A new collar for me…..look what Richard gave me! I am so excited…and happy. It means something to us both…I mean a collar is pretty important in this type of relationship. Symbolic of ownership in a way….and it has the perfect ring for him to connect or tie me to something. And it looks pretty on me….
I am going to start to add pictures to my blog. Let me know what you think!
I recently had the occasion to mention the words “Dom etiquette” to pixiepie. We had been chatting with a blogging friend of hers, during which the conversation, begun innocently enough, turned into an online Dom’ing of the two other chat participants. It was only later, in a sidebar chat with pixie, that it occurred to me that I was in serious breach of Dom etiquette. I had started Dom’ing a submissive without the permission of her Dominant. I felt pretty bad about that. Anyway it gave me the opportunity to discuss it with pixie, and I told her that it was really bad form at a D/s party (for example), to hit on a submissive, or even suggest that you would like to Dom her, without having a conversation with her Dom first.
I guess the exception might be if the Dom were making an inquiry to confirm the existence of the D/s relationship, or looking for the submissive to make an introduction to the Dom to facilitate such a conversation. It seemed natural to me that the same etiquette ought to apply online as well, even though the Dom’ing is of a mental sort, not a physical sort. We all know that the mental is at least as important as the physical, perhaps more so.
I know that the nature of the internet, and blogs especially, is that people get to know one another, and yet retain that distance, or anonymity, that might suggest that the common etiquette might be loosened a bit. And I agree to a point. For example, when someone comments on pixie’s blog how desirable they find her, and they do it publicly, where it is visible to me, I take absolutely NO offense at it. Usually, it has a bit of tongue-in-cheek in it as well. No one thinks that pixie is going to take it seriously. Nor does she feel it necessary to report it to me. It is innocent fun among internet friends in a transparent setting. But the way that I did it, in a private chat, was just not acceptable. And I regret it.
So, to the submissive in question (you know who you are), I apologize. I am sorry if I put you in a position where you had to either admit to an indiscretion (albeit electronic) or neglect to mention something to your Dom that he would probably be annoyed to hear about. I would certainly be a bit annoyed to discover that a Dom began making suggestive Dom-like comments to pixie in a private conversation and I expect your Dom is no different. And if the Dom in question should be reading this with knowledge of my indiscretion, I apologize to you as well.
“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”
I obeyed him without a second thought. It was immediate and the expectation was there from him that it would be. I opened my mouth even though I felt his cum cooling across my chest. I felt him rub a finger through it and rub it across my tongue and deep into my mouth. He did it again and then told me to swallow. Again, I obeyed him instantly. A moment later his hand was between my legs working me towards another orgasm. It was amazing how wet and hot I was even after all I had just experienced. He had just taken me through one of the most intense scenes ever. I am not ready to write about that yet. It is enough to say for now that I was in a deep submissive state as I lay there beside him. I am not sure how he was able to pull another orgasm from me yet when he whispered in my ear for me to cum for him I did. I closed my eyes and I felt my body tremble and press into his hand. He left his hand there playing in my wetness for a few moments as my breathing slowed. It was a languid feeling. His hand was soaked when he finally pulled it away. He showed me how wet I was….told me what a slut I was for being that wet. He rubbed his hand, still wet with my juices across my breasts picking up what was left of his cum. He rubbed his hand across my face and neck smearing the stickiness across my skin. Few things to me have been as erotic as that small act. It took something from me. It was objectifying and it made me feel owned. Very owned. Like I said, it took something from me and I am not sure what it was only that it wasn’t mine to keep. And even as it took from me it gave me so much. How can I ever explain that?
I have never experienced a relationship quite like this before. I am not taking anything away from what I had with Mark, which was truly a special relationship that will forever live in my heart as an introduction to all that I am experiencing now. In fact I contribute much of my openness and eagerness to explore what Richard demands of me because my experience with Mark was so positive.
Yet Richard has a way of finding pieces of submission hidden deep inside of me. Pieces that I hand to him willingly, pieces of myself that no one else has touched, pieces that will remain his long after he has left my life. Submitting to him comes easy to me now. There are a million reasons why. One being that he wouldn’t tolerate anything less than my complete submission. It is something that I rarely have to think about anymore. When I am with him it is my mindset, my state of mind, it is who I am. I am at the point where I have stopped questioning how we kind of fell into this as quickly as what we did. There are many reasons.
My experiences with him are becoming more and more intense. It is more than just the pain that I take for his pleasure, it is more than the submission I offer him that I know he treasures. It is because there is not a doubt in his mind that he can do anything to me. I find the appeal of this on my side interesting because you would think it would leave me shaken and unnerved that I allow myself to submit so completely to another person. It has the opposite effect on me. Instead of fearful it makes me feel secure, instead of nervous I feel confident. It’s about giving everything up to him and only allows the sensations to flood my body. I have no worries of pleasing him, he takes his pleasure. I have no worries that what I offer is not enough because he takes all that he needs. I think that he is aware that he will find no struggle with me as I submit to him. I know that for some people this would not work. Some Doms enjoy the struggle, the conquest, and the ultimate surrender. For Richard though I don’t think it is about winning or overcoming my resistance. It is meeting no resistance that confirms my submission to him. It is the very definition of submission. I can only imagine how that makes him feel.
I have my belly button pierced. It is my only piercing so far other than a couple in each of my ears. Eventually I will have others but I am not sure when or where. I am thinking of a labia piercing or maybe a clitoral hood….Richard would rather I not as he says they get in the way. So…we’ll have to see where that goes.
Richard noticed the other day that the tiny circle of skin circling my ring was redder than it should have been. I hadn’t noticed as it wasn’t bothering me. I decided to take out my piercing for a couple of days and use some Neosporin on it just in case.Well, you know how fast it takes a piercing like that to begin to tighten up- even when you aren’t covering it with a healing ointment twice a day. Yesterday morning I tried to put my piercing back in and I met with a bit of resistence. It started to hurt because I was messing with it so much so I stopped. I decided to wait and let Richard do it. I can’t hurt myself but I knew Richard wouldn’t have a problem with it. 🙂
And now the point of this post….and I write this knowing I risk the sadistic image of my Dom forever.
I asked him if he would put my piercing back in for me. And this is what he said- in all seriousness…no sarcasm, I swear.
‘Ugh..I don’t know if I can do that pixie…. I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”
🙂
I am still laughing.
It is necessary to write, if the days are not to slip emptily by. How else, indeed, to clap the net over the butterfly of the moment? For the moment passes, it is forgotten; the mood is gone; life itself is gone. ~Vita Sackville-West
Every once in awhile Richard and I will have a scene together and it will be my most fervent wish that one of us had remembered to bring a camera to the apartment. Tomorrow I will have one. Today I didn’t but there is a picture captured so clearly in my mind I may never let it go. It is of me against the cross. I am naked and Richard is standing in front of me. He has already placed a heavy clamp on either side of my cunt and has hung small weights from the hooks. He has meticulously attached heavy wooden clothes pins to the tight skin of my breasts. They seem to be everywhere. They look like petals around my nipples. He has them along the inside of my arms and down my side towards my waist line. They are across my tummy and right above where my pubic hair line would be if I had pubic hair.
I ached.
The picture is still clear in my mind. And maybe it isn’t a picture at all. Maybe it is a video…because in my mind it is moving. I am reliving the pain, reliving the pleasure of his touch, the thrill of knowing I am close to my limit. Excited and hot because I know he can put me there, that he can do whatever he pleases with me. I feel him pressing against me knowing as he does his body presses on the pins pulling and tearing at my skin. He hears my moans, he ignores my pleas for mercy. He runs his hands over the pins feeling their tight resistance. He is cruel today. He pulls at them and hears my soft begging. I want him to stop but I know that he won’t. He feels the sweat dripping off of me from concentrating on the pain, on staying above the white noise in my head. He knows it is taking everything I have to stay with him, sub space beckons to me.
Richard darkly reminds me that the worst is yet to come. They hurt so much worse when he takes them off. He yanks one off of my breast just to show me. I hear it hit the floor. He presses his finger into the pain knowing the skin beneath the pin is raw and aching as it fills back up with blood. They have been on a long time. He pulls a few more pins off. I press myself as deep into the wood of the cross as I can. I hate the words that come out of my mouth. I am begging him to not take them off…and to please take them off all at the same time. The pain is incredible yet so is my arousal. I feel spontaneous little clenches deep in my cunt every time he pulls on a pin or rips one off. I feel my hot wetness on my thighs.
He takes a step back and touches my cheek. This is another picture in my mind. For an instant I thought he was going to slap my face. He didn’t. He has only ever slapped me a couple of times and I was confusingly and vaguely disappointed that his hand didn’t come back up to my face. Instead his hands began to slap away the pins attached to my breasts. As he slapped at them some flew off and some just adjusted causing new and much hotter streaks of pain to course through me. I heard the pins hitting together and I heard my own begging. It was perhaps the greatest pain he has ever caused me. I thought for the briefest of moments he was going to stop but he only paused to bend down and remove the clamps on my cunt rubbing my wet raw skin roughly. As he rubbed me my body responded to him with a strong orgasm. It was intense from the pain all around me and it was made even more intense because as my body trembled from release he pulled away more of the pins. The pleasure and the pain were one.
A moment later he was slapping away the remaining pins. I leaned into him for support as he pulled the last few away. I felt trickles of sweat run down my legs. I felt weak and dizzy as he held me close to him. I tried so hard to catch my breath but couldn’t settle myself. I heard him tell me to put my arms around him. I felt myself do it. Richard held me and pressed me as close to him as he possibly could. I heard him speak again and he told me he wanted me to lay down and then I felt myself on the bed.
Richards hands were all over me. Pressing and pulling on my breasts, pinching and squeezing my aching nipples. I was a moaning mass of open need beneath him. I felt his hand between my legs and his fingers worked back and forth. I came again pressing into his hand. I was soaked. His hand was dripping when he pulled it from me and wiped it over my breasts and neck. He wanted me to smell my cunt for the rest of the day.
And as hard as I try….even I can’t capture that in a picture.
Richard said to me that as my submission grows so does his dominance. He has told me that I am the perfect submissive for him. I feel the same way. I feel as if I am on a journey that is teaching me so much about myself. I have not felt this vast range of emotions in a long time. I have not felt this focused or this pulled together in quite a while. I am without a doubt benefiting from having Richard in my life. I hope he is as pleased with me as I am with him…excuse my shameless attempt to get praise from him. 🙂
I think his head must be amazingly full of ideas of things he can do to me. He is a demanding yet patient teacher and I am his eager student. Together it seems we have made our way to such a good place. I realize that one of the reasons we mesh so well is that we share a similar spirit. A simple way to put it is that I am game for whatever he throws at me. At least I thought I was…..every once in awhile he tosses something my way that takes a bit longer for me to wrap my submissive mind around. Like the time he placed a large roll of plastic wrap in front of me. What in the world could he possibly plan on doing with that? I have since learned. I will save that for another day.
Earlier this week he challenged me. I accepted a certain type of pain from him that I had trouble taking. Some background first. I love nipple pain. I can’t tolerate softness on my nipples, I can’t feel it and it only frustrates me. It has always been that way. I love the way he handles my breasts, the way he pulls ands twists my nipples until all I can do is follow his hand. This is a type of pain I love, this is the type of touch that makes me his. It weakens me. It taps into the strength it takes to not only endure it but to pull it back into myself deep enough to offer it back to him.
Yesterday we met for lunch. I found my usually hyper Dominant kind of mellow and relaxing on the couch waiting for me. I was 15 minutes late- he didn’t blink an eye. My first thought was that he had been smoking something while he waited for me but I knew better than that 😉 I freshened up in the bathroom for a moment and emerged nervous and excited. He was still lying on the couch his feet crossed at the ankles. I stood by his side for a second and he pulled me down and kissed me.
“Turn around and pull up your skirt.” He ran his hands over me and commented on the fading bruises. He told me to turn back around so he could see my cunt. I hate this. I feel as if I am being inspected….OK..OK I love it but don’t tell him.
He touched me and pulled a little on my already damp lips.
“Kneel down here…..I want your mouth on my cock.” As he spoke he was opening his pants. “First, take off your panties.” They were black and silky and I slid them down and tossed them away. I knelt by his side and took his cock in my mouth. His hand was stroking my bottom the entire time. I was becoming increasingly aroused and when I am in that state some of my nervousness fades.
“Take off your skirt.” OK…a subs dilemma…..does he mean take it off while I am sucking his cock or should I stop sucking, take it off and then continue sucking?
I somehow managed to get my skirt off and then resumed sucking his cock. He allowed me to do this a few more minutes before pulling my head away and standing up. He told me he wanted me against the cross. I took a few steps back until my back was pressed against the wood. I looked up at him curious what he had planned. From the table behind me he got the metal nipple clamps. They are evil little piranhas with metal jaws. He secured one on each nipple but didn’t use the sharp evil pinching side. I also noticed he didn’t restrain me to my new cross. I figured he wasn’t a hard pain yet. It pinched because he had them tight but they weren’t biting yet. He pulled on the small chain connecting the clamps and the pain intensified. He dropped the chain between my breasts and the weight pulled on my nipples. He attached a heavy clamp, you know the kind that connects something from both sides, to the chain. After adding one he soon added another. Immediately my nipples ached. They hurt. I had to fight asking him to take them off. Richard watched me for a second to see how I was dealing with the pain. He pushed my hair off of my face.
“Good.” He said. “Good Girl” Only I wasn’t being a good girl. I had my hands clenched behind me tight just so I didn’t take them off myself. I pressed my head back into the wood and tried to breath deep. I wanted to ignore the trickle of wetness that I felt between my legs. I was dripping. He connected a small metal wrench to one of the connectors and the pain once again intensified. I realized as I peeked down at my nipples that the more weight he added to the chain the tighter the clamps became and the deeper the small jaws bit into my skin. Surely this was enough. It had to be.
I was breathing heavy and I felt dampness down my back from trying to handle the pain. Yet it wasn’t enough. Richard wanted me to take more. He knew I could. He told me I could as he spoke softly to me. I turned my head away from him not wanting to look at him while he was hurting me. I heard his hand behind me again and I heard a scraping sound as if he was picking something up. He was holding a spreader bar. I pretty heavy one that he had used to keep my legs open for him earlier on in our relationship. He attached it to the other connector.
I can’t describe the amount of pain I was in. I felt my heart racing and my entire body felt as if it was ready to scream. I breathed deeply in and out and felt tears begging to spill over from my eyes. As a general rule I do not cry but for some reason today I almost did. I had to pull something very deep from inside myself to not make the pain be a bad thing. I felt something shift and I realized that I had somehow wrapped my head around the pain and that I was OK. After a few minutes this sort of pain dulls and it doesn’t work so hard on your emotions. At least for me anyway. It helps me too that he is right there, that Richard is very much aware of what it is I am enduring for him. I was suddenly quite shocked at how much I felt I was able to take. Sometimes pain is like that for me. It is hard and hot and then it changes into something that I can hold and manipulate.
In my ears I could hear Richard telling me to breath deep, he was telling me how good I was doing. I couldn’t believe the amount of weight he had attached to me. I was happy with myself that I was still in control. I allowed those feeling to predominate and within another minute I was lost in the wet needy feeling of wanting his hands on me…. of wanting more of the physical domination and less of the pain. They blend so nicely for me and feed into each other so well. My happiness with myself was short lived.
I wonder sometimes why Richard does the things that he does. I think the weights were enough…he had me so close to breaking. I had just pulled myself above the pain and I was at the point of hoping he was ready to take off the clamps. Instead he decided to cane my breasts. He used a thin whippy cane and flicked it in the air a few times before bringing it down across my breasts.
I think I screamed.
It was shocking and intense and it really hurt. He did it over and over…every time the cane came down the weights pulled and bounced biting me even harder. He concentrated on the soft skin right above my nipples and soon I felt raw. He flicked my nipples with the tip of the cane over and over until I felt quite tortured. I felt this amazing combination of good and bad. Every good feeling ever known was coursing through my body. Endorphins were my friend and I tingled all over. I was also lost in the thought that I was doing this for him. That with every stroke of the cane I both gave and took from him. I was also still there. I had not allowed myself to slip into a deep subspace. I am sure I was experiencing some extent of altered state but not enough to take me anywhere. I was actively feeling the pain…my body had just adjusted its threshold of what was tolerable. Finally he stopped. When I could barely breathe, when I could barely stand….he stopped. What is scary to me and maybe even to him too is that we didn’t find my limit that day. Maybe we found his…maybe he is the better judge of what my body can and can not take. I give that responsibility over to him gladly. I trust him with that decision. Please take that from me. I like knowing that even though I beg him to stop he won’t stop until he feels I have had enough just as I love knowing that even if I beg him to not stop he will stop if he feels my body has had enough. It was a hard scene but a gratifying one.
So, what do you do on your lunch hour?
Richard does not believe in punishment. I have explained before that he sees no reason why he should ever feel the need to punish me. I’ll just obey him without question, without hesitation. Right? Arrogant? Uh…yes. Can I even say that? 🙂But he is right. More now than ever I strive daily to obey him the very best I can. Pleasing him has become a primary goal of mine in the context of this relationship. I feel I am meeting most of his expectations. I am not perfect though. Wouldn’t that be boring?
I think I am doing a better job of meeting his expectations and really just becoming a better submissive overall now that Richard has made it clear that although punishment is not a huge part of this for him he will not hesitate in providing it if warranted. Punishment from Richard isn’t about the pain of whatever he does or the humiliation of whatever he decides is my punishment. He can hurt me and humiliate me for no other reason than his own pleasure. We both know that. It is more of the fact that I know it takes a lot to get him at that point. He is a patient man.
Yet something happened and I do not think it was just one thing. I think it was the combination of a few comments or my inability to focus on him totally that made him say something that shocked me. He told me that he was going to punish me. Enough said. We weren’t going to discuss it anymore. To me this was bad. Very bad. The one other time he felt the need to punish me he made me sit in a closet all alone for what seemed like forever. It was truly the longest three minutes of my life. 🙂 https://pixiepie.wordpress.com/2007/07/09/nopart-2/ Remember?
Knowing him the way I do I knew that he would follow through. It was Friday night and I was at the apartment waiting for him not at all thinking about his earlier comment. Just excited to see him and needing some time to unwind from what had been a pretty hard, emotional day. When he finally arrived I was just finishing up my shower. I am always a bit shy when I see him. It had only been a day or two since we had seen each other so I am not sure why the first half hour or so I am with him I revert back to being modest.
Did I tell you he built me a cross? He has it perfectly measured so it stretches me just right. It has hooks in all the perfect places. I love it. Right away it seemed he had me secured to the cross… my back to him. I love the way the restraints feel so tight on my wrists as the leather presses my body against the cool sweet smelling wood of the cross. The bottom part of the cross secures each of my feet in another set of cuffs forcing my legs to stay spread and opened for him. “I bet you are already wet, aren’t you? I haven’t even touched you yet.” Of course I was. “Yes Sir.” I replied to him even though I knew the question was rhetorical. He knew I was wet, he knew I was wet the moment he called from five minutes away telling me to be ready for him. I like how he runs his hands across my skin, down my back and across my bottom. He inspects my body for bruising and residual marks each time we see each other. He is able to reach around the wood of the cross and pull and twist on my nipples. It really is a clever design and it leaves me totally helpless. It is a comfortable position to be in. Leaning into the wood, both feet on the ground supporting me, it is a good place to be.He began to flog me. I knew this was not my punishment. He gave me the most amazing white doeskin flogger as a gift. It is lovely. And the smell is perfection. He ran it over my face and wrapped it around my neck before starting to flog me. I am entranced by it, everything about it pulls me into a wonderful, cooperative submissive head space. He started flogging me slowly, almost caressing my skin with the softness of the leather. Every once in awhile he would make it harder stopping every minute or so to stroke me with his hand or run his fingers through the wetness between my legs.
“You are so wet. Do you know your juice is running down your legs?” He always talks to me. Soft and low, down close to my ear. As the intensity of the flogging increased so did the bite of his words. He called me a slut, a cunt and made me do the same. ‘Tell me you are my cunt.” he would say. I can almost effortlessly repeat everything he tells me to now. He trips me up every once in awhile but not often anymore. It was hard saying I am an ass licking cunt. Something about that….wonderfully erotic but hard to say. 🙂 Still, even as his words got rougher and the flogging started thudding instead of caressing I knew I was not being punished.
I do not think he has ever flogged me as hard as he did Friday night. It was perfect. Typically once he is finished with me on the cross he takes me down right away. This night he didn’t.
He walked around to my side and turned my head to face him. He told me that it was time for my punishment. I was already breathing quite heavy from the flogging so the threat of punishment didn’t help. A million things went through my mind. I am a masochist so of course my first assumption would be a physical pain free punishment. No…not quite what he had planned. What Richard showed me is there are different types of pain…some tolerable, some enjoyable and others almost impossible to make it through. He unclasped one of my ankles from the cross and looped a rope in the metal buckle. Using the rope he pulled my ankle up as high as my knee and tied it tight so I was standing on one foot. He is a genius with knots and was able to adjust it just high enough to make me incredibly uncomfortable. Almost right away the pain in my other leg wrapped around my mind and blended with the scary pre-punishment feeling. I also realized right away how vulnerable this left my body to him. Having one leg pulled up also meant having one leg totally exposed.
Reaching into the drawer he pulled out a thin cane and began to tap it up and down my leg. The muscle of my leg was pulled tight and it made the quick tapping blows sting even more. Almost immediately the taps became hard swinging blows up and down the tender skin on the back of my thigh. One of the very worst places to be caned. I was trying to spin and pull away from the cane but it was no use. The cross is unforgiving and I had no place to go.
I am shocked at how intolerable the pain was when your mind’s focus is on balance and muscle pain. I am also shocked at how hard is was to have pain concentrated on such a small part of my body. He focused in on the back of my thigh. He punished that one area over and over until I was pleading with him to stop. Sometimes he placed a stroke in the same place twice. It was hard. It was punishment and I found no pleasure in this caning.
When it was finally over I felt..well for lack of a better word…. punished. I don’t like making him want to punish me. I want him to hurt me, I like feeling used but punished doesn’t work quite the same way in my head as it used to. I have come farther than that and have learned to really accept the pain and in the height of my pain allow it to be pleasure. When he hurts me I want him to know I want it, that I accept it. That he gives it to me because I am worthy of it and of him. Pain from punishment provides no happy feelings for me. The pain is a hundred times worse and a thousand times harder to take.
I have recently started dating again. I am working through the ‘dating’ and having a Dominant dynamics in my mind. I am casually dating a gentleman who has pursued me pretty consistently over the past few months. He’s nice enough, handsome and successful in his field. I haven’t quite figured out if he is Dominant or not. He has that Dominant quality that I find so appealing but I doubt he is going to be what I need. I need so much. 🙂 I am fairly certain that Jay will not be the one to provide what I need. I am curious how other people have dealt with dating and having a Dominant at the same time. Is it as difficult as I am finding it?
I have sort of floundered around on my first few dates with Jay. When I am with Richard I feel quite a sense of being ‘owned’. That I am only now learning is more than just a symptom of his Dominance over me. It is turning less of a physical demand and more of a state of mind. So I think it is only natural that I would feel some conflict when involved in a situation where another man wants to spend time with me.
Richard has encouraged me to date. So that isn’t the problem. I have been very open with him about who I date and when. It would have almost been easier for me if Richard had said..”You are mine and you aren’t dating.” And I say that not because it would have been the best thing for me but because it would have been a limit that I could have worked with because it was something solid in my head. Richard does want what is best for me and so I know he would never do that.
The conflict remained in my head and Richard remarked about it more than once. I found myself avoiding interactions with Jay that may have turned a bit more intimate because I wasn’t sure what was appropriate. It felt wrong to let him kiss me when I have given another man rights to my body.
I am the type of person who needs structure to thrive. I have said before that I need black or white and there is little room for anything gray or shady in my life.
I had a date last night with Jay. He invited me to his home for dinner. He grilled a delicous swordfish on the grill and we shared a really good bottle of wine. Delectable! The date was a success and Richard played a large part in making sure it went that way.
Knowing my need for rules. Knowing my need for structure. Richard emailed me this an hour before I left to go to Jay’s house……as I read it I was quickly reminded of how serious and real the realtionship is between Richard and I. I am not sure when it turned this serious but as I read his rules I was overcome by how grateful I felt towards him for providing them to me.
~~~
In case there is any ambiguity, and knowing you like clarity, here is how I feel about Jay:
1. I am not going to tell you how to feel about him or what to do about him. You can continue to see him or not, as you prefer. I happen to think he is good for you, but I also think it is probably appropriate to be honest with him about how you feel or don’t feel. I am not telling you you have to see him, or tell him anything, or what to tell him. This “feel” part of the equation is yours to decide and to handle, and so is the “tell” part.
2. I AM going to tell you it is ok to kiss him.
3. I AM going to tell you that you are NOT to have sex with him, or let him touch your breasts or your ass or your cunt. These are mine. If he tries to, you are to tell him he cannot. You can tell him anything you want to explain that.
4. I DO want to know when you are going to see him and what you are going to be doing. The one exception is if he just drops in to take you to lunch. Then let me know afterwards. If he just drops in under other circumstances (e.g. at your house some evening), please let me know by TM. This is not a pre-approval thing. I am NOT going to tell you when or where or if you are going to go out with him – it is informational. I
want to know about it, not approve or disapprove it.
5. I will be happy to give you advice and suggestions if you ask for them, but I will be trying hard not to seem like I am giving you the answer. If I sound like I’m telling you to see him, or not see him, I am only trying to give you my best advice – THESE are the rules, not what I tell you when you ask for advice.
6. I reserve the right to change any of these if I feel it is appropriate.
Yes, I am feeling quite Dominant today and am feeling quite strong about my ownership of you. Your relationship with Jay is a part of you that I am not exercising my ownership rights over – I am letting you have control of it. Actually, I am telling you that you have to be responsible for it.
Except, of course, as set out above. Do let me know if you have any questions about this.
your loving Dom
R
~~
This is exactly what I needed from Richard. I need to feel some element of Richard’s control in this portion of my life. Maybe because it is so new. Maybe because I am unsure how to navigate all this on my own…I am not sure.
I am incredibly grateful that he realized what I needed and that he was willing to provide it before I even realized I needed it.
I have never made a blatant request for comments before today’s post. Yet today it seems unavoidable. It is my desire to hear from sub and Dom alike…please weigh in on this post.
There is a place I go to that is very much inside me. It is a curious place full warm touches and soft muted shadows. It’s a safe place and when it beckons it is hard to not go. As I sit here and try to find the right words to explain where it is I go and how I get there I think of walking down a dimly lit street…..maybe in some foreign little town….maybe on the sandy paths of some far away island. Some place unfamiliar until I am there and then I just know that this is a place I have visited before. When I am on that path maybe I hear a soft melody, a tinkering of sound in the distance and I follow it. I follow it not knowing where it is coming from only knowing that once there it is good.
Sound…it exists there but only muffled and quiet not unlike a whisper that you must quiet even your breathing to hear. Touch….I feel it quite differently when I am there. It tugs and pulls at me like I know it is there but only comes to me in quick bursts like lights hiding in fire. I feel the sensation of touch but it is like a small teardrop of pain. I can brush it away and it feels smooth down my cheek. It turns to pure pleasure…it warms me and makes me want to stay in my haven.
I have heard it called many different things from drifting off…to blacking out …I, like many of my blogger friends call it sub space. My experiences with this magical safe and very warm place have been intense over the past several weeks. There is not a clear criteria for what puts me there. Fear has put me there. Pain has put me there. Once I am there it is hard to come back.
Yesterday Richard used something on me that I found difficult to take. Being the Bob Villa of D/s he made a whip of sorts out of a thick stubby piece of wood and from it he attached a tangle of black coiled cording. When I asked him what it was he said it was the coil that secures screen inside of the frame. He went on to explain it comes in different thicknesses and weights. This one was heavy and vicious. He and I have evolved over the past two weeks into something quite different that we expected or maybe even wanted. I feel like his Dominance over me is close to total and my submission to him grows more every day. As much as he has learned about my body and the way my submissive mind works the fact I go away to sub space still fascinates him. It was no surprise that soon after the full impact of the pain of the whip was felt by my body I left him to go to my safe place. He will tell you that when I am there he gets no response from me when he hurts me. It is like I am truly gone. We explore this in conversation and I asked him a question that he was not able to clearly answer.
Richard is a sadist. In every sense of the word he is a sadist. So I would think that he wants me to feel the pain he inflicts. Especially when it is at it’s most severe. I would expect the fact that I have a way to avoid feeling the pain to annoy him or make him want to keep me from drifting away. Yet last night he let me go. And when I returned it was to him. And he was warm and safe and loving as he held me and gently brought me back around. When I ‘wake up’ I am often curled into him like a sleeping child. I find that I am clinging to him and he is all that I need to reassure me that I am alright.
I thought perhaps he tolerated my sub space because it meant I could take more. Yet I am not quite sure that is what it is. I know it fascinates him. Maybe the fact he can put me on a different level of conciousness feeds his need to Dominate me as much as his need to hurt me. I am not sure.
I would love to hear about other people’s sub space experiences. I need to know that I am not alone when I drift off to sub space. Doms….how do you feel about sub space? Subs….what’s it like for you when you get there?
pixie pie 
