There wasn’t a lot for them to say to each other. When the day came for them to meet they wondered what it would be like. See, some things had changed between them; a little time, a little space, a lot of circumstances. Some things of course never change and it was those things that drew them back together. She carried more than a little trepidation into the apartment with her that night. Time is a funny thing. It isn’t so much the amount of time that passes as it is what transpires during that said amount of time. It is the conversations that happen or do not happen, it is the ‘life’ that happens, all the things that continue to fly past. All of the ‘stuff’ you can’t stop that changes everything. Or changes nothing.


She worried what it would be like when he touched her. Would he look at her differently? Would the need still be there, had it been replaced with something else? And how would she feel when he touched her? Would the enormity of other things in her life make her submission and his Ownership of her seem trivial, would it seem not so front and center? She worried about those things, so did he.


They shouldn’t have worried. What you don’t know about them is what they are still figuring out on their own. For all of the angst and pain and craziness that comes with needing what they need and sharing what they share. It is worth it. It has to be worth it because it isn’t some game they play, it isn’t some role they adopt every once and a while..it is their true selves that finally comes out of the shadows. Is it any wonder when they stand together they feel as if the entire world is shut out, as if no one else matters and the only thing that truly exists is each other?

He knew she was vulnerable that night. He knew she may crumble under his dominance and he also knew that she needed him more than she ever had. She came to him without expectations, with a plan to let it all take care of itself. She needed to feel strong and alive and full of everything that is good about surrender and love and pain. He could do that for her. He could do that because she had let him inside. There was a place in her soul where he sat, and really had sat since the day she met him and it tugged at her. It made her think and forget  at the same time and it made her stronger and weaker at the same time, dependent and self sufficient at the same time…and gave her more confidence and self respect and worth than she had ever been able to give to herself. So when he pulled her down beside him that night she felt that feeling of coming home…the feeling of goodness and of everything in the world being right. She was able to close out everything else and be his.

He asked her to stand up in front of him and he helped her rise off her knees so he could undress her. He slipped thin straps off of her shoulder and allowed her summer dress to hang at her waist. His hands knew her. They knew her skin and her softness and they knew what she needed. His words whispered to her that he loved her and that he found her beautiful. He said she amazed him and that he loved looking at her, touching her and all the feeling she pulled from him. He tried to explain to her the conflict in his mind and in his heart. The fierce desire in his blood to hurt her, really hurt her and the protective side, the side of him that wants to cradle her and sing her songs so she will sleep. He tried to explain the ache that causes him, the confusion that even strong sadistic men feel when the needs of their submissive are complicated and multi layered.

What happened next was what they both knew would happen. The real people within surfaced and they were their true selves for only the other sees that. And only the two of them can be in that room when the need that must be satiated surrounds them. It is one of those feelings that just lingers in the air as though stranded. It is hot and deep and it smells carnal between them. How else can pain and desire and surrender smell?


She described it later as being devoured. He described it as being just what he needed.

They both need more of the other yet are grateful for what they have. Today, she feels his hands on her, sees the mark of his strap, feels the bruises his mouth and hands left on her…and he feels what few men ever truly feel. He knows what it is like to truly Own another person. He knows what it feels like to hold the blade of a knife at her throat and have her beg him to not cut her and at the same time knowing he will and that she wants it.


How lucky they both are to have found the other….how many still search for that perfect person? The person that will never ever judge you or think what you need or want is wrong or bad or disturbing. So many of us never find that or if we do we are foolish enough to let it slip through our fingers. There is no slipping going on here, not today.


Right now, for all the other stuff going on day to day there is still no slipping. It is only good.


So much good.



8 thoughts on “slipping

  1. So lovely pixie. i have reread this twice and imagine i will do so again soon. Thank you for sharing this.

    “They both need more of the other yet are grateful for what they have”…how true, how true.


  2. “…she felt that feeling of coming home…the feeling of goodness and of everything in the world being right.”

    How true, Pixie! When two people have found each other, are able to be their true selves with each other, this is exactly what it is like.

    And sometimes that is all we need to sustain us…

    Much love,

  3. Such emotion here pixie. When I read your title I was afraid ‘slipping’ meant something bad and that you and Richard had broken up.
    This is a nice portrayal of deep feelings between two people and you are right and you are blessed to relaize not everyone finds what you have found.

  4. “He tried to explain the ache that causes him, the confusion that even strong sadistic Owners feel when the needs of their submissive are complicated and multi layered.”

    You blog is addicting.

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