Kneeling before Him...
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Wednesday, December 03, 2003
(Technical note) I have a banner. I have it hosted. I have tried to get another site to link to the banner image. It works when it feels like it, more often I get a blank box with a red cross in the corner. Anyone out there that knows why PLEASE EMAIL ME? Thankyou. (end of technical note.)
It was pointed out to me this morning, this is my blog and if I can't be true to myself here, then I may as well forget it. Please remember, these are just my thoughts.
A couple of days back I said that Mac feels He is dominant, but not 'a dominant'. Chelle wrote to me today to tell me she had expanded on this reflection. She wrote beautifully and explained her relationship well and a lot of it ties into Mac and I.
I am not sure I made myself completely clear about O/our relationship though, so I just thought of something I should add. Mac, for want of a different word, is my Master. He is the one in control in O/our relationship. He is my guide and my conscience and my strength. He drowns out the background noise when I need to rest and He takes care of the things I can't deal with, encourages me to deal with the things I need to and at times, breaks those things down into smaller tasks so that I am not overwhelmed. My wellbeing is something He takes very seriously. He is my LPF (lover, protector, friend) and it is something He does naturally without much thought.
When I say Mac is not 'a dominant', I think people see that word in different ways. Maybe the word I should use is domineering, the type of guy that always needs to be in control. Anyway, there is an example of the type I mean below.
My first experience with 'a dominant' was bad. He had left His relationship with his wife because he had discovered he was a dominant and when he confessed this to his wife, she laughed. I now understand why she did.
He spent a lot of time talking me into this relationship, offering me a world I didn't know about, one he promised I would feel at home in. I had always felt so lost, so I thought this might be something I was looking for. We were pretty much doomed from the second week in. I started to devour books and essays and articles and anything I could find on the psychology and the dynamics of a good D/s relationship. I became an educated submissive with a good understanding of who she was. He wanted me to sit at his feet so he could feel better about himself, he asked me to humiliate myself because he wanted people to know how good he was at being a dominant. He set me impossible tasks so that he could punish me when I failed. At the end of a month, I told him I was calling it over. He broke down and cried, begging me not to go, he NEEDED me, I couldn't leave him, he promised things would get better and sucker little subby that I am, I tried to stick it out.
I understood more about D/s in 6 weeks than he will ever understand in a lifetime. A typical conversation between us would go something like this:
Scene: Sitting in the family room, him on the couch, me on the floor at his feet. My favourite programme is on and it is about halfway through.
Him: go and clean the toilet
Me: what, now?
Him: because I said so
Me: (frowning) but I am watching this
Him: DO AS YOU ARE TOLD
Me: (getting pissy) I like this show.
Him:you are my submissive and I need you to obey me
Me: (pissier) but I am obeying you by sitting at your feet.
Him: that's not enough
Me: (really pissy) am I being punished?
Him: no but you are going to be, now go clean the fucking toilet.
And off I would go to pointlessly do something while missing out on something I enjoyed, not because I had done anything, just because he wanted to deny me that pleasure, he needed me to obey his every whim. I would feel like I had failed because I did not want to clean the toilet right then, I did not want to do what he said just because he said it, and then I would feel even worse later on when I was punished for being such a failure.
We lasted three months, and I was emotionally and physically drained by the end of it. I felt a failure, I felt humiliated and I didn't think I could ever face anyone again.
The irony of it is, men like him, these men that need to be in control are the ones that seek out submissive women and they are the last type of man a submissive woman needs. They will drag her down, ruin her self-esteem and leave her when she has nothing left for him to take. I guess something that I want people to understand is that submission doesn't have to be like that. Mac and I have a beautiful nurturing relationship that makes me feel like I can fly. For the first time in my life I don't need to be afraid.
Chelle also said today that her relationship felt constantly 'new'. I often feel as though I have fallen in love with Mac all over again. Yesterday He had a long day away from me, as He had to travel to the city by train for business meetings and wouldn't be home until late. When He was leaving I stood beside the door to kiss Him goodbye and made a silly little joke about having to have phone sex, as He would be so far away. He touched my cheek and said, 'you are gorgeous. Have I told you lately that I love you?' And He kissed me so wonderfully soft and gentle that when it was over I had tears in my eyes and I thought later on how beautiful it is that just a kiss can still overflow me with love for Him. I really am a lucky girl.
Now it's time for a quick little fantasy.
He sat on the train listening to the roar of the engine and the quiet inside the cabin. The train was booked solid and every seat full and the lack of room was making Him feel claustrophobic. The large man in the seat next to Him smelt of sweat and kept sniffing and it was all He could do not to elbow him in the ribs and tell him to use a tissue. He hated the train, He hated travelling and He just wanted to be home with her. He checked His watch for the hundredth time. Still forty-five minutes to go. He wondered what she was doing right now.
He started to imagine her, lying on their bed. She would be naked, waiting for Him, wanting Him. She always wanted Him, was always ready for Him and loved so much to please Him that He couldn't get enough of her. He thought about her body, the rise of her breasts, curve of her belly and the cleanly waxed skin of her pussy. He could see her with her legs wide open, her fingers slowly circling her swollen clitoris. He imagined her moan and He unconsciously licked His lips. As He watched, she dragged her fingers up her body, leaving a wet sticky trail of juices behind them. She painted her nipples, taking the time to tease them into hard peaks before sucking her fingers clean and letting them drop to her cunt again. He heard her moan again and His cock throbbed in His pants. He was suddenly very grateful for the jacket that lay across His lap.
He wondered what she would think about as her fingers stroked her clitoris. Would it be His tongue probing at her, or perhaps His cock filling her, or maybe she thought about someone different all together? That guy that she had sucked the other night, or the ex-boyfriend that had tied her to the table, or could it be that girl that she found so attractive at the party? What could it be that made her body writhe in pleasure and made her moan so salaciously? He wanted to know, needed to know and promised Himself He would ask her when He got home.
The shrill electronic ring of a phone brought Him back to the reality of the train. People glared at Him as fumbled through His pockets looking for the noise. He scowled when He found it, angry at being reminded of where He was.
'What!' He said as He put the phone to His ear and He thought He heard a whimper in reply.
'Hello?' He asked and then He heard her moan, soft and deep and He realised that she was about to come. He held His breath and pressed the phone closer to His ear.
'Now' she gasped and He could hear the waves of pleasure travel through her body. He imagined her body shuddering, her back arching, her cunt clenching tightly on her fingers as she came. He closed His eyes and listened to every last gasping breath she took until she sighed deeply in satisfaction.
'Bitch' He growled and she giggled in return. 'I am on the train!' He protested and He could almost see her smug little grin.
'Hard?' she asked, 'Throbbing?'
'Put it this way girl, you had better be ready for Me when I get home.'
She laughed and told Him she loved Him and she hung up the phone.
He tucked the phone back into His pocket and shifted in His seat trying to find a comfortable position for His painfully throbbing cock. He looked at His watch, thirty more minutes. She had made Him ache for her. He was going to make sure she was left aching from His use.
Well, a girl can dream, can't she?