S/M

breathless

I am breathless. I am full of wonder and happiness today. I am Owned. I am flying through the feelings that once clouded my view. Yes I realize this is a snapshot. Yes I realize tomorrow I can stumble but today…..today I am breathless. It is a Happy Valentines Day. There are so few words to describe what is in my heart. I am pleasing to my Owner right now. He is pleased with me. I made him happy last night. I am learning to take the unpleasant feelings associated with this non traditional relationship I am finding myself in and making them something that can grow my submission. I submit. Why do I think it is my right to choose that I submit to?

A pattern is forming. Growing and from that pattern the hard walls of confusion and ambiguity fall away. I was with Richard last night. I was able to serve him, to meet my Owner’s needs to bring him peace that I know only I can. I am pleasing him. It was wonderful. Amazing. There is a story to tell…an accounting of the details of last night. It is forming in my mind. There is so much. This post is a slight sliver of the evening…a sweet piece that I will taste

I wasn’t sure what he would expect of me. He tried to be careful with timing. He knew that he would see me last night and then not see me again until possibly Friday…maybe even Tuesday as I am going out of town.  Because of that I wasn’t sure how much pain he would give me.

 I gave him his Valentine’s Day present. A book of poetry that I found and knew right away must be a gift for Richard.  Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair by Pablo Neruda. If you read it you will want it….it is lovely. He loved it and his soft voice filled the room as he asked me to kneel at his feet. He read to me and I felt the tears on my face. The words…the poetry…his voice seared my soul and pulled me inside him somehow just as he is settled inside me. 

“I have gone marking the atlas of your body with crosses of fire.

My mouth went across: a spider, trying to hide.

In you, behind you, timid, driven by thirst.” 

It set the tone, the mood for the night. He laid the book aside and pulled me up so I was kneeling slave-like between his legs, my eyes on him waiting for his command, for him to guide me, to show me what he needed. I wanted to do what he asked, anything he asked and I knew that he could. He spoke to me in soft colorful tones that sealed my knees to the floor as if I was planted to warm wax. It was languid and his hands roamed my body. He told me to stand and undress for him. He stopped me when I was down to my panties.  I stood naked at his side as he watched me as his eyes warmed my skin…I watched his eyes for a smile, for that look he gets when his desire is growing. He pulled me down so I was kneeling before him once again.

“Crawl over and turn the heat up for us.” As I crawled away he patted my bottom. I eagerly crawled back to him and knelt there. It was my spot, a favorite spot of mine. He said words to me that I selfishly will keep to myself…words that must stay entwined among the branches that make up the minutes of our intimacy.

“I am torn when I touch you.” He said into my breast as he kissed me softly there on the soft roundness of my breast. He held my other breast in his hand a rough thumb combing across my nipple.  

“I am torn between the desire to touch you gently and the need to hurt you.” He told me I was his toy, his doll and that he would play with me any way he desired. His lips clung to my nipples and drew them into his mouth softly at first and then harder but there was no pain. He pulled away and bit me hard beneath my nipple a reinforcement of his struggle. I had never loved him more.  His fingers danced across my back. His breath moistened my skin and his Ownership was thorough and larger than what I am as a whole. I was his. Loved, Owned. He thanked me for my gift. It was perfect he said. I asked if I could open my gift. The slender white box that had sat upon my dresser since Monday, the second part of my Valentine gift- the one that I wasn’t allowed to open yet. I asked him if I could open it right then. He laughed when I told him I had it with me….just in case I said. He said that yes I could open it and I crawled over to my bag to get it before nestling back in that safe place at his feet. I tore away the pale ribbon and opened the shiny white box. It was lovely. A delicate chain…beautiful in its simplicity…meaningful in its form and it was just what I had wanted. I would wear it always he told me. A sign, a remembrance of his Ownership of me, a simple piece that would be a reminder.  A touchstone for when I felt sad, lonely or deserted. It would be a connection to him. It glittered like platinum in my hand as I admired it. Not even an ounce and  it felt so heavy around my neck.

It was just what I wanted, what I needed. What I knew would carry me through a sad night or a spiraling sub drop when I am far from my Owner’s hand.  I wore it for him. I wear it for him now. I will wear it for always. Like I am to him, it will be a part of me now. Just as my submission it a part of me so will this symbol of all that I am to him. It is a full circle of delicate strength that grounds me. I will wear it for always. 

He pulled me across his knee. I felt his elbow in my back and his words telling me what he was going to do. He told me he loved me, that he loved me across his knee. That he loved touching me like this. I knew he was going to spank me. I didn’t care how hard…..or with what. I just wanted to feel his mark on me, his touch, his ownership. Completing that full delicate circle of strength and trust…of submission …of dominance where we both stand and walk together….me following slightly behind.  

Happy Valentines Day. J   

3 thoughts on “breathless

  1. pixie,
    I keep reading this over and over and every time it just makes me feel so good and warm inside, like I have just sipped a hot chocolate with you and it is running down into my very being warming me, and I am snuggling in with you.
    This is one snapshot that I hope we can carry with us for a long time.

    “In my sky at twilight you are like a cloud
    and your form and color are the way I love them.
    You are mine, mine, woman with sweet lips
    and in your life my infinite dreams live.”

    your gift is divine, btw. Hidden in the tragedy are lines of joy as well.
    R

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