Thursday, April 23, 2009

Good girl.

In the end, there wasn't savagery. Which I must admit to regretting. If only a little. But not for long. Because although his visit was ever so short - could it really have been only 15 minutes? Surely it was longer than that - his visit...

His visit was a gift.
His visit was an honor.
His visit was a sign of approval.
His visit was a milestone.

He has been training me.
And today I showed what I had learned.

Today I knelt naked before him and with my hands I gave him pleasure.
It was the first time.
And I pleased him.
I pleased him and he called me a good girl and said I did well.

I am still elsewhere.

I floated though the afternoon in such a state of peace you would think I had been granted the most glorious orgasm. But there was no orgasm. And there was very little of all the other things he usually does to me.

The time was very short.
Lunchtime rendez-vous are usually a half hour.
This was half that.

Still. I met him naked at the door. He looked me over, turned me around, and ordered me down to the dungeon. I'm not sure I remember everything in the right order... I think first he ordered me down into position on the futon, and he flogged me a small amount. Not horribly painful, but enough eventually to make me scream. Then he ordered me up and pressed me into the wall, facing the wall, where he ground himself into me. Clothed. He is always clothed and I am always naked. He turned me around and pressed into me, pinching and twisting my nipple as I struggled to keep my eyes on his.

He kissed me.
The most glorious kisses in the world.
Truly, he has the most amazing skill at kissing,
even though it is all focused on his own pleasure.

Was it there that he sank his teeth into my neck?
Or later?
Or both times?
There is a mark.
A pair of red tooth marks, left by the beast.
I touch them.
It's sore underneath.
I'm glad.

Back on the futon for a short spanking. Was it then that he attached the chain around my neck? I can't remember. Or perhaps before he took me to the wall? There wasn't even time for the normally required recitation of a poem.

The chain.
When he clipped it around my neck
"This is when I feel most owned" I said.
A long chain, clipped around my neck, the other end in his hand.

But when he positioned me on hands and knees for the spanking, head down, butt up, he draped the chain down my back and down between my butt cheeks, pulling it under me so it pressed against my anus. It was cold. It felt as if he were cutting me with a knife as he pulled that cold hard chain down tight against my little virgin butt hole.

All these little things he did that pressed me further and further into my submissive place. Where I am all the time anyway when I am with him. But he made me feel very very owned and very very focused on serving and accepting and pleasing and suffering.

And obeying.

And then I felt more than saw his shirt come off and get tossed down on the futon. And then I knew. With no advance warning, I knew that this would be the day.

He sat down in the Eames chair.
Still clothed.
I knelt before him.
And I gave my eyes to his and tried to remember
everything I'd been taught.
And as I took him in my hand
as I gave him pleasure
it was as if his pleasure was flowing back through my hand into me
and I felt things I'd never felt before
and I went someplace I'd never been before
and afterwards he asked me if I'd cum
and I said "No"
and he said "But you were very close"
and I said "Yes."
But it wasn't just that,
it was more than that,
I was both channeling his own pleasure
and rising into and above ecstasy.
Because.
Because I was serving him.
Because I was giving him pleasure.
Because all that mattered was his pleasure,
because I was nothing,
because I was nothing but his,
I was nothing but his little whore,
and that felt like such a purely, joyful, loving thing to be.

It was probably the most intimate moment of my life.

I wrote him many messages this afternoon, first the required, post-visit reports, and then more and more as different visions of it all came to me. But in the end, I don't think I can describe it. Because I can't pin it down. I can't make it hold still so that I can examine and dissect it. There is just this joy, this floating high, this purity of service... the word "pure" keeps coming back to me...

My resources are inadequate. And there are things I won't write. Because really, it was very intimate. Intimate and exquisite and oh I do so hope I - we - don't have to wait so long until the next time. And that the next time there is more time. And that I will please him more and more as I am shaped to serve his needs.

I know who I am now.

And tonight I am allowed to cum.

Before I burst.

8 comments:

cutesy pah said...

You are a very good girl. Wonderfully written. Enjoy your sub space and orgasms.

hugs,
Daddy's cutesy pah

Nancy said...

Thank you so much for sharing this with us.
I felt every step of your time.. I love your eloquence and wish I had the same.
Enjoy the moments ~

mamacrow said...

oh WOW!!!! :::eyes popping out of socket, jaw on floor:::

mamacrow said...

(and cunt wet, just momentarily too shy to mention it)

Velvet said...

Wow. Very very strong emotion here. Very challenging and beautiful to read. Thank you.

baby girl said...

beautiful o.g. both the writing and the experience that inspired it. truly a gift to read.

happy orgasm!

Paul said...

OG, the gift of beauty that you give us honours your Demon Muse.
Love and warm hugs,
Paul.

oatmeal girl said...

Thank you, everyone. In many ways I wrote this for myself, to remember, to capture that very meaningful milestone. I think it took longer to write than to experience.

Even now, with this comment, as I think of that afternoon, of those minutes we shared, of the intimacy we shared, of the vulnerability we shared, I am filled with such warmth...

I just touched the spot on my neck where he bit me. Where the beast bit me. It is still sore.