At a Loss…

closer please

I am at a loss for words…

And yet I sit here, trying to share with you what I experienced this weekend.  Trying to figure out a way to put it out there in words that can be understood.

And even I don’t fully understand it.

Maestro arrived at 5:07 am on Saturday morning.  He decided to sleep for a while after work before making the drive to me, putting him here before daybreak.  Things were different from the beginning.  There was a different feel to his arrival.  It didn’t feel like he was coming for a visit.

It felt like he was coming home.

And after such a long and tedious drive through the night, he was ready for bed.  Or so I thought…

By 6:34 am, I’d had so many orgasms that I felt lightheaded.  Each one was more intense than the previous one.  The freshly laundered sheets were muddled in a matter of minutes and Maestro was intent on pushing further.

With his hand firmly grasping my throat, he growled, “I am not finished using you yet.”

And he carried on with his intent.  Pushing me.  Extracting ecstasy at every move.  I was almost in a state of bewilderment, almost at my limit, when he relented and allowed me respite…giving me the opportunity to please him…to worship him.

We got little sleep and the kids were up very early.  They were excited to see M.  They adore him. We spent the majority of the day playing with them…and the babysitter arrived.  We decided to grab an early dinner.  I could tell Maestro was thinking about something, I could sense it.  As we ate, he said, “I am coming here to stay.  No more traveling back and forth.  This is where I want to be.  I have a job offer and it’s time to make the change.”

I was shocked.  We had been talking about his relocation, with a projected time frame for the summer.  So this was sudden and I was beyond happy.  I need this man, this wonderful man, in my life daily…I need to be in his presence, daily.

So we sat there and planned.  And he will be here this weekend.  This is REALLY happening!

Looking back at the inception of this blog, of my journey at that time…I could have never dreamed that this would happen.  I never dreamed that I would ever find the happiness, as I have with him.  I never knew I could have the whole enchilada…have my cake and savor it too…

Think about it…I have been blessed with a man who loves and adores me.

And I love and adore him.

He loves my kids.

My kids love him.

He loves and accepts my family (my ailing father).

My family LOVES him.

He is able to fulfill my mind (not easy, I am an over-analytical, people pleaser)

He is able to lead and protect me.

He is able to take me to places I’ve never been.

He allows me to be my wickedly kinky self (as he is also wickedly kinky, even more than me).

And here we go…

My Master, as I am His…His slave.

He owns me, saying I am His most precious possession.

And we are about to embark on this crazy journey together as One.

So again, I am at a loss… a loss of what to say… a loss of the mess I was before.

Looking forward to who I have become.  Who I will become…

As we become One.

one day

 

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Tests, Initials, and Labels

So the post I wrote on the alphabet had me thinking…there are really so many letters and labels out there in the BDSM community.  Think about it, the community itself is identified by it’s four letters

Bondage and Discipline/Domination and submission/Sadism and Masochism

Keeping this theme going, the main tenet to the lifestyle are these 3 letters:  S S and C

Safe, sane and consensual.

And preferably, DDD

Drug, disease and drama-free.

And for those who practice DD (domestic discipline), the lifestyle is often described as TTWD (this thing we do).

So many letters…

And with the recent BDSM test that circulated around here on WP, I found it interesting…

The categories that I fit into…

Of the M/s, I am the s (no surprise here)

Of the S & M, I am the M (truly no surprise either)

I enjoy the B.  I enjoy the D.  (not a shocker)

Along with that analysis…

And I am venturing into a 24/7 dynamic with my M, as we are embarking on a TPE relationship.

But we are currently in a LDR.

In addition to these initials, I am a SWF and have been told on some occasion that I also fit into the MILF category, which makes me chuckle.  I think that horny bag boy wanted to put more than groceries in my trunk.

So many initials.  So many labels.  But it doesn’t define who we are.  And if I may digress for a quick minute…on the Myers-Briggs personality test, I am an ENFP, for those who keep up with that stuff.

For those who follow astrology…I am a Sagittarius.

For those who follow the Chinese Zodiac, I am a rat, water rat to be precise.

Back to the BDSM labeling… let’s summarize by the letters only:

I am a SWF, who is a s to her M, that is the M in S & M, enjoying a little B & D as she ventures into a 24/7 TPE relationship, that is currently a LDR, until her M in FL is able to relocate to GA.

What the letters don’t say:

She is fierce, strong woman who openly and freely chooses to submit to her partner, who has evolved into her Master.  She has been plagued with significant trust issues for most of her life and enjoys being able to let go completely as his devoted slave, giving all control to her M.  In doing so, she enjoys that he pushes her limits through various scenarios…and she finds those involving a certain degree of pain and/or bondage, to be the most pleasurable.  She is eager for the day when she and her M are able to live freely in a total power exchange relationship, because for now there is 7 hours separating them.

But their day is coming.

masters feet

 

And they won’t define themselves by the letters, or the labels.  But rather they will define their devotion to each other by:

The unspoken.  The subliminal.

The mundane.  The profound.

The awe-inspiring.  The day-to-day.

The good.  The bad.

The everything.

Because that is what they are to each other…

ABC’s of BDSM/Kink

In celebration of Dr. Seuss’ birthday this month…let’s go on a little sojourn into the ABC’s of BDSM and kink, shall we?

A is for Anal.  Come on ladies, ass up.  It’s no longer just for birthdays, anniversaries and make-up sex.  I’ll Analyze it for you.  It is Amazing. So get off of yours and get some…

B is for Bondage.  Bound by ropes, cuffs or even words…there is no freedom like it. Hog-tied.  Tied to the bed.  Hands in front.  Hands behind.  Legs.  Ankles.  Hands tied to legs…to ankles…to the bed…I could go on…

C is for Control. The word itself stirs me…In my humble submissive opinion, it is best given away and Consensually coerced with the use of a strong Crop and well-positioned Clamps.

D is for Dominant.  Delicious.  Decisive.  Direct and Demonstrative.  All I can say, in Southern-speak is DAAYYUUMM. (Which is DAMN…for those of y’all who don’t speak the language)

E is for Exhibitionism.  Could you would you in a boat? Could you would you in my throat?  Could you would you in plain sight?  Could you would you when it’s bright?  It’s anytime.  Anywhere. Exposed.  Erotic.  Exciting.

F is for Fetish.  Fly your freak flag. All are welcome.  Flags of a feather Freak together, with Floggers and all.

G is for Good Girl.  These 2 words, when used together, dripping from the lips of my M, ignite a fire in my loins that burns like the flames of Hades. That’s HOT…Damn HOT.

H is for Hitachi Wand.  You know you’re in for a fun night when the lights flicker and dim as it is switched on. Now, that’s some powerful shit…Hello and HOWDY, Mr. Hitachi.

I is for Insatiable. To quote the late-great-Barry White…”My darling..I can’t get enough of your love baby”  (Sing it to yourself in his baritone and you’ll totally get it)

J is for Jesus.  Not trying to be funny here…but I guarantee I say His name about 100 times in the midst of a kinky weekend.  Just sayin’.  As God is my witness…

K is for Know thyself.  To set boundaries and establish limits, one must know who they are.  K is also for Kink.  And lots of it.  Go big or go home.

L is for Little.  It’s a wonderful place to be…sometimes stocked with glitter and rainbows…It can also stand for Love.  Lust.  Lustful.  Lusting after…

M is for Masochism.  The sheer pleasure from pain. Mouth-watering smacks on the ass that Melt. My Master is a master at this…More, please.

N is for Nipple clamps.  These implements demand upright attention.  And there is something so Naughty about having someone tug on your chain.  State of Nirvana guaranteed…

O is for OH MY GOD…Orgasms.  Preferably lots of them.  Sometimes they are denied, but when allowed…they are Overwhelming.  Oh..my.

P is for Paddle.  Ah, the precise Pain from the use of a Proper Paddle. It’s Penetrating.

Q is for Quiche.  In order to do all of this kinkery…one must eventually eat to keep one’s strength up.  On a side note..real men do eat quiche and they also eat pussy for that matter. So eat the fucking quiche already.  You already know what’s for dessert.

R is for Rope.  Japanese silk.  Jute.  Nylon.  Regardless of the material, it’s the technique that counts, Scout’s honor.

S is for Safe and Sane.  It’s the Sadists out there you have to watch out for, you know.  Sluts beware.

T is for Talk.  “I am your dirty whore from way back, Daddy.” I fucking love to Talk dirty during hot, carnal sex.  Although I don’t always get to say much when his cock is halfway down my Throat.

U is for Use Me.  Analogy:  What “good girl” is…when spoken to me…”Use me” is…when I say it.  It’s global warming, climate-changing dialogue that turns me into a dripping mess…as I anticipate the Unspeakable things awaiting me.

V is for Vibrators.  Be mindful of the friendly Vibrator packaged as a personal massager…it’s certain to Violate you in ways unfathomable…such Vigor.

W is for Wet. Here it is used in a sentence.  Whips and Wartenburg Wheels make me Wet. Weally…Weally…WET.

X is for, you guessed it…X-RATED.  Once again…my humble and submissive opinion.  Handle your business in the bedroom (or wherever it may be for the Exhibitionists) and act like you are making an XXX rated movie.  Crank it up a notch whether or not the camera’s rolling.  Or whether or not you know it’s there….

Y is for Yours.  It is about belonging to your One.  It should be said frequently.  It’s a powerful statement.  Practice with me, “I am YOURS.”  Say it loud.  Say it proud.  You know who You are.

Z is for Zen.  We, subbies out there refer to this as “subspace” which is a state achieved when you lose all conscious awareness and rely on the sublime feeling of pure ecstasy as you float in the moment.  It is heaven on earth.  ZEN….Namaste…hey…hey…hey

So I will close with this…

Down and dirty and downright flirty, this little post is meant to amuse those who use those

For their pleasure, with a feather or even paddled and likely straddled.

Some like it hot and some like it cold.  Some want them young.  And some want them old.

Some crave the pain while others like to restrain.  Some prefer the view from the top as they wield their crop to their unsuspecting bottoms’ bottoms…

Waiting to hear that first “POP”

But it’s all in good fun, for now I must run.  The wheel calls my name in decibels of pain.

Waiting for “good girl” to drip from his lips as I arch my back and hips and spread my thighs, I watch his eyes and I hear my sighs ring out into night’s sky…

I recite in my head as I approach the first O…

Oh The Places You’ll Go.  And Go.  And Go. And Go.

Oh the places

Happy Birthday, Dr. Seuss…

 

 

Shelter From the Storm

It’s after 2:00 am.  I can’t sleep, there’s too much on my mind.  Readers, I warn you….this is not going to be my typical post.  I’m in a state, so bear with me on this one.  It needs to come out. So here goes….

Emotional vulnerability is not my thing.  I rarely open up to people and very seldom do I show true emotion.  I keep my feelings in check until I can deal with them in private.  It’s just how I am wired. This is why submission is such an integral part of me.  In a scene, I can be vulnerable (more so in a physical sense) and I must let go to experience it.  It is a literal manifestation of vulnerability and for a long time, it gave me what I craved.

Until meeting Maestro, my submission was focused exclusively in the physical realm.  I was comfortable to be in a submissive “role” when engaged in a scene with one of my suitors.  But never did I allow myself to become emotionally vulnerable.  My guard was always up, as were my towering walls.  And if I felt someone was about to scale one of my walls, I would simply run.  It is an instinctive defense mechanism.

But Maestro changed all of that.  I felt like I was re-wired in a sense.  For once, I felt safe to be emotional.  To be vulnerable.  I felt protected.  I found myself embracing my suppressed submissiveness.  I began to feel things.  Experience things.  I didn’t run.  I could allow myself to swim in the deep waters, because he had my back.  And I knew that he wouldn’t allow anything to happen to me.  Submission was becoming more than a scene.  It was allowing me to finally become me.

So on this emotional and spiritual journey of mine,  I have learned many things.  I understand faith and grace and unconditional love.  But at the present time, I don’t feel very submissive.  And I am most upset about that.

Looking back at my two marriages, I was the strong one.  I was the one who handled everything.  I had the career and ran the house with a stern hand while raising and nurturing children. And with the crystal clear vision of hindsight, I understand why they ended.  That is not the natural order of things and it was destined for failure.  Upon deep reflection, I feel that I created the environment.  My reluctance to be vulnerable.  My inability to relinquish any form of control.  My need to lead it all, helped convert these two (polar opposite) men I married, into blubbering idiots….dependent on me for every decision.  Dependent on me to handle it all.  My inability to let go…my inability to be vulnerable helped to create an environment of learned helplessness.

And I am terrified that I am once again, subconsciously this time, headed for a similar scenario.

I just lost my mother a month ago.  That’s a pretty catastrophic event to endure and I was there for it all, spending many nights with her in the hospital.  Wanting to be alone with her for the communion of it just being us, but also because I wanted the privacy to be emotional.  And I am having a difficult time letting go.  I am really struggling to grieve.  I don’t think any of my friends or family really see this.  I put on the strong face and work through it.  I can maintain a stoic front for as long as I have to.  But the difference is….I don’t want to “have to”any longer.

In the midst of this, I have pulled away from Maestro.  I feel my instinct to run creeping back into my thoughts.  And I don’t want to run from him.  But I have had so much to handle…mom died…the kids have been terribly sick…I got sick…we were in a car accident (all of this in a 3 week span.)  And I am still caring for my father…still working as the only breadwinner…still getting up every morning and being a single mom. It gets to be too much at times.

Sometimes, I just want to curl up in his arms and know that I am protected.  That everything will be alright.  I want to be the little.  I want to hand over my burdens.  But he is seven hours away and this is when it really sucks to be in a long-distance relationship.  And here is my struggle with my submission.  I have pulled away and pushed him away…telling him I need to cope with things on my own.  I have been distant and in-turn, I feel him becoming distant…which is the opposite of what I want or need.  I am sure I am sending mixed signals, but what I need more than anything is the feeling of protection.  To complicate matters, he has a lot going on in his life right now, too.  So I can’t expect him to make the trip here every weekend.  But I need him.  I don’t want my stoic front to fool him into thinking I don’t.  I do need his strength.

And I need my submission to him, which feels a bit lost in all of this.  But to process, I need it now more than ever.  And part of that submission is being honest with myself and with him by admitting that I do need him.  I need his guidance.  I need his level-head…and his way of making me laugh…I need how he simplifies my life just by talking me through whatever task is in front of me…whatever I am facing.

I need shelter from the storm.

Not a word was spoke between us there was little risk involved
Everything up to that point had been left unresolved
Try imagining a place where it’s always safe and warm
“Come in” He said
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm”.

I was burned out from exhaustion buried in the hail
Poisoned in the bushes and blown out on the trail
Hunted like a crocodile ravaged in the corn
“Come in” He said
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm”.

“Sister Christian”

Thought I’d lure you in with the title!  Who can resist that?

The sheer mention of the Night Ranger classic takes me back to a simpler time…when the biggest dilemma in my life revolved around which acid-wash jeans to wear to school. When my biggest inconvenience was having to fast-forward through the songs I didn’t like on my worn-out Footloose soundtrack cassette.  When my hopes and dreams were as big as my hair. It was a time when my burdens were few.

Life was good.

And Sister Christian was the song.

What a venture down memory lane…

If you will recall, I recently wrote about meeting one of my readers in person.  That may not seem like a big deal to some of you.  For me it was huge.  The fact that I write about D/s along with spirituality, attracts a mixed group of followers.  This particular reader finds herself on a similar journey within her marriage.  So we do have common ground, but within very different contexts.  She is married and engages in D/s with her husband.  Until recently finding the One, my Maestro, I went through men like I went through those acid-washed jeans in 1983…fast-forwarding to the ones I liked.  Thank God, I found Him in the midst of the chaos.  And thankfully I am finding what I seek spiritually, reconnecting with God.

I was initially nervous about meeting her in person.  Like I mentioned before, there is a safety and comfort of writing behind a computer screen…putting your deepest, in my case-darkest, thoughts out there for the world to see.  So the thought of meeting a reader, face-to-face, was a bit unsettling at first…there is nowhere to hide.  This is where the shit gets real.  And it did.

She was an absolute delight.  We met in a nearby restaurant and immediately hugged, like long-lost friends do.  The conversation was non-stop from the moment we got together.  She is a brilliant woman with several degrees, one of which is a PhD in Theology.  How fascinating.  We dished on everything from D/s…to kids…to marriage…to all of the different kinks we’ve read about on here….to spirituality….to business ventures….to health and wellness…to the Bible….to discipline…to healing spiritually…and all the way back around to the subject of D/s.

We eventually went to my house where we could have some privacy to talk in more depth.  We were standing in my kitchen when she asked about different blog characters.  I provided a bit more detail about those she asked about.

She then said, “Tell me where you have found God in all of this.”

Wow…that’s the question, isn’t it?  Where did I find God in the midst of my turbulent descent into BDSM?

My answer, “Everywhere.”  Which is so true.  As I reflected on the question, I realized that He has been everywhere. First and foremost, as my protector…I did some risky things in the beginning, scary things, things I haven’t even written on here, and through His grace, I came out of it safely.  And then He has served as my guide…helping me to discern those who were worthy, from those who weren’t.  Giving me the insight to know when to let go.  And then as a father…forgiving me of my trespasses. loving me unconditionally as I sorted all of this debauchery out.  So in a strange sort of way, God has been the prototype, the example of the ultimate Dom.  Which is completely her line of thought.  She just helped me arrive at the same place by posing the question.

You know, she helped me through a lot things.  And I don’t feel this was a coincidental meeting at all.  I feel that we were meant to meet….meant to be friends.  She is an amazing woman and I have deep respect for her.  I admire her commitment to her husband, to her family, to her faith.  I know I will learn things from her.  I realize that our meeting was yet another one of those God-moments in my life.  Despite her background in theology, her knowledge of the Bible, and her deep and unwavering belief, she was not “judgey” at all.  Like me, she is who she is and she is a real person. She is a person who understands my journey, without critical judgement.  A person convicted in her faith that didn’t try to condemn me for my unorthodox path.  And she didn’t try to convince me to drink the Kool-Aid.  There was no Kool-Aid.  All she was offering was friendship.

And because I felt a sister-like kinship with her immediately, I am sure she understands my choice for the post song.

So my dear friend…my Sister Christian, thank you for the visit.

And many thanks for the gift of your friendship.

Watching the Wheels

“Watching the Wheels” is one of my favorite songs of all time.

John Lennon died on my eight birthday. I always felt a kinship…a responsibility to remember him because we share a day.  And to me, this is one of his best.

I find this song appropriate as I prepare for my day tomorrow. A few posts back I wrote about a reader who reached out to me as Maestro and I were about to watch Exodus. Her message struck a chord with me as we are on a similar journey…both of us seeking God and enlightenment in our D/s relationships. And tomorrow, I will have the opportunity to meet this lovely woman.

As serendipity would have it, she is visiting a nearby state and is willing to make the drive here to meet me. I have to admit, I am a bit nervous. Yes, I know….I’ve done things far scarier than this that involve a variety of gentlemen and a variety of scenarios. But this is a different kind of nervous. After all, outside of a handful of friends and close acquaintances, no one knows my real identity. On the blog, I am anonymous…equipped with a laptop and a pseudonym.  I can express my thoughts freely.

And tomorrow, I will sit face to face with a reader (who I might add is also sharing her identity) to discuss this tumultuous journey of mine. To discuss the experiences within her journey (hers is a bit different, as she is exploring D/s in her established marriage). To discuss where we find God in all of this. How we seek solace in the guidance and direction of our partners and ultimately in The Almighty.

I am excited to meet my new friend.  I am eager to hear about her journey.  I hope that we are able to glean much from each other’s experiences.  It will be refreshing to talk with someone who sees the dynamic in a similar light as I do.

 

So I leave you with this…

People say I’m crazy, doing what I’m doing
Well they give me all kinds of warnings, to save me from ruin
When I say that I’m okay, well they look at me kinda strange
“Surely, you’re not happy now, you no longer play the game”

2015: A Space Odyssey

Where do I even begin?

The New Year started with my mother’s passing.  She had been in and out of the hospital and in various nursing centers for the last two years.  While she declined suddenly, she was at peace and I feel she was ready to go.  I was there with her, as I wanted to be.  She birthed me into this world, and I was there to help her transition to the next.  It was a beautifully painful journey.

Maestro insisted on being here for me, despite the fact that because of previous work obligations, he could only stay for the weekend.  So he drove the seven hours (one way) to get here that Friday night and then turned around on Sunday and drove back.  What a wonderful man to come all that way to console me.  To help me make arrangements.  To be there for my kids.  He took me to the cemetery to select a final burial place for mom.  He took me to find her a suit.  He took me out for a fantastic lunch.  He took me to the grocery store and bought my food for the week.

Maestro also took me somewhere else.  He took me on a journey to sub-space.

If you will remember, as I have alluded in several posts, that I am a cynic.  I am a skeptic.  I don’t see the glass half-full, or empty.  I don’t even believe that’s really water in the glass.  So the concept of “sub-space” seemed like the proverbial unicorn of D/s.  I’ve read a hundred posts recounting the details of this state of nirvana.  But I have always been skeptical.  I have experienced immense pleasure.  I have had moments that were so intense, that I felt I could almost lose consciousness.  But I had never experienced that level of euphoria.  This entirely different category of bliss, called “sub-space”

I had never experienced it until that night…that Saturday night.

We’d had an exhausting day making last minute arrangements.  We were all tired.  Maestro was tired from driving half the night, and then shuttling me around for the day.  I was tired from spending four sleepless nights in the hospital with my mother prior to her passing.  The kids were tired from their schedules being topsy-turvy with different sitters.  So I figured we would have a little “alone time” and drift off to sleep.  Boy, was I wrong.  And I should realize by now…never make an assumption when Maestro is conducting the orchestra.

There’s always time for another concert.

The kids were asleep and we were on the sofa watching TV.  He pulled me close to kiss me.  His kiss was long and passionate.  I could see the look in his eyes.  I knew he wanted more of me.  He wanted me then.  There.  On the sofa.  He began bringing me to the edge, when he clutched a handful of hair and said, “No, not yet.  Not until I tell you.”

He instructed me that I needed to gain his permission before climaxing and that I must speak the words he wants to hear, once I am given permission.  He taunted me some more. Finally, I begged him to allow me to release.  He stroked my face.  Looked into my eyes. Smiled at me.

And then he said, “Now.  Cum for me now.  Look at me.  Tell me.”

I looked into his large hazel eyes and said, “I love you, Master” as I came unglued in the ecstasy of the moment.

I could tell he was pleased.  He stroked my hair and said, “Very good.  Now let’s move to the bedroom.”

Once in there, I showed him some of the items I’d recently purchased to add to our collection of fun.

There was a new paddle.  Leather and imposing.

New nipple clamps.  Adjustable for comfort…or discomfort.

A new collar.  Black leather, with a silver, four-letter word…describes me perfectly when I am with my M.

And a new flogger.  Nice handle.  Black suede.  Short tails.

I didn’t think we would do much with the items, since it was so late and we were both spent.  But once again, never make an assumption when it comes to the Maestro.

“Hand me the collar, please.”

I handed him the collar and brushed the hair away from my neck.  He fastened it quickly and checked for comfort.  Tugging on it, he was pleased with the fit.

“Now hand me the flogger and paddle.  Get on the bed.”

I readied myself for the first blow, but he never does what I expect he will do.  Instead he got into the bed and called me over to him.  He held my face and kissed me, stroking my face, my breasts, my neck.  Feeling the collar with his fingers.  I was so turned on at this point that I reached down to stroke him.

He grabbed my wrist and said, “You don’t touch me until you have permission, understand?”

WHOA…..That was so hot.  I forgot my manners and said, “Yes.”

A sharp tug on my collar quickly reoriented me.  “Yes, Sir.  Yes, Master.  I understand.”

He stroked my cheek and said, “Now show yourself to me.  Give me access to all of you. On your knees…facing away from me.”

I did exactly as I was told.  I could feel his hands on me.  I could feel his fingers exploring me.  On the outside.  On the inside.  All over my body.  All under his control.

“Who do you belong to?” he would ask.

“You.  I belong to you”

“Good girl.  Now I want you to pleasure me.”

I quickly did as he asked.  I absolutely love giving him what he wants.  I love to worship his body as it should be worshipped.  Focusing on him.  Hearing his approval.  Feeling him encompass the inside of my warm mouth.

He told me to lie on my stomach.  As I faced towards him on my stomach, I could see that he had something in his hand.  I couldn’t tell what it was, as the room was dark. In a moment’s notice, I felt the sharp sting of the flogger across my backside.

I moaned in delight.  He was swift in his delivery (I could tell he had done this many times before) and I found myself writhing in pleasure from each thud.

As this went on I became more and more responsive.  I was almost in a frenzied state.  Each blow was atonement.  Each stroke was release.  Each hit was me letting go of all of the pain I’d just experienced with my mother.  Each sharp recoil was pure release.  I found myself close to the edge again…knowing I needed to seek permission.

“Please….please.  I am so close.”  I begged.

“Not yet.  You’re not ready. On your knees facing me.”

I faced him on all fours.  He once again, held my face and kissed me.  Plunging his fingers deep inside me, he brought me to a place I’d never ventured to before.  I felt explosion and release instantly.  I couldn’t contain myself, the release was everywhere.  I collapsed onto the pillow and began recounting this life-changing experience.

I wanted to call someone.  I needed to tell someone.  This humored him and we shared a few laughs.  I mean who do you call at 3:00 in the morning…to tell them about the incredible night you’ve had?

So this was my sub-space.  This was euphoria like never before.  This was me floating….

And I forgot an important detail about sub-space…I forgot about it’s ugly cousin, sub-drop.

In an instant, I was shaking.  Shaking out of my skin.  And the tears.  The ones I desperately hold on to. The ones I don’t share with anyone…they began pouring out of me.

I wept.  I have never cried like that in front of anyone before in my life.

And my Maestro was right there.  He wrapped me up in his arms and wiped the tears away.  He talked me through it.  And for the first time in my life, I let go.  I really, honestly, wholeheartedly…let go.

He was there helping me to do it.  Helping me cope with all of the emotion.  All of the pain.  All that needed to come out.

I fell asleep in his embrace, a changed person.  A free person.  Not held by chains or weighed down with baggage from my past.

I was safe.  I was secure.  I was free.  I was his.

I understand that it is he who makes me whole, boldly going where no man has gone before…

Space, the final frontier.

Ahhhh…until our next voyage, Number One.  Till our next voyage…

“And I’m going to be high as a kite by then…”