The sadist loves that word.
Struggling.
He loves to know that I'm struggling.
Struggling with a poem.
Struggling for air.
Struggling against the pain.
Struggling against my love.
Struggling against my love when it's love for him. He takes a sadist's pleasure and a narcissist's satisfaction from my love for him. It's another chain with which to bind me. Food for his confidence.
But that hasn't been the problem this week. My demon muse has been bound by chains of his own, the chains of his life, and hasn't had much time for me. There were few protective reminders that I am his, that I have work to do, exercises to practice to prepare me to serve his carnal desires. He allowed me to write for him once - over the weekend I think, I can't really remember, my mind has been working so badly.
The sadist isn't the only demon in my life.
There are others... thoughts... emotions...
trolls, hiding beneath the bridges of
my brain and my heart, waiting
to leap out at me. Waiting
to startle me. Waiting to
make me lose my balance.
I lost my balance this week
and I almost drowned.
Maybe it was the changing of the seasons, causing the earth to shift on its axis, leading me to lose my footing. Certainly the cats were acting strangely, fighting fiercely, growling and hissing and then maintaining an aura of wariness when they joined each other on what I foolishly once thought was a chair I had bought for myself.
Perhaps it was a manic spell. Except that I was too depressed for that, with a fragile balloon of sadness and tears nesting just beneath my throat.
Maybe it was just my broken heart.
Nothing more than that.
A broken heart demanding attention.
I wanted so badly to write him. I wanted to write him and say that I missed him desperately (bad idea) and that I hoped he was doing well (maybe ok) and now my glasses are fogging up and it's becoming hard to see the screen and there were things I wanted to share with him, such as the outcome of the work of the committee I was on and the clever April Fool's spoof that Gmail posted yesterday.
I struggled.
I struggled against temptation.
I struggled against temptation
with few words from my owner
to reel me back to sanity.
In the end, I couldn't resist. But I didn't completely fall. I knew that if I wrote him he wouldn't answer but would himself be thrown off kilter and I do/did/who-knows love him and want to give him peace.
So I went back to craigslist.
To craigslist in his city.
In his part of his city.
And I left a note in a hollow tree.
I stuck a note in a bottle
and threw it out to sea.
I wrote a very short post, w4m, with a name in the subject line that he would know was for him. And a short quote from a book, with a number, an age, altered to make it refer to him.
He didn't respond.
He probably hasn't seen it.
Later, I realized that if I really want him to see I should put it in Rants & Raves, which I know he reads. But I put it in w4m. Just in case...
He didn't respond. But a small handful of other men did. It was clearly much too esoteric to land a big haul, even in a city that size.
Some of the answers I ignored. A few were from men who seemed nice and/or intelligent and/or interesting, so I was honest and explained that the post was a message for one man, that I was suffering from a broken heart, and that I lived outside our nation's capital. I had an interesting conversation with one man, eventually discovering that we have a common interest, at which point I referred him to FetLife. It's amazing and sad how many married people are silently nursing their secret needs.
Another man turned out to live just a couple of hours south of here. He is smart, a writer, intriguing, having grown up abroad, and somewhat secretive. Of course, it turns out he's married but living apart from his wife. And eventually the talk was all of sex (no, he's not kinky) and then he was wanting to make plans for the weekend, and then he was acting like a child who couldn't accept the idea that this weekend was to be MY weekend, I had earned it over the last month of meetings and interviews for my committee, and no, it wouldn't be enough for me to have Saturday and then he would come up and spend the rest of the weekend in bed. "Now, Mommy! I want it NOW!!" Men are such babies...
So I wrote to men during the day yesterday as I fought the grief and longing and struggled with love and loss of concentration, which makes me think it was largely hormones, because I was dropping things and bumping into things and struggling with a headache, and finally when I came back to work after lunch home with the cats I drove the car head on into one of the supporting posts in the underground parking garage.
Not on purpose.
And not very fast.
But you know what cars are like these days.
It's not too bad. I was going very slowly. I didn't report it to insurance because I have a big deductible and then they raise your rates anyway until, it seems, you've covered everything they paid for the repairs. I'll take it over to my mechanic to check for internal injuries but mainly I'll just live with it.
Still.
I'm pissed with myself.
I drive into things every so often.
I lose focus.
And I don't have stereoscopic vision.
I need a chauffeur.
The kind Memphis Minnie was after.
One who won't drive anyone around town but me.
I lose focus.
I mess up.
But at least I didn't write the philosopher.
Not yet.
And now the cats are friends again. They're both in the chair, curled up together in the chair, Ketzel having given Marko a loving and very focused bath with her kitty tongue.
They always do eventually make up.
Showing posts with label philosopher writes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label philosopher writes. Show all posts
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Thursday, December 25, 2008
"Trust this special connection"
From me to the philosopher (a Libra), one year ago today:
A year later, yesterday:
Finally, from the NY Times review of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, which I saw today and liked very much:
I don't know what to think any more.
I don't know what to do.
In some ways I could see us living a few blocks apart, with him as a straight, asexual version of the gay best friend. We would hang out together, watch DVDs, make meals, work cryptic crossword puzzles, always there, always thinking of each other, always looking after each other, but separated by an emotion-sparing naturally-extruded protective armor.
After all, he did tell me he was risk-averse.
There will probably always be something, some reason why it can't work, with me or anyone else. If it's not distance or dissertation it will be food or sex or BDSM (too much or too little), or she'll be fine on all counts and then will let slip that she really loves all three Godfather movies.
Is he happy?
Is he content?
If I do really love him (and who knows by now?), shouldn't I just let him become the confirmed old bachelor he wants to be? He's a big boy, he knows his own comfort level, and if intimacy is too much of a challenge then fine. Why should he live any way other than he wants to?
Because it's a goddamn waste!
For some reason, Dr. G (my psychopharmacologist) and M (my best female friend) seem to think it will turn out all right in the end. This is just a stage in our relationship, they say, it's good to have this time developing our friendship. But I'm losing faith. I'm getting worn out. I'm tempted by visions of begging the fiend for forgiveness and crawling back, ready to be content with the little scraps of time he can spare for me. I didn't like that. I hate getting the cake crumbs that are left after all the more important people get fed. At least with the philosopher I know that he IS thinking about me, that I do have some sort of place in his life. I just don't know exactly what that is. But I do know he has already checked this blog twice today.
This is probably one of those posts that I should leave unpublished.
But there's nothing much left to lose. So here it is.
They always tell you not to try to change someone.
Thinking I can persuade him or guilt-trip him into taking the risk of a relationship which he kept trying to avoid and then trying to flee from pretty much the beginning - that's just plain stupid. I need to be grateful for what we had, for whatever is left of it, and keep my tears to myself.
I need to stop babbling.
I need to go to bed.
Maybe I wrote about objectification yesterday because with objectification comes numbness.
Excuse me. I'm going to run down to the 7-11 and pick up a bottle of water from the river Lethe.
je te jure... i don't make this stuff up. i just pass it on...
LIBRA (Sept 23 - Oct 23)
You're complex. Not everyone can
understand you on all of the levels
you want to be understood. But a
certain kindred soul will be your
rock. Trust this special connection.
A year later, yesterday:
me: I'm pretty much alone. [ . . . ] I don't actually have a ton of people I see. I'm alone much of the time. I need someone to love me, but this time of the year I guess I'm not all that lovable. And I'm probably too much of a pain in the ass the rest of the year to be lovable then, either.
I need someone to hold me and distract me from the dark. Not gonna happen.
him: You are physically alone in that your friends are not nearby. But you are part of a large and intimate village, who loves you.
So stop moping you brat.
me: yes, sir.
[she wrinkles her nose and smiles ruefully]
they really are being nice to me, aren't they...
and you have your family.
him: Very nice. Almost as nice as you deserve.
And I have my family.
me: maybe in some ways that's all you need... your family...
and the bdsm... in your head... but maybe nowhere else...
[just deleted a whole bunch of stuff...]
him: Is that pouting?
me: no.
i don't know.
i don't think so.
it's grief.
it's regrets.
it's trying to not feel like i'm just not good enough.
or that i always do something wrong.
i'd rather believe that you're not suited to being with anyone than that you didn't want to be with me.
him: Well, perhaps you're right. I don't know. I'm nearly forty and single, without ever having had a long term relationship. You do the math.
Finally, from the NY Times review of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, which I saw today and liked very much:
Their love is uniquely perfect and enduring. At the same time, like any other love — like any movie — it is shadowed by disappointment and fated to end.
I don't know what to think any more.
I don't know what to do.
In some ways I could see us living a few blocks apart, with him as a straight, asexual version of the gay best friend. We would hang out together, watch DVDs, make meals, work cryptic crossword puzzles, always there, always thinking of each other, always looking after each other, but separated by an emotion-sparing naturally-extruded protective armor.
After all, he did tell me he was risk-averse.
There will probably always be something, some reason why it can't work, with me or anyone else. If it's not distance or dissertation it will be food or sex or BDSM (too much or too little), or she'll be fine on all counts and then will let slip that she really loves all three Godfather movies.
Is he happy?
Is he content?
If I do really love him (and who knows by now?), shouldn't I just let him become the confirmed old bachelor he wants to be? He's a big boy, he knows his own comfort level, and if intimacy is too much of a challenge then fine. Why should he live any way other than he wants to?
Because it's a goddamn waste!
For some reason, Dr. G (my psychopharmacologist) and M (my best female friend) seem to think it will turn out all right in the end. This is just a stage in our relationship, they say, it's good to have this time developing our friendship. But I'm losing faith. I'm getting worn out. I'm tempted by visions of begging the fiend for forgiveness and crawling back, ready to be content with the little scraps of time he can spare for me. I didn't like that. I hate getting the cake crumbs that are left after all the more important people get fed. At least with the philosopher I know that he IS thinking about me, that I do have some sort of place in his life. I just don't know exactly what that is. But I do know he has already checked this blog twice today.
This is probably one of those posts that I should leave unpublished.
But there's nothing much left to lose. So here it is.
They always tell you not to try to change someone.
Thinking I can persuade him or guilt-trip him into taking the risk of a relationship which he kept trying to avoid and then trying to flee from pretty much the beginning - that's just plain stupid. I need to be grateful for what we had, for whatever is left of it, and keep my tears to myself.
I need to stop babbling.
I need to go to bed.
Maybe I wrote about objectification yesterday because with objectification comes numbness.
Excuse me. I'm going to run down to the 7-11 and pick up a bottle of water from the river Lethe.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Scaramouche
Speak to me of spanking began life as a craigslist post. When in desperation, kitten turns to craigslist. The philosopher had tried to break up with me yet again. In truth, he HAD broken up with me. I merely forestalled the end by offering a summer of silence to give him the peace and freedom from distraction that he felt he needed to get back to work on his dissertation.
I was distraught. I was panicked. I was desolated and angry and frustrated. So I thought I'd fish for someone to amuse me while I waited for the scant chance that we'd put it all back together on Labor Day. And if the unthinkable happened, maybe I'd have someone in the wings waiting to comfort and spank me.
The responses were the usual mix. There are always those who don't read the instructions, who think that all they have to do is call me names, or sound tough, or sound pathetic, or crook their index finger, and I'll come trotting over for a spanking and a fucking. There were those who sounded interesting enough to merit a reply, and a couple of those earned correspondences that ran maybe a couple of weeks or so. Motorcycle Man's response stood out. He seemed to get what it was all about, and he did get to spank and fuck me.
And then there was Scaramouche.
His writing made me stop in my tracks.
How does one talk about it?
How does one describe the thrill of pleasure as the cane whips through the air, a few practice swings before the cruel work begins?
How does one explain the sensation, not anger, but certainly not kindness, that flashes through one's head as flesh is struck and marked?
How does one relate the deep satisfaction felt as tears are dried and sobs are comforted, and the cruelty ends and the kindness begins. . .
One doesn't.
One merely acts.
--
Scaramouche
Not just a good reply.
An amazing reply.
Writing that cut like the cane
and soothed like a hand stroking my head.
An insight into a sadist's soul.
I wrote back so fast I didn't have time to think. To listen. To know...
I wrote:
ah...
perfect.
the whistle of the cane through the air
the tension before the burning pain
the gasp, the scream, the moan
swollen tissues, humiliation,
seeping passion in response to cruelty.
i felt it all.
all but the pain
and without the stripes as
a souvenir of joy.
thank you.
you brought it all back.
(and Scaramouche yet, wielding a cane instead of a sword. very cute indeed. back in college when i was a theatre major, i acted in a costume drama, wearing a dress with a tight bodice, breasts pushed in and up, nearly flowing over the top. it felt amazing. a corset would be lovely, i think...)
my eyes were starting to open, but my vision was still fogged.
and then it started to nag at me.
a hint of recognition.
a fear of what i might have done.
until finally, 28 hours later, i wrote to Scaramouche again:
odd... reading over what you wrote... it reminds me of the man i've lost... might have lost... probably lost... he would have appreciated the name and the e-mail address, i think... and the scene you describe seems so familiar... it makes me sad.
it's a weird game i'm playing, writing to other people because i can't write to the only one i really want. practicing in case i really do have to move on. testing the waters, trying to console myself that at least i can get people to write back to me.
an odd sort of comfort. and it just keeps bringing me back to what i had. and somehow, you wrote as if you had been there with us.
I never heard from Scaramouche again.
Until last night when, in the course of a 48-minute phone call, the philosopher admitted that yes, he was Scaramouche. And he had recognized my style as well.
We just couldn't say goodbye.
It's not really like the old song. He didn't come back and kiss me. But I do have faith in the friendship. I feel as if we are again curled up on the couch with crossword puzzles and tea, in deep perfect companionship. We created something beautiful, and I have full faith that it will last.
And I really should have known from the second sentence.
Because there is no one like him.
I was distraught. I was panicked. I was desolated and angry and frustrated. So I thought I'd fish for someone to amuse me while I waited for the scant chance that we'd put it all back together on Labor Day. And if the unthinkable happened, maybe I'd have someone in the wings waiting to comfort and spank me.
The responses were the usual mix. There are always those who don't read the instructions, who think that all they have to do is call me names, or sound tough, or sound pathetic, or crook their index finger, and I'll come trotting over for a spanking and a fucking. There were those who sounded interesting enough to merit a reply, and a couple of those earned correspondences that ran maybe a couple of weeks or so. Motorcycle Man's response stood out. He seemed to get what it was all about, and he did get to spank and fuck me.
And then there was Scaramouche.
His writing made me stop in my tracks.
How does one talk about it?
How does one describe the thrill of pleasure as the cane whips through the air, a few practice swings before the cruel work begins?
How does one explain the sensation, not anger, but certainly not kindness, that flashes through one's head as flesh is struck and marked?
How does one relate the deep satisfaction felt as tears are dried and sobs are comforted, and the cruelty ends and the kindness begins. . .
One doesn't.
One merely acts.
--
Scaramouche
Not just a good reply.
An amazing reply.
Writing that cut like the cane
and soothed like a hand stroking my head.
An insight into a sadist's soul.
I wrote back so fast I didn't have time to think. To listen. To know...
I wrote:
ah...
perfect.
the whistle of the cane through the air
the tension before the burning pain
the gasp, the scream, the moan
swollen tissues, humiliation,
seeping passion in response to cruelty.
i felt it all.
all but the pain
and without the stripes as
a souvenir of joy.
thank you.
you brought it all back.
(and Scaramouche yet, wielding a cane instead of a sword. very cute indeed. back in college when i was a theatre major, i acted in a costume drama, wearing a dress with a tight bodice, breasts pushed in and up, nearly flowing over the top. it felt amazing. a corset would be lovely, i think...)
my eyes were starting to open, but my vision was still fogged.
and then it started to nag at me.
a hint of recognition.
a fear of what i might have done.
until finally, 28 hours later, i wrote to Scaramouche again:
odd... reading over what you wrote... it reminds me of the man i've lost... might have lost... probably lost... he would have appreciated the name and the e-mail address, i think... and the scene you describe seems so familiar... it makes me sad.
it's a weird game i'm playing, writing to other people because i can't write to the only one i really want. practicing in case i really do have to move on. testing the waters, trying to console myself that at least i can get people to write back to me.
an odd sort of comfort. and it just keeps bringing me back to what i had. and somehow, you wrote as if you had been there with us.
I never heard from Scaramouche again.
Until last night when, in the course of a 48-minute phone call, the philosopher admitted that yes, he was Scaramouche. And he had recognized my style as well.
We just couldn't say goodbye.
It's not really like the old song. He didn't come back and kiss me. But I do have faith in the friendship. I feel as if we are again curled up on the couch with crossword puzzles and tea, in deep perfect companionship. We created something beautiful, and I have full faith that it will last.
And I really should have known from the second sentence.
Because there is no one like him.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Almost...
the last e-mail exchange before fantasy became reality.
the "lumpy odalisque" i refer to is the one we feature on this blog. the day before, i had been fretting over his coming to the door and finding this lumpy old redhead standing there. he had refused to allow me to send him a picture, and i was so afraid of seeing a look of disappointment on his face. but when i wept over being lumpy, he sent a new message with but 2 words: "Like this?" and the odalisque painting i then adopted as an alter ego.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Thursday, 2 August 2007
Less than 24 hours now kitten. . .
- -
mmm...
i was so focused going downtown, and in my meeting, and then i come home, and you call me kitten, and the convulsions start...
when i was there i stopped to talk with some friends, and told 2 of them how you sent me that picture of the lumpy odalisque. they were blown away. it was the sweetest, kindest, most sensitive thing you could possibly have done. your actions belie your fierce domly persona... ;-)
or maybe it's having this outlet for your evil side that enables you to be so sweet and sensitive.
in any case, i am grateful.
and my cunt is screaming!
- -
Kitten. . .I want you in bed very early tonight. . .and I have to be in bed early. . .I'm getting up soooooooooo early tomorrow, and you know how your master likes to sleep in. . .
So you may as well get undressed now. . .
NOW!
- -
what!! but master i have so much to do! i'm sitting here on the floor of the dungeon with a huge box of papers, sorting and throwing out, rather than just shoveling them off the dining room table and losing everything for 2 years.
just because YOU have to get up at the crack of dawn doesn't mean *I* have to. tho i AM planning on getting up at 7 so i can get stuff done...
tho i don't suppose there's any reason why i can't be naked while i sort papers...
so ok, i'll send this message and take my clothes off.
grumble grumble... you're just trying to show how strict you can be because i called you sweet and sensitive, aren't you... you're afraid i'll spoil your reputation as a mean and nasty master.
pout...
- -
Yes kitten. . . do your chores naked. . . and imagine me standing over you with the cane. . . looking for the slightest imperfection to chastise. . .
- -
[whimper]
- -
No whimpering, kitten. . .
Chores!
- -
yes, sir!
;-)
when are you getting up tomorrow?
and what did you tell your brother?
(and what did he say...?)
- -
I left a message for him. . . he'll get back to me.
I am getting up very early. . .probably before six. . .the bus leaves at 10:00, but I have to claim my ticket and check my bag an hour before. . .I want to be at penn station by 8:00, to give myself plenty of time to get to the Port authority, which means i have to catch a 7:00 train. . .which means I want to be up at 6:00 at the latest. . .
Do you see why i don't travel?
;-)
- -
;-)
this is nothing. try flying. but then, if you're going someplace really interesting...
so you left a message for our brother? will he call you [as a silent alarm] while you're here? or while you're on the bus? ;-) this is going to be fun...
;-) ;-)
meanwhile, i talked to my folks tonight and told them not to expect to hear from me before Monday...
i hope you can sleep tonight...
- -
I probably won't sleep a wink. . .
(Didn't I say I would make you call you mother while you are tied to the bed, with me licking your clit? That's still on, right. . .?)
- -
i'll sleep just fine. ha!
nope. no call to my mom. no way. nuh-uh.
however, YOU are going to call the housewarming on Saturday, and talk to everyone in your family, while i have your cock in my mouth, trying not to laugh. yup! yum-yum...
- -
I wonder If I could keep my voice steady?
Probably not. . ."I just called to say. . .HELLO!. . .I mean. hello, how's everything going. . .?
(You are SUCH a disobedient kitten!)
- -
;-) ;-) ;-) ;-)
i am an amusing kitten, and you like me like that.
right?
(it's COLD down here without an clothes on!!!)
- -
You may put on a robe, kitten. . .I don't want you getting frostbite!
Although I assume the cold has you nipples quite hard. . .
- -
oh yes, like red pebbles, my nipples. you'd love them...
oh... i just remembered... you're going to see them tomorrow...
scary... is it scary?
or wonderful?
or both?
oh man...
- -
Both. . . mostly scary. . . but mostly wonderful too. . .
- -
ah, brilliant math, that...
but yes. mostly scary... and mostly wonderful...
sigh...
it'll be ok.
yes. it'll be ok. you and me. we'll be ok.
- -
Second thoughts, kitten. . . ?
- -
ABSOLUTELY NOT.
because my first thought is always you.
every morning.
and every night.
and now you'll be in my bed.
every morning.
and every night.
for three days.
mmm...
- -
Good kitten. . . me neither. . . this will be the most exciting thing I have ever done. . .
Wild horses couldn't drag me away. . .
How's the sorting going?
- -
the most exciting thing you've ever done? oh wow, i sure better be good...
;-)
you know you're just opening Pandora's Box. you're opning the door to all sorts of adventures now... dates and figs and egg creams and who knows what else?
sorting's going slowly... i keep getting interrupted by this wild Irish rover...
i can't wait to see you.
period.
you're the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me. no matter what happens tomorrow, you are still the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me.
and tomorrow will be fine.
- -
(such a naughty kitten. . . allowing her self to be distracted. . . !)
Tomorrow will be fine. . . and kinky. . . and fun. . . and sweet. . .
- -
not naughty.. just easily distracted..
and meanwhile, Ketzel is all over me. rubbing up against the computer, pawing at me, snuffling in my head... man, she must know there will be someone else here this weekend claiming all my attention.
i hope you're prepared to make it up to her.. ;-)
it's 10 o'clock, sweetheart. isn't it bed time for the world traveler?
you've got a long, hard day tomorrow.
VERY hard. for a very long time...
- -
(Kitten's sending Master to bed? Unheard of. . . !)
Yes, my naked, sorting kitten. . .I am going to try to sleep now. No phone call tomorrow. . . the next time you hear my voice. . .
It will be for real. . .
Until tomorrow. . .
- -
it's always been for real, John.
it's always been for real.
we just didn't know it until the third day...
try to sleep.
i'll try to focus.
there will still be a big mess, and i'll blame it all on you ;-)
and it won't matter. as long as you're here.
have a good trip, my brave Captain. have a good trip.
good night, master.
- -
Good night, kitten. . .
the "lumpy odalisque" i refer to is the one we feature on this blog. the day before, i had been fretting over his coming to the door and finding this lumpy old redhead standing there. he had refused to allow me to send him a picture, and i was so afraid of seeing a look of disappointment on his face. but when i wept over being lumpy, he sent a new message with but 2 words: "Like this?" and the odalisque painting i then adopted as an alter ego.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Thursday, 2 August 2007
Less than 24 hours now kitten. . .
- -
mmm...
i was so focused going downtown, and in my meeting, and then i come home, and you call me kitten, and the convulsions start...
when i was there i stopped to talk with some friends, and told 2 of them how you sent me that picture of the lumpy odalisque. they were blown away. it was the sweetest, kindest, most sensitive thing you could possibly have done. your actions belie your fierce domly persona... ;-)
or maybe it's having this outlet for your evil side that enables you to be so sweet and sensitive.
in any case, i am grateful.
and my cunt is screaming!
- -
Kitten. . .I want you in bed very early tonight. . .and I have to be in bed early. . .I'm getting up soooooooooo early tomorrow, and you know how your master likes to sleep in. . .
So you may as well get undressed now. . .
NOW!
- -
what!! but master i have so much to do! i'm sitting here on the floor of the dungeon with a huge box of papers, sorting and throwing out, rather than just shoveling them off the dining room table and losing everything for 2 years.
just because YOU have to get up at the crack of dawn doesn't mean *I* have to. tho i AM planning on getting up at 7 so i can get stuff done...
tho i don't suppose there's any reason why i can't be naked while i sort papers...
so ok, i'll send this message and take my clothes off.
grumble grumble... you're just trying to show how strict you can be because i called you sweet and sensitive, aren't you... you're afraid i'll spoil your reputation as a mean and nasty master.
pout...
- -
Yes kitten. . . do your chores naked. . . and imagine me standing over you with the cane. . . looking for the slightest imperfection to chastise. . .
- -
[whimper]
- -
No whimpering, kitten. . .
Chores!
- -
yes, sir!
;-)
when are you getting up tomorrow?
and what did you tell your brother?
(and what did he say...?)
- -
I left a message for him. . . he'll get back to me.
I am getting up very early. . .probably before six. . .the bus leaves at 10:00, but I have to claim my ticket and check my bag an hour before. . .I want to be at penn station by 8:00, to give myself plenty of time to get to the Port authority, which means i have to catch a 7:00 train. . .which means I want to be up at 6:00 at the latest. . .
Do you see why i don't travel?
;-)
- -
;-)
this is nothing. try flying. but then, if you're going someplace really interesting...
so you left a message for our brother? will he call you [as a silent alarm] while you're here? or while you're on the bus? ;-) this is going to be fun...
;-) ;-)
meanwhile, i talked to my folks tonight and told them not to expect to hear from me before Monday...
i hope you can sleep tonight...
- -
I probably won't sleep a wink. . .
(Didn't I say I would make you call you mother while you are tied to the bed, with me licking your clit? That's still on, right. . .?)
- -
i'll sleep just fine. ha!
nope. no call to my mom. no way. nuh-uh.
however, YOU are going to call the housewarming on Saturday, and talk to everyone in your family, while i have your cock in my mouth, trying not to laugh. yup! yum-yum...
- -
I wonder If I could keep my voice steady?
Probably not. . ."I just called to say. . .HELLO!. . .I mean. hello, how's everything going. . .?
(You are SUCH a disobedient kitten!)
- -
;-) ;-) ;-) ;-)
i am an amusing kitten, and you like me like that.
right?
(it's COLD down here without an clothes on!!!)
- -
You may put on a robe, kitten. . .I don't want you getting frostbite!
Although I assume the cold has you nipples quite hard. . .
- -
oh yes, like red pebbles, my nipples. you'd love them...
oh... i just remembered... you're going to see them tomorrow...
scary... is it scary?
or wonderful?
or both?
oh man...
- -
Both. . . mostly scary. . . but mostly wonderful too. . .
- -
ah, brilliant math, that...
but yes. mostly scary... and mostly wonderful...
sigh...
it'll be ok.
yes. it'll be ok. you and me. we'll be ok.
- -
Second thoughts, kitten. . . ?
- -
ABSOLUTELY NOT.
because my first thought is always you.
every morning.
and every night.
and now you'll be in my bed.
every morning.
and every night.
for three days.
mmm...
- -
Good kitten. . . me neither. . . this will be the most exciting thing I have ever done. . .
Wild horses couldn't drag me away. . .
How's the sorting going?
- -
the most exciting thing you've ever done? oh wow, i sure better be good...
;-)
you know you're just opening Pandora's Box. you're opning the door to all sorts of adventures now... dates and figs and egg creams and who knows what else?
sorting's going slowly... i keep getting interrupted by this wild Irish rover...
i can't wait to see you.
period.
you're the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me. no matter what happens tomorrow, you are still the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me.
and tomorrow will be fine.
- -
(such a naughty kitten. . . allowing her self to be distracted. . . !)
Tomorrow will be fine. . . and kinky. . . and fun. . . and sweet. . .
- -
not naughty.. just easily distracted..
and meanwhile, Ketzel is all over me. rubbing up against the computer, pawing at me, snuffling in my head... man, she must know there will be someone else here this weekend claiming all my attention.
i hope you're prepared to make it up to her.. ;-)
it's 10 o'clock, sweetheart. isn't it bed time for the world traveler?
you've got a long, hard day tomorrow.
VERY hard. for a very long time...
- -
(Kitten's sending Master to bed? Unheard of. . . !)
Yes, my naked, sorting kitten. . .I am going to try to sleep now. No phone call tomorrow. . . the next time you hear my voice. . .
It will be for real. . .
Until tomorrow. . .
- -
it's always been for real, John.
it's always been for real.
we just didn't know it until the third day...
try to sleep.
i'll try to focus.
there will still be a big mess, and i'll blame it all on you ;-)
and it won't matter. as long as you're here.
have a good trip, my brave Captain. have a good trip.
good night, master.
- -
Good night, kitten. . .
Friday, August 1, 2008
Blush
4 days before our first meeting a year ago, on that Monday night, our e-mail conversation included a teasing reference to something I had done that the philosopher might regard as having been naughty. The following conversation comes from 2 days later. The secret is out.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Wednesday 1 August 2007
I received it, you naughty kitten.
We shall take a million pictures like that. . . .
- -
;-)
the naughty part was having your address, which i found on the invoice that came with the cane. all i meant to do was send a postcard, but i couldn't find anything and then came across this. it's the real thing, a vintage photograph. a used bookstore on Antique Row acquired an album of pictures, all of which feature the model reading. they are selling the pictures off one by one. it was a struggle not to keep it for myself... but i really wanted you to have it, because i liked it so much. we can pop down there and you can see the others if you'd like. they had one on display, framed, and when i expressed interest the sales woman brought out the album.
it was sent with affection as well as with lust.
- -
And it was received with affection. . .and lust. . .and wild insatiable desire. . .
- -
oh god yes!
i can't wait to touch you...
(did you really blush? and where will you put it? maybe it should go on your office desk back at the college when school starts up again :-)
- -
Right now, I'm keeping it on my bedside table. . .
Maybe at my office at school. . . I'll have to check the Sexual Harrassment Policy on vintage pornography!
- -
mmm... i like that it's by your bed. you'll have to show it to your brother next time he drops by. say, look what my sweet little sex slave sent me!
- -
By then, I'll have one of YOU. . . and I can say "That IS my sweet little sex slave."
;-)
- -
hmmm... do you really think you'd show your brother a pornographic picture of me? my goodness, what has happened to the good little risk-averse Catholic boy i met 6 months ago?
;-)
- -
No I couldn't. . . unless. . . perhaps if I didn't tell him you were my slave, just a model that was hired. . . I could show him the picture. . . but he wouldn't know what he was really looking at. . .
Of course the word's "John's Slave" will be written across your breasts in lipstick, so he might put it together. . .
- -
;-)
it would still be pretty weird to tell him you'd hired a model to sit (so to speak) for pornographic pictures... ;-)
- -
Yes it would. . . it might be less weird to tell him that the model was in fact my sex slave. . .
- -
Ketzel is begging like mad for dinner, even tho she has 25 minutes to go. i have nothing on her when it comes to begging..
and then i really have to get back to my last round of errands for the day.
see why i don't get enough done?! you chain me to the laptop and make me talk to you. such a demanding master...
- -
Take off your panties, kitten. . .
And then go do your chores.
I will talk to you later. . .
- -
take off my panties? and then go do my chores??!!!
gulp.
yes, master...
thank you, master.
i will of course obey.
( i can't wait till i can crawl for you....)
till later.
- -
Bye for now, kitten. . .
- -
'bye... except you're always with me... your hand clutching my wrist... the collar around my neck... the cane never far from my poor aching ass...
and your sweet laugh in my ears.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Wednesday 1 August 2007
I received it, you naughty kitten.
We shall take a million pictures like that. . . .
- -
;-)
the naughty part was having your address, which i found on the invoice that came with the cane. all i meant to do was send a postcard, but i couldn't find anything and then came across this. it's the real thing, a vintage photograph. a used bookstore on Antique Row acquired an album of pictures, all of which feature the model reading. they are selling the pictures off one by one. it was a struggle not to keep it for myself... but i really wanted you to have it, because i liked it so much. we can pop down there and you can see the others if you'd like. they had one on display, framed, and when i expressed interest the sales woman brought out the album.
it was sent with affection as well as with lust.
- -
And it was received with affection. . .and lust. . .and wild insatiable desire. . .
- -
oh god yes!
i can't wait to touch you...
(did you really blush? and where will you put it? maybe it should go on your office desk back at the college when school starts up again :-)
- -
Right now, I'm keeping it on my bedside table. . .
Maybe at my office at school. . . I'll have to check the Sexual Harrassment Policy on vintage pornography!
- -
mmm... i like that it's by your bed. you'll have to show it to your brother next time he drops by. say, look what my sweet little sex slave sent me!
- -
By then, I'll have one of YOU. . . and I can say "That IS my sweet little sex slave."
;-)
- -
hmmm... do you really think you'd show your brother a pornographic picture of me? my goodness, what has happened to the good little risk-averse Catholic boy i met 6 months ago?
;-)
- -
No I couldn't. . . unless. . . perhaps if I didn't tell him you were my slave, just a model that was hired. . . I could show him the picture. . . but he wouldn't know what he was really looking at. . .
Of course the word's "John's Slave" will be written across your breasts in lipstick, so he might put it together. . .
- -
;-)
it would still be pretty weird to tell him you'd hired a model to sit (so to speak) for pornographic pictures... ;-)
- -
Yes it would. . . it might be less weird to tell him that the model was in fact my sex slave. . .
- -
Ketzel is begging like mad for dinner, even tho she has 25 minutes to go. i have nothing on her when it comes to begging..
and then i really have to get back to my last round of errands for the day.
see why i don't get enough done?! you chain me to the laptop and make me talk to you. such a demanding master...
- -
Take off your panties, kitten. . .
And then go do your chores.
I will talk to you later. . .
- -
take off my panties? and then go do my chores??!!!
gulp.
yes, master...
thank you, master.
i will of course obey.
( i can't wait till i can crawl for you....)
till later.
- -
Bye for now, kitten. . .
- -
'bye... except you're always with me... your hand clutching my wrist... the collar around my neck... the cane never far from my poor aching ass...
and your sweet laugh in my ears.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Magic Bus
Day by day, we danced towards reality with caution and delight.
The philosopher is always very cautious; note how he waited until but 3 days before leaving to buy his bus ticket. He calls himself risk averse... and I always laugh and say he has forfeited that title for sure. He had almost never left the area in his entire life, and now he was hopping a bus to sacrifice his soul with a woman he only knew through the magic of the phone and the internet. Oh wait... he did have that card I sent him with a lock of my pubic hair...
I read over these e-mail exchanges, and I'm flooded with joy. There is such a certainty about us, such a calm under any nervousness. And I have that certainty now, as well as the calm. Perhaps it's the lithium kicking in. Perhaps it is that tomorrow is August and there is only one more month of self-denial to go.
I want to be able to rise on the morning of September 1st and greet the morning with calm and pride. I want to be able to say that in the end, finally, I served my master in true submission to his needs, with true acceptance of my task.
I read over these e-mail exchanges, and I smile and tremble and flood at his words, and I think Yes. I love you. You are sweet and good and funny and with all your weaknesses (for even gods have weaknesses) you are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I swear on my cats and the cane and my cunt that I will do what I must to make this work.
You named me kitten and you took me as yours.
Are you master enough to submit to that?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tuesday 31 July 2007
I have purchased my ticket, kitten.
I am coming.
- -
i knew you were coming.
and yet...
i'm breathless.
and feeling very submissive,
almost paralyzed.
thank you.
thank you very very much.
kitten
- -
so how did you feel when you'd bought the ticket? considering you never go anywhere...
i have so much to do, and everything keeps taking longer than i think it will, and then there are always interruptions...
my appointment with Dr. G. went swimmingly. as i walked across the street from the parking lot, i was thinking how calm and centered i felt ... and then i entered the office and thought how i'd be telling her that you're coming in 3 days... and the BIGGEST GRIN broke out on my face that i totally could NOT repress!
She thought this was pretty funny. and loved it. and was very pleased at "our" attempt at imposing discipline on me, on controlling my bedtimes especially. she's really hung up on my sleeping habits. she wants to be sure i sleep when you're here. i reminded her that i don't usually sleep well the first night (especially) that i spend with someone, even if it's someone i have been with before. but then she wants me to let her know if i'm not sleeping after you leave. luckily, i doubt that will be a problem. i'm more worried about let-down ;-(
meanwhile, i found that check-list from SM101 on line as a pdf. i'm changing it to a Word version, and will e-mail you both the blank and (when i'm done) my filled-out form. it seems smart to look at it beforehand.
- -
It felt odd when I bought the ticket. . . decisive. The whole thing is real now, in a way it wasn't before.
And it will get realler ;-)
I will make sure you sleep on a very strict schedule this weekend. . . it will be one of the many things I will be strict about.
Yes. . . we should fill out the check list before hand, to save time and head off an problems. . . good thinking. . such a clever slave!
(Which reminds me. . . my bus leaves at 10:00am and it's just over a 4 hour trip. . . I'll be there by 2:30 3:00pm. . . Is that good?)
- -
is that good??!!??
;-) ;-) ;-)
there's even less of a chance the house will be in order, but that's life. i refuse to get all tense about it.
i can't believe you're getting up that early!!! now THAT'S scary.
forecast is sunny and hot. but it's always nice and cold in the basement.
i should look up the numbers for cabs in case you want to call one ahead. i've seen some there when buses come in but don't know if they're just hanging out on spec or were called.
ok, now i'm starting to become a little crazed.
- -
Your house better be completely in order, kitten. . .or else!
And who knows, maybe I'll come even earlier, to try to catch you with a messy house. . .and then. . . !
I don't think I'll have trouble getting a cab. . .it's a bus station, I'm sure they troll about looking for business. . .
Crazed. . .?
How so, kitten. . .
;-)
- -
it's a small bus station, which will eventually get moved to right by the Metro station. but yeah, the taxis probably hang out.
the house will be what it is. you'll live with it.
crazed? did i say i was getting crazed? ;-) you're just imagining a wild little thing running around in circles, chasing her fluffy tail...
(oh take a look at this:
http://this.is/parsberg/dominatrix/negotiationlongform/domform.html
it's the url for the negotiation form. click on "A submissive" ;-)
- -
(It's a kitten! Just like my kitten!)
I'll live with it, will I? If it's not squeaky clean, You had better hope that it's so messy I can't find the cane!
I must have misunderstood. . . of course you're not crazed. . . there's no reason to be. . .
The fact that i am coming soon to lay claim to you. . .to force you to your knees, and put my collar around your neck. . . and to take full and complete possession of you. . . touching, licking, sucking. . . caning. . .
Why would any of that make you crazed?
- -
(i thought you'd like it! ;-)
the cane is under the bed. with the dust bunnies.
there may be papers all over the place but i will definitely vacuum. i'll be crawling all over the floor and with my allergies i'd BETTER vacuum!
i'm trying not to think about that other paragrapph. it just incites feelings that i know you won't let me relieve...
sadistic bastard.
- -
But I thought you weren't crazed, kitten. . . ;-)
What are you wearing?
- -
the short khaki shorts.
black music camp t-shirt.
blue panties.
pseudo-flesh-coloured bra.
the knee high stockings.
the chain.
and i'm starting to whimper, master...
- -
Strip.
- -
yes, sir.
- -
I shall have to decide. . .what shall I do first. . .
When you stand naked before me for the first time. . .how do i first touch you. . . ?
Your nipples, your lips, your cunt. . . my tongue, my hands, my cock. . . ?
Where? How?
Roughly, gently, coldly?
I will drive myself crazy over the next two days deciding how i will make first contact with your body. . .
- -
i think i will be very embarrassed standing before you for the first time. naked. odd, considering how brazen i can be about taking off my clothes...
i will be embarrassed by your gaze, but longing for your touch. whatever it is.
this is really going to happen, isn't it?
after all this time. we're really meeting... can't say we're being rash...
- -
It's really going to happen. . . and I will enjoy your blushing embarrassment. . .
No. . .we're being perverted, and insane, and bizarrely transgressive. . . but not rash.
Never rash. . .
- -
no, never rash.
you will bind me with your ropes, stare down at my helplessness, and plunge your cock into me... and i will say YES! IT'S ABOUT TIME!!!
;-)
and later, as we cuddle together, and caress each other's cheeks with the wonderment of being together, i will sigh and think yes... about time... but worth waiting for. definitely worth waiting for. because now we know it's right.
- -
Worth the wait. . . definitely. . . and only a bit more than two days to go. . .
And now it's time for bed, kitten. . . what would your doctor say if I didn't get you into bed at a reasonable hour?
- -
;-( ;-(
i don't wanna go to sleep!!
(what time should i get you up, master? so that you will really get up...)
- -
No complaints, kitten. . .straight to bed! (My god. . . I am going to love sending you to bed in person!)
Call me at 8:00am tomorrow. . . that will work I think. . . and it's not too early for you. . .
- -
yes, sir. thank you, m'Lord.
i'm melting, sir. everything in me is melting at the thought of your being here so soon...
until tomorrow.
good night, master.
good night, John.
--
Good night, kitten.
The philosopher is always very cautious; note how he waited until but 3 days before leaving to buy his bus ticket. He calls himself risk averse... and I always laugh and say he has forfeited that title for sure. He had almost never left the area in his entire life, and now he was hopping a bus to sacrifice his soul with a woman he only knew through the magic of the phone and the internet. Oh wait... he did have that card I sent him with a lock of my pubic hair...
I read over these e-mail exchanges, and I'm flooded with joy. There is such a certainty about us, such a calm under any nervousness. And I have that certainty now, as well as the calm. Perhaps it's the lithium kicking in. Perhaps it is that tomorrow is August and there is only one more month of self-denial to go.
I want to be able to rise on the morning of September 1st and greet the morning with calm and pride. I want to be able to say that in the end, finally, I served my master in true submission to his needs, with true acceptance of my task.
I read over these e-mail exchanges, and I smile and tremble and flood at his words, and I think Yes. I love you. You are sweet and good and funny and with all your weaknesses (for even gods have weaknesses) you are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I swear on my cats and the cane and my cunt that I will do what I must to make this work.
You named me kitten and you took me as yours.
Are you master enough to submit to that?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tuesday 31 July 2007
I have purchased my ticket, kitten.
I am coming.
- -
i knew you were coming.
and yet...
i'm breathless.
and feeling very submissive,
almost paralyzed.
thank you.
thank you very very much.
kitten
- -
so how did you feel when you'd bought the ticket? considering you never go anywhere...
i have so much to do, and everything keeps taking longer than i think it will, and then there are always interruptions...
my appointment with Dr. G. went swimmingly. as i walked across the street from the parking lot, i was thinking how calm and centered i felt ... and then i entered the office and thought how i'd be telling her that you're coming in 3 days... and the BIGGEST GRIN broke out on my face that i totally could NOT repress!
She thought this was pretty funny. and loved it. and was very pleased at "our" attempt at imposing discipline on me, on controlling my bedtimes especially. she's really hung up on my sleeping habits. she wants to be sure i sleep when you're here. i reminded her that i don't usually sleep well the first night (especially) that i spend with someone, even if it's someone i have been with before. but then she wants me to let her know if i'm not sleeping after you leave. luckily, i doubt that will be a problem. i'm more worried about let-down ;-(
meanwhile, i found that check-list from SM101 on line as a pdf. i'm changing it to a Word version, and will e-mail you both the blank and (when i'm done) my filled-out form. it seems smart to look at it beforehand.
- -
It felt odd when I bought the ticket. . . decisive. The whole thing is real now, in a way it wasn't before.
And it will get realler ;-)
I will make sure you sleep on a very strict schedule this weekend. . . it will be one of the many things I will be strict about.
Yes. . . we should fill out the check list before hand, to save time and head off an problems. . . good thinking. . such a clever slave!
(Which reminds me. . . my bus leaves at 10:00am and it's just over a 4 hour trip. . . I'll be there by 2:30 3:00pm. . . Is that good?)
- -
is that good??!!??
;-) ;-) ;-)
there's even less of a chance the house will be in order, but that's life. i refuse to get all tense about it.
i can't believe you're getting up that early!!! now THAT'S scary.
forecast is sunny and hot. but it's always nice and cold in the basement.
i should look up the numbers for cabs in case you want to call one ahead. i've seen some there when buses come in but don't know if they're just hanging out on spec or were called.
ok, now i'm starting to become a little crazed.
- -
Your house better be completely in order, kitten. . .or else!
And who knows, maybe I'll come even earlier, to try to catch you with a messy house. . .and then. . . !
I don't think I'll have trouble getting a cab. . .it's a bus station, I'm sure they troll about looking for business. . .
Crazed. . .?
How so, kitten. . .
;-)
- -
it's a small bus station, which will eventually get moved to right by the Metro station. but yeah, the taxis probably hang out.
the house will be what it is. you'll live with it.
crazed? did i say i was getting crazed? ;-) you're just imagining a wild little thing running around in circles, chasing her fluffy tail...
(oh take a look at this:
http://this.is/parsberg/dominatrix/negotiationlongform/domform.html
it's the url for the negotiation form. click on "A submissive" ;-)
- -
(It's a kitten! Just like my kitten!)
I'll live with it, will I? If it's not squeaky clean, You had better hope that it's so messy I can't find the cane!
I must have misunderstood. . . of course you're not crazed. . . there's no reason to be. . .
The fact that i am coming soon to lay claim to you. . .to force you to your knees, and put my collar around your neck. . . and to take full and complete possession of you. . . touching, licking, sucking. . . caning. . .
Why would any of that make you crazed?
- -
(i thought you'd like it! ;-)
the cane is under the bed. with the dust bunnies.
there may be papers all over the place but i will definitely vacuum. i'll be crawling all over the floor and with my allergies i'd BETTER vacuum!
i'm trying not to think about that other paragrapph. it just incites feelings that i know you won't let me relieve...
sadistic bastard.
- -
But I thought you weren't crazed, kitten. . . ;-)
What are you wearing?
- -
the short khaki shorts.
black music camp t-shirt.
blue panties.
pseudo-flesh-coloured bra.
the knee high stockings.
the chain.
and i'm starting to whimper, master...
- -
Strip.
- -
yes, sir.
- -
I shall have to decide. . .what shall I do first. . .
When you stand naked before me for the first time. . .how do i first touch you. . . ?
Your nipples, your lips, your cunt. . . my tongue, my hands, my cock. . . ?
Where? How?
Roughly, gently, coldly?
I will drive myself crazy over the next two days deciding how i will make first contact with your body. . .
- -
i think i will be very embarrassed standing before you for the first time. naked. odd, considering how brazen i can be about taking off my clothes...
i will be embarrassed by your gaze, but longing for your touch. whatever it is.
this is really going to happen, isn't it?
after all this time. we're really meeting... can't say we're being rash...
- -
It's really going to happen. . . and I will enjoy your blushing embarrassment. . .
No. . .we're being perverted, and insane, and bizarrely transgressive. . . but not rash.
Never rash. . .
- -
no, never rash.
you will bind me with your ropes, stare down at my helplessness, and plunge your cock into me... and i will say YES! IT'S ABOUT TIME!!!
;-)
and later, as we cuddle together, and caress each other's cheeks with the wonderment of being together, i will sigh and think yes... about time... but worth waiting for. definitely worth waiting for. because now we know it's right.
- -
Worth the wait. . . definitely. . . and only a bit more than two days to go. . .
And now it's time for bed, kitten. . . what would your doctor say if I didn't get you into bed at a reasonable hour?
- -
;-( ;-(
i don't wanna go to sleep!!
(what time should i get you up, master? so that you will really get up...)
- -
No complaints, kitten. . .straight to bed! (My god. . . I am going to love sending you to bed in person!)
Call me at 8:00am tomorrow. . . that will work I think. . . and it's not too early for you. . .
- -
yes, sir. thank you, m'Lord.
i'm melting, sir. everything in me is melting at the thought of your being here so soon...
until tomorrow.
good night, master.
good night, John.
--
Good night, kitten.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
The perfect age...
We continued to play and replay our fantasies as the day of his arrival drew closer. Remember that neither of us had any in-the-flesh experience with BDSM. It was all in our over-active imaginations.
I loved reading this over as I transferred it to the blog from the e-mail account I use only with him. The dichotomy that is the philosopher shines so clearly. He is sweet and funny and intelligent and clever, a truly kind and caring person. He loves cats and babies, cooks and cleans up, and worries intensely when I’m ill or hurt. And he is a sadist. When it came down to it, he discovered that he was really a sadist. He stood over me, and brought that belt down on my ass and knew that this was not just an erotic fantasy.
And the more he releases his sadistic self, the happier I am. I love him, and I love that he can accept and revel in both the sweetness and the darkness of the soul.
I am feeling very loving tonight. I’m not feeling distressed. Wet and twitchy, but not distressed. Maybe the lithium kicked in finally? Who knows… I’m remembering the anticipation, the excitement, the frissons of fear, and the surety that this was meant to be. And then… the validation. This WAS meant to be.
I love you. I can do this.
(Any bets on how long it takes for my mood to completely reverse?)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Monday evening 30 July 2007
From a book i ran across today called "The Ropes" which wasn't about what we might have wanted it to be ;-) tho it was about older women dealing with being single.
this quote was posted on the back:
"Instead of kissing a lot of frogs, mature women prefer "tadpoles" (younger men) ... How young should your tadpole be? The seven year role is a good yardstick: Pick a man who is half your age plus seven."
Lets see... 1/2 my age would be... plus seven... my goodness! That gives us 36!!
Except that it makes it sounds like one goes to Younger Men 'R' Us, and like shopping for bargain shoes in European sizes, goes to the shelf marked with the appropriate number... not that easy...
But the real problem i had with the quote was the use of the term "mature women."
I'M NOT A MATURE WOMAN!!
especially around you... where i feel small and young and helpless and very very submissive... which is such a wonderful feeling...
- -
So I'm a tadpole?
A cruel, sadistic implacable tadpole. . .
What are you wearing, kitten. . .
Or should I say "Cougar"?
- -
yeah, i can't really think of you as being a tadpole...
m'Lord.
but it IS pretty funny...
what am i wearing...
the magic words.
the short dark khaki shorts.
pale lavender sleevelss top with flower across my breasts.
white bra.
purple panties, which are already starting to get soggy)
brownish support knee-his w/ black socks (oh SO stylish!)
slippers.
(i was down in the basement and sat on the floor to snuggle w/Ketzel. but the idea of the basement being the dungeon seems to already have become imprinted on my brain, and sitting on the floor made a wave of submissiveness flood over me... oh you ARE going to have fun with me down there... i washed the dark red sheets that cover the futon and ship's bunks. the latter seem to be at just the right height to bend me over onto and...)
i am NOT A COUGAR.
i am your helpless, captive kitten
dependent on you for food and rest
subject to your punishment.
obliged to give you pleasure
and hoping to be granted a small amount in return.
i am your slave.
you own me.
- -
Take off everything but the wet purple panties, kitten. . .
I think I will have fun with you in the dungeon, kitten. . .
cruel, kinky fun. . .
And you will scream. . .
- -
yes, sir.
sorry for the delay. i obeyed as soon as i saw your command, but i had been scooping the beasties' litter box and taking out the garbage.
pick-up is Tuesday morning.
the dungeon is a good place to make me scream - the sound is less
likely to carry to teh street.
but i will be trying so hard to be brave...
tell me what you will do to me in the dungeon, master.
tell me your cruel plans...
it will make me afraid... but it will excite me.
- -
(kittens are such a bother, aren't they. . .?)
First i will strip you naked. . . or, rather, I will order you to strip and you will hasten to obey. . . always keeping one eye on the cane I keep balanced across my lap.
Then I will bind you. You will hold still. . . PERFECTLY still, kitten. . . as i practice all my knots out on you, tying, untying, retying. . . changing your position every short while. . . as I bind you wrists, then your ankles, then your breasts. . .
Finally, you are bound. . . helpless and exposed, unable to shield your body from my lascivious scrutiny. . . unable to protect yourself from what comes next. . .
What comes next. . .
What comes next. . .
I blindfold you, so you won't see it coming. . .
- -
will it be the wax, master?
will you burn me?
- -
Does kitten deserve the wax? How naughty are you. . .?
- -
i try not to be naughty... but i did something today you might think was naughty... or then again you might not.
i can't tell you yet.
is the wax a punishment, then?
not a torture that you do for your own sadistic pleasure? to hear my gasps of surprise and pain?
- -
You can't tell me? Why not?
- -
because...
kittens can have secrets, too.
like a mouse under the doormat ;-)
- -
Did you masturbate?
Or flirt with somebody?
You know I won't rest until I have it out of you. . .
- -
no, i didn't masturbate.
no, i didn't flirt with anyone.
you'll find out in a few days.
and, oh goody! that means i get to torture you!!!
- -
Grrrrr. . .
But I bet I can guess. . . it's something that would annoy me. . . did you cut your hair?
- -
damn, you're cute.
no, i didn't cut my hair.
i wouldn't do that!
i'm your slave, i obey you, you own me, which means you own my hair.
and my mouth.
and my cunt.
and my ass.
maybe it won't annoy you.
i'm not sure.
but it felt a little naughty at the time...
;-)
- -
I'm stumped kitten. . . I guesss I will have to wait until friday. . .
And then I will punish you. . .once for whatever it was you did. . . and once for teasing me like this, you wicked thing. . .
You naughty, wicked thing. . .
- -
;-) .
- -
Remove your panties.
- -
yes, m'Lord.
i'm feeling rather frightened at the moment... a little bit as part of my usual reaction to this command, but also because i was so naughty as to have teased you.
- -
Well. . .now I will tease you in return: How do you think I will punish you, kitten?
;-)
- -
sigh... you won't let me cum ;-(
- -
Ever again!
- -
hmmm... afraid i can't believe that one. you are much too entertained by the sounds i make when i cum. and the power you have to make me cum. and your desire to train me to cum on command.
on cummand.
you'll torment me for a while, but then you'll let me beg like crazy and finally you will relent.
i know you...
m'Lord ;-)
- -
You seem very sure of yourself, kitten. . .! Such defiance!
Careful though. . . I like to hear you moan and sob. . . but I don't care if it's from a cumming or a caning. . .
And you beg so sweetly when you want to cum. . . I could listen to it forever. . .
- -
[whimper]
every time you mention the cane...
you do it deliberately, don't you?
you know it sends me down the rabbit hole...
i'm sinking, master, further and further...
- -
Just think how you will feel, kitten. . .
When I give you a stern look, as you kneel naked at my feet, and say, sharply:
"Fetch!"
And you will have to crawl on your hands and knees, and bring the cane back to me in your mouth. . .and drop it on my lap. . .
How will that feel, kitten?
- -
i will feel very small, master.
as i do now.
i will feel frightened.
as i do now.
and i will be wet.
as i am now.
i will tremble at confronting the depth of your sadism
and i will welcome the chance to to display the strength of my submission.
you will hurt me
and i will accept it.
and this frightens and excites me.
and you?
how will it feel to you, master?
- -
I'm not sure I can describe how I will feel. . . or if I even know it right now. . .
But to see you, naked, and kneeling, and obeying. . . and offering up your body for whatever purpose I have in mind. . .
I will be smiling. . . whether it will be my cute smile or my evil smile. . .
i don't know. . .
- -
we will know soon enough.
but i suspect it will be some of both.
this, what we are doing, what we will do, is so complex, draws us on so many different levesl, that i doubt any of our reactions will be purely one thing or another.
i think of wanting to feel the pain, of learning to breath thru it, to accept it for the sake of your pleasure, to accept it in hopes it will send me even further into subspace than i've gone so far, and i wonder a bit who the hell i am, what the hell it think i'm playing with.
and yet... it feels so right, so liberating, and somehow makes me feel stronger.
just writing about it now is bringing me so close to cumming (no, don't worry, i won't...) 4 days from right this moment we will have already discovered so much...
- -
In exactly four days. . .
So soon. . . so far. . .
And now, kitten: i have had enough of your defiance and your teasing!!
To bed!
And I will expect my wake-up call at 7:56. . . EXACTLY. . .
- -
ah, you will never have enough of my defiance and teasing! i know you love it... ;-)
i can call you at 7:56, but i will have been up for a while. i do doctors tomorrow, and must absolutely be at the door by by 8:30. so i will be getting up around 6:45.
given that, when would you like me to wake you, m'Lord?
and did you actually get up today after our call?
just think, how glorious to lie in bed together in the morning...
and for you to receive your daily wake-up blow job... ;-)
- -
I didn't get up after we talked. . .I slept until 11:00.
Masters are allowed to be lazy. . .
Technically, I suppose, you should call me at 6:45. . . you'll need my permission to get dressed. . .
Yes, call me then. . .and if you can remember to ask your question, i won't keep you. . .
- -
BAD master.
i hereby consider myself totally absolved of any responsibility for lack of dissertation progress.
i would cane you, except that as you know the thought absolutely horrifies me. i can barely whack at the pillow!
your little slave is so horribly undisciplined that she is counting on you to set a good example.
OK, 6:45 it will be, and i will try not to sink too far into subspace. too bad. but then there will be plenty of that soon enough ;-)
i can't wait to know what it is really really like!
good night, master.
sleep well
and dream of metaphors...
- -
Good night, kitten. . .
I loved reading this over as I transferred it to the blog from the e-mail account I use only with him. The dichotomy that is the philosopher shines so clearly. He is sweet and funny and intelligent and clever, a truly kind and caring person. He loves cats and babies, cooks and cleans up, and worries intensely when I’m ill or hurt. And he is a sadist. When it came down to it, he discovered that he was really a sadist. He stood over me, and brought that belt down on my ass and knew that this was not just an erotic fantasy.
And the more he releases his sadistic self, the happier I am. I love him, and I love that he can accept and revel in both the sweetness and the darkness of the soul.
I am feeling very loving tonight. I’m not feeling distressed. Wet and twitchy, but not distressed. Maybe the lithium kicked in finally? Who knows… I’m remembering the anticipation, the excitement, the frissons of fear, and the surety that this was meant to be. And then… the validation. This WAS meant to be.
I love you. I can do this.
(Any bets on how long it takes for my mood to completely reverse?)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Monday evening 30 July 2007
From a book i ran across today called "The Ropes" which wasn't about what we might have wanted it to be ;-) tho it was about older women dealing with being single.
this quote was posted on the back:
"Instead of kissing a lot of frogs, mature women prefer "tadpoles" (younger men) ... How young should your tadpole be? The seven year role is a good yardstick: Pick a man who is half your age plus seven."
Lets see... 1/2 my age would be... plus seven... my goodness! That gives us 36!!
Except that it makes it sounds like one goes to Younger Men 'R' Us, and like shopping for bargain shoes in European sizes, goes to the shelf marked with the appropriate number... not that easy...
But the real problem i had with the quote was the use of the term "mature women."
I'M NOT A MATURE WOMAN!!
especially around you... where i feel small and young and helpless and very very submissive... which is such a wonderful feeling...
- -
So I'm a tadpole?
A cruel, sadistic implacable tadpole. . .
What are you wearing, kitten. . .
Or should I say "Cougar"?
- -
yeah, i can't really think of you as being a tadpole...
m'Lord.
but it IS pretty funny...
what am i wearing...
the magic words.
the short dark khaki shorts.
pale lavender sleevelss top with flower across my breasts.
white bra.
purple panties, which are already starting to get soggy)
brownish support knee-his w/ black socks (oh SO stylish!)
slippers.
(i was down in the basement and sat on the floor to snuggle w/Ketzel. but the idea of the basement being the dungeon seems to already have become imprinted on my brain, and sitting on the floor made a wave of submissiveness flood over me... oh you ARE going to have fun with me down there... i washed the dark red sheets that cover the futon and ship's bunks. the latter seem to be at just the right height to bend me over onto and...)
i am NOT A COUGAR.
i am your helpless, captive kitten
dependent on you for food and rest
subject to your punishment.
obliged to give you pleasure
and hoping to be granted a small amount in return.
i am your slave.
you own me.
- -
Take off everything but the wet purple panties, kitten. . .
I think I will have fun with you in the dungeon, kitten. . .
cruel, kinky fun. . .
And you will scream. . .
- -
yes, sir.
sorry for the delay. i obeyed as soon as i saw your command, but i had been scooping the beasties' litter box and taking out the garbage.
pick-up is Tuesday morning.
the dungeon is a good place to make me scream - the sound is less
likely to carry to teh street.
but i will be trying so hard to be brave...
tell me what you will do to me in the dungeon, master.
tell me your cruel plans...
it will make me afraid... but it will excite me.
- -
(kittens are such a bother, aren't they. . .?)
First i will strip you naked. . . or, rather, I will order you to strip and you will hasten to obey. . . always keeping one eye on the cane I keep balanced across my lap.
Then I will bind you. You will hold still. . . PERFECTLY still, kitten. . . as i practice all my knots out on you, tying, untying, retying. . . changing your position every short while. . . as I bind you wrists, then your ankles, then your breasts. . .
Finally, you are bound. . . helpless and exposed, unable to shield your body from my lascivious scrutiny. . . unable to protect yourself from what comes next. . .
What comes next. . .
What comes next. . .
I blindfold you, so you won't see it coming. . .
- -
will it be the wax, master?
will you burn me?
- -
Does kitten deserve the wax? How naughty are you. . .?
- -
i try not to be naughty... but i did something today you might think was naughty... or then again you might not.
i can't tell you yet.
is the wax a punishment, then?
not a torture that you do for your own sadistic pleasure? to hear my gasps of surprise and pain?
- -
You can't tell me? Why not?
- -
because...
kittens can have secrets, too.
like a mouse under the doormat ;-)
- -
Did you masturbate?
Or flirt with somebody?
You know I won't rest until I have it out of you. . .
- -
no, i didn't masturbate.
no, i didn't flirt with anyone.
you'll find out in a few days.
and, oh goody! that means i get to torture you!!!
- -
Grrrrr. . .
But I bet I can guess. . . it's something that would annoy me. . . did you cut your hair?
- -
damn, you're cute.
no, i didn't cut my hair.
i wouldn't do that!
i'm your slave, i obey you, you own me, which means you own my hair.
and my mouth.
and my cunt.
and my ass.
maybe it won't annoy you.
i'm not sure.
but it felt a little naughty at the time...
;-)
- -
I'm stumped kitten. . . I guesss I will have to wait until friday. . .
And then I will punish you. . .once for whatever it was you did. . . and once for teasing me like this, you wicked thing. . .
You naughty, wicked thing. . .
- -
;-) .
- -
Remove your panties.
- -
yes, m'Lord.
i'm feeling rather frightened at the moment... a little bit as part of my usual reaction to this command, but also because i was so naughty as to have teased you.
- -
Well. . .now I will tease you in return: How do you think I will punish you, kitten?
;-)
- -
sigh... you won't let me cum ;-(
- -
Ever again!
- -
hmmm... afraid i can't believe that one. you are much too entertained by the sounds i make when i cum. and the power you have to make me cum. and your desire to train me to cum on command.
on cummand.
you'll torment me for a while, but then you'll let me beg like crazy and finally you will relent.
i know you...
m'Lord ;-)
- -
You seem very sure of yourself, kitten. . .! Such defiance!
Careful though. . . I like to hear you moan and sob. . . but I don't care if it's from a cumming or a caning. . .
And you beg so sweetly when you want to cum. . . I could listen to it forever. . .
- -
[whimper]
every time you mention the cane...
you do it deliberately, don't you?
you know it sends me down the rabbit hole...
i'm sinking, master, further and further...
- -
Just think how you will feel, kitten. . .
When I give you a stern look, as you kneel naked at my feet, and say, sharply:
"Fetch!"
And you will have to crawl on your hands and knees, and bring the cane back to me in your mouth. . .and drop it on my lap. . .
How will that feel, kitten?
- -
i will feel very small, master.
as i do now.
i will feel frightened.
as i do now.
and i will be wet.
as i am now.
i will tremble at confronting the depth of your sadism
and i will welcome the chance to to display the strength of my submission.
you will hurt me
and i will accept it.
and this frightens and excites me.
and you?
how will it feel to you, master?
- -
I'm not sure I can describe how I will feel. . . or if I even know it right now. . .
But to see you, naked, and kneeling, and obeying. . . and offering up your body for whatever purpose I have in mind. . .
I will be smiling. . . whether it will be my cute smile or my evil smile. . .
i don't know. . .
- -
we will know soon enough.
but i suspect it will be some of both.
this, what we are doing, what we will do, is so complex, draws us on so many different levesl, that i doubt any of our reactions will be purely one thing or another.
i think of wanting to feel the pain, of learning to breath thru it, to accept it for the sake of your pleasure, to accept it in hopes it will send me even further into subspace than i've gone so far, and i wonder a bit who the hell i am, what the hell it think i'm playing with.
and yet... it feels so right, so liberating, and somehow makes me feel stronger.
just writing about it now is bringing me so close to cumming (no, don't worry, i won't...) 4 days from right this moment we will have already discovered so much...
- -
In exactly four days. . .
So soon. . . so far. . .
And now, kitten: i have had enough of your defiance and your teasing!!
To bed!
And I will expect my wake-up call at 7:56. . . EXACTLY. . .
- -
ah, you will never have enough of my defiance and teasing! i know you love it... ;-)
i can call you at 7:56, but i will have been up for a while. i do doctors tomorrow, and must absolutely be at the door by by 8:30. so i will be getting up around 6:45.
given that, when would you like me to wake you, m'Lord?
and did you actually get up today after our call?
just think, how glorious to lie in bed together in the morning...
and for you to receive your daily wake-up blow job... ;-)
- -
I didn't get up after we talked. . .I slept until 11:00.
Masters are allowed to be lazy. . .
Technically, I suppose, you should call me at 6:45. . . you'll need my permission to get dressed. . .
Yes, call me then. . .and if you can remember to ask your question, i won't keep you. . .
- -
BAD master.
i hereby consider myself totally absolved of any responsibility for lack of dissertation progress.
i would cane you, except that as you know the thought absolutely horrifies me. i can barely whack at the pillow!
your little slave is so horribly undisciplined that she is counting on you to set a good example.
OK, 6:45 it will be, and i will try not to sink too far into subspace. too bad. but then there will be plenty of that soon enough ;-)
i can't wait to know what it is really really like!
good night, master.
sleep well
and dream of metaphors...
- -
Good night, kitten. . .
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Fortunate Future
i had just returned with a GLBT-synagogue night out – Christmas in July, at least for Jews… Chinese food and a movie. The gay guys picked the movie so of course it was the musical of “Hairspray.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sunday night 29 July 2007
my post-Chinese meal cookie yielded a very promising fortune, surrounded by smiley faces:
You will have good luck in your personal affairs.
i will take that as absolutely true.
i enjoyed the movie a lot. good music, good production numbers, nice cameo by John Waters as a flasher, didn't agree with John Travolta's decision to play Edna Turnblad straight, as a woman, so he didn't really add anything, but the rest of it was good and fun and very feel-good.
at dinner, i came out about you. very brave. but then the only woman at the table was V, who is rather gender ambiguous and has always accepted my being bi, and knows about you anyway. the guys, of course, were not at all judgmental, and my darling leather
friends were highly approving when i said you were kinky and just wanted to know when i was going to bring you around for them to pass judgment. ;-) anyway, it was a big relief, tho i still haven't broken the word to my lesbian friends, of whom one of my favorites always has a hard time remembering i'm bi. but so be it.
it seems i have a habit of blushing fiercely when i bring you up.
coming back on the train, i listened to my collection of phone messages. mmm... very, um, stirring...
the world smelled of chamomile when i exited in Silver Spring. from all the rain. there's been a drought - we needed it.
i need you.
- -
"out". . .you mean all the way? Ropes and chains and collars. . .the works?
Good!
Take off the black t-shirt.
- -
i didn't go into detail. just said you were kinky.
that was enough. especially for the leather boys.
t-shirt is off m'Lord.
thank you.
when you exert your power... i start going down...
in 5 days, in 5 days you will take me all the way.
- -
All the way down, kitten. . .
Unbutton your jeans, too. .
- -
jeans had already been exchanged for shorts, which are now zipped down.
i can't wait for you to work at taming me with your hands, with your cane, with your cock... not just with your words...
listening to your messages, where you say you own me... i have no doubt. i have no doubt that you do own me. and count the minutes until you claim me.
- -
Taming you. . . up close. . . where I can see how well you obey. . . and if you don't. . .
WHAP!
Immediate correction.
I look forward to becoming closely acquainted with every intimate corner of your body.
I can't wait until I get my first glimpse of my property. . .
- -
[whimper...]
- -
And I plan on taking full advantage of my ownership. . .
How tall are you?
- -
5' 3-3/4"
why, m'Lord?
- -
I have my reasons, kitten.
Take off your shorts.
- -
[you scare me, m'Lord.]
shorts are off, sir,
ass is bare.
cunt is revealed.
i am yours for the taking.
5 days from now you will have been here for hours, m'Lord.
suddenly...
i feel you caning me...
do you hear, m'Lord?
do you hear those little sounds you love?
my back is arching of it own accord.
my head is falling back.
and the sounds...
i feel your cruelty.
and am lost.
- -
Get the cane.
- -
[gulp]
[small voice:]
yes, sir..
- -
Once you have it. . .
Strip completely naked.
Rest the cane across your knees.
- -
[trembling...]
- -
Tell me what you are feeling.
Now.
- -
aroused
frightened
very submissive
very small
owned
wet
trembling
breathing fast... no, panting
and wanting to know the sting of teh cane. from you. to know you are unleashing your demon on my defenseless flesh.
and you, my master?
what are you feeling?
- -
I am hard, kitten. . .and I want to expend my hardness on you.
I want to take you over my knee. . .telll you exactly what i am going
to do to you. . .and then do it. . .
I want to hear you scream. . .
Put the cane in your mouth. . .
- -
yes, sir.
i am whimpering and moaning sir, and was all the time i was waiting to hear back from you.
tell me what you are telling me that you will do.
tell me what it is that will make me scream
the fear... it sends me down...
- -
Are you alone?
- -
yes.
my housemate is almost never here now.
of course, Marko is on the bed with me. he also looks after me when we are on line or on the phone, and he is obsessed with the cane.
as am i...
- -
Obsessed. . .
And you want to know what I will do to you. . .
Take the cane down tot the basement. Stand in front of the black footrest.
Raise the can over your head. . .Strike the footrest with the cane as hard as you can. . .
Get a good "WHAP!" out of it.
THAT is what I am going to do to you.
Let me know when you have done it.
- -
i have done it, master.
i have done it and am back upstairs.
when you issued the command, i walked downstairs as if in a trance. perfectly obedient.
and yes, as always, when it came time to strike, it was a struggle. so tremendously difficult. frightening, distressing.
finally, i pulled myself enough tor aise my arm.
the cane came down hard on the footstool.
this time, the actual hitting wasn't so upsetting.
but the sound... the sound of the cane whooshing through the air...
that was horrible.
horribly threatening...
you will enjoy it, i think.
and enjoy my fear...
- -
I think I will, kitten.
;-)
And now, to bed.
You will call me at 8:03 tomorrow morning.
- -
to bed?! i'm so incredibly aroused!! you are such a meanie... and you get me every time. you are deliberately exciting me, over and over, having forbidden me to even touch... i'll be so locked up tight by friday, who knows if i'll ever be able to cum again!
sadistic bastard.
sigh... you're just what i want.
you are the only one i want.
whatever you are, whoever you are, you define what i want.
you own me. so i have no choice in the matter in any case.
thank you, master.
thank you for putting me to bed.
i will call at 8:03.
and this time you won't go back to sleep, right?
we will be very productive, as i crawl, and you stride, towards consummation.
good night, m'Lord.
and dream of how you will torture me.
and of my screams...
- -
:-) :-) :-)
Good night kitten.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sunday night 29 July 2007
my post-Chinese meal cookie yielded a very promising fortune, surrounded by smiley faces:
You will have good luck in your personal affairs.
i will take that as absolutely true.
i enjoyed the movie a lot. good music, good production numbers, nice cameo by John Waters as a flasher, didn't agree with John Travolta's decision to play Edna Turnblad straight, as a woman, so he didn't really add anything, but the rest of it was good and fun and very feel-good.
at dinner, i came out about you. very brave. but then the only woman at the table was V, who is rather gender ambiguous and has always accepted my being bi, and knows about you anyway. the guys, of course, were not at all judgmental, and my darling leather
friends were highly approving when i said you were kinky and just wanted to know when i was going to bring you around for them to pass judgment. ;-) anyway, it was a big relief, tho i still haven't broken the word to my lesbian friends, of whom one of my favorites always has a hard time remembering i'm bi. but so be it.
it seems i have a habit of blushing fiercely when i bring you up.
coming back on the train, i listened to my collection of phone messages. mmm... very, um, stirring...
the world smelled of chamomile when i exited in Silver Spring. from all the rain. there's been a drought - we needed it.
i need you.
- -
"out". . .you mean all the way? Ropes and chains and collars. . .the works?
Good!
Take off the black t-shirt.
- -
i didn't go into detail. just said you were kinky.
that was enough. especially for the leather boys.
t-shirt is off m'Lord.
thank you.
when you exert your power... i start going down...
in 5 days, in 5 days you will take me all the way.
- -
All the way down, kitten. . .
Unbutton your jeans, too. .
- -
jeans had already been exchanged for shorts, which are now zipped down.
i can't wait for you to work at taming me with your hands, with your cane, with your cock... not just with your words...
listening to your messages, where you say you own me... i have no doubt. i have no doubt that you do own me. and count the minutes until you claim me.
- -
Taming you. . . up close. . . where I can see how well you obey. . . and if you don't. . .
WHAP!
Immediate correction.
I look forward to becoming closely acquainted with every intimate corner of your body.
I can't wait until I get my first glimpse of my property. . .
- -
[whimper...]
- -
And I plan on taking full advantage of my ownership. . .
How tall are you?
- -
5' 3-3/4"
why, m'Lord?
- -
I have my reasons, kitten.
Take off your shorts.
- -
[you scare me, m'Lord.]
shorts are off, sir,
ass is bare.
cunt is revealed.
i am yours for the taking.
5 days from now you will have been here for hours, m'Lord.
suddenly...
i feel you caning me...
do you hear, m'Lord?
do you hear those little sounds you love?
my back is arching of it own accord.
my head is falling back.
and the sounds...
i feel your cruelty.
and am lost.
- -
Get the cane.
- -
[gulp]
[small voice:]
yes, sir..
- -
Once you have it. . .
Strip completely naked.
Rest the cane across your knees.
- -
[trembling...]
- -
Tell me what you are feeling.
Now.
- -
aroused
frightened
very submissive
very small
owned
wet
trembling
breathing fast... no, panting
and wanting to know the sting of teh cane. from you. to know you are unleashing your demon on my defenseless flesh.
and you, my master?
what are you feeling?
- -
I am hard, kitten. . .and I want to expend my hardness on you.
I want to take you over my knee. . .telll you exactly what i am going
to do to you. . .and then do it. . .
I want to hear you scream. . .
Put the cane in your mouth. . .
- -
yes, sir.
i am whimpering and moaning sir, and was all the time i was waiting to hear back from you.
tell me what you are telling me that you will do.
tell me what it is that will make me scream
the fear... it sends me down...
- -
Are you alone?
- -
yes.
my housemate is almost never here now.
of course, Marko is on the bed with me. he also looks after me when we are on line or on the phone, and he is obsessed with the cane.
as am i...
- -
Obsessed. . .
And you want to know what I will do to you. . .
Take the cane down tot the basement. Stand in front of the black footrest.
Raise the can over your head. . .Strike the footrest with the cane as hard as you can. . .
Get a good "WHAP!" out of it.
THAT is what I am going to do to you.
Let me know when you have done it.
- -
i have done it, master.
i have done it and am back upstairs.
when you issued the command, i walked downstairs as if in a trance. perfectly obedient.
and yes, as always, when it came time to strike, it was a struggle. so tremendously difficult. frightening, distressing.
finally, i pulled myself enough tor aise my arm.
the cane came down hard on the footstool.
this time, the actual hitting wasn't so upsetting.
but the sound... the sound of the cane whooshing through the air...
that was horrible.
horribly threatening...
you will enjoy it, i think.
and enjoy my fear...
- -
I think I will, kitten.
;-)
And now, to bed.
You will call me at 8:03 tomorrow morning.
- -
to bed?! i'm so incredibly aroused!! you are such a meanie... and you get me every time. you are deliberately exciting me, over and over, having forbidden me to even touch... i'll be so locked up tight by friday, who knows if i'll ever be able to cum again!
sadistic bastard.
sigh... you're just what i want.
you are the only one i want.
whatever you are, whoever you are, you define what i want.
you own me. so i have no choice in the matter in any case.
thank you, master.
thank you for putting me to bed.
i will call at 8:03.
and this time you won't go back to sleep, right?
we will be very productive, as i crawl, and you stride, towards consummation.
good night, m'Lord.
and dream of how you will torture me.
and of my screams...
- -
:-) :-) :-)
Good night kitten.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Scary. Very very scary...
a promised package arrived. much longer than it was wide, with no external indication of the company from which it had been bought or the threatening contents within. but i knew...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Friday, 27 July 2007 (that evening. and later that night.)
John....?
it came.
it's real now.
i feel so many different things, and more feelings keep tumbling into the mix. i suppose this is what i will feel like when i'm tied to the bed and feel you standing above me, hear a few practice swishes thru the air... i can't sort it all out except to say that it is frightening and intense... frightening in that it brings us face-to-face with what we are about to let loose.
knowing that you had the ropes and were practicing knots was arousing and amusing. but this?
i feel like i need aftercare and it hasn't even started yet.
no. i'm wrong.
we've started.
this is the beginning of the scene.
hold me?
your frightened kitten
- -
a few hours later...
Are you there, kitten?
- -
i just got home from shul.
- -
Are you still scared?
- -
yeah... tho services helped calm me down, although it took the whole first half hour.
everything in me kept clutching, as if i had menstrual cramps almost, and some sort of pain in my lower back. and i must admit to being very wet. but also rather stunned with my heart beating fast. it's starting up again...
very intense.
my kinky young friend V was there. She had thought it was cute that you're practicing knots, and was glad you are reading SM101. She is there as a resource for me (and a friend) whenever i need her. she also said that a lot of people have a difficult relationship with the cane, but then there's the minority (like herself) who are really into it. but anyway her main thing is masochism, and ours is the D/s, so it's the submission to it that is so important, like it or not, and the submission that excites me and fills me...
still. whatever we say when we are playing, you ARE going to take it slow and easy at first, right?
and meanwhile, what did it make you feel knowing that it is actually here. and under my bed. i can hear it rattling in the box. i'm glad that [my housemate] is almost never around now and didn't come across the box on the doorstep and wonder what could possibly be inside...
[small voice] you will take good care of your kitten, won't you?
- -
Slow and easy, kitten. . . you have my word.
You didn't take it out of the box?
- -
thank you. i do know i can trust you. i know the difference between our on-line and phone play, and our in-the-flesh play, and know that you do, too.
that trust... that unquestioning trust... it's at the heart of what i feel for you and just about the greatest gift i can offer you.
and yes of course it's still in the box. you told me not to open it.
tell me how you feel knowing that it is here. under the bed. that i heard it rattle in the box.
i felt you standing above me. bringing it down gently and tapping it on my cheeks to gauge the right spot, the right swing. drawing your arm back - but in fact not too far - and bringing it down for the very first time. i don't even know if i went as far as the sensation of it striking - it was more the image of you doing it, and being controlled. and both of us having that experience of the first time. of your striking me. of my feeling the sting and the pain. and recoiling with a little gasp. and trying to breathe thru it. and your reaction to the sight of the welt forming, and my little gasp and knowing that you caused it... that you caused me pain... that i accepted it... but that you caused me pain.
- -
It is a very strange feeling. . .knowing it is there. . .because I sent it there. And that in a week, I will be holding it my hands.
And I can picture: I have made you strip, and positioned you just the way I want, face down on the bed, your hands tied. . .
A few practice swings. . .and then. . .
THWAP!!
I have no idea what it will feel like for either of us. . .
- -
i don't either...except that i have been whimpering non-stop since my last message... and feeling very small... this has clearly taken possession of me... YOU have possession of me... i can feel that my cunt must be swollen like never before... i wish you were here. right now. i need you to exercise your ownership. firmly.
i am your slave.
your very very submissive slave.
and we will do this. and then we'll see...
- -
What are you wearing?
- -
a pretty light blue patterned rayon blouse (short sleeves, scoop neck)
light stone khaki slacks
white bra
pink panties
black socks
slippers
purple earrings, lapis and silver ring, watch
and the slave chain that marks me as yours
i am your slave
you own me
body, heart, and soul
i feel your collar around my neck
i feel the cane hovering over my flesh
you want to hurt me, because you can, because you want to test my submission
at services, i watched the burning Shabbos candles, and could only think of how you would be dripping the hot wax on my naked flesh, to test my submission, to hear my cries.
i will pass your tests.
i will submit.
i will suffer thru it all
- -
Take it all off.
- -
yes, m'Lord. it's all off.
except for the chain.
never the chain.
- -
Good.
Are you in bed?
- -
yes, m'Lord.
- -
I want you to get the cane. . .take it out of the box.
- -
[small voice]
yes, master...
Marko is finding it to be very interesting.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
and then the phone rang.
and the next morning i sent him this:
Subject: Yours in the morning
i awake
and remember the cane.
i awake
and remember the fear.
i awake
and remember our passion.
i awake.
i never forgot.
i am yours.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Friday, 27 July 2007 (that evening. and later that night.)
John....?
it came.
it's real now.
i feel so many different things, and more feelings keep tumbling into the mix. i suppose this is what i will feel like when i'm tied to the bed and feel you standing above me, hear a few practice swishes thru the air... i can't sort it all out except to say that it is frightening and intense... frightening in that it brings us face-to-face with what we are about to let loose.
knowing that you had the ropes and were practicing knots was arousing and amusing. but this?
i feel like i need aftercare and it hasn't even started yet.
no. i'm wrong.
we've started.
this is the beginning of the scene.
hold me?
your frightened kitten
- -
a few hours later...
Are you there, kitten?
- -
i just got home from shul.
- -
Are you still scared?
- -
yeah... tho services helped calm me down, although it took the whole first half hour.
everything in me kept clutching, as if i had menstrual cramps almost, and some sort of pain in my lower back. and i must admit to being very wet. but also rather stunned with my heart beating fast. it's starting up again...
very intense.
my kinky young friend V was there. She had thought it was cute that you're practicing knots, and was glad you are reading SM101. She is there as a resource for me (and a friend) whenever i need her. she also said that a lot of people have a difficult relationship with the cane, but then there's the minority (like herself) who are really into it. but anyway her main thing is masochism, and ours is the D/s, so it's the submission to it that is so important, like it or not, and the submission that excites me and fills me...
still. whatever we say when we are playing, you ARE going to take it slow and easy at first, right?
and meanwhile, what did it make you feel knowing that it is actually here. and under my bed. i can hear it rattling in the box. i'm glad that [my housemate] is almost never around now and didn't come across the box on the doorstep and wonder what could possibly be inside...
[small voice] you will take good care of your kitten, won't you?
- -
Slow and easy, kitten. . . you have my word.
You didn't take it out of the box?
- -
thank you. i do know i can trust you. i know the difference between our on-line and phone play, and our in-the-flesh play, and know that you do, too.
that trust... that unquestioning trust... it's at the heart of what i feel for you and just about the greatest gift i can offer you.
and yes of course it's still in the box. you told me not to open it.
tell me how you feel knowing that it is here. under the bed. that i heard it rattle in the box.
i felt you standing above me. bringing it down gently and tapping it on my cheeks to gauge the right spot, the right swing. drawing your arm back - but in fact not too far - and bringing it down for the very first time. i don't even know if i went as far as the sensation of it striking - it was more the image of you doing it, and being controlled. and both of us having that experience of the first time. of your striking me. of my feeling the sting and the pain. and recoiling with a little gasp. and trying to breathe thru it. and your reaction to the sight of the welt forming, and my little gasp and knowing that you caused it... that you caused me pain... that i accepted it... but that you caused me pain.
- -
It is a very strange feeling. . .knowing it is there. . .because I sent it there. And that in a week, I will be holding it my hands.
And I can picture: I have made you strip, and positioned you just the way I want, face down on the bed, your hands tied. . .
A few practice swings. . .and then. . .
THWAP!!
I have no idea what it will feel like for either of us. . .
- -
i don't either...except that i have been whimpering non-stop since my last message... and feeling very small... this has clearly taken possession of me... YOU have possession of me... i can feel that my cunt must be swollen like never before... i wish you were here. right now. i need you to exercise your ownership. firmly.
i am your slave.
your very very submissive slave.
and we will do this. and then we'll see...
- -
What are you wearing?
- -
a pretty light blue patterned rayon blouse (short sleeves, scoop neck)
light stone khaki slacks
white bra
pink panties
black socks
slippers
purple earrings, lapis and silver ring, watch
and the slave chain that marks me as yours
i am your slave
you own me
body, heart, and soul
i feel your collar around my neck
i feel the cane hovering over my flesh
you want to hurt me, because you can, because you want to test my submission
at services, i watched the burning Shabbos candles, and could only think of how you would be dripping the hot wax on my naked flesh, to test my submission, to hear my cries.
i will pass your tests.
i will submit.
i will suffer thru it all
- -
Take it all off.
- -
yes, m'Lord. it's all off.
except for the chain.
never the chain.
- -
Good.
Are you in bed?
- -
yes, m'Lord.
- -
I want you to get the cane. . .take it out of the box.
- -
[small voice]
yes, master...
Marko is finding it to be very interesting.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
and then the phone rang.
and the next morning i sent him this:
Subject: Yours in the morning
i awake
and remember the cane.
i awake
and remember the fear.
i awake
and remember our passion.
i awake.
i never forgot.
i am yours.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Anticipation
23 July 2007
kitten and the philosopher look forward to their first meeting, then only weeks away.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
i'm getting twinges of nervousness...
what if we've been fantasizing all this stuff and then we don't like it? what if just the idea of the pain excites me beyond bearing but when it comes down to it the pain itself is beyond bearing?
at least i'm pretty sure i won't have any problem with the ropes...
ok, i KNOW i won't have any problem with the ropes...
i suppose it's just normal nervousness... i was going to say "before a first date" but it's not REALLY a first date, it's just one more step... but still...
and with all that, what i really want is to have you right here RIGHT NOW.
i'm a lunatic. pure and simple.
- - - - - - -
You are a lunatic. . .but I wouldn't say "pure". At least not when I'm done with you;-)
We might not like it. It's something we should brace ourselves for. . . what works in fantasy and on the phone might not work in person. Neither of us should be afraid about stopping it if it gets too much. . . and we will have our safewords.
But a philosophical question: Which is worse, discovering that you don't like the pain. . .or discovering you do? (And the same goes for me as far as inflicting it goes. . .)
But I'm not afraid, not really. . . whatever happens. . . we will have shared a wonderful adventure. . .
- - - - - - -
a million thoughts roll thru my head as i read what you've said... the shared smile about how debauched i'll be when you are done with me... the effect of the steps from e-mail to phone to physical reality... facing the reality of our desires, whatever they may be.
and then the adventure...
maybe, just maybe, that's the biggest truth of all. the shared adventure. because it has been an amazing adventure. each of us, both of us, taking a deep breath and plunging ahead, baring our darkest secrets, developing them together, feeling our fantasies break away from the cages in which we've kept them locked.
and the scariest thing of all, the thing that makes me very very nervous to say... this is really hard, in spite of everything, it's really hard to say this... that while our shared dark side is incredibly exciting, an amazing framework for our interactions, it does feel like (deep breaths...) the connection is more than that.
at least, i hope it is.
- - - - - - -
I think it is too. . . it's not just the kink, although that is a big part of it. But there is a comfort there, a naturalness between us, which is what makes this all (The morning phone calls, the daily e-mails, the sneaking away to write and call) work.
That's why I say I'm not afraid.
And we will see what happens soon enough.
- - - - - - -
[sigh of relief... but not really, i knew that... i guess i just needed to hear it again...]
an amazing sense of comfort. it really is that, isn't it... which is why one of my most treasured fantasies is of lying in bed together, peaceful, happy, comfortable, my head on your shoulder, your arm around me... i look into your face in wonderment.. you stroke my hair...
soon enough. have you bought the bus tickets yet?
- - - - - - -
The Bus ticket: I have not. Apparently, there's no point in buying it much before the time of departure. I'll reserve a seat a day or two in advance, but that doesn't guarantee me a seat. I'll try to get an express bus, so there'll be no stops. I'll leave early. . . early even by non-philosopher-grad student standards. . .and I hope to be there by early evening. I'll call when I leave. . . and when I arrive. . . and when I am standing at your door. . .
;-)
- - - - - - -
the thought of you at my door... oohhh... the contractions are starting... more than starting... they're at it in earnest....
teeth are brushed... laptop and i are headed for the bed... where you will be, too... very soon...
mmm... i feel your arms around me....
sigh...
yes.
it will be just fine.
all of it.
- - - - - - -
And when I am at your door. . .where will you be?
- - - - - - -
in the bedroom
on the bed
kneeling
naked
blindfolded
hands on my knees, palms upturned
waiting, in perfect submission...
(somehow, that feels easier than greeting you in a more normal way... "oh, hello, um... how was your trip... can i get you something to drink?)
- - - - - - -
(And knees spread. . .)
That's how I've been imagining it! And then:
I walk around you slowly, drinking you in with my eyes. I know you can hear my breathing, maybe even feel my heart pounding.
I lean in close. . .put my mouth right next to your ear. . .and whisper. . .
"I've come for you, kitten. Come to claim you."
And then. . . ?
- - - - - - -
(oh, right, knees spread... sorry i forgot to mention it but it's a given...)
and then?
my breath comes faster
a wet spot forms beneath me
you run your fingers up over my scalp, then grab my hair and pull my head back.
- - - - - - -
And then I thrust my tongue into your mouth, holding your head firmly by the hair, as my other hand twists one of your your nipples. . . hard. . .
- - - - - - -
i gasp at the pain, simultaneously matching the hunger of your kiss with my own.
(nipples are a good place to start... familiar...)
- - - - - - -
(I know, kitten. . .)
Then my hand works its way roughly down your body. . .between your legs. . .where it feels to see if you are wet enough. . .are you wet?
- - - - - - -
(you always know...)
yes, master, i am wet enough..
but then, you know that, too...
- - - - - - -
And then I lie you back. . . still blindfolded. . . and open your legs wide. . . spreading your lips with my thumbs. . . and then ravishing you with my tongue. . .
When you have cum three or four times. . .
I lean over and whisper "I will be in the living room kitten. Get dressed and come to me there." and then I leave.
You get dressed. . . go to the living room. . . sit down next to me. . . and we say hello. I complement your house, you ask me about my trip.
We are smiling.
- - - - - - -
yes.
that is good.
you are an excellent scriptwriter.
- - - - - - -
(I've been working on it for weeks now!)
And now: to bed, kitten. To sleep! You have an early call to make. . . which I promise I will receive. . .
- - - - - - -
yes. to bed. i'd hoped it would be earlier but assorted things intervened.
on the other hand, it's so nice to be home and again enjoying our bedtime visit.
no, not a visit.
being together at bedtime. which i missed so very much over the weekend...
good night, master. until tomorrow morning...
your kitten.
yours, totally yours, and yours alone.
- - - - - - -
Good night, kitten.
kitten and the philosopher look forward to their first meeting, then only weeks away.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
i'm getting twinges of nervousness...
what if we've been fantasizing all this stuff and then we don't like it? what if just the idea of the pain excites me beyond bearing but when it comes down to it the pain itself is beyond bearing?
at least i'm pretty sure i won't have any problem with the ropes...
ok, i KNOW i won't have any problem with the ropes...
i suppose it's just normal nervousness... i was going to say "before a first date" but it's not REALLY a first date, it's just one more step... but still...
and with all that, what i really want is to have you right here RIGHT NOW.
i'm a lunatic. pure and simple.
- - - - - - -
You are a lunatic. . .but I wouldn't say "pure". At least not when I'm done with you;-)
We might not like it. It's something we should brace ourselves for. . . what works in fantasy and on the phone might not work in person. Neither of us should be afraid about stopping it if it gets too much. . . and we will have our safewords.
But a philosophical question: Which is worse, discovering that you don't like the pain. . .or discovering you do? (And the same goes for me as far as inflicting it goes. . .)
But I'm not afraid, not really. . . whatever happens. . . we will have shared a wonderful adventure. . .
- - - - - - -
a million thoughts roll thru my head as i read what you've said... the shared smile about how debauched i'll be when you are done with me... the effect of the steps from e-mail to phone to physical reality... facing the reality of our desires, whatever they may be.
and then the adventure...
maybe, just maybe, that's the biggest truth of all. the shared adventure. because it has been an amazing adventure. each of us, both of us, taking a deep breath and plunging ahead, baring our darkest secrets, developing them together, feeling our fantasies break away from the cages in which we've kept them locked.
and the scariest thing of all, the thing that makes me very very nervous to say... this is really hard, in spite of everything, it's really hard to say this... that while our shared dark side is incredibly exciting, an amazing framework for our interactions, it does feel like (deep breaths...) the connection is more than that.
at least, i hope it is.
- - - - - - -
I think it is too. . . it's not just the kink, although that is a big part of it. But there is a comfort there, a naturalness between us, which is what makes this all (The morning phone calls, the daily e-mails, the sneaking away to write and call) work.
That's why I say I'm not afraid.
And we will see what happens soon enough.
- - - - - - -
[sigh of relief... but not really, i knew that... i guess i just needed to hear it again...]
an amazing sense of comfort. it really is that, isn't it... which is why one of my most treasured fantasies is of lying in bed together, peaceful, happy, comfortable, my head on your shoulder, your arm around me... i look into your face in wonderment.. you stroke my hair...
soon enough. have you bought the bus tickets yet?
- - - - - - -
The Bus ticket: I have not. Apparently, there's no point in buying it much before the time of departure. I'll reserve a seat a day or two in advance, but that doesn't guarantee me a seat. I'll try to get an express bus, so there'll be no stops. I'll leave early. . . early even by non-philosopher-grad student standards. . .and I hope to be there by early evening. I'll call when I leave. . . and when I arrive. . . and when I am standing at your door. . .
;-)
- - - - - - -
the thought of you at my door... oohhh... the contractions are starting... more than starting... they're at it in earnest....
teeth are brushed... laptop and i are headed for the bed... where you will be, too... very soon...
mmm... i feel your arms around me....
sigh...
yes.
it will be just fine.
all of it.
- - - - - - -
And when I am at your door. . .where will you be?
- - - - - - -
in the bedroom
on the bed
kneeling
naked
blindfolded
hands on my knees, palms upturned
waiting, in perfect submission...
(somehow, that feels easier than greeting you in a more normal way... "oh, hello, um... how was your trip... can i get you something to drink?)
- - - - - - -
(And knees spread. . .)
That's how I've been imagining it! And then:
I walk around you slowly, drinking you in with my eyes. I know you can hear my breathing, maybe even feel my heart pounding.
I lean in close. . .put my mouth right next to your ear. . .and whisper. . .
"I've come for you, kitten. Come to claim you."
And then. . . ?
- - - - - - -
(oh, right, knees spread... sorry i forgot to mention it but it's a given...)
and then?
my breath comes faster
a wet spot forms beneath me
you run your fingers up over my scalp, then grab my hair and pull my head back.
- - - - - - -
And then I thrust my tongue into your mouth, holding your head firmly by the hair, as my other hand twists one of your your nipples. . . hard. . .
- - - - - - -
i gasp at the pain, simultaneously matching the hunger of your kiss with my own.
(nipples are a good place to start... familiar...)
- - - - - - -
(I know, kitten. . .)
Then my hand works its way roughly down your body. . .between your legs. . .where it feels to see if you are wet enough. . .are you wet?
- - - - - - -
(you always know...)
yes, master, i am wet enough..
but then, you know that, too...
- - - - - - -
And then I lie you back. . . still blindfolded. . . and open your legs wide. . . spreading your lips with my thumbs. . . and then ravishing you with my tongue. . .
When you have cum three or four times. . .
I lean over and whisper "I will be in the living room kitten. Get dressed and come to me there." and then I leave.
You get dressed. . . go to the living room. . . sit down next to me. . . and we say hello. I complement your house, you ask me about my trip.
We are smiling.
- - - - - - -
yes.
that is good.
you are an excellent scriptwriter.
- - - - - - -
(I've been working on it for weeks now!)
And now: to bed, kitten. To sleep! You have an early call to make. . . which I promise I will receive. . .
- - - - - - -
yes. to bed. i'd hoped it would be earlier but assorted things intervened.
on the other hand, it's so nice to be home and again enjoying our bedtime visit.
no, not a visit.
being together at bedtime. which i missed so very much over the weekend...
good night, master. until tomorrow morning...
your kitten.
yours, totally yours, and yours alone.
- - - - - - -
Good night, kitten.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Playing with Panties
i'm leaving town for a few days, heading north for a visit with my aged parents. i'm not sure what kind of internet access i will have, and whether it can be had with any measure of privacy. but considering the amazing, loving support you have been giving me - even you silent readers since you wouldn't keep coming back if you thought i should be left crying amongst the dust bunnies - i will leave you with a post a day drawn from the archives of teh happier days of our epistolary romance.
today's installment comes from the last couple of weeks leading up to our first physical meeting. i'll try not to dwell too much on that anniversary. it was August 3, 2007, 6 months to the day after we were united electronically by an amazing confluence of Eros and craigslist.
this exchange was on July 17th, beginning shortly before i was due to leave work. it mentions my being able to see his face. we exchanged no photos. it drove me nuts but then i grew to accept it. but then i started feeling guilty for not telling my friends about him (an expurgated version, of course), and was sure that they would ask about a picture and how could i say he wouldn't let me have one? so he took some of himself, and sending it off admitted that one reason he held back was because he doesn't photograph well. the picture certainly doesn't do him justice, i have taken some very lovely ones of him, but at least it gave me an idea.
and oddly enough, after all that, no one asked about it! (the philosopher wouldn't let me send him a picture. he wanted to maintain the mystery.)
read and smile...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
17 July 2007
Take off your panties, kitten. . .as soon as you get this.
(It amuses me that you can now picture my face as you read this. . .)
- - - - - -
yes, sir. i'm so happy to provide you with amusement.
(poor master, you must be so disappointed that i just missed seeing this before leaving work ;-)
- - - - - -
You rode home on the train. . .wearing panties?
Bad kitten!!
- - - - - - -
NOT a bad kitten, because i didn't receive your order until i arrived home. as soon as i saw it i removed my panties immediately.
and you know that. you know how obedient your kitten is. especially when it comes down to taking off her clothes.
- - - - - - - -
Hmmm. . .you should have checked your e-mail before leaving work. The whole thing reeks of rebellion and insubordination. . .
What are you wearing now?
- - - - - - -
I DID check my e-mail before leaving work! Especially because I had your picture open the whole time... (L said that when I invited her to have lunch, saying that i would tell her the story behind the pinhole camera project, that there was this guy... she said I blushed as red as the orangey-red shirt I was wearing..)
which i am still wearing. a very nice t-shirt with southwestern designs on the bottom. and khaki slacks. no panties. yes bra. sandals. the support knee-his. sandals. and a blue apron from the Yiddish Book Center in Amherst. Just finished the dishes. have to grind my coffee for tomorrow, brush my teeth, and get into bed.
sleepy kitty. it was an exciting day.
you are very exciting, my roguish Irish master, my wicked highwayman, my stern poet owner. your eyes bore into me, and hold me, somehow evil and romantic at the same time.
you own me.
- - - - - - -
Yes, I want you in bed and asleep by 10:30 at the very latest. . .
So now all your friends know about me. . .but they don't know the most important thing about me. . .about us. . .although they must wonder why you blush when you talk about me. . .
;-)
- - - - - - -
yes, i will scurry to get to bed, so won't talk long now.
M doesn't know yet, nor does T, but otherwise...
the blush was not because of the BDSM, it was just because...
and while your ownership of me, and your plans for me, may be the most, um unusual thing about you, about us, i don't in fact consider it the most important thing.
it's the connection, the intensity, the mutual obsession, the balance of feelings, how much we share... that's what is so important. the fact that we share dark desires, wild passions, and a need for this kind of relationship - that is in a way a detail. it's the sharing and the balance that is the most important thing. to my little slave mind, in any case. it is a precious and unusual thing and we are incredibly lucky.
we found out today that someone from our greater community died.
facts are scare, and the grapevine isn't working as well as usual. but deaths without details make me wonder about suicide. and unexpected loss reminds me to treasure what i have while i have it...
like a wild-haired Irish philosopher whose gaze makes me feel weak...
- - - - - - -
I'm sorry to hear about that. . .and you're right: it's a reminder to gather ye kittens while ye may.
I'm very glad I'm coming to see you. . .
- - - - - - -
mmm...
very glad.
(almost ready for bed... admittedly late, but getting there.. i DO try! honest!! and without you i wouldn't be in bed till after midnight, for no good reason at all...)
- - - - - - -
Almost?!?
Open rebellion. . . !
- - - - - - -
NOT rebellion.
simple failure...
- - - - - - -
I get to punish you, either way.
;-)
- - - - - - -
nasty man...
well i'm in bed. do your worst...
- - - - - - -
My worst? That's to make you wear a nightgown. . .no sleeping naked for naughty kittens!
But since it is late. . .and you really really tried. . .I will just send you off to sleep. . .
with images of rough hempen chord. . .and dripping wax. . .and a cruel master, whose face you now know. . .but who still has some hidden depth of cruelty to unleash. . .
- - - - - - -
thank you for being kind, master, and for saving your cruelty for when you can unleash it in person.
oddly, when we were coming home on the Metro, L realized she was still wearing the lanyard around her neck with her key card, and took it off saying "oh, i can take off my leash now!" i smiled to myself...
weren't you going to send me the url for the place you bought the rope from? you do keep forgetting your promises, master, you are quite distracted i think. what happened to that wicked phone message you promised? maybe while i'm away...
i do hope you are getting work done on you dissertation, and not getting caught up in logical knots...
i am so glad after all that i know your face, and have hints of your body... there is still some mystery, there is still threat, but there is also a sense of reassurance... i will be very happy looking at that face, and will feel very comfortable. in pain... ;-) but comfortable.
- - - - - - -
You're right kitten. . .I had forgotten. Here it is:
http://www.twistedmonk.com/
They have interesting products, and some very nice videos demonstrating various ties. Look at them; maybe you can pick one you'd like to try. . .although I'm warning you, I get final decision and I already have some ideas. . .;-)
The message. . .once again, I forgot. It's this weather. . .oppressive heat turns my mind to mush.
But this weekend, if you leave your phone off, I will leave a message that will make my kitten purrrrr. . .
- - - - - - -
thank you, master. i will leave my phone off except if you want me to call you. and i will call you Friday morning - tho not from the
beautiful little 3rd floor room which i consider mine, because it
doesn't have an air conditioner and your kitten is a wimp. i think
redheads weren't made to deal well with heat.
except your heat... i was destined to deal with your heat.
- - - - - - -
Good kitten.
And now, to sleep.
A new face will haunt your dreams. . .and inflame your body. . .
- - - - - - -
mmm... a face... and a cane... and ropes... (what color did you order...?)
good night, master.
and thank you for doing your best to take care of me. in spite of my best efforts to thwart you.
- - - - - - -
Good night, kitten. . .
today's installment comes from the last couple of weeks leading up to our first physical meeting. i'll try not to dwell too much on that anniversary. it was August 3, 2007, 6 months to the day after we were united electronically by an amazing confluence of Eros and craigslist.
this exchange was on July 17th, beginning shortly before i was due to leave work. it mentions my being able to see his face. we exchanged no photos. it drove me nuts but then i grew to accept it. but then i started feeling guilty for not telling my friends about him (an expurgated version, of course), and was sure that they would ask about a picture and how could i say he wouldn't let me have one? so he took some of himself, and sending it off admitted that one reason he held back was because he doesn't photograph well. the picture certainly doesn't do him justice, i have taken some very lovely ones of him, but at least it gave me an idea.
and oddly enough, after all that, no one asked about it! (the philosopher wouldn't let me send him a picture. he wanted to maintain the mystery.)
read and smile...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
17 July 2007
Take off your panties, kitten. . .as soon as you get this.
(It amuses me that you can now picture my face as you read this. . .)
- - - - - -
yes, sir. i'm so happy to provide you with amusement.
(poor master, you must be so disappointed that i just missed seeing this before leaving work ;-)
- - - - - -
You rode home on the train. . .wearing panties?
Bad kitten!!
- - - - - - -
NOT a bad kitten, because i didn't receive your order until i arrived home. as soon as i saw it i removed my panties immediately.
and you know that. you know how obedient your kitten is. especially when it comes down to taking off her clothes.
- - - - - - - -
Hmmm. . .you should have checked your e-mail before leaving work. The whole thing reeks of rebellion and insubordination. . .
What are you wearing now?
- - - - - - -
I DID check my e-mail before leaving work! Especially because I had your picture open the whole time... (L said that when I invited her to have lunch, saying that i would tell her the story behind the pinhole camera project, that there was this guy... she said I blushed as red as the orangey-red shirt I was wearing..)
which i am still wearing. a very nice t-shirt with southwestern designs on the bottom. and khaki slacks. no panties. yes bra. sandals. the support knee-his. sandals. and a blue apron from the Yiddish Book Center in Amherst. Just finished the dishes. have to grind my coffee for tomorrow, brush my teeth, and get into bed.
sleepy kitty. it was an exciting day.
you are very exciting, my roguish Irish master, my wicked highwayman, my stern poet owner. your eyes bore into me, and hold me, somehow evil and romantic at the same time.
you own me.
- - - - - - -
Yes, I want you in bed and asleep by 10:30 at the very latest. . .
So now all your friends know about me. . .but they don't know the most important thing about me. . .about us. . .although they must wonder why you blush when you talk about me. . .
;-)
- - - - - - -
yes, i will scurry to get to bed, so won't talk long now.
M doesn't know yet, nor does T, but otherwise...
the blush was not because of the BDSM, it was just because...
and while your ownership of me, and your plans for me, may be the most, um unusual thing about you, about us, i don't in fact consider it the most important thing.
it's the connection, the intensity, the mutual obsession, the balance of feelings, how much we share... that's what is so important. the fact that we share dark desires, wild passions, and a need for this kind of relationship - that is in a way a detail. it's the sharing and the balance that is the most important thing. to my little slave mind, in any case. it is a precious and unusual thing and we are incredibly lucky.
we found out today that someone from our greater community died.
facts are scare, and the grapevine isn't working as well as usual. but deaths without details make me wonder about suicide. and unexpected loss reminds me to treasure what i have while i have it...
like a wild-haired Irish philosopher whose gaze makes me feel weak...
- - - - - - -
I'm sorry to hear about that. . .and you're right: it's a reminder to gather ye kittens while ye may.
I'm very glad I'm coming to see you. . .
- - - - - - -
mmm...
very glad.
(almost ready for bed... admittedly late, but getting there.. i DO try! honest!! and without you i wouldn't be in bed till after midnight, for no good reason at all...)
- - - - - - -
Almost?!?
Open rebellion. . . !
- - - - - - -
NOT rebellion.
simple failure...
- - - - - - -
I get to punish you, either way.
;-)
- - - - - - -
nasty man...
well i'm in bed. do your worst...
- - - - - - -
My worst? That's to make you wear a nightgown. . .no sleeping naked for naughty kittens!
But since it is late. . .and you really really tried. . .I will just send you off to sleep. . .
with images of rough hempen chord. . .and dripping wax. . .and a cruel master, whose face you now know. . .but who still has some hidden depth of cruelty to unleash. . .
- - - - - - -
thank you for being kind, master, and for saving your cruelty for when you can unleash it in person.
oddly, when we were coming home on the Metro, L realized she was still wearing the lanyard around her neck with her key card, and took it off saying "oh, i can take off my leash now!" i smiled to myself...
weren't you going to send me the url for the place you bought the rope from? you do keep forgetting your promises, master, you are quite distracted i think. what happened to that wicked phone message you promised? maybe while i'm away...
i do hope you are getting work done on you dissertation, and not getting caught up in logical knots...
i am so glad after all that i know your face, and have hints of your body... there is still some mystery, there is still threat, but there is also a sense of reassurance... i will be very happy looking at that face, and will feel very comfortable. in pain... ;-) but comfortable.
- - - - - - -
You're right kitten. . .I had forgotten. Here it is:
http://www.twistedmonk.com/
They have interesting products, and some very nice videos demonstrating various ties. Look at them; maybe you can pick one you'd like to try. . .although I'm warning you, I get final decision and I already have some ideas. . .;-)
The message. . .once again, I forgot. It's this weather. . .oppressive heat turns my mind to mush.
But this weekend, if you leave your phone off, I will leave a message that will make my kitten purrrrr. . .
- - - - - - -
thank you, master. i will leave my phone off except if you want me to call you. and i will call you Friday morning - tho not from the
beautiful little 3rd floor room which i consider mine, because it
doesn't have an air conditioner and your kitten is a wimp. i think
redheads weren't made to deal well with heat.
except your heat... i was destined to deal with your heat.
- - - - - - -
Good kitten.
And now, to sleep.
A new face will haunt your dreams. . .and inflame your body. . .
- - - - - - -
mmm... a face... and a cane... and ropes... (what color did you order...?)
good night, master.
and thank you for doing your best to take care of me. in spite of my best efforts to thwart you.
- - - - - - -
Good night, kitten. . .
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Scavenger Hunt
From over a year ago. April 29, 2007. We hadn't met yet. We hadn't seen pictures of each other. We just knew...
The philosopher begins:
(Here's a story for you kitten. . .I hope you like it. It will give you something to masturbate to. . . even though you are forbidden to masturbate tonight. It's a bit rough as stories go. . . but leaves room for all sorts of interesting elaborations. . .perhaps my naughty little kitten can add to it. . .)
My little kitten is nervous.
She was told the rules of the game, and she was nervous. "Rules" she thought. . .there was just the one: "Obey". The rest was in the hands of her master, who would never hurt her.
But still. . .
The phone rang, interrupting her thoughts and bringing her back to the present moment, the present location. Which was noon, at Union Station. She was sitting near a public phone, and it was this whose ringing had startled her. She swallowed hard. . . and answered.
"Go to the newsstand, kitten. Go to the stack of Cosmopolitan. . . the third one from the bottom."
Then a click. The game had begun.
She went to the newsstand, and obtained what she hoped was the correct magazine. It was: as she flipped through it, an index card fluttered to the ground. It read:
"Lost and Found. Manila envelope marked Odile Roissy."
She went to the lost and found, and inquired if anyone had turned in a large manila envelope with the name "Odile Roissy" on it. Someone had. . . and since it didn't seem to be valuable. . . the man behind the desk handed it over to her without seeing ID. Was he smiling as he did it? Did he know why your cheeks were burning?
She opened the envelope, to find a smaller envelope, and a note.
"Open in private".
She went to the ladies room, waited for an empty stall, and when she was alone, opened the smaller envelope. It contained a bright red thong, and further instructions.
"Put this on. Leave old panties behind. Go to bookstore. Story of O, page 43."
She did so, blushing furiously. The thing was thin and silky. . . offering her pussy hardly any protection at all. She may as well be nude. . .except that it was so smooth and silky. . .it felt soooo goood! She hung her old panties on the stall's coathook (a boldness that should earn her extra points, she thought) and left quickly, lest anyone should find them too quickly.
Exiting the restroom, she looked around. That must be the bookstore. . . a Barnes and Noble that catered to the commuter.
She found the only volume of the novel, and checked page 43. Sure enough, a message was scribbled there.
"Take a taxi to your favorite department store. Women's clothing section. Go to dressing room. Remove everything but the thong. Do not lock the door. Find package under seat."
She followed these instructions to the letter. The package hidden under the dressing room chair contained a message and an object. . . an object that made her catch her breath. The message read:
"Put this on and wait."
The object was a blindfold. She put it on.
And waited. . . all but naked, unable to see. The dressing rooms were monitored against shoplifters; what must the security guards be thinking? The thought made her cheeks burn even more. But she was good. . . she obeyed, sitting absolutely still, and straight, her legs parted slightly.
It seemed like hours that she waited. . . but she couldn't be sure.
Finally. . . the door to the dressing room creaked open slowly. . . she felt a finger tug at her thong, rubbing it against her by now soaking wet pussy. . . and the pounding of her heart almost obscured the whispered voice that appeared right next to her ear:
"Good kitten"
- - - - - - - - - - -
Thank you, Master.
i always like your stories.
i always like your messages.
i like everything you've every written to me.
when you bought me at the slave market,
you paid with words.
part of me wants to write the next chapter. part of me likes leaving it hanging. it is the unknown, the anticipation, the fear, which is always so exciting.
on the other hand, in addition to inciting flames, the story raised questions and comments. some are nitpicking, but sometimes i can't help getting out my red pencil... on the other hand...
1. would you like to have me wearing a thong? once i have money coming in again, i could get one, just for you. pink, if that's what you would prefer. or red, or whatever... a ritual object for me to put on at the beginning of any long session. i want to please you, i want to excite you.
2. once again you stirred up the warm feelings. warm feelings in my heart, as opposed to the burning in my cunt. when right off, you spoke of [my] master, who would never hurt [me]. you make me feel so safe, so treasured, so embraced and calm and happy. and you draw the net
tighter around me. even the tigress doesn't really want to break free.
3. something slipped right by me when i read it the first couple of times. how could i have been so slow? it only just clicked. now i know where it's going, at least now that it is in my hands. in my mind. thank you.
4. in the nit-picking category. i'll assume you'd know what was my favorite department store... tho do i actually have one? i don't dress like a normal Washington career woman, so either i go up to LL Bean's or to shops with pretty, brightly-colored rayon clothes, little tops to wear with jeans or khaki pants, which cling and show off my nipples... but in any case, you would have needed to specify which changing room within the dressing room. there are lots. (and i sure hope they don't REALLY have secret cameras looking into the rooms! that's a whole other movie... :-)
and now i will write...
- - - - - - - - - -
She gasped, and tears rose to her eyes, until they were as wet as her tantalized pussy. . . tears of relief, and, more than anything, tears of joy.
Until now now, she had assumed there had been a local accomplice. A friend from grad school, perhaps? (He must have SOME friends, somewhere, despite that fact that he almost never mentioned any.) Or perhaps a stray sibling; there were so many, it wasn't unlikely that one occasionally wandered down to DC. And there was no reason the accomplice needed to know the contents of the envelope, or of the package, or even the meaning of the index card.
She knew he had been testing her. But she never suspected what the reward would be for getting an A.
The reward was that voice. And the man who went with it.
"My perfect slave," the familiar voice now whispered. "My tigress. My selkie."
"My master..." she breathed, in wonderment and gratitude. "My master!"
She turned her face towards him, this man she knew so intimately, this man with whom she spent hours every night, this man whom she had never seen, whose picture she had never even seen, but who ruled her body and mind.
She still couldn't see him. She was still blindfolded. But it didn't matter. He was there.
He pulled her to him and kissed her. First slowly, gently, reveling in the taste of her, then harder, almost desperately, as if he couldn't get enough, as if his tongue couldn't go deep enough. Which it couldn't.
"Who owns your mouth, kitten?"
"You do, Master, you own my mouth."
His hands began to explore her breasts, cupping them, caressing them, eliciting sighs and moans, until he took the nipple of her left breast between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed and twisted progressively harder until she cried out in pain and pleasure.
"Who owns your breasts, kitten? Who owns your nipples?"
"You do, Master," she gasped. "You own my breasts. You own my nipples."
He reached down, he reached down and yanked at the thong until the strap broke. He reached down to the overflowing bowl of honey over which he had been salivating for months, that warm, wet, silky pool that inspired erections nightly and, far too often, daily as well. He
penetrated her with his fore and middle fingers, and his current erection nearly burst his jeans.
"Who owns your cunt, kitten?" his voice with hoarse with desire.
"You do, Master. You own my cunt. No one but you."
Regretfully, he withdrew his fingers. He couldn't wait until later, when they would return, followed by his tongue. Followed by his cock. Later.
"Kneel, kitten."
She slid off the bench and assumed the position of perfect submission. Kneeling, now completely naked, knees spread as wide as she could manage, her pussy open to him, available to him, offered to him. Head bent down, eyes beneath the blindfold cast down.
Placing his fingers under her chin, his fingers that were still wet with her juices, he tilted her head up, and completed the catechism.
"Who owns you, kitten?"
And overwhelmed with joy and desire, she replied,
"You own me, J---.
You do.
You know you do."
And he removed the blindfold.
They gazed at each other, drinking in features, adjusting the vague images they had held in their minds for so long. They sank into each other's eyes.
But there was no time now for self-indulgence. He reached into the small shopping bag by his side and pulled out a wide strip of leather, embossed with Celtic knots. He leaned towards her, and fastened the it around her neck. It was the long-promised collar. Reaching once more into the bag, he took out a chain, and fastened one end to a D-ring on the collar, slipping the loop of leather at the other end around his wrist.
"Stand up, kitten. Stand up, my slave."
She did her best to be graceful. And was surprised by how embarrassed she now felt at standing naked before him. She blushed and looked away.
He ignored her discomfort. And opening the door of the little dressing room, led her out into the store.
It was time for his final exam. The course? Dom 101.
The philosopher begins:
(Here's a story for you kitten. . .I hope you like it. It will give you something to masturbate to. . . even though you are forbidden to masturbate tonight. It's a bit rough as stories go. . . but leaves room for all sorts of interesting elaborations. . .perhaps my naughty little kitten can add to it. . .)
My little kitten is nervous.
She was told the rules of the game, and she was nervous. "Rules" she thought. . .there was just the one: "Obey". The rest was in the hands of her master, who would never hurt her.
But still. . .
The phone rang, interrupting her thoughts and bringing her back to the present moment, the present location. Which was noon, at Union Station. She was sitting near a public phone, and it was this whose ringing had startled her. She swallowed hard. . . and answered.
"Go to the newsstand, kitten. Go to the stack of Cosmopolitan. . . the third one from the bottom."
Then a click. The game had begun.
She went to the newsstand, and obtained what she hoped was the correct magazine. It was: as she flipped through it, an index card fluttered to the ground. It read:
"Lost and Found. Manila envelope marked Odile Roissy."
She went to the lost and found, and inquired if anyone had turned in a large manila envelope with the name "Odile Roissy" on it. Someone had. . . and since it didn't seem to be valuable. . . the man behind the desk handed it over to her without seeing ID. Was he smiling as he did it? Did he know why your cheeks were burning?
She opened the envelope, to find a smaller envelope, and a note.
"Open in private".
She went to the ladies room, waited for an empty stall, and when she was alone, opened the smaller envelope. It contained a bright red thong, and further instructions.
"Put this on. Leave old panties behind. Go to bookstore. Story of O, page 43."
She did so, blushing furiously. The thing was thin and silky. . . offering her pussy hardly any protection at all. She may as well be nude. . .except that it was so smooth and silky. . .it felt soooo goood! She hung her old panties on the stall's coathook (a boldness that should earn her extra points, she thought) and left quickly, lest anyone should find them too quickly.
Exiting the restroom, she looked around. That must be the bookstore. . . a Barnes and Noble that catered to the commuter.
She found the only volume of the novel, and checked page 43. Sure enough, a message was scribbled there.
"Take a taxi to your favorite department store. Women's clothing section. Go to dressing room. Remove everything but the thong. Do not lock the door. Find package under seat."
She followed these instructions to the letter. The package hidden under the dressing room chair contained a message and an object. . . an object that made her catch her breath. The message read:
"Put this on and wait."
The object was a blindfold. She put it on.
And waited. . . all but naked, unable to see. The dressing rooms were monitored against shoplifters; what must the security guards be thinking? The thought made her cheeks burn even more. But she was good. . . she obeyed, sitting absolutely still, and straight, her legs parted slightly.
It seemed like hours that she waited. . . but she couldn't be sure.
Finally. . . the door to the dressing room creaked open slowly. . . she felt a finger tug at her thong, rubbing it against her by now soaking wet pussy. . . and the pounding of her heart almost obscured the whispered voice that appeared right next to her ear:
"Good kitten"
- - - - - - - - - - -
Thank you, Master.
i always like your stories.
i always like your messages.
i like everything you've every written to me.
when you bought me at the slave market,
you paid with words.
part of me wants to write the next chapter. part of me likes leaving it hanging. it is the unknown, the anticipation, the fear, which is always so exciting.
on the other hand, in addition to inciting flames, the story raised questions and comments. some are nitpicking, but sometimes i can't help getting out my red pencil... on the other hand...
1. would you like to have me wearing a thong? once i have money coming in again, i could get one, just for you. pink, if that's what you would prefer. or red, or whatever... a ritual object for me to put on at the beginning of any long session. i want to please you, i want to excite you.
2. once again you stirred up the warm feelings. warm feelings in my heart, as opposed to the burning in my cunt. when right off, you spoke of [my] master, who would never hurt [me]. you make me feel so safe, so treasured, so embraced and calm and happy. and you draw the net
tighter around me. even the tigress doesn't really want to break free.
3. something slipped right by me when i read it the first couple of times. how could i have been so slow? it only just clicked. now i know where it's going, at least now that it is in my hands. in my mind. thank you.
4. in the nit-picking category. i'll assume you'd know what was my favorite department store... tho do i actually have one? i don't dress like a normal Washington career woman, so either i go up to LL Bean's or to shops with pretty, brightly-colored rayon clothes, little tops to wear with jeans or khaki pants, which cling and show off my nipples... but in any case, you would have needed to specify which changing room within the dressing room. there are lots. (and i sure hope they don't REALLY have secret cameras looking into the rooms! that's a whole other movie... :-)
and now i will write...
- - - - - - - - - -
She gasped, and tears rose to her eyes, until they were as wet as her tantalized pussy. . . tears of relief, and, more than anything, tears of joy.
Until now now, she had assumed there had been a local accomplice. A friend from grad school, perhaps? (He must have SOME friends, somewhere, despite that fact that he almost never mentioned any.) Or perhaps a stray sibling; there were so many, it wasn't unlikely that one occasionally wandered down to DC. And there was no reason the accomplice needed to know the contents of the envelope, or of the package, or even the meaning of the index card.
She knew he had been testing her. But she never suspected what the reward would be for getting an A.
The reward was that voice. And the man who went with it.
"My perfect slave," the familiar voice now whispered. "My tigress. My selkie."
"My master..." she breathed, in wonderment and gratitude. "My master!"
She turned her face towards him, this man she knew so intimately, this man with whom she spent hours every night, this man whom she had never seen, whose picture she had never even seen, but who ruled her body and mind.
She still couldn't see him. She was still blindfolded. But it didn't matter. He was there.
He pulled her to him and kissed her. First slowly, gently, reveling in the taste of her, then harder, almost desperately, as if he couldn't get enough, as if his tongue couldn't go deep enough. Which it couldn't.
"Who owns your mouth, kitten?"
"You do, Master, you own my mouth."
His hands began to explore her breasts, cupping them, caressing them, eliciting sighs and moans, until he took the nipple of her left breast between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed and twisted progressively harder until she cried out in pain and pleasure.
"Who owns your breasts, kitten? Who owns your nipples?"
"You do, Master," she gasped. "You own my breasts. You own my nipples."
He reached down, he reached down and yanked at the thong until the strap broke. He reached down to the overflowing bowl of honey over which he had been salivating for months, that warm, wet, silky pool that inspired erections nightly and, far too often, daily as well. He
penetrated her with his fore and middle fingers, and his current erection nearly burst his jeans.
"Who owns your cunt, kitten?" his voice with hoarse with desire.
"You do, Master. You own my cunt. No one but you."
Regretfully, he withdrew his fingers. He couldn't wait until later, when they would return, followed by his tongue. Followed by his cock. Later.
"Kneel, kitten."
She slid off the bench and assumed the position of perfect submission. Kneeling, now completely naked, knees spread as wide as she could manage, her pussy open to him, available to him, offered to him. Head bent down, eyes beneath the blindfold cast down.
Placing his fingers under her chin, his fingers that were still wet with her juices, he tilted her head up, and completed the catechism.
"Who owns you, kitten?"
And overwhelmed with joy and desire, she replied,
"You own me, J---.
You do.
You know you do."
And he removed the blindfold.
They gazed at each other, drinking in features, adjusting the vague images they had held in their minds for so long. They sank into each other's eyes.
But there was no time now for self-indulgence. He reached into the small shopping bag by his side and pulled out a wide strip of leather, embossed with Celtic knots. He leaned towards her, and fastened the it around her neck. It was the long-promised collar. Reaching once more into the bag, he took out a chain, and fastened one end to a D-ring on the collar, slipping the loop of leather at the other end around his wrist.
"Stand up, kitten. Stand up, my slave."
She did her best to be graceful. And was surprised by how embarrassed she now felt at standing naked before him. She blushed and looked away.
He ignored her discomfort. And opening the door of the little dressing room, led her out into the store.
It was time for his final exam. The course? Dom 101.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
