Archive | October 2012

Kind Correction

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I state up front that I am a newbie.  Sir and I have only been exploring D/s for eight months, and we are learning as we go.  I know that correction is part of this lifestyle.  I have…um….earned my share of it: corner time, writing, denial, and spanking.  Sir is strict.  However, He is also tender.  And He knows my and my heart.

I have read some about correction, discipline, and consequences, and I have to say I am so very thankful for Sir and for His particular temperament.  There have been times when He has expressed disappointment during our time together and He has said He was singing off for the night or turning in, and that we would not talk again until tomorrow.  There have been times that He has been very firm, with no room in His voice or demeanor for softness.  I have been spanked, I have been in the corner, I have been denied playtime with Him, I have cried tears over disappointing Him.

BUT

I have never been shunned.  Never been sent away not knowing when or if I would be allowed to return.  Truthfully, I cannot imagine such a thing.  I am not particularly high maintenance.  I do not get 
in a wad” if Sir has to work long hours and several days or so pass without there being much contact.  I don’t get miffed about things like that.  And Sir is understanding of me as well because I am a mother and I work.  But….if tonight He became displeased and told me, “maybe you will hear from ME in six months, girl,”  I must confess…….I am not sure I would have any desire to return if He DID call for me.  When someone has become completely open and vulnerable, to rip away support unilaterally for a long stretch of time……I am not sure I consider that correction.  I would come closer to considering it cruelty.

Am I just a newbie?  Possibly.  But I can say with certainty that a Dominant who used those types of shunning corrections would not want me for a submissive….and vice versa.  

There.  That is my inexperienced thought for the day 🙂

gift

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This is a gift

It was carefully selected

It was given a great cost

It required courage to offer it

Its wrapping, though simple, holds something unlike any other gift

It is given carefully

Thoughtfully

Selectively

And completely.

So why should it’s value

Be any less

Just because

I didn’t make you wander through a maze

To receive it?

Mist

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Hidden in the mist, waiting

The woman listens

Carefully

Silently

Until a voice is heard

Through the damp fog

She sheds her shroud

And walks forward

Courageously

He sees her form appear

As she stirs the clouds aside

And waits

For movement

For sound

For direction

And as she waits

Stillness

Silence

As he looks in another direction

And so she wraps herself again

And turns away

Walking back into the mist

And he only looks back

In time to see

Her retreating form disappear.

irresistible message

Sir: I need a good, quiet, whispering sub to call me…..

Now what submissive could resist that message? Especially when I know I will hear His voice saying, “good girl.”

sigh…….

Bathing Master

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Master was tired, and He needed to rest.  I knelt before Him.  He stroked my face lightly and said, “I am going to lie down, girl.  You will wake me at 6:00 and be ready to serve me.”

“Yes, Master,” I answered, tilting my head so that I enjoyed His caress of my cheek.  He stood up and left the room wordlessly.

A few minutes later I quietly entered the quiet room where He rested.  I picked up the clothing He had been wearing and took it from the room.  It smelled of Him.  I smoothed the pants and shirt, draped them over my arm along with the underwear and socks, and placed them in the washing machine along with a few other items needing to be washed.  As soon as Master woke I would begin the wash; I did not want the machine to wake Him.  I went to the kitchen and lifted the lid of the slow cooker.  The chicken was progressing nicely.  I set the table for two, complete with candles.

The first thing I did when I entered the bathroom was to examine myself in the mirror.  I brushed my hair until it fell into soft waves past my shoulders.  I brushed my teeth and splashed a bit of water on my face.  I took the small bottle of unscented lotion and spread some over my arms and legs so that they became soft and smooth.

Then I turned on the water.  I tested the temperature until I was satisfied that it was hot enough for Master’s liking.  I poured a small amount of the natural bath oil into the water, and while the tub filled, I gathered a soft cloth, my loofa gloves, gentle soap, clippers, and lotion.  I also took a large bowl from the closet and filled it with slightly hotter water from the sink.  I then grabbed two large towels from the linen shelf.  It was 5:56.

I entered Master’s room quietly.  For a moment or two I studied Him.  His face was relaxed, His mouth slightly open.  His soft white hair was a bit dissheveled on the pillow.  One arm was over the quilt and the other stretched out to the place where I slept when He allowed it.  His soft sleeping sound made me smile.  Then I ran fingers through my hair once more, assumed a position on my knees beside the bed, and spread my knees wide.  I brushed His face softly and said, “It is 6:00, Master.”

He awoke to find me on my knees, my head bowed.  I heard Him rise to a sitting position, then His feet appeared on the floor.

“Good girl.  And what have You prepared for me?”

I raised my head to look at Him.  “A bath, Sir, if it pleases You.”

“That would please me very much,” He replied.  He held out His hand and helped me to rise.  I followed behind Him as He walked into the bathroom.  He walked to the tub, sank into the water, and sighed, “Ahhhhh.  Bathe me, girl.”

I knelt beside the tub and began with Master’s face.  Using the soft cloth, I washed His cheeks and forehead gently.  He smiled at my touch.  I traced His lips and nose.  Then I added soap and washed His neck, His shoulders, His arms.  I leaned farther toward Him and washed His back, then shifted so that I could wash His chest and stomach.  I stood and entered the tub, facing Him.  I raised one of Master’s Legs and washed it gently with the cloth, followed by the other leg.  Then, blushing slightly, I reached for Master’s cock and rubbed it gently with the cloth.  Master looked at me intently and took the cloth from me.  I reached for Him again, caressing, massaging, stroking Him as He leaned back and closed His eyes, breathing deeply.  After  few minutes I stopped and put on the loofa gloves.  Master looked at me a bit uncertainly until I lifted His left foot out of the water.  I soaped my hand and washed His foot thoroughly, scrubbing the heel with my gloves.  Then I washed His other foot.

When Master was clean, I stepped out of the tub and grabbed one of the large towels.  He stepped out of the tub as well and stood as I dried Him, beginning with His face and working my way down His body. I was about to lay the towel aside, but He took it and then dried me.

“Would Master please sit?” I asked, pointing to the toilet seat covered with another plush towel.

He sat, and I placed His feet in the bowl of water.  Taking the clippers, I clipped His nails carefully.  I then dried His feet and slid the bowl aside.  I took each foot in turn, squirting lotion into my hand and massaging Master’s feet.  He sighed and sat back.  After spending time massging Him, I kissed the sole of each foot.

“I will get Master’s robe if He would like,” I said.  He caught my arm as I moved to stand, shaking His head.  I met His eyes, and they were dark.  He slid forward a bit on the seat and spread His legs, His hard cocke pointing at me.  He then took my chin and pulled me forward.

I took Master’s cock into my mouth and sucked. I swirled my tongue around the tip, tasting what had been oozing there. I move my head slowly, sucking, teasing, licking, listening to Master’s breath catch.  I flicked my tongue on his underside.  I savored Master, reveling in His taste and feel.  Then I felt His hands in my hair, and I stilled.  He held my head tightly and began thrusting into me.  He trusted hard, and I felt Him hitting the back of my throat.  Occasionally He would pause, the head of His cock filling that space in my throat, and I would gag.  Then He pulled back and began again.  I sucked harder, the insides of my cheeks pressed against His shaft.  Spittle dripped from my mouth, ran down my chin, and dripped onto my legs.  I felt Him increase the intensity, fucking my mouth harder and faster.  Then he slammed into me once more, and I felt His cock throb and shudder.  The hot spray hit the back of my throat, and I sucked greedily.  He pulsed once more, and I backed away just an inch so that I could taste Him on my tongue.  I sucked rhythmically, eliciting more throbs and pulses as He emptied into me.  Then we both stilled.  I held His come in my mouth for another moment before swallowing every drop.  Then I gently stroked His shaft with my lips until He relaxed.

Master released my head and patted my cheek.  He sat back, and I looked up at Him.  Smiling, He took each of my hands and kissed the palms.  Then He held them together in His and said, “Very good, girl.”

Reaching

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I cannot guess

Why my hands began to

Open

Of their own accord.

There was no encouragement,

No request,

No perceptible call.

And yet they reached,

Hoping to…

Something

Perhaps it was

The kindred pain

They they perceived.

Are they too worn?

To unrefined?

Are the arms,

The legs,

The neck,

The breasts….

To which they are attached

To marked and changed

With life?

Or does it have nothing to do

With my hands

Or their companions 

At all?

And why

Do they feel compelled

To reach

Again?