Friday night was amazing. In my mind it has somehow chopped itself up into small distinguishable parts that ultimately come back together. We were relaxed with each other..I was positively giddy just being with him. I knew he had plans for me, plans that could quite possibly give me some of the hard pain that I so desired from him…the type of pain that he had been hesitant to deliver because of my experience with Liam. The feeling was in the air that I had been nurtured enough…
So much happened. I love the way he and I flow together. We play off of each others moods and needs and we realize they can change in any given moment. The evening started out innocently enough. I asked permission to freshen up in the bathroom of the apartment. He of course granted my request and gave one of his own. He asked me to not undress just yet. I had come directly from my office and still wore a small skirt and button down top and sweater…not quite school girlish but close. Close enough to put thoughts in my Owner’s head. 🙂
I emerged from the bathroom and he was standing there at the door. He grabbed my arm and pressed me against the kitchen wall. He kissed me…he asked me how school was going…if I had left my backpack at school? Uh-oh…I knew where this was going and right away felt my cunt clench involuntarily.
“How is daddy’s little girl?” he asked me standing closer to me, making me feel smaller than I even am. ”
All this led to one of the hottest daddy/little girl moments between us…it was perfect. I just don’t feel like writing about it right now….but it led us to what is on my mind right now.
Afterwards we were laying together..breathing together and just feeling lost in the moment. Above me some ropes had slipped sown from the high backboard of our bed. I knew he had them secured tight…tight enough to hold me. I was on my back and he was by my side with his arms wrapped tightly around me. I wiggled away and reached playfully for the rope. We just talked softly to each other for a few minutes and as we did I played with the ropes…eventually winding them into the metal clasps of my wrists restraints. Richard laughed at me and fixed the knot so he could tighten the rope and lift my arms straight over my head. He straddled me and looked down into my face. I felt his hands brush my skin and pull through my hair…his fingers resting on my nipples before pulling them hard. Playtime was over. He has large hands and my breasts hide beneath them….he is rough as he pulls and presses into my body..his fingers leaving dark and red smudges against my white skin. I am moaning aloud at the pain and the pleasure of it. I like when he handles me this way..love that the laughter is gone from his face and the intense…concentrating look is there..the one that whispers he is going to hurt me…that I should be ready because I am His and that he can do anything to me..anything at all to my body. It is that face that tells me I am his slut, his cunt and that he will make use of me in anyway he desires. I am his..his words and his look tell me that.
His hands were hurting me..I felt the pulses of his fingertips with the pounding of my own blood in my ears. I get so eager right before I know he is going to hurt me..my body jumps at it sensing that something deep within me needs this, needs him to somehow feel centered and complete.
I loved the pull of my own weight on my wrists and I loved feeling it in my back and my shoulders. He had tightened the rope so my head wasn’t fully making contact with the bed beneath me. As hard as that was I liked it because it tilted my head back..allowing him access to my throat and my neck. I knew the knife was still somewhere near the bed and he wouldn’t hesitate to hold it at my throat, to drag it between my breasts creating a tiny bloody path to my cunt…as I leaned towards sub space I half hoped he wouldn’t….yet half longed to feel the cold metal against the delicate softness of my neck.
The warm feelings of being totally vulnerable and at his mercy were thick around me..I can get quite lost in feeling that helpless. The knife never reappeared. He left me for a moment and opened the cabinet close to the bed. He straddled me again and showed me what he was holding.
“I love this cane.” he said in a matter of fact voice. The one that tells me he is detaching parts of himself from me..almost like he needs to pull away slightly from the love we share and focus on giving me the pain that he needs me to take in order to satisfy that drive inside himself. Only I know that he does not..that our deep emotional connection is what makes this possible. Love is not a hindrance to his sadistic brutality rather for me and with me it is a catalyst, it is what feeds the exchange. Now that I recognize it for what it is…I crave that from him. I know that beneath everything he does to me he does it never forgetting that he loves me, that he is responsible for me, that into his hands the safekeeping of another person has been delivered. That makes me feel taken…completely taken and engulfed by his need as my own need to feel pain, to feel vulnerability and helplessness is met. He has never let me down..it is amazing that we meet each others needs so perfectly.
As I write this I think back to a comment that was made by a reader about being a true submissive..I think it said something about a person not being a true submissive if they wanted their own needs met. It is so clear to me…being submissive is my need. So aren’t I in fact meeting my needs just be giving myself to Richard? (Duh…) And by that definition there would be a lot of lost submissives…it is a circular. I wouldn’t be there if I didn’t grow from it, if I didn’t crave it and need it and desire it and him so.
The cane started tapping on my right breast. He still held my nipple…pulling it away from my body stretching the already tight skin out so it was almost taunt. He talked to me..he said so many things…sometimes I feel the need to not leave his words out here for all to read. Sometimes I type them and selfishly delete them only to wrap them all back around me and keep them all to myself. Words are like magic when he covers me with them…almost like small secret thoughts that only I can see…that only I can understand. I love being that safe place for him…it reminds me of his own vulnerabilities and makes me love him even more.
The cane was relentless. Richard brought it down across my breasts over and over. His other hand had left my nipple to play in my cunt…as asked him if I could please touch myself. He allowed me to…and I surged forward in my desire when his hand was free to come back to my breasts. In all the time I have known Richard…this was the most severe caning he had ever given me on my breasts. My body was there the entire time…my mind was aware of the pain but somehow it was filtered. The noise of the cane was somehow louder than it’s bite. The ache, the sting, the tearing hot feeling of wood against soft skin was ever present yet somehow my mind made it into pleasure. I felt nothing but alive…tingling with sparks of light and desire and hot need as the cane brutally snapped against my skin. I heard his voice..I heard him exclaiming that he couldn’t believe that I was taking it for him…and then it came down harder and faster and still I didn’t resit. I knew somewhere in my head that I should be in agony..that the swing of the cane should be making me scream and twist and pull away…yet it did not. At one point he dropped the cane and I begged him for more…I didn’t want him to stop. The energy of him getting what he needed was all around me..we were feeding from each other. Like sustenance. I could have taken anything from him at that point..given him anything..allowed him to do anything he wanted.
When he stopped again this time he ignored my plea for more…he said he risked taking me past what was good for me. I remember whimpering into his shoulder as he untied me…and I remembered him gathering me close to him and his grip on me damp body was so tight. We give each other this. This wonderful ‘thing’ that is impossible to write about as it can’t be fully captured using words. I haven’t the ability to get it just write…to put you there like I wish I could. It is visceral and elusive…and I can only hope that those of you have felt it understand it and those of you who don’t can try and see how it all falls together. What makes it flow and dance as if the best and the darkest in each of us has somehow found it’s match.
I know he held me for a long, long time. He always does when he knows I need it…he has too. That is why he and I will never again attempt a quick afternoon meeting involving pain…it takes more from me than it leaves me with. It damages me and being the Dominant that he is…he will never damage me.
I want to write more about this night…and I will. I have been out of town this weekend and am finally home. Home and exhausted. I think I am meeting my Owner for lunch tomorrow….it is past my bedtime and I feel it. Goodnight for now…