Magical Beasts

It is not my intent to sound dramatic, but I always seem to find myself in a hostage situation. Not literally. But different things consume my life. They hold me there with their demands. Their ransom disguised as responsibility. I can see freedom, but I can’t seem to get there. And just when I resign myself to Stockholm Syndrome, I am rescued.

Released.

Despite the titles I wear and roles I assume, I cannot deny who I am.

Always, I am his.

He is the only one who can rescue me from my captors.

He tears down the walls and pulls the doors off of the hinges. He scoops me up with his strong arms and takes me away from my holding cell.

He rescues me. He releases me. He reveals me.

He reminds me of who he is when he tilts my face to his. When his eyes meet mine. When his fingers touch my skin, the invisible rope that has me bound in knots slides effortlessly to the floor.

When his lips touch mine I am transported to a beautiful place. A sanctuary where I am always safe.

He slowly leads me back to me. Because at my core, I am a flawed and needy magical beast. I crave nothing more than my Master’s touch.

I am transformed by our depth of intimacy. I am changed by our absolute love and devotion to each other.

It is beyond a kinky scene. It goes beyond lovemaking. It is a metamorphosis, really.

And maybe I am rambling on about this man of mine. Maybe I am just pensive from the amazing time we spent together. I cannot do it justice with words. It transcends language, as it was on a different plane.

But I do feel different today. Closer to who I am. Closer to him.

Unicorn 420

(More to come)

 

 

Making Up for Lost Time

There is nothing like marathon make-up sex to make it all better.  Since M’s been back, we’ve been back at it…each and every and any opportunity we can.

In the morning before work…

Those” run home for a quick lunch” Nooners…

The “we have 30 minutes before the kids get home from school” afternoon delights

Those “time for bed” at 8:30 evenings where we don’t actually go to sleep until 1:00 am

The wee hour “wake up call” where there’s no need for an alarm, beacause we never go to sleep.

And as much as I love how he takes me.  How he controls me.  The immense pleasure we share…what I really love, is how close we are becoming.  It feels like the brief hiatus ignited our devotion to one another.  I find myself more submissive.  I am more acutely aware of my service to him.  I want to give more of myself to him.

And on a side note, all of this action is great for my fitness routine.

Now if I can just get some sleep.

all the time

 

 

The River Wild

rafting

Maestro and I took a little sojourn yesterday. White water rafting through some tumultuous “rapids”. It was another of our spontaneous trips. No planning or notice. No time to pack. No need for anything.

We never even left the bed.

As M entered my raft, it was obvious that he was to be my guide for the evening. He was adept at navigating the rough waters ahead. He was in total control.  He led me into the river, maneuvering towards the first set of rapids.  The wetness was all around and I could tell the waves were increasing in intensity.  I decided to assist my guide by grabbing his oar and paddling toward the first part of our expedition.  He was appreciative of my attention to detail, showing me how best to steer.

The waves lapped over the raft again and again.  The intensity continued to build and his skilled maneuvers took me straight into another set of rapids.  These were even more intense and I found myself soaked.  The rush was incredible and he could see that I was ready for more.  He navigated the raft with sharp expertise, changing direction to yet another set of rapids.  These were so fierce…so consuming that we both ended up drenched.

We never capsized.  M kept the raft afloat and each set of rapids proved more powerful than the ones before.  I was eager to go farther each time.  I wanted more, and the way he maneuvered the raft in perfect direction, gave me the ride of my life.

At the end of our lengthy expedition I was parched and only he could quench my thirst.  After drinking my fill, he guided me out of the river and we basked on the shore…both of us spent and energized at the same time.  Quietly lying there, recollecting the journey we had taken.

As I adjusted my pillow and rolled over to spoon into his form, I smiled to myself.

Wonder where our next trip will be?

 

“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.

Longing and Belonging

I have a deep appreciation for all music. In my opinion some of the best songs were written in the 1950’s, when idealism and hope were alive and thriving.
This song has such a deep meaning.

No matter where…no matter when.

Whether traveling to warm desert sands or the Dells of Wisconsin, this perfect feeling of belonging to someone transcends time and distance.

Safe travels, my -M-

Shine On…

This is one of my favorite Pink Floyd songs…

And in my humble opinion, her cover does it justice.

“Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light.
Shine on you crazy diamond.”

Aren’t we all exposed in the light?

Take a minute and listen to this…it IS worth your time.

SHINE ON…