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

anticipation

I am aware that the anticipation in me is acute.

The time draws near. He will let me know..the time, the date.

Limits are set (in the first instance). Safewords, damn I can't even remember those!

I am at the point of nervousness where I could scream.

The need for the reality to match the dream, the anticipation, the hunger. I am nearing an edge that makes me want to cry.

I feel small,

tiny,

alone,

a little adrift and lest I say out of control.

Already vulnerable, like noone can stop it.

and just a bit scared.

artist unknown

on the eve of meeting

A quick note..

Tomorrow is the day.
The place is set,
the time,
the task...no panties please.
The weather has turned cold and I so wanted to wear a summer frock!

There is no great love story,
no flutter of the heart.
I am meeting him and he me because our needs must be met.
I have grown fond of him during the last months of talking, text, phone and computer.

So tomorrow...what will I wear (besides no panties). Just to meet, to see if we click. No floggers, whips or cuffs. Just a wine, maybe a lunch.

I don't know what he looks like. I find that a little exciting. He knows what I look like. I know nothing except he reports he's clean shaven, short haired, green eyed and a few years my senior. I like the thought that he could be sitting at another table, unknown..watching.

This is the only time this will ever be.

artist unknown