminded of my availability, I've been unable to keep myself from thinking about what use Charles might want to make of me later), and the worry about that potential embarrassment, all just made the pure Réagean practice impracticable for someone who needed to concentrate on finishing law school. . . .

For more about the "real" me, read the Companion! You'll find the rest of this post (and it's hot, I promise!) there.