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…”