S/M

my quiet

I have neglected my blog for the past week. Yet I have returned and with a vengeance…lol. I need to focus all of the fluttering words in my mind and get them down in print before they disappear. I am feeling too much, thinking too much and I need to pull it away slam it down on my keyboard and get something posted. I beg for your patience. There is so much to write about. So much to explore here, admit to and divulge. Is this truly a safe place for me to whisper my secrets…to admit my flaws and disappointments?

 

I admit to being a prideful person. I have less now.

 

I have returned from my vacation with Richard and L. My eyes are wider and my heart feels a little smaller. I feel hardened yet more malleable….toughened yet raw all over.

I feel better now than I did. I feel worse in some ways then what I did. Yes, I am confusing myself.

Geez, where do I start? Someone used to tell me pretty often that I kept my head in the clouds, that I was a dreamer…that I was too sensitive…too ‘a lot of things’ and ‘not enough, never enough’ of a lot of things too. Of course there was a lot said to me then that I am working hard to let go of. Funny how the red days of your childhood pop up and wrap themselves around the bluer days of being all grown up; it is like bruising that can’t heal. It yellows and fades away sometimes a little at a time but the slightest bump can bring you to your knees and erupt the bleeding all over again.

 

All of this comes in to play. I realized this week that the world really is what we make it. That people can choose to be happy or miserable. I always thought it was poignant several years ago when our nation was hanging on Dr.Phil’s every word…when he would ask, “Do you want to be right or do you want to be happy?” It seems like an easy answer. I understand it isn’t so easy for everyone; especially when the payoff for being miserable gives you more than the payoff for being happy. It saddens me really. I grew up in an environment where people emotionally manipulated me. I was sensitive and had a streak in me of wanting to please people…to feel loved and accepted. From very early on I was made to feel guilty about love and feeling and giving affection. I was afraid of my mother. I want to try to explain this so it makes sense. I always looked to my dad for protection from her yet in many ways when he was around it was much worse. He was affectionate with me and paid me a lot of attention. I remember loving that time with him but knowing that later she would be angry with him for paying attention to me, for holding me or playing with me. She would be mean to him and say horrible things and I wouldn’t look at her because her eyes would be clouded with resentment and meanness and I would feel guilty. I would feel guilty that she was mean to him because of me. Surely I was doing something wrong, surely I was a bad girl for being such a problem for not being worthy of having my mother love me and allow me to love others.  I came to associate guilt with love and love with guilt and wrapped it all up and swallowed it, internalizing my pain so when the anger came from my mother in some ways I felt as if I deserved it. A child never deserves cruelty or anger or pain. I internalized all of that too…surely I was doing something wrong.

 

Some of those almost forgotten feeling surfaced for me this weekend as I interacted with L and Richard. I realized that L has a side of her personality that is biting and sharp and cruel. It is often said you hurt the ones you love the most and I have no doubt she loves her husband. Yet when she speaks to him she is sarcastic and biting and it hurts me so badly to see such disrespect. Not all of the time…she can be loving and kind. When she is happy she can make the entire room happy yet when she is not happy or not the center of attention she can morph quite suddenly into someone pretty scary and confusing to be around. She can pound and pound a point in and not let go into you literally have to shut down or give in…or get angry and flip out to get her to stop. I feel great sympathy for Richard. Then she can be the victim because you are angry at her….you lost your temper. I want to resist the need I have to follow everything negative I say about L with something positive. I just don’t want anyone to have bad feelings about his wife. She is a lovely woman who I feel is worldly and sophisticated yet emotionally she is incredibly immature and childlike. There were times this weekend where I cried for him as I stood in awe of his patience as he dealt with her. I never heard her compliment him or say anything nice….it was all negative. He is such a bright light on this planet. He just glows and I can’t help but to love him….to look at him and spout meanness and disapproval is unfathomable.

 

So I learned a lot this weekend as I usually do when I am with Richard. I had a window seat clear day view of what his life is often like with L. The good and the bad.

 

It would be easy to start with the good and let it trickle down into the bad of the weekend only that is not how it played out. We described our weekend at one point as a Merry Go Round. Just spinning and spinning and we weren’t always in control of it. There was a lot of drama, a lot of laughs and as many tears. I felt for the first time my Owner counting on me to give strength to a situation and realizing I could only do my best. I allowed my heart to break this weekend, Richard slid more than once off of his pedestal and my own tender heart still reels from the realization and the consequences that he is in fact fallible. I let him down too and L….well, without any disrespect to her she had a bipolar weekend. Our Merry Go Round became a sandy sort of resort like prison for the long weekend and we trudged along trying to make the best of it.

 

I think this is a start. I needed to put something here….get some of this off my chest….make it less dark in my mind. Right now…tonight sitting here I need quiet around me. I need quiet in my heart and quiet in mind. I faced so much this weekend, faced so much that I had pretended wasn’t there. Somewhere over the past few months I convinced myself I was ok with my place in Richard and Ls life…in some ways I still am. This weekend showed me I am not close to having this all lined up in my head.

 

Things are changing here. Quickly. I feel as if I am being pressed against the wall…noise and hardness tumbling into me to the point of making me want to lay flat and let it all flood over me. I have never felt this way. I have lost feelings. I have lost some of the sparkles in my submission….it is less fun to me. Less real and meaningful and that scares me. It makes me want to reach out and cling to Richard and beg him to hold me above the water but I know he can’t, that he won’t. He showed me that. I feel right now as if I am testing bits and pieces of him to see if he will give me a little more…let me keep a little more of what it is he has made me need and crave. I don’t think he will pass this test….if only because I am not a good test giver.

 

I love him. Too much. Too much to let this keep rolling along this way. I am saddened and confused….and stumbling along here in the darkness alone. I envy L on nights like this…she has R to talk to and find comfort in tonight and he has her. I have my thoughts and choices and what is left of my pride. I also have some bitter memories to tuck away. I wish right now for a safe clean place to whisper them into the darkness…into the only pair of ears to ever hear them. And isn’t that the problem- I don’t have that.

I do have Richard’s text message from this morning…

“Oh..you do not run away. You will answer me to the last cry. Cling to me as though you were frightened…..”

And I want to write back….I am clinging to you Richard but I am slipping and you can’t catch me this time. You said as much. And where will that leave me? Where will I fall?

S/M

“Do It”

The setting: the apartment.

The Players: pixie pie and Richard

The Scene: pixie is naked except for a bra and cami, pulled roughly down around her midriff.

Richard,… well he is naked except for his socks, like some 50’s porn movie.

From their attire, one might conclude that the dis-robing was done hurriedly.

Richard: Is it me, or is it you, or maybe it is us?

I start to touch you, I am full of tenderness, and somehow, somewhere along the way, the touch turns to cruelty. Is it what is inside me, or is it you drawing it out of me, or is it just the chemistry between us? I feel tender, and as my hand runs across your body, I find Scary Richard lurking and my touch turns to a grab, a pinch, a twist of flesh, mauling you and hurting you. It comes on me slowly sometimes, and other times it is like a switch is thrown – instantly the cruel hand is on you.

pixie: I don’t know; I think it is both of us.

Richard is laying on top of pixie. It is clear she needs something, but she doesn’t know what it is. Richard knows it is that cruelty, that pain, – that is what is missing.

Richard reaches across the bed and pulls up a pair of wire cutters and lays them on pixie’s chest. pixie gasps… a huge intake of air… and immediately turns her head to the side.

Richard: That scares you, doesn’t it? Don’t go away now, stay here with me.

Richard opens the jaws of the wire cutters as far as they will go. He slips the open cutters onto pixie’s erect nipple, the blades gently squeezing it.

Richard: Don’t turn your head away, I want you to look at it. Look at it!

pixie reluctantly looks down at her nipple, caught between the blades. Immediately she looks away again.

Richard: I said look at it. It could cut your nipple right off, couldn’t it?

pixie looks. She is breathing rapidly, almost hyperventilating. Her look is one of fear. Scary Richard is just below the surface. Richard takes the cutters off her nipple. He pinches up some skin on her breast and gently closes the cutters on the skin, pinching it with the blades. Her breathing quickens again. Richard drags the cutters around her body. He moves down to her cunt, taking her lips between the blades, applying enough pressure that she knows what he is doing. Her almost panicked breathing has not subsided. Richard puts the blade aside for a minute and resumes fucking her, making her moan, watching the look on her face. The combination of lust and fear and desire. It is a wonder, this thing that happens between us. It brings Scary Richard closer to the surface.

Again, the cutters come back into the picture. pixie’s expression doesn’t change as much this time. There is still fear, but it is controlled fear. And with it is that look of being owned, of knowing that whatever Richard chooses to do with those wire cutters is what will happen, a look almost of acceptance and even more – want, desire, need.

An amazing look.

Scary Richard moans with his own need, his need to hurt and take her, his need to merge into her all while being as cruel as only he can be. The tension is in the air –so thick it is hard to breath. Again the cutters are dragged across her body, stopping at tender spots. Richard pushes deeply into pixie, he puts the wire cutters over pixies earlobe, he gently squeezes them so that they are tight against her earlobe. Scary Richard is there, he breathes into her ear, all the time thrusting into her.

pixie: Do it.

Two little words, and at that moment both of them knew what being owned meant; what all the ramifications were, how deeply it went into the very darkest corners of their relationship. Richard recognized that those two words were perhaps more than “I love you” could ever say. Those two words cut into his brain like nothing else could have.

“Do it,” she said. “Do it.”

S/M

snapshot

I wonder if my owner knows how much I sometimes need to rely on the strength of my own submission to make this right in my mind.  I am thankful he has given me the tools to help me get through when I feel the strain of being separated from him. Yesterday (Friday) we were able to spend some time together. Because I wasn’t feeling well…and all the other things going on that make us both super busy we were unable to spend our night together this week. Though we were able to see each other twice…it was just during the day. It makes it different somehow. Not a lot of time to shake of the intensity of what he does before real life creeps in.

 

We have avoided seeing each other on Friday in the past because my contact with him is still so limited over the weekend. We run the risk of me needing him on a Saturday or Sunday and him not being available to me. Sometimes it is hard to separate. This separation anxiety has been a continued source of stress for me and I am not sure how I can make it better. It causes me to act out a little with him- the resentment I think and that leaves me wondering why I feel as if I can feel resentful sometimes. No one is forcing me to be here and share this experience with him.

 

Our time together is often so intense and then he is just gone…poof! And I am really left to deal with all of those emotions on my own. I wonder how can go from being a sadist with me to going home; making dinner and being totally vanilla. Yes, it is wonderful and I am so lucky to have Richard (and L) in my life but the cost is pretty high. Sometimes I can push that to the side…sometimes it is not so easy to do that. It’s how I feel later, much later when I reflect on the whole thing. That is when I weight the cost to the benefits….that is when I realize this situation is certainly not ideal for me. The ultimate goal for me would be having what I have with Richard but in a relationship where that person is free to love me all he wants…where he comes home to me every night….and I get to share all of what I know R and L share when I am put away. I feel as if beside me on the shelf is a hourglass only it is covered up and no one (even us) can see how much sand remains or how quickly it trickles through.

 

I feel as if the stronger I become in my relationship with Richard the more I realize I need and deserve more. Though the irony of it is the stronger my relationship and bond is with him the harder it is to pull away. And no- I am not thinking of pulling away right now. But I do know now it will most likely be me that one day draws the curtain on this relationship and that frightens me. For so many reasons that frightens me.

 

Remember one of the restrictions placed on our relationship involves the weekends remaining off limits. Though often L and Richard have asked to see me over the weekend and I have either been out of town or already busy with family commitments to see them. So I find that I enter into every weekend hoping they will want to see me and wondering if I should in fact make plans at all. Then I remember my ability to make plans for myself is limited…I can’t date right now or even email someone without the permission of my owner. You will remember he denied my last request to spend time with Liam. And for the record I am not complaining I just sort of feel under utilized, ok a lot under utilized. It is as if my submission to him affects me 24/7…the influence of him and the mind set of being owned IS a 24/7 feeling yet he doesn’t need 24/7.  And he can’t give me anything close to that. I am left feeling neglected sometimes because my submission to him is so deep and so real….but what do I do with it?

 

I miss him and having that feeling of abandonment is hard for me. I feel a little lost sometimes, that’s all. I am shocked at how I feel when he does call me over the weekend. When he calls and tells me he is thinking of me or when he calls just to tell me he loves me…I am always shocked that I am on his mind. He has this ability to separate and I figure once I am out of sight I am out of mind. But I KNOW that isn’t true…I hear it in his voice and I feel it when he touches me. I hate that I am weak sometimes and lose track of my faith and trust in him.

 

I miss both of them when I feel as if I am forgotten. And I know I am not really forgotten but it hurts my feelings that L wants to forget me…oh I don’t know maybe she is past that. I am confused. So all of that is good….the weekends still trip me up.

 

I wonder how Richard would feel if L was still out of the country and my weekends were off limits to him. And he faced days without contact with me…though that doesn’t make a while lot of sense because he can in fact demand contact from me.

 

 I usually know their plans going into the weekend. If I didn’t know what they were doing I would feel left out….yet knowing their plans kinda sorta makes me feel left out too. And it isn’t as if I feel I need to be or even want to be included in everything they do, I recognize the need for them to carve out time dedicated to just the two of them. But then on the other hand….every other minute during the week outside my one evening (usually about four hours) and my one lunch ‘hour’ with him he is all hers….so I suppose it is just another reminder of who I am to him. Good and bad.

 

Sometimes I feel as if I am missing out on some grand adventure that everyone else is having. Yet I know…that almost all of me is not ready to get involved with anyone seriously. I told Richard today that I think I might want to consider dating again though. I almost called Liam tonight…I know he and I had something special and the longer I go without seeing him the easier it is for me to forget why I stopped seeing him. The idea of being romanced or being asked out and dressing up for a date…..sharing a bottle of wine and then maybe a goodnight kiss at the end of the night is appealing. Am I wrong to need that…to think of that….to want that? I don’t think I am. The other alternative is this….and I face daily the reality that even when I fool myself that it is enough for me I know it is not. Sadly, my very nature draws me towards needing to fully commit and love and be need one person who can reflect all of that back onto me.

 

 Not that I need a man in my life…but maybe I am the type of girl who really does. I don’t like not having something to do on the weekend or someone special to spend my time with. I am somewhat needy, I require lots of attention and truthfully the built in limitations of my relationship with Richard makes me crave more especially when I see he and L together and it is a stark reminder of what I do not have. I don’t like the part of my submission that places me high on the toy shelf every evening and weekend to secure L’s place in his heart and life. For as much as I understand that it still bothers me. I still get lonely…I still miss him and allow myself to wonder if he needs me or is thinking of me at all.

 

Then I think of our time together and I know he does….but then I question if I mean so much to him why does he allow so much time and space to settle between our times together. Does he not know how I struggle at times?

 

Would the world truly end if he picked up the phone on a Saturday afternoon to talk to me? What makes it worse is I know he wants to…what makes it worse is he cautioned us both (me and L) to focus on what we were getting from him…not on what the other one was getting. He said to look and make sure our needs were being met and if we feel sad make sure it isn’t jealously regarding what the other one is getting…when what the other one in getting takes nothing away from what you get for yourself. I think I am the only one doing that….I am the only one with no control or no say regarding when or where or how often I see him. And it is a known fact that my needs aren’t being met….even for all the good this brings into my life. It is limited and I am frustrated.

 

Then I feel so ungrateful. I think of the time I DO have with him and the way he makes me feel when we are together. And the time I spend with L too and how she has made room in her life for her husbands submissive and I feel even more ungrateful. The two of them alone and combined give me something I have never had in so many ways. It is like nothing else….even with all the limitations. And I realize it will always be this way….that I have made a choice. But it makes me sad sometimes. What I have with him is worth the pain of all I do not have…of what I will never have. Isn’t it? Would it feel less empty if I had someone else in my life to care for me?

 

I want to find the tools to take my submission….and hold on to the feelings of being needed and owned and cherished by him even when I am put away. I do not know if I am strong enough to do that.

 

I keep going back to the urge I have to have someone else in my life. I want to eventually fall in love with someone….and have what L has with Richard with someone of my own. I spent enough time with Jackson to know that type of relationship has its benefits. Companionship…someone to laugh with and someone to make you feel special…for more than five hours a week could only be good for me. Then I run the risk of finding Mr. Right or even Mr. Almost Right who doesn’t want me with Richard…or who can’t understand. I lost Liam because of that. In a lot of ways I lost J because of that too.

 

So this snapshot isn’t about me being unhappy with what I have. I am. I am thrilled and amazed at what this has turned into. It just has built in limitations. Limitations that are sometimes easier to handle than other times.

 

It is circular like so much lately. I feel as though I am wandering around the perimeter of my life as if it is a fast spinning carnival ride. Only there is no one there to tell me when to step off.

 

 

Richard

dinner with L and questions in my own mind

L and I had dinner together last night. We met in the restaurant of the wonderful hotel where we all spent time together a couple months ago. Our meeting was casual but it was planned. L had some pretty specific questions for me. As you know we have a vacation planned and it is coming up in less than two weeks. 

 

She was already there when I arrived and sat waiting quietly. She never seems to take up too much space. I don’t know what I mean by that except she seems sort of quiet and unassuming until you spend any amount of time with her. Then you soon see she is a woman of great depth and interest. I like her, I like people like her. She has a way of being direct to the point of making people a little uncomfortable and her logic is sometimes one sided but I think that is all part of her charm. I found myself studying her a little more than usual…I was looking at her shoulders (she had a really nice sleeveless black dress on and the cutest shoes that had five or six colors in them that really set off the scarf she wore) and her face; sort of studying this woman that my Richard has been with for so long. I imagine she has done the same to me. I realize I was trying to imagine the two of them together. Richard kissing her or touching her…stuff like that. I am not sure why except things like that ground me and oddly enough for today anyway make me feel more bonded to both of them.

 

Our conversation was light at first. We exchanged gifts like we often do when we meet. We ordered dinner together and kind of laughed because we had decided on the same thing. It was just incredibly nice. We were outside on the patio overlooking some pretty landscaping and a trickling country creek sipping champagne. I imagine that everyone sitting close to us believed we were mother and daughter.

 

The questions began.

 

Her concern is regarding my submission. She is trying her best to figure all this out. She asked me if she had ever been with me when I was not in a submissive state. My mind tumbled her question around and then I realized what she was saying. She has come along way but bless her heart she still has so much to learn. I realized she didn’t fully understand that my submission is a part of me. Like what makes me giggle or what I like to eat or wear….it is part of what makes up who I am. It’s as much a part of me as my blue eyes are. I told her that my submission is always there. She mentioned when she and I were shopping with Richard that I didn’t seem submissive to him then. I clarified and said ‘I AM his submissive, it isn’t anything I have to do and isn’t how I need to act. It flows along with what his expectations are of me at that moment.” I told her that it isn’t as if there is a switch that he can reach over and turn off and on as he needs. It is ALWAYS there. Even if it isn’t blinking and calling attention to itself it is always there. I told her that at any time during our shopping trip he could have made me kneel or touch me or have me touch him and my response would have been immediate and obedient. I am his submissive; it is a state of mind. I hope I helped her see the difference.

 

Her other worry is of course the dynamic of the three of us being on vacation together. She said that she knows there will be periods were we will all be aroused. She wonders what we will do with all of that energy. She knows Richard is going to allow me to be in my natural role with him this time unlike last time when I felt as if my submission to him was somewhat stifled. He said that when we get to where we are going I do not need to make anymore decisions. He told us both that I will spend a lot of time ties to the bed and when we are in the room it is likely I will remain naked that entire time. I think I should be more nervous than what I am.

 

She and I like being together, we get along and we both get immense pleasure from the smile that never leaves Richard’s face when the three of us are together. It is fun for me to hang out with them; I am looking to them both as role models as I never really had a lot of positive adults in my life to seek guidance from. They are good for me. So we talked about our trip and we talked about how it made each of us feel when the other one is the center of Richard’s attention. I was a little surprised at how much reassurance she still seems to need even from me regarding what my role is in Richard’s life. Of course as we all know there are days when I need lots of reassurance too. I feel as if I am at a disadvantage. I hold a lot in as far as how I am feeling. It is important to me that Richard see me as strong so I find myself using the tools that he has given me and really trying to hold things together without relying too much on him for support. I know that L needs him right now…..that my presence in her life requires that Richard give her extra attention….I think it is easy to pretend I don’t need more attention from him.

 

We talked for a long time before Richard joined us. It was a special night with them. We are truly evolving and growing and finding our places. Part of me though underneath is aware of what I am lacking…and what they have together that I am missing. I think…and I wonder how this will all play out. I need more of Richard….or more something. I am not sure what I need.

S/M

watch

He bought a new toy. A crop actually. It is a fascinating little torture device. I won’t go into the fact that he was with L when he made the purchase. It was one of those conversations that I would have loved to have been privy too. I think about that sometimes….you know, what they talk about when I am not there. Not normal everyday husband and wife conversation but when they talk about me. It has to be more interesting now that L often refers to me as “little bird”. So I wonder how the topic of purchasing a crop to be used on me came up. I suppose I may never know but the thought intrigues me nonetheless.

The crop. Well…I was looking forward to feeling it. It was a new implement for me. Richard has had this dark twinkle in his eye ever since he purchased it and I knew as soon as he thought I was capable I would feel its sting. I was lucky that I remained a crop-virgin for as long as I did. My luck was running out.

I was as usual a few minutes late getting to our apartment last week. A million people always seem to need me the minute I begin to close down my office. I hate that feeling…knowing I am going to be late and knowing I am going to hear about it from Richard. He had given me specific instructions and being on time was one of them.

I walked into the apartment and knelt by the door as soon as it closed behind me. The room smelled like his shower. As I knelt I felt my eyes quickly adjust from the bright sunshine outside to the darkened apartment. I still feel breathless when I am on my way to see him. I have never known such heart racing recklessness. It is an addicting dynamic. It makes me feel so aware of my body, almost as if his very ownership of me makes me more aware of everything going on within myself. I crave his touch to the point my skin strains to feel it…it reminds me of the feeling of trying to hear something so quiet you can barely make it out. It is similar to that silence you try to create. That is how my skin needs him.

On the couch he sat shirtless with the crop laying off to the side…it was well within arms reach and he saw me pretend to not see it. My heart raced and ached and pounded as I waited to read whatever expression would cross his face. I knew he would probably chastise me for being late, I didn’t care about that. I just wanted his words, his eyes, his undivided attention fully focused on me. Our time together when alone has become doubly precious to me. Yes, when there are three of us things seems more natural but there is still a division of attention and a caution that I sense from Richard that he guard demonstrating affection to me. I am getting better at not letting that sort of withdraw hurt me. I am working at hard at convincing myself that part of my role is to make this easier on L. That I can be strong enough in his ownership of me to not need a lot of hand holding when the three of us interact. I think he could do better here and maybe in time he will. I also think I have done a pretty good job of respectfully verbalizing my needs to him and how it makes me feel to have him be guarded with me. Anyway…..

He let me kneel there a moment before telling me to remove my panties. I did and then he told me to crawl to him. Inside with every inch my body got warmer and warmer. I loved the rough feeling of the carpet beneath my bare knees and the way my dress fell open at front and I could see my thighs brush softly together. I was wet for him already and by the time I reached him and rested my head against his knee I stifled a moan. I felt his leg under my head and his hand rest in my hair. I imagined him pulling me roughly in front of him and smacking my face. Sometimes I just need that..lol. I can’t explain why but I do. But I also know that if he needed that I would have gotten it and he didn’t need it. He allowed me to rest there beside him on the floor for a few minutes.

When he spoke his first words were to remind me of the importance of being on time. He told me to plan better and not to be late again. Inward I sobbed quietly because I do hate that disappointed tone in his voice. I thought about explaining the intricacies that caused me to be late but figured he knew that- he was telling me to plan better- not change the world.

I felt him shift and knew he had picked up the crop. I didn’t move except to breathe and I am not even sure I was doing that. The crop was sliding down my arms and across my cheek. I had my arms folded around his leg and my head rested against his knee. The crop was gentle in its exploration and it caressed my cheek softly. He rubbed it across my mouth and down the curve of my throat. He allowed it to rest there for at least four or five breathes.

“Turn around and get on your hands and knees.” His directions were curt but not lacking warmth. His voice twists around me so I can’t help but to do as I am told. I was wearing a white dress….similar to a man’s white cotton dress shirt and a white bra beneath. My white panties had been discarded upon entering the room.

I felt his hands beneath my dress and he lifted it so it was bunched slightly around my waist. I held my breath not sure what was coming; the sting of his hand, a gentle touch or the new sensation of the crop? I felt the crop brushing my skin. It tapped at me and he told me to open my legs. I learned after only a few minutes that I didn’t like the crop.

It is a pain that I had a difficult time eroticizing. I imagine it would make a good punishment implement if Richard was all about being punitive. Its bite is not good at all. It is hard and thuddy….and doesn’t evoke one pleasant feeling inside me. It is a lasting pain that is no where close to being gone when the next blow lands. I found it quite difficult to take and was tempted to beg him to cane me instead. He started to use the crop on the softest part of my bottom first before moving down to the backs of my legs. I felt hot and aching before he was finished playing with his new toy.

I will not do a good job of explaining the next few hours. I remember being pushed down on the bed, and I remember him telling me that he was going to use all of my holes. I remember my mind going somewhat quiet after than and an accepting sort of subbie space feeling creeping over me. And I remember the feel of the crop on my breasts and on my back. I heard my moans and I remember him pulling orgasms out of my body.

Then…I remember him telling me to choose a cane. I needed something solid. I wanted something hard and thick and I wanted to feel the cane. I choose a larger one. A thick one and it was heavy in my hand. He told me to stretch across the bed as if he had tied me he said. He told me to spread my legs and reach as far as I could towards the top of the bed.

He is an expert with the cane. With a flick of his wrist he can leave me moaning and rolling from side to side warning myself to stay still for him. He canes my back and my legs…even a few on the backs of my feet. At this point I am gone…I am feeling the cane but drowning in the wonderful consuming pain of it all. You know, its that place I go; where pleasing him is the only thing that matters, where cruelty and agony is welcome and sweet. I needed it and he knew it. He took it all and I knew that he would. I wonder where it all comes from…where inside myself do I hold that type of resolve, that type of tolerance to what he inflicts on me. And what is it about my mind that makes me seek and crave and need more. Why can it sometimes not matter how much he pushes me or how hard he canes me or how tight he squeezes my neck….why do I always wonder what is next. Why when he gets that look on his face, the one he gets when he is holding one of my small nipples in each of his hands and he is practically lifting me off of the bed by them….I love that look.

After he caned me I remember him pulling me to my knees and burying himself deep inside me. I heard his moan and I struggled as I always do to take him that way. He pulled out of me after a few hard deep thrusts and flipped me over onto my back. His eyes never left my face and I couldn’t look away from his eyes as they devoured me and forced me to give it all up to him, to as usual submit to him freely. He pulled my legs over his shoulders.

“I am going to fuck your ass. Say it, tell me you want me to.”

“Please…” I would have said anything. “Please Sir…fuck my ass.” I didn’t cring the way I usually do when he makes me say this…I didn’t tense like I usally do when I know he is going to take me this way even though he hasn’t really taken me this way unless he behind me. I briefly wondered how possible that was.

“You are wet enough..aren’t you?.”

“Yes Sir.” I moaned into my arm trying now not to look at him.

“Reach down here and open yourself for me…” I obeyed him. “Good girl, that is how I like it, open it wide. I want to see what is mine, I want to see what I am fucking. Ask me again, ask me to fuck your ass.”

Again..I would have said anything, anything at all to feel him deep inside of me so great was my need.

I shuddered as he rubbed the thick tip of his cock against me. “Please…please fuck my ass” I begged him again.

He lifted my hips slightly and plunged inside me. I bit down on my shoulder and moaned loud swallowing a scream. I wasn’t sure what it was for pleasure or pain and with Richard it doesn’t matter…he gives me both and I take them as the same because in doing so I please him. They blend and I learn and I grow as I submit to him.

As deep as he was inside me I felt my body just relax into the strokes as if it somehow knew it was his to take. My legs on his shoulders felt natural and his eyes watching his cock go in and out of my ass felt almost natural too. This place is good I thought as I realized I was completely lost in the pure feelings coursing through my body. I tried to look and see what it was he was seeing…it fascinated me to see us joined together that way.

“What are you doing my pet…want to see?” He sounded breathless but amused and before I knew it he had turned me around and pressed back inside of me again from behind. He lifted me…effortlessly and was carrying me across the bedroom into the apartment bathroom. I clutched at him afraid for a second. I imagined him dropping me and breaking his cock off inside of me. Can that happen? Seriously…can it? And if it did…who would I call?

Anyway…once in the bathroom he somehow flipped the light on and all thoughts of his once joined to his body cock getting lost in the dark recesses of my ass were gone. I was mortified that I was actually going to see myself…gulp….back there.

He told me to put my feet on the ledge of the bathroom sink. He told me to look, to watch. I did. I had to. I couldn’t have not looked…his long cock buried deep in the pinkness of my small asshole; it was quite a sight and I couldn’t believe I was seeing it. The mirror reflected back to me such an imagine, one I will never forget. My face was flushed and my color was high. My eyes looked feverish and I was connected to him so completely. With every deep thrust it was as if we were sealed together…and I guess we are.

Somehow we ended up back across the bed. I remember him walking me back there with his cock still buried deep in his ass…I didn’t worry about it breaking this time. I wasn’t too worried about much of anything at this point.

I remember having him beside me and his hand on the back of my neck pressing me down into the bed. His hand was hard and I was on my tummy. His hand was wrapped around his cock and after a minute it was in my mouth, he had told me he would use all of my holes. After a few minutes I felt his hand pull my hair so my head pulled back sharply….he held his cock against my cheek and I felt his cum on my face. The head of his cock smeared it around in small circles. He brushed it across my mouth as if teasing me with the taste he knew I loved; reminding me that I would feel it drying tight on my cheek and would not be feeling it melt down my throat.

I remember waking up beside him later still floaty and slightly disoriented. Still happy and owned wrapped so safe in my Owners strong arms….with his lips in my hair and his sweet loving words filling my ears. He is careful to hold me close to him afterwards…there is nothing like that feeling. Being taken and consumed in such a way only to be allowed to glide back to earth safely, why would I give this up? Why would I ask him to?

S/M

growing

I have this insatiable desire to please Richard.  It is a feeling that gnaws at me at times….forcing me to reflect on my flaws and imperfections. I have been Richard’s submissive for almost a year. The day rolls closer and I am in awe of the changes I feel within myself. I notice that I tend to look at things with a new sense of maturity. I think that Richard has taught me that. I have this small little bag of gifts that he has given me that I carry around with me all the time. I don’t always remember to use them but when I do my days are smoother, less hectic.

I am also more in tune with my body. I have more self control; I am less impetuous, more focused. I also have the ability to almost control my orgasms. Tuesday night we were together and I realized that a word from him can bring my release to the surface or stifle it until he is ready for it. It truly is amazing because part of me wonders if I have truly learned to control my own orgasm or is it my body’s response to his command. I guess there is no way of knowing…and I suppose it doesn’t matter at all.

I also realize that there are so many different levels of D/s…and that it is real and not just something that people read about. It is significant because we are real people here in blog land that risk so much just to tell our story. And that it is valued and meaningful to so many people. That is pretty special to me.

Richard taught me that a person can risk a lot to finally be true to oneself. I am honored that I was able to assist him in this. I know what I mean to him. He amazes me…his capacity to give and to love is nothing short of inspiring. I hope that years from now I will be able to follow his lead and love the way he loves. When I think of what he did to make sure he could keep me in his life and stop leading a double life I feel very proud of him. I know, it feels and may even sound odd because I have no right to be proud of him. I think he should be proud of himself. I admire his strength in sitting L down and telling her the truth. I know a lot of people have commented here that it appears as if R has his cake and gets to eat it too. Perhaps that is true but really….what is wrong with that? He is doing it openly and honestly with two women who by their own choosing are sticking by him to make it work.

I remember one of my last conversations with Mark. He said that perhaps there are just things a person has to sacrifice for other people, that there are things one just has to be willing to give up for someone else. He was speaking of his own dominance and what it meant to him, perhaps even what I meant to him. I can see his point. But my counter point….is yes, but why should you have to? Would you lose the part of your personality that makes you laugh, or makes you cry or makes you love someone else if it pacified your spouse/significant other? And what does it say about the person who is asking you to forsake that part of yourself that defines a side of you they refuse to understand? I don’t understand that way of thinking the way I once did. It seems to me that is backwards thought and confining and selfish. I hope I never find myself in a relationship that would ask me to forsake part of my core. I refuse to be loved just for what is acceptable to that person. It is settling and too much sacrifice and I won’t….no I can’t and shouldn’t have to do it.

I see L as nothing short of amazing. Most women would have allowed pride and their own pain to get in the way of what was really being communicated. He was saying this is what I need to be whole…can you allow me to have it, would you deny me? At one time I said to L that in her shoes I would have walked away, I would have been hysterical and forced ultimatums even not knowing the outcome….I would have left. And I would have lost. Now though through her example I have learned that love is the most unselfish of characteristics that make us human, or at least it should be. Through their combined influence on my life my capacity to love and to be loved has increased. How do you thank someone for that? Is that not D/s in its purest form…is that not love in its purest form? I don’t even know what to do with that other than sit quietly and absorb it and learn from it.

I have learned a valuable lesson about love. I have learned that somewhere a long the way we are conditioned to think that love comes around once and when it does you need to latch onto it. I have learned this could not be further from the truth. Love does come around…but there is no limit on when it does or even when it can. I think that loving Richard taught me that. I see that love is not a measured cylinder in your body that can be used up or emptied. It is ever filling and often overflowing. I loved Liam while I was in love with Richard. I have no doubt that Richard loves me- really and deeply loves me just as I have no doubt he loves L. Him loving L does not take away from the love I get from him. I need to be reminded of that sometimes. (Especially when the built in dynamics and just the politics of our given roles cover my eyes.) I am his submissive. L is his wife. To say there isn’t a difference there would be foolish of me but the line of commitment and devotion are less obvious than you might assume. I am learning to be happy within my role even with its limitations because it is allowing me to grow and love and be loved both with him but with the Liams that come along. (Maybe because I am not seeing them so much as limitations as much as opportunities.) Another added benefit to this for me is having that couple that has been there, they have looked around the corners that I am just beginning to approach in my life and they are advising me. That alone is priceless.

From the first time I looked at Richard I had a feeling that my life would never quite be the same. I remember sitting across from Ms. Anna and him walking into the restaurant. She had warned me he was always late. It makes me smile because that first meeting between us was the only time he has ever been late.  I felt our connection from across the table and even if I didn’t know it then at that very second I became his.

I realize and this has been a more recent revelation that this is less about he and I and more about the three of us. I have had some pretty blunt lessons showing me that each of us can make this worse or better for all of us. And shouldn’t we all try to make it better. Early on someone gave Richard the advice that it was not Ls job to make this easy for me just as it was not my job to make this work for L. We are past that. It is our job. I could make her life miserable, she could make mine hell. And we could both rip Richard apart by refusing to settle into the newly defined roles we have created for ourselves in his and in each others life. We don’t do that. For many reasons. I think we have learned that we like each other. I see why Richard loves her, why their marriage has spanned my lifetime. She sees why Richard loves me; she acknowledges and respects that love and she allows him to revel in it. She allows him to have me without taking herself away from him. There are still bad days. I still flounder around and stumble. She does too….I imagine there are days where she will ask herself why she is doing what she is doing? Why has she allowed this third person into her life?

I won’t speak for her. She has her reasons.

We all do.

S/M

the bag

She never knew when he was going to call her. He didn’t know either. Sometimes the need to see her, to touch her, to hurt her struck him suddenly. At other times it was a slow burning desire almost as if from somewhere far away she was able to reach out to him and pull him to her. It was perhaps the only way she could tell him of her need. He often wondered and had shared this thought with her. He believed their need had formed such a bond that the other just knew when it was time. Time moved slowly when they were apart, almost as if fate itself was urging them to meet. He was a romantic at heart much more than she was and they had often laughed at their differences. She had not even known a man so sadistic and dominating to be truly sweet and funny. She thought of him often.

 

Sometimes he would wait and see if it the urge to see her would pass. If it wouldn’t build into the ache that he knew could only be tamed by taking her and using her. It never did. He sometimes wondered what he would do if she chose to deny him; if he called for her and she refused to come. He worried that an email may go unanswered or come after an agonizing wait only to tell him that she had moved on; that she was lost to him forever. The potential loss of her made her that much more precious to him. If he could only read her thoughts he would know that losing her was impossible. She needed him. Her need for him was as great today as it was the first time he touched her.

 

It was dark already when she arrived and she sensed he was already there. She wasn’t late…she would never be late for him. The air smelled grassy and the damp early night circled around her ankles as she climbed the stairs to where they always met. The moon threatened to spill their secrets as it began to peek out from behind the darkened clouds forming overhead. It was almost as if dusk had been hurried out of the way to make room for the night that would celebrate them coming together.

 

The door was unlocked and she let herself in. The smell of fresh paint assaulted her nose. It always smelled new to her she figured it was because they were there so rarely the new smell was never able to slip away. The front room was empty but she followed the sound of his soft humming and it led her into one of the two bedrooms. He had undressed down to black pants and his hair was longer than she had remembered it. He knew she was there and turned just in time to see her kneel quietly by the doorway. His smile was large as two long strides carried him across the room towards her. The need to lift her into his arms and crush her to him was as strong as his need to toss her to the bed and beat her before thrusting himself into her over and over. Their dynamic was special, their connection rare and she trusted him without doubt.

He fought the urge to follow his more primal instincts and placed a hand on her head.

“I am pleased you came my pet.”

She smiled warmed all over by both his praise and the endearment he used to describe her. She loved him and it flooded her. Her body grew heated at his nearness and she bent her graceful neck and kissed the top of his bare foot before resting her head against his knee.

 

He allowed her the luxury of kneeling there for he knew as only a true Dominant can what real pleasure it brings a submissive to be allowed to honor in that way. He could feel her breathing in his scent and he hoped it reminded her of goods times, of passionate times filled with the pain and pleasure that only a real power exchange can afford.

 

When he pulled her to her feet she stumbled a little taken off guard. He held her tightly and she relaxed into his embrace. “Turn around.” he said into her hair turning her even as he spoke. He pressed her against the wall and spread her legs with his knee shoving her white dress up to her waist. Her panties were soon pushed to the side and his fingers were pressing into her. She moaned softly and leaned her head back against him. “I needed to see if you were wet for your Master…I should have known my little slut would never let me down. How long have you been wet for me little girl, since I summoned you?”

“Yes Sir” she whispered through throaty moans that proved to him she was his. He pulled his hand from her cunt and caught her by the back of her hair pulling her from the wall. He pulled and she followed…a moment later she felt herself being tossed to the floor where she rolled to her back to look up at him. His eyes were brutal and dark and she knew he has waited to long to call for her. He needed her and his need was great. He placed a bare foot against her throat and pressed down…just hard enough so she had to fight the urge to grab at his ankle. She made her hands stay at her sides her mind telling her heart to relax and to trust him. He would take what he needed from her and fighting him at this point would only anger him and frustrate them both. “Good girl…that’s my good slut. You know what I could do to you, don’t you?”

“Yes Sir.” she mumbled. Finding her words were difficult and he pressed a little harder into her throat before releasing her. He dropped to one knee beside her and ripped her dress the rest of the way off. He pulled her bra off swiftly and she was need on the floor in front of him. Her nipples were hard and they beckoned to him. He loved her breasts….small and firm with hard little nipples. He pulled the clamps from his pocket and placed one on each relishing her moan….loving the way she cried out. Her voice almost a desperate plea for the release he would never grant her. He twisted the clamps loving the way her skin darkened and how she writhed on the floor in pain. His sadistic need filled the room as he realized he could do anything to her. She was his. “Get up.’ he said pulling on the clamps so she had no choice but to follow him. He held her against the wall again this time facing him. His focus was her eyes as he pulled and twisted the metal clamps attached to her nipples, he loved the way they filled with tears, reminding him of two blue pools that were almost too full. The water salty water threatened to spill over but it never did.

He wrapped his hands around each breast and shook them hard causing the clamps to pull tightly. Her body was warm and damp and she had a small sheen of silky water above her lip that he kissed away before lowering his mouth and biting at her breasts. He left teeth marks in her skin and he felt her shudder.

“What a cunt you are….I could make you cum just by doing this, couldn’t I.” he didn’t expect her to answer and that was good because she was too far gone to respond. He pushed her towards the bed and she lifted her arms to catch herself but didn’t turn around to face him. She was on her stomach and he pulled at her ankle so she was directly across the bed her bottom in the air. He smacked her hard over and over until she was begging him to stop. It was a hard spanking and he could feel the red welts rising up on her skin. “What did you say?” he asked pausing. “I said ‘please Sir’”

“Please what cunt?”

“Please Sir…don’t stop.”

“Good girl…because I know you wouldn’t ask me to stop. We are just getting started. Go get me the cane.”

He heard her take a deep breath and he wondered that it didn’t swallow her whole. “Now pet…obey me.” His voice was soft almost comforting and it gave her the strength to do as he asked. She dropped to her knees and crawled across the room to the armoire where he hung his collection of implements. She carefully selected a cane that she knew would please him and carried it back to him in her mouth.

He laughed softly and patted her on the head. “You really are my pet, aren’t you? What a good girl you are. And here I was worried that I had been lax in your training.”

He reached down and tugged again at the nipple clamps before sitting down on the bed in front of her. He left to cane in her mouth knowing it humiliated her. Her breasts were red and looked sore from the clamps and from the angry bite marks he left on her fair skin. He looked her in the eye and slapped her breast…first one and then the next. His slaps never slowed but grew in intensity until she was rocking from the force and struggling to kneel there and take it for him. She took it all and steadied herself against the onslaught of pleasure pain that washed over her. His face, his eyes drew her in and she waited eagerly for the next blow…she waited for him to rip the cane from her mouth and bring it down across her body.

 

He held his hand out in front of her and she dropped the cane into it. She wanted to look at him but had suddenly grown scared of his darkness and of her own.

She was looking down when his open palm made contact with her cheek. “Look at me.” he said and he slapped the other side of her face. His hand wrapped around her throat and he squeezed. He ripped the clamps off of her nipples leaving them aching and raw..his fingers found them and pulled at them without mercy while she struggled to breath around his grasp.

 

Lifting her from her throat he tossed her back to the bed and flipped her around on her back. The cane found its way back into his hand and he never stopped to remember how it got there only he needed it. He brought it down across the tops of her legs over and over and he lost track of how many times he hit her before telling her to roll over. Her bottom was still red from his spanking but the bite of the cane still showed up….first a hot white then a swollen red line greeted him, begging for more. She struggled with each blow until she stilled and he noticed that she leaned in after that. She was lost in the pain of her submission to him…in that place where even the darkest pain was full of shooting lights and pleasure. It was a dangerous place and he knew they could both linger there for too long. He forced himself to stop and he lowered the cane so his blows now fell across the backs of her thighs. This pain pulled her out of her safe zone and she cried out with each sting; her hands wringing the covers so that her fists looked bandaged.

 

She was wet everywhere and her mind was jumped back and forth from being numb to a hot awareness of every fiber and nerve of her tortured skin. She heard his breathing over the whispy whippy sound of the cane and struggled to pull herself up on her knees showing him that she was there….that she wanted more.

 

He wanted to give her more but knew he needed to allow her to rest. He wanted her to cool down…to let her breathing slow and her need simmer. He wanted this to linger…he wanted her to remember it and not stay in her floaty world of sub space.

 

There were other things he wanted to do to her tonight before he allowed her to fully slip away. He thought of what he had in his bag…wondered how her expression would change when he showed it to her. His fingers twitched to get it out…patience is a virtue he reminded himself as he laid down beside his trembling submissive. She clung to him trusting him to take care of her. He loved her deeply and he knew more than anyone just what she needed. Yes he thought….she would love the new addition to his bag. But for now he allowed her to rest her damp head against his shoulder and relax into the safe world he gave her through his ownership of her.