To Sir, With Love

That's so cute that He says His "alternate" is available for vanilla meetings.
His "alternate" is about as vanilla as Chunky Monkey.

(I know vanilla. I was married to vanilla. You, Sir, are no vanilla).

But I absolutely respect Sir's need for sabbatical... I don't know what's going on with Him. I have some vague ideas, but He tends to keep His own counsel and I respect that too.
And this pleasure-pain aspect requires a certain mindset. Trying to force that mindset would be false and dangerous.

Here's what I know:

This weird un-relationship has strange and ever-changing boundaries... it is so hard to define or categorize. It's hard to trust something that doesn't have firm edges, but there is nothing at all slippery or unstable about the basic friendship that is the foundation of everything there is between us.

When I have needed Him He has come without hesitation, so now I will wait for Him to need me.

And when He does I will do my best to be what He needs. Part of loving Him this way is patience... and adaptability. He knows that I will be here when He gets back, without demand or question.
I will listen if He needs to talk and I will talk if He needs to laugh.
I will turn out the lights and wrap myself around Him if He needs to sleep.

Oh Sir

Oh Sir, where are You?
Have You tired of our games?
My sins go unpunished-
skin pale and unmarked.

I need the sweetness of You
to bring me out of this blue, the
pain of You to help me find focus.

Pain Slut

I'm working my way up to it anyway...
There is one smacky thing that He used in a punishment that I didn't like AT ALL...
But I might eventually.

Just got "caught" at work putting binder clips on (already) exposed skin. You know, for fun.
(Some people file their nails at work, some self-inflict mild pain).

"Wow, doesn't that hurt?"
Um... yup.
And also, um... nope.
Even this little bit is enough for the endorphins to start.
My body is learning that pain is just a stimulant and in the right intensity and pressure actually feels really (really really) good.

It's not about sex... at least not when I am alone... but I am certainly aroused. It wouldn't take much from Him to push me over the edge.

But this pain is good pain and the adrenaline helps me focus...

Dreams of Him

At night my dreams of Him are fully formed.
Always gentle at first: that stroke of palm, that light breath on my skin. That loving body worship that feels so good... I would purr if I could.
I melt and puddle.
I become pliable.
I move in anticipation of lips, of hands so gentle.

Then rougher, more focused. Wanting me to almost come, almost find release...
But then He says it so soft, "No."
So soft in that voice that could find me in a crowd.
That voice that pushes me closer to orgasm.
I moan.
Then louder, more insistent, "No." Not a request. A command.

Then comes the pain. The falls curling over my back, around my legs. I am wet and wound up tight. I am careful not to come. I breathe deep and take it all in - pleasure pain and sexual tension. Higher and harder and just when I think I can't go any further He stops and it is His hands again on me. Praising me, loving me and finding the center of me for that release.

I pour through His hands, I give myself over completely for those long minutes.
I belong to Him.

My Mistress Responds

You may find me gentle, at first.
You may feel the soft yield of my flesh, so like yours.
You may perceive me as his opposite, his balance.
But he and I are much more alike than you think.
Perhaps much more alike that you want us to be.

I won't be gentle as I grab your hair and force your head between my legs.
I won't be gentle as I urge him, command him, to thrust into you harder, rougher as you obediently swallow all of my juices.
I won't want you to like it, but I know you will.
I won't be gentle as I wait for your tears to come, knowing I could stop it all, but refusing to even consider it.

And at the slightest, most minute transgression, I'll watch him punish you.
When he's done, when he's exhausted and you are very, very sorry,
You may find me gentle again.
Soothing with my hands all that he has opened.
Blessing you with my mouth for all that you have given.

Because it Pleases Him (1)

My love and devotion does have a Mistress... but She is just out of reach. I can talk to Her and laugh with Her... and tease Her with my desires... but I can not touch Her.

And I do want to.
Her softness contrasting with His hardness. Her gentleness with His fury.
I want them both.

I want to take it slow with Her.
I want to taste the delicate skin of Her neck, gently running my tongue over Her throat. I want to whisper my intentions in Her ear.
I want to kiss her, soft and deep and gentle, my hands light over the swell of her breasts.

And all of this wanting leaves me damp and tight, nipples straining through cotton. If I touch myself - find this release - He will not be pleased. There will certainly be punishment...

But not today.

Wanting

I have been challenging Him and deliberately disobeying Him - touching myself when He has told me not to, saying "no" and feeling the blue flash of his response. Lightning too far away to hear the thunder. Safe in the knowledge that there isn't time or privacy for Him to do anything about it. Knowing also that his memory is long and clear.

The anticipation is lovely.

I want Him to come to me in the night. I want to wake with the sudden weight of Him, to be touched by him so soft that I am almost lulled back to sleep. In that quiet, sweet voice I want him to tell me how bad I have been, how much I have displeased him.
And then I want Him to punish me for it. For all of it.
Softly at first, almost a caress. Then I want Him to show me that He means it.

I want the weight and depth of this punishment.
I want him to sweat with the force of it.
I want to be breathless and wordless.
I want to feel the sting of it for days.
I want to take him in my mouth and soothe this anger still.
I want to open myself to him and let him heal me.