need, desire, trust

There is a feeling growing in me that I want and need to give Local D everything of me. There is also a feeling of frustration at my inability to do so. I am just not brave enough to go against what Non-Dom expects and trusts me to do. I am not brave enough to go against what Non-Dom and I have agreed and the terms under which he is allowing me to see D. I am embarrassed to say what I want. But there is a feeling growing in me that D is not getting what he may need from me though he denies this. I have never met such a patient man. So much self-control. I have begged him, in the heat of the moment for things he and I have not agreed upon. I have pushed my face so hard into his groin in absolute unadulterated need, lust and want.

 

He has never even come close to answering my begging. He says it will never happen unless we have revisited our agreement. In that way he exhibits the highest sense of integrity. When I started this journey some three or so years ago, the first thing I thought I learned was about the nature of male sexuality. I embraced it, loved it and finally felt I understood it. I came to the conclusion that men were purely sexual beings. But the one thing I didn't understand is a man's ability of self control. I don't know if all men have this in them, but Local D has always impressed me with his, at least once I came to recognise it. It took me a while to understand this fundamental sense of self control was present in him. I guess I feel in the moment I can safely beg him to do things to me, and I do mean beg, forbidden by our agreement knowing that part of my brain is thinking, 'no no no ...I'm not allowed to do it'. In that moment I feel safe in the knowledge that he is strong enough for both of us, not to cross that line.

I really wish I wasn't a woman who cared about Non-Dom's wishes and I could do these things. I have never been a prude. But when it come to these things, I feel an overwhelmingly dramatic sense of guilt underpinned by my commitment to Non-Dom. I hate that.

 

I read a woman's blog here in blog land. She is amazingly like me. I have read her from her first post. Her career path, her life path: I swear we have been separated at birth. One difference? She does not appear to be having much sex with her hub (I think) and she IS having amazing all-in sex with her Dom she found about 6 months ago. I envy her that.

Non-Dom trusts me. Trust has been a shaky piece of ground over the last few years. We have worked hard to trust each other again. I don't think it will ever be blind trust like I had before, but there is trust again. I love him and as much as there are gaping holes in my fulfilment, the love is the thing that encourages me not to break the trust. I have already skirted the boundary and dipped my toe on the other side. Non-Dom would not approve at all of what I have allowed with Local D.

photographer unknown. Source: Internet

phone call control

He called this morning.

I had been given a lovely task.
Today I was to cum 8 times with the aid of Mr Buzzy. Just when I was feeling all disconnected and Loosey Goosey-like.

I made it to 5 quite quickly and easily.
On my knees, Mr Buzzy doing his magic.
A text sent to the Outback told him:

One, Good morning Sir.

Two, an early start.

Three, quiet and gentle,

Four, loud and proud,

Five, hot on the heels of four and a little tired.

The next text to the Outback reported I was resting comfortably.

The phone rang. I looked on the caller ID to see with some glee that it was Him.

'Hello Sir!' in my happiest excited voice.

'Put the nipple clamps on and cum three more times. Now.'

The eighth had barely subsided when he demanded another.
I heard myself  beg him in a breathless sweaty voice, 'No, please, I can't.'
He is fond of saying, 'I don't care, DO IT!'
So again another one. Number 10 rolled in behind that...then he wanted one more!!!
I called him an unflattering name secure in the knowledge that he couldn't reach my arse from where he was. I will no doubt pay for my expletive when he returns. I may be lucky though. He may forget...or not ;).

'Put Mr Buzzy away now and don't touch it, or yourself ,until Friday. We may do this again if I decide you deserve it."

The nipple clamps had to stay on for another 15 minutes though he threatened to lengthen this if I gave him any more attitude. We talked while I waited the 15 minutes. The whip he was searching for, the length and shape he wanted. I asked him if I could request something. He has never denied me, not really, but maybe that's the kinky bitch in me needing everything he encourages me to need. I asked him if he would clamp my clit. 'Of course!' he said 'Good Girl' (oh heavenly words). I have never asked him for anything directly. I have hinted either by action or in word, but never really asked directly for him to hurt me, *do* things to me. His enthusiastic reply made me backtrack a little. He won't allow that. Once it is said, once the desire is made explicit, the need known, he will move all obstacles to *make it so number one*.

Meanwhile...

My left nipple cried in pain.

At the fifteen minute mark to the second according to his watch, which seemed a lot slower than the clock I was watching, he told me to take the clamps off my nipples.

'Right first.'

'Ouch!

'Left.'...

I screamed..it really hurt!

Really!

All in all though, an erotic start to my day.





photographer unknown. Source: internet

adrift without a D to my s

I have been thinking after a quick read over on Vesta's blog and her post 'home coming'. It occurs to me that with Local D away and I am feeling a little homeless.  A little lost disjointed and disconnected. I am achy and pouty and bloody needy tonight. I feel a sense of displacement. There is no comfortable peace, just the frustration of waiting and wanting for a place to rest. 

The greedy lil girl can't take phone calls easily and Local D's work commitments means he is not readily contactable, although if I text he does text back within a few hours (not terrific when one is seeking permission to cum!). He is in such remote locations that he hasn't even got internet access!! there's my first world problem for today.

Non-Dom asked if Local D had gone away. I nodded and said I was a little stir crazy. I said I was missing the kiss of the flogger, the sting of his hand. To his credit, Non-Dom held me by the throat and kissed me hard..bringing a smile to the girls face and to a some degree bringing me home.

unknown photographer. Source: Internet

patience

 I was very excited to get an email  from within blog land in which my correspondent described how they admired that I found a solution; a way for Non-Dom to accept the presence of a Dom in my life. I do agree, I have been fortunate.  I would be unable to do this in secrecy. The guilt would sap all enjoyment for me. I have never 'cheated' on Non-Dom though seriously at times I could not have been blamed for doing so!

Life is complicated isn't it? We all have needs and desires and it's how we acknowledge them and have them sated that is the real dilemma.

Much of my social world requires that monogamy be held up as a basic pillar. This often doesn't fit well with the desires ordinary people find inside themselves. The trick is to answer them without hurting anyone else.

I have limits determined by my Non-Dom hub. I am not allowed to engage in certain activities with my Dom which makes it hard sometimes. Local D and I met at a time when he had another girl. He was seeking someone to supplement his experience with her as she was away for extended periods of time. So really I was only ever meant to be a stand-in. A body to replace hers when she was unavailable. This suited me. I didn't want any emotional entanglements, and I didn't want to be relied on to be His sub in case it interfered with my relationship with Non-Dom, which is a delicate balance at the best of times.

The limits placed upon me by Non-Dom were agreeable to local D as he had no need for the things that I was asked not to do. Further Non-Dom has always had the right of veto. If he turned around tomorrow and said, "Stop seeing him", I would be bound to stop. In this way Local D and I play together but the level of commitment to each other that I see in other relationships here in blog land is somewhat muted (I think). He views me as his girl outside the room and inside it. The practicalities however of our separate lives and my relationship with Non-Dom mean that sense of belonging is less than it would be if I were able to commit to him completely. I am aware that this would not be for everyone in the all or nothing world view of D/s, but that's where a girl has to take what she can get and what she gets is actually more than she ever dreamed possible.

I see this as a progressive and developing relationship though and as with all boundaries and limitations, I think they will expand and wear down in the fullness of time. I am nothing if not a patient girl.

via ruero.com, photographer pictured ;)

 

 

Whip

Now we know that my relationship with local D is about play.
He has been 'soft' with me...his words not mine..but yes I agree. We laugh a lot together and I admit I really don't know what darkness might fill his mind.

I was adamant that this softness as he described it was not some sort of failure or mistake. I am aware that he has been gentle with me. He has been this way because I am new to this game. I am aware he didn't want to overwhelm me or scare me away. I admit though I am keen for him to step it up a notch or two. How he does that without losing what we have I am not sure.

So yesterday we were chatting online and he asked the question,

"How much do you trust me, honestly?"

I took this to mean how much do I trust him with my well being, when he is in charge of me physically.

"Implicitly" and I have to say I do. I have every confidence that he will hit me, beat me, whip me and I will come out the other side relatively unscathed. Bruises and marks notwithstanding. They will fade.

Then he began to talk about the whip. Now this would be new. A whip. Crack that whip!

"How would you feel about the whip?"

I jumped at the opportunity is the reaction I had. I have never really given it much thought before because he had earlier said it was too much for this lil chick. Well the delicious little whore was getting excited for a lot of unusual reasons. I have learned I am not a pain slut, so why would I be excited about the whip? I have learned I am a slut for control. I need to be overwhelmed with pure unadulterated strength. Unfortunately Local D likes the odd bit of pain, to inflict it. Here is where he has been easy on me. He knows I don't appear to get off on pain in and of itself. As part of a very hard flogging. As part of a slap and spank..oh yes please. But it is not the reason I get wet. It is being held down and controlled that is the clincher for me.

So this leads to my questions around the whip. I am led to believe that the whip is harsh and painful. In fact he says he wants to move to the whip because I can take all he can give with the flogger (apparently - mental note to self...scream more!). I got all excited at the thought of the whip. I keep saying I want to try everything. The girl doesn't know what she doesn't know. I have begged him, implored him to pull everything out of his bag of tricks. His reply...

"Be careful what you wish for."

So now I'm excited and nervous...more nervous...but very very excited.

I'm excited! Unknown Photographer. Source: the Intranet

a D session (part three)

Minutes ran by her.

Sweat beaded on her brow and between her breasts.

He had not allowed her to cum. Her predicament amusing Him too much. She always looked at her most precious when her face was contorted in need. The buzz of the magic wand on her clit made her needy in a way that showed most clearly in her eyes.

He watched her,  kneeling hogtied in front of Him, the crop shaft between her teeth supporting the metal rings that pulled on the clover nipple clamps. Her nipples and breasts stretched, twisted and pulled with each back thrust of her neck as her eyes rolled and travelled to the ceiling. The ecstasy of her slut pussy driving her writhing as she tried desperately not to cum without His say so.

He got hard watching His slut as she tried to master her predicament. As she wriggled and squirmed. Tension building quickly in her slut cunt and whore body. She was so beautiful and becoming more so with each time He had her.

He could see her coming close, it didn't take long with this tool. Her cunt ached for it. Wet for it. Was a whore for it. He slid His large rough fingers between the black leather collar and her soft flesh. He had only recently placed the collar on her. She had not been easy to 'collar' even though it was just for play. She had been nervous of the power of this small piece of leather. She had come to it over time and He had been very patient, almost too patient He thought to Himself. He wanted to explore this lilone though and He knew she was skittish. She had needed the time He gave her to trust Him. His patience was rewarded with her submission to Him. Though He remained cautious and He had not pushed her as far as He might until now, she met His challenges each time. She had not only acquiesced to His demands but she went further, driven not by her conscious mind, but pushed by her visceral need. She was hungry, insatiable and unashamed. She was perfect.

She was building, becoming desperate, drooling with the crop shaft between her teeth. He knew she'd hate that. She struggled with the acceptance of the loss of control over her body entirely. He knew any moment she would make a decision that He would not like. He loved it when she gave Him an excuse. Then it happened, the crop fell from her teeth pulling with it the chains that lead to her swollen nipples. The shaft was blocked from its inevitable descent by His forearm as he worked the wand into her slut pussy. Their eyes met. Hers filled with trepidation at the unknown consequence of a failed instruction. His told a story of a satisfaction that filled her with foreboding. He threw her backwards clasping the collar tightly in His fingers. She let out a gasp and a whimper as the paraphernalia attached to her nipples pulled and twisted in tortuous climax. He brought her to a sudden holt inches from the floor. Her back arched and her cunt exposed to Him for His pleasure, His rag doll whore could barely contain herself. She was losing all ability to control anything of herself . She gave in, fell, she was His in that moment.

"Pleasepleaseplease. May I cum. Please?" She pleaded with Him. Not really knowing how she would stop the energy escaping her cunt if He disallowed it's relief.

"Please what?" His calm slow voice drove her desperation.

"PleaseSirmayIcumnow?" Tears welling in her pleading eyes.

"CUM!"

The fury washed over her and through her. He body, arched back and supported only by His strong arm contorted in it's ecstasy. His hand slid to her clenching pink flesh, pushing into her as she clenched around him. She screamed her ecstasy to Him. She was His in every way in that moment. She loved Him, worshipped Him, needed Him and His command in every part of her existence and fibre. Tears flooded her eyes as He pulled her forward like the rag doll she had become. His control, His embrace, His voice, His girl.

"good girl."



photographer unknown, source:intranet

preparation

Tomorrow.

1015, not  minute earlier, not a minute later.

There will be consequences for a breach.

Tomorrow.

Plans swimming in readiness,

prepare the lunches,

kiss the family, sending them to their day.

Shower.

Hair removed,

hair washed,

nails painted, fuck me red.

lips glossed,

eyes defined.

Skin massaged with creams.

Body dressed.

Growing heat,

wet,

nervous,

excited,

drive...

1015

Not a minute earlier, not a minute later,

Yes Sir.

photographer unknown. Source - Internet

here is a small task to do on the way

I stopped for a bottle of wine as instructed, my fishnets travelling up under my coat at 10 in the morning had me nervously tugging downwards at my coat. I was on my way to see Local D. He said he was going to push.

I drifted through the wine shop perusing the wines at 10 in the morning. The attendant asked if needed help. 'No, thank you.' I was terrified he might ask for what occasion I needed the wine (uncomfortable shifting on my cherry pop patent pumps with the little red ribbons). What will you be eating? (ahem-blushing). White or red? Though I could answer this question I turned and smiled and  declined his assistance. I noticed his eyes drop to my heeled fishnetted legs. He might have thought I had on a short skirt underneath as the coat I wore dropped to the mid thigh and there was no skirt peeping out under it. In fact the attendant would have been mistaken had he thought that.
Maybe he knew the truth. Maybe he thought to himself, here is a man's girl, I have seen this before. She is naked under that coat but for an adorable red corset cut to show her breasts in such a way that one wonders how her nipples remain just hidden by the edging of black silk. Her round arse is essentially bare. She is wearing no panties, the net of the fish tightly encasing her curves. She is wet about now. The flush of her cheek belies her heat and her quickened breath tells the tale of her fear of being found out by me. Yes she is girl on her way to her Dom. Doing just as he has instructed even though she is blushed with embarrassment at doing so. She has been here before, this girl. I know her and her husband. He usually buys a bottle of Shiraz, a nice big red from the region nearby to share with a meal. His wife though is after a white, a bottle to share in the late afternoon when the days activities have quite worn her out and she lay in his arms resting. Maybe he knew that truth.

I chose and paid for a Pinot Gris from the near by hills. I looked at the men behind the counter, wondering if they could see the ruby red corset through my coat, intricately beaded with tiny black glass squeezing my breasts tight and pushing them up and out the top of the overcoat as an offering. The corset pulled my waist all the way in until it's edges met with the ribbons pulled tight. Earlier, as I pulled the silk ribbon I thought I must have lost weight, this corset shouldn't completely meet! I would have to be careful not to lose anymore or my corsets (the number of which is not unsubstantial) would no longer shape me in the curvy way they do. (Is anyone else laughing as hard as me! yeah right lilo..stop losing weight..I don't think I ever started) I supposed this corset must have been bigger than the others.

Once back in the car I pulled my coat up my fishnetted arse nicely exposing it and sitting proper on the car seat. I thought of Daddy all those kilometers away. He had been the first to teach me to sit proper. The fishnets lead all the way down to my follow me, fuck me heels. I was rather successfully doing my cherry tart meets burlesque theme today. I drove out of the car park waving to the local mums from school who were getting into and out of their cars in the car park and I wondered if they were all buying wine on their way to be spanked and used.

unknown photographer, sourced from the interweb

sooky sub girl

When I went in search of a Dom man to lead me through this clouded maze of need and desire, I thought he'd be a man experienced in the art of spanking, Domination and control. I never dreamed he would have access to an adequately equipped 'dungeon'. This is the first word that clattered in my brain. DUNGEON! I screamed silently inside my head. Is he for real? Oh yes! most decidedly, though I never heard that word again. It was the dark room which I kind of liked because it was both dimly lit and dark things to sate dark desires lived there. After my very first visit to the room I began to call it the quiet room. It is exceptionally quiet. No sounds come in..and I expect the reverse might be true.

I am new to this. Oh I have been thinking and playing online, exploring in cyber and dabbling with non-Dom for a while. I didn't have the courage though (or the permission from non-Dom) to step forward into the light and follow the darkness inside. So given the opportunity to bend to the will of Local D, I am learning. I am accepting. I am trying hard to be that good girl we all seek to be, but there are some things I am sooky about (some might be an understatement).

I have to say...I hate the 20! (explanation to follow). I am not fond (really not fond) of the nipple clamps. Someone wrote once to me to avoid clover clamps at all costs, to start with something less daunting. All well and good until one comes across a man with clover clamps hanging from his belt and who is not in the least afraid to use them. I have discovered a fear of the crop, well the handle of the crop really not the little soft leather end that drags across hot pink skin and soothes the sting. Anyway you get my drift. I am experiencing so much paraphernalia my mind and senses are exploding.

I might hate all these things and be a bit sooky about them but I note an undeniable attraction to them, a need for them to caress ansd sting my flesh. Here's where my sick little bitch comes out to play. I'm not sure if I want him to hurt me, to cause pain because I am not aware that I particularly like the hurt and pain. It's something I endure. It delights him to see me squirm. It even delights him to hear me lose control and call him a 'cruel bastard' as he removes the nipple clamps or rips a row of particularly grippy pegs away from the flesh biting on my breasts. (oh yes I never thought I would be doing the pegs!). It delights him too to sooth the hurt afterward.

So the sooky girl feels her sook often (I never said I was good at this sub stuff, in fact I struggle with it and wonder if I really am submissive in one way or another almost daily).

In the quiet room when the flogger hits and it hurts there is laughter. As it goes further I am quieted. 'Stick you bottom out' he says as I curl it under, involuntarily hiding his target from the kiss of the flogger. The bottom complies. I quiet even more. Then I am aware there is no sound, a small moan or whimper as the flogger gets harder. I am aware that I only feel the hard connection. I know it is hard because my whole body is moved forward by the thump of the flogger on my arse. My mind is thinking but my mouth and my body go quiet. I love this feeling.

Then later...

'I am going to give you 20 and you will count. If you miss one we will start again.'

I hate the 20. It's hard to get to the end. I am a little distressed by the end. The flogger has been going for so long before the 20 and I have been OK, but when I have to count the final 20 it is hard to get to the end without tears. It seems that by counting I am brought back from that place where I am not really feeling the stroke anymore..certainly not in a stingy way, but only in a thump.

I don't think I like the 20 at all...

Bela Borsodiskin - flicker 11

the rough

It is still very early days but he said he wanted to take me further. I had hinted about the rough stuff my desire to have it incorporated int our dynamic.

I have experienced it with non-Dom. We have played with it for some time. The difference is (I think) I trust non-Dom implicitly with my safety. He 'man-handles' but doesn't hurt.

Local D wanted to take the man-handling further.

"How far is too far?" he was concerned with my newness to this phase of my life.

Well people, I don't know what I don't know.

My bottom was nicely warmed and stinging. His fingers slid between my slick lips."Oh my girl is so wet...little slut" he grinned.

He spun me around and caught me by the throat, his right hand lifting and quickly slapping my cheek. The shock I felt was phenomenal. I caught his gaze and before the gasp from my lips had expired his hand connected with my left cheek again, and again. I flinched each time his hand came into view. The response in my body was plain. My cunt clamped down, my nipples burst into hard buds, my head began to spin. I couldn't catch my breath. I was so completely turned on.

He pushed me back, his hand still on my throat, slaps from his huge hand rained down on my breasts and my cheek. Feelings of submission began to overwhelm me. Tears welled as he spun me around, his fist twisting in my hair his forearm pinning my neck against the wall. Distress began to well in me as the shock subsided. I tried to catch my breath, unable to think in any sort of clear way. Panic welled with the tears as his hand struck my bottom. Then all at once, I realised  I was safe, that he wouldn't hurt me, through the fear and panic I realised I trusted him. My body and mind gave in. The struggle and panic subsided. My body relax and I waited. I waited under the slaps and stings. He spun me around by my hair, his face softened. He stroked my cheek, wiped my tears.

"Good girl."

His arms drew me in, holding me, making it better.

I remained, in such a primal way, so very turned on.

breathing

I have taken the plunge, I am breathing.

I know this sounds strange and a little flakey, but I swear I am breathing more deeply, more evenly and just so relaxed.

The date came around again. I dressed, I was excited...no fear, just pure excitement. I felt sexy, strong. I felt so beautiful.

He took me through the range of emotion that I love so much. The kinky little bitch loves to feel fear, loves to be brought to tears. He did that. He appreciated me, he brought me to my knees. Giggling, laughing..screaming in pain, fearing it but wanting it. Kinky lil bitch.

I just can't believe it is so much fun!

Today, my breath is deep, all the way to the bottom of my lungs. Pure and healing. I am walking tall and the world is amazingly bright.

I think I need another hit before it wears off!

Photographer: www.rauldap.com

a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage

...so Shakespear says...

I throw around a lot of characters. It's a deliberate act designed to obscure whats really going on. Partly I guess because this blog was never started to find an audience but as a journal for me. Somewhere I could keep my secrets and live in anonymity without the risk of ever being found out.

Since I started though, I am aware that there are people who read my journey and appear to read regularly, not thousands but enough that I feel want to lay out the cast a little more clearly. There are people now also with whom I converse if we happen to pass each other in certain IM applications (you know who you are). They are people I admire for the words and stories they write. Truth be told it is all those people who belong here, not me. This is just a journal. I am a visual artist more than an artist of the written word. In the vanilla world I express myself with pictures of one kind or another. So why not a picture blog or tumblr? Well, we come back to the journal. The need for me to record my journey of secrets in words. Not Tumblr because my pictures are my own, and to retain some sort of intellectual property rights over ones creativity, tumblr is not the way to share. So I post on the Internet but in a vanilla picture 'sharing' site. One or two of my pictures have been sucked into tumblr and pinterest, but on the whole not too many have vanished.

So here is the cast as it stands,

Non-Dom (respectfully) - My partner of about 15 years. We have tried D/s together but it was clear early on that the exploration I needed to pursue was not for him. After long and protracted negotiations, non-Dom gave his permission for me to seek a Dominant male outside our relationship. This is not something he would normally do and there are boundaries that must be observed. For the moment I am happily complying with these limits but life has a funny habit of changing a girl and I am aware that this may not always be the case. Part of his decision turns him on, the other part disturbs him. He fears that I will fall in love with a Dominant man and leave for the greener grass. I will do everything in my power to prevent this from happening because as we all know the greener grass is always astro-turf and that would be the ultimate betrayal don't you think?

Marvellous Mentor (Daddy) - geographically distant and chronologically my senior MM or Daddy has been part of this journey for a around a year now. Truth be told I'm not really sure when I received his email first. He was an open man sending me an open email. I remember it being so open that I was concerned for this privacy. What if I was someone who could not be trusted? I took it as a naivety on his part, but I don't think so, I think he is just a trusting man and can 'read' a lot into a person by what they write. I think he had been reading my blog for a while before he sent me an email. We emailed a lot and I opened up to him in the most extraordinary of ways. he began to mentor me. To guide me and support me albeit from a great distance. He was so open with his life that it became clear very early on that we had a huge number of parallels in our lives. He had contacted me at a time in my life when I was struggling emotionally, psychologically, physically, in fact in every way imaginable. He was a welcome relief in the daily struggle that my life was then. I was always aware too how easily he trusted me with who he was and what his life was. He is an amazing man and I am grateful that he chose to stick with me that way he did. He is the one who can be credited with finding a lot of the pictures here on this blog. He always seems to know where I am and what I am thinking.

Local D (Mister) - well here is the new-comer to the group. He is the local man I have found to explore TTWD with. I have secrets from him. I trust him with my safety but not yet my secrets. We had talked for months before we met and we have just begun to play physically. A mind blowing moment in my journey. So He is the one I thought I would never find let alone be brave enough to be with offline and into the real world.

How is non-Dom coping? Well in short, the first encounter with Local D was not good for us (non-Dom and me). Non-Dom found the marks on my breasts confronting. More bloody negotiation! In reality this is a journey that we are both taking. A man who will let his wife explore with other men something that he won't, can't or for what even reason give her, is not to be sneezed at or discredited. To me this is one of the bravest and kindest acts of any man. II am not such a good and selfless person, I could not do the same for him.

breathe

I'm ill. I'm pouty. The girl wants to come out to play but she's really not well enough to come out from under the blanket.

The date is set, I am hoping to be well enough to play with Local Dom on Friday. He thinks not. I say Pleeeeeease Sir, Mister D. let me come up for air, let me breath.

He says, not if you are not up to it My girl.

We talked about stepping things up. Rougher and harder. This just makes me smile..I find I trust Him. Our first time together was a 'testing the waters' run. Now He knows what the girl needs. He knows how to play her. She needs this Friday..like air after a deep dive she needs to breathe..she needs to fly and float.

the quiet room

I was late, very late.
I threw on my shoes, those ones I can't easily walk in. I had walked quickly up the drive and found the door at the end. Slipping on my black patent peep toe shoes I knocked on the door.
He opened it.
I apologised
"I'm so sorry."
I had been extremely nervous, I felt like a girl. I had not felt like this since I was a girl.
He took it in his stride, assured me it was OK (at this time) and invited me in.
He lead me through a small outdoor courtyard to into warm dimly lit but inviting antechamber.

"Are you alright" He said it gently and was to check again and again during our time together.
I must have looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights. I nodded. I was nervous but He held my hand and pulled me further into the next room after closing the door behind me.

I walked in to a carpeted area. He let my hand go as I stared about this place. It was a purpose built room, warm and quiet, so very quiet and dimly lit. Some candles drew focus to dark corners of the room. It seemed like forever that I gazed at the furniture in the room. It was designed to restrict, to restrain. Shiny chains hung from the ceiling. Behind me was a small bathroom and outside the door though which I had just passed was a bedroom with an inviting four poster bed, plush and alive with possibilities.

My eye was drawn to the left and on a bureau within arms reached was all sorts of  delicious things layed out. There were paddles and floggers, nipple clamps, and a small plastic box of pulleys and chains and a white rounded wooden pole.  My eyes settle on a set of cuffs. Black with red trim. My fingers traced all of these things on the bureau. I luxuriated in the tactile sensations of the instruments under my fingertips.  There were other things but my eyes were too busy in the dim light to allow my mind to settle for too long on any formed thought.

Instead of nervous I was becoming excited.  I began to feel an overwhelming sense of belonging. I belonged here in this room with all of its magic unfolding in front of me.  He stood close behind me, watching me and whispering some words when I'd touch or notice things His hand gently running over my back and in my hair. It was soothing and exciting. It was easy...it was so easy, like I belonged right there in a way I am not aware I had ever felt before.

He led me to the centre of the room. He began to unbutton my top and slipped it off me laying it quietly on the chair.

He walked around me tracing his finger over my red red knock 'em dead bra. His fingers ran down my back and unlocked the tiny clasps of the red lace fabric, freeing my breasts.

"Take off your skirt."

I closed my eyes and took a breath holding it. I couldn't watch what came next as I did as I was instructed.

Alice was leaping down the rabbit hole, naked in front of a man other than her non-Dom. She hadn't known anyone else in over 15 years. She was beginning to think like a Mills and Boon novel!

"Hands behind your back."

That was the hardest bit.
Exposed
Being naked for Him the first time.
Standing while He looked at me. Not covering while he circled me. Touched me.
My pussy clamping down.
I closed my eyes and hid from Him, avoiding his eyes.

It was easy after that.
So easy.
So completely natural.

"Kneel"

He sat in front of me and put cuffs on me.
Pinching and stroking my nipples. Touching me.
Touched by another man.
 It was natural  and so very exciting....in the quiet room.

aftermath

He'll never read this, not here, but I will tell him..


I was exhausted last night.


Today I am very sore...muscles and the sting in my arse.


Cumming so much has left all my muscles reminding me of my adventure.
There are marks, pretty marks. I looked down and saw the red stripes across my breasts and I knew I had walked out of the fantasy to exactly where I needed to be.
I loved cumming, collapsing into you, supported by you, though I tried my hardest to remain standing.

It was great fun..I had soooo much fun. Was it supposed to be that much fun? I feel like a new addiction has begun. I have found my drug. I need it like air, this thing we called submission. I didn't feel particularly sub-like though. I was just having too much fun being cheeky and bratty, though I suspect I paid for it in an extra stroke or two.


My nipples are VERY sore, I had been warned about clover clamps, but I guess I didn't have much choice when all was said and done...OUCH!

I didn't think you were particularly rough. I think you were taking it easy on me. More please Sir. I wonder if you may have been caught off guard by my laughter and ...well frankly sense of  joy and just forgot to be too rough ..lol..it was so much fun though. This kinky little chick also loved the tears. That gammit of emotional places to which you lead me.


I came home and had a bath nursing the sting in my arse and the memories in my minds eye, tears rolled from my eyes from the release I felt. So much attention from you. I felt very selfish.


It was exactly what I needed, where I needed to be and so much more than I expected. Relief in being allowed to let go, and I did let go. Relief in being allowed to be who I want to be, who I am, deep inside.


The picture could have been me. The flogger, the heels, the wriggly lil girl. Squirming, writhing, avoiding. With each stroke the sting became more acute. Then the spank of your hand propelling me forward. Your touch caressing, soothing the sting., wiping the tears from my cheek. 

Thank you...so much x