Taking Your time, my sweet sadistic Master. 💜
From the time i’ve been aware of my personality and what is at my core, submission has been my home. It’s where i feel safe, able to give and live authentically without hiding behind whatever mask i was forced to wear. Acts of service are what i live for… knowing what family and others need, being aware enough to anticipate it and HELP, even in vanilla situations.
My ex-husband, who has become a dear friend after honest communication about our failings and forgiveness, disrespected me as i was trying to help him solve a problem today. He became frustrated with his computer, short with an online banker and downright hostile with me.
Being with Master, i have learned to not only show respect, but also to expect it in return. Communication, honesty and compassion are values i hope to honor and exemplify as a submissive and slave; it took all i had not to expose my true self to my ex. Sadly though, all he would have processed about M/s is kinky sex, punctuated by self-righteousness and judgment. Acts of service would have been dismissed with rolled eyes and contempt, so i bit my tongue. Needless to say, tasha is beating up on me pretty well tonight for not speaking our truth. Oh, how i wish the world could be more accepting!!
“Need is not weakness. Need is need.” i am Your wanton, dripping slave, Master. 💜
I feel intimidated when He walks into the room. Even when we are in a populous milieu where I can barely hear myself think, I feel His breath…I hear His voice….panting…sweating…goosebumps.
There is a dark side to Mastery and I want to know what that tastes like, even if I must be force fed. I want to be the embodiment of His sins and my own. I want Him to draw blood and drain the cancerous turpitude from my body then, drink it all surreptitiously so that He may phlebotomize me again, whenever he so pleases. Use me Master. Why else do I kneel to you? This is all yours, be fucking responsible with your stress. Remove the daily albatrosses from your neck and place them around mine. Take my breath away, in the way this little slave needs, Master.
You know everything about all yet, there is an aspect…
View original post 788 more words
As i answered Your call, a growl roughly addressed, “I’ve been waiting. Where have you been and are we alone?” my response was a weak and inadequate, “Here, Master. Yes, W/we are.” Twenty strikes to Your cunt, counted aloud, yet not slowly enough, brought tears and surges of sweet pain. A breast received an equal number of swats, punctuated by Your primal, “Harder!!” Fingers plunged urgently into swollen cunt, ass invaded, clit strummed viciously.
“Beg Me, tell Me you’re My slut!” Lost in U/us, i breathlessly follow Your command, “i am Your slut, Your cunt… please may i come for You, Master? Oh, pl-llll-ease??” W/we haven’t been alone in weeks, “I want it loud!”, You snarl. Pent up screams erupt violently from my core for Your pleasure as a juicy river gushes like a West Virginia flood.
“Why do you need to cum, slut?”
“It is breath, life, my Master.”
“you are my slut and slave. I love you.”
“i love You, my Master…”
O/our quickie ended as staccato, hearing my roommate slam the front door below.
It was more of a voice than an apparition. Soothing, yet with an edge. And I was awake, somewhat lucid. “You consider yourself a Dom? Dominant?” ‘Well, yes, all things considered.’ “Do you think of you yourself as a Guru?” ‘Never thought of it that way.’ “Do you take care, responsibility for someone? Do you cherish them?” ‘Yes. It’s just not that easy’ “Why would it be? Perhaps this is happiness. And you have surpassed the G. You are now Uru. There’s many of them about.” ‘Thank you! Never liked that G anyway. I’ll talk to” – “NO!”. Who is that voice? A journey for me too! Proud to be who I think I am. A.
It was different, but very vivid. Being Dominant still includes learning, growing, experiencing.
And there we were. Are?
I have dates in the morning! Too excited to sleep! Sassafras needs a collar, and perhaps I’ll fashion a feline footline for her. Then there’s Skylar. He’s about 112 years old. But, he LOVED Louis Tiant. And he pitched forever. Simon is, well, Simon. The young Beagle buck. He’s in training. To be a, well, dog.
Yes, I am taking the animules out to breakfast! Just a prelude…