Giving and Receiving…

The alarm was harsh and direct….

Wearily, I picked up my phone to silence its interruption at 4:15 am.

And then it hit me…


On 12/13/14, I boarded a plane at 6:00 am and flew to see my Maestro.  As sleepy as I felt, the adrenaline quickly relieved me of the need for coffee, and I found myself focused and in the zone.  I arrived in the Sunshine state less than 3 hours later.  The weather was perfect and there were palm trees lining the concourse.  I immediately felt like I was on vacation.

I found him in the airport, waiting for me under a large Christmas tree…just like the gift he is in my life.

Once we kissed, I realized that I had finally arrived at my destination.

Not a place….but a state of mind.  Wherever he is…is home for me.

We ate breakfast and were lucky to get an early check-in at the hotel.  I thought we would take some time to nap, since we were both awake so early.  But there was no rest for the weary….

Maestro had a much different agenda.

After hours of play, I found I was no longer tired.  I felt energized and alive.  There is something about this man…he can wreck a well put-together hairdo in about 10 minutes, changing it from Playboy bunny hair to Medusa.

The things he does to me.

The way he controls me…

The way he pleasures me….

The way he takes me. 

Shortly after high noon, I was walking like I was a dancer in a Beyonce video.  (Cue “All the Single Ladies…”)

We had a perfect day.  Lots of sex.  Great conversation.  Great food.  Good times!  But by 10:00 pm, we were both beyond exhausted and fell asleep.

I love waking up next to him.  Feeling him watch me as I sleep.  Looking into his eyes and knowing what he wants me to do.  Knowing this, only by his look.  There are no words needed between us.

There is nothing like full submission to Maestro.  Giving in and giving all.

All for him.

Giving it all and expecting nothing in return…but getting more than I ever dreamed possible .

The way he makes me feel is a gift.  By submitting and letting go, I am able to experience freedom.  I can be myself and be accepted.  I can be a woman again…not someone’s mom….not someone’s daughter…a real, warm-blooded, wanton, sexual being.  Asking for whatever I crave, knowing he will not judge my requests. Knowing that as he violates me, he still honors me…and treats me like a queen…always giving me pleasure beyond pleasure with the degree of kink and Dominance I love….with plenty of spankings for this naughty girl.

After all, it was our birthday weekend…spankings are in order, right?




The Sub-Whisperer

We were having such a lovely evening together.

Such connection.

I am a hater…let’s read that again, HATER, of public displays of affection.

I always find a way to avoid it.

No hand-holding…I’ll pretend to fidget with something in my purse to keep my hands occupied.

No hugging or embracing…I will fake a coughing fit that could bring medical personnel from a two-mile radius to avoid this in public

And no kissing…I will keep coughing if needed, but I may throw in a fake phone call for good measure.

But this time, when He reached for my hand I didn’t fidget.

I let go of me and all of my weird quirks and grabbed His hand.

His big strong hand.

And yes the PDA was slightly uncomfortable at first, but I quickly acclimated.

We did it all…out in the open.  Hugging, kissing and hand holding.

Dinner was perfect.  He is a natural gentleman, pulling out my chair when we arrived at the table.  The server was impressed and forgot herself when she said out loud, “Awwww. Real chivalry.  Sweet!”

We noshed off of each other’s plates as if we had been together for years.  The conversation and the energy was so intense, we made the server a bit uncomfortable.  We could tell she was afraid to interrupt us to ask if we needed anything.

After dinner we talked.  And talked.  And talked.  We were never without something to say to each other.

We arrived back at his room and we laid across the bed and talked.  And talked.

Did I mention that he drove SEVEN hours (VII in Roman numerals) to see me.

Yes, SEVEN hours one way.

We began kissing and it was amazing.  The closeness.  The intensity.  The undeniable depth.

He was in no hurry to move to anything more.  We just laid there and kissed.  And talked.

Each kiss drew me in deeper.  I knew this was different.,,what I was feeling was different.

He was different.  I could be myself around Him.

Just me…

He whispered in my ear, “You please me…I love how you respond to my kiss…to my touch.  Now, I would like for you to take your dress off.”

Without thought.  Without trepidation, I removed my dress.

I had no inhibition.  None of the usual body-anxiety that I typically feel when undressing in front of someone for the first time.

I confidently stood in front of him.

Completely naked.

And he was still fully dressed.

He sat there and just took me in.  Looking at every square inch of my body.  Touching me as he carefully studied each curve, each bend, each edge, each blemish on my skin.

Even the scars.

Even the stretch marks, remnants from three children.

Again…I had no reservation.  I felt comfortable.

I felt beautiful.

And for once, I truly felt at peace in the moment.

I reflected on what was happening as it happened.  It was almost as if I stepped out of the moment to observe the moment.

And during this reflection, I began to think of Him like a horse whisperer.

He had a way of taming me…but not breaking me.

He knew how to speak my language.  He knew how to make me comfortable and at ease.

He also knew my issues with trust.  My instinct to run.

But I chose not to…not this time.

I was steadfast and still

But without a bridle.

Not saddled.

Not tied.

Not whipped.

I was free to go.  Free to roam.

But I wanted to stay.  I wanted to be in His presence.

I craved his touch.  His kiss.

His approval.

The evening carried on and he continued to explore every part of me.  His attention to detail was beyond overwhelming.  He knew how to bring me over the edge in ways I had not experienced.

And he relished in doing so.

Over and over.

And over.  And over.

He was completely focused on figuring me out from the inside out.  His pleasure was in seeing me (and hearing me…my God I was sooo loud) enjoy Him.

His focus went on for hours.

He would whisper in my ear, stroke my hair.

Clutch my throat.

And make my body shake uncontrollably with pleasure.

Sublime in His style of dominance.

And knowing how I craved His touch, He saw fit to give me a proper spanking.

Knowing just how I wanted it.

This time, I am shameless…

Shameless to admit to you and everyone, that I have fallen.

I am under the spell of this “sub-whisperer”

Finally understanding that what I have been missing is Him.

And as I spend more time with this man…this gift, I realize more and more that what I seek from my journey is more than kink.  More than a scene.

I want the full dynamic.

The 24/7.

The mundane and the erotic.

The vanilla and the kink.

The public displays of affection.

And of course…

The whispers.

His whispers…

“Faith requires following the power of a whisper.”Shannon Alder

“You know I can’t let you slide through my hands”

Father Figure

As I learn about the D/s lifestyle, I find that there many different flavors of Doms. More flavors than you’ll find at Ben and Jerry’s. Here are a few that stand out to me.
(Disclaimer: I am new to this lifestyle so if I offend anyone by not including their category, I sincerely apologize. Feel free to enlighten me with your comments)

The Sadist/Pain Dom: Aka the “cruel bastard” who wants to cause you pain. But he assures you, you will like and beg for more. Better for the experienced sub. (I have yet to work with a Pain Dom…but I imagine this would be Mr. Bond)

The Sensual Dom: He will help you test your limits in a softer, more controlled way. Utilizing sensory deprivation along with his sub’s response to stimuli, His is a path of exploration. (I would put Sir in this category when he channels his inner Dom. This is also the style of “Father D” see below)

The Bondage Dom: He uses restraint to dominate. These Dom’s have a hint of cruel bastard in them, but are really Boy Scouts at heart. They are focused on the details of the restraint and the level of restraint and they typically hand out punishment, freely. (And although I haven’t named him until now, this is Don “Knots” aka, the hog-tier)

The Daddy Dom: He is the protector. He will use his nurturing spirit to control his sub. Of all of the Dom’s out there, this one can be the most controlling. They are able to sense their sub’s vulnerabilities and always seem to save the day. It’s no wonder they are able to dominate so effectively. They are the perfect blend of discipline and reward and are very much like the Sensual Dom. (This is “Father D”)

PLEASE NOTE: There is another category of Daddy Dom. They are protectors that are exclusively into age-play. Personally, I find it a little unsettling. Not judging, just my opinion.

The Daddy Dom dynamic (those not into age play) leads me to the subject of Father D.

As I was packing for the trip to see the good doctor, I received a message from Father D on Like Marky Mark, he had messaged before. In his first message he mentioned that he was from my hometown…where I currently live. I didn’t respond because quite frankly, I prefer to outsource for this type of thing.

But you know I admire certain qualities in a Dom…persistence is high on the list.


So we messaged for a while. He was intelligent and witty. And he could spell properly.  (I am not an OCD grammar Nazi, obviously, but I enjoy a person that spells correctly) I liked him already. In our messages I told him that I was packing to go to the island to meet the shrink. He was perplexed that I was driving all that way for a vanilla date.  And I didn’t disclose the doc’s piercing, as I just didn’t find a way to bring it up.

And did I say that Father D was a former cop?  Keeps a mental register of everything. Wonder if I should name him CSI?

He said, “I am coming to the island too”

“Why?” I asked.

“In case you need me. You don’t know this guy. What if he’s psycho? Or worse, what if you have to sit through a miserable date and then stay at his place?”

Great point, little did I know it was a foreshadowing of the date.

And he said, “Whether or not the evening works out, we can meet for breakfast in the morning”


Thinking of my need to focus spiritually, I tested him and said, “Ok, but you need to find us a church to attend. I need to further my spiritual journey.”

He said, “Great! I will find us a good one and I will see you in the morning, baby girl.”

Baby Girl? That was different, but I kind of liked it.

So we met in the morning. I have punctuality issues (as you know by my other posts…it’s a reoccurring theme.  A certain person I know reading this, would call it SABOTAUGE) so we did not make it to church. But we were able to spend some considerable time getting to know one another.

He was a tall, handsome, charming man. The kind of man that hugs you with his body and soul when he hugs you and he means the hug.

Genuine. Real. Dressed for church. Dashing….

And VERY much a Dom.

I felt small in his arms. I felt protected. I felt safe. (New territory for me.  Scary territory.  Feeds my inner fear-junkie)

He was fascinating. He was well-traveled.  He was successful.

He had been in the lifestyle for many years, and lost his last sub to a car accident three years prior.

He was very clear about what he was looking for:

“I want the blend. A person that I can date in the vanilla world and dominate in the open and in the privacy of the bedroom.”

Now that’s different. I didn’t know how to respond. Most of these encounters are shrouded. They are secret. He wants to be in the open???

He said, “The best way to hide is in plain sight!”

Brilliant, I thought. Why didn’t I think about that myself?

So when it was time for me to get on the road back home to reality, he asked me to walk with him to his car. When we got inside, he pulled a Bluetooth out and handed it to me.

“It’s safer if we talk hands-free. Here’s a Bluetooth for you.”

What? For me? This protector wants nothing more than to protect his baby girl. (Motivation:  So he can spank her later, I assume? 🙂

I would normally reject this type of behavior, because in the open world I am a fierce woman who is self-sufficient. I am a Marine in my head.  I can get my own damned Bluetooth!

But Father D knew me better. He showed me how to wear the earpiece. I couldn’t make it happen (honestly folks, had you seen my hair, you would have understood, it is the beach after all.)

So he moved my hair and fixed it for me. Just like a father would. Then we tested it.

“I want to know you are safe on the road. I will call you in a few minutes, baby girl.” And then he planted a kiss on my lips and reached into my mess of a mane and pulled my hair.

Asserting his dominance. How sublime.

Hidden in the open, just like he said.

Father D is definitely on to something with that.

I’m feeling a childlike excitement about where this is going. Maybe that’s why he calls me, “baby Girl”

But I can also see a glimmer of the cruel bastard in there when he grins.

So I’ll close this post with one of my (many) guilty pleasures.  80’s music.

I will be your Father Figure

Put your tiny hand in mine

I will be your preacher/teacher

Anything you have in mind

And Father D….he’s taking me to church on Sunday.  Details to come…