D/s

thursday

Dear Richard,
I publish your letter because it reads to me as if you intended it to find its way on my blog. I do write for myself….but you know it is more than that. I do pour my feelings out here and you know that it helps me. I do not write or speak for that matter without regard for how my words affect others. I am a strong believer in perception being reality. What you said to me Wednesday and my reaction to it was just my perception…even a snapshot of the reality that perception provided.
I am struggling with your need to respond to my pain by criticizing me and admonishing me for feeling it…even if misunderstood what you were saying criticizing me for it doesnt seem helpful. You’ve somehow turned my pain around and attempted to make me feel guilty for feeling it. When I wrote ‘Wednesday’ it was never with the intent to hurt you. I simply seek understanding. I was crushed by my perception of what you were saying to me for the very reasons you speak of below. I didn’t think you could make me feel the way you did sitting with me Wednesday knowing what I know about you and being secure in how you feel about me. Yet I drove away deeply feeling all of what I poured into Wednesdays post.

pixie,
I know that you can feel a certain way, and push out a 1000-word snapshot of it within minutes. You do it, I think, to get the thoughts out of your head. That is why your writing is so free, so compelling, so beautiful, so captivating. I wouldn’t change it for all the world. But it takes me a little longer. So think of this as Wednesday (according to Richard), or even Thursday.
When I write I have a different purpose. I am usually trying to clarify, teach, explain, enlighten, persuade, bring understanding. Sometimes my words hurt. When they do it is either because I intend them to hurt (we have seen that a few times in your blog when I have lashed out at people), or because I have inadvertently hurt someone, or because my words contain some truth that is painful. I have NEVER hurt you intentionally with my words. I have never lashed back at you when you have said unimaginably hurtful words to me on purpose. And so it has been particularly painful for me to hear you accuse me of hurting you, of saying things that would “rub it in your face.” That you can even imagine that of me is crushing. That you could say it to me is just very difficult to accept.

OK…let’s explore this. I did accuse you of rubbing it in my face. That is exactly what you did, it may have been inadvertent, it may have just been insensitive but it was not my imagination. You emailed me after you and I had ended what has been the most meaningful relationship of my life…I am struggling and sad. Frightened and resigned to making this stick…that I could be strong because I truly felt it best for you. Then your email- it tells me you are going away for Valentines Day weekend…then the following weekend you are traveling south with friends and after that you and L will be exploring charming southern towns for the home you will be purchasing this spring. Oh and btw….you won’t be around much the next couple weeks. So please do not say my impression you were rubbing something in my face crushed you…do not try and make me feel guilty for having feelings. It was unnecessary and it was cruel. It was ten times as hurtful because it was so out of character…it was so insensitive given what was going on at that moment between us.

You can hurl your words out into the world just to get them out of your head. I don’t believe that you intend them to hurt. But sometimes they do. You send them off for your own purpose, you write for yourself, so you can write with disregard for what others think of them. I understand that. And you are justified in saying that no one is forced to read your words. But I do, and sometimes they hurt. They are like icicles hanging from the roof – when they drop they can be deadly; or like snow piled deep on a steep roof. When the sun begins to warm it up, it can come off in a mini-avalanche, and bury anyone standing in the way. I used to have to teach my children about this when I lived up north. You are burying me in your words this week.

Well you know Richard……you are buried right beside me because your words haven’t been particularly warm and fuzzy this week either. And all this is unfortunate….we are so much more than this.

We have disagreed on what I said Wednesday or at least on what it meant. You say that I told you that seeing you once a month would be enough for me. What I actually said was, hypothetically speaking, if I had to choose between seeing you once a month or never again, I would choose once a month, even as I knew that that choice would not work for you. You have explicitly said that you would choose nothing over once a month. I understand why that is – I would not ask it of you. But please don’t tell me that the words I said mean that once a month would be “enough” or that it would be what I would choose, or worst of all, that it somehow means I love you less for wanting to hold on to any piece of our relationship rather than give it up entirely. You have twisted my words into an indictment of how I feel about you, how I have treated you, what I have taken from you. You must know that is unfair. To me it is a reaffirmation of how I feel – that I would take seeing you once a month over nothing. I’ll go further – if I never see you again, I would still want to talk with you, and count you as a friend. You and I are a part of each other forever – regardless of how little time we spend together. Do you remember when I told you that in my entire life I only fall in love a little bit. You laughed at the time but I meant it. I love L. I love you in a way I have never loved another. Yes- including her.  I couldn’t ever just give you up. 

Yes you did Richard…maybe not with the exact words but you did say it would be enough. The very fact that you would allow that option to ever be viable….to even be negotiable says it is enough for you- or else you wouldn’t do it. To allow an ultimatum or to allow yourself to be made to decide between seeing me once a month with NO other contact –vs- nothing and not insisting on ANY other option astounds me. I have not twisted your words….I am hearing you clearly. If I looked at you Wednesday and said … “OK….let’s do this ya’lls way. I’m fine with it. Call me around the 11th of March and give me a room number….I’ll meet you there around five-ish. You can beat me and fuck me all you want- within the three hours you would be allowed to spend with me- and I won’t bother you again until April 11th.”

What would you have said?

You told me that you could go home to L and say to her you were going to see me once a month and not talk to me at all between meetings and she would be alright with it….yet if you went home to her and said… “Ok….dear- from now on I am only seeing pixie every other week…and you see…I’m sorry about this sweetie but she has this little thing in her chest that makes her HUMAN….she happens to have a heart, and feelings…and over the past two years I have allowed her to become quite attached and dependent on me…So (sigh) I’m going to have to give her a call every day or so…keep her warm so to speak then when I see her I don’t have to do any of that emotional stuff like TALKING or HOLDING her…I can just beat her and be home by ten.” If you said that to her it wouldn’t be enough….that still wouldn’t work for her.

Yes, it is true that I “need” less than you do from our relationship. I have another in my life helping me fill it. I have another place to pour love into. But I have not taken anything from you that I did not need or want, or that did not help make me whole where I was once just a part of the man I am. And I gave as much as I took. I know that you needed much from a Dominant, and I gave it as best I could. I know that you are worth it all. I know that you are worth GIVING to. You know that in my dominance, I so enjoyed YOUR pleasure, and giving it to you, pulling it out of you. Is it wrong of me to work hard at providing that to you, whether or not I “needed” it? I have always been mindful of your needs, and the need to make the relationship work not just for me but for you. Maybe that makes me a strange Dom indeed. Guilty as charged. And now I am accused of taking more than I needed? I do not understand these words. Should I be sorry that I taught you much, I gave you much, I taught you that you were worthy of love, and that loving always involved risk but it should never be avoided because of that? I should feel as if I did you a disservice?

Not a disservice Richard…not like that. What you say is true…you did teach me SO much….and you love me. I know that you do…and my feelings were hurt and my heart was broken when I wrote what I wrote. Old doubts showed up and guided my fingers…its easier to be angry when you can feel manipulated. You didn’t take anything from me that I didn’t want to give. You reveled in my pleasure and allowed it to linger between us for longer than I’ve ever thought possible. But don’t you see….all of this fuels my pain and my angst and confusion over where we are. We ARE all THAT to each other. You’ve also taught me loving one doesn’t take from the other…yet this is a case of do as I say not as I do. Because you spent so much time and energy making what is between us into the truest form of power exchange most have ever seen…..the fact you would allow it to be crumpled up and packaged into a every thirty day therapy session bewilders me. I didn’t get here by myself….all of those times when you took me to the edge of what was sane and gently brought me back…and all of the times your words pulled submission and pain and surrender from my body with ease until it flowed from me to you….we did that together. We created this thing between us that can’t be chiseled down into anything less than what it already is. So yes…I know you well enough…God I’ve experienced your Ownership and sadism and Dominance enough to know once a month could NEVER be enough for you. Never. Yet….you would sacrifice your need after all of this to only have a monthly scene….that’s what I meant. You wouldn’t need me for that. You could have any number of submissives who would meet you once a month and experience what you offer.
Submitting to you…..is perfection to me. I am in my element beneath your hand. You have shown me how far I can be taken….what I can take and the pleasure to be found from the whip…the flogger…the cane. You have perfected my submission….you have trained me well. Would an owner of a fine horse spend 2 years training a prized mare….honing in on her strengths and weaknesses, her vulnerabilities and fears until she moved to his rhythm perfectly….to where she only allowed him in her saddle only to stable her and ride her once a month? How tame is a neglected horse….the owner will not be able to hand feed her….or ride her as he had become accustomed.

And how did we get here? You have watched me struggle in recent weeks. You have seen pain on my face and heard it in my voice. You know that things with L have not been smooth. You thought it sudden, but I have told you it is not sudden. She has struggled since last summer with the fact that there is another woman in her marriage; another woman living in our house, in my life, in her life; someone who is always present just inside my head, just behind my eyes. Someone who lights up my face when she walks into sight or calls on the phone. Someone who loves me as much as any wife loves her husband. One who needs and wants as much of me as you do. It is hard for her to accept this as part of a marriage. And that is without even mentioning how hard it is for her to accept how *I* feel about you. And so, she fights for my time, my attention. And on those occasions when you and I have gotten off the tracks, last summer and again in the fall, and I asked her advice on whether or not I was still good for you, or whether my being in your life had become a negative thing. And each time she said, no this is not a good time to leave her life; she needs you. She struggled with her own feelings, and had compassion for your needs. And now she is again struggling with all of it, and yes, putting pressure on me to end it with you. And you see the pain this has caused me. And what did you do and say? You said you could not stand to be the cause of that pain, and you couldn’t do this anymore. And for the first time in our relationship, I did not have the strength to try to talk you out of it. You are too eloquent for me. You told me you would rather walk away on your own terms than have L force the issue with me, leaving all of us damaged. And I struggled with your choice, and whether or not to Dom you back, and whether or not there were other options – even your Monday post talked of searching for other options. And I let you be for a few days, and you asked for my help, and we met and we talked about us and the future and what could we do….. And here we are now. After all those promises about no anger, no regrets, just the pain and the love – here we are, and you are hurt and angry, and I am regretting so many words that can’t be undone, and hurting that I cannot control the world, like every Dom wants to. That I am caught between two women I love and hurting them both. And agreeing with your assessment that “happily ever after” was never in the cards for us. Here we are…..

yes Sir….here we are. I am not going to comment on L’s compassion knowing what I know and having seen what I saw. She has had her own agenda for allowing this to continue and her own reasons now for insisting it end. And I am not angry. I guess I never was. I stand by everything I said. About not being at the root of your pain; I meant that. Your pain is a million times harder to deal with than my own…..it is a darkness that I can’t move away from. And I am sorry for turning back to you in my pain….in my despair hoping you were coming to me Wednesday with a solution. With some miracle plan to make it possible to not have to walk away from the man who can pick up a knife and cut me as I sit still and let him…..or make it so I don’t have to only dream about the cross and the smell of the doeskin on my back. And that didn’t happen…not like I had hoped. Instead you spoke of monthly meetings and you being satisfied with that…with that being better than nothing- not enough but better than nothing. And in my pain….I heard it would be enough….you would make it be enough- you would not fight for us to have space and time to continue a viable relationship regardless of all we’ve shared if I could make it be enough. And I heard….we can get together once a month and L will be okay with that because she wouldn’t want to send you off to Dom just anyone. It would take away her worry that the possibility of your next submissive being just as perfectly created to meet your needs as I am and yet be a real threat to her….closer to your age etc. In my pain I thought….oh gee…not only do I lose my Owner…my Dom…my great friend but in the process I can safely provide the outlet for this little bit of ugliness she finds in you. You used the word therapy…..you said it was on the table but you knew I could never do it. You said you could- that is was better than nothing. Yes to you….and even to her I suppose it would be.

And your words hurt.

I’m sorry. Your words hurt me too.

You have said that I am ahead of you on the path to accepting an end to our relationship. Yes, I admit it.  I broke down and cried in front of my wife over the expectation that I was losing you. Can you imagine that? I have been part way down that road. YOU have seen a world where I do not exist; I have seen a world where I DO exist and it is without you.  Your words hurt me, dear pixie. Your thoughts hurt me worse.

Do you not see why I struggle with this point of view? Do you not understand why when you said this to me Wednesday I was unable to look at you? The thought of losing me Richard should have made me more precious to you….your pain at the thought of a world without me should have made the blessing that my struggle in the short term is easier a reason to hold me close to your side. It shouldn’t have made me expendable to you.….it should not have made my absence somehow less painful or easier to deal with. Its like losing a child in the mall. The horrible thoughts that race through your mind and all the horrific things that could have befallen her while she wandered away…..a person doesn’t say oh crap that sucked but I got a handle on that feeling here baby go play in the street.
And you chastise me for my words never thinking your words are seen as cruel and unthinking and insensitive. You are saying you spent time in your head in the world without me and it wasn’t so bad so it sure is easier letting me go now when it’s hard to keep me.

I have fought to keep you in my life more than you will ever know. You will never know how many times I wanted to walk away from L- walk away not only for a happy ever after with you but to flee the contempt and irritation that has festered for so long. I love you.  And it is I who keeps trying to find a way to keep some of you, any of you, without totally destroying my marriage, without doing damage to it that no one can repair. And perhaps you are right in saying enough is enough – you don’t want to be the cause of that pain. Perhaps. Again, I think it is my decision, but it is not the first time you have tried to make it for me. So… perhaps you are right. But whether or not you are right, you cannot believe the things you have written about me, not if you have ever had any respect for me.

That’s not fair…and respect is not a good word here. Not when I feel the lack of it so deeply…not when you have not one time said to me- OK pixie what would make this work for you- what are you willing to compromise- what are you willing to sacrifice to keep me in your life. NOT ONCE. You sit there with L and negotiate my life as much as you negotiate yours together. You bring me ‘on the table’ options and do not ask for my input. It feels like….when you know what I am doing tell me. You come at this refusing to acknowledge my right to feel or to react to all of the changes. You come at this on the defense when you know it isn’t that simple. I can’t believe what I wrote about you….that is why it hurt me so badly. That is the root of my despair….the cause of me feeling fooled or wronged.

Maybe this is your way of making it stick. You have tried that before too. But your tears seemed too real for me to believe that. Instead I am left to believe you really think me capable of the hurt you have described, intentionally, disrespectfully, certainly not loving. I just do not understand how you can have these thoughts about me, knowing me as you do, knowing what has transpired between us, knowing what perfect connection we have made. I just don’t understand it.

And I can’t believe knowing me as you do, knowing what has transpired between us, knowing the perfect connection we have…..that you would just let me walk away. That there is no other option….that allowing me to walk away…to release myself to end your pain is not worth a better option than once a month.
My tears are real. They were real Wednesday…they are real at this very moment. My pain is real too….my perception is there and can’t be changed by a scolding.
I apologize for writing words that hurt you. You know what hurting you does to me inside. When you said you would respond to my post this isn’t what I expected. Its like we didn’t witness the same conversation Wednesday….I can’t imagine how you would think my reactions could be anything more or less than what they were given my perception of all you were saying.

So I try. I continue to reach out. You continue to ignore me. You will win that battle – the submissive always does. But I don’t give up easily, and I haven’t given up yet. But if you really believe all that you have written about me, about how I feel about you, about your worth to me, about how much you matter to me, then there is no point. I hope it isn’t so. If I never see you again or hear from you after today just know that you will always hold a piece of my heart that I could never give to another. 

No Richard…I don’t doubt any of that. I do doubt this is something you want to continue to struggle for. I do doubt that you will continue to reach out to me….or that you can come to me with a workable solution. I doubt we will ever interact again….and I doubt you will be happy and I doubt me staying away from you will fix your marriage. And I doubt you can or even want to fix us…..you won’t offer or find a working solution when one of us are determined that there is NO working solution as long as I am a player. You will never be able to find a compromise when you place more value on one person’s happiness over another’s. That is as it is….and as it should be I suppose. But you ‘came out’ so to speak so you would not have to hide this relationship…this part of you that you give to me but that is still a part of YOU and your marriage. You changed everything for all of us….and now it’s like you want to undo that. Can you hide your sadism away…..pretend again you aren’t who you are…..that you don’t want to hurt me? You said you wondered how long you could go without needing to have what we had. You wondered aloud to me if the level of submission and dominance we created between us could be something you could live without now that you know it exists? How long you wondered before you got that itch….? And you followed all of that with the hypothetical once a month scenario. Yes, I reacted badly. I did. My pain got the best of me and I was cruel to you in my post but it was written with honest pain and perception that lingers still. It is only the level of trust I have in you that makes this apology sincere.
This response and mine back to you solves nothing. I maintain and even reaffirm my desire to let you go. Not in anger. Or regret….just pain and with that a hope that you will be happy. Is there a fix? I don’t think so….would I listen if you had options and wanted my input….yes. Of course I would. Do I want you to give up trying….only if it hurts too much. All I want is for you to see where my pain came from….and not see it as insulting to you or to what we shared. Is that so off the wall…my reactions and impressions of this entire thing…? Surely it makes sense to you.
I’m not ignoring you. Unless you have a possible ‘fix’ we shouldn’t spend a lot of time…if any talking. It’s too easy right now to be misunderstood….my pain has left me vulnerable to misunderstanding. Every word passed between us gives me hope that we can have something….that I could still be a part of your life without ruining the rest….and without ruining myself. I said to let me be strong or to let me be weak….strong is a long ways off and I am better at being weak so unless you can be the Dominant who taught me both were ok…and both were possible there is nothing left. A little contact reminds me of how little it is….of how much I love you and all of the places you’ve taken me through your ownership.
You know where I am and you know how I feel and you know I will ache for a long, long time if you are missing forever from my life. I love you. And I am sorry I hurt you.
pixie

Love, R

D/s

wednesday

I understand sadness. It is an emotion that I am not afraid of, I think some people fear sadness. Of course they do- it only makes sense to fear something that hurts. Sadness hurts. Sadness is a lot like many other emotions. It is generic for so many other things. You can be sad because you lost something or even someone. You can be sad because you are lonely, because you are lost or just because looking around you are too jaded to see all the good life gives you. Sadness can come because your favorite team lost or you didn’t get a promotion. There is hope in sadness. Sadness often comes before a new beginning. A loved one dies….yet you know their suffering has ended. He leaves you…yet you know it is a new day. Some people arrange their life around being sad. Sadness is generic though for a lot of things. A constant concerning sadness is that it always goes away. It can be fleeting or it can linger for a time. Sadness doesn’t scare me. I’ve been sad. I’ve been deeply sad lately. I don’t think I am sad anymore.

I understand despair less. I haven’t spent as much time with despair. Where sadness always ends I think despair stays with you for always. Despair is not a generic feeling. Despair is haunting and dark and walks closely by a person’s side. It is a pain that stems from confusion and bewilderment, agony and a new uninvited perspective. It is a pain that lives beneath your skin and on your face and in your eyes. You breathe it and you bathe with it. It never goes away. It often sneaks up on you and roughly opens your eyes to everything that you had allowed yourself to not see. Blindness, denial, innocence and hope- all are enemies of despair. For despair to set in all other emotions have to surrender. Tonight I have a better understanding of despair.

I refuse to deceive myself a moment longer. I sit here tonight so opened up with despair and anger and a spinning confusion that is startling to me with its intensity. I saw him today. I asked to see him and he happily complied. I don’t even know how to explain how our meeting made me feel or what it made me feel. It’s as if I showed up with painted glasses on and walked away with a basket full of broken truths.

The goal in his mind is to find a place where he is getting what he needs from me and not giving so much back that it further damages his marriage. The goal in his mind is to be able to step backwards and see what he can take from me that doesn’t require him giving back more than she finds acceptable. He is looking for the place where I can give but not need, where he can own but not hold a leash. She has reminded him that before me he settled for much, much less; that his relationship before me had sometimes month long gaps between interactions. And it didn’t include daily conversations or nightly sweet goodnight messages….it was something he really didn’t need to put anything into. He survived it- it was enough for him for a long, long time.

He tells me he is a different person now, that with me he discovered a compelling aspect of his dominance. As a sadist he never thought he could love the one he was hurting. He wonders what he can live without now that he has tasted what we have created between us. Today when we talked I recognized honesty in his words that cut at me. He recognized that he could easily dominate me back…and he was right. He could have. There is not a whole lot of shame in that admission, it paints a foolish picture of me now especially given the new perspective I am yet I do not hesitate to pour out my sorrow or embarrassment here. I asked him what he wanted…what he would want if he didn’t have to think about my needs. I asked him what would be enough. There was a lot a uncharacteristic vagueness in his response that I found initially upsetting and then comforting as I sought anything soft to carry away and cover myself with after I drove away from him. Somehow and not at all unintentionally he said in her perfect world, in the one outside him not needing this dynamic at all he would once a month pick up the phone and call me and tell me he needed me. We’d meet for a few hours and he would get what he needed. To her I could be therapy for him in a way. “But that would never work for you and I would never ask you to do that.”

I stopped breathing. He was saying to me that would be enough for him. That seeing me once a month could easily replace what we have now, that the pay off- the rewards of making her happy would justify turning what we have into- I am at a loss here. I don’t know what that would make me to him. What do you call that? It shows me so much, tells me so much. My sobs were easily hidden inside a balloon of humiliation that spontaneously expanded in the space between where we sat.

If that is enough….if that is all he needs then why did he let me give so much for so long? Why did he turn my submission into something I now only see as his? The days and days were we were inseparable, when we did not even want to leave each other and go home to our own beds…what was that all about? Why did I give my soul if he only needed my skin….surely there were submissives out there that would have not been like me. A submissive not so fragile, or needy or narcissistic. A submissive that wouldn’t have developed a love and devotion so intense and real that it required attention. My confusion is a road that leads to only more confusion. Surely he knew he was taking more than he needed, more than he wanted even.

All along he didn’t even need what I was giving. If he only needed water why did he demand chocolate? Why now after showing me all that could be can he say it was never truly necessary after all? Was it all an experiment? Yes we always knew it would end yet how can he suggest that we could take everything we’ve shared and all we give to each other and change it into something that can be taken in a few hours every thirty days. Is that all I have become to him? How is that enough for him? He asks…wouldn’t that be better than nothing?

Inside I am screaming and confused and I want to just ask him….but how can you let that be everything? If you are willing to take that much away from me for the sake of someone else, for anyone else then I am nothing to you after all. To say that would be enough for you…that would be acceptable to you changes the way I see you-changes the way I see us and what we shared for always. How can you teach me to love you and serve you….and submit to you in ways I never knew possible and then say you would settle for once a month with me? That you don’t need me and would be ok not talking to me in the life filled moments in between the few hours of submission. Do you know what that says to me…it says that is my worth to you after all. That all of the seconds in between matter less than the minutes where I give myself to you. Could you do that? You wouldn’t think of me…you wouldn’t miss me? I am so confused…so hurt and bewildered. You don’t need me…you need a submissive without a heart, without a soul. Or just an submissive, a warm masochistic passive body…any submissive. It wouldnt even have to be the same one month to month…would it? You would ask that of me….? Why did you give me so much…or teach me so much only to show me it can all be compacted into a monthly session. Maybe that is me now, maybe that is what I’ve become. You need a contract submissive that will invoice you monthly. To take the developed gift of my submission, to take the raw surrender I came to you with- that you grew and transformed into something you once said was perfect for you and demean it by carving it into something not only unsuited to me but contradictory of all you have ever made me believe about you and us and your needs.. I thought you needed me too…only you don’t need ME in your life…once a month isnt part of your life. And to think….you would let us become that breaks my heart.

My despair is clouding my ability to think because my mind is so off balanced this second. I am full of despair and hoplessness and enough pain for twenty seven people. I am not thinking, only feeling right now, only developing an understanding so startling and painful I can no longer contain it. I need to run away from it and tonight I would do anything, anything to block this throbbing feeling. I just need it to stop. How can I stop this pain and make it go away. Why did I think it was all real…and why do I feel so betrayed and at the same time feel like I am betraying him for seeing what has always been there. Is my agony just not knowing if I wouldnt do it? Is it that part of me deep inside myself that I am learning to hate again that tells me I’d do anything he asked. How can I even go there knowing what that would make me….This is what he meant when he said there was nothing he couldn’t live without…how do I live with this? I’ve never felt so unsure of my need to even try. What am I doing?

I want to be wrong. I want to be wrong and I want him to have words to fix this. I want to know he would never abuse my love and submission by asking me to do that. It’s enough that I know it would be enough for him. Just typing that breaks something again inside of me. If that is enough why…why did he let me give so much…why did he give me so much only to take it back…to not need or want it anymore.

And why is my pain tonight alright with him? And why am I so vulnerable that I took what he gave me and what I gave him and convinced myself it was love…that it was worthy of holding onto just like anything else claimed to be of value. I’ve never felt so disillusioned or bewildered. I don’t trust any of my feelings. I just want to leave.

Why did he get me this far….give me so much and teach me so many lessons about myself only to in one afternoon show me I am so much less…that I am not worthy of more. Him asking that of me and my response to him would take away all the good that his dominance and ownership of me has provided.

Why take a girl like me and work so hard to make her see herself as something more only to have her prove to you and to herself that she isn’t?

D/s

what its like

There was a look to his face that was both beautiful and hard; a beloved definition set deep into his bronzed expression that called urgently to her. Denying him was like holding her breath or cutting deep into her own skin. He would call to her and she would come. Sometimes he imagined she had been discovered sleeping beneath dewy flowers that grew lush and full near the sea and brought into this world just for him. He would touch her and pull her inside of him reminding her in the fleeting first heartbeat of their reunion that she was loved, protected and though at times far away she was always, always on his mind and deeply intertwined in what made his day good or what made his day melancholy and sad.

He would settle her near to him, against him, in him, at his feet or on his lap so that his hands could brush her skin. They could linger at her slim boned shoulder, the tender little area on the back of her neck or the brazen little spot between her small young breasts. Her skin was magic beneath his fingers and glowed in his hands like a newly born rainbow. Having her close enough to touch settled a rage within him that she knew well, that she using her intuition understood and cherished. It comforted him and made him feel more deeply settled and connected to the man who spoke when he was alone with himself. He kept her close enough so that she too could touch him. He welcomed her fleeting little hands against his face and loved the way they danced in his hair for they reminded him of places he had visited in his own youth. Oh how he warmed her,  how the shadow of his presence shaded her. To her….how startling beautiful it felt to be so firmly settled at his feet. His hand pressed her face against his knee and she leaned into him tilting her head so it rested their in the curve of his skin. His touch made her feel as if she had found the home she had been seeking for so long.

He kept her suspended in a damp netting of wonder and aching need and taught her that he was the weaver, he was the one who could release her from the net or allow her to become tangled so that she lost pieces of herself in the rough sea hardened edges of what he wove around her. He tried to never take anything without replacing it with something better, something stronger, and something more. He tried to never break anything inside of her or against her that he couldn’t piece back together. There were times he had left her broken, times even after taking great care with her he had left her damaged. The aftermath of her wounded spirit would remind him of her fragility, he would be reminded that she was only as strong as he allowed her to be, only as safe inside of her soul and in her submission as he left her. It was a great responsibility. Yet like a small child she trusted him and offered it to him again and again with an infinite gentle grace that he valued and treasured. She looked at him and up to him in a way that he sometimes felt he hadn’t earned. With her humble submission she humbled him. 

She guarded her heart and the gift of her trust with an iron will that had somehow almost mystically and quite fatefully opened easily for him; she had let him in, curled around him and loved him from the start.

She held him above all others for the gift she gave him must only be offered to someone deserving, enlightened and charmed. He had been chosen by her and in her he found the greatest of gifts. Her fingers trembled with eagerness to play about his darkened eyes, his parted lips, and the dangerous set of his jaw. He glistened. 

She touched his face so that she would always remember his face. She knew of darker days when he would not be there, no hard arms gathering her into the white light that defined his absolute ownership of her. She willed her hands to hold onto his face so that she would never forget the expressions found there. He humored her and allowed her gentle explorations. If she could only maintain the sinfully complete knowledge of what it felt like to be lost in the hard, darkened existence of him she would never be lost again. She hated the lost feeling that could coldly settle deep in her mind, in her otherwise brilliant existence when she was too long from him. If she knew that she would always remember his taste, always be able to sink backwards into the white hot memory of what he gave her, of what they gave each other perhaps she would not need to touch him so. She was more herself when at his feet, more alive when within his sight. He knew her, knew her laugh, her cries and could taste her vulnerability and need so warm and soothing against his tongue for he understood her. He was the man who could suspend her powerless, who could pull her into himself and take everything. He could continually shatter all the pieces of residual innocence and leave quietly without breaking the winged spirit she held out to him like a shiny piece of fruit or an unbroken shell. He was the faraway adventure of her girlish fantasies. Yet he breathed, he lived and his teeth were against her neck, his rough hand even now bruising her parted thighs.

In her he found an infinite release, he could pour the pain created with his own hands into the warmth of her tender body and with creative strength and beautiful submission she would taste it, strip it down to the darkened core and savor it in her mouth, with her body, with her soul. She would wrap it around herself leaving her scent, leaving whispered moans and tearful pleas clinging to this creation, to what he conceived in that clouded over place that was inside of him. She would absorb it and like rain she would dance about in the dampness of it thinking nothing of getting wet only of the joy in the dance. For him she would dance and the steps of her dance would provide a soothing rhythm that would force the shadowy cloudiness in him away, it would welcome the pain he created, it would bring light to where before there was only darkness and restraint. With her dance she beckoned to him with lilting hands and graceful feet tossing absolution over her shoulder like petals from a flower girls basket. She scattered freedom at his feet. In her it dissolved, it somehow became more a part of him as he fed it to her than it was when it was cloudy and raging invisible deep and lost inside his own body. She would silently return it to him healed somehow yet unchanged, sweetened and thick like a jellied pleasure that he wanted to melt into. In her he found honest vindication.

She liked to think that when they were together the world stood quietly. Time passed more slowly or not at all. People walked stiffly and spoke with their hands or with small notes so not to disturb what they couldn’t see or understand. It was as if everyone else was unenlightened, as if they could sense something around them but could only imagine what it was. So they tiptoed and whispered amongst themselves; they waited. And when he touched her it was as if they were alone in the isolated darkness sheltered by a world that protected them with their silence quite unknowingly.

In him she found everything light and dark. She saw him standing on a partially lit street, or maybe a darkened road his hands opened imploringly and she recognized the sign he carried. It was in her language and it spoke to her, just to her with dark red and purple words. And they wrapped themselves around her and tugged her clothes from her body leaving them damp and muddied in the road. She was his for he had made her so. She carried him around with her as sure as if she too were nestled into the closed warm palm of his thoughts every moment. He plunged into the opening of her desires as if he were a constant stream of consciousness that flowed with her, same  as her breath, her heartbeat, life, death. They were all one and he was a part of the flow that joined her to the earth and the earth to her soul. He was in the lining of her heart and in the color of her blood, the brightness of her eyes- he was there. He was a wooded forest of restoring need and cropped tortured cries that she needed to release into the sanctity of him. And even with warnings in her ear not to venture too far out into the starkness she walked brazenly, fearlessly into the shaded darkness. She knew there was haven there and she knew that beneath the branches there was life. With him she could be frail, translucent and simple and yet maintain the power that moved him farther beyond himself than anyone else ever could.

He could make her into anything he needed her to be. Her body, damp and small, trembled as he lifted her nearer to himself so that she was almost one with him and he could taste her in the air. He allowed her body to meld against his so that the heat of her slid slick against his lean body. There were pieces of her he could pull inside himself so that her smell was his smell and her taste was warm in his mouth. Her taste was more of an essence they had stewed together, pieces of them both boiling down together into a warm creation, a potpourri of its own and the smell it emitted was detected only by the two of them. The Ru of her would linger around him for days and he would wander lost in its thick sweetness. Until suddenly it was gone and like her scent she would be off of his fingers, out of his hands and he would feel a deserted sense of sadness at its loss.

When he spoke it opened her mind, her body. From his voice, his breath, his words came a force that drew from her the full surrender that she yearned to give. It tumbled out of her like a foggy breath blown gently across skin. It was a force beyond her control. It raged between them both as he found peace and release in her suffering, the whiteness of her skin eternal against the dark silk of her hair. She suffered willingly for him taking it all and swallowing moan after moan biting deeply into her own skin to remain subject to his will. The pain was a dark colored sweetness as if it grew near the sea and dripped from trees that didn’t have a name. He cupped it in his hand and she lapped it up and swallowed mouthful after mouthful pleasing him so that he was perfect in his usage of her, perfect in his dominance.

With a shift of an eye his touch softened and curled around her slim neck feeling her pulse slam against his hand. The rhythm reminded him of everything smooth and flowing and he leapt into the river that shared her name to keep up with her flow. She startled and looked up at him. Her eyes bright, dilated wide with passion and wonder spoke to him and he knew she was lost to herself, deep within herself and was even now playing along the edge of falling completely into him. He was like an apparition to her. Serene, God-like and all consuming he cradled his hands against the ebb and flow of rising skin beneath them and struggled to control how tightly they curled around her throat. He released her and heard himself moan into her motionless silence that would have eagerly welcomed his touch. Like a child she sought his hands and pulled them against her again for everything he offered her from within their hardness she pulled into her own trembling body and made it her own. Her body was fluid, undefined and looked new to him; an unfolded frightened flower that opened with a touch from him, a word. She urged him with every move, every breath, every strange luminous light that was cast from her eyes she tempted him. His violent superconciousness of her form half beneath him forced all of his senses to tune into her. He was a million hands against her flesh, rows of teeth opening and tasting the sweetness that would have been foreign and strange to anyone else but him. It was his to take and she offered him everything that was soft and silken and placed it before him to devour. He opened her and led her to the edge of a sweat and tear slickened pier and pulled her in and then beneath the darkened water so that the only air was from his mouth and the only release was from his hand. She was a fish and swam along side him eyes keen, alert now and unblinking and when she swam slightly ahead he was forced to slow her, catching her like a falling twilight and protecting her from the worst in himself. In the water with her dancing and slipping fluidly against him he almost lost the thin coiled ribbon of control that held him from drifting away from the sane, from the anchored line protecting them both from what he was capable of doing.

Even in the unnatural darkness of the room she could see him distinctly and felt his hands above her, always above her, on her, inside her urging and taking and leaving nothing for her to fight him with. He could touch her blindly and know her, he hurt her and broke her and left pieces of himself stuck within her skin so that he would truly never leave her. He drew a ragged breath slicing through the slate blue silence that encircled them. He pulled her away from his body to look at her face, white and open with bruised lips and dark eyes. Here he could hide the darkened smudges his fingers had painted on her fresh flesh and the streaked tears of release and pain that flowed from the melted snow within her eyes. Her skin was translucent and he slowed his own heart as her pulse steadied into a familiar cadence of peace colored submission that cooled her skin and made her cling to him so that she was him and he was her. He was filled with tenderness for her and stopped struggling with the urge to pull her inside of himself. She was there solidly beneath his body and within his heart. He knew she would sleep and he kissed her face, her eyes, her open mouth. He moved her beneath his arm and cradled her head against his heart. Her eyes still glowed with unshed tears yet the spirit floating within was undimmed, primal and timeless and he found himself wishing that she not blink. Yet she blinked once, twice and with a settled sigh she was gone. She slept in him and on him and when he breathed she breathed, when he stirred she stirred. He soothed her for in doing so he soothed himself, he quieted the demon she aroused and then tamed in him.

His voice was a far away rumbled thunder that drifted down to her like music from a deserted church or a song hummed through the lips of a content child. It comforted her in her sleep and was a reminder of his power and with the vibrating truth of his words it nurtured the need in her to be powerless, to float, to burn quietly in the lingering cooling pain that he had poured across her body. It was as if his words although spoken aloud didn’t need to be, their need was a bridge between them allowing no running ahead or hesitating at the edge. A full immersion, a full crossing over; that was what he demanded of her, that is what she gave him. Nothing less was deserved, nothing more needed.

The darkness wrapped tightly around her and cradled her against him. Cradled them both and rocked them gently to the place where there was not another soul. Lights dimmed and the world hushed and outside the walls cushioning their pleasure in and with each other nothing mattered. And with the dimming light came an absolution that it was good.

S/M

opened

 

Samantha: I have to ask you a question. It’s a good one so think about it. If two people love each other, but they just can’t seem to get it together, when do you get to that point of enough is enough?
Jerry: Never.

-The Mexican

 

 

Tonight I feel opened up.

Torn open somehow…and so much of the contents of myself are spread around. I can see them and touch them but I can’t seem to pick them all up and put them back where they belong. I am sitting here right now playing in them…feeling ashamed of some of them and ignoring others. I am resisting the urge to dwell here for the rest of the night.

Tonight was…wow, well it was really something. My evening with Richard. I’ve quit worrying that he is going to stop taking from me what he needs. I feared he would be afraid to hurt me, to take me, to make me and keep me his for all the reasons we both have. Tonight….we spared nothing. Tonight was different and good.

Intense is not the word. I’m not ready to describe it, I can’t. And I say I can’t because it still feels too intimate, too raw. Like I said, I am opened up right now and can’t quite figure out how to close myself back. I was determined tonight to feel everything..to experience his every touch. All of it. So often when he hurts me I allow myself to sweetly drift away where I feel it all on the surface…to where the pain is rushed off someplace else…sub space it is often called.

I don’t want that anymore. Tonight I rejected it. I realized I needed to stop turning inward and I needed to start reaching out. I trust him enough now, maybe I always have. I realized I don’t want to miss one minute of interaction with him, one second, one word or even a breath. I want it all…I want to be able to recall it vividly. My reactions, his expressions…all that we do and say and give and take.

I did a good job of that tonight. Tonight. I was a good submissive to Richard. I’m not always. I think I believed that allowing myself to go away to sub space allowed him that extra level of sadistic pleasure. I realized tonight that we interact better if I stick around for the entire interaction. 🙂

So I did. I rejected the ‘let me detach myself from all of this’ feeling and I turned to him with my need. For all of my needs….there were moments when I was begging for pain…I needed it so badly. And then there were the moments when I needed to feel his breathing to remind me to breathe…and when I needed a soft touch to remind me I was ok. I learned what I really knew all along…that he would meet my need. He would be there for me and not take me over the edge without helping me back up. I learned that detachment isn’t such a safe place and the true intimate experience comes from giving back…by begging…or breathing or laughing together.

So- no detachment. No sub space….then why tonight when all is quiet in my own little world- you know, the one that has Richard ten minutes away from me yet knowing it might as well be miles and miles….why tonight do I feel so opened up and spilled out. I feel like I wasn’t closed back up the whole way.

He called me after we were both home and we were able to talk for almost an hour. As we were talking L TM’ed him….she was out with a friend and they invited him to come out and have a glass of wine with them. Why did this creep into my soul the way it did and spiral me into this dark place? He has often left me after our time together and met her someplace and when he didn’t go out he would just go home and it isn’t like I didn’t know she was there. So why tonight did I flinch? Was it just jealously …that I became acutely aware of how far away he truly was at that very second….and that I needed him so badly. It isn’t as if I want to deny her the comfort of her husband….I mean after all she had to think all night about Richard being with me. So it wasn’t about that. It was about my own mind….and feelings. My needs…and I don’t always pay a lot of attention to them.

It made me feel like he was able to just turn it all off…and act as if everything was normal, as if we hadn’t just experienced what we did. I told him that I continue to feel him…to feel the collar at my throat or the cane against my body long after we walk away from each other. I can’t imagine leaving him and going to meet Liam…or Jackson…or Boston. It just made me feel…well, it made me wish I had allowed myself the safety of the feeling detached. I am telling myself…the bad with the good. There is still more good. I just need it right after the other I guess…lol.

I need a slower decent into reality.

He told me tonight that after being with me he feels as if there is a shell around him, he feels hardened after leaving me. He struggles to make it home- not wanting to change head spaces so quickly. He said he feels me with him for days after seeing me. For days he can’t stomach L’s touch.  He refuses to speak about what we do when he goes home. I understand his need to close that off before going home. Though in the moments or hours afterwards (depending on our time) that I have him a person could not be more loving or nurturing. I have never felt more loved or more cherished that I have when being held by Richard. I realize it must be hard to close all that off and go home. He tries to act normal but it is hard.

I just feel like I am entirely left out of that equation. I don’t feel normal again. I don’t feel like all of what he opened up in me was closed. How do I do that? How do I enjoy all that we share and not let this dreadful consuming pain ruin it? I’ve been here before….it always goes away. I know that. But how…right now in the midst of it all what can make it feel better? Is it remembering our hours together earlier and all that we did…all that he said..all that we both felt. When we said to each other that noone could ever truly understand how we feel or what we give to each other. Or- is it forgetting? Is it coming home and acting like I am not Owned like he can act as if he isn’t an Owner. Do I make plans to meet another after serving him…? Would that bring me back to good, back to normal? Do I try to detach myself from all of the pleasure just to take away or at least avoid some of this throbbing pain I feel right now. Is this just classic sub drop?

I asked him to let me get off the phone with him tonight early. I was afraid my tears and emotional sort of submissive drop would ruin what we had shared. He knows me too well…he knows my voice and my sadness and tried his best to talk me through it. Eventually though he sent me on to bed and he is calling here to tuck me in pretty soon.

I welcome that. I need to sleep and I hope I can. I hope I can get to the place where I can take and give and take and give….and be the submissive that Richard has taught me to be without letting all the girl emotional stuff get in my way. How can you detach yourself from that?

Is it as simple as needing to see him again soon after so he can make sure I am all closed up. Do I ask to see him tomorrow..should I have to ask? Does he even understand this feeling or what it takes from me to do what I do…? I don’t know. Is it as simple as planning time to allow he and I to be normal together after spending hours with him as the sadist and me as a masochist. I think I need that, I know I need that. I think that I need to require that. Can I make a demand like that…can I say to my Owner….If this is going to work for me….if you want me to feel safe enough to give you what I gave you tonight I need to be left all closed up. Can I ask that….expect that….hope for that? Can I demand that he give me that much time? And if not can I find the courage to not put myself through another downward spiral like tonight? I am Owned by him…his submissive..and I adore him. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for him.

Yet…do I the right to say what I need if my need is more of his time….if my need changes the ‘rules’ or makes it harder for him at home? Is that fair? Is it fair not to ask? And isn’t it not asking…not expecting and not getting what I need that always loops us back around to the end of the circle where we face the bad outweighing the good? So do I not owe Richard and myself the truth…and if the truth is being more clear with my needs….isn’t that a good thing?

I’m not blaming him. We said goodbye tonight with a smile and a kiss…neither of us wanting to leave. Both of us reveling in what we had just felt. It was me who had to get home tonight early.

Yet…he was somehow able to close it all up.

I can’t do that all alone.

 

S/M

to pixiepie

pixie has asked me to say something about all this.  As she has said, I am out of the country for another week.  We have talked several times.  We exchange email.  We are both sad and confused.  I was trying to give her the freedom to find the person who CAN give her all she deserves.  We both know I can’t, as hard as I try and as much as I want to.  So I tried to make room for that person.  As I said to her, I suck up all of her life and fill it all up so there is no room for anyone else.  And so I tried to make space.
It is obvious that even when I am not there, I am there….

It is perhaps less obvious that I am not doing this because I think it is good for me.  I have told her again and again that if I want to be selfish, I would keep her and to hell with anyone else.

So we talk, and we worry around it, and we wonder where we are going.  It seems possible to me that I can never really release pixie, any more than she can walk away from me.  It may be that one of us will have to die to come unglued from the other.  It may be that separation is something that will have to happen to us, rather than be decided by us.  For whatever decisions I have made, we are still stuck together.  All my words have not changed much, just made us both sad.  And this post is sad.  There was no joy in this post.

pixie and I need to talk face to face, which is another week away.  In the meantime, please know I have not “abandoned” her and have no intention of just walking out of her life.  What role I will play in the future is something we will have to talk about.  I know she needs me – I know I will be there for her.  But none of that answers the question of whether my owning her is good for her in the long run, or bad for her.  That is a harder question.  I keep thinking it is not good for her in the long run. I read this post and speak to her and can see that maybe she disagrees with me on what is in her best interest.

I am the one who has to deal with the “snapshots” of pixie telling me that the bad outweighs the good, that we both know that I can’t give her what she needs, that the pain of seeing me for a few hours a week, and then having me leave town for three weeks, is more than she can deal with.  That is the reality of it, and that is what I have responsibility for.  And guilt for, just by the way – knowing that my presence in her life, for all the good it may bring, prevents her from ever finding the person who CAN give it all to her.  So I’m just trying to find what is best for her.

I miss her terribly.  If all I thought of was what I wanted and needed, I would not release her, and would take her back this instant.  We have agreed, I think, (I think??? haven’t we pixie?) to think about this until I am back and we can speak, at length, face to face, and decide what to do next.  I know I am totally conflicted – that what I want and need may be completely inconsistent with her best interests.  In the long run.  And in the short run, I am here to help her through all this.

So I am rambling – tired, confused, too far away – and doesn’t that tell you something???  I am too far away.  I know it.  And not owning her is just crushing my spirit.  I’ll try to be more coherent the next time. Not being with her is killing me.

love you, pixie.  you know I do.

R
S/M

thoughts for ‘this’ today of mine

“Everyone wants to live on top of the mountain, but all the happiness and growth occurs while you’re climbing it.”

He whispered into my skin; his breath adding to the dampness on the back of my neck…he whispered that he loved me, he whispered that I was his, that he needed me, and that he would take from me what he needed. His hand flowed down my back, a finger against my spine making me desperate for something more. A bite on my shoulder caused me to moan and another on my neck carried me over into that place of longing where my body is literally aching to be touched, to be used, to be hurt by him.

I was tied to the cross, my calves aching from being up on my toes, my arms trembling from being tied above my head. He stood behind me and teased my body, played with me as if I was just a toy and perhaps at that moment I truly was…as I often am, that is what I was. Toys are usually quiet and still unless they are touched and played with. I was being played with. He had the cane in his hand and he ran the point of it along the back of my legs. I shivered. I felt it again along my sides…a teasing touch along my rib cage causing me to suck in my breath. His gentleness startles me sometimes as much as his cruelty. Both are carnal and natural and real. Both are uniquely him and I get lost in it. I respond to both and they play into each other to the point of one being unable to exist without the other. When he is gentle it never wanders too far from my mind that it can turn hard in a heartbeat. A touch can become a hard pinch, a kiss can grow teeth. It is a consuming experience every time he touches me.

I am a fortunate submissive. I think of people who would question my lifestyle and I realize they have their own ideas of what is erotic, of what is consuming to them and their ideas do not have to match my own. I know that some people look forever to find the physical connection with someone that I have experienced with Richard. I remember thinking to myself a long time ago…lost perhaps in an adolescent fantasy of finding the man who could do all the wicked things to my body that my mind had somehow conjured up. In my mind I was the only one thinking such things…and wasn’t I a horrible person to have this dark longing to be beaten, to be collared, to perhaps even be a slave? Such thoughts crept into my mind as far back as I can remember. I teetered on feeling ashamed of what my mind produced and being titillatingly intrigued that my mind had this darker side.

Then came Mark. A dark knight of a man who taught me all I was feeling was alright. It was good….and he taught me to submit and to respect what my body yearned to give. The surrender of pain and the desire of belonging to someone and trusting so completely you would do anything for him. He taught me to love my submission and he taught me that even when he wasn’t going to be the man who took it from me it would still be good. He showed me what it meant o be loved and cherished for what I hid from everyone else. I have carried that feeling with me…I can pull it out and use it even now when I need to just as I imagine one day when Richard is just an archive to my readers I can pull lessons learned from him and apply them to my life.

Like I said, I am a fortunate submissive. I have known the love and the dark desire of two men who I will be forever grateful for the gifts they provided me. I spent a lot of time this morning reading my archives and the comments that followed. I was surprised at how melancholy I ended up feeling. It made me think of Mark and how we messed that up…but more than that it made me miss who I was when I first started seeing him again, back when I had no negative feelings associated with my submission. Innocent in a way…and part of me mourns that. It also made me realize that something Mark had told me was right. When he and I decided to end it he said it was important for him to know that one day when I looked back at our times together I would smile. I would only smile and not feel sad for the loss of what it is that was so undeniable between us but just smile that we had it….that we touched it and loved it for as long as we possibly could. I’m there. I realized today that the only sadness I feel regarding him now is knowing I disappointed him by some of my choices, I let him down. I have forgiven myself for that now even if he never will. And that’s ok too…because I’ve forgiven him. For everything.

It is a good feeling, freeing and light. I like that. I like knowing that is possible. It helps me as I prepare to move forward into my life, it will help me when it is time for me to look back on the time I shared with Richard and smile. I know that time is coming one day, hopefully later rather than sooner but we never know. There is a great big plan out there for my life somewhere….that is exciting to me. There is a man out there that I haven’t even met whose life will one day be so intertwined with my own there is no clear path between them. It is a powerful feeling that loving and losing love can make one stronger. It isn’t really just a cliché after all, is it? I am a stronger person, a better person for having loved Mark. I am a better person, a stronger person for having loved Richard. It is circular I hope. I learn daily from Richard and the biggest lesson he has taught me is that it is love, not time, that heals all wounds.

I don’t know who wrote this but it is a quote I look to often….”Happiness lies for those who cry, those who hurt, those who have searched, and those who have tried for only they can appreciate the importance of people who have touched their lives.”

Mark told me once in my first few days with Richard that he would be cheering me on the sidelines as I walk down this new path into my submission….I thought of that sentence often over this past year and used it when things got hard. I know that Mark and Richard are a lot alike. One day it will be Richard letting me go and cheering me on. That makes me feel safe and loved and how can any of that be bad?

S/M

my protector

I can’t believe I forgot to remember to write about this. It was one of the several truly wonderful memories of our time at the beach together. We were getting ready for dinner. It was the evening that I had been left alone on the beach for the hour or so when Richard and Judy returned to the room. I was not in a good state of mind. I felt resentful and for the lack of a better word pouty. Not a good combination when you are in the company of a grumpy sleep deprived dominant. When he returned from the room he found me asleep under the umbrella on the beach trying to get out of the blaring sun and sand storm that had temporarily found its way to our paradise. He shook me gently and sweetly asked me if I was alright. I didn’t answer him. I just closed my eyes as my last attempt to keep him from seeing the hurt inside of them. He uncovered me and said we were going back to the room. It was lunch time and I think we were going shopping. He looked down at me and covered my shoulders with the towel.

“For the rest of the day you are NOT to leave my sight.” He said sternly. “I do not want you farther away from me than three feet for the rest of the day. Do you understand?” My first thought was shock. He acted as if I wandered away and had gotten lost. Then something inside me smiled a little because I knew what he was doing. It was his way of acknowledging that I felt alone and abandoned. I think it was also a message to L (and to me) that I did have a place with him and I did have a place with them that weekend. This was also the evening that I had suggested L and Richard go have dinner alone so I was thinking of that. Not too long after he told me that he meant ALL day and that I would not be left alone again. I wondered how that was going to go over?

Anyway so later that day we were on a patio with the ocean behind us and the pool to our right. L dozed on a lounge chair while Richard and I chatted. I was still feeling not quite right. I was just hurt. I knew Richard had lied to me and I was cold to him. He followed the three foot rule for most of the afternoon. We walked to the bar together a few times to retrieve Malibu and cokes for all of us. I think we were all pretty relaxed albeit pissed off (me). I was hot. I was bored after a while and asked to go back down to the beach. Maybe later he told me. I was so bored I ended up chatting with a really sweet Indian lady near the pool. L seemed content just to lump by the pool. I wanted to be in the surf, or on a boat or flying behind someone’s boat. Sometimes she is incredibly boring and Richard seems more sedate when she is around.

Richard was asleep. L was asleep and I was bored. I was hot. So I left him  there on his chair and walked down to the beach by myself. I swam in the cool blue water for about half an hour. It felt so amazing…I felt refreshed and just swam and swam and swam. I walked back up to the deck and they were still asleep. I just got more angry because I imagined if I had sex all morning I would need a nap too. But I hadn’t. So I flopped down beside him a little louder than I needed to. It jolted him awake and when he gave me that sweet sleepy smile I ALMOST felt guilty. But I didn’t.

“You alright?” He asked.

“I am just great…I went swimming.”

“In the pool?”

“No…I went to the beach. I swam in the ocean.” I tried to keep the sing song I did it even when you said I couldn’t little girl voice to a minimum. I realized that was the mood I was in. I was angry and resentful and so I acted out. I see it pretty clearly now..maybe I did even then.

He looked at me and said nothing for a few minutes.

“You went to the beach after I told you not to.”

“Oh…you meant that?” I said ” …are we going to start doing what we say from now on” (Oh..pixie well played.)

 

Again..he said nothing. A few minutes later L woke up and we all chatted for a few minutes. She asked me if I was having a good time and I told her that I was having a wonderful time, that I just got out of the sea. She said that was nice and asked me how the water was. I got pleasure in bragging to her that I had disobeyed Richard even though she didn’t know he had told me not to. I cut my eyes towards him and he gave me a smoldering glance and then suggested we all go get ready for dinner.

So we abandoned our chairs and walked together upstairs. Me..still pouty ( and this is where I contributed to the failure of the weekend. We dressed and showered and I was cold to Richard the entire time. A lot is said here about L being forced to deal with this situation. Well…no one forced her to join me in shower and that told me something.

Anyway…after the shower I was getting dressed and Richard was already ready. It takes L forever to get ready so after awhile it was just Richard and I together on the balcony overlooking the ocean. He was angry with me. I could see it on his face. I had blatantly disobeyed him and then rubbed his face in it. I felt it was justified because he had blatantly lied to me and then allowed me to feel humiliated because of it. I forgot that isn’t how Ownership worked…see like I said before I wasn’t feeling too good about my submission and my trust in my Owner had been badly bruised. So when I walked past him and he reached for me I couldn’t help but turn away. He pulled me into the bedroom and practically flung me to the bed. He yelled at me to clean my clothes up off the bed. Yes…he raised his voice to me. The first time. He didn’t wait for me to obey him or not. He was just angry and frustrated and he needed me to know it. I was angry too and confused as to why he was angry with me. I had been the one hurt that day. Left alone and ignored…and why..in the name of submission or selfishness? That is how I saw it. So when he pushed me back against the bed and told me to lift my skirt I straightened up and looked him right in the eye and said no.

At this point L walked into the room took one look at her husband and walked away. I crossed my arms and glared at him. “Now.” he said. His voice calm now but laced with a warning that I had never heard from him before. I was too angry, too indignant to realize how sexy he was at that very second…lol. But don’t tell him I said that.

I said no again. He stepped away.

“Is this how you see us? When you take away my ability to Dominate you, when you take away my expectation that you will obey me you are telling me you don’t need me, that you don’t want this.”

I remained quiet. My mind was screaming….yes and when you lie to me. When you ignore me and pretend my feeling mean nothing to you…when you make me feel horrible about what I am to you are telling me you don’t need me.

L walked back into the room. “Do you need me to leave you two alone for a minute?”

His eyes never left me. “Yes.”

“We have reservations at nine.” she said. His eyes never left me. “Uh..ok then..I will see you outside.”

She told me later she was afraid to leave me alone with him..lol, that she was afraid he was going to spank me and hurt me. Funny thing was…that is just what I wanted him to do. I wish that he had. When he told me to pull up my skirt and I said no…I wish he had smacked my face. I wish he had pushed me over and pulled my skirt up. To me that is what my old Dominant would have done…in my mind this Dominant was allowing L to define what it was he did and said to me. He let me down.

What I don’t think he realized right away was the effect his words had on me. He lectured me pretty severely and warned me to get and keep my head on straight. That he was counting on me to not make trouble. He pulled me against him and hugged me before we followed L outside. I had big tears in my eyes that I never let fall. I was quiet and subdued but mostly I was floaty and subbie and completely on the edges of subspace. I am not sure why..maybe his voice scared me, maybe his restrained anger reminded me of what he has done and he was capable of doing to me.

By the time we were at the restaurant I was barely able to think. L asked me if I was alright about three times. I heard R tell her I was fine. It was then I think he realized I wasn’t quite myself. The menu was in front of me and I had no idea what was on it. There was no way I could make a choice. They discussed wine and champagne and I just nodded. The bottle was ordered and my glass was filled and I hardly noticed. He ordered for me. It was a little funny I think looking back because in my head I was thinking just please nobody ask me to do anything or answer a question. I focused on Richard reassuring and understanding gaze across the table from me. I felt better. I realized he knew right where my mind was.

The food was delicious. The wine was amazing. They both know just what to order and it was perfect. What wasn’t perfect was the table behind us. And this is the part I can’t believe I forgot to write about. There was a table behind us of about 5 or 6. One man was incredibly obnoxious. We were in a slightly upscale restaurant and you don’t expect to see or hear some of what was coming out of this guys mouth. Their desert was served and he made the comment to the other guy that he needed to eat it because he could guarantee he had not had an orgasm like that since before he was married.

I though….OMG this guy is like five years old. I said as much to Richard and L and then turned around and glared at him. I am typically pretty tolerable of stupidity but today I was not in the mood. I was feeling like I needed a quiet space and he was being an ass. The table saw me glare at him and one of them must have told him to quiet down.

The words came to our table quite clearly He said. “She just needs fucked. Too bad she is out with her parents.”

We could not believe he said that. I was embarrassed. I almost said something but remembered my own manners. L and I chatted for a few minutes about what he had said. I noticed that my Owner was strangely quiet. He had a look on his face that I could almost recognize. It smoldered and drew me into him only it wasn’t for me. He was tense and his eyes never left the table behind me. A moment later when Mr. Loudmouth…let’s call him Mickey got up and walked to the restroom L and I were startled when Richard calmly laid his napkin aside and followed him.

It gets better. The two other men at the other table looked at each other and followed Richard.

L and I just looked at each other. I asked what he was doing and she said she didn’t know. We waited to hear the police siren or the ambulance. A few minutes later my Owner calmly walked back to our table. He reached over and patted my hand and told me not to look so worried. He laughed at my expression and told L he was fine. “What did you do?” L and I asked him at the same time. “Nothing…I just told him he owed pixie an apology for how he was acting and what he said about her.”

I didn’t know what to say. Did men really do that? Had he really just defended me?

I was still a little floaty and I think that always brings out R’s protective streak. He knew that I was vulnerable and that the man behind us was out of line. I was amazed when the loud man stopped at our table on the way back to his own. I had never felt more his. Richard told me later he spent the entire dinner just wanting to hold me.

“Excuse me. I wanted to apologize to you if my words or actions impeded on your evening at all. When the gentleman told me what I had said I didn’t remember. I didn’t think I had been so rude; my friends confirmed that I had in fact been insulting. I apologize.” He touched my hand and then reached over and shook Richard’s thanking him. Richard thanked him back and the man turned and sheepishly returned to his table. The restaurant was silent. Every mouth at his table was wide open.

L was amazed. I was proud…so proud that my Owner did the right thing. Chivalry is not dead.

I realized once again how important I am to him. What he thinks of me and how he needs me. That night I did cuddle against him. I knew he had forgiven me for my behavior. I whispered it to him as we were falling asleep. I told him I was sorry I had lost my place…that I loved him and needed his forgiveness. He said there was nothing to forgive. He said it was over, forgotten and I wouldn’t be punished for it. He said my hurt feelings punished him more than he was ever capable of punishing me. He told me later that he felt manipulated…pressured into spending time with L alone in the bedroom. 

I woke up to have his arm around me and feeling at peace for the moment in where we were knowing we had some holes to climb out of and not all together sure they wouldn’t backfill on us.

Tonight I am remembering that evening with a big grin. Amazed that I could go from feeling so un-owned to so entirely wrapped up in him and what we each give the other. I truly believe that with enough patience, respect and acknowledgment of the other’s needs (not to mention confidence in your own role) that this will work.

I am also still looking forward. This weekend I am taking a trip with my friend from GA.  He is flying me to Rehoboth Beach…Delaware I think. He is looking at a golf course there and asked me to go along. So we leave Friday and return Sunday.

I am just keeping busy and distracting myself. Yes, I like him. No, it isn’t love. I haven’t been intimate with him. It may never progress into anything like that. I know R feels conflicted about my dating. I know we both wonder if I am ready. I think I have to. I think I have to add people to my life who I can see anytime I want.

It will be good for me, good for all three of us.

S/M

kisses and truths


How did it happen that their lips came together? How does it happen that birds sing, that snow melts, that the rose unfolds, that the dawn whitens behind the stark shapes of trees on the quivering summit of the hill? A kiss, and all was said. ~Victor Hugo

We’ve all managed to keep our sense of humor. I don’t know how…maybe because we are all well aware of not only the shortness of life but how precious it truly is. Richard jokingly warned my readers that the worse part of the weekend had yet to be revealed. I was surprised he mentioned it at all since a lot of what I’ve written reflects poorly on him. He told me last night that he never promised me that he was perfect. He even reminded me that every time I would tell him he was in fact perfect he would remind me of the reasons why he was not.

He said he never asked to be placed on a pedestal. I disagreed. I told him he did that to himself every time he touched me, every time he made me kneel and look up at him, every time he made me beg…every time he held an orgasm just out of my reach until they could only ever be his. He only shook his head as if he didn’t quite know what to say. He held me a little closer and told me he loved me…he said he loved me from the first day he saw me. “I know.” I said even though I knew that wasn’t true. Truth was he tried very hard and for a long time not to love me.

L told me he had once told her that loving me and allowing me to love him was a mistake. She also told me that Richard had agreed to make a brave attempt at removing the emotional side of our relationship….to focus more on the D/s and less on the two way affection that flows between us. I knew even as she was speaking that wouldn’t happen. It hit me how much he had to hold back to pacify her…it made me wonder why he told her the truth at all? 

This was after she cornered me at the beach. After I was put in the position of lying to her and acknowledging Richard was still lying to her about me. In my mind and I tried to explain this to them both that lying about what we share goes against what we are trying to build. And like one reader said if Richard lies so easily to L what makes me think he wouldn’t lie to me as well? I felt nauseous.  I felt as if a lot of the pain was in vain when there were still secrets especially when the secrets were about me and what he gives me.

Until our beach trip unless I had the black and white indisputable evidence in front of me I would never think Richard capable of lying to me. One reason I need someone like Richard in my life is because he gives me an example of what to strive for…he is good and brave and kind and everything in between, And yes he is fallible but even the most fallible of men are driven to be honest by some goodness inside of them. Right? What is a Dominant if they don’t bring out the best in you…expect the best from you and show you their best. To me and correct me if I am way off that is a primary role of a Dominant.

Richard lied to me at the beach. Maybe he did it so I wouldn’t be hurt or maybe he did it so he wouldn’t have to justify breaking one of his rules..or maybe he thought if I knew the truth I would think him weak. It was decided before we went to the beach that we wouldn’t have any sex. None of us. Richard sincerely promised to leave his pants on. And while we all laughed at the time he said it we all knew we weren’t any where close to being ready for that. L may never be…I may never be.

So let me set the stage. It is the morning after Richard’s disappearance. I am feeling abandoned and sad. I was left outside on the balcony for close to an hour hearing little moaning noises compliments of L through the door. I was in a horrible state of mind. Early that morning Richard asked me if I wouldn’t mind giving him some time alone with L that morning. Apparently she was also in a horrible state of mind. And me being the submissive, the dispensable one, the strong one as R put it should understand that she needed some time with him. “Sure” I said. I was already numb so what did it matter? We ended up at the beach and I took my chair and towel and moved down the beach from them. I read and listened to my ipod…and people watched for almost an hour. I then took the longest walk on the beach EVER before coming back to my chair and sunbathing for another undetermined length of time. I avoided looking at them. I didn’t know what they were doing and by now I didn’t care. I think this is where I finally started to see the inevitability of me having to be the strong one and walking out of this relationship. Never before (or so I thought) had my feelings, had my mental health, my emotions been so disregarded. I felt …well, there are really no good words to explain how I felt. Lost and alone and forgotten are all a start. I started to resign myself. Prepare myself even subconsciously for what I knew I would have to do just to survive this relationship.

Richard walked to me and knelt by my chair. He said they were going to walk on the beach. I asked him if he was really leaving? I said I had left them alone…why were they now leaving? He said again they were going walking and he asked me where I would be. I said I guessed I would be here at the beach. I rolled over and watched the ocean and paralleled it to my feelings for Richard. I imagined myself as the coastline and Richard the water…I watched as it covered and flooded the coastline but always, always pulled away but also always taking a little of the coast out to sea. I thought of us like that. I realized how insignificant my feelings were to him compared to keeping L pacified and content. I felt like an outsider…and I suppose I was. I am.

The beach grew cold. The wind picked up and all I had was my suit…a damp towel and three empty beach chairs. I walked up to our rooms and my key wouldn’t work. My first thought was frustration because we were in this huge resort and it would have taken me a day to walk across to get my key fixed. So I resigned myself to going back to the beach to wait for L and Richard to come back. I tried my key one more time before turning to leave. A housekeeper asked me if I needed help. I told her my key wasn’t working.

“Oh honey.” she said “Your parents went inside awhile ago. They must have the latch on that is why your key won’t work.”

I don’t think I answered her. I just turned around and walked away. I realized what was going on behind the door. I realized what that meant. And what it took from me. I don’t remember ever in my life feeling the way I did at that moment. I can’t even describe it here. I can’t because I am not talented enough to find the words to express how I felt. I was lied to by RICHARD. I was left alone again. Everything in my mind changed. It won’t ever go back to how it was. This was more than the vacation from hell it was an eye opener for me.

The plan all along was this trip being an affirmation of my place in Richard’s life. I thought after L had her first meltdown all of that changed. I had no idea the weekend would truly be an affirmation of my place in Richard’s life. So I go on and try to find the place in my head that is not lying to me. I am looking for clarity and I am looking for the courage to let go. I thought I had found it. I thought I was strong enough to release him…to ask to be released. I told him the bad outweighs the good now. Maybe it did before this trip. I don’t know for sure.

I know that he hurt me in a way I would have never expected from Richard. And it is not so much as seeing him as fallible as it is me realizing that I was so wrong.

He told me later he didn’t want to be locked up in the room with her. He felt manipulated and he felt angry. I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t matter now. I’m not sure what matters. I know that all around me I feel myself gathering the courage to do what I know I need to do.

I told him and he quoted me in his post that… “this past weekend showed me a lot of things…. but one thing stands out in my mind… and that is when i need – i need you. and when i want – i want you…. and when i love… it’s you that i love. and until you tell me that is bad or wrong and or you don’t want it anymore that is what i will give you.”

And that is just what he is doing. He is telling me through his words, actions and inactions that this IS bad and it IS wrong and that he doesn’t want or need it or me anymore. He told me that when he sent me outside so he could be with L, he told me that when he left me alone on the windy beach, he told me that when he made me deal with the outcome of this trip alone. He told me it was wrong and bad when he refused to be my lifeline the night I wrote my ‘deck’ post and so many other nights where I cease to exist after 5 pm. 

I don’t know what to do from here. I don’t know how to feel or how to make the numbness go away. There is good here somewhere. Where is it? Where has it gone? I’ve never felt further away from my him, He held me afterwards and told me that he feels me slipping away.Please don’t slip away he whispered.

What? I’m not slipping away. I’m right here. I’m here. You are throwing me away, giving pieces of me (of us) away as if they mean nothing at all. You are allowing L to define what it is I need and what it is you give me…you are not who I thought you were. Are you? How can you change the rules after a year? My submission is what you’ve made it. You demand it ALL…you take it all and expect nothing short of complete submission beneath your hands. You have made me yours…as much through your kisses as through your cane. My silly love…how do you expect me to continue to submit to you without both on my skin?

‘Twas not my lips you kissed
But my soul’
~Judy Garland

S/M

letting pixie go

There is a lot swirling around us now. Surely the vacation-from-hell posts have made that clear. And several readers have posted comments noting, as I myself have noted, that pixie’s ups and downs have been quite visible for some time. One post is up, one post is down. And there was the time that pixie asked me to release her after an email from L – if my memory is working, I think the post was something like “Meeting L.” And my God, the angst we caused each other all last year, wondering if it was “time” for me to let her go. And many people have called for my impeachment, as it were. But because our pixie doesn’t tell all (she does have her secrets), I thought I would write a little about this.

The day after we all returned from the vacation disaster, I saw pixie over lunch. Yes, another “Give a Dom an Hour” experience. We met at the apartment. After a weekend of frustration, I quickly ordered pixie out of her clothes. A number of orgasms later, as she was on her back, knees up, I straddled her and teased her mouth with my cock. I finally let her have it and began to fuck her mouth. About 10 seconds later, she convulsed in another spontaneous, “no touching” orgasm. I looked at her in surprise and she said “what just happened?” And we both laughed. As I have said, easy orgasms. But I digress…..

Later she said something about wishing I had had intercourse with her. And later still, she said something about wishing we had been able to go to the beach together again. I said, “you are giving me a Richard ‘bucket list’ and I can’t stand to listen to it.” She laughed and denied it, but it didn’t feel very good. She really was giving me a bucket list

The next day (Wednesday) pixie left on a business trip and quickly started to come unglued. Thursday morning I awoke to find an email from pixie that said in part:

“I am scared of myself tonight. Scared that I am doing the wrong thing, even more scared that I am doing the right thing. In my mind your words are playing in my head…the words were you warned me that if I asked to be released you would not have the strength to deny me, you would not try to talk me out of it. You also said that you didn’t want to let me go, that you didn’t want me to say those words to you…….

I am not asking to be released. I am releasing you. With nothing but love in my heart for you and a treasured box of bittersweet tear dampened and sunshine dried memories…I release you. I wish you love and peace in your heart.”

So many text messages passed between us on Thursday and Friday, a few emails, some phone calls. Of course I tried to dissuade her. I even said in one text message “I do not accept your release of me.” In the end, I sent a response to her which ended:

“You may call me today if you wish. If not, I will call you next week to make sure…. yes, I want to give you every chance I can to change your mind about this before I start trying to dismantle what we have built. Don’t put me through this pain if you are not determined to see it through. There is much resignation in this email, I know – it is because you have tried so hard so many times…. I can’t stand in the way any longer. Just know that I stand by my words – I am not walking away from you. And I never would have, although I was never able to make you believe that.

“Oh the mad coupling of hope and force

in which we merged and despaired.”

with nothing but love and sadness,

R”

Because pixie did not have computer access, I described this email to her and she said “so you are giving me until Monday to change my mind.” We both laughed, through the pain, and I said yes, I wanted to leave the door open. Much to my despair, I did not hear a word from her all weekend.. By Sunday night, I was telling L that there was too much resolve in pixie’s voice, her words, that I wasn’t going to be able to change her mind. L and I spent the weekend with friends, and she knew I was doing a good job of hiding it all, but she knew the melancholy in my eyes.

On Monday, pixie and I talked – it was very tentative, especially at first. I was already trying to pull back emotionally. I am sure my voice sounded flat. There was a lot of resignation in my head. But we talked. And we chatted. And we talked some more. And she said that it wasn’t until the middle of the night on Sunday that she began to change her mind. We met Tuesday for lunch and just sat in her car and talked. There was one chat entry that I saved. It said:

“i think that the very idea of not being loved and owned by you…. because for me i cant separate the two anymore… breaks my heart. i don’t want to replace you. i don’t want anyone else to touch me or love me or even need me. i am yours. i know that. but i also know that it will never be more than what it is… and one day another will love me and touch me and need me. this past weekend showed me a lot of things…. but one thing stands out in my mind… and that is when i need – i need you. and when i want – i want you…. and when i love… it’s you that i love. and until you tell me that is bad or wrong and or you don’t want it anymore that is what i will give you.”

On some days, L can accept sharing her husband. On other days, it is very, very hard. On those days she wishes this would end, sooner rather than later. On some days it occurs to her, as it has to me, that this could last for years. And yet, because of love (and yes, it goes both ways) she can hang on and stay with me. On some days, pixie can accept that she shares me with a wife; she can write those words above and say “I know it will never be more that what it is.” And in spite of that, because of love (and yes, it goes both ways) she can hang on and love me and give me all that she does. Love is a cruel master.

All of this can change overnight. No one has agreed to go on forever, or for a week. Everyone except me is in for a day at a time. I am in for the long haul. I can only say, please don’t leave, I’m not leaving, I’m not giving either of you up; and then hope that both of them hang on tight. Selfish? Quite possible true. Is there pain? Of course there is. Will there be more? I’m afraid so. Should I let pixie go, or should she, having let me go, not have grabbed hold of me again? Who is to say? Each of us has an opinion on that, I am certain. pixie and I have given it more thought than the rest of the world combined. We are where we are – call it what you will.

I have tried to teach pixie some things about love- that it is not security, it is vulnerability; that it always involves some pain; that to avoid love to avoid the pain is to avoid life, the best part of life; that the pain we will know from our parting is a price I am willing to pay for the joy of knowing and loving and owning and using and dominating pixie; that the love you take is equal to the love you make (ok, I didn’t write that, but it is really good, don’t you think?). It is all wound up together, isn’t it? I can not separate the parts either.

After the long weekend that pixie has documented here, and all my foolishness (and not even all of it…) for all the world to see, I said to pixie that the three of us were on a whirling merry-go-round, perfectly balanced, and that if one of us tried to jump off they would (of course) be hurt terribly, but that the remaining spinning merry-go-round, now unbalanced, would spin and wobble and crash. We are connected in a way that cannot easily be undone without hurt to all of us – different ways, surely, but hurt to all of us. We have all begun to see that jumping off, or letting someone else jump off, is a difficult task. We are holding hands and spinning wildly on the beach until one of us lets go of one hand and we all fall down.

This week, neither pixie nor I nor L is letting go.

Thank you all for your really thoughtful comments, helpful even when they hurt. I especially thank those of you who have found a way to deliver insightful comments taking me or us to task but doing so in a way that is kind and decent. Criticism, delivered with good intentions and hope and support , are a gift we cherish. I know pixie agrees.

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

pink panties

““Don’t you know that you come with us wherever we go….you are in this little suitcase that is never too far away from Richard.”

My Owner sent me flowers this morning. A huge beautiful fairy tale bundle of flowers in a lovely vase adorned with a sheer pink ribbon. The card….a simple Thank You.

 

The simplicity of his words brought tears to my eyes. I was a little humbled that he was thanking me when the last 48 hours was full of all the things I should be thanking him for. When I think of this weekend I think of all the lessons learned. When I think this past weekend I think of smiles and tears and growth and a lot of love. What I learned about Richard, what I learned about myself and L and even what I learned about what makes us all human. Even Richard. (Yes…Richard is human…lol)

 

I spent the weekend with Richard and L. Friday I met them at a contemporary hotel in the city for our photo shoot. We were all so excited walking into the weekend. I of course was thrilled to be spending time with my Owner and learning more about my role with them as a couple. Of course at this point I wasn’t even sure if there was a role for me with them being a couple. I am secure in my role with Richard, as his submissive. And with L…the past few weeks we have worked to establish the fragile skeleton of a friendship between us. She is working to understand this entire thing. I think she gets it now more than ever what it means to be in this sort of relationship. I knew that this weekend would be a chance for L to see me being truly submissive to Richard.

 

It was agreed upon that there would be no sex between anyone so that was off the table. I was distressed a bit to realize that initially L was seeing the time together as her sharing Richard with me. I wanted to somehow have that converted in her mind to where it was Richard sharing me with her. I know how far off that is and I also know it may not happen but in my mind it would take the competition out between us that she puts between all of us. I didn’t want to go into this on an equal footing with her. It made me feel uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure how to take it….she is still learning about submission and dominance and ownership. I am still learning about her and how her knowing about Richard and I changes my role in his life and adds me to hers.

 

The photo shoot was fun. We laughed and talked a lot throughout. The pictures were not porn…they were tastefully erotic. We weren’t making out or touching each other…it was nothing like that. The photos were meant to be more of a documenting of the differences in our ages….the changes in our bodies etc. It was exciting and empowering and arousing. The pictures that Richard took Friday were wonderful. I love being photographed by him. I felt like I was performing for him. L was beautiful and I know she enjoyed herself too. It was playful and allowed us the opportunity to touch and be close with nothing fake in the way…we were simply two beautiful women being photographed by the man they both love and adore. There was a certain freedom in that. The freedom that really came without me having to hide how I felt about my Owner was an indescribable feeling. She has accepted my need of him and how he needs me.

 

After the shoot Richard made the announcement that we all needed to go to dinner. He didn’t feel as if we were ready for anything else…he didn’t think L was ready to witness him doing anything to me. We both argued with him a little. I think we were both at the point where we figured it would happen eventually and here we all were in this great room and we were all kind of mellow from the champagne. We should have obeyed Richard and trusted him. Friday night almost ruined the entire weekend. Lots of feeling surfaced on both sides and poor Richard…well I think he learned how difficult it is to take care of two emotionally needy and vulnerable women at one time. I remember at one point he said as he was stopping it…he said we both needed his full attention and he was unable to give it to either of us.

 

He spanked me in front of her. It wasn’t the spanking that bothered her as much as it was the affection he showed me. To me it was more of a demonstration at first but then he added some harder pain and a small taste of humiliation. It is hard to beg your Owner for something in front of his wife….but looking back it was pretty hot to repeat back to him that I was his cunt. I think she was more prepared for that and less for the tenderness he shows me throughout. The soft touches down my back and the kisses on my neck…stuff like that. And he toned it way down even. I am not sure how prepared for that she was. I know Richard told her that he was affectionate with me…that I needed that and he desired to give it to me but knowing it and seeing it is different. It really wasn’t a secret that he has strong feelings for me or that I ma obviously giving him something he needs. I know he has told her how he feels about me but seeing it in front of her still had to be hard. She and I had a conversation the day before on owning our own feelings. On being there willingly and not making Richard feel responsible or guilty if we were hurt or felt slighted. I don’t think she was capable of holding herself to that yet because she at one point directed a lot of anger at Richard. I will write more about Friday night later on. It just ended badly for all of us. Richard was forced to leave my side earlier than he ever would have and deal with what she needed and even then she felt as if what he was given her was being given to her because he felt obligated to give it. I know at one point I just wanted to point out to the two of them how they were obviously miscommunicating but I never did. I let them work it out on their own and by morning things seemed better. L and I prepared breakfast while Richard ventured out to get us all hot chocolate. We spent some time admiring our presents from Richard. He gave us both a beautiful pair of earrings so we would have something to remember from our first weekend together. The same gift yet so different….he knows us both so well and gave us both something that made us both so happy. He worried that he wouldn’t be able to tell me he loved me while we were with her so he told me whenever he touched his hair he was thinking of how much he loves me. He touched his hair a lot. 

 

L and I had the first of a series of really good conversations while he was gone. I realized that I was needed here and not just because I could give Richard something he needed. L needed to talk to me and I needed to hear all that she had to say. She listened to me too. And of course it all worked out for us…we are the only two people who can so perfectly understand each other. And I do really understand how she is feeling. I don’t like or agree with how she talks to Richard when I see him trying so hard to anticipate and met her needs. I am sensitive to that and I feel bad when I feel as if he is being disrespected. Still…she has a right to her feeling and for all that she is accepting I suppose Richard can tolerate a little crap from her right now. I think she knows that I truly care how she is feeling and that I want the two of them to be successful. I think she knows that. Oddly enough she wants Richard and me to be successful. She thanked me this weekend for what I do for him…what having me in his life has done for him and for them as a couple. She also said that she felt young again planning this weekend and she would do it all over. We validate each other and she recognized my relationship with Richard as something to be valued and respected. She told me how it made her feel to know Richard was thinking about what I needed even while he was with her. I told her how I felt to be placed into a highly submissive state and then left alone. She understood that. She talked about their upcoming vacation and I said that it would be good for them to get away for all this. She looked at me and said.. “Don’t you know that you come with us wherever we go….you are in this little suitcase that is never too far away from Richard.”

 

What do you say to that? I told her I was sorry. And she said for me to not be sorry that things were what they were and she understood why he and I need each other the way we do. She said I give him something he obviously needs and something she knows she never will give him. She said that I settle that part in him and he is happier for having me in his life.

 

Friday had some rocky moments. Saturday was mostly smiles and passion and laughs. I would relive Saturday a thousand times and only change things slightly. The best moment Saturday was after our showers…after Richard shampooed our hair and after he took dozens more pictures of us in towels and robes. L and I were feeling playful and sort of languid and the pictures were of us in white robes….towels on our heads in the rumpled king size bed. We were really having a good time and it somehow turned into this little…let’s taunt Richard with how hot we look. The pictures took a turn…nothing inappropriate. Just a bit more skin…a damp nipple here or there or a little cheek showing. Put that with her and me in bed together with an already frustrated Dominant man. He was literally groaning with every shot. It was great fun. 🙂

 

Finally he joined us on the bed and we sort of just lounged there. He was between us and there was way too much exposed skin for him not to let his fingers wander around. I turned on my stomach and L and I started to talk again. She had pink panties on beneath her robe and her skin looked so pretty against the fabric. I told her how pretty she looked and asked to take a picture of the fabric against her skin. I felt inspired and it hit me suddenly that she really needed some positive feedback from me. I tentatively began to touch her…just her neck and across her stomach and she wasn’t sure if she wanted it or not. All at once Richard reached over and asked to extend our stay one more night. It was such a funny moment…there we were an hour before our already late checkout and none of us wanted our time together to end.

 

It was still playful and fun and really all that comes next is a blur…ok not really a blur. I have seen it over and over in my head. We kept our promise that here was not going to be any sex between any of us. There were plenty of orgasms to go around. It was quite an experience and one that will come out in bits and pieces. Carefully and cautiously. I want to be respectful of the fact L is not aware of my blog and therefore she has not given her consent to be discussed here.

 

So there we were…learning and discovering together. It felt right and we all knew there was a risk one or all of us would walk away with regrets. We didn’t. A Friday photo shoot turned into a Sunday brunch….more amazing conversation and L and I found a new respect and admiration for each other. I realized she was able to add a dynamic to my life that would have been good for me even if there was no Richard. I know she struggles with liking me…in a way I struggle with liking her too. At first it was something I wanted to do to please Richard. I wanted to respect and befriend L to make this easier on him. Now I want to be close to her because it makes it easier on her.

 

After brunch and yet more champagne L and I asked Richard to leave us so we could talk some more. She has so much to say to me and just opens up…I do the same for her. And I found we talk quite openly about what we need and what we get from the same man. What a complex man he is….how is needs differ from me to her and how they all sort of circle around.

 

Finally we said goodbye. Late Sunday afternoon we said goodbye and they went their way and I went home. I was happy the entire way home. I started to feel the let down I expected after 48 hours of being submissive to Richard and all the experiences of the weekend. I missed them both. A lot…both of them. I pushed through the sadness and was almost feeling back to 100% happy when L called me. She called and invited me to meet them for dinner. I was shocked…are you sure I asked incredulous. After all she had not had Richard to herself all weekend other than the past few hours. Yes she said…we insist.

 

And so I did. I am so glad I did. I had more fun out with them at dinner than I remember having in a long time. We shared yet another bottle of really, really good wine and the conversation was fun and exciting and incredibly intoxicating.

 

Nothing is going to be the same now….and yet nothing has changed. I am still owned and loved by Richard. Tomorrow night is our time together just he and I. He is happier than he has ever been. He is very pleased with me. I am pleased with how this has turned out.

 

In my submissive head nothing is better than having my Owner pleased with me. Funny how having his wife pleased with me too ads to that mind set of being owned. In my mind it removed the competitive element and delivered me deeper into my Owners keeping. I can’t think of a better place to be. I am finding ways to carry that feeling with me even when he is not by my side and his hands are not on my body. There is such a sweet freedom in that for all of us I think. I want that because that is when I am truly owned.

S/M

clarity

I am overwhelmed by good feelings right now.  I am smiling, I am happy and all is right in the world of pixie and Richard. Somehow I have emerged unscathed. Yes..my Owner, I am still smiling tonight. 🙂

 

Today’s snapshot is bright, clear and full of hope and relief that everything is turning out as it should. I saw Richard last night and carried with me a skeptical heart. I had convinced myself somehow that things were different…I had allowed myself to let my trust in Richard slip. A submissive’s folly for sure.

 

He told me that he would take everything from me…that I would give him all he needed, all he expected and that he would leave me empty. And that together we would refill me and only good feelings would linger. I read those words again…and again. I fought the urge to melt into them and follow my instinct to be led, to trust. I knew he mishandled me last week, he knew that he did too. Even the best Dominants are entitled to a misstep every now and then….and I easily forgave him and was slightly in awe that he validated my feelings the way he did.

 

Richard knows me. He seems to be just intuitive enough to know what I need, what I can take and what I can’t. He also knows how to take me just past where I am comfortable going. I know that even as he takes from me what he needs he is ever mindful of my pleasure…of my desire to be taken, to feel pain, to submit. That is why he is not just my Dominant…that is why I am truly and fully Owned by this wonderful man who knows me so well.

 

Last night I beat Richard to the apartment. I showered and slipped naked beneath the warm quilt on the bed. I told him I was going to show up early and take a little nap. I love our apartment…I feel so at home in the cozy, small place that holds so many memories. It was really never my intention to fall asleep, I really didn’t mean to. I only wanted to lay quietly there and focus on the wall I had built around myself over the past few days..a few more bricks needed to be added. He would be there any minute and I could tell I wasn’t ready or strong enough or half prepared to even see him let alone submit to him.

 

I was so scared that I was going to fail him…that somehow I needed too much of him and that if I could just give him my body all would be alright. I had figured out all on my own that because emotionally Richard is in a good place with L that he didn’t need love from me. I decided to hold that part of myself from him. I also convinced myself that I was not going to let myself ‘feel’ enough to go away, to drift away into sub space. I didn’t want Richard to put me there and then feel obligated to nurture me back. I was confused and wounded…and so very, very wrong. There is a reason why I am submissive and Richard the Dominant…he reminded me of that last night. He taught me that it is up to him what he takes from me, what he needs from me, what I give to him. I tried to control it and to monitor it…deliberately holding that one piece of myself out of his reach and then once he finally reached it I struggled with allowing him to see where I was. I was determined to take all the pain for him and give no emotional response…to not allow my need for his tenderness and nurture to guide me. I tried to control what is not in my right to control….it isn’t even about rights. I tried to control what I gave to him over eight months ago and that is my submission.

 

He needs my love…he needs my submission now more than ever he said.  I almost ruined an amazing night by trying hard to hold back….to be a shell of what he has made me.

 

I knew it was going to be hard if not impossible to hold back from him right away. I woke up and there he was…beside me…gathering me in his arms and holding me close…kissing me and telling me how he loves me….marveling at my nakedness and stroking me gently with the same hands that hold a knife to my throat or draw blood from a cane. The tenderness and love that emanated from him pulled at my heart and I fought it off even as I allowed myself to be loved, to feel cherished.  He quickly showered and lay down by my side again pulling me against him. We talked…about our day… about L… about us…about how I was feeling. We talked about trust and how I needed to trust him to take care of me….or neither of us would get what we wanted. He sat up and pulled me up so I was sitting beside him. He knew part of me wasn’t there, a part of me that couldn’t be there for I had convinced myself there were pieces of me that he didn’t want.….I said that maybe he shouldn’t kiss me anymore. And he pressed me down in the covers and kissed me a million times on my lips and face…some hard and demanding others soft and gentle. I told him that maybe ‘this’ part is what is messing with my head…making me want and need more from him. ‘This’ meaning the soft touches of his fingers on my skin, his hand cupping my head or in my hair. As he ran his hands gently up and down my body lingering on his spot….the back of my neck…allowing a finger to rest gently on the curve of my back…I trembled beneath him. He whispered again that he took what he needed from me….it wasn’t my job to monitor it. He wanted all of me. I said that maybe I shouldn’t tell him I loved him…that he shouldn’t tell me. He whispered it in my ear. “I love you, you are a part of  me. This..”  he said pulling the blankets away and pressing me back down into the bed this time on my stomach, “completes what I am, who I am. I need you to do that.” He covered me with his body…the entire weight of him threatening to smother me and all I could think of was my feelings for him and how I would be doing him a favor by shifting my submission to something less complete.  I closed my eyes and absorbed it all…knowing that part of me still resisted, still shielded me from the pain. I wanted this to be perfect. I wanted to meet his needs and my own and interfere as little as possible in what L needs and deserves from Richard. Loving him and having him love me in return is the only part of what we have that L does not know, and maybe she doesn’t need to know. That isn’t my decision to make…only her not knowing makes it seem like something to hide. And I guess it is…and really what does that hurt? I wonder though if it is something he doesn’t need from me…but where would he and I be without it? I am certain that it is almost impossible to do what we do…and then on top of that be so much alike to not love each other. Someday I will figure all that out because it is a different sort of love, it is so different from how I have ever felt. It isn’t like the love I’ve had for anyone else in my life up until now.

 

I learned my lesson. Submission is just that…submitting. I tried to control what I gave up control of a long time ago. I know this post is vague and I apologize for that. I am figuring it all out…I only know that I have climbed over something. I am at a point of acceptance…a point of wonder that all of this has meshed together. It is working..it is going to work. I am amazed this is happening. Amazed that Richard successfully maneuvered a conference call between the three of us yesterday…and that L and I are exchanging emails…or that we are finding some humor in this situation. I also know she is curious about what we do…sop curious now she may want to observe. I still think that is a ways off…and I want to go slowly into that. I am encouraged her reaction has changed from…’you people are sick….lol’ to a curiosity surrounding what makes her husband who he is.

 

In my last post toy made a comment about becoming the supplement and not the substitute. I cried when I read that. Yes…I thought to myself…..that is the plateau I have been trying to reach and the word I was seeking to describe it. Thank you toy.

Thank you to all my readers and commenters….even those who say what is hard for me to read. In many ways it is your comments I need to hear the most.

 

What a journey….what a swift crossing, a leap from where this all could have ended on both/either side and now there is so much good ahead of us.

 

bdsm · belt · bondage · control · D/s · Richard · S/M · scary Richard · spanking

Lessons in submission

Sometimes it is easy being submissive.

Somedays it is even easy being Richard’s submissive. 😉

There really are two sides to it all. There is the floaty feeling of being nurtured and cared for, cherished and protected. That is the feeling that lingers for so long afterwards. It is the softer side of submission. I like this. I like knowing that I am giving Richard something noone else ever has..that noone else ever could. I thrive in his admiration of me, his love for me…his awe of what I can so unabashedly offer him. The softer side often comes after the pain, almost like the reward for taking it. Though for a masochist like me most of the time the pain is reward enough.

On the other hand there are times that submission means just taking pain. Just taking it, not questioning the whys of it all..just remembering my self designed role and why I am in his life. It is not questioning from where the pain comes from or what is the driving force behind it… it is allowing submission to take me someplace else. Where I am less of a sweet toy or a cherished pet and become more of a receptacle or an outlet for his own pain. It is hard to explain that. There have been times in my relationship with Richard where he just needed me to take pain for him. In many ways it seems as if he has had years of frustration inside of him. Sure he had the same submissive for 12 years before me but in my mind I have a theory that because he always describes his wife as so emotionally manipulative he must have a lot of frustration. Ex. pretends to be hurt or sick..or lost. Strange stuff like that- he doesn’t criticize her as much as tells me stories.

It is too simple to say he just needed to hurt me. The other afternoon was like that…it was the type of afternoon that prompted him whispering to me that he didn’t want a broken toy as I lay there trembling in his arms. It’s a paradox that I have talked about before. Sometimes he seems content to hold me and just kiss me…deep intimate kisses. 

Today I felt something off- We were talking. He was holding me. I had about decided that he wasn’t planning on doing much besides that. I took his quiet demeanor for just being somewhat relaxed. He had just returned to the country and some personal business of his had been completed. In some ways his life had just been simplified…in others things were just just started to turn.

My head was on his chest and his hand was stroking my back. I was still fully clothed as he was- see why I thought my owner was feeling somewhat relaxed? “I need you to get up and take off your skirt- only your skirt. Walk over there and get the paddle. Come back and lay exactly where you are right now.”

His orders were crisp and direct and I obeyed them immediately. I removed my skirt down to a pale pair of yellow panties…retrieved the paddle and walked back to the bed. I curled back up against his side and rested my head back on his chest. His heartbeat was faster, the only evidence of his interest in what he was doing. He seemed a little detached to me, and I am not accustomed to that from him. His dark eyes weren’t smiling…his expression was not soft or loving or any of the other little anchors I need as I enter in this sometimes dark ocean of being owned by a man as complex as Richard.

He started by rubbing the paddle against my panty clad bottom. This wasn’t just any paddle. It is large, round and thin, the kind children play with at the beach bouncing a ball back and forth. It is a stinging piece of wood that I regret introducing into our toy box. He started to hit me with the paddle…usually I would say spank me with the paddle, but this felt different somehow. He was hitting me hard with a stinging series of blows on each cheek.

I buried my head against his chest and breathed through the pain of the paddle. It was a pain that would have been impossible to take if I had been in any other position. Laying across his chest somehow helped. He was all around me. The beating of his heart blended with the smack of the paddle in my ears…his familiar scent in my nose and a bit of his shirt in my mouth as I tried to bite down on something to not cry out too much.

There was a feeling in the air around us. Like he was just pouring something into me and in my head I was awash in confusion and pain. I went back and forth. There were seconds of feeling resentful…like he was taking something out on me. Have you ever felt like that…like you just couldn’t touch what it was that made something a bitt off but you could feel it nonetheless?  It felt different. And knowing his life right now I knew what it was…I didn’t like that. Yet I know better than to question what it is I give to him on any given day. The fact I am privy to his emotions and sorrows, his joys and dreams is nothing less than a privilege for me and one that I know he can take away at anytime. He has let me inside him so I know, I can sense where he is when he hurts me.

Today he was lost somewhere inside himself and he used me to feel better. I could feel the pain of the paddle lessen his own. It is something that it so hard to capture, so impossible difficult and almost pointless to try and write about. I felt honored. 

As a submissive, as Richard’s submissive, what right do I have to question from where the pain he gives me comes from? What gives me the right to think that our interaction always has to revolve around mutual pleasure? In fact, haven’t I been lucky that for the most part he has given me so much pleasure, so much of the good side of submission? Not that he hasn’t consistently provided me with pain… we all know he has….but it was always with love, with the end goal being mutual satisfaction.

Like I said, this day was different. As the paddle continued to land on my bottom I whimpered into his chest…I whispered that it was enough, that I didn’t think I could continue. He tightened his grip on my and slipped my panties down to my knees. I threw my hands behind me and in the same detached voice he told me to move them…unless I wanted them hurt I needed to move them. I moved them of course…pulling them beneath me hoping I didn’t feel the need to cover myself. He rubbed his hands across my bottom telling me it was hot…and red and that he wasn’t finished with me yet. He told me to ask for more. I asked for more and clutched at him….tensing knowing it was going to be hard. It was. I imagined blisters and broken skin…forgetting the paddle rarely does that. At one point I begged him to please put the paddle away, to use the strap or the cane…just no more of the paddle. “Three more on each cheek” he said “They are going to be hard and fast. Ask me for them.”I took a deep breath swallowing a cry…..not wanting to beg him to stop when I knew what I was taking was what he needed from me on that day. Just like on some days when he sees me he needs to fuck me….or he needs me to suck his cock….today he needed to hurt me, really hurt me and I didn’t like how I was caught up in my head on the reason behind his mood. The reason shouldn’t matter to me. Meeting his needs…even his darker needs should be what matters. I asked him for more….not recognizing my voice.The final strokes were rocking. They bit into me like the cane never could. The paddle has such coverage. It is a deep and stinging pain all at once.

I thought that would be enough as I lay trembling beside him. Somehow he got up. Somehow he came back with the strap and he was bringing it down across my red bottom before I fully realized he was gone. I felt like he held nothing back, like he was intent on breaking something…if not me then something in himself. As he beat me his hand stroked my dripping cunt….he said I was soaking his pants and he told me to cum against his finger. I was already cumming…needing to release some of the energy that he had poured into me. The strap continued and he pressed into my back hard getting me into the perfect arched back position that he loves. I struggled, my knees trembled, I wanted to collapse but did not.

Finally…finally he dropped the strap. He laid his head on my back….and just breathed. He breathed. His face felt hot…damp against my skin and I stilled. We were like that for what seemed like a long,long  time…he at last pulled me close to him whispering a million things into my hair that I couldn’t hear…that I couldn’t understand. He had what looked like tears on his face and his eyes held an expression that I had really ever seen before. He kissed me on the lips. He put his forehead against my forehead and told me he loved me. “I love you, it’s more than loving you, it’s bigger than love.” he whispered.   We were both recovering and I am not sure who needed it most. His fingers again went down between my legs…pulling a hard orgasm out of me. “Please…” I whispered. “Please what pixie?” he asked. 

I didn’t know what I wanted. He said not to worry.. That I just needed to know he would take from me what he needed. That was the joy in being submissive…that I didn’t need to worry about what he needed or that I would somehow leave him unsatisfied…that he would take what he needed.

As if I hadn’t just learned that lesson.

bdsm · bondage · breath play · control · D/s · Liam · limits · over the knee · punishment · restraints · Richard · S/M · scary Richard · spanking

good girl……by Richard

pixie was damaged, and my job was to help her heal, help her get whole
again, reclaim the good feelings of being a submissive, being owned. We
were snuggled on the bed in the apartment, talking but not really. Just
stroking her hair, her face, curled into each other.

I knew I had to dominate her, and hurt her, to get her back on track, but
I also knew I had to move slowly. She wasn’t ready for serious pain. Her
submission felt tentative, cautious, fragile. I handled it with care.

It is remarkable to me how I relate to pixie. No matter how harshly I may
be treating her, no matter what terrible things I am saying to her, it is
always with love. Yet clearly there are times when I treat her more
gently, like a lover, and times when I treat her more roughly, as my cunt.
But there is always love behind it, and sometimes the dynamic shifts from
lover to cunt, and it can happen quickly or slowly, unpredictable. So
while I know there are times I am feeling very mellow, and treat her like
a gently bred desirable girl, I know that in her mind she is owned, and
she may have less realization of the differences than even I do – they so
blend together, and shift. But always with love….

In the past, I have often found that to be at my most demanding, most
Dominant, most sadistic self, I have had to step away emotionally from the
submissive, to create a little distance inside, to separate myself and
objectify the submissive.

 

So different with pixie…. For some reason I
am able to be more Dominant than I have ever been, more cruel, more
demanding, more sadistic, without ever creating space between us – only
drawing more closely into her, becoming as one with her in her pain,
absorbing the pleasure back out of her as I put the pain into her body.
Such an amazing thing – I don’t know why this works so well for us, and I
can’t explain it. I just know that she brings out the best of my
Dominance even as I get closer and closer to her emotionally, no space or
distance needed.

But tonight was not a night for my most sadistic self. Tonight she was my
little girl. My bad little girl. She needed a spanking.

I told her to get up from the bed and get across my knee. I began
spanking her through her jeans. She complained that it felt like a bad
girl spanking and that she hadn’t been bad. I told her that she was a
good girl for being a bad girl, and gave her several examples of
disobedience I had noticed. Nothing serious of course, just enough to
stop her from complaining that she hadn’t been bad. Stand up, I said, and
had her remove her jeans. Back down over my lap. Now the spanking
changed – it felt more like a good girl spanking. The spanks become
harder, and she felt them more without the protection of her jeans, but
after a few strokes, there was the pause as I massaged her beautiful ass
through her panties.

As we progressed, the panties came down to her knees, I had her remove her
sweater, I changed from a hand spanking to a paddle. I spent a lot of
time, a lot of time, taking care of my spot, that spot at the back of her
neck, that spot that Liam damaged. I touched her, stroked her, massaged
it, kissed it, loved it, brought it back to life, back to feeling under my
fingers. I made it mine again, and restored it to the magic place that it
was, the place where a soft touch brought immediate wetness to pixie’s
crotch.

I had pixie get on her knees between my legs, and unzip my pants. She
began to suck me, using just her lips and tongue, complaining of her sore
throat (yes, she has been sick so I allowed this excuse). I said “between
my feet is a piece of rope tied to the bed. Get it for me.” She handed
me the loose end of the rope. I looped it around and around her neck, and
left enough to go down her back and restrain her arms behind her back.
This is where we made the subtle shift from little girl to owned cunt. I
put my hand between her legs and put one finger on her clit. She was
dripping wet. I told her she could come anytime, but that I wanted her to
wait as long as she could. I was stroking her clit very gently, just
starting low and lightly dragging my finger up over her clit, so gently.
She likes it harder – it makes it easier for her to cum. But my plan was
to make her wait as long as she could. She lasted a few minutes and then
came SO hard, it was amazing. She just convulsed on my finger for a very
long time, and collapsed against me.

I think it was here that I stood up over her and had her lick my balls
until I was ready to cum. I told her to stick out her tongue, and I
deposited my cum onto her tongue. Then I rubbed my sticky cock all over
her face. Finally, I told her she could swallow my cum, that it would be
good for her sore throat. Of course, I made that up – I have no idea if
it was good or bad for her sore throat, but I love saying it and making
her swallow.

Then I forced her up from her knees so she was leaning over the bed. I
used the paddle on her again. At each stroke, she moved forward away from
the paddle, and in the process tightened up the rope until she was having
trouble breathing. I pushed her back onto her knees. Again I put my hand
between her legs and began pushing her to another orgasm. As her arms
tired and relaxed behind her, she tightened the rope around her neck. She
was slowly choking, she looked at me, she needed air, she forced out
“Richard, please….” I continued stroking her until she had another
amazing, huge orgasm. I quickly loosened the rope around her neck by
untying her hands to create slack. She gasped and collapsed onto my lap.
Later she said that if she had had a safeword she would have used it. She
also said that most people would have panicked and taken off the rope and
“ruined the whole thing.” 🙂

As I knelt on the floor in front of her, unwinding the rope from around
her neck, she rested her head on my legs, occassionally licking me,
touching me. Slowly she moved up from my lap to my chest, and finally to
my face and I kissed her. We got up on the bed and curled up together. I
knew that my submissive was back, not totally healed but on the road to
recovery. I had hurt her, I had used her, I had controlled her and her
orgasms, I had given her a taste of the dark side, even though we started
out as little girl.

As we kissed goodbye later that night to head to our separate homes, I
told her she had been a good girl that night. She had made so much
progress back, she had felt good about being submissive, being hurt, being
owned. She was such a good girl…..

bdsm · bondage · caning · D/s

Time To Stop

This weekend, when pixie and I were recovering from what can only be described as several sessions of pure debauchery, she had me read two posts on Mina blog http://longingsend.wordpress.com/  the first by Mina http://longingsend.wordpress.com/2007/10/14/what-just-happened/ and the other  by Amorphous, http://longingsend.wordpress.com/2007/10/16/when-is-ds-abuse/  I encourage you to go and read these posts.  They inspired an interesting conversation between pixie and me which I would like to recount here.

I should begin by telling you that pixie has been looking forward to our weekend with both excitement and nervousness.  I have been particularly dominant toward her recently, and I have given her some ideas about what I intended to do to her in her weekend as slave (“Upcoming Weekend”, posted October 16th).  She was nervous enough that, when she arrived, she asked if she could have a safe word.  I must admit, this was a big surprise to me (she has NEVER had a safe word), but I said “no,” and that was the end of the subject. 

Later, we were talking about the times when I seem to get outside myself, a different attitude comes over me.  Pixie says that sometimes it is for an entire session, sometimes it just appears for a second, but it is a level of intensity that just appears, and is visible to her.  I recognize that this happens.  I recognize it when I am pushing pixie’s limits, when I reach a spot where I am almost removed from myself, watching myself from right nearby, when I am at the point where I am delivering maximum pain to pixie.  It happened two or three times this weekend.  It has happened before, when I made pixie cry (“Cry” August 29), for example.

What I have also learned is that it is at this moment of delivering the most intense pain, that I go into that Dom Space zone I described here (Dom Space… September 9), and become so close to her, so loving and emotionally connected to her, that I want to meld myself into her.  The two seem to be inseparable.  I once spent a few sessions with a submissive who I was not close to, and I found I could give her pain and be almost indifferent about it, but I did not step outside myself, and I did not have that Dom Space feeling or the intense desire to just melt into the sub that I get with pixie.  When this Dom Space occurs, I can deliver the most savage strapping or caning and then lay my head down behind pixie’s head and just nuzzle her and want to become part of her, and then I can go back to savagely beating her.  And all the time, it is just …. oh….. inside my head, and I want to hurt her, actually see myself from outside, delivering the most intense pain, and at the same time, feeling so incredibly close to her, but not close enough, and trying to become part of her..being part of her like I’ve never been with anyone. We were one.

So mina noticed that something was different; Amorphous seemed to be a different person, like he was taking something out on her, like the beating he was giving her was beyond the normal.  She ends up asking, “what just happened?”  He ends up asking, “When is D/s abuse?”  This sounded so much like what I have experienced, and what pixie has seen in me.  I cannot relate these events to anything exterior – I wasn’t in a bad mood, there wasn’t anything I was angry about, there was no hint of wanting to punish pixie for something.  I just reached a point where I was a bit outside myself, and became the perfect Dom, taking what I needed, taking it ALL, taking it beyond pixie’s ability to endure it (but for the restraints she is wearing), making her beg me to stop and not stopping.  And at the same time, needing to become a part of her.

In my view, the answers to mina’s and Amorphous’ questions are: first, what just happened is that the two of them experienced a new level of dominance and submission, and new level of intensity, and it was kind of scary.  And second, that D/s is not abuse, for all the reasons Amorphous talked about.  The only people who think it is are those that are not into the scene and don’t get it, and never will.  (It is laughable that the commentor that Amorphous worried about actually said “I fail to see the pleasure here for anyone…you or him.”  Duh, you don’t get it).  What happened between them should not be viewed negatively, Amorphous should not beat himself up over it, and mina should not attribute it to him taking something out on her.  The Dom comes to the sub with whatever is in him at the time, and he takes what he needs, and the sub gives all she can, and sometimes the intensity level can spike up without any visible reason, and those times should be viewed as opportunities to raise the intensity level on both sides.  As pixie and I know, the more submissive she is, the more Dominant I become, and vice-versa, and as I have described here, the more intense I become in delivering pain, the more intense I become in connecting emotionally to her and nurturing her through it.  It is more intense for both of us,  both physically and emotionally.  And isn’t that what it is all about?   We come out of these experiences so much more emotionally connected, it is hard to describe.  It is all built on good judgment, trust, and love.

Pixie and I also talked about the risk, the risk that the “outside myself” part may take over.  I told her that on the one hand, I didn’t see that happening – I have always been aware of what is happening, and have always known enough to stop – pushed the limits but ultimately stopped.  But I said, on the other hand, one could argue that the “outside myself” part had already taken over – it pushed me to ignore pixie’s pleas, it caused me to pass her physical limits, it caused me to make her cry.  And perhaps it was only later that I got it back under control.  So today when it happened…. well, let me set the stage.  Near the end of a very intense couple of days, I had pixie on the bed face down with her butt in the air (The Position).  She had a thick black rope around her neck which was tied to the bed.  Her arms were bound behind her but she was otherwise unrestrained.  I was caning her, and it was hurting a lot, and I was showing no mercy, and she was struggling to get on top of the pain.  She was not holding The Position.  At one point, I just stepped away and stood nearby as she laid on her side.  Finally, she looked at me waiting for her, and she got back into The Position.  I talked to her, and told her that I knew I was asking a lot but that I needed her to stay in place, even without restraints. After that, she got into a superb subspace zone, and the cane strokes continued.  I switched to the whippy thing that had made her cry, and used it viciously for another 5 minutes.  Through it all she barely moved, until she rolled to her side and said, Richard, I need a minute.  I laid down with her and whispered to her and held her.  After a minute she got back into Position without my asking.  I told her “just a few more, count them for me.”  At three, she collapsed again onto her side, and I told her I was done, it was over, and I held her for probably 30 minutes as she came slowly out of subspace.

When we talked about all of this, I told her that I knew I was in that Dom Space zone, outside myself, capable of extreme brutality.  And I gave myself (Mr. Outside Myself) a limit.  I told her “a few more” and in my head set myself a limit of five.  She gave out at three and I ended it.  We recognized that it was a technique I had used to stop the “outside myself” part from getting carried away.  I knew I wanted to go on without end.  I knew that she was in a super subspace zone herself, and would have taken anything I had given her.  I knew it was time to stop.

No guilt, no regrets, no worries about it being abuse – from either of us.  I hope that mina and Amorphous can get there too and wish them the best.

spanking

A day in the life of a slave pt 1

 

This weekend was my first experience as a slave, as Richard’s slave. I survived..actually I survived better than he did. He is exhausted. Being a Master is so hard……..

Actually our weekend is still going. I am sitting here at his table with his cat begging to jump up on my lap. He has the fattest cat in the whole world. He is getting ready to make us breakfast. Not the cat -he doesn’t cook. Richard is going to make us breakfast.

I am tied to the chair. I have been tied to something since I walked through his door Friday night. The bed both nights, the refrigerator door yesterday as he made dinner…today the chair. Mostly the bed. I wasn’t sure how I would react to being tied to something all weekend. I have felt restricted, extra submissive and overall somewhat objectified. It also made me feel cared for and safe. Like a favorite pet. Plus Richard is extremely affectionate. He is nurturing and gentle except for when he is brutal and sadistic. The combination of the parts that make him whole are everything that I need to submit to him fully. I think about some of the things he has done to me, even in the past 48 hours and am amazed that I am sitting here happy as can be in his sunny kitchen.

The weekend got a late start and I didn’t get to his house until later Friday night. He walked me into his bedroom and pushed me back on the bed. I was wearing a new dress. It was pink and reminded me of  a man’s dress shirt. That was the style of the dress but it had a tie around the waist. Richard liked it. He pushed it up to reveal pink panties beneath and he decided right away he had to take my picture. I have mixed feelings about being photographed. I love being the focus of his artistic eye. I love being posed and i love how he plays with me as he photographs me.

Since the weekend for us is still on going I have to make this short. I will tell all as soon as I can. So much happened. From needles to suspension in his attic….and Max and Alex made an appearance this weekend too. I opened my care package from them for November and I finally got to see the contract. It is signed and now I am counting down the days.

Hope everyone had as wonderful of a weekend as I have had.

Max and Alex · November · pee fetish · piss slut · Richard · S/M · urophilia

# 4

as in every relationship the individuals involved must find what works for them. Richard goes away from time to time, he travels and sadly i can not always go with him. i lose track of things sometimes when he is gone. old doubts come back, i am less secure, less confident, less focused. we noticed this the first couple times he had to go away. he has made adjustments along the way that have really helped me. for example he hasn’t stayed away as long as he once would have, he calls me from out of the country a lot and he has made a point to make me feel a part of him when he is gone. one way he does this is by giving me small tasks or assignments to do while he is away. some are simple. some are new things that he in introducing me to, things that he is working on me with. part of my training i guess one could say. after i complete a task or an assignment he likes to have a report on it by noon the next day. his words to me:

 # 4 Tuesday:Do the assignment that you never completed.  No urination an hour before you leave work.  Drink a lot.  Go home and keep drinking.  Hold it until you are dancing around.  You need to be wearing a skirt and white panties.  When you absolutely cannot stand it, go outside in your yard and pee your pants.  Let it run down your legs.  Stay outside for at least 5 minutes after you have finished.  then go in and shower and change.

I want a daily report on the completion of the previous day’s assignment. I don’t want to have to ask for it, or wonder where it is.  I just want it to arrive before noon of the following day.This gives you something for everyday except two, one this week and one weekend day.  I figured the weekend would be lots of Liam, so I’m letting you off.  Anyday you need more, see number 4.

so i did as i was told and then folowed up to him via email my accounting of my task. he asked that i post it here for him.

___________________________________________________________

Dearest Richard,  sometimes even when you aren’t here you test my submission. yesterday you did just that. it was hard for me to wait until i got home to do what i needed to do, to do my assignment for the day. as you know i never leave my office on time. by the time i got home i really, really had to pee.

i sat in my car an extra minute really just enjoying the pressure that was building up in my body before i went inside to change into my white panties. i had already laid them out on my bed earlier that day. i started thinking as i sat there about bodily functions..peeing..orgasm control..etc. and realized how much having that controlled by you arouses me. we never really explored too much of that. i liked thinking about you wanting to control that. it did a lot for me. i liked the idea of this weekend when you said that you would watch me if i had to pee….for some reason with you that appeals to me though it never did before. as i write this i think about a part of my conversation with Max last night. he said that i will have no privacy when i am with him and and Alex. it thrilled me.

i got out of the car and went inside my house…letting my lucky puppy outside to pee. ignore the irony here please.

i needed to change my clothes because i wore pants to my office today. i slipped into a white summer skirt similar to the one you saw me in the first night we met and white cotton panties. i noticed again how uncomfortable i was yet how very aroused i was. my cheeks felt red and my nipples felt very hard. i was wet. i wanted to touch my nipples but didn’t.

i left my shoes off and went to find my new puppy who was running around outside. i walked around my yard with him for a few minutes and eventually put him back on his leash. i think i was really just building up the courage to do as you asked. it is different when you are there to praise me afterwards…to please you face to face. it is harder without that immediate influx of positive attention from you for my submission. i walked around a bit more thinking as i did once again about Max and Alex and being at the lower end of the leash when we visit in November. last night Max and i discussed some of his expectations of me while i am under their care. walking on a lead was one of them.

remember towards the front of my yard there is that little patch of trees? i stood there for a minute or two thinking about how powerful your ownership is for me, how good it makes me feel and really just how the entire dynamic of what we are exploring together has helped me to grow.  there was never a doubt this time in my mind that i would do this for you. around that time my neighbors car pulled in the driveway and she got out and motioned for me to come over. she had purchased my little puppy a treat and wanted to say hello. i groaned inwardly at the kindly old lady and practically limped over to her driveway. i was squeezing my cunt muscles together and it really really started to hurt.  as my neighbor talked to me she turned on her hose and began to fill up her bird bath.

again, ignore the irony.

i told her i had somethings to do before i needed to head out again, thanked her graciously for the puppy treat and walked away. i walked back over to my yard and stood quietly looking out a little into the woods around my home. i liked knowing i had little white panties on, for some reason they seemed more erotic to me at that point than the sexiest lingerie ever could. i relaxed. nothing. i relaxed a little more and noticed i was stepping from one foot to the next..i really had to go. again i thought about you and this control i so willingly hand over to you. i smiled. i liked knowing that you may even at this very moment be thinking about what i was doing. i felt a heat between my legs and after a second it spread into a wet warmth that streamed down both of my legs to the grass and dried leaves under me. i had a fleeting thought about the drought and how i was just doing my part to help the environment. i stood in my yard and peed my pants because my owner told me to…that is what i was thinking as i stood there and let it go. i felt young and naughty..lol. kinda like i was doing something secret. i was so turned on by what i had just done. it reminded me of the ocean that day when you made me do it.

i like this new part of my submission and i love the fact i was pleasing you while humiliating myself. my only regret was that you weren’t there to punish your bad little girl for peeing her pants. now THAT is hot. 🙂

control · D/s · Liam · limits · Max and Alex · November · pixies pictures · Richard · sensory deprivation · spanking · sub space

Upcoming weekend

I have quite a full weekend planned. Or maybe saying I have planned a weekend doesn’t quite make sense. My weekend has been planned for me. There is so much going on in the coming days I am unable to keep it to myself. First of all Richard comes home. We are staying the weekend together and I am so excited to see him again. We were talking today on the phone and were just sort of thinking out-loud together at where we are and how we are both feeling right now. He told me that he has never felt more Dominant or happy in his life. I certainly have never been or felt more submissive. It has been the constant attention from him, the daily acts of submission that he demands and the way he is able to take everything from me but give so much back. This weekend he has plans for me. It started late last week by him telling me that he had some ideas for when he returned. Since then he has given me a little more information. Scary information, wonderful hot plans for me. Today as I was chatting with Alex she used the word Anticipation and she is so right. I am needing him to come back.

He said that I am to try a new role this weekend. He said that I will be his slave. he said that I will be tied to his bed and used by him throughout the day. He says that at different intervals he will come into his room and cane me or use the strap or fuck me. He told me that there are limits he still has to find of mine. That he will beat me past my limits…he then told me I had no limits. He said that he will take me to his attic and suspend me from one of the beams. He said he will leave me hanging there while he enjoys my suffering. He says he is going to hurt me this weekend. I asked if he would let me up to eat and he told me that I could eat from a bowl. I asked him if I would be allowed to go to the bathroom and he said yes but he would watch. I asked if I could sleep in his bed with him and he said yes of course but I would remain tied to the bed. He said I would wear his cum to dinner Friday night so that he could see it and that I could smell it and know that it is there. After dinner we go to his house and my weekend of slavery starts. He says that at some point this weekend he will allow me to go into subspace though for the most part he wants me alert and responsive to the pain. I am craving the pain right now, longing to be held down by my owner and take what he wants to give me whatever it may be. My body responds to the very thought. I am wet just thinking about it.

Speaking of wet……..

This weekend I am meeting Max and Alex online to open my box. They sent me a package of items I am to bring with me when we meet next month. Richard will be there and like Alex said by the time they have me on web cam I should be in the perfect submissive state of mind. I wonder what is in my box? I wonder if they will let me play with anything before our visit. I wonder that if my box indeed holds a new toy or so will they want my owner to use something on me while they watch. I can hardly imagine what is in store for me at their hands. I am so excited. I like knowing that I am going to be able to share my submission with them. I like knowing that Saturday Max and Alex will have the chance to Dominate me while Richard is there to support me. I see my submitting to them as a chance to be better to Richard. I want to please them because in pleasing them I will please my owner. Plus I get aroused just talking to Max, chatting with them as they assert their Dominance over me. I have had less conversations with Max and that worries me because I know I am being asked to submit to him. As wonderful as I know he is I am afraid that he will be too unfamiliar to me compared to his wife. I am sure it will work out, I worry too much. Their first piece of advice to me was to trust them, to trust Richard. I am, I do. I am excited about being given this experience.

I also know that Richard plans on photographing me again this weekend. He has such fun capturing my submission. I hope he lets me post some pictures here? Would you like that? I never really know if posting pictures is appropriate or even wanted?

 

D/s · M. · Max and Alex · Ms. Anna · Richard · Richard and Ms. Anna · S/M · spanking

Explaining..better late than never. ;)

I was vague. I was protecting the innocent- and the not so innocent. I was writing on a need to know basis. I realize I left a lot to be desired by way of an explanation to everyone about the sudden shift several months ago. I have received more than a few emails and many comments asking me for more of an explanation regarding the sudden demise of pixie, Ms. Anna and Richard. I wonder if it is wise to even bring it all back up, i thought the curiosity would fade as the months pass but so far it hasn’t./ I think we must have presented an interesting dynamic- and one that I wish we could have maintained for longer than what we did.

The most recent one said this from  a lovely fellow blogger…you can read her here: http://labelladonna1.blogspot.com/. She asked…..

Darling- i would really like to know more about Ms. Anna, Mark, and how you came to meet Richard. The interpersonal dynamics of D/s fascinates me and since i’ve never been shared of in a polyamorous relationship i find your experiences compelling. Please tell me more about how you came into this- i hope you post it here but if you’d rather you can email me at my personal email.

Thank you,
elizabeth

I like this. I like knowing that through my story, through my own experiences I could possibly help other people learn more about D/s.

I think M and I knew we were winding down. It isn’t a secret that I was not his primary relationship yet what we had was real and rare and amazing- and nothing that I will ever be ashamed of. It was difficult to maintain and even harder to let go of. One of the things I valued about M was his apparent devotion to his primary relationship. I loved the fact that he had the capacity to love the way he did. I loved how he only spoke about her with devotion and love in his voice. I always knew where I stood with him and how much his real life partner was loved by him. It took nothing away from what he offered me and it made him safe to me. The funny thing was that I found myself several times wishing that their relationship was more open, that for his sake she was willing to offer all that he needed or that she was at least willing to allow him to have his needs met.  I admire couples that recognize that it is almost impossible for one single person to meet all of another persons needs. Take Alex and Max for example, they are secure enough in their love and their relationship to open the door to some wonderful amazing experiences. It is remarkable really. And I am not just saying that because their door is once again being opened to me…I truly admire people who are that confident with their partner. It is a selfless love to accept all of a person and not just what you deem normal or acceptable. I think that is the rarest love of all.

Anyway, M and I knew we were winding down. The best things in life aren’t meant to last they say and this proved true with he and I. At this point we weren’t prepared to end it- though he felt that he was holding me back in a way. That I could possibly miss an opportunity for something more substantial and tangible by serving him from a distance. So he brought Ms. Anna into my life. I loved her right away, funny and sweet and she had sparkling eyes that seemed mischievous and intelligent. I was given to her to discipline. Typing that now to me seems almost odd when I look at it from how M saw things. I have journeyed so far from where he left me. He felt I needed more discipline and structure in my life and that Ms. Anna could offer it to me so that when he saw me again my submission would be more complete. Why this is odd to me now is that he felt there should be no pleasure in it for me, it was discipline, it was punishment. Yet he knew that punishment from his hands whether for pleasure or strictly pain was almost always pleasure. I am a masochist, remember? https://pixiepie.wordpress.com/2007/05/24/from-m-2/ 

And so went my first session with Ms. Anna. https://pixiepie.wordpress.com/2007/05/20/ms-anna/  It left me yearning for something more than his voice on the other end of the phone. I needed more, Ms. Anna recognized that. M did too. Though I should note here that I kicked and screamed going into this relationship. I fought M about Ms. Anna, I fought him even more when he told me to meet Richard. 

Ms. Anna was Richard’s submissive. Their relationship spanned over 10 years in an on again off again sort of way. Both leading busy professional lives they made time for each other when they could. Richard held Ms. Anna in such a high regard I was overcome with the emotion between them when I first sat down with the two of them. He told me once that she truly made him a better person. I don’t think he loved her in a man/woman sort of way. Not like what we share of course it was something very different but no less special. They met a need in each other for a very long time and I felt honored to be a part of what they had.

Knowing that I needed more Ms. Anna asked M for permission to introduce me to Richard. It was not overnight that M said yes. I know that for awhile he was conflicted by the thought of putting another Dominant man in my life. It was many discussions between he and I and many conversations between M and Richard before it happened. I was to meet them for dinner and then I later found out that M had given permission for me to go back with them to witness a scene between Richard and Anna. Looking back now I see that Richard and Ms.Anna ending was inevitable. That night was the last time Ms. Anna submitted to Richard- it was also the first time I did. https://pixiepie.wordpress.com/2007/05/24/anna-and-richard-pt-1/

After that night it was the three of us. Ms. Anna and I never had sex. It wasn’t like that between us at all. I think if anything she felt almost maternal towards me. Yet she did stroke me into a mind blowing orgasm one time with her soft hand. that was nice. But it was never she and I submitting to Richard at the same time. She was in a Dominant role to me. I think that skewed the dynamic between the two of them. Maybe that is one reason it ended for them. Maybe Ms. Anna just ran out of time and energy to please such a demanding man and gave me to him so she could walk away. I wish I knew exactly why she was so willing to give a man she knew so well exactly what he needed and then wonder when he loved me. He told her once as it was ending…that she hadn’t just given him a toy, that she had given him the perfect submissive toy for him. Our needs clicked right away. Submitting to him was natural.

Having Richard in my life altered my relationship with M almost immediately. First of all it took a lot for him to forgive me for allowing Richard to touch me that night. Yet he eventually took responsibility for placing a highly submissive person with an older experienced Dominant. Still lines were crossed that shouldn’t have been crossed but that is neither here nor there. It is what it is and there are no regrets.

It went smoothly for several weeks. M and I decided to step away from each other. This was the hardest decision I had ever made and Richard was there for me through it all. We were seeing each other almost daily and my submission towards him grew and grew until the thoughts of any other Dominant, including Ms. Anna made little sense to me. He was all I needed.

Jealously is a brutal companion. Ms. Anna had asked me at dinner one night if it would bother me if she and Richard spent some time alone without me. My first instinct was…”what for?” I didn’t say that but I thought it, my jealous nature being swallowed though right away I thought…why would he need you, can’t you see the pleasure I am givng him? Yet I hated myself for those thoughts and kept them to myself until now. I wondered why they hadn’t spent time together without me. I had been out of town for a week at one point and they only met for dinner. I felt like what R and I were sharing took all the Dominance out of him. If there was a mistake made, that was one. Neither one of them made a point to feed that relationship. When you starve something it dies.

R and I were busy feeding each other. I was growing in my submission to him daily. It was written all over me. At dinner another evening with Ms. Anna she asked me, “You aren’t falling in love with him, are you?”

“Of course not!” I was adamant and may have even still meant it when I said it. She told me that she felt he loved me already and I laughed it off. She did too and said that I was good for him. It felt like she pushed me towards him in a lot of ways. She told me how to please him, taught me what he expected from a submissive. She helped make me into what he needed.

One night we all had plans to meet for shopping and dinner. She was already there when R and I walked in. As we slid into the seats across from her I noticed a wariness in her eyes. Through dinner her eyes never wandered far from my face. Maybe R shouldn’t have sat beside me, maybe he leaned down into my whispers too many times, or his hand touched me too often…maybe our conversation was to two sided. Ms. Anna saw something in us that night that the two of us had only just begun to realize. She told him that night that she realized when we walked in together that somehow when she wasn’t looking we had become a twosome- a couple. She didn’t want to see him anymore. At first they thought, ok- let’s just keep it separate. Richard tossed the idea around of keeping us both. Two separate relationships…he would Dom her. He would also be Dominant to me. I think it was as close to an ultimatum as I could have given him. I told him that I didn’t want to share him. That I would rather not come between he and Ms. Anna and that if she meant that much to him then he needed to let me go and give her all of his Dominance because she deserved that. I told him that I deserved that too and that I wouldn’t be one of two.

And so it ended. I think they are still friends on some distant level. I think a stray email passes between the two of them every blue moon. She blames me for the downfall of what they had. I take my share of responsibility. I regret that what once meant so much ended. Yet I know that I have given Richard everything he could possibly imagine. I think that if anything I am a better submissive to him because I know he lost something important to him in order to keep me. I know he takes responsibility for it too, that he hates hurting her and he hates that it ended in sadness and anger. I think that she must somehow feel responsible most of all. Not only did she put me in his life but she stepped back at the same time. She told me how to make him love me, how to please him and then grew angry when it worked. That is still a source of confusion for me.

I think that to sum it up it was destined from that very first night he touched me that I would be owned by him. He told me that was the night he started loving me…that my need for nurture touched him somehow. That wrapping me in a down quilt and holding me as I still trembled from the intensity of being flogged pulled me into his heart. I remember how I clung to him that night, how I have clung to him ever since. We feed each other and it has been an amazing journey. Again, no regrets. I am pleased, so pleased with how this has all turned out. My only regret is losing Ms. Anna, we left so much undone.

I hope this puts to rest the questions. I hope I have explained it. I think where Richard and I are now explains it better than I ever could.

bdsm · bondage · breast torture · breath play · caning · clothes pins · control · D/s · dating · focus · Liam · restraints · Richard · S/M · sub space

Back to you

Richard writes….

We are having some difficulty finding the right balance, the place where pixie feels secure in my Dominance, but not so overwhelmed by it that she cannot move forward. We had an incredible experience Sunday night (see https://pixiepie.wordpress.com/2007/09/24/richard/ )an expression of complete and total Dominance and submission, an almost violent reaffirmation of ownership. It was just what pixie needed at that moment. And the other day, her need came back with the statement that she was feeling all “jittery” at work and she asked me to say something to help clear her mind. When I did she said, “more…please say more.” That brought out the Dom in me, and for 5 minutes of online chatting, I brought her back into focus, and began telling her what I planned to do to her that night. But I feel conflicted sometimes – my Dominance can be so all encompassing, that it leaves no room for anything else. Is it leaving room for a new relationship to develop?

Pixie writes….. I told you I needed reassurance all of a sudden. Were you thinking of me? Was everything OK? Were we OK? I was having trouble making decisions, things weren’t clear in my mind. I hate that I feel needy sometimes in relationships that are the most secure in my life.  So sometimes I feel conflicted, I want to see Liam and yet I need so badly to see you. I decided to see you and not reassure Liam. I am not good at reassurance.Liam said sometimes I am too vague. I told you its true sometimes I am hard to get an answer from, I said it hurts sometimes to pull something concrete from my head when I am in sub mode. I was jittery, I wasn’t coping. You said….”take a deep breath and think about the fact that I own you and will use you tonight” and I said “please say something more, please make me feel it more” only I didn’t know what I wanted you to say only I needed something to calm me. You said…”listen, my little cunt – did you get my TM reminding you to be wearing a skirt when I arrive tonight?
Me- yes Sir
R- but you didn’t reply – left me wondering if you had gotten it
Me- sorry Sir…I was driving
R- you will be punished for that.
Me- oh? Yes Sir.

R- and you’ve been driving ever since? forgetful aren’t you?
Me- no Sir…well sometimes
R- Don’t forget to reply to your Master.
Me- I won’t Sir.
R- spread your legs
Me- yes Sir.R- wider
Me- oh
R- embarrass yourself by spreading them so wide
Me- yes..I did…I am
R- remember the pee running down your leg into the ocean –
Me- yes Sir
R- you probably have to pee right now, don’t you
Me- yes Sir
R- good. I’ll bet you are wet
Me- yes Sir I am…sorry Sir
R-almost like you have already peed .
Me- yes
R- don’t be sorry – you are wet for me. As it should be
I won’t punish you for being wet
Me- ok
R- I insist on it

And so it went on for a few more minutes until I was securely back in my place. The ambiguity of my situation was lost in the control that you holds over me. I needed to feel the heavy hand of your control and although I knew the evening would bring your hands to my flesh I needed  words to serve as the catalyst in getting me back to the point in my day where everything was alright.

Richard…..

I arrived at her house to find her wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt. It just covered her butt. As we talked, and munched on some chocolate chip cookies I had brought with me (we share a passion for chocolate chip cookies!), she variously sat on the floor, stretched out prone, and sat on a stool. Unlike her usual self, she was much less shy about offering me glimpses of her cunt, and at one point as she sat on the stool I made her spread her legs and give me a good look. I told her it was beautiful, but that word does not do it justice. Looking at her naked, especially when she is wearing something short that can be pulled up over her ass, just makes me say “oh.” You know, that kind of “oh” that means you are just speechless and hot and bothered. Sometimes just looking at her can bring on the start of “Dom Space.” She is perfect.  It makes me both love her more than ever and want to hurt her all at the same time. My eyes take her in, they take her, they own her, they begin the process of using her, they make it clear to her that I can do whatever I choose to do to her. I love her.

Pixie writes…..

Yes, I was less modest with you and I am not sure why my modesty with you comes and goes. Sometimes a quietness runs over my body so it feels like your eyes are as natural on my skin as your hands. Sometimes your eyes rage a silent war within myself to hide myself from the heat of your glance. Tonight I wanted your eyes on me. I loved the secret thrill of seeing you react to my nakedness. After all…submission doesn’t always leave a girl powerless. It feels odd having you in my house as I am so used to our apartment. You fill up my space. I like how you make me feel safe.

Richards turn…..

When we moved into her bedroom, I pushed her roughly down on the bed face down. I spread her cheeks and played with her for a minute or two. I moved to the other side of the bed and knelt on it in front of her and roughly used her mouth. At one point I gripped her throat to keep her from gagging and pushed in hard and deep. I love using her this way. It is a mental pleasure far more than a physical one.

Pixie writes……

I love having your cock in my mouth. Love it even more when you take my mouth hard. I wondered what you were doing to my throat….now I understand. It was easier to take you, I just thought you had decided to make me struggle for air. I try sometimes to look up at you while your cock is deep inside my mouth but find I become unnerved and can’t do it. I enjoy being taken like this. It makes me feel taken, violated and used.

Richard…….

Earlier in the day pixie had described a fantasy where she had clamps on her nipples which were attached to a chain going around her back, which I pulled on as I entered her from behind, so that with each thrust I would pull on the chain. So I attached clamps to her nipples, cruelly attached by pulling a chunk of breast behind the nipple into the clamp, and pulled them around behind her with a small piece of rope.

Pixie…..

Ok..Mr Smooth, let’s tell everyone how the second nipple clamp broke as you tried to put it on me. How I couldn’t help laughing at you…I enjoy these moments of intimacy between us. I liked how you laughed outloud even as I moaned at the pain of the first one and the frustration of waiting while you found a replacement. This was really very painful. I breathed very deeply as you came around behind and pulled the rope up close to my skin. I felt my nipples tighten and my cunt dripped with desire for you. I love when you hurt me. The rope felt rough on the smooth skin beneath my arms. I felt harnessed. I like being held in your grasp so mercilessly.

Richard………

I grabbed the lube, smeared some roughly on her hole, and pushed deep into her ass without any preliminary stretching. I knew I was hurting her, and I knew she wanted it. It was close to an ass rape. I felt overwhelmingly Dominant, in total control of a toy, a pet, a slave, that I owned and could use as I wished in whatever way I wished for my pleasure. And for me, what made it even better, is knowing that it was for her pleasure as well. As pixie has said, I am all about pleasure, not about punishment. With each thrust, I pulled on the rope attached to the clamps. As I urged her toward an orgasm, she said it hurt too much, she couldn’t cum. I told her she had to and I was going to pull off the clamps. She begged me not to, “no, don’t take them off,” she cried. She thinks I have learned to ignore her pleas for mercy, but the truth is I enjoy hearing her beg and then intentionally doing the opposite. What I mean is that ignoring her begging is not enough – it is even better to be aware of her begging, seek it solely for the sake of going beyond it, and then taking more from her in spite of her begging; taking even more because of her begging. As I pulled off a clamp I immediately grabbed her breast and massaged the nipple back to life, causing the pain to intensify. With each one she cried out, and then convulsed into an amazing orgasm.

Pixie…….

You really hurt me. I am used to you allowing me time to get used to your cock in my ass. I found that my mental submission when you took me like this was strong enough to cover up the pain, the fact you  ‘could’ do it made the pain easier to take. What strikes me as different about you that night was that you reaffirmed what I already knew. You can stop hearing my pain, you can ignore my begging and take me where only you know I need to go. What I also need to point out is that when I beg you to stop…. at that very moment I really want you to stop. It hurts and the pain is hot and tearing and at times I feel myself losing control. Somehow you just know when my begging is just really just a plea for a moment of gentleness. A moment of softness at your hand is all I need to make it alright. You give me this and it is a reminder of why I do it…why my need to please you is so strong.

Richard……….

It may be apparent to pixie’s readers that this encounter was not just a normal D/s scene to this point. It was cruel, and both of us were reveling in that cruelty; both of us knew this was different, both of us knew that we were welded together by the S/m state of our minds. And it wasn’t over by any means. I physically pushed her around on the bed. She was on her hands and knees, with her knees tucked all the way under her, curled up almost. No restraints. I began using the whippy thing on her back. (see “Cry”). It is a hard and cruel pain. It bites, it leaves marks, it ranges from stingy to biting, flesh-cutting intensity. And I laid it on her back for several minutes, varying the strokes from light sting to vicious snaps, some of which caused her to gasp and pull up her body, try to turn away from it. But no restraints. I did the same thing to her ass, then again on her back. I caused the strands to wrap around and snap her breasts. She was begging me to stop. Of course, I ignored that. Yes, I was in a cruel mood. I was asserting my ownership of her. I was using her to the maximum, pouring my pain into her and taking it back as pleasure. That is what sadists do, and thank God for masochists. 

At one point pixie went away, into deep subspace. Her breathing slowed and she began to be unresponsive to the snaps on her butt and back. I continued anyway, enjoying the fact that I could do anything to her, anything. After another minute or so, decided to bring her back, so I snapped the whip across her ass really hard, and she gasped and opened her eyes. She looked at me with an almost angry look, a look that said “too much.” I said, “Welcome back. You’ve been gone. I’m going to let you go away again.” I resumed the more moderate switching across her back and ass, keeping the level of intensity at a level that hurt enough to send her away but not so much that it snapped her back out of it. I love that I have learned so much about pixie’s reaction, and how she “goes away” into deep subspace, that I can now manipulate it. I recognize it instantly, and I can leave her there or bring her back, and now I know I can send her back as well. Such an amazing sense of power over her.

Pixie…….

I really want to add something here but can’t. You are so right Richard, I went away. I remember the vicious bite of the whip and I wondered how I could possibly take another stroke. You know this is the first time you have whipped me without feeling the need to restrain me. Have I come so far in my submission to you? I wonder if you think subspace is a cowardly place for my mind to wonder off to. I hope you know it is a sign of the trust I have in you, it is the ultimate vulnerable state.

Richard………

When I had enough of the whippy thing, and I do mean when I had had enough, I told pixie that I was going to fuck her, but first I was going to cover her lips with clothes pins so that it would hurt while I was doing it. It is truly enjoyable to a sadist to cause pain WHILE taking pleasure, in an act that is usually thought of as pleasureable. Pixie begged me not to do it. I roughly positioned her and began pumping her from behind. I told her to rub herself, and she said it hurt too much. I told her to do as she was told and with minutes, she was close, but again said she couldn’t cum, it hurt too much. I pushed her hand out of the way and brought her to an orgasm, and immediately began yanking clothespins off her. What an incredible feeling of control, power, pleasure all washed up in her agony and pleasure, which were one and the same, inseparable.

Pixie…………..

I am not sure what was the most erotic Richard? You forcing yourself inside of me as my cunt lips were covered with wooden pins or the way you told me to ‘do what I was told’. Your words mean so much to me when we are together. Rarely I am in such a state that I can’t cum, the pulling of the clothes pins and the pounding of your body into my much smaller one was almost unbearable.

Richard……….

Which brings me back to where I started. Clearly, this kind of assertion of ownership, total Domination, while very good for pixie in the short run, is becoming counter-productive in my efforts to push her toward Liam. We need to find a balance. We need to find the RIGHT balance, a place where her head is straight, and she is focused, and yet she has the space to move toward him without feeling lost, or like she is losing me, or like she is betraying me or acting in a manner that is inconsistent with my ownership. Her moving closer to Liam, at my direction, is not inconsistent with that Dominance. She needs to understand that. And I need to find the balance for her that allows her to grow while feeling nurtured and safe.

 

bdsm · caning · spanking

Soap?

Apology is a lovely perfume; it can transform the clumsiest moment into a gracious gift.  ~Margaret Lee Runbeck

I owed M an apology and I offered him one today. I explained in my last post how I argued with him when he told me to give the phone back to Ms. Anna. I never argue with him and I think that if you asked him he would agree that I am mostly obedient. I try anyway. Sometimes we tease and play but I can always tell when he is serious. Saturday I knew he was serious and I argued with him anyway. And it wasn’t just a little “but M…” I told him No, I said I didn’t want to do something and I threatened to hang up the phone so he couldn’t tell Ms. Anna what I had said. I was terrible. I was disrespectful and I felt awful about it right away. He was upset with me I could tell but he also took into consideration the difficult position I was in. Though he would never, ever let me get away with how I acted.

Anyway, I am not sure what got into me at that moment except that I knew he was going to tell Ms. Anna what I said. I also felt as if he had truly misunderstood me. Looking back of course with a more settled disposition I realize it shouldn’t have mattered if I was misunderstood or not. Fact remains I should have obeyed him immediatly. That is our agreement. If I had a list of rules from him it would be number one. It distracted me through the remainder of my session with Ms. Anna because I try so hard to please him and I hate, hate, hate letting him down. It showed me how badly I need Ms. Anna and it shamed me that I am still not where I need to be with M. My obedience to him should be immediate and this time I blatantly disobeyed him.

I apologized today and this is what I said….

“I know it is too late to apologize and I know I deserve big time punishment for how I acted. I shouldn’t have argued with you the way I did on the phone. I should have given her the phone right away and not made it worse. I am sorry for acting like such a baby.”

What I just realized right now is this may have been one of the first apologies I have ever offered him without interlacing excuses. I think I am slowly learning that even the most sincere apology can be ruined by adding excuses.

He said….

“As for your apology, thank you. But please paste it into your naughty list as you wrote it. Given your acknowledgment of it, I know you will submit to being punished for it. I have a mind to wash your mouth out with soap, something you will find nothing close to erotic.”

He mentions me not finding anything erotic in having my mouth washed out with soap because I have the ability to eroticize all types of pain. He finds it challenging to punish me at times-  I think. What can I say, I am a masochist.

Me…..

“You would never do that to me, would you?”

Him….

“Yes I would. I think it would taste foul and stay in your mouth a long time. You’ve earned it. Task: post on your blog and ask if anyone has done it, what it’s like.”Me…“Yes Sir, but can I ‘unearn’ a punishment?”

Him….

“Unearn (not a word btw)… no, I don’t think so. You can try, of course. Your punishments depend on what I want and think, not on what you do. Hence I can beat you hard and long for closing a curtain too loudly or I can spank you gently and erotically for challenging my authority.”

I am very curious if anyone has ever submitted to having their mouth washed out with soap. I have concerens about allergies, chemicals and stomach aches. I even think most soap manufactureres put warning labels on the boxes. Something to the effect of..’not for human consumption’ or possibly..’ for external use only’. I also looked at the ingredients of soap and spent way too much time learning about all the actual reasons why it should never be put in your mouth.

I found this on:

http://www.sci-toys.com/ingredients/soap.html

“Today, soaps are made from fats and oils that react with lye (sodium hydroxide). Solid fats like coconut oil, palm oil, tallow (rendered beef fat), or lard (rendered pork fat), are used to form bars of soap that stay hard and resist dissolving in the water left in the soap dish.

Oils such as olive oil, soybean oil, or canola oil make softer soaps. Castile soap is any soap that is made primarily of olive oil, and is known for being mild and soft.

As warm liquid fats react with lye and begin to saponify, they start to thicken like pudding. At this point dyes and perfumes are often added. The hardening liquid is then poured into molds, where it continues to react, generating heat. After a day, the bars can be cut and wrapped, but the saponification process continues for a few weeks, until all of the lye has reacted with the oils.

Soaps are often superfatted, so after all of the lye has reacted with the fats, there are still fats left over. This is important for two reasons. First, the resulting soap is easier to cut, and feels smoother on the skin. Second, the extra fats make sure that all of the lye reacts, so no lye is left to irritate the skin, and the resulting soap is not too alkaline.

The saponification process results in about 75% soap, and 25% glycerine. Commercial bar soaps contain sodium tallowate, sodium cocoate, sodium palmate and similar ingredients, all of which are the results of reacting solid fats (tallow, coconut oil, and palm kernel oil respectively) with lye.

To these ingredients, they add fatty acids such as coconut acid and palm acid (the fats in coconut oil and palm kernel oil) as the extra fats needed to ensure the lye is completely reacted, and the soap has a good feel.

Polyethylene glycols such as PEG-6 methyl ether may be added as either surfactants, detergents, emulsifiers (to make the dyes and perfumes blend evenly), or as thickeners.

Glycerine is added as an emollient and texture enhancer. Sorbitol is another emollient used along with glycerine. It is often added to help make glycerine soaps more transparent. Titanium dioxide is added to make the soap opaque.

Pentasodium pentetate, tetrasodium etidronate and tetrasodium EDTA are added as water softeners, and to protect the dyes and perfumes from the effects of metal ions in the mixtures. These compounds lock up calcium and magnesium in the water, preventing them from reacting with the soap to form insoluble soap scum.

Gross, Gross, Gross….try eroticizing that. Again, has this happened to anyone? Did you get sick? Did you burp bubbles for days…please tell.

D/s

Tonight- repost from November 07′

Sometimes I am overcome by the sadness that envelopes me when I think that one day Richard won’t be in my life. It rushes to me, covers me and crushes me even when I push it away. Thoughts are like that sometimes.

I look forward in my mind even when I know that I shouldn’t. I imagine a day when we both know it is our last day together. The last time he touches my face or when his hand releases my own for what we know will be the last time. The last time his lips brush my skin or his hands pull me beneath him. It will be there on his calendar, it isn’t there now but we both know one day it will. Maybe it will be written in red ink…maybe someone will even circle it and eventually boldly mark through it not even realizing what it is they’ve wiped away.

I wonder what it is that I will remember the most. I hope it won’t be the pain of losing him. I hope that our last days together won’t be spent focused on the goodbye. I want every second now and going forward with him to be a reflection of what we mean to each other and how real..how truly surprisingly real this has become between us. I think that sometimes Richard is seen as one sided on my blog. I know he seems harsh and sadistic. He is. There is another side to him. A side that I love and crave as much as I love and crave the darker side of my handsome Owner. The soft side of him is who I needed after Max and Alex.I remember the taxi ride back to my hotel with Max…trying to keep up with the soft conversation he was offering me and losing track…losing focus because I knew that back in my room was my connection to Richard. I think at that moment I would have done anything to have him greet me at the door or for him to be waiting for me in the lobby….and not sitting states away from me wondering how it was going. I think Max knew I was anxious to let Richard know that I was alright. A soft kiss, a whispered goodbye… and he was gone..leaving me to my thoughts for barely a second before I found my Owner online. He told me to turn my cam on that he wanted to see me. “You’ve been crying.” he stated, it wasn’t a question or a judgment. It just was.

I simply said…”I want to come home.”

A pause…and then “I am on your airline page…give me your confirmation number.” Two minutes later a ticket home a day early was in my email in-box. He flew me home a day early and picked me up at the airport.

It wasn’t as if this experience is laced with regrets, it isn’t. It made me reflect on many things. I like Max and Alex so much and so throughly enjoyed my time with them that I could never say I regretted it. It changed me and showed me some things about myself. It also made me appreciate my Owner…the freedom he allows me to explore my fantasies…to lead a ‘normal’ life with my boyfriend all the while offering unwavering support.

I had so many emotions facing him that day. Looking for displeasure or maybe even disgust in his eyes for what I did. I only saw love and concern and a desire to help me process all of what I was feeling. I couldn’t sleep the night before and he wanted me to rest. He laid me down in the middle of his huge bed and covered me up…he made me a snack…he made me laugh. We talked and talked and I shared with him all that I was ready to share…he patiently waited for the rest of it. I think he is still patiently waiting for the rest of it. He laid down beside me and pulled me as close to him as possible…so close I felt his heart through my back and our breathing merged in a lovers rhythm that one only recognizes after many nights wrapped in each other’s arms. I felt restless…thinking too much I guess. His hands on my back..in my hair..tracing the outline of my mouth… my ear.. my chin soothed me, quieted my heart and my unsettled mind so I could drift off to sleep.

His mouth was close to my ear…so close his warm breath tickled my skin. He started to sing to me…..my sadistic Dominant, the man who forces cries from my lips and ignores hot tears on my face began to sing to me…his words broke my heart. I will remember them always.

Well the sun is surely sinking down,
but the moon is slowly rising.
So this old world must still be spinning around,
and I still love you.

It won’t be long before another day.
We’re gonna have a good time.
And no one’s gonna take that time away.
You can stay as long as you like.

His words were soft and quiet. The voice one would use with a fretful child. He told me later there was more to the song. The rest of it I wasn’t ready to hear just yet. One day he said I could listen to the words and smile…that I could hear the song and just remember him ..remember us and none of the sadness would be there. I doubt it. I know that because I asked him for the rest of the song and he sent it to me. Foolish girl…why did you play it?

So close your eyes;
you can close your eyes, it’s all right.
I don’t know no love songs,and I can’t sing the blues any more.
But I can sing this song,
and you can sing this song
when I’m gone.

I never realized someone else’s words could burrow so deeply into my heart and break it from the inside. It was one of the moments that paused even the air around me. It was a moment that I will be able to perfectly recall for the rest of my life….and I hope that one day I will do what he says. That I can remember the words and the soft voice that whispered them in my ear and smile.

D/s

back to stories…

I just feel like imagining….like writing, like remembering….

His words were soft and as close to my heart as they were to my ear. His breath was moist and warm and I tilted my head towards his lips hoping more than hope that they would brush the curl of my ear. My eyes were closed and I willed my body to quiet, begged my heart to be silent so I didnʼt miss a word that flowed from his mouth. His fingers were on my shoulders and I could feel the warmth of his open palms against my collar bone. The size of his hands made me feel small…delicate. He was behind me, his naked chest against the damp skin of my back. He felt solid. My arms were above my head my hands pressed against the old satiny paper on the wall. The room was glowing with morning sunshine and it warmed the air giving everything around us an old fashioned feeling. It made me imagine that we were in an old foreign film and the people who watched us saw our skin in a grainy black and white. Only we were anything but. The colors of his touch exploded around us in sharp breaths and deep moans and we were both vibrant and so much alive.
The back of his hand slid down my back and I trembled as it paused there in the indented place right above the curve of my bottom. His touch was sure and his mouth was against the back of my neck… his other hand resting now on my stomach dipping lower to urge my legs apart.
“Spread your legs for me.” I wiggled my feet apart slightly arching my back pressing my naked bottom closer to him. I silently begged him to take me, knowing he wouldnʼt a second before he wanted to. He was slow with me. He was deliberate and I could tell he was enjoying my nakedness, my position and the way I couldnt help trembling. I needed his hands on me and I opened my mouth to say it to him but couldn’t get anything out. He touched my hair. “Your Master loves you. You don’t have to say anything.”
I was slick for him, hot and opened and my clit was swollen and it ached like a small heart. It pulsed as if it was sending a coded signal to his knowing fingers. I pressed my bottom out just a bit further leaning my chest inward more so my breasts were flattened against the cool wall. “Good girl.” he whispered before his teeth bit into my neck and then again on my shoulder. I knew he marked me and the heat of his mouth was like a brand. His fingers were opening the slick naked lips of my cunt. “God you are so wet…so hot down here for me.” He bit me again this time bending slightly so his brand marked me in the center of my back. I cried out hardly recognizing the almost panicked sound of my own voice. My need was already great and it was building. I felt fevered and was headed to that place where pain was all I needed from him; pain and the unquenchable desire to please him wrapped around me and threatened everything or any limit ever silently established between us.
I didnʼt know what he was going to do to me, I didnʼt care. I only knew I wanted it and I would take it. His hand gripped my arm and pulled me backward turning me so I was facing him and my bottom was now against the wall. My eyes met his chest and I could see his heart pounding. The rhythm matched the ache in my cunt and the dampness was thick on the top of my thighs. He knelt down and roughly pulled my cunt lips apart his mouth sucking the hood of my clit into its heat and nipped at the swollen tender nerve that was hidden within.
Without being told my arms were above my head…. my legs open, always open for him. I was lost in the sensation of having his beautiful mouth tugging at my clit. He paused and I felt a different texture there….I felt a pinch and then a deep pain that turned hot and then warm and I realized he was applying metal clamps to my lips. At one time they had rubbery black tops hiding the sharpened metal teeth but in the height of his sadism he had pulled them off. The metal teeth were like small animals tearing into my bare lips; first two on each side and then two more so the weight of the clips and the linked thin chain that held them together held me open for his inspection. They were like a heavy hands twisting and pulling and when he pulled on the chains I almost dropped to my knees. Whether it was pain or pure masochistic desire…it didnʼt matter to me I was already gone. He fumbled with the metal as if weighing the heaviness of it in his hand before dropping it and letting it hit my legs. Every time he did it the teeth tightened against my skin and the chains felt heavier. “I could hurt you like this all night. Just play with you like this, fill this room with your moans for the rest of the day.”
He reached up and pinched my nipples pulling on them until they stretched far away from my body. I pulled back needing more…wanting more and I felt his fingers slip away leaving my nipples aching. He stood up and showed me that he held more clamps in his hand. Again…my nipples were pinched and pulled away but this time he clamped the metal onto the tender pink skin. I was sure he was piercing me they were so tight. They were pieces of agony dangling from my nipples and when he pulled them I felt the tears explode from my eyes and drip down my heated cheeks. My moan was deep and even my own ears I could tell it was a moan of need….it spoke to him and it whispered…please…please…I am almost there. It was a language he knew and we only spoke it together. “I know..I know…” he murmured. “Iʼm not finished with you yet.”
The chain hanging from my nipples was now a lead and he tugged it hard pulling me forward causing the metal to pinch harder into my skin. He pulled and I followed…and he wasnʼt gentle when he pushed me towards the bed so I was bent over it. The thick whiteness of the comforter was like torture against my nipples…he pressed a hand into my back knowing he forced the metal teeth that were chewing on my cunt lips and my nipples to bite harder.
His hand was on the back of my neck and his other hand had started to spank me hard. The slaps were fast, hard and stinging and I fought the urge to dodge them, to move away. He spoke to me and his voice blended with the cadence of his hand and I was lost in the feeling. I was struggling to catch my breath when he stopped only to replace his hand for the cane. No warm up for me…he rested the cane against my skin for a second before pulling back. It landed across my bottom again and again and I was breathing hard to not cry out…to not step away. And then it happened…that flash that comes across my body. It is right after I realize I am sweating….right after I realize the pain feels warm…and good and then there is this switch. It is when every time the cane makes contact my body just pulses….and flashes and the endorphins are sparking and bright all inside me. There is no pain and it feels like magic all over me. Knowing I am his…and I take this for him adds an element of pleasure and I arch towards his cane and with my body I beg him to not stop…to cane me harder…to cane my back….the backs of my legs…all of me is like a nerve and I feel on the verge of orgasm.
I realize his hand is not holding me down…I am not fighting him or the pleasure of the cane. I am just still beneath it….submitting to him willingly, with all of myself the way he taught me to. He stops caning me and I feel the brush of it against my cheek as he tosses it down beside me. I fight the urge to press my lips to it….in that moment I feel so deeply connected to that extension of him. I feel his hands against my bottom and he is separating my cheeks…I feel him press against me. He whispered for me to relax…to not fight him. He told me to press back against him and I felt his fingers grip my hips tightly. When I did he inched inside me slowly and I felt myself stretch to take him in. I pressed a little more and he gripped me harder and all at once slammed inside me lifting my feet from the floor. He filled me and I felt as if i could explode with the pleasure of his violation. His hand found my clit and rubbed it hard and he knew I was going to cum. The rythm of him deep inside of me and the stretching feeling of having him deep in my ass was overwhelming. The pleasure was almost too intense and when I came I came hard against him throwing myself back to make his deepest thrust even deeper. His fingers had to have been bruising my hips they were holding me so tight. He pressed hard into my back so I was flat against the bed and he continued to take me….it was a pounding rhythm that pulled me in and blocked out everything else. It was a raw primitive feeling of just being taken and used by him…I was blended with him and all the pleasure he was giving me and all the pleasure he was taking from my body.
he told me to reach around and spread my cheeks for him as wide as I could…I obeyed him and he pounded even harder into me…deeper than I thought possible. I felt the sweetest release building way up inside of me and I knew I would cum again…if only he would keep doing it just like that. He didnt stop…and I didnt either and when I came he came and I felt the hot flooding sensation of having him mark me on the inside…like the cane he cut into me and flooded me with pleasure and pain all together. Without leaving my body he moved me so I was nestled against him…so that he was tight against me…almost like I was inside of him too. He moved us to the center of the bed and covered us with the white blanket that was torturing me moments before….I slept.

D/s

tuesday

you were a little leaf that trembled on my chest. Life’s wind put you there. At first I did not see you: I did not know that you were walking with me until your roots pierced my chest, joined the threads of my blood, spoke through my mouth, flourished with me.~~~ Pablo Neruda

I feel like I am walking around outside of myself. I don’t like feeling this much pain and knowing it is just going to sit here with me. I never understood before how some people can just fall to pieces when they are suffering. I have a clearer view of the world- i would think that I would be able to place this type of pain and suffering into something resembling perspective. I can’t. He said to me that he wished he could take all of this pain on himself. I think that is what I am already doing. I am hurting so he doesn’t have to anymore. Of course it isn’t that simple. I know he is hurting, I know he wants me, needs me, loves me; though the cost to him is too high. If he let me go, if he sent me away from him he would forever feel guilty. If L forced him to let me go he would always resent her for that. If I take a stand here then it makes it better for both of them. How can I not? How can I let him hurt…how can I hurt him like that or continue to place him in the position where he feels he is the cause of hurting two women he loves. Being with me for a happily ever after isn’t an option, it never was. Their life and love together is more important than what little I give him. I’ve realized that. I realized that a long time ago. Today. Tuesday the pain is like a hard rock. Tuesday is the night where we would come together and be able to hide behind that door where we were only existing for each other. I don’t know how I can live without that. Having Richard didn’t cost me my happiness, losing him does. I don’t know if I can give to another the way I gave to him. I think ahead to when I know my own cravings, nature and desire will lead me into a new relationship. That scares me. What will it be like? It terrifies me and I want to hide inside the pocket of his used to be ownership and pretend I am still his. In my mind I am. In my mind part of me always, always will be. I don’t know what is going to happen. I have to hold tight to the belief this is best for him….if I lose that I fall apart, I fail. If I let him go and he isn’t happier then this hot pain is for nothing. Tonight I am weak, and sad. I can look ahead and wonder why life is the way it is. I can wonder why I am here, it’s been so hard. I only wanted to love him, to bring him joy and happiness. I think I took more than I gave and that is the hardest thing for me tonight. I think that is maybe why he hasn’t fought this decision. I think that is why he hasn’t reached out to me. Or maybe he has finally realized he is better off. That he is happier there in his normal life without me on the fringes of it. There could be so many reasons. I can’t sleep. I haven’t eaten and I am really trying. I can’t make myself do anything but feel trapped inside my idea of what is right and wrong. Mostly tonight I miss my friend. I miss the man who had become my very best friend. I told him everything, gave him everything and let him touch every piece of what I held inside of myself. This is a sadness so great I can’t express it. It is a loss I feel to my very core and it teeters between knowing this is the only way…the only way to I must be crazy to not curl up with every last second that could be spent with him. I love him that much. I miss my Owner, my dominant, I miss hearing his heart beat when he held me or his voice when he said something to me that only I was meant to hear. There is so much. That voice, his words….all the things he could make me do with a look, a smile. How do you move past that? Maybe I can’t. Maybe I never will. Oh, I know one day it won’t hurt so much. One day it will just be all soft smiles and memories but until that day comes how do I survive in this pain that is following me around?

How will I make it through this night without him?

D/s

monday

Today there isn’t one part of me that is not sad. I’ve admitted to my readers before that I am an emotional girl. When I am happy, content, satisfied…I feel it deeply, I purr with it. I wrap it around everyone who is near me. Sadness is the same. It is darker, thicker….harder to capture somehow with words. When I am sad the sadness is infinite and heavy and it seems like my entire body, my spirit, my world can pulse with the aching emptiness of it. Today is like that, yesterday…the day before…..the day before- I don’t know when it started….all pulses and then piles randomly in a red heated pain. It is something I can wipe off or push away or step away from.

There is no one I can turn to and bury my head into for comfort or understanding. I am alone with my pain. I’m not sure what to do with all of these feelings. Where can I put them? I’m not strong enough to ignore them. How do you ignore a hurricane? How do you ignore a spinning hot quicksand that wraps heatedly around your ankles? How do you ignore that? There is not a box big enough for me to contain the pain I feel right now.

There is nothing that can stop my tears. I’ve paused and hoped there was a way. That this isn’t true, that there is another option….another idea. This pain is too big for me, it doesn’t fit and it is more than I ever thought possible. More than I have imagined.

It’s a cliff I can’t climb down from, a rip current that has me pulled so far under that even if a hand was reaching for me they couldn’t grasp me in time. Finally I’ve fallen into something I can’t get out of and still be OK. I’m not sure I like admitting that and I’m not sure what it means.

There has always been that part of me way down inside that was simply seeking an outlet, a release, a realness that the real world couldn’t see or understand. When you find that you realize that you have poured your soul into it. You realize too late that it is different from all of the other relationships in your life…it is not something you get over, or get past for it has become part of you. And how do you get over a piece of yourself?

I just want to rip this feeling away from my body and drop it someplace but it won’t come off. How do you get back that part of you? Without it nothing external seems to matter….you don’t feel sleepy, or hungry and the world just seems to be moving past me and here I am just inside myself feeling very quiet. Where do I put this…where can I hide this pain even if its only for a few minutes so I can take a breath?

I am all alone here. I am alone with this pain and it is the scariest feeling. It is too big, too big….and there is no silver lining to tuck pieces of it into.

D/s

steps forward

There was an instant aching arousal that consumed me almost the minute I entered the room. I am driving to meet him and my body feels tight with arousal. My breasts ache in such a way I know that if he touches them I will stop breathing. I wonder as I pull in and slow my car if I am breathing. I sit quietly in my car and take a deep breath my heart beats faster, my excitement and my nervousness grows. Separately I can handle these feelings, together they overwhelm me.

Moments later I am naked with Richard. Richard undressed me. He has this way of undressing me that makes me feel more than naked, almost as if along with my clothing his fingers remove layers of confusion, insecurities and ambiguity. All of what collects and settled on me he can strip away with a touch. I know there will never be a time when a man undresses me and I do not think of Richard. This feeling is not making me sad today. If I lost him tomorrow for whatever reason I know that if I spread it all out in front of me what I’ve gained is so much more than what I’ve lost. His influence and thoughts of him will walk with me for the rest of my life. There are so few people in my life who have made such an impact on me. This is a feeling that can overwhelm me too. I sit here and I write and I think to myself that I wish everyone could know him. That way you could see who he is and how he handles me and why I, the girl who never trusts, can trust him with everything.

Now I am kneeling, soft carpet beneath my knees. He’s allowed me to leave my panties and bra on for the moment. I am by his chair. His legs are open and my head is resting against the inside of his leg. Richard is fully dressed. Today he is in black and it is my favorite color when he has it on. It was as if he knew how the evening would play out and dressed the part of the darkened soul. His hands in my hair quieted me, settled me and I knew I was prepared to do whatever he asked of me. His hand tightened just a bit on the back of my neck but the message to lift my head was obvious. I looked at him. “Did you come to submit to me?” I looked away, I looked down or around. I looked anywhere except at the tender darkness in his face. “Look at me. Did you come to submit to me?”

“Yes Sir.”

The room was dim but not dark and I could see him gazing down at me. His emotions live in his eyes and they warmed my naked skin as much as his fingers grazing my back did. He pressed my head back against his leg and I breathed in the familiar scent of him.

I sometimes forget when I write in my blog that my readers don’t all know the broad spectrum of emotions I balance on when I submit to Richard. I assume sometimes that it is easy to understand what I write about then I realize how incredible the true power exchange he and I share really is. I know that years ago when I first accepted this side of myself a blog like this would have been helpful. It would have been helpful because I really try to keep this real.

When I kneel there in front of him the feelings that consume me are almost something that I wonder if I have a right to feel…there is this peace around me. It is startling. There could be missiles outside the window, 15 inches of snow piling up outside or any other catastrophe threatening the gentleness of the moment and I know if he had me kneel in front of him, if he allowed my head to rest against his leg that everything else would simply melt away. On my knees in front of him feels more natural to me than standing by his side. It is a part of who we are to each other that quiets everything else for me. Maybe for him too….I forget that sometimes; I forget that having me do that may pull him deeper into what we are together and further away from where he was an hour before. I want to be someone he can lose himself in…where we can hide beneath that blanket feeling of being separate from the rest of the world. I also forget that he needs to prepare his own mind for what he is about to do to me. Imagine this all American looking sophisticated man who to the rest of the world looks as normal and gentle yet I see him and look through all of that. I know all of that is as much a part of him as what he gives to me so I value it as much yet I know there is the darker side of him that is intense. That part of him is mine. He gives it to me because I can take it. Because I want it.

On this day after he undressed me, after he had me kneel at his knee after he spoke gently to me… he told me to stand up in front of him. Of course I obeyed him and he glided his hands across my skin in such a way there was no doubt in my mind or his that I was his. He told me to step up on the ottoman and turn towards him. The fabric was soft beneath my feet and he held my hand until I found my balance. I loved how his hands moved along my skin and I loved how he told me to turn around so he could see me from behind. His hands touched me everywhere, they slipped beneath the fabric of my bra to twist nipples, they cupped my bottom and pressed against my cunt. And when he allowed me to step down my panties were already soaked. It is that raw possessiveness that he wraps around me. It steadies me and prepares me to spend the next few hours with a sadist.

Something entered the room with us on this night. I felt something there and it was all around us. As if the core of what we are to each other had some how been compromised…..as if there was acknowledged doubt regarding where we were and where we were headed. Richard and I have it easy right now—moments are easy between us. I am in a great place in my head, I feel fully submissive to him and less distracted than I have been in the past year. Severing ties with L was the best thing I ever did if I look at it in terms of Richard and I in a box. I do not have to see the two of them together, but more importantly I never have to be ANYONE or ANYTHING to Richard than who and what I am. I can just be his submissive, his pet…or his pixie-pet like he called me in a recent text message. Until it was gone I didn’t realize how horrifically distracting maintaining a relationship with her…and that separate relationship with the man he became when he was with both of us was. Now that I no longer have to deal with that I only have my submission to him and his dominance of me to consider. On the other hand outside of our dynamic Richard does not have it easy right now. I think L liked being involved in the dynamic between the two of us, not that she ever joined us on our nights together but when she and I were building a relationship and even more after we had established that odd sort of friendship between the two of us she was able to control it more, even control me more. My interactions with Richard were often based and even planned on whatever mood L was in at that time. Now I don’t ask….I can’t see and he doesn’t tell. I only need to walk into that room with him and obey him- I only need to offer myself as his submissive and not wonder, or care or focus on her or on that three part relationship we had built. All of a sudden I have the luxury of keeping the part of him that he gives me all to myself. It’s enough. It is working for me because I know Richard is committed to making this work, he is committed to both of us. And when I give myself to him I never feel anyone else in the room. Like I said…I have the luxury of focusing on him and not thinking about the two of them. Since I have not spent time with her or with them as a couple he and I have had two nights together and those two nights have been incredible. They have easily surpassed the nights we shared during the time when the three of us were trying to establish a balance.

So right now what I am getting from R is good. In me he is finding obedience, and the perfect submission that he has taught me.

Yet back on the ranch…. L is asking him to end it with me. Some of what she is saying sounds like ultimatums and of course that throws conflicts around in all directions. So things are not good in paradise right now and I won’t say anything else about that right now except that Richard is somehow still able to make me a priority. I think he acknowledges where my head is, that I am secure in my submission to him and I know what that means to him. It makes his world easier, it also gives him a sure outlet. I’m okay with that. I know he doesn’t want to let me go…not now after all we have overcome. I need him and he needs what I give him…so of course I want to make keeping me easier for him. I am doing a good job here in my own little world. I am going to soak up every second I have with him. So on one hand my heart goes out to L because I know how hard this is however I can also say I know more about her than I ever want to know and that tempers my pity. I think my compassion is with Richard because I think he has the hardest job of all.

But enough about all that….

Last week my interaction with him was scary. It was amazing and scary. It had something to do with what entered the room with us that night I am sure. A lot of it is still jumbled up in my head. I know that when he helped me step down from the ottoman he again had me kneel. He pressed my head into his leg and soon his cock filled my mouth. He told me not to suck but to just let it sit in my mouth. I felt a warm humiliation creeping up my back. I was balancing between all of the confusing feelings that I press backwards time and time again and the hot rawness of that wanton side of me that craves him making me do things like that. I am what I am to him…that’s another way of saying it is what it is. When he has me sit with his cock in my mouth when I just need him to kiss me is as confusing to me as when he makes me cum again and again and I just want him to hurt me.

I know this night was such a blend of tenderness and pain. What he gives me and what I need are somehow communicated without words. I don’t know how I ended up on the bed but was soon there on my knees. I remember him telling me to get on my hands and knees and then not being pleased with how I did it. That isn’t how I want you…I remember him saying something like that. I heard him open the cylinder that transports his collection of canes and I heard him dump them on the bed beside me. This sound has the same effect on me as his belt slipping out of his pants does. I tense and then relax and then tense again. I know what is coming. I feel the urgent need to hurt me coming from him and it feeds my desire to give it to him.

He caned me as hard as he ever has. He may have caned me harder than he ever has. There were moments of broken white pain that made me cry…tears I tried to hide. tears he found and kissed off of my face…tears he encouraged me to cry. There were moments when my need to have him hurt me scared me. When I was so lost in him, in his need, in his dominance of me that I forgot he has the ability to really hurt me; that there is risk there every time we interact.

I feel him balancing on that edge of being fully in control of both of us and then barely in control of himself. He told me scary Richard was there…and I said I didn’t want him, that I didn’t want scary Richard. Only it was too late and even said that. The slight possibility that he had somehow lost a little control of himself only made me want him more, only made me want to give him more, take more. I was consumed by a need stronger than common sense to let him hurt me.

The cane just kept coming…and one second I was begging him to stop and the next I was asking for more. He caned my back, my breasts….everywhere it seemed. He was on top of me and inside of me and I felt him everywhere. Again moments of tenderness snuck in…but there was always the pain he created and gave me. It was such a sensory experience. I wanted to feel everything everywhere….he has this long paint stick and he was using it on me. He had me flipped around and had my knees open…the paint stick was slapping my thighs, it was stinging my cunt. God it hurt so bad but I wanted it…..I was arching towards it, needing it, needing him to give it to me. I remember holding my hands out to him…in a moment of reckless need and holding them flat knowing he would know what I needed. He brought the paint stick down again and again on my hands…the noise loud in the room.

I know I could say more, I know I could track the night step by step and I am tempted to do so. It’s hard to not allow myself to go back. It’s hard to not tell you how he made me cum again and again until I was so consumed with pleasure my body would not stop trembling or there was a time when he was so deep inside of me I could feel his every shift throughout my body.

It seems we are getting back on track…we are in that place right now where he does not need to be so careful with me. My remission is strong, I am feeling more like myself and we have learned a lesson. Life is short and it can be taken away in a second. My health can slip away with a breath and we both know it. I have a new appreciation for every moment I am allowed to spend with the ones I love. I focus less on the petty and more on the person. It is a good place to be. I feel like I am growing again.