He grips me hard and my stomach is knotted in a ball of erotic tension as my body awaited his. I become lost in a heightened state as he roughly moved me over his knees, trapping my legs between His … Continue reading
It’s palpable…this need in me.
I feel it streak my chest – zig zag through my heart,
Through my stomach…those butterflies…they live on.
They have been active these past few days…
Every so often relieving themselves of their self imposed chrysalis of self preservation…
Awakening when You come alive in my mind uninvited.
It is you who streaks through my chest…through my heart….through my stomach
Just as you did, just as you have always done and just as you always will.
The physical presence may not be felt anymore, but the feelings, the memories, the need is as alive as ever was.
There is nothing can be done about that…I have tried. I cast you aside in my mind, but you are bigger than my mind can manage now – I cannot contain you or cordon you off as I once could.
And so I sit with the feelings; the pain, the lust, the pleasure, the need, the wanting, the aching, the masochistic desire to feel it all despite knowing it cannot be mine, or real. Why?
The question will hang over me for the rest of my time on this earth…something so perfect. Something so unending…something so much bigger than us both, must remain hidden away, a dirty secret only we know. The Master and submissive of our own destiny now…but yet my obedient heart longs still for what it had.
The mind can only keep control for so long before the heart will swallow it whole and drown me once again in the past.
That is where you will find me Sir, until the tide of You once again retreats when I will be left to be comforted by another, for reasons he cannot ever understand.
And so the cycle will continue.
As he held me in place phsycially – my face pressed into the matress, my ass forced up high to where he liked it – I found in me once again, that space in my mind I always craved. Where thoughts … Continue reading
Just found this poem written in September…
You were just you, but now you are
My everything and more
Without your strength and guidance
Id be lost as I was before.
Though I didn’t expect you to mend me
To counsel or to heal
your love gave me space to breathe again
To feel whole, complete and real.
The world began to make sense again
You were sent to make me see
Though I’d been damaged before, and broken
What remained was not truly me.
The shell must have been knocked,
Of the armour I’d built up
As it failed to protect me from you
From your unquestioning accepting love.
I never meant to fall,
I was hard to it I thought,
But my heart had other plans for me
I needed to be taught…
That just because some must men fail
And must abdicate the crown
There are others out there, just a few
Who will never let you down.
And these ones are as rare and sweet
as a precious gem or stone.
So now you are simply not allowed
To step down from your throne.
Your strength made me queen once again
I am purposeful and sure
And I thank you for your unquestioning self
Your love all mine and pure
I crouch there in child pose on the bed letting the time wash over me; allowing the peace and solitude to clear away the wasted emptiness sub’s heart feels when apart from Him.
All that emotion and sensation, love and burning desire chained away, it’s safer there, but always waiting for its’ moment of release, which can only be brought forth by another.
Still He had not come for her. And so I waited longer still in this silence to allow her time to feel what she needs to feel in these moments when she feels brave enough to come forth.
Huddled in this comforting self hug, my head resting gently on the matress, eyes quietly, peacefully shut, arms outstretched in front of me, palms turned up and reaching out for only empty air which is all they will find there. Bent in two like this, I feel her heart beat slowly and steadily, hungrily and sadly against my knees…it’s as patient as she is though.
A yearning for something intangible rolls silently and vastly through my body; she is rocked by it and I feel her reacting so physically to it from my objective view point of Self. Sub is locked away without these moments of freedom and solice, and whilst without a guide to shepherd her, I take that place of Him, caring for my lonely beautiful submissive little girl, because she is mine. I am hers. We are one and the same and yet so incredibly seperate.
She is quieter now, she slips into reality less and less frequently, tending generally to let me take the lead, which of course is what she knows best. But when she comes out I let her have her time; she wants to take over my mind and my body and I let her, because my self and my sub support one another when no one else knows how to.
She craves a Dominant, and I crave it too on her behalf, but above and beyond being any Dominant’s, at times when we are free from a leader, she is mine to love and cherish. And in these moments of quiet, still silence, when it is just me and mostly her curled round one another on the bed, drinking in the bliss of being brave enough to be free, if only just for a short while before she needs to retreat back in and bring her strength Self back, we take joy in one another. Pleasure at having the company of a similar yet different self….I drift between her mind and mine and enjoy the differences, the similarities, the desires, the yearning, the unquenched needs of her…and the regularly fulfilled needs of my own.
Both so different yet, one and the same.
My little submissive shadow and me
“I expected more” he said to me as I dropped down to my knees
I hung my head the shame ripped through and I stared down at the floor.
“I’m sorry” I whispered but barely heard, I looked up my eyes implored
But his eyes stayed hard his posture straight I knew what was in store.
“You’ll remain here for an hour, right there where you are, don’t move, or talk, even sigh”
“When the time is up i’ll return and from there we will discuss your little lie.”
He left me then and my eyes filled up, I was sad but knew it was deserved
I should have paid attention, done what was right, been a good girl: sweet and reserved.
The time dragged on the world slowed down though my heart picked up its pace
My breath came fast, my mind raced on as I sunk into my submissive’s space.
Finally I heard the latch lift up, felt his presence enter into the room
I felt so small, so bad and so ashamed, and sunk further into my gloom.
The ball gag pushed against my now dry lips; I opened up wide as I was trained.
Tightened up hard, the cuffs followed next & i knew I was in for some pain.
The paddle, oh no, I hate that thing, it marks and burns and welts
But his hand’s on my head as he leads me to bed and the fear inside me melts.
I’m his little, I’ve been bad, but I know it’s ok, he’ll punish with only what’s fair
I’ll take the pain, and be good again, he’s just showing me how much he cares.
So I lie there as pain rains down on my skin, I cry and I beg for no more
But he continues on teaching the lesson I need, I’m feeling so painful, so sore.
Then the tirade of fire ceases it’s angry attack and his hands begin to assuage
The burning I’m feeling, my poor reddened skin has flared into a terrible rage.
The cool of the oil, the touch of his hands, the soothing words into my ear
The worst is now over, the love can pour back no more worry, or upset or fear.
My heart now feels open, my guilt feels released, I am freed and my body unfurls
“Well done my sub, your lesson is done, now come here my sweet little girl.”
When night time surrounds me
And day time surrenders
When spirits come to revel in the dark hours’ splendours
When the pale of the moon glares white against black
When reality fades and my mind wanders back.
I know I should pick up my heart and march on…
But dark memories call and I’m pulled off track.
The whip with its crack and the hand with its smack
The cane with its whoosh as it’s forced through the air
The feel of His fingers caught tight in my hair.
The paddle so hard, bringing tears to my eyes
Before slippery wetness would course down my thighs.
Deprivation of sight, and touch and sound
The feel of my knees forced down to the ground.
The longing for more and the relief of its pain
A slight pause, a caress, before starting again.
Too much, then I’m gone, lost in true sub space
At His feet, head bowed; I knew my place.
Cuffs bound tightly, or ropes pulled taut
The bliss of having my hands safely caught.
Straddling the chair or over His knee
He always knew where I needed to be.
Good girl, or brat, little or pet
Each of His girls were a perfect set.
Slut and princess, all in a club
But favourite of all of course was His sub.
She took what was needed with thanks at the end
She’d straddle or kneel or suck or bend.
The perfect mix of all of the girls
Brat’s stamping foot or good girls’ cute curls.
I remember them all – they are always with me
And the memories of blisters, and welts and bruised knees
I keep them locked up, fenced off in my mind
With the those pink fairy lights surrounding the shrine.
So when night time surrounds me and day time surrenders
These spirits come to revel in my dark minds’ splendours
When the pale of the moon glares white against black
My reality fades and my mind wanders back…