I have Saturday’s scenario to write about but all I can think about right now is Mr. D taking me to another place. It’s kind of insane how much my body and mind aches for his Dominance. I want him constantly. It dulls down when life is difficult and my plate is very full but then I am in his presence again. I have him around me and the aching need comes over me like a wave of heat. I do my best to be a good girlfriend and a good person, taking care of regular life duties. Deep inside, though, I have this desire to be his little slave and bow to him and serve him and to give all my body and soul to him.

I want this because his touch and his Dominance on me feel like a drug. I feel that addictive sensation of wanting nothing more than to be his little play thing and do whatever he commands, whatever he deems worthy and will thrill him. I’ve always known I’m submissive but this feels like something more. He burns a wildfire in me that I’ve never felt. His darkness makes my heart sing. His touch and his strength fill me with heat and with dread and with wantonness that continues to flourish and grow.


Sunday, I woke up a while before Mr. D woke up.  I laid in bed next to him enjoying the early morning quiet.  I smiled thinking about our antics with the chili peppers the night before and promised myself I would not be the one to start anything today.  I sighed inwardly knowing that I really needed to leave him alone sexually so he could heal.  Damn but it’s hard keeping my hands off the man.  If we were going to be bad, I was determined it wasn’t going to be me starting things.  I can’t deny him but I wouldn’t start anything.  There, my mind was made.  I could be strong.  Then he woke up.

“Get over here woman.”  I beamed a happy morning smile and snuggled up to him.  He woke up and we talked while we snuggled. My hands were on him as they always are.  I just have to touch him.  He’s got the most amazing fur.  Light-colored, soft fur over his manly hardness….pure addiction.  Excuse me while I obsess a moment…okay, I’m done, lol.

I kept my hands to generally non-sexual areas.  We kissed and talked.  I asked him how he was feeling.  I said, “I’m being good.  I’m not touching you or provoking you in any way to start something.”  I was trying really hard. Fuck, I wanted him.  I’m a horrible person.  I tried to keep it to myself.  He kissed me again.  This time I returned the passion in his kiss twofold.  I could feel the heat coming off of him.  We were in so much trouble.

“Daddy, I’m trying really hard to be good.  I don’t want to make things worse.” More kissing and now I’m hiding against his side.  I’m desperate to grind into him but I restrain myself.  His fingers curl into my hair pulling me up and forcing my eyes to his.

“What I love…” his molten blue eyes locked fiercely on mine, “is how little control we have over this.” His kiss burned through me then. “Baby, touch Daddy’s cock.” Then I knew it was all over.  I’m at once resigned that I’ve failed him and over the top ecstatic that he’s going to fuck me.  The friction between us, both trying to resist the inevitable, has kicked us beyond normal levels and into another realm of kinetic passion entirely.

We were wild in our connection.  Daddy was deep into his Dominance.  I felt like a shark rolling in chum.  I wanted the scent of his Dominant spirit all over me.  When he thrust into me I cried out with the need of him.  His hand was on my throat, choking me, my head thrown back in invitation.  He slapped my breasts hard.  The pain was shocking, his Dominance riotous.

I wanted everything.  His control of me and our passion on the edge of control together. His voice filled my whole essence. The more he talked of his capture of me the wetter I became. The more pain he inflicted the wetter I got. When he told me how wet I was I noticed the slick moisture sliding between us from belly to thigh. How does that happen? I have no control over it, he has all the control.

I cry and whimper and I want the pain to stop but he is learning my triggers. “I am figuring you out baby girl. You have this look of torture on your face but I can see you get all squirrelly in here,” his finger taps my forehead, “and then I feel a flood down there.” He grinds his cock deeper into me. “You can’t lie to me.” And with his words comes another flood.

I understand it and I don’t. I do want to run from the pain. Breast torture is more pain than I thought it would be or thought I could handle but the results…I can’t deny them. I can’t deny him. I’m a hopeless addict and he’s the fix. His dominance and his voice inside my head send me to some other place, a place I want to be all the time now.

Deep Throat

untitledMr. D’s other desire is for me to learn how to deep throat him.  He began pushing me down further when I would give him head.  When I realized that he wanted into the back of my mouth I started pushing harder when I would suck on him.  At first, I thought I was doing as he wanted.  But at some point he shared with me that if I push down on him that hard his shaft pushes into his body at the base and it’s uncomfortable.  So, now what?  I started sucking him more into my mouth with suction and then gently pushing him towards my throat.  It’s better but I can’t seem to get him actually into my throat that way.  He is quite girthy and each time I try to open my mouth that wide it seems like my throat feels strained and the opening is smaller.  I have tried kneeling between his legs, kneeling from the side and once I approached from slightly over his belly.  I turn my mouth this way and that but to no avail.  Once, two weeks ago, amazingly the head of his penis popped into my throat from a weird side angle.  I haven’t been able to reproduce it but that was the ticket!

A few weeks ago, after one of my attempts, Mr. D told me to lie down on the bed.  I heard rustling around in the toy drawer and wondered what he was looking for.  I expected that he’d want to be on top of me right then.  Soon, I had an answer.  He mounted me and as he slid inside me I saw that he had a dildo in his hand.  I was divided.  Right as he slid inside me I wanted to close my eyes to enjoy the pleasure but there was the dildo hovering there and a look on Mr. D’s face.  It was his dark look.  When I see that I know with no uncertainty that I’m in for something harsher.

As he began to fuck me he took my head in his other hand.  He cradled me at the base of my neck and lifted the dildo to my mouth.  “Open,” he said.  I complied and he inserted the dildo all the way into my mouth until it was down my throat.  I had to breathe very carefully and relax immediately if I didn’t want to choke on it.  “Feel that?” I nodded my head.  “That’s how it feels.  That’s what I need from you. Can you do that?” I nodded again.  Oh my, how intense.  To deep throat a dildo by force with Daddy looking into my eyes and his cock buried deep inside me just about sent me over the edge.  The level of domination he had over me in that moment was beyond intoxicating.  Just thinking about it makes me wet again.  He’s done that a couple times since then and every time it elicits the same response from me.  It is raw, it is intense and I want more.

Image from Wikipedia used under CC Public Domain.


wants-485756_1920Finding someone who is as careful and responsible as yourself is an amazing thing.  In the time that Mr. D and I have been together I have found a new level of freedom in my actions and my passion.  He brings out a deep level of need and eroticism in me.  Above that, though, I have found that the way our personalities are made up allows me to let go more than I ever have.

One day we were at my home.  He was over to get to know my child, play some games and do a couple things around the house.  We had precious little time together that month and this was one of those rare times that we had seen each other but not to be alone together.  Prior to arriving, Mr. D texted a command.  He said that he wanted me in a dress so that he might steal an opportunity to feel me and make his dominance known.  Dressing that morning had me hot and flustered.

The afternoon went very well.  Things were accomplished, we had fun and it was a very family-oriented day.  In short, I was driven absolutely crazy having Mr. D in reach with no opportunity to touch him intimately or have him touch me under my command-worn dress. When my child was distracted later in the day, I made an excuse to get Mr. D alone in the bedroom.

I had no thought right then for carefulness.  I wanted him and badly.  I closed the bedroom door and pressed myself to him greedily.  He pushed up my dress and put his fingers inside my wet pussy.  Damn, I wanted him.  He pushed me back on the bed and raised my knees to my chest so he could taste me.  I was wild for him.  I ached for him to be inside me and told him so.  After a couple minutes of licking me and pushing his fingers inside me, he took my hand and lifted me to my feet.  He carefully returned my dress to it’s place and held my face close to his.  He whispered to me that he wanted me just as much if not more but he would not do anything to create a problem for me.

As torn as I was, I felt a swelling of love in this blanket of safety.  He chose to protect me rather than sate his need.  That was an amazing choice and an action altogether new to me.  Since then, I have felt new sensations and a blossoming of a submerged side of my own personality.  In essence, I feel more free to be the wilder side of myself.

Mr. D and I are both the oldest in our families.  This tends to make us very responsible people.  We both like to take care of others and take care of details.  It is different for me to be with someone similar in this respect.  I took care of everyone but I also was always the one to put the brakes on risky action.  My ex-husband would always push the boundaries of respectability so far that I felt required to reign things back.  It put me on edge and more reserved than I wanted to be.

To now have a partner that watches my back is incredible.  I feel more free to be wild than I ever have.  Mr. D and I took a rare lunch in the park the other day.  We had limited time from work and decided to take a snuggle in the park instead of food in a crowded restaurant.  We found a secluded spot and before I knew it we were in a hot embrace.  I needed him and I could see that he needed me too. He helped me onto a picnic table and pushed my dress up to taste me once again.   Not to be denied this time, he asked me if I was okay with this and I nodded yes.  He kept his eyes on the pathways around us while unzipping his pants and positioning me on the table’s bench.  He was inside immediately.  It was wild, swift, intense fucking. Life with Mr. D is most definitely broadening my sense of freedom.

Image courtesy of Pixabay through CC0 Public Domain

Ritual and Protocol

Sarah Ellis, Sept 5 2008

Mr. D and I are continuing to progress in our power exchange. I know Mr. D is going easy on me because of my current day-to-day life struggles and doesn’t want to push me over much.  I still ache to strain against the boundaries and push the envelope but there just has not been the devoted time we need together for those things to happen.  Heavy sigh.  Mr. D pointed out to me the other day that I am not patient.  Ask me to help you, I am the epitome of patience.  Make mistakes around me, you’ll find I’m very tolerant and I do my best to be understanding and gracious.  I am highly flawed, I try not to judge others if I can help it.  But with things I want, in relation to myself…progress, building my character, wanting Mr. D buried inside me…stuff like that, I’m horribly impatient. So, in regards to waiting patiently for Mr. D to ramp up our play…sooooo impatient…having difficulty….want to be a pushy, little, topping-from-the-bottom submissive. Ugh. But, I’ll be good.  I can do it.  I can give up my control…I think.

The other night I was reading a blog post about rituals and protocols.  Forgive me dear, blogging friend, but I can’t remember who you are.  Knock me on the head with a reminder, will you, and I’ll post a link back.  His post got me thinking about rituals and protocols.  To me, with my limited knowledge, they seem to be just the thing to help deepen the connection and the power exchange between a D/s couple.  I have only dealt with protocols and rituals in an online D/s relationship before now.  The Dominant I served made me sit at my desk, back straight, away from the back of the chair, legs together, and ankles touching for long minutes at a time.  It served to calm me.  It served to allow me to feel the presence of Another in control of me.  It was something I desperately needed at the time while my marriage fell apart, my house went into foreclosure and my life turned upside down.  Some days it was the only sanity I found.  It showed me that not every man was domineering, angry and mean.  It showed me what I truly wanted, a Dominant man who knew what I needed and took what I gave without destroying me in the process.  It was a very tempering lesson at the time.

After reading about rituals and protocols, I asked Mr. D if there was something in that respect I might do for him to deepen our connection.  We talked about it in text.  Just talking about it got us both so incredibly turned on.  At the end of the conversation, Mr. D gave me a ritual I must perform each time I arrive at his home.  I am to arrive, say hello to everyone there, be cordial then politely excuse myself to the bedroom where I am to kneel with my hands behind my back and await his pleasure and greeting.

I have had a day or two to think about performing this ritual.  I am very pleased to have a way to honor his Dominance over me and to show in a physical way that respect. As I’ve lain in bed each night I’ve thought about how I would kneel, how it would feel.  Would my knees get tired?  Can I get down and back up with grace?  I have rheumatoid arthritis which has affected my wrists.  Thankfully, it is well managed with meds but the old damage makes my wrists inflexible.  I thought, I’ll have to practice this beforehand.  Overthink, much?

The only time he’s requested me at his feet before was when he presented me with our D/s contract and asked if I would agree to follow it.  It was a beautiful moment.  Afterwards, I did not rise very gracefully and actually broke my shoe.  As a result I ended up wearing flip flops to a nightclub that night.  I don’t want a reenactment of that clumsiness to be my offering.

I’m very excited to begin this new part of our journey.

Image used through CC 3.0 with Attribution.  Photography by Marcus J. Ranum – http://www.ranum.comThe Gor Project – 1 by ~mjranum-stock