A contract

For the first time with the help of my friends I crafted and printed out a contract. Something none of my previous dominants had ever done for me. Something I was both happy and sad about. On one hand I’m happy to give my boy the things I never had, and on the other I wish I had them.

But I printed the contract and gave it to him on Friday. We went through all the boxes talking about hard and soft limits. We read through all the expectations of our roles. We talked about acceptable punishment. And then we decided to put it away and allow for tine for it to percolate.

I explained to him how if I had ever been given a contract I would want to take the time to think it through. Not because internally I wouldn’t be doing back flips and eager to sign, but because as well as the joy I would be anxious. About letting my keeper down, if I was really capable of what they wanted from me, if I would be worse off if I signed and they no longer wanted me one day rather then they not wanting me one day minus the paper trail of our apparent strong bond. So i would probably want time to chew on it, and over think until I had myself in a ball of nerves.

Anyways, I’m not on that side of the slash now. Apparently I don’t have to over think now! Hah! I wish!! I still do, far to often.

We put the contract away and enjoyed our weekend. Feeling like a kinky couple where titles are given and play is had but the dynamic, it’s not running in tandem.

I’ve asked myself if my passion for my wants as a submissive in the past are smearing my wants for one of my own as a dominant. Wanting to see the need from the s type, the passion for the dynamic I had, that I still have just from the other side of the fence.

Then I get a message and he is expressing to me his eventual goal is to be my slave. It’s left me scratching my head. While he may see me as worthy our DS dynamic has hardly left the ground. I can’t wrap my head around how he can have such security in me, such steadfast conviction when I’ve yet to punish him. I’ve yet to make him do something he doesn’t want to simply because I see it fitting. I’ve yet to assign him tasks that aren’t simple and play like.

What happens when write my title on your skin becomes here is your collar your expected to always make the coffee and serve me first. When a gentle conversation about something I want becomes go hold a coin with your nose against the wall in silence so resistance is eventually wiped away.

All these things look so appealing in the mind. A kinky fantasy of ownership. I know all to well how it feels to be under someone’s control who doesn’t know how to use it. To be owned and not aloud to grow. I have little to go on how it feels to be owned and shaped, made better, enhanced, kept with pride.

The fear is he doesn’t either. Had a dominant tried to mold me I would have resisted from a place of preservation, not knowing any better, not wanting to lose what I was amidst their rebuilding.

Yet, he says slave and I wouldn’t know how to begin. How to maintain all the things that make him him without watering down the fact there is a want for a very real day to day dynamic on my end. So I sit on my side of the slash and think, and think. Time, as always, will reveal all.

Fall

With the changing of the weather and seasons I find myself going through some big emotional changes as well.

I’ve had a cold the past few days so I missed out on my weekly kink party.

I was able to enjoy a dinner with my boy, cards against humanity with my friend, and even manage to peg him for the first time.

Things should be good. For the most part they are. But thoughts of James still slip in to my mind unwelcome and unwanted with how they still manage to hurt me.

The other night when I was snuggled up to N feeling sick it reminded me of when James came late December. It was the first visit where he would meet my kids and see the home. Of course we both got sick. Curling in to N keeping the sadness from my voice as much as possible I told him how J would fetch us both pills. I swallowed down the want to whimper daddy and gazed off despondently.

I sleep with a stuffy, even when my boy is beside me. A desperate attempt to remind myself that once, to long ago, it was okay to be little, to be held, to suckle to fall asleep.

I think of the colouring stuff in the back of my closet. The books and crayons James got me just days before he left. How I sat at my dining room table the morning he was leaving me colouring in a princess with a hand that shook and tears that stained the page.

I thought my only comfort in him leaving me was to hide in my little, to keep myself hurried in pictures and studies and snuggles.

These days, I’m realizing I’m still broken. I’m still empty even though I surround myself with people and get lost in blows and men who kneel for me and orgasm after orgasm. I’m still hollow.

It’s a trap wanting a daddy or a keeper. It’s something I just can’t allow myself to have again. There has been to much damage. So I let myself get hit and tucked and try to craft a dynamic for someone that I wish I could have. And I push it down.

I push down the emptiness and fill it with friends and family and lovers. I hope in my dominance I’ll forget the hollow from the lack of my submission. I hope it’ll fade even just a little every time I bottom. I ignore the colouring books and crayons and hold my panda at night.

I’m fragile but I’m not bendable. Not for anyone any more. The only bending I do is to pick myself up. To kneel would be to let myself down. But god I miss it, and some days like today, it hurts.

When I put myself in the other side of the slash, and the S type doesn’t seem to respond as I did, it just feels off. I can’t escape in my dominance if it doesn’t provide the submissive with the escape.

Life is a sequence of showing us things we can’t quite grasp. To have a person isn’t to know them, to know a person isn’t to have them. To dominate isn’t to help someone let go if they don’t know how. To be dominated isn’t the safety it promises. Not always.

Fall is a funny time of year. So many dead crunchy leaves. Things once beautiful and bright now getting trampled. But then there is the crispness in the air. Chilling to the bone like a revival. A reminder it’s still possible to feel. For better end for worse.

Never go back

I’ve been seeing the memories on Facebook of how I was so in love with you.

Just yesterday my grandma asked about you. If you had spoken to me after you left.

The strange thing is it didn’t hurt so much. Not nearly as much as it had at the beginning of August when I thought it would never stop.

I’ve immersed myself so deeply in kink. In all the things you promised me but never really delivered.

I’ve stepped up as a dominant and down as a submissive. I’m learning how to be safe yet sexually free. I think I’ve slept with 4 people in the short time you’ve been gone.

I used to get under anyone just to try and get over you. Now I do so because I’m free of you. Now I do so because the ones who love me support me as I fumble through my journey without you.

I loath you still. For all the lies and games and damage you left. Yet these days I can see the upside.

You were my breaking point. And in your destruction you set me free from the bonds I allowed to hold me.

Now I’m stronger. I’m more explorative. I’m the dominant you never were and never will be. I’m the woman who is sexually free and encouraged to be so. I’m happy.

I’m a better mother, friend, lover and person. I could give you the ego stroke of saying you helped me discover these things by breaking me, but everyone knows they were always there.

Somehow it doesn’t hurt any more. Somehow I’ve left the sound of your voice and feel of your body behind. Somehow I know I would never ever go back.

Speaking the same language

The violin swells around us.

I’m glowing. You have put on the album again. Working it in to your music rotation.

Perhaps it’s because you remember how much joy it caused me to find she had a new album. How happy I was that you had been the one to show it to me.

Perhaps it’s because you also enjoy how she sounds. The swells and falls of the violin against the beats and vocal melodies.

Regardless of your reasoning, it’s a small thing that is noticed. The lighter sprinklings of your subservience to me. The things one could gloss over if not paying attention.

But I see you.

It’s not task completion. It’s not a title on your skin or a elaborately executed scene.

It’s grabbing the dogs food. It’s picking up ziplock bags. It’s holding me when I cry. It’s considering options to share more time together. It’s cutting my food.

I see you.

Your on my bed. Displaying your body to me like a offering. Waiting for me to hit you. I know the anticipation is just as thick for you as it is me. Yet I make you wait because I can.

I fill the room with the sounds of violin as I raise my arm to gift us both with the first blow.

My darling boy

We are speaking the same language

Wouldn’t come back

I knew I was going on a journey, I knew I wouldn’t come back.

The moment I lowered myself to my knees I was lost. Handing over myself so that if they ever left I would be forever changed.

And leave they did. Every one I lowered myself to the ground for. Every leg I wrapped around. Every knee i rested my chin on. Every lap I curled up on.

I knew I was going on a journey, I knew I wouldn’t come back.

The first time I felt the charge of a impact toy in my own hand, rather then the glorious flames it spread across my skin. The crack as it landed on someone other then me. Held in a dance of my breath and their gasps and moans. I was a captive of my own creation.

I knew I was going on a journey, I knew I wouldn’t come back.

The moment someone trusted me enough to kneel. When I was gifted with the privilege so many had taken for granted. The moment I took the control I hadn’t realized i needed all along.

I knew I was going on a journey, I knew I wouldn’t come back.

When your kinky, and a parent

My boy is on my bed. I’ve put on some music and taken my position behind him. His ass is in the air waiting for the sting of my dragons tongue.

I bring it down once softly to make sure the position is right. No to high. I step back and do so again. Perfect! I lift my arm preparing for a hard strike.

And then…

Do do

Do do

“Oh fuck no!”

Laying down the toy on the bed I walk over to my phone.

“Fucking baby shark!” I say through my laughs. “I can’t hit you to this!”

Changing the song I return to my position.

This is why we can’t have nice things!

Dropping mistress

When you want to knock me off my feet

Make me question if I’ve failed

When your words are suddenly harsh not sweet

And the wind is ripped from my sales

You drop away my title

That this dynamic was meant to build

Something I believed was vital

That with anger you could kill

Yet you come to me in tatters

And you cry upon my chest

Though my dominance feels shattered

My own turmoil I suppress

Is it not my job to hold you tight

When everything is going wrong

I didn’t say it wasn’t right

How it felt so simple for my title to be gone

The next morning held regret

For how in haste you acted

Submission felt like a debt

Where payment could be extracted

Yet I have stood where you do now

Subservient with regret

Wanting to make it better somehow

Anything they wanted I would let

And mindful of the pain I felt

When their anger made them happy to take

I was careful of the correction i dealt

As my submissive I never want to break

So regardless of the bitter sting

That the dynamic had been turned on its head

I held you close and said nothing

While you wrapped around me in bed

Today your gone for another week

And once again my head is spinning

You made my dominance feel meek

And that’s a battle I must be winning

There is sadness for how easy you made it look

To speak my name in anger

The believe in our foundation has been shook

And here we sit in danger

Submission is so much more

Then getting hit and getting fucked

It’s remembering the one you should adore

And never dropping mistress when it sucks

Sometimes it’s the sting of facts

That could be hard to hear

And trusting in your keepers tact

That your best interest is always clear

A successful plan

When he walked in the door she was immediately filling his space. Sliding her hands over him through his clothes, eager to claim what belonged to her.

Pressing him against the wall she pushed her body against his with a pent up frustration that sent her nerve endings in to a maddening frenzy. It had been a long day waiting for her boy to return to her. One spent with her mind crafting all kinds of delicious ideas. What good was a toy if one didn’t put it to use?

Reaching up she tucked her finger under his collar and gave it a tug. Lowering his lips so she could capture them. Sinking her teeth in to his lower lip, tangling her hands in his hair.

“Go get changed,” she breathed in his ear. Capturing it between her teeth she nipped him playfully. Smacking his ass as he began to walk away.

Watching him walk up to the bedroom she covered her mouth with her hand to silence her laughter. Picking out just the right outfit had been half the fun. From above she could hear the sound of his belt hitting the floor. Smirking she waited.

And waited.

Her boy could sometimes be a brat, but she knew the dance well. Walking across the living room she picked up the strap on belt she had placed beneath a blanket on the couch. Shaking her head at the two dildos laid out in front of her she allowed her fingers to ghost over them. The plan had been to use the smaller one. She did hate to be kept waiting though.

He cleared his throat from behind her and she jumped. Laughing at herself inside her head at her domly Demeanor she turned to take him in.

He had figured out what the hair ties were for and put his hair in pigtails. The skirt was short, made even shorter by how tall he was. The top was tight and low cut. Knowing what was beneath them made her even more eager.

Stepping up to him she lifted the skirt. Black lace was a welcome view. “Your a slow little whore,” she hissed, digging her nails in to his thigh.

“Sorry mistress,” he said, keeping his eyes down and trying not to wiggle from the sting of her nails.

“I think you were making me wait, because you want the bigger one.” She motioned to the dildos. “Is that what you want? To get fucked with that big hard cock?”

He didn’t respond and she stepped even closer to him. Lifting her hand her fingers firmly gripped his chin. “You, my darling, are being a very naughty boy. Don’t think I don’t realize it’s all part of your plan. Down,” motioning to the floor.

He went to his knees. The skirt hiking up as he did so. Even from this angle he was almost as tall as her. Turning his head to the side she leaned it against her body.

“This is for not answering my question.” A soft touch of her hand on his cheek to find her target. Then a swift slap.

Even in her displeasure her adoration was apparent from how she made sure his head rested against her body. Her fingers painted his cheek lovingly. “And this is for always being such a brat.” Tenderly she turned his head, exposing the other cheek. Once again the gentle touch for orientation before a sharp crack.

Then she was yanking him up by the hair. If he wanted to resist, her small frame would be powerless to push him around, yet he was like clay to her. Letting her push him to the couch, sinking down to his knees and exposing his ass to her.

“Good boy,” she said. Her voice shook with excitement. It always made her eager, the control he gave her over him. Sometimes her hands would even tremble as she would slide them over his bound frame.

Today they were steady as she flipped up the skirt exposing the lace underwear beneath. “You look like such a mess, all disheveled in your want to be fucked. Now my boy, lets try this again. How do you want to be taken?”

“With the big one mistress, because I made you wait.”

Her hands wrapped around the pigtails and pulled, forcing him to look up at her. “And how do we ask for things?” Her voice was low and her eyes were dark.

“I think I just did,” he said. The air in the room grew thick. In his hair her nails found his scalp.

“Turn around,” her voice was a whisper.

He did swiftly. Happy for the release of his hair.

Stepping back from him she took off her clothes. Knowing his cage was probably already causing him difficulties. “I was going to let you out,” she said as her hands slid over her breasts. “So that you could fill me,” her fingers slipped between her legs as her pants fell to the floor. “But I think I’ll make you stay. So you’ll remember your fucking manners.” Her underwear followed her pants.

Her head tilted back and her eyes closed as she slipped her fingers inside her already soaked pussy. “Don’t you dare move,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Yes mistress,” his voice wasn’t so playful now. It was softer, just the way she liked it.

“Tell me,” she breathed, “tell me how much you ache for me in this moment my darling. Give me your need.” Her legs began to tremble as she began to work her clit with the other hand.

“I want you so bad. I’m so hard for you, only for you. Your so beautiful. I need you. I’m all yours mistress.”

Her moans cut off his words as stars sparked from behind her eyelids. “Oh god, good boy!” she gasped out, forgetting briefly she was meant to be punishing him for being a brat. Opening her eyes she took him in. Still on his knees, gazing up at her like she was the only thing he ever wanted to see. “God I love you,” she whispered it before she could swallow it down.

He didn’t break his gaze, even as she felt her cheeks flushing.

“Turn around darling,” she said, trying to regain control of her voice. Her thighs were slick as she walked back over to him.

“Open your mouth,” she said, and slipped the fingers that had been inside her in. “It could have been your tongue my darling boy,” she was nuzzling his ear as she whispered, “but someone wanted to play games.”

He whimpered and wiggled. “Please,” his voice was full of need.

“Lucky for you that you have such a forgiving mistress.” Her hand pulled his hair once again. “Right?”

Moaning now “yes mistress, I’m lucky, please, oh god.”

“Does it hurt my darling?” she said, a soft chuckle in her voice. “Did you really think when I hold your keys you could play these games?”

“No, I was, I just…”

“Just what!” She hissed and pulled his head to lean against her as she smacked his face again. This time her orientation was not as loving and more from a place of safety.

His breath caught and he whimpered again.

“You have two choices, you can end this scene, as you can any scene with a single word, or you can give me what I want and if your lucky I might change my mind. How deep does this run for you my boy? Call it or break for me, make your choice.”

“Mistress,” his voice was all breath now, “please,” the word was like a final tie as the tears started to fall. “I need you, please.”

“That’s it,” she wrapped around him from behind. “Good boy,” her own voice thick from her own emotion from his devotion. Taking his face from behind and turning his head to lick and kiss away his tears. “My darling creature, I have you, I’ve got you, you are mine. You make me so proud.”

He didn’t speak only pressed in to her, quivering with the realization of the vulnerabilities that had just been shared.

Leaning over she unlocked his cage and released his cock. Caressing it softly to ease the discomfort. “I’m still fucking your ass,” she said. The annoyance in her voice was replaced with tenderness.

“Yes mistress.” The bratiness in his replaced with full subservience.

“Good boy,” she said while petting his messy hair. Smirking to her self she stepped in to the strap on. Her plan had been a success.

I will

When the words run out

And we are left with silence

One that is made thick by being apart from you

I will be a constant

Even as our minds spin

Creating scenarios that fluster

Ones that if given the power could divide us

We will fend them off

When the time drags on

Until it feels like forever

Until we can be in one another’s space

I will count the hours

When the weight of you

And your head on my chest

Feels more like a blanket then the ones that cover us

I will know your home

Captivated

When talking with a friend about giving him ideas of pictures to draw this visual came in to my head. It’s been circling around for a while and now I find myself wanting to write a narrative for the image in my mind.

Enjoy!

While the times that she chose to surface would change, he always seemed to be waiting. No matter if the sun was shining, or the stars twinkled in the sky, when she pulled herself up on to her rock there he to would be.

She only need look across the waters she knew to be her home to see him on his knees. His eyes searching the waves for her head to break them. His body still in his silent worship.

This time had been much like the others. She had pulled herself out of the blue depths. Her tail trailing in to the water as she leaned against the rock. Sometimes she envied it in it’s structure. So visible in its glory, protruding from the ocean without a care in the world with no secrets to keep.

The wind blew a few strands of her hair in to her face. The scent of the ocean mixed with the scent of land as she pushed it back behind her ear. still a few of its ends tickled her cheek.

He was there as he had always been. A constant in a world she knew little of. Kneeling on the beach close to the waters edge. She wondered if it was cold on his skin, as the air was on hers.

Then he lifted his head, and for the first time their eyes met. She didn’t know if it was the wind or his gaze that made her bones rattle in her frame.