Love Me Tender…(Bond part 3)

Monday’s here.  It was an amazing weekend.

Friday was a journey that began with sticking my toe in the pool and ended with cliff-diving into the unknown waters of submission.

Saturday was about ritual.  It was preparing an altar, myself as the offering.  Giving all.  Pure submission.

Sunday was a reflection of freedom and acceptance.  My own acceptance of the person I am.  The freedom of knowing who I am.

Let’s connect the dots on a bigger scale…

As I take this journey into submission and enlightenment, I find a recurring theme.

We all want to connect.

We all want to trust.

It is fundamental in the lifestyle.  We connect with those who are likeminded.  We seek those who share or complement our interests, our “kinks”.  We want to share with others like ourselves.

And each aspect of the lifestyle revolves around trust.  Ironically similar in the vanilla world.  The difference is we take a much more literal approach in the BDSM existence.  We literally demonstrate trust in the roles we play.

Safe.  Sane. Consensual.

I learned so much in the 6 hours I spent with Mr. Bond.  He is patient and understanding.  He understands how to get his sub to freely submit without intimidation.  He gets the vulnerability.

I found a smidge of vulnerability in him.  During one of our breaks he reflected on the name I chose for him.

“Why do you call me James Bond?”

“Because you are so dashing, Sir.  So in control.  You have the persona”

“Have you read the books, or just watched the movies?”

I had to think about this one.  I recalled reading an early book.

“So you think of me in that way?”

That way?  “What do you mean?”

Sir went on to explain that James Bond’s character was based on a real person who was ruthless in his quest to complete his mission, often killing those who stood in his way.  Far more intense than the character in the movies (especially during the Roger Moore years, I might add).

“He was a ruthless killer.  Is that how you perceive me?”

Interesting.  He wonders how I see him.  Me, the submissive, how I view him….as the consummate Dominant.

“No, Sir.  I see you as the one who truly has it together, is self-assured, self-sufficient and not afraid to push limits.”

There is so much to the D/s dynamic.  So much more than the “rules” of play, or the roles themselves, I am finding that it is also about mutual respect.  It’s about mutual trust.

When our session became acutely intense and I begged Mr. Bond to stop (intentionally not using my safe word) he would say, “Take it for me, little girl.  Say it.  Say, ‘I take it for you, Sir.'”

Sometimes I couldn’t even verbalize the words.  I didn’t feel that I had enough breath in my body left to say anything.

But I would pull myself together and do it.  I would look him in the eye and say, “I take it for you, Sir.”

And after that exchange, I always felt empowered, knowing that Bond had helped me through a limit.  And that I was okay.  I was better because of it.

Applying that to the vanilla world, wouldn’t it be nice to have someone there to help you overcome your fears?  Help you venture out of your comfort zone?

I think those of us in the lifestyle are on to something.

Unfortunately those not in the lifestyle will never understand it.

I must admit…I am a “hot mess” today.  Recovering both physically and mentally from the pure intensity of the weekend.

I am bruised on my arms, neck and chest.  I have actual bite marks all over the back of my neck, my shoulders, my feet and toes.  And I am not sure, but I think Bond may have left his initial on my backside…ever so slightly with his knife.  So hot…

But I do love the reminders.  They represent the limits we surpassed.  Maybe next time Bond will see fit to find some more discreet places to brand me :).  (It is summer.  We live in the South.  No sleeveless or ponytails for me for at least a week)

So Bond, I leave you with this…

If we play together again (and I sincerely hope we do)

Love me Tender, Sir.

I know you already know the words.

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Getting to the Point (Bond-part 2)

 

Disclaimer: Like the one before, this post may be too intense for some readers, especially those who do not subscribe to the lifestyle. Use caution before reading.

Now on with it….

Bond and I were about to explore limits with knife play. Here’s where we left off:

“Are you ready to test your limits, little girl?”

Am I ready?  Really ready?

Please note, readers:  Rational thinking should really kick-in at this point. The sound of the little voice that says, “this is crazy…get out before it’s too late” should be deafening.

Instead in my own voice, I confidently said, “Yes, Sir”

I had my back turned towards Bond.  He wrapped his arms around me from behind in a very affectionate embrace.  He slowly ran the point of the knife up my left thigh, applying some pressure, but not breaking the skin.  He traced a line on both of my legs and up stomach, up further and further.  He circled my breasts and traced my spine.  It was not painful, but I could feel the point of the imposing knife.

Which brings me to my point.

In this session of play, it was not about pain, but rather the intensity.  It was the taboo of playing with sharp and dangerous objects.  The fear of being cut.  And most of all, it was about trusting Bond.  I realized at this “point” that what I crave along with fear is the ability to trust.

Enlightenment.  (I should really be able to get this type of thing (fear/trust) from a company-paid ropes course, but this is far more fun)

We carried on with our evening.  Bond was a very experienced Dom.  I initially thought of him as a pain Dom, a sadist, a cruel bastard.  I realized as we went further, that he was more of a blend.  He craved my response.  That was his drug.  He was part sensual Dom.

Once again, Enlightenment.

Mr. Bond continued to test my limits and delivered pleasure beyond anything I’d ever experienced before.  And although I ventured into the session with a distaste for bondage, Bond helped me understand it’s purpose.  Sometimes the intensity and release would become too much.  It was too good to experience.  It was beyond my threshold.  Had I not been restrained, I would have tried to escape.  I would not have allowed myself to go that far.  To be that consumed with pleasure.

Bond took me there.  Somewhere….where no one has gone before.

There’s really not much you can do to resist, when your legs are tied.  Your wrists are cuffed and tied behind your back.  It is a feeling of helplessness.  You must be able to fully and completely trust your Dom.  That’s the mental part of submission.  It is born out of the restraint.

In between play time, we talked at length about different things.  Our vanilla lives.  Our dark desires.  Our struggles to blend the two worlds.  (He was adept at the blend, it’s me who struggles)

Mr. Bond explained to me that I had a strong personality. Trust me, I’ve heard this before.  He went on to say that because of my dominance in my vanilla life that I try “topping from the bottom”.  This means I try to “control” the situation from my submissive role.  And if I truly wanted to submit, I had to let go of all control.

Which is precisely what I did.  We carried on for hours.  Testing limits.  Giving and receiving pleasure.  Talking.  Playing.  And being intimate and close, the scariest part for me.  But I took Bond’s instruction and let go.  I deliberately gave away control.

I gave it all to him.  As an offering.

To be continued….sog - Copy

 

Feeling Good…(Bond part 1)

Oh freedom is mine
And I know how I feel

It’s a new dawn
It’s a new day
It’s a new life
For me

(Cliché alert)

“What a difference a day makes”

I am struggling to write this post.  There is so much I want to share about my experience with Mr. Bond.  I am different person today than I was yesterday.  I am changed.  Changed by this encounter.

In many ways, I am free.

Warning:  This post is long and in no way will do the evening the justice it deserves.

Disclaimer: This post may be too intense for some readers, especially those who do not subscribe to the lifestyle. Use caution before reading further.  You have been warned….

Here goes:

Waking up yesterday morning I was already high on adrenaline.  Almost drunk, but focused on preparing for the evening.  So anxious.  So excited.  So nervous.

So READY for Bond.

I arrived at the hotel just in time to get ready.  I meticulously unpacked my suitcase, hanging the dresses I brought in the closet.  I placed my toiletries on the bathroom counter.  I stocked the refrigerator with bottles of water.  I became familiar with my surroundings.

I texted Mr. Bond to let him know I had arrived and began to prepare myself for the evening.

It was nice to take a long shower, a rare treat for me with work and kids.

I readied myself.  Remember, he requested that I wear a dress, heels, red lips and toes.  No underwear.

I decided to break the rules right out of the gate, and I put on my favorite pair of lacy panties.

Nothing like a disobedient sub.

He instructed me to go to the bar and have a couple of drinks.  I complied.  The bar was almost empty.  I was really overdressed for such a place.  Nervous about what would happen next, I quickly drank the 3 Ketel One Cape Cods I ordered.

I received a text: “I am at the room”

He’s here….OMG

Me:  “Cashing out.  Be there in just a minute”

Bond: “Bring your drink with you.  Come now”

Of course the bartender was beyond slow, delaying me further.  Doesn’t she know I will get in trouble if I’m late???

I stepped off of the elevator and began walking towards the room.  It was a suite at the very end of a long hallway.  In front of the door stood Bond, watching me walk towards him.

Keep in mind, I had just consumed 3 (that is three, Roman numerals III) very strong drinks moments before.  Walking with purpose was a bit of a challenge.  But once I saw him, I was in the zone.

(And note, beside him was a large imposing, square black duffel bag….Pandora’s Box)

Here I come, Bond.  I am coming for you.

We exchanged friendly banter as I descended down the corridor.  I felt an instant connection.  He was as handsome as his photo and very friendly.  I immediately felt at ease.

I put the card in the door and as I opened it, Bond gave me a grin.

A sadistic grin.

He wrapped his arm around my throat and forced me into the room, careful not to allow my face to hit the wall.  He was behind me, pinning me to the wall.

His breath was warm in my ear.  His voice was direct as he whispered, “Don’t you ever fucking make me wait for you, little girl.  Do you understand me?”

I managed to muster an answer, “Yes.”

He pinned me harder to the wall, “Yes, what?”

I know better.  I was so shocked by the pinning, that I forgot my manners.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl”

We kissed.  He was an excellent kisser and I became comfortable again.  He surveyed my outfit to ensure I had followed instructions.

Oh crap…I had willfully disobeyed him.  It’s on.  I am in trouble.

“You look very nice tonight.  You are really a beautiful woman.”

“Thanks, Sir”

He kissed me again and reached up my dress.

I’m in for it now….

He discovered the panties.

“Why are you wearing panties?”

I decided in a flash not to tell him I’d intentionally worn them, fearing my punishment.

“I thought you wanted me to wear panties”

His voice was stern, “There is no, ‘I thought’ little girl.  You either understand your instructions or not.  You told me you understood them, did you not?”

“Yes, Sir.  I am sorry, Sir.”

He then bent me over the table and ripped them off, exposing my backside to him.  I knew what was coming next.

“You did something you weren’t supposed to do, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

His hand was swift and precise across my backside.  Followed by another and another.  All in the same place.

I cried out.  The sting was intense.

“You’ve taken your punishment like a good girl.  Remember, you must obey me.”  He turned me to face him.  My eyes were slightly welled-up from the sting of his hand.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you will obey me.”

“Sir, I will obey you.”  I peered into his kind eyes, trying to see if I could predict what was coming next.

“Good girl, now take off your dress.  Leave your heels on.”

I quickly complied.  As I was following orders, I caught a glimpse of the bag.  Pandora’s Box.  He saw me look at it and he walked over and unzipped it slowly before flinging it open.

“I’ve got lots of things in here for you.”

Oh shit.  Now I am nervous.

I stood in front of him.  Naked.  Vulnerable.  He could sense that I was uneasy.

He took my face in his hands and kissed me.  He then turned me around and guided my hands down on the coffee table.

Now I was really vulnerable.  Exposed to him.

He began rummaging through his box of tricks.  He clearly had an object in mind.

I tried to look back to see what he was doing.

“Turn around.  Keep your hands on the table.”

He’s on to me.  I better obey.

“How does if feel to be exposed to me like this?”  he asked.  I pondered my response.

“I feel vulnerable, Sir.”

“Good girl.  You have to be honest with me for me to push your limits.”

Limits?  What is coming next?

He rummaged some more.  I then heard him plug something in.  I heard the humming sound of a motor.

He rummaged again.  The suspense was exciting.

I heard something metal…but it didn’t sound like a knife, it sounded like keys.

Keys?  What would he do with keys?

Then I heard it…I couldn’t mistake for anything else.

It was the sound of a blade being opened.  He opened it and closed it.

Then he did it again.

Bond had a knife.  And he wasn’t afraid to use it.

He placed it on the coffee table in front of me.

Before I could even react to the knife, I felt his hand over mine.  He told me to get on my knees and face him.

He was sitting on the couch behind me and on my knees I turned to face him.

He took my hand and placed a leather cuff on it, fitting it snugly, but not too tight.  He then pulled out a small lock and secured the cuff to my wrist.

A lock?  Are you kidding me?

With careful detail, he repeated the ritual with my other wrist.  All the while making eye contact with me.

Facing him he explained the rules to me.

“I own you right now.  Do you understand that?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You are not allowed to cum unless I say you can.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.  That may be hard for me at first, but I will do my best.”

“Good girl you will obey”

He was swift in his work.  He quickly brought me to the edge over and over again.  Finally I begged for release.

“Sir, can I please?  Please, Sir.  Let me…”

“Hold it for me, not yet.” His voice was direct.

It was agony and he knew it.  It was his way of conditioning me to do his will.  I was high on the experience.  It was unlike anything I’d experienced before.

Finally I was allowed to let go.  It was intense and euphoric.  I almost forgot about the leather cuffs on my wrists and the knife on the table.

Bond had not forgotten.

He told me to retrieve a towel from the bathroom.  When I got up to walk to the bathroom, he quipped, “No.  I want you to crawl to the bathroom.  I want to watch you.”

How sexy.  I still had my heels on.

I crawled slowly to the bathroom and picked up a towel.  To add to the atmosphere, I decided to bring it back in my mouth.

Mr. Bond liked this.  So submissive.

Upon returning to the table (let’s call it an altar) I noticed that the knife was missing.

Is the towel in case I bleed?

And then I heard it…the undeniable sound of him switching the knife open.

Mr. Bond was about the cut the ties that held me back all these years.

To be continued…

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Offering

blindfolded

So much to do.  I have waited for this day.

I’ve waited so much longer than a week.  So much longer than I’ve even known this man I call, Mr. Bond.

Today I prepare myself for something life-changing.

Today, I cross the threshold.

A locked door will finally be opened.

There is no going back.

The anticipation is thick and dense.

Its sweet aroma is intoxicating.

I drape myself on this altar of longing,

As it is me….

I am the offering.

I offer myself to Him, to consume me.

Submitting freely to the experience.

Mr. Bond, Sir, I am quite ready for you…

I willingly sacrifice myself

Because Bond, You Only Live Twice

The Deep End

Today is Friday.  Finally an end to a painfully  long week.

Tomorrow is Saturday.

My journey continues. 

As I prepare for my encounter with James Bond (aka the sadistic grinner) I see a vivid mental image of what I am about to experience.

Up to this point, here’s my journey so far.

I am sticking my toe in the pool.  Feeling the initial shock from the cool water.

Then dangling my legs in the pool.  Only exposing part of me to the water.

Halfway in, but halfway out.  Gradually easing into the pool.

Allowing myself the time to adjust to the harsh change in temperature.

As I become comfortable…plunging under the water, completing submerged.

Emerging refreshed and aware.  Confident.

Tomorrow’s image is a bit different.

I picture myself climbing a hill. It’s a long trek.

Winding.  Rocky.  Steep in places.

I continue to climb.  Heading towards my destination.  Determined.

Reaching the pinnacle, I survey my progress.

Looking down at the lake, I see the crystal blue water.

Without hesitation, I walk to the edge of this cliff I’ve conquered.

With arms outstretched, I let go.

I let go and dive into the uncertain waters below….

Plunging into the depths of my desires and fears.  Slowly taking it all in.

Finally…coming to the surface to breathe.

Feeling alive.

Baptized.

let go

GPS

Have you ever lost your way?

I mean, you know the right way to go, but you chose to go a different direction? Having enough adult ADD to be dangerous, I do this all the time. I travel all over the state, and I have found alternate routes to most of my destinations.
Sometimes, I need the interstate. I need the mindlessness of the highway. The speed and ease of “getting there”.
Other times I choose an alternate route. It may take me through areas with idyllic scenery. I don’t get there as quickly, but I savor the trip. I often find myself reflecting on living away from it all. Slowing down the pace. Enjoying nature. Nurturing my brood in a simpler place.

And then I realize how far away I would be from Target, and that thought-process comes to a screeching halt.

In all of this madness…that is my life, I sometimes forget that this is a journey. And I have made a commitment to the destination, but the course in which I get there is subject to change. It changes day-to-day, sometimes minute-by-minute. It’s about the choices I make.

I know where I want to go. I know where I want to be. How do I get there?

If my ultimate destination is to be closer to God, then I need to evaluate my course.

As I have said before, I am an addict.
I am a sinner.
I am not seeking perfection, I realize that’s not possible.

I seek enlightenment.

And each and every day, without fail, I receive a message from someone who acts as my GPS.

He gives unselfishly of himself, with no ulterior motive. And I have no idea why he does this for me. I am a broken, damaged person that seeks the company of father figures and agents of British intelligence…of boy scouts and cowboys.  He could never have any real interest in me.

But without wavering, this person accepts and supports me. Even in my craziness, as I plan outings with sadists, he is there.

And just when I am about to take a wrong turn to explore the scenery, Sir reminds me of my destination. I know he’s right. I find it easiest to submit to this enigma who scares me more than any of them.

He takes me to the scariest place of all, my heart.

wait

Stirred…But Not Shaken, Mr. Bond

I am an addict.

Yes, an addict.

My drug is not tangible. It’s not the obvious.

It is NOT what you’re assuming….

It is not sex. That just happens to be a by-product of the rush.

Fear is my drug.

Fear of the unknown. The sheer anticipation of what’s to come.

It’s an adrenaline high that rivals no other.

The other thrill-seekers out there are thinking, you could get the same rush from doing so many other things.

I can’t say that I would get the same rush from bungee jumping, or sky diving. By comparison, those are tame…there are many controlled factors: a parachute, bungee cord, professionals to guide you through, etc. The variables are the “what-if’s” that exist to thrill.

What if the parachute doesn’t open? What if the cord breaks?  The outcome will likely be the same.

When it comes to my search for a Dominant, everything is a variable. There are no controlled factors.

You cannot control a man’s intent.

You cannot control the depths of a man’s dark desire.

And you cannot control a man’s actions, especially a Dominant man. Particularly a sadist (we’ll come back to this)

You can only adapt and control your response.

That’s the thrill for me, in this journey as the perfect submissive.

Being face-to-face with the unknown.

The penetrating eye contact.

Only being to anticipate next steps from their cues/directives.

And knowing that I have willingly put myself in the situation to submit to them.

I had resolved in my head, to back away from Mr. Bond. He was so experienced in the lifestyle. So aware of his own desires and how I could fulfill them, that I found myself fearful. It was scary on a level that shook this fear-addict.

But then curiosity got the best of me. He is so fascinating. So real. So confident.

I decided I should at least meet him once to assess how I felt in his presence.

But I already know how I feel in his presence…vulnerable.

I needed to test my limits.

We agreed to meet next Saturday evening.  He selected a hotel.

I was given specific instructions of how to prepare and what to wear.

At the specified time, I am to be waiting for him at the bar.

I am to wear a dress.

With black heels.

My hair is to be down and wild (not hard here in the South…humidity dictates wild)

My lips and toes will be red.

I am not allowed to wear underwear.

He will approach me at the bar. I am to wait for his signal.

I’ve already played the entire scene out in my head. He will walk in, such the handsome devil and observe me from afar, carefully assessing whether or not I followed his instructions.

He will then approach me from behind. Whispering something in my ear that only an experienced Dom would say, while grinning, sadistically.

From there, he will taunt me with innuendo and possibly coerce me into doing risqué things in public. After all, there is a reason we are meeting in a bar. In a public place. He has a plan.

There is always a method to this sadist’s madness.

I am giddy with excitement. I know that I will experience things I’ve never tried before.

I know that he will test my limits.

He will help me push my limits.  I have given him permission.

He’s in my head.

And as scary as all of this is, I know that he will keep me safe. That is the number one role of any Dom, to keep their submissive safe.

My soul is stirred….but my core is not shaken, Mr. Bond.

Next weekend cannot get here fast enough for this eager Bond girl.