The Major (Part IV)

A shiver runs through me at her words, and i stay where i am, on my knees, head to the floor, ass raised in the air.  i hear sounds behind me, maybe a drawer opening and closing, a closet door.  i listen, but have no idea what she’s doing.  

Til i feel ~ something ~ i don’t know what it is – tapping my ass.  It is ~ i think ~ maybe ~ it’s a riding crop?   She’s barely touching me with it, whatever it is.  Then ~~

“This is a crop,” she says.  “Made to be used on horses.  Human flesh is much more tender.”  i hear a whoosh and feel a sharp, burning sensation across the middle of my ass.  i want to jump up and run, but i don’t.  

She brings it down again, hitting right at the top of my thighs, and i cry out this time.  It hurts, hurts, hurts, and i know i’ll feel it there every time i sit.

i’m braced for the next one, but “Breathe,” she says.  “Relax in between.  It won’t hurt as much, and you’ll be able to take more.”

The tip of the crop strokes between the cheeks of my ass, making me gasp in a whole different way.  She laughs.

i begin to breathe again, and try to relax my muscles, and my mind.  Of course, just as i do ~~ 

WHOOSH 

~ it lands again, right between the first two stripes,

“AHHH!  OHHH!”  The pain soaks into my skin, into my flesh.  i’m panting, trying to absorb it.  Just as i do ~ yes, another stroke ~ a little lower on my thighs, and this time i scream.

Then Her hands are on me, she’s kneeling behind me, stroking gently, tracing the welts she’s raised.  i whimper, with pleasure now, mixed with the burning pain.

“Good girl,” she says.  “You took that pretty well.  Good girl.  He will want you to be able to accept pain.”  Her hands stroke gently,  “We’ll stretch you in many ways.”  

i hear her standing behind me, the click of her heels as she gets up.  “But now,” she says, “Get up.  We have work to do.”

***************************************************

In real life ~ i went out last night, stayed out til 1:00 this morning!  Needless to say, i slept in – which is why i’m so late posting ~ goodness, it’s already 9:00!  Day’s half gone… better get moving.

The Major (Part III)

When He has finished spanking me ~ and He takes a good long time with it ~ He slides His fingers inside me.  i am so wet, and it doesn’t take long for Him to  bring me to that peak, taking me up, up, and over the top~~

and i cum hard ~ sliding down, trembling, shaking, and crying out as the waves of pleasure run through me.  

The contrast to my ass, which is burning hot and sore, only adds to my pleasure.

i slide to the ground, in a heap in front of Him, puddled around His feet.  i am drained of tension, my body feels boneless, and my heart is filled with a longing to please Him.

His hands stroke me til i begin to recover, as if i have truly been fucked senseless.  i rest my head against His thigh.  His hands play with my hair.   

“Sir?” i say.

“Slut?”

“May i – may i suck Your cock, please?”

He seems to consider for a long moment, then says, “Yes, you may.”

He’s wearing jeans, but nothing under them, it’s easy to pull His cock out, already half hard.  It’s  a lovely cock, just the right size and length, shaped exactly the way a cock should be.   It fits in my mouth nicely at first.

i take my time, warming it with my breath, licking it and cooling it with my breath, putting my mouth around it, beginning to suck.  Just the head at first, filling my mouth.  i savor the feeling.

When my mouth is moist enough, i let it slide deeper.   Taking it further into my mouth, swirling my tongue on the bottom of it.

His hand rests on the back of my head, but He lets me work to please Him in my own way.  Occasionally, He pushes my head further down, thrusts Himself deeper into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat.

i am still learning His cock. i think that He may be close to cumming, and i start to move in the rhythm that leads to the end, but He stops me.  

“No,” He says.  “We have other work to do before you are allowed that privilege today.”  i whimper.  That makes me want more than anything to be allowed to finish pleasing Him, but he pulls my head up, “No.  First Position.”

i rock back on my heels, reluctant but obedient.  He directs me to put my arms up, hands behind my head.  In that position, i feel incredibly open and vulnerable.

He pinches and twists my nipples, making me squirm and moan.  

When He has finished, my nipples are hard and red, beginning to feel sore.  

He lets me put my arms down then, rest them on my thighs.  He has my complete attention.

“Let’s talk some  more,” He says, “about what you want.  i need to make sure i understand.”

“Yes, Sir,” i say, not sure what He means.

“When you talk about the shame you feel, your sense of not having completed what you wanted at the end of the day ~” He shakes His head ~ “Some people would say that you do plenty.  That you don’t need to try to do more.  But I don’t think that’s exactly what you mean ~ is it?”

i ponder that a minute.  

“You’re right.  It’s not just about needing to do ‘more.’   i mean, in a way, i have too much to do already.  But i’m not focused, and i’m not accomplishing the things i want to do.  That’s what it is,” gaining confidence as i speak, “i spend a lot of time doing stuff that other people want me to do, and take too much time with it because i’m not focused and it’s not things i want to do.  Then when i could be working on my own stuff, i’m playing on the internet.  

“It’s not just reading blogs and writing my blog, i think that’s important for me right now.  But it’s killing time that could be used to meet some of my own goals.”

“Yes.  You lack discipline,” He says, “You need more structure, to be more disciplined,” and His words send a rush of lust through me; i shiver, my pussy throbs.  “Your days here will have structure.  Do you agree to this?”

“Yes, Sir,” i say, and then, thinking that might not be enough, i add, “i want you to bring structure and ~” i hesitate, but just for a second ~ “and discipline to my life.”

“Good girl,” He says.  

The door opens, Diana and Selena come into the room.  They stand on either side of me.  He says, “You will continue to obey them as if they are me.  Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir,” i say.  i wonder what that will be like, but of course i’ve already been doing it without being told.

He stands then, and since i am kneeling, His hand is about on a level with my face.  He cups my chin, tilts my head back.  “They’ll report your progress to me.  And there will be consequences.  That may be pleasant for you, or not.”  

He thrusts His thumb into my mouth.  i automatically begin to suck on it, but He pulls it back out.  “I want to see your ass before i go,” He says.  “Face down, ass up.”  

It takes me a second, or two, but i obey, leaning forward so my head is touching the ground, my ass raised high.  “This is Second Position,” says Diana, pressing on my back, placing a hand under my stomach, tapping the inside of my thighs to make me spread them wider, until i’m arranged to their liking.

i feel His hands spread my cheeks, and His thumb penetrates me so quickly, i cry out ~ it is not my hot, wet pussy that’s invaded, but the smaller entrance, my tightly puckered asshole.    “Hold still,” He says.

His thumb probes, opening me. i whimper.

He removes it then, and perversely, i feel empty.  i want it back.  

“Stretch her a little there too,” He says.  “Not too much though.”

And He is gone.

i remain on my knees, face pressed to the floor, ass raised.   i want to get up, to cover myself, but ~~

~~ “Stay there,” says Diana.  

The Major (Part II)

i don’t answer immediately; i’m not sure what to say.  “What aspect of your life do you want to examine next,” He asks again.

i want to say,”None, Sir, couldn’t You just play with me again, please?” but i can’t imagine that ending well.  So i look down, look away, “i don’t know…” then quickly add, “Sir.”

He reaches down, grasping my hair at the nape of my neck, tiling my face up to Him so that i can’t avoid His eyes. His hand is firm, and his voice is cool.  “You don’t know?” 

My heart is racing, i’m in near panic mode.  “No, Sir,” i whimper,  “i don’t – i don’t want to talk about any of it.”

He releases my hair then, “I see that.  Why not?”

“i’m ~ i’m ~” i don’t want to answer this either, but His gaze is intent, patient and steady.  i am careful not to look away for long, but it’s hard to think.

His face relaxes ~ just a fraction ~ and He says, “Breathe, slut of mine, breathe.”

i do, i take a real breath, and feel better, and worse, cause then i hear myself say, “i don’t want to talk about it because it makes me think about all the things that are wrong with my life.”

He leans forward. takes my face between both hands. gentle and firm, “you don’t have to do this.  I can give you back your clothes, take you back to your car, anytime you like.”

“No, no Sir, i don’t want to go,” i’m saying it quickly, and i realize that i’ve interrupted Him, and stop in mid-word.  

He almost smiles, rubs his thumbs across my cheekbones before releasing my face.   “Then let’s do this, slut of mine,” He says, and my heart warms ~ i love that, “slut of mine.  Tell me about your life.”

“Well,”  i say, “There’s my family.  They’re good, i think.  Yes, my daughters, and my grandkids, and my sister and her family – they’re all good”

“Yes,” He says.  “And you have a lot to be proud of there.  Nothing to work on in that area.”  He nods.  “Good job.”

i’m thrilled – like i’ve just passed some huge test, i can’t quit grinning.

His hands caress me.  i’m sitting on the floor, so close to Him i can feel the warmth of His body through his clothes.  He reaches out for my breasts, flicking the nipples with His thumb.  

My pussy clenches and throbs.  

i want more.  It’s all i can do to sit still and receive His touch without throwing myself at His legs, rubbing against Him like a dog in heat.  But i restrain myself, not sure that i should move without His direction.

And then He stops.   “Tell me about your friends,” He says.

“O, i have some great friends,” i say.  “i have a few really close friends, and i have some ~ circles of friends, i guess i’d say.  Some of them in real life, some of them on-line, but i have friends i love.”

He asks me more about my friends, and i’m happy to tell Him.  He listens.  Then ~

“Let’s talk about your work,” He says.

“Ok,” i say, a little bit reluctant now.  “My work is ok.  It’s not too bad.  i’m kind of ~ i don’t know.”

“Tell me,” He says, and His voice is so warm, and commanding at the same time, that i do.  i tell Him all the good stuff, and there is plenty of that, and all the difficult parts.

He listens.

He absorbs what i’m saying.  i can tell, because He asks questions.  He questions what i want, and what i’m doing to move toward what i want.

His questions take me deeper into examining what my goals.  We talk about my strengths and where i’m lacking.  He is solid, and kind.  

Gradually i move into the things that shame me.     He peels away the layers that hide me, slowly, with care.  It is still difficult.

When i am finished,  He looks at me.  For a long time.  

i begin to wilt under his gaze, my head drops.  i feel as naked and exposed emotionally as i am physically.  i think this is what He wants, but it’s very hard.

“Look at Me,” He says, and i do, lifting my eyes to meet His.  “So every night you go to bed feeling like you haven’t done enough.  And every morning you start out feeling like you’re already behind, hopeful, but just barely.  Is that right?”

i nod.  “Yes, Sir, that’s about right.”

 “Do you want Me to help you?’

i hesitate, but just for a moment.  “Yes, Sir.” 

“Then ask Me.  Ask Me to help you take control of your life.”

That’s hard to do ~  i really hesitate now.   But i do want Him to help, even though i don’t know how or what He can do.  At last, i push the words out, “Would You help me, please, Sir, to take control of my life?”

He smiles then, that amazing smile that transforms His face.  i have to smile back.

“Give me your life for today,”  He says.  “Give me the control, and we’ll start.”

“Yes, Sir,” i say, and sensing He wants more, i say,”i give you control of my life today.”

“Good girl.”  He reaches toward me, gesturing for me to get up.  “We’ll start with a spanking,” He says.  ” A nice over-the-knee spanking.  Here you go,” and He places me over His lap.

His hand strokes my ass.  “Later,” He says, “There will be consequences, possibly even punishments.  But this is for pleasure, my pleasure, and to release you.”

i feel His hand lift, and it falls, SMACK, on my right cheek, harder than i expected.  i gasp.  Quickly it lands on the other cheek.  

O.

O, my. 

The Major

After they had cleaned me up, letting me pee, removing the traces of lipstick still on my mouth, my nipples, and the lips of my pussy, they put me to bed.  They cuff my wrists together and attach  them to a chain, which is then attached to the ring in the collar around my neck.

The chain reaches about to my waist, giving me some freedom of movement, but not enough to allow me to touch myself between the legs.  Another chain runs from my collar to a ring in the headboard of the bed.  Both chains are locked into place with a tiny padlock.

Selena explains that i’ll be monitored throughout the night, and if i need anything, i can ask for it, and someone will hear the request.  They may or may not respond, but my needs will be met, and i will be kept safe.

They part my legs and examine my lips, checking for any indications of a rash from the lipstick.  Apparently satisfied, they turn out the lights and leave me, alone, in the dark.

i lie on my side and think about O, in Story of O, and how she’d been chained to the bed too.  i have been in a constant state of arousal since i got here, and if my hands were free, i’d be stroking myself for sure.

i wonder how i’m being monitored, and if they would get to me in time in case of fire.

i wonder what tomorrow will bring.

And i fall asleep.

*******************************************************

i wake up some time later, not knowing if it is morning or the middle of the night.   i lie quite still, thinking back on yesterday, trying to remember all the things that happened.

“Good morning, slut.”

It is The Major’s voice, and i don’t know where it’s coming from.  i look around as if i could see Him, but He’s clearly not in the room, and it’s still completely dark, i can barely see anything.  Must be a speaker of some sort, i think, and ~~

“The correct response is, “Good morning, Sir.”  His voice sounds stern; startled, i try to sit up, stammering, “Good morning, Sir,” as i do so.

The door opens and Diana and Selena come in, flipping on the light.  Diana is pushing a cart, i think there is a small pot of coffee and  some fruit on a tray.

But they unchain me and hustle me into the bathroom.  They allow me a few minutes to myself, then, barely taking time to say, “Good morning, slut,” they whisk me under the shower.

i am still not allowed to touch myself, and they make quick work of washing me.  They don’t speak to me, and barely to each other.  They shave me again, making me stretch one leg up on a stool to open myself for them.  They make me bend over and hold my ass cheeks open so they can shave there as well.

When i have been throughly cleaned and dried and lotion rubbed into my skin, my hair dried and braided, they help me make the bed.

Then they make me kneel in front of the mirror. In First Position, my knees slightly parted, back straight, breasts thrust forward, hands resting on my thighs, palms up, which is beginning to feel quite comfortable.

“Wait here,” Diana says, and she and Selena are gone.

  i know the coffee and fruit are still on the cart, on the other side of the room.  i think longingly of them.  They had let me have some water, but i want my morning coffee.

i don’t know how long i kneel there waiting.  Long enough that i begin to wonder how long they will leave me here; wonder how long it would take for me to decide they were never coming back.

i think about getting up and having my coffee.  Surely they wouldn’t mind that?  Ok, surely they would.

i can’t help watching myself in the mirror.  Occasionally, i smile at my own thoughts, and then realize that must look ridiculous.

My nipples and pussy, my  mouth, look pretty boring this morning without the deep red lipstick marking me.

More time passes, and i realize that i actually might wait here forever.   In some odd way, the realization relaxes me.  i don’t have to worry about it.  i’m not going anywhere, and things will happen exactly the way He wants them to.

My spirit opens to the knowledge, and i feel myself move into a more submissive space in my mind.  If He wants me to, i will wait here all day.

But soon, the door opens ~ it is The Major.  i move as if to get up, but He gestures me to stay where i am.

He sits down on the other side of the room, next to the tray, and pours a cup of coffee, sips from it.  My heart sinks, i thought the coffee was for me.

“Would you like some coffee, slut?” He says.

“Yes, Sir,” i respond quickly, “i’d love some coffee.”

“You may crawl over here and have some,” He says.

i pause ~ really?  i have to crawl over there?

But i want coffee pretty badly, so i do.  i crawl on my hands and knees, until i am in front of Him.  Then i raise up, rock back onto my heels, in First Position again.  

He holds the cup for me, and i drink greedily.  The taste of good coffee is almost orgasmic.  

He laughs, removes the cup, and strokes my hair.

“Are your knees doing ok?” He asks.

i consider the question, and nod, “Yes, Sir, i think so.”

“Well, you may sit if you like, while i feed you,” He says.  “You’ll be on your knees plenty.”

So i do, i sit on the floor, which is carpeted and not uncomfortable, while he feeds me strawberries and grapes, some cantaloupe and watermelon too.  

When i have had my fill, He says, “First position slut.”  Quickly, i gather myself back into position, and look to Him hopefully.

“We need to finish doing your life inventory,” He says.  “We’ve discussed your body,” and i blush a little, but He goes on.  “What shall we look at next?”

A Neat Link

Earlier this week, i started talking to someone on CM.   He lives in the same general area i’m in.  Too young for me, i think, but an interesting Dom.  

He has a blog of his own, which is pretty cool.  And he caught my attention right away.

He poked at me a little ~ you know how Doms do ~ about being a therapist and kinky, and we had some conversation about how i’d handle it if someone came in and started trying to Dom me at work. 

Actually, we had two levels of the conversation ~ one professional, where i handle it the way i would in real life , but the other level was pure fantasy, what an insecure, boundry-less, fantasy therapist might do if it happened to her.

And he wrote a paragraph or two that stirred me up.  Ok granted that’s not real hard.  But it was very quick and i was nicely stirred.  

That was pretty cool ~ or hot.  You know.

So he went on to write a whole fantasy about this scenario ~ him going to a therapist.  Even though – CLEARLY ~ i would never, ever under any circumstances act like the therapist in the story.  Nor would any real life therapist in a first session; i think we’d take more seduction than that.   

And i still think it’s hot.

His fantasy  is not just the same stuff he’d used in our conversation.  That paragraph, the one that really got my attention, I’ll  keep for myself…

Anyhow, he has two parts of the fantasy posted, and it starts here:  

http://strictnstern4u.blogspot.com/2011/07/therapist-part-1.html

Drama Triangle

When i talk about the drama triangle, i always have to draw it first:

 

Here’s the triangle…

Now, on the triangle (and i usually put this one on the top) there is always a victim.  And (this one goes on the right angle) there’s always a persecutor.  And (yes, on the left angle) there’s a rescuer.

 So now the triangle looks like this:

Only it’s not in pretty color when I draw it…

Here’s how it words.

Johnny gets a bad grade in school.  He tells his mother “That teacher just hates me, she never calls on me.  She just calls on the girls.  She likes them better.  She never tells us when the test is.  And when I try to ask her a question, she tells me to sit down and be quiet.”

Clearly, he’s the victim, the teacher’s the persecutor, and he’s inviting Mom to jump on the triangle with them.

If Mom says, “That’s awful, she can’t treat my baby like that,” then she’s accepted the invitation to rescue.  And that’s the basic formation.

So Mom storms down to school to question the teacher and tell her how mean and unfair she is.  The teacher is startled – she feels like she’s being attacked.  In fact, she may start to feel like she’s the victim.  And Mom’s the persecutor.  The teacher may start looking for a rescuer.

The teacher could invite the principal in to rescue.  So the principal says, “How dare you come talk to my teacher like that?”  And pretty soon, Mom’s feeling attacked.  Like she’s become the victim.  And now the principal’s the persecutor.

And they can keep on, in countless ways, trading places on the triangle.  Dancing on the triangle, I call it.

The important thing to remember is that as long as you’re on the triangle, nothing changes.  Nothing.  Johnny still has a bad grade.  His relationship with the teacher is worse, and they’re not even talking about his grades, much less whether or not he’s learning anything.  Little Johnny is off the hook.

i need to be really clear now – the drama triangle is NOT when people are actually being victimized.  If you get mugged on the street, you are a victim.  You need the police, you could need an ambulance, you may need help getting somewhere, getting your money back, calling in credit cards.   You have been victimized.

But if the person who mugged you was your son and you won’t call the police because it’s not his fault because he’s on drugs and you weren’t there for him when he was little, and so on – you have still been victimized, but now you’re on the drama triangle too.  It’s still not “your fault” it happened ~ that’s more drama triangle stuff ~ but now there’s drama on top of having been victimized.

So – the other night, when my feelings were hurt because the young woman was saving the seat i thought was going to be mine ~~ we could have created some drama triangle.  Imagine if Ms. Constance ~ or anyone ~ had said felt the need to “rescue” me.  She could have said,

“Excuse me, what do you mean that seat’s saved?  That’s ridiculous.  You should let aisha sit there.”

And Seat Saving Woman could have said,” No way!  I’m saving that seat for my best friend in the world, I haven’t seen her in two years, she’s been away in the military and I promised her I’d save her that seat!  You’re being childish!  My friend’s been serving in Afghanistan, I don’t care what you say, I’m not giving up her chair.”  {Or some such thing.}

Which puts her friend in the victim spot, Ms. Constance (and me) as the evil persecutors, trying to take the war hero’s chair, and SSG gets to be rescuer.

So I can jump in and say, “Hey, don’t you talk to Ms. Constance like that!  She was just trying to help! ” trying to move myself to rescuer position.

And Ms. Constance can (theoretically – i’m sure she wouldn’t do this) but she could  turn on me and say, “Don’t talk to her like that –  you started this!  Her friend’s been sacrificing for us, the least we can do is give them the chair,” moving herself away from persecutor role, but keeping me firmly there.

Do you see what i’m saying?   We could dance on the triangle all day.  And with all the drama ~ i still don’t have anywhere to sit.

Instead, Ms. Constance and Drew helped me out for real, without any drama, which, of course, is the best way.

i’ve never tried to describe the drama triangle in writing, so i hope it’s clear.  Usually, by this point people are saying, “O, yeah, i get it!” and thinking of their own examples.  Then they want to know:

“Ok, but how do I get OFF the drama triangle?” which is the million dollar question.

The answer is, “You take a step back, decide where you stand, and then you stand there.”  Drama triangle is all emotional mind.  So you have to think first.

The Mom needs to recognize she’s only hearing one side of the story, and try to gather some facts.  She needs to decide what her goal is, and how she’s going to move towards it.  Maybe she’ll need to come observe the class.  Maybe she needs to monitor Johnny’s homework.  Maybe a million things… but

If defending Johnny’s her main goal, well, the drama triangle works for that, i guess.  But if Johnny doing well in school is the goal, she needs a different approach.

The “me and the seat” story {which i’m never mentioning again after this} ~ the key is that i’m not really a victim.  My feelings were hurt, but that happens.  If i step back from the triangle ~ from the feelings ~ it’s clear that i don’t need to be “rescued” in that sense.  

What happened, of course, was perfect and a kind of rescue, but without the drama.

Make sense?

We can talk about it more, or i can stop here, yourall’s choice.  i think theBDSM lifestyle factor might give it some different twists, and i might have to write about that tomorrow, or sometime.  

But watch for it today – all the “drama triangles” unfolding out there.  Notice where you are on the triangle, what pulls you on to it.  Once you’re aware of it, it’s fun to watch.  Well, maybe not fun exactly.  Interesting though. 

So Much to Say…

Some of the comments on yesterday’s post made me think about the drama triangle.  Are you all familiar with the drama triangle?  It may be the most powerful therapy tool i have, and someday, i’m going to write about it on here.  

But first I want to “play catch up” on the situation with Bob.  i’m delighted to say that we’re in complete agreement – we’re friends, and will continue to be friends, with the occasional play date to add a little spice to life.   Neither one of us wants to have an intense relationship with the other – in fact ~~

~~you may not believe this ~~

but he thinks i might be too high-maintenance a sub for his taste.   

i know ~ laughing ~ i thought, “Me????   High maintenance???”  

And then i had to laugh, cause you know, i might be.  

Although, i don’t really want to be kidnapped and controlled, well, i don’t think i do…  But i am an attention slut, this is not news.

Well, plus, as a bonus, he’s going to continue “harassing” me via text message from time to time when i’m at work.  Sheesh….  i was in a meeting with 15 people the other day when i get a text message that says, “Panties off please.”  

It cracks me up now, but at the time, i’m thinking, “WTF?  Really?  Does he really think he can just text me at random times and tell me to take my panties off?”  But obviously he can, and {laughing} i would probably miss it now if he didn’t.

{No, i didn’t go take them off during the meeting, just for the record.  And i was wearing pants anyhow.}

In any case, please be kind to Bob in the comments, because he’s a really good guy.  Not that i’m trying to tell you what to put in your comments, because that would be out of line, right?   But i’m really ok with this casual, light relationship with him.

Which takes me back to Ms. Constance’s class on play.  i think people who play publicly have an exhibitionist streak {and clearly, i have to include myself in that category.}   For the Tops there is some degree of showing their skills in what they’re doing.  

Back when i was involved with Sir D, i was just beginning to learn to be ok with him playing publicly with other people when we quit seeing each other.  It was a stretch for me to recognize that he could play with other people and it wasn’t a rejection of me.  

It became more clear Saturday, listening to Ms. Constance  talk about the value of being able to negotiate for play with a Top.  Figuring out what kind of play you want and with whom, and what you want to happen after the scene is over.  

So theoretically ~ and this used to happen to Sir D all the time ~ someone could see him playing at a party and ask him to play wth her.  She wouldn’t want or expect a relationship with him, she’d just want to  be tied up or have him set fires on her body.  If she had a Dom, Sir D could involve him in the scene too.

i didn’t get that back then.  It’s more clear to me now.  In fact, if i saw someone at a party doing shibari the way Sir D did, i might line up to ask him to play with me too.  

Ms. Constance has that happen too, of course.  People approach her and ask her to play with them – from a birthday spanking to more formal kinds of play.

That’s separate  ~ it can be separate ~ from an ongoing relationship.

Maybe youall already realized all this.   But i’m still learning.  i hope that by the time i go to COPE, i’ll be comfortable with the idea of it.  They do armbands there – so i can wear an armband that lets people know that i’d like to bottom in a scene.

But the point of  this kind of play is not sex.   When i try to describe in my head what it is for me, i get lost.  i’ll have to come back to it.

i started writing about the drama triangle earlier this morning, and was going to include that in this post, but ended up losing the draft that contained it.  Don’t really have the time ~ or the heart ~ to redo it this morning, so it will have to wait for another day.

i haven’t forgotten The Major either.  He’s still lurking in my brain, so expect Him to be back sometime soon too… 

 

 

Sitting with the Cool Kids

i’ll tell this story because i think i need to say it, but i’m not proud of it.  i went to the munch last night – it’s a small munch usually, but there were maybe 25 people there last night.  

When i got there, Mr. Michael greeted me, as He always does.  He pulled a chair up to the table, and was actually going to seat me with a flourish when ~~

the woman on the other side of the table gasps and says, “Oh!  No, I’m actually saving that seat for…” and i don’t catch who she’s saving it for because the world tilts, all the blood drains out of my face, the bottom drops out of my stomach and  i want to sink through the floor.

Conversation stops, it seems like everyone is focused on me and the seat i can’t have.  i want to disappear.

Yes, that’s an overreaction.   Good heavens, of course it is.  It’s pure grade school, middle school stuff.  

i’m 55 years old.  

i don’t think she’s really rejecting me, she’s just wanting to include someone else.  Even at that moment i know it.

And i still feel this rush of ~ humiliation?  shame?  

i think they pull up another table at that end of the seating arrangement, but when someone at the far other end of the table says, “There’s a seat up here,”  i quickly and gratefully move up there, and sit down.  

It’s a U-shaped table arrangement, so i’m sitting at the short piece, on the corner, the three seats on my left are empty.  Two women and a man are to my right, one of whom had pointed out the empty seat.  They introduce themselves, which i appreciate, and start some conversation.

Unfortunately, i can barely talk because i’m trying not to cry.  i know ~ even in that moment, i know that this reaction is extreme and unnecessary.  

At the same time, i’m wondering if i should just go ahead to the bathroom and cry.  Or, i could pretend there’s an emergency and just frigging go home.  i’m five minutes away.   Just as i’m thinking that really, i don’t even have to pretend anything, i could just leave and no one would notice ~~

just then, Drew is beside me.  Drew is Ms. Constance’s slave, and a gentle soul.  He says, “Come sit with us,” ~ magic words.

So i do, of course, and he is so sweet, he moves down a seat and puts me between him and Ms. Constance.  i feel safely tucked in, and the rest of the evening is a blast.  

Ms. Constance is funny and interesting and just dramatic enough to be entertaining.   i even have some conversation with Drew, who is quiet and intense and interesting.

But, o, goodness, those first few minutes were painful.   It’s amazing how near to the surface the child is in me sometimes.  Such an emotional flashback, really to grade school and middle school for me, and not one i want to experience often.

i was telling Sfp when she was here, it’s an interesting experience for me ~ it has been ~ going to munches because it’s the only place i go where i don’t feel like people {in general} are just glad to see me.

It’s an odd feeling, but probably good for me.  i think i’m spoiled, probably,  i think that it’s a form of privilege, really, my expectation that people will immediately make an effort to welcome me.

So it’s good for me to recognize that’s not an entitlement ~ or if it is, if being warmly welcomed is an entitlement for me, then it is for everyone else too.

Sitting with Ms. Constance and Drew, with Tammy and John, is definitely sitting with the cool kids.  And i’m used to being one of the cool kids, in my own right.

Spoiled. Definitely spoiled.

So i need to remember, it’s not so much about me as i think it is.  Maybe i need to project more welcome myself, maybe i’m not putting out energy that says i’m glad to be there.  Probably i’m not.

And i need to remember, in the places where i am a cool kid, i need to remember to welcome others.

“ There can be no vulnerability without risk; there can be no community without vulnerability; there can be no peace, and ultimately no life, without community.”
~~ M. Scott Peck 

 

Here She Is (Part XVIX) and Some Real Life Too

Just as He begins to get heavy, He rolls off me, His cock slips out of my pussy, leaving me empty and bereft.  i sigh, expecting Him to get up.  Instead He curls against me, pulls me to Him so we lie spooned together.

My back is securely pressed to His chest, my butt snuggled into His groin.  The floor is a little hard, but the carpet is soft.  i can feel His cock, half hard, pressing against me, and i wiggle a little, but just for a second.  His arm lying over me, the heat from His body, keeps me warm.

i listen to His breathing, smiling to myself as the breaths gets slower and slower… feeling myself breathing in rhythm with Him…

…i wonder if we’re going to fall asleep…  if He’ll stay here with me on the floor all night…

**************************************************************

 i hear a woman’s voice.  i’m not sure where i am, and i don’t open my eyes, not wanting whoever it is to know that i’m awake.

“Jeezuz, she could apparently sleep through anything,” the voice says. It sounds like ~ like someone i know ~ who ~

“Well, just spread her legs and let’s get the lipstick off her.” this voice is female too, and i know that voice ~ O!

Of course.

Memory comes flooding back, the night before, My Major, My Master of Darkness…  falling asleep on the floor and~

O, my.  What are they do ~~ O, the lipstick.  Between my legs.  That’s what ~

“I know you’re awake.”  i don’t know, i’m not sure if that’s Diana or Selena, but it’s one of the two.  “I can tell.”

i open my eyes a slit, trying to see without opening them all the way.  i’m on my back, my legs spread wide, and i try to pull them together, but her body – someone’s body – is between my legs, kneeling between my legs, i see then, rocked back on her heels, there is a sheet beneath us and she’s smearing something cold on my pussy.  It’s Diana, i see.  Diana of the brown hair.

“Ahhh.”  i want her to stop, but i’m so groggy, and with her between my legs, i can’t exactly move easily.

“i know you’re awake,” she says again,.  “And that’s fine.  We’re just gonna get this lipstick off your pussy, let you pee and brush your teeth, and put you to bed.”  She’s rubbing me like i’m a floor she’s cleaning, and the cool feeling lotion she’s put on me is warming up under her touch.  i sigh and relax, the rhythm of her touch is more soothing now.

i could go back to sleep.

“Come on,” she says, before i can get too relaxed, “Up.  We’ll get the rest of this off in the bidet.  Careful now.”  She stands easily and she and Selena help me to my feet, make sure i’m steady on them.

“Come on,” she says again, “Let’s get you cleaned up and to bed.  You didn’t finish your inventory with Him yet, did you?’

i shake my head, no, wondering what she and Selena know about that.

“Well, we won’t start your instruction in the morning then, but He’ll be back early to continue, i can promise you that.”

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

In real life, i went to one of Ms. Constance’s classes yesterday afternoon, which was lots of fun.  The topic was “play.”  There were just a few people there, me and several couples, which made it nice, since it was part lecture, part discussion.  Lots of laughter.

It helped me tease out some of the things i’ve been thinking about, about casual play as opposed to a “submit to you all the time, and we’ll play sometimes” kind of relationship.  i’m just working on being comfortable with more casual play, and i think Bob and i are working on figuring out how it works.  If that makes any sense.

And public play is different from private play, although since we’re not having play parties after the munches at this point, i suppose the next time i’ll get a chance at public play will be at COPE.  

i think i came to this backwards, experiencing public play with Sir D first, i think i’m half-spoiled for anything else.

i think i have so many random thoughts floating around my head when i think about “play” that i can’t write a decent post about it yet.  i need to let it settle a bit and sort it out.  Maybe i’ll write about that tomorrow and wait to start ” The Major’s Discipline,” til Tuesday or Wednesday. 

And i’m going to the Fourth Sunday munch tonight, maybe i’ll have things to say about that too.  

Here She Is (Part XIII)

He leads me out of that room and down a hallway, down some stairs and back through another hallway.  Opens a door, and we go into a large room.  At one end is a bed.  

At that end of the room there is a mirrored wall; he leads me by it and i am startled by the image of myself, naked, on a leash, with traces of smeared lipstick on my nipples, mouth and the lips of my pussy. i have time to examine the effect, because He stops in front of it. 

“Look at yourself,” He says.  He stands behind me, wraps His arms around me, and takes my breasts in His hands.  He lifts them, lets them go, pinches my nipples til they are hard.  i watch myself.  

i watch my nipples change under His caress.  i watch my face, the expressions playing over it as He caresses and pinches.  

His hands between my legs, and i see myself responding, watch my chest move with my breath, watch my hips thrusting forward.  It is still a shock to see my hairless pussy, and i want to cover it with my hand.  He laughs as He bats my hand away, makes me spread my legs further.

i moan.

i want to turn and wrap my arms around Him, i almost do it, but He holds me firmly.  “No.  Not now.”

With my legs open, He can cover my pussy with His hand, and He does, gently at first, sliding fingers inside me while i moan.  Then He smacks it sharply, not so hard maybe, but a stinging slap that makes me cry out.

“Watch your face,” He says.  “Watch yourself respond.”

He is behind me so i have an unobstructed view of myself.   He has one arm around my torso, is holding a nipple between thumb and forefinger.  His other hand is between my legs.  As i watch, He penetrates me with His fingers and i gasp, pressing myself into His hand.

Watching my face as He finger fucks me is distracting at first, and then i am fascinated, and then i forget it as i get lost in the sensations of His hand.  Feeling myself going up, His fingers hitting places that i had not known existed til now.  His palm rubbing my clit, rubbing myself against Him, no longer caring how wanton i might look…

… my body the last thing on my mind, moaning, thrusting against Him ~~

~~~ going higher, higher, higher ~~

                 ~~~ til at last i am over the top ~ clinging to that pinnacle for a moment ~ O ~ O ~ O~

and then tumbling down, shaking, trembling, i cry out, and feel all the tensions, every single bit of tension that i ever had drains out of my body, so relaxed that He lowers me to the floor, gently, it is carpeted and soft here, and i’m grateful for that as He lays me down on my back…

and enters me, His hard cock filling me, stretching me, opening me, Omigod, and i cum again as His cock pounds into me.  i cannot get enough of Him, raising my hips, raising my legs so His arms are holding them up,

He is braced on His arms, tilting my body back for deeper penetration, and i am moaning because

i can not get enough of Him

and He is pumping, thrusting, i think i can feel His cock all the way through me, so deep inside me i can practically taste Him, He pounds into me, raising me again, over the top one more time~~~

and then He is cumming, He cries out, and i can only smile, watching His face, watching His face as He peaks and takes that shuddering slide down into relaxed Himself. 

He collapses on me, lowers my legs, i am stroking His back and His ass, and neither one of us can move.  His body covering me, chest pressed against me, His cock still inside me, i am content.  

i think i could stay right here forever.