Archive | August 2012

lesson in courage



Sir has decided to quit smoking.

When Sir and I began corresponding and then talking on the phone, I had no idea he smoked. In fact, until I met Him for the first time in person, I did not know He smoked.  He is so very health conscious, fit, and into nutrition, I just assumed He was not a smoker.  It was not a deal-breaker for me.  he was and is always very polite, never smokes inside, always brushes His teeth 🙂  And besides, by the time I actually met Him for real…I was so besotted that unless He had lit ME on fire I wouldn’t have cared anyway (smile).

But now, for various reasons including health, He has decided to quit.  I have no doubt that He is.  When He decides something, He does it.  Period.  However, He did tell me that He wasn’t sure what His moods would be during withdrawal and if He considered Himself volatile or too moody He might become a hermit for a few days here and there.  He has been a bit detached but not as much so as I thought.  he also made a comment that rings uncomfortably true.  This will be a good learning experience for me in courage.  The courage to ask for what I need.

There are varied reasons why I am not as “brave” about this as I should be.  Most of it has to do with past baggage I am learning to lay aside.  Part of it is my upbringing melding with my own growing understanding of submission, and how they do not always mesh.  My M.O. has always been…if I reach out and someone does not seem overly responsive, I back off.  I would not want to seem….needy/obnoxious/unladylike/stalkerish/etc.  And, well, let’s just say that in 8th grade I was grounded for a month for calling a boy.  In my house – the girl does not call the boy.  That is forward.  The BOY pursues.

When I first began reading about D/s – articles and learning sites, I remember reading in a few places that the submissive is to ask the Dominant for consideration.  Boy was I thankful Sir and I were already together.  I can’t imagine anything more mortifying than getting to know a Dominant enough to want to serve Him, asking for something so…intimate…and hearing…”eh, I don;t think so.”  

But I digress…….So Sir has not slept well and is somewhat detached.  He has not commented at all on the last few assignments I have sent Him nor the infraction I confessed.  I am not whining. I am not an attention hog.  But I find myself at that place.  Where I am a little hesitant to send Him the funny email about work or the mushy moment I had where I just wanted to tell Him how much I appreciate ______.  I realize the irony.  Just a day or two ago I posted about how much Sir has helped me to grow in this.  And He has. I just realized today when I pondered over whether to send Him a song I had found that I have more growing to do.  That I need more courage to put myself out there regardless – just because it is who I am.

Sigh….I just love growing pains.


the lady in though

A writer whose blog I follow, We’re All Mad In Here, posted this picture today, and I have looked at it repeatedly…



Something about her captivates me and makes me want to dig out the vintage black lace skirt from the back of my closet.  I love this.  This is what I would dress like all the time if it was practical.  Well, except when the southern belle part of me wears the gauzy white sundress and sips sweet tea in a field of wildflowers (sadly, I am not kidding). It is just another facet of that “love being feminine” thing.  But this woman has a depth..worldly wise but still tentative, deep in thought.  I want to know what she is writing.  What was that book?  The Feminine Mystique? Never read it so I may be taking that title completely out of context….but I like the idea of mystique.  I’m not sure I have mystique.  My heart seems to be attached firmly on my sleeve much of the time, though Sir would argue that it still take a bit of probing (no not that kind) to peel the many layers of “insert name here.”  Clearly, there is a difference between being expressive and effusive and….naked in every way.  I excel at the former.  The latter is a work in progress.

I think – no, I know – one of the many things that Sir has done for me is to help me shed fear.  To help me shed the baggage of a former life of…….hiding and apologizing.  Lots of people fear not being enough.  That was never really my fear.  My deepest fear was always of being…too much.  Too expressive, to honest, too forward, to emotional, too introspective.  There is a movie I like, The Divine Secrets of the Ya ya Sisterhood.  The old ladies are talking about Sida’s mother, and they say, “Your mother has always taken up all the space in the room.”  I fear being that way…even when I was a child who wanted to be a writer, actress, singer, painter, nurse, teacher, trapeze artist, ballerina.  Who acted on my first schoolgirl crush by talking him and kissing him on the playground (granted, I was only 6).

Sir has….opened me up.  He loves the tears, the rambling, the creative ideas bursting out, the bad puns, the philosophical discussion of books, the bad dancing, the southern graces ingrained from charm school, the dreams, the emoting, the sometimes “cheesy” email poems paying homage to His eyes or hands or….whatever.  I can be every silly, somber, thoughtful, spacey, corny, serious, loving-with-abandon part of myself with Him.  I have never – never – been able to be that way with anyone.  Ever.  No one.

He sent me a picture early in our exploration.  It was a picture of two masculine hands holding a tender sprout. He is a gifted gardener, and the metaphor was not lost on me.  He has helped me to blossom and bloom for the very first time.  I feel like that elegant, beautiful, deep woman in that picture….I FEEL the mystique.

And I love it.

the knock



She stands at the top step

Shifting her weight

Back and forth

Her fingers pull at the hem of her skirt

He breathing is shallow

She can feel the beating of her heart

The heels of her shoes

Seem fastened to the spot

Unable to take that last step

So that her hand is close enough

To the door

To knock

She rethinks


Wishes she was sure

Wonders if it is her place

To knock

If He knows she is

Waiting outside the door

And if that is why the light reveals

That it is partially open

Or perhaps He just

Forgot to close it

She feels the desire

To solve the mystery

Answer the question

Take the risk

And steps

Her hand inches away from the door


To knock….



It began last night when Sir sent me an instant message that simply said, “So what is my girl doing?”

“Just chatting with a subbie friend on facebook.”

After a few moments He indicated that He wanted to chat with me when I was finished.

“So tell me about this sub friend.  Has she been a submissive for long?  Does she have any insights?  What is she like?”

We chatted back and forth as I shared a bit about her, and I mentioned that she was in a poly relationship with a Master who had more than one submissive.  I commented that I wasn’t sure I could do what she does……sharing my Master with someone else.

And that is when the conversation turned to ……the threesome.

I said I couldn’t imagine it….to which Sir replied:

“and how was it you told me you responded to the threesome scene in the Megan Hart book, Dirty?”

For those of you who may not have read it, there is a very…..satisfying MFM threesome scene.  I blushed and remembered.  We chatted a bit more…Him drawing out the hypothetical fantasy, probing.  Then He told me he knew what my next writing assignment would be.  I smiled to myself imagining myself in the place of Hart’s character….

His assignment:  Write a scene in which I bring a woman I know enough to trust but not too well to Him, and the three of us play.

I love writing erotica, but I had a very hard time.  Normally I just begin typing.  This was different.  I kept imagining how I would really feel.  Finally, though, my imagination overtook my apprehension.  And this is what ensued…

(Note – the woman’s name is fictitious)

I knocked on the door a bit nervously.  I ran my fingers through my hair as I heard the clipped footsteps, and when Butterfly opened the door I smiled.  She looked nice….but not too nice.  For some reason it made me relax because I knew she was a bit nervous too, and aware of the dynamics.

We didn’t talk much for the first few minutes. Then Butterfly turned to me and put her hand on my leg.

“I am doing this so that You can please your Sir.  Because you trust me and I trust you.  He is YOUR Sir.  Everything will be fine.”

I knew she was trying to reassure me that she had no designs on my Master.  I wasn’t worried about that.  I was just wondering about the unknown.  But excited about the idea of pleasing Sir in such a….unique way.  And I knew that He knew that I trusted Him implicitly.

Master opened the door for us and embraced me as we walked in, reaching down to squeeze my ass and nipping my ear.  “I’ll take care of you, girl,” He whispered.  A shiver ran through me and my belly clinched.

The bedding was pulled back, and Master had arranged several toys, along with some soft rope, on the bedside table.  There was wine with three glasses on the dresser, and music was playing from His ipod.  Butterfly took off her jacket and walked around the room.  She picked up the wine and asked, “Who would like a glass?”  Both Sir and I said, “I would,’ at the same time and then laughed.  Butterfly poured three glasses, and we all clinked them together and said, “to a wild night.”  I sipped nervously and Sir winked at me.  Butterfly looked at us both and said, “if you’ll excuse me, I need the restroom for a few minutes.”

As soon as the door clicked closed, Master took the glass from my hand and placed it on the dresser.  He grabbed my hair with both fists and pulled my face to His, crushing me with his mouth.  One hand released my hair and roamed over my body, under my blouse, then pulling up my skirt to cup my pussy.  He roughly pulled aside the panties and inserted a finger.  He sank His teeth into my shoulder and made His way up my neck to my ear.  “Mine,” he growled.  “Yes….” I breathed, and the apprehension melted away, replaced by arousal that left me wet and shaky.

Sir stepped back and surveyed me for a moment. “Strip.”

I complied, taking my time sliding the skirt down my legs so that my ass jutted out seductively.  On my way back up I ran my hands up my legs, stopping at my pussy to stroke it for just a moment through my panties. I heard Master’s low groan.  I slid them off as well and stepped out of them.  I fumbled with the top two buttons on my sheer blouse, then pulled it over my head and let it fall on top of the skirt.  I reached back to unclasp the bra, and as It fell to the floor I kneaded my breasts and looked into Master’s eyes.  Then, without a word, I knelt, spread my knees as far apart as possible, place my hands on them, and looked at the floor.  I heard Sir walk over to me, and then He bent down, putting the collar around my neck.  His hand encircled my neck and squeezed lightly.  “Mine,” He said again.

I heard the bathroom door open, and Butterfly cleared her throat as she walked back into the room. She was wearing a simple black robe, which was open to reveal her skin.  Her breasts were slightly larger than mine, her pussy completely shaved.  We were approximately the same shape and weight, though she was slightly shorter.  her nipples were a bit larger and darker.  For some reason it surprised me that looking at an almost naked woman, kneeling before Sir, would arouse me. Master took my hand and raised me to my feet, and then I watched as He stripped His clothing off, revealing His already hard cock.  He took my hand and placed it around His erection, covering my hand with his.  I squeezed slightly and then released Him.

Master led me to the bed and placed me in the center.  He motioned for Butter to sit behind me.  “Touch yourself, girl,” He told me.  I obeyed, caressing my folds, sliding my fingers up and down, pressing my clit with the heels of my hand.  He watched intently.  I inserted one finger, then two, and slid them in and out.  My hips move slightly and I moan.  Master walked around me and whispered something to Butter, then I felt two feminine hands come around me and begin to knead my breasts.  A shock ran straight from my breasts to my groin, making me whimper.  I closed my eyes and fuck edmyself, then slid my fingers out and pressed them into my protruding clit, grinding against them.  Butter took her thumbs and index fingers and pinched my nipples, stretching them out from my body and then letting go so that they snap back.  God, it feels…..I took my clit between two fingers and pulled at it, grunting and panting. I felt Butter’s breath against my neck as she continued working my breasts, and I could feel her nipples against my back.  iI was confusing and strange and new and completely hot.  I opened my eyes to look at Master,and His eyes burned me.  He was standing, watching, stroking His hard cock.  His eyes were no longer blue – it had been swallowed up in black.  His gaze sent a shudder through me, and I felt all of the ache focus just behind my hand.  My belly and pussy clenched in preparation –

“Stop,” His voice said firmly.  I stopped, panting and bereft, and Butter’s hands left my breasts.  “Your turn, girl.”

Master moved me so that I was seated with my legs wide.  He motioned for Butterfly to sit back with her shoulders against my belly.  Sir sat on the edge of the bed and waited.  I began by massaging her breasts gently.  They felt a little different from mine.  I scooted a little closer and kneaded more firmly, then pulled on her nipples as she had done to mine.  They lengthened and hardened.  I placed my palms on them and then squeezed, feeling them against the center of my hand.  it is so different, kneading breasts that are not my own.  I pinched again and twist,ed and Butterfly groaned.  My groin clenched again.

“Touch her,” Master commanded.  For a moment I did not know what He meant.  I am already touching her.  Then I looked down and saw her shaven pussy.  I blushed and swallowed, then I tentatively reached down and stroked the outer folds.  Her hips reacted, and I pulled my hands back.

“Don’t stop, girl.”

I reached out again and this time parted the folds with my middle finger.  She was almost as wet as I was.  Her skin was smooth.  I closed my eyes again and felt her.  She felt a little different from me.  I leaned farther and parted her with two fingers.  I could smell her aroma, a bit muskier than mine.  I knew Sir was watching, so I smiled and inserted a finger.  It felt a bit awkward, but Butter sighed and moved her hips again.

“Like this, girl,” Master said, and he shifted so that he was sitting over us both.  I sat back and watched Him.  He took His index and middle finger with his palm facing up and began fucking her with them.  After a moment I felt her body tighten, and I knew he had found that sweet spot inside her.  I watched her belly flex and clench, and I watched Sir’s fingers move in and out of her, growing wet.  I reached around to her shoulders and began massaging them.  Her hips moved in sync with Master’s hand, and I could see the intensity in her face as she came close to the edge.  Sir withdrew His hand and began fucking with the other.  He reached His fingers toward my face, and I knew He meant for me to suck them.  After just a hint of hesitation, I did.  Her taste was a bit different from mine too.  Sucking Sir’s fingers made me swell even more.  He looked at me and then at Butterfly’s pussy with a question in His eyes.  I nodded, completely comfortable and secure.  I watched, holding my breath, as Master knelt at the end of the bed and pulled Butterfly’s legs toward Him, then lowered His face and licked her pussy.  He looked up at me again, questioning.  I rose up onto my knees, spread my legs, and began to touch myself again.  He began sucking and licking.  The sounds made me moan.  I stroked myself and pulled my clit and moved my hips, getting lost in what he was doing and what I was doing.  I looked briefly down at Butterfly’s face, and her eyes were closed tightly.  Her hand gripped the mattress pad.  I slid my finger out of my cunt and slipped it into her mouth.  She sucked and then bucked against Sir’s mouth.  He looked up and saw what I was doing and groaned, then He began sucking Butterfly’s clit in earnest.  She whimpered and clenched and cried out.

Then she came, and I watched.    She grimaced and cried out something unintelligible. Her stomach rolled, and wetness spurted up into Master’s face.  He slid two fingers into her cunt and pressed them inside.  Her legs jerked over and over, and I could see her lips quiver.  She grunted and clenched her thighs around Sir’s hand, and wetted it again.  It was fascinating and arousing.  I wondered what I looked like when I came.  After another moment or two she stilled and breathed heavily.  I stroked her hair and smiled at her when she looked up at me.  “God Almighty,” she mouthed, and we both giggled.  Master stood up and washed His hands and face at the sink, then He brought Butterfly a glass of water.  She sipped it and then excused herself again.

“Wow,” I breathed as Master pulled me into His lap.  “That was hot.”

“Was?” He looked at me darkly.  “girl, we aren’t done.”  He walked across the room to His bag and retrieved a camera.  Butterfly came out of the restroom and smiled at both of us.  Sir handed her the camera and said, “I want some pictures of my girl.”

Master picked up the rope and tied my wrists together, crossed against each other behind my back.  Then He stretched the rope and tied my ankles so that my legs were bent and my feet were pulled up to my hips.  He laid me on my back, and it arched as my ass rested on my hands, raising it slightly.  I heard the click of the camera, but before I could look over toward Butterfly, Master had crawled onto the bed with me, and His head sank between my legs.  Without pretense He licked my folds, separating them with His tongue, plunging inside my cunt and devouring me with His mouth.  I moaned and suppressed a sob. He slid a finger inside me and sucked my swollen clit, then added a second….then a third.  He hit the sweet spot inside me over and over with his fingers and sucked my clit into His mouth over and over until I felt as if I would turn inside out with need and pleasure.  I tried to clench but I was spread too wide, bound and helpless.  He continued fucking and sucking, teasing the entrance to my ass with His thumb.  I felt my face grow white hot, my insides curl painfully, everything focusing on His hands and mouth and rising…..and then Master stepped away.  I almost began to cry.

He untied me and turned me over, massaging my wrists and ankles and legs.  I lay there trembling as He motioned for Butterfly.  He laid me on the bed so that my head was hanging off, my neck bent back..  Butterfly sat on the edge of the bed and stroked my hair for a moment.  And then Master was standing by the bed, His cock pointed at me.  “Suck girl,” and He plunged his erection into my mouth.  I sucked as He fucked the back of my throat over and over, stopping only when my gagging became constant.  I reached out and grabbed His thighs and devoured Him, tasting Him and relishing the feeling of His balls slapping against my nose.  His hands gripped my breasts roughly, and I heard Him panting and grunting as I sucked as hard as I could against His thrusts.  two hands spread my legs again, and I felt a warm tongue on my pussy, sliding up and down fast and hard.  I felt wild, my tongue wrapped around Master’s cock, His hands brusing my tits, Butterfly’s tongue plunging and sliding between my folds.  Saliva ra out of the sides of my mouth and into my hair, my fingernails dug into Sir’s thighs, my toes grabbed at the mattress as Butterfly pressed her face against me as hard as she could and began sucking at my wetness.  before I could prepare, I felt that need for release, and as she shifted her mouth, a pressure filled spray from my cunt doused her face. She sucked the top of my mound and another spray wet the sheets.  I screamed something at Sir and clawed at His legs.  He pinched and twisted my nipples with such force that I nearly came off the bed, and he pulled until He DID life me off the bed.  His head hit the back of my throat, muffling my cries, and on cue Butterfly grabbed my ass and took my clit between her lip-sheathed teeth and pulled.

My cunt exploded in come and convulsions.  They came from deep inside and shook me.  I felt the walls of my cunt slam into each other and my clit throb over and over.  I came hard, and when I bucked against Butterly’s mouth she released me.  Master squeezed my tits and slid out of me, and before I could come down He was pulling me up, pulling my legs off the bed, and bending me over.  He fucked my with His fingers and massaged my asshole, sliding His thumb in again.  I writhed, and He stilled me.  Then in one thrust He filled my ass with His cock.  I cried out and buried my face in the mattress.  He fucked hard and fast, taking me.  I began to build again, never really having relented, and I both craved and feared another release.  I felt a shadow over me, and I saw that Butterfly was on all fours above me.  I felt Master bend down, and I knew He was tasting her again.  One of His hands released my thigh, and I felt something smooth and hard against my clit.  The egg began vibrating against it, and I moaned and whimpered.  The tension and ache were unbearable, but I was terrified of the release.  I heard Butterfly moan, and my belly clenched again.  Master’s cock was relentless.  It was hell and heaven, and I knew He was not going to stop until I was shattered.  I whimpered again and heard my voice say….”Master….please…..”

He pressed the vibrator harder against me and slammed into me once more as He growled, “Come!”

And I did.  I sobbed and wailed and convulsed.  I felt His heat fill me, and my body jerked.  My cuntand clit throbbed against the vibrator, and my ass clenched around Master’s cock, pulling the liquid from Him and causing Him to groan and growl.  The spasms racked me, painful and wonderful and too much to bear.  I shivered and began to heave with gutteral sobs.

In an instant, Butterfly was no longer above me, and Master pulled me onto the floor and into His lap.  I crumpled there, limp and crying and clinging to Him.  He kissed my hair and stroked my head and rocked me, shushing softly.  I let the sobs wring me out, and then I just let Him rock me, feeling as if I was watching myself, outside of my body, hearing nothing, only feeling.  I am not sure how long He held me that way.  But after a long time I was vaguely aware of movement, and Sir laid me on the bed, propped up next to me, and covered us with a blanket.  Butterfly brought Him a glass of water, and he held up my head and helped me drink. Then he pulled me to Him and curled around me.  Butterfly, stroked my head and smiled, then told Sir she would be in a room down the hall if we needed anything.  I heard the door open and close, but I couldn’t raise my head.  Sir’s arms tightened around me, and I sighed.  I felt His mouth against my ear.

“Good girl,” he whispered.  “very good girl.”

“Master,” I tried to respond.

“Shhhhh,” He said kissing my ear,  “I know, girl.  Sleep.”

And so I did.



I send my best thoughts to those who are facing the brunt of Isaac today, and I hope that they remain safe.

That being said….I am watching the sky, aching for it to open up and drench us.  We are out of its worst path, but I am hoping that we will get a few strong storms.  I love storms.  I love watching the wind bend the trees, hearing the thunder, watching the branches of lightning attack the sky.  

There is a scene in the movie, Twister, that always strikes me.  The two main characters are in a field under a small bridge after having tried to outrun a tornado.  As the tornado approaches and the truck shakes, Helen Hunt’s character cannot help but crawl forward, fixated on the tornado.  She cannot take her eyes off of it, and Bill Paxton’s character has to pull her back in to safety.  He thinks she is crazy 🙂  I understand her.

I have wondered why storms fascinate me this way.  I think I realized this morning exactly why.  it is there power and their mystery.  As much as we know about science and meteorology and weather…..we still don’t fully understand storms.  For the past week the meteorologists here have flip flopped about the path of Isaac, who would be affected, how we would be affected.  We can see their power, but they are still a mystery.  And mystery intrigues me.  Things that are easy to know do not hold my interest nearly as well as things that are multi-layered.

And so I wait, looking out the window.  The branches are beginning to bend.  it is a delicious impatience. And I have no control over when the rain and thunder will begin.  But I am ready for it.

I have to wonder what this says about me as a submissive.


Can it be prevented?

The errant thoughts,

The hollow stomach,

The faceless dreams,

The fantasies without rhyme or reason.

I look into the mirror and shake my head.

Why can I never see it coming?

It will never be real,

But still it captivates.

To many Austens

And Brontes

And musings of “Anne with an E”

Nothing to do now

But wait for it to pass

And blush

And write

And clamp my hand over my mouth

So as not to let it