Tools Of The Trade

While we maintained a fairly well stocked bedside drawer of toys, we had a separate toolbox for most of our D/s gear.  And I do mean a literal toolbox.  It resides in the bottom of a closet and for years it had been silently awaiting the return of a friendly hand to wrap its yellow handle and bring back into the light.  That's just what I did and I brought it before Domme T so that we could reacquaint ourselves with it's contents.  Both of us had forgotten some of what was in there.

She immediately turned up her nose at some of the items and instructed me to discard them.  She doesn't like gags and there was cheaper stuff too that she wanted purged.  But there were also some real treasures that symbolized so much love and devotion.  The most notable were a paddle I made for her out of dense poly and with a handle wrapped in hockey tape.  This is a tool of pure function without consideration of aesthetics.  The contact portion of the paddle is 3"x9" so it's not an overly large paddle but it is handy and easy to wield but provides a definitive slap and despite it's somewhat diminutive size, she still must employ it with deliberate control.  It is luscious and I adore it more than any other tool we have.

The other treasured item I pulled from the box was her quirt.  It is excellent quality and a genuine riding quirt that we hand picked at a tack shop.  Her favorite color is red and her quirt is braided red and black rope with two long leather straps, each about an inch wide.  She instantly snatched it from hand a huge smile crawled across her red lips.  Her reaction was that of reuniting with an old friend and it has barely left her side since.  It provides a distinct sharp bite that always makes me jump.

Then there were the more usual fare of nipple clamps and chains, clothes pins, a small assortment of bondage gear (she's not as into the bondage aspect), and some CBT items that are something that she does enjoy employing.  In fact, I didn't know it at the time, but she'd already ordered a couple more cock straps that were enroute to us. 

She had her quirt in her lap and instructed me to move the paddle to our drawer and then put the toolbox back in the closet.  As I did so and closed the door, I knew that this time, it wouldn't have to wait long at all to be brought back out.

It was so exciting going back through our gear.  It was a solidification that were reengaging in this lifestyle in earnest.  I had butterflies and parts of my body tingled from the rekindled, albeit distant memories of the items being used on them.