Words

His words oh his words

They take me on a ride 

Through my darkest places

Each syllable caresses

A wave of emotion to ride

Surrounding me within him

The meanings fill me

His dark intent made clear

With loving torture

Each staccato riff cuts

Each baritone whisper soothes

My mind on the knife’s edge

I live in the notes of his play

My soul dances with his 

I am crushed and reborn

He makes me his whore

My identity his to take

Owned and set free

Word by word a new vista

An aural heaven found

Bliss wrapped in care

Evil incarnate cradles me

My psyche in his talons

Inky corridors my home

Fulfilled in his dark depths

Made whole in his realm

Please keep me here forever

Advertisements

Exhibitionism – He Missed Me

I was gone on vacation for a week. I didn’t get to see or talk to Mr. D during that time because I was out at sea. We emailed but that was it. He felt distant from me. I spent a great deal of the time I was gone sleeping. I’m sure I needed the downtime after all the hospital time and funeral planning, etc.

I knew I’d be able to see Mr. D on Friday night once I got back. I dropped my luggage at home and got on the road to him. I didn’t shave, I didn’t dress from him. I didn’t want to take any time away from seeing him. I was too eager to be with him to wait any longer.

Mr. D’s home has a front yard that is surrounded by walls. You walk in a bamboo swing gate next to the garage. Each side of the courtyard is walled. The house is in the back and the garage in the front. The sides are five foot tall brick walls. On one side is another home and the other has a walkway that leads to a park. The gate has no latch and is private enough until you’re in the driveway then you can see right through the bamboo. Mr. D mentioned that we’d have the house to ourselves as his roommates would be gone. As I pushed through the gate, Mr. D was sitting in the courtyard smoking a cigar. He smiled as I stepped close and leaned down to kiss him in greeting. Aromatic smoke wafted from his cigar and the flavor of tobacco was on his lips. I love a man who smells of masculine things. As I pulled away from our kiss, he put his hand on the back of my neck and pulled my head down close so that his lips grazed my ear. “Go freshen up, put on a skirt with no panties and return to me.”

I felt my legs weaken as I said, “Yes Daddy” and took myself into the house. Quickly, I did as I was told. I knew then that he had plans and it made me weak to think about what they were. I put on a tight stretchy pink skirt with no panties and went back out to stand before him. He smoked his cigar in a leisurely fashion and nodded. “Nice choice.” He reached his hand down to a duffel bag on the ground next to his chair. Oh, I was in for it. He had it filled with many unknown things. He pulled out a leather blindfold and handed it to me. The order was implicit. I put on the blindfold and made sure I couldn’t see. I was relieved for it actually. He loves sex in public and it makes me incredibly nervous. We were fairly protected in his courtyard but anyone could walk down the pathway and look over the wall or come in the gate at any time. It brought butterflies alive in my belly. But I’m a good girl and I agreed to the terms of being his submissive so here I was, blindfolded in the front yard.

Next I felt something encircle my neck. Wait a minute, what is this? A collar? He has never put one on me before. He loves to torment the fiercely vulnerable areas on my neck and has said he may never put a collar on me because it would interfere. I felt the leather on my neck and I slipped deeply into a submissive state. I’ve only had a collar put on me one other time. A Dom friend was showing me a posture collar he bought for his wife. When he buckled it on my neck, the same thing happened. I was putty. It’s the strangest reaction. I don’t know if it’s the vulnerability of my neck, all the inherent meanings of a collar or a combination of the two but it drops me into another place. It’s powerful to me and elicits a powerful reaction. He tugged on the back of the collar after it was buckled. “Mmm, I like that. Do you?” Yes, yes, yes, I nodded. Yes, liked it very much.

“Pull up your skirt, turn around and sit down.” I felt behind me and there was a chair for me. I pulled my skirt up until he could see my sex and sat down on the edge of the chair. “Spread your legs and lean back.” I did as told all the while thinking about that fact that it was broad daylight and anyone could see me if they looked over the wall. I heard him rummage in his bag and felt him lay something across my thighs. He pulled up my blouse and saw that I was wearing a basic, latch in the front bra. “Nice choice.” He said as he unhooked my bra and pushed it back on each side to expose my breasts. I reclined before him, blindfolded, collared and exposed. My sex, my thighs and my breasts were presented to him. I heard him take another drag on his cigar and smelled the smoke waft over me as he took in the sight of his handy work.

“My slut finally came home to Daddy. I missed you lady. There was something about you being gone where I couldn’t get at you at all.” His fingers tweaked my nipples and made them hard. He caressed them and teased them while his voice filled my mind. Then his hands were on my thighs bringing my nerve endings alive. His hands caressed up from my knees all the way to my exposed sex. His fingers pushed into me, dry and harsh. It made me moan and roll my hips so that he had a smoother pathway inside me. Wetness rushed to meet his touch. His thumb rubbed my hard little nub further rousing me.

“You like that don’t you slut?” I moaned my approval.

“Yes, Daddy.”

He slapped my thighs one after the other. The sting was shocking. It had been over a week and my body was not in the same mode. It was in vanilla mode. I hadn’t mentally prepared for this at all. I winced and whimpered. “Give me your hand.” I raised my hand from the chair where I gripped it and held it out in front of me. He grabbed my wrist and pushed my hand into my sex. “Rub your clit for me.” I did as asked. I moved my fingers around until my clit was positioned and I could rub it back and forth as he wanted. He took another drag on his cigar. Then I heard the sound of camera clicks. Oh shit, he’s taking pictures of me like this exposed in the front yard.

Again my thighs were slapped, and then I felt the stings of the tiny whip. It is an implement similar to a silicon basting brush. It is a tiny whip with long silicon falls. It looks like an innocent toy but stings like a motherfucker when wielded right. The whip teased my nipples and thighs intermittently. I gasped and moaned and every so often he’d stop and take more pictures. The picture taking added more to the level of exhibitionism he was demanding of me. It felt invasive and hot at the same time. I didn’t think I looked my best, such a female thought, but I knew he loved me in this position and under his control. Also, that I was completely exposed and he could do as he wanted without me having a choice.

“Your pussy is stubbly. You never come over like that. That’s cute.” He said. I cringed. I had rushed to get to him. I hadn’t prepared myself. And now there were stubbly pictures as proof. Oh well, I thought. I always end up paying for your mistakes.

“I asked you to masturbate and cum for me at least once while you were gone, did you?” I cringed again, caught. I had been completely immersed in mom-mode. He knows me too well. He knew I’d probably not made any time for myself. I was caught red-handed. I swear he reads me like a prized dog-eared book. I should know what’s coming but I only see the chain of events in hindsight.

“Stand and face the chair.” I stood and turned around. “Bend over, hands on the chair.” He rummaged in his bag again. His hand caressed my ass then spanked me. It stung a little but I love the feel of his hand on my ass. I could ‘endure’ that all day. Of course, he knows that simply by my reactions. Then I felt an earnest sting. No! Not the hand paddle! It is a polished disc of wood with a strap around the back. It fits snuggly to the palm of his hand and I hate it. He gripped the back of the collar and pulled hard so that my back arched and my ass was presented. “Mmm, I like this collar idea. I may need to rethink that.” He peppered both ass cheeks with stingy biting spanks from the paddle. I held onto the chair and squirmed away from the torture as best I could. As long as the hits didn’t fall on the same spot it was endurable but he knows how to punish. Many times the paddle fell on the same hurting, stinging places.

“Turn around.” I rose from the chair and turned to face him legs like Jello. I had pulled my shirt down to straighten myself up.

“I didn’t say you could do that.” My inner little girl winced at the tone.

“No Daddy. I’m sorry Daddy.”

“When you write about this, because you will write about this, you will post one of these pictures with the post.  Understand?”  I nodded.

He took off the blindfold and I blinked up at him. My eyes growing accustomed to the sun again. “I missed you slut. I’m happy you’re home.” He pulled me close by the collar kissing me gently with passion and pulled me into his embrace. I felt tears and happiness streaming inside me. I was home.

Naked and Exposed

  

I find that I don’t write when I am struggling.  Perhaps I should be writing then most of all. But I don’t. I have this aversion to sharing my hurts. I paste a smile on and get on with it. But I want to write even when I feel nothing. The problem I see is that what I write is always the emotion. Sure, I write about sex or domination or lifestyle or relationship but for me it all boils down to what I feel.

Lately, I am caring for everyone.  Going from care to care to care, I haven’t had any time to process the emotion…to feel.  I’m in constant ‘go’ mode.

I’ve had some incredible sessions with Mr. D.  I haven’t shared them.  Partly because time slips away so fast and with my mind so full of details I don’t remember the full chain of events.  I will tell you some parts.  Mr. D made me strip naked and took me out in the backyard.  He was naked too…which was nice and put me more at ease. He loves public display.  Me, not so much. It makes me nervous.  At least, that night it did.  His yard backs up to a park and a street.  Anyone walking by would have seen us because of the lights on the sidewalk.  I took a deep breath and went outside as asked.  

He pushed me up against the wall.  Hard, cold stucco.  I held myself out from the cold with my fingertips.  He used the flogger to warm up my skin.  Then he used a tiny rubber whip and boy does that little beast sting.  I pressed my cheek to the cold wall and looked over to see the streetlight glowing in the dark.  I shivered with trepidation and felt that shiver flow inside my belly.  Funny to say this but I can’t remember being made to stand before during impact play.  Something about the whole scene made that shiver of nervous energy fill my body.  My legs were rubber, my breathing was really shallow.  I had to force myself to breath deeply to calm down once I realized I was on the verge of hyperventilating.  

It was quite an experience.  Too many new things at once for me to pin down what triggered that reaction.  I’m a nudist so I don’t think that was it though I was concerned about being caught.  It may have been the cold or just purely standing during impact play which meant I couldn’t relax during the strikes.  I’m not sure but every new experience gives me more information.  

I was so relieved when Mr. D motioned me inside even though he used the stingy little paddle once he had me on the bed.  That tormenting little device raises welts on my ass.  I was feeling them afterwards. You know you’re into being a pain slut when you feel welts on your own skin and think, “whoa, that’s cool.”


Image from Pixabay through CC0 Public Domain

Hungry

Do you ever wake up hungry?  Today, I woke up with a hunger for him.  As if my body knew before I was awake that I would see him tonight.

Slick wetness glistens over my sex and I notice its presence there as I’m getting ready for the day.

Images of skin and curves being ravaged by masculine hands and lips assault my mind.

The ever-present sensation of his touch on my soul is heightened and vivid. Why is my heat so prevalent from minute one this morning?

My female essence is fired as is by a kiln and only his touch will assuage the hunger beneath the lava flow.

When I close my eyes my being is rocked by my passion for the sight and feel of him that thunder across my inner playground.

Let the hours fly, let Helios whip his stallions and thrust his sun chariot across the sky post-haste!