The Four-Letter Word

And as our weekend came to a close, I found myself spent and euphoric.  Maestro and I had an amazing time together.  I feel us becoming closer.  Our connection deeper.  Our future together more certain.  Our plans more definite.

I can say, without a shred of doubt or hesitation….

I am His.

He left early Monday to return home.  I was in desperate need of a nap and a shower.  There was only time for one of them…so I took a shower and readied myself for work.

After showering I noticed there was something written on my backside.  Something left behind by my Maestro.  I turned to look more closely in the mirror.

And there it was…

His mark.

My title…

Written in beautiful block lettering, by the hand of the man I love, was a four letter word.

Scribed backwards, so I could read it clearly in the mirror, was just this single word that says it all…

MINE

Mine

 

 

 

 

 

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Joy, Pain, and Minnie Pearl

Where were we?  Oh that’s right…we just finished up Saturday.

Maestro conducted a full orchestra throughout the weekend.  By the time Sunday rolled around (we affectionately call Sunday, Subday around here) I was soft putty in his hands.  Honestly, he could look at me and evoke a reaction.  Every nerve in my body longed for his touch and I found myself, once again, sequestered to the bed.

Under his spell.

He held me captive for hours delivering immense pleasure as only he can.  I love that he keeps a close check on my needs.  He got up and brought me some water, but paused before returning to the bed.

He rummaged through our bag of tricks and I was once again redirected…this time to keep my eyes closed.  He came back to the bed and put my collar on.  The collar that has his affectionate pet name for me (SLUT) in silver on the front.  Once I have that on, I find that any inhibitions I may have are erased from my being.

“I didn’t tell you to open your eyes.  Now close them, my dirty little slut”

Damn…he has a way with words…

I could hear him open something…like a cap.  I realized it was the tube of lubricant in the bag.  I wondered what would come next…

I readied myself.  I could feel him looking at me.

“Open your eyes.”

I opened them and saw that he’d selected a new item from our collection.  He was holding the new anal plug I’d ordered.  He wanted me to see it.  He wanted me to know what was in store for me.

It is a bit imposing, I must admit.  Have you ever ordered too much in a restaurant, only to realize that your eyes were bigger than your stomach?

In this case, my eyes were bigger than my ass…

I had a slight bit of fear pulsating through my veins as I watched him position me, ready me for this session of play.  I knew it would be intense, but I welcomed the opportunity to push more limits…and as I pondered this limit-pushing…

Maestro slowly pushed the tip of the plug inside me.

(Here’s a bit of trivia for you folks at home…I have named it Minnie Pearl, because when it goes in it makes me want to say….”HOWDY!”)

He continued to push further in….slowly…checking to see if I was okay.  And I was.  I was really okay.  It was wonderful.  I wanted it deeper…and Maestro obliged.  Once fully engaged, he took out another trick from the bag…

The riding crop.

He taunted me with it…rubbing my back with the tip.  Gliding over my legs and circling my backside.  He walked around me, surveying his best angle and then he delivered the first blow on my upper right cheek.

Such a sweet combination…the sting of the crop caused me to flinch, enhancing the depth of the plug.  He continued to find targets all over my bottom and was quick in his work.  I found myself close the edge when introduced the crop’s cousin…

The flogger.

Maestro is a professional when it comes to flogging.  He knows the exact force to use, the best places to strike, and the perfect rhythm and I found myself over the edge with Minnie in tow, before I could say Chuck Norris.

Then he began to alternate the crop and flogger and things became very intense.  I could feel my back warming from the sensations and I wanted more.  Being the adept Master he is, Maestro obliged and brought me to oblivion with swift precision.  I ended up in subspace once again and found myself joyously laughing from the experience.

Once I was back from the clouds and onto the bed…Maestro had another implement pulled from the bag (the never ending bag…reminds of Mary Poppins’ carpetbag…what else could possibly be in there). This time I was not allowed to open my eyes and felt the sharp sting of something metal…

The Wartenberg Pinwheel…or as I now call it, the Wheel of Fortune.  He started on the bottom of my right foot and came all the way up the back of my leg, across my reddened bottom, up my back and back down the other side…when he arrived at my left cheek, I began to laugh uncontrollably.  The sensation was unlike anything I’d felt before and I LOVED IT!  I felt the sensation of pain from the sharp points on my ass, but the feeling was more like a relentless tickle.  Maestro loved hearing me laugh and he tortured me with the wheel and his nimble fingers until I could take no more and I ventured into subspace again.

For those of you at home, keeping score…yes, that was twice in one day.

At this point, I wanted nothing more than to pleasure him.  He had given me an afternoon of hedonistic delight and it was my turn.  I love when he watches me take him deep in my mouth.  I love hearing him moan.  I love it when he talks explicitly dirty to me.

And I love the prize I receive when I bring him over the edge.

After all of the fun, I collapsed in his embrace and we woke up just in the nick of time.  The babysitter was due back any minute with the kids and everything was a mess…the room…the bed…and especially me.  We gathered everything up in the room…straightened the bed and hopped in the shower in record time and were ready to greet the kids as they came in the door.

Sigh….

What a perfect “Subday” Sunday…

 

 

BDSM Scene Preparation

I very rarely reblog anything…But this is pure gold, from one of my favorite blogs on WP…The Submission of Elle.

Her routine is almost identical to what I do to prepare for a scene…down to the preparation of the room, the pedicure and even the brows…(but I wax/tint instead with my fave girl at the brow bar… Hey there, Sarah! T know you’re reading this)

Elle has some great tips in this post…from the warm cloths, the extra-absorbent blankets/sheets, the drinks/snacks and of course…the ice dildos. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

The Submission of Elle

We don’t do big scenes weekly or even bi-monthly. I just heard your collective sighs, but really, it’s OK. We have lots of sex and intimacy, a good smattering of amuse-bouche, and at least one good “scenette” monthly, as conditions allow (a little afternoon delight while the kids are at school or at some sort of daytime function for a couple of hours). The epic type of scenes – the kind that last a few hours and wring every last little bit of pain and pleasure out of you – the kind that turn you into a sated, sweaty, quivering mass of sub-spaced giggling slap-me-happy – those delicious coveted times usually only happen every 4-6 weeks because the kids MUST be at a sleepover and there cannot be a hundred projects going on. We have to plan it and work towards it by clearing the path for it to…

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The Devil Is in the Details

If I were to post an ad for a Master/Dominant in the proverbial want-ads of D/s, here’s how it would read:

Wanted (ahem…Needed): Strong, charismatic man…Dominant/Master-type, confident, self-assured, disciplined, who is able to assess needs, provide guidance and direction, administer correction/punishment to a very strong-willed, sometimes cheeky…submissive. Candidate must be “hands-on” and demonstrative. He must possess strong communication skills and be able to express himself well, “orally.”

This individual should be willing to invest in building a power-exchange partnership and he must be very  “detail-oriented”  Experience with floggers, crops, paddles and restraints is a plus. Must be willing to push limits. Interested applicants should apply within

And with that description, there is no need for an ad or an interview…Maestro would have the job…and he has the job…holding his position as my Master with a firm grip.

Now back to the story.

Saturday morning came early for us…not that either of us slept much.  But little one was awake at dawn…and her big brother was not far behind.  We got up, had breakfast, enjoyed some time with the kids, and it seemed we would go on with our day as we usually do…doing things around the house and just spending family time together.  Being Valentines Day, we made arrangements to secure the kids, and I thought we would venture out for lunch or something. But Maestro had a different agenda…

“Come back to bed”

I was relieved…good idea, I thought…maybe we can grab a quick nap before the kids come back from the sitters.  Wrong…

A nap was not in his plan.  And he was direct in his instruction.

“Take off your clothes and lie on your stomach, please”

I did as instructed.  He crawled in beside me and began to rub my back.  It was heavenly. He brushed the hair away from my face and kissed me for what seemed an eternity…then he looked in my sleepy eyes and said…

“I want you on all fours…ass up.”

Strong communication skills…a must for the position.  

I did as I was told.  And he began to explore every part of me from the inside out.  Not missing anything.  I was about to ask his permission when he shushed me and said…

“Today, we are going to do something different.  I want you to learn to express yourself without talking.  When you are about to orgasm, I want you to raise your arm.  Do you understand?”

Raise my arm? You mean like I did in middle school as the annoying, over-achieving teacher’s pet?

I kept my thoughts to myself and said, “Yes, Sir.  I understand.”

“Good girl.  Now lie on your side, with your back to me.”

He pulled me to him and pressed my body into his…wrapping his leg around mine, holding me open.  Reaching around my stomach he made quick work of my open posture.  I began to moan with each movement.

“Remember, the task is to raise your arm…now focus…and be quiet.”

I figured it out…he was conditioning me to learn how to quiet myself minimizing sound when kids are home.  Smart man.

Providing guidance and direction…and correction.  Maestro really does have the job!

So within minutes, I raised my arm…raised it again.  Again.  Again.  As always, he plays me like an orchestra.  And then I noticed a more serious look on his face.  I could tell things were about to shift into a more heated exchange.

Before I knew it, before I could prepare myself…Maestro took me to sub space. There is nothing like that feeling.  Nothing like that complete abandon.  I melted into his arms and he held me close, until I was back on the planet.

We just stayed there for a while intertwined and I thought…maybe we are going to take a quick nap.  Wrong again. Seems I will never learn.

“You did really well…but I know you need more.  On your stomach again.  Ass up”

Willing to push limits

All sleepiness that I’d felt immediately dissipated, as I could tell he was intent on having me again. I waited for the first touch as I heard him rambling about in our bag of tricks.  I felt a nervous twinge in my belly…excited to see what was in store next.

He saw me looking back at him and he quickly redirected me…”Eyes forward”

“Yes, Master.”  I looked forward, intently listening to see if I could discern his choice from the bag…but it was to no avail.

Soon I felt him slide something inside me…something small.  He pushed it in deeply and then I felt the sweet vibration.  He put our newest gadget…a remote control bullet inside his favorite place.  This new toy has 10 settings and let me just say…he tried them all, making note of those that drove me crazy.  Once he knew which settings I liked, he was relentless.  He pursued my orgasms like a predator stalking his prey.

I raised my arm more than a grade school crossing guard.  He called it his remote key-less entry.

And he knew exactly which settings to use and how to torment me…

Hands-on and Detail-oriented…He nailed it…he has a position in this company forever.  

I commented to the Maestro (when I could compose myself long enough to talk) that he certainly knows exactly how to drive me out of my mind…

His reply, “You know darlin’, the devil is in the details”

And to quote Charlie Daniels… “Hell’s broke loose in Georgia and the Devil deals it hard”

Yes he does…

Relax…Don’t Do it

I simply love instructions…

Knowing this, Maestro obliged me by giving me tasks to complete each day.  One task…to return my son’s tablet that stopped working and get a replacement.  I had procrastinated doing this on my own, but when he asked me to do it, it was done in less than 24 hours.   The next task was to get a new wastebasket for my oldest son’s room.  Done.  There were a few other things he asked me to complete during the week.  All of them were finished in record time.

Then on Thursday night, the instructions took a more focused turn…

“When I get there tomorrow night, I want you completely clean shaven, wearing a dress, no panties.  I do not want you to cook anything for me…we will order in.  I do not want you to worry about cleaning everything in the house and making it look perfect.  I want you well-rested, relaxed and ready for me.  Do you understand?”

Boy did I understand…

Friday turned out to be an extremely hectic day.  Lots to do at work and barely enough time to get it all done prior to his arrival.  He texted me around 7:30 to let me know he was about 40 minutes away. I slipped on my black shift dress, with a cardigan…sans panties and began getting the kiddos to bed.  And just like that…he was here.

The dinner I ordered arrived shortly after he did.  We ate and caught up on the week’s events.  I could tell by the way he looked at me that he really liked the dress.  He asked if I did everything he asked me to do, and I told him I did.

He said, “That’s my good girl.”  And his hand made its way up my dress.

He whispered in my ear, “I really like this dress on you.  And I enjoyed dinner.  But what I really want to know is…are you ready for your Master?”

When that man whispers in my ear, the world stops and I become a melted pool of a woman under his spell.

I gathered myself and said, “Yes, Sir.  I am ready for my Master.”

He stroked my hair and said, “Good girl.”  His grasp tightened and he pulled my hair back to look into my eyes.  “Now, take the dress off.”

I quickly did as he asked.  He instructed me assume position,  to lie across his lap on the couch.  He caressed the backs of my thighs and spread my legs to find his special spot.  He was focused on bringing me to the edge, and bringing me there quickly…

And then he stopped.  WHAT????

He said, “You’re not allowed to cum yet.  Not until I tell you.  Do you understand me?”

WHAT???

Before I knew it, my bottom lip began to protrude into a large pout.

“You have to ask permission before having an orgasm.  I will decide when you are ready.”

He continued with his task of bringing me to the edge and stopping before I fell into abandon.  I was putty in his experienced hands and he continued to torment me.

“Face me and stand on the couch.”

I was a bit puzzled?  Stand on the couch?

“Come here.  Stand in front of me and open your legs.”

And I did exactly as he said.  And within moments, I felt my legs shaking from the ecstasy he administered.  I asked him in a breathless whisper…

“Master, may I please…” and my voice drifted off, interrupted by the surge of pleasure coming from my stance on the couch.

“May you what?” he growled.

I could barely muster the words.  It was so hard for me gather my thoughts long enough to formulate sentences.

“May I please cum?” I begged.

He pulled me down onto his lap and looked into my eyes, and simply said, “No.”

It was agonizing.  I had been brought to the edge over and over and hadn’t been allowed to release. He could see my frustration.  He could feel my agony.

“Do you know why I am doing this to you?  Do you know why I won’t allow you to cum?  Because I own you.  This is part of your training.  This is part of your submission to me.  I will reward you when I feel you have had enough.”

The sound of his voice does something for me.  But the sound of his voice when he commands me, pushes me closer to that edge of abandon.

“Now get move over there and open yourself wide for me.”

I complied…preparing myself…knowing I would not be allowed to release.  And he was relentless in his pursuit of my edge.  I was ready.  So ready.  He could sense how close I was.

He growled, “Who do you belong to?”

“You” I shouted.

His voice became more tender, as he clenched my hair.  “That’s right.  You are mine.  Now cum for me.”

The command of his voice sent me into oblivion in a matter of nanoseconds.

And finally…I had my release.  My screams of affirmation could be heard in a two-county radius.

Then he whispered in my ear….

“That’s my good girl.”

We went to bed early but neither of us got much sleep.  He made it his mission to give me the immense pleasure I craved.  I learned to ask his permission and our dance went on until the wee hours of the morning.

I served him.

He ravaged me.

I pleasured him more.

He used me for his pleasure.

And on..and on…

And this was within the first 12 hours of his arrival…I knew then it was going to be a GREAT weekend…and that I should relax and enjoy the ride.

 

Don’t Believe the 50 Shades of Hype…

Since the title of my blog is derived from the infamous book, Fifty Shades of Grey, I feel compelled to wax poetic about the upcoming movie, scheduled for release this weekend.

So here goes….

Quite frankly, I am growing tired of the hype surrounding the movie.  The question of rating.  The reference to “unusual behavior”. The constant barrage of trailers and previews.  And it all comes down to this, in my humble…submissive opinion.

It’s all a marketing ploy…

After all, while shopping for diapers, shampoo and beauty products at my favorite place, Target, I discovered that I can buy a “Fifty Shades of Grey” Starter Kit.  WHAT?  Yes..they exist.  There are different kits.  One comes with two blindfolds (I snickered to myself in the store, thinking that would be one hell of a game of blind-man’s-bluff) along with the obligatory massage oil.  The other kit has some form of sensual lubricant.  And they retail for about $20.00.  And just in time for Valentine’s Day, right?

So what’s all the hype about?  If you take away the kink, it’s just a story.  A contrived, unbelievable tale about a young, innocent woman who is seduced by a billionaire …who falls head over flogger in love with her.  Quite simply, in it’s skeletal form, it’s just a love story…complete with pages of playful email banter, tactile family dinners and grown-up sleepovers, with  explicit playrooms.  But because there is bondage.  Because there is a well-defined, consensual power-exchange, there exists this cloud of dark mystique.

Here’s another tidbit from my humble, submissive opinion:

Yes, it was the hot sex scenes that initially drew in the masses, causing a buzz louder than an archaic Hitachi Wand…but it’s the story of love that hooked the reader.  We all want to believe in it.  We all want someone who understands us.  We all want someone whose demons play well with our demons, right?  Well there you go…he’s a young executive with a troubled past, who happens to be a Dominant.  She is a wide-eyed, new college grad, who happens to be a submissive.  His need for discipline and control plays well with her need for direction and guidance.

And have you heard that one of the CEO’s from a major hardware chain sent a memo to several stores warning of a possible “run” on rope, in response to the movie.  Really?  And if that’s true, let’s hope they are giving away complementary safety cutters.  There are going to be a lot of novices out there…fired up from the movie…excited to duplicate the BDSM scenes from the dungeon.  And again, all of this just in time for Valentines Day.

Can you imagine what the conversation will be around the water cooler on Monday?  Wonder if the ladies will compare rope burns and dish about their marked bottoms…

And please know that my intention is not to be snarky…or cynical in this post.  I am shooting straight from my leather-clad hip.  It’s a book…that’s now a movie…that’s now a franchise…that will ride the wave of notoriety for as long as possible.  Ten years from now those “kits” will be yard sale fodder and we will look back at this phenomenon fondly, grinning to ourselves…sadistically.

As for me…and my Valentine.  We won’t be lining up at the movie theater.  Nor will we be lined up at the hardware store.  We are well-stocked over here with an assortment of accouterments that would make the man, Christian Grey, himself… blush.  We are not even going out in all of the Hallmark madness. We are simply celebrating each other…

Letting our demons come out to play together.

Faith, Restored…

Restored….

Things are much better now. I’ve had a trying start to 2015. I didn’t realize how much I’d distanced myself from everyone, especially Maestro. I guess it’s how I cope. Instead of reaching out to him for help, for support…I pushed him farther and farther away. My last post was my way of reaching out and initially, he didn’t take it well. I can certainly understand his perspective. Instead of just telling him how much I was hurting, I turned away from him and turned to my writing.

He was hurt that I didn’t open up to him, but being the strong man he is…he was able to put his own feelings aside and focus on me.  We talked for hours.  He helped me through the darkness I was feeling.  He helped me identify my triggers.  He helped me understand his triggers.  And at the end of our conversation, a talk that lasted into the wee hours of Friday morning, he made an announcement.

“I am coming up this weekend. I need to see you.”

We were planning a visit for Valentine’s weekend, so this was an exciting surprise.  At first, I worried that he would not be able to visit two weeks in a row.  It is a 7-hour drive, one way, after all.  But he was undeterred by time or distance.  He still planned to be here for Valentines, but he wanted to make sure I was okay.  He wanted to be there for me.  He wanted to make sure “we” were okay.  And being a man of his word…

At 1:15 am, Saturday morning, my Maestro was here.

One I saw him, everything was okay.  I immediately felt the protection and support I needed just by his presence.  We had a great weekend…quiet and relaxing.  And he is so good with my kids.  He understands how challenging it is for me to give them all of the attention they need, while trying to work and keep the house, and care for my father.  So he senses where I need the support and jumps in to help.  He keeps me calm and grounded when things become chaotic.

And he also knows how to give me the release I so badly need.  And in my recent stressed state, he understood just how far to push me, without going too far.  He knows what I need.

We are stronger than ever.  This was our first real challenge.  When I was falling he came to the rescue and caught me in those big strong arms of his.  When my problems were too much, he carried me.  When we began drifting apart, he closed the distance between us and showed up on my doorstep.

When I began to doubt everything, he restored my faith.

I learned from this experience…I learned that I need to trust his strength.  Trust his judgement.  And most of all, trust him to be the man I know he is.  The One who can handle it all.  The One who holds my fragile heart in his strong and worthy hands.

All my love to you, M.  See you again soon.