Protocol

Yes, Sir. Yes, Master. Please, Sir. Thank you, Master.

Kneel
Present
Spread
Still Yourself
Beg

I love protocol. I love the beautiful side of submission. I love the kneeling, the worshiping, the rules, the expectations.

I love knowing that if I can expect the beautiful at the end of the hard, I'm willing to do just about anything to get it.

One day, someone will want to give me the beautiful and the hard... one day.

The biggest disappointment

So I've officially been released... again. I really thought this one would last. He was so good at pulling my submissive strings. But I guess He got bored... with me, with the situation... whatever. Bored enough to release me.

Boredom doesn't make any sense to me. When I read back over our conversations, think over all the things He said and did, he didn't seem bored or disinterested. But that's what He said. So what else am I gonna do?

But of all the things that this release leaves me disappointed with, the one I am probably most disappointed in is the missed opportunity to actually experience hands on domination. We were going to meet. I was finally going to be able to experience submitting physically to a strong dominant man who had captivated my mind and my submissive spirit.

I was finally going to find out how far I could be pushed, how much I could truly take. I was going to know what it was like to be under the hand of a man who knows how to break me down without breaking me into pieces. I was going to know what it would be like to not be able to charm or manipulate my way out of the hard things. I wanted that so badly.

broken...

Terrible timing... terrible circumstances... terrible whatever. The fact still remains that He asked me for every deep dark corner, convinced me to share those very scary private spaces with Him and I did. How could I not feel broken after three days with a total of 64 words spoken from Him to me. 

So much potential. So much chemistry. So much that could be.

I will keep your crazy under control.He once said to me.

He told me, I will give you six days and 20 hours of attention.

I will pull everything out of the very innermost center of your soul's core.

The worst part is that I should have known better. I should have just stayed the fuck off twitter, stayed the hell away. As if the pain of being put down two years ago wasn't lesson enough, I didn't stay away. I gave everything I had to give. And here I sit today, missing His company, checking my phone every five minutes, tissues close by to catch the tears as I feel it all starting to unravel.

Craving His instructions and stern Dominance, His control, and wishing only for more of this

Your boredom leaves me completely broken... #sixwords

Once upon a time...

There was a time in my life when I looked in the mirror and was genuinely happy with what was looking back at me. The same for when I was looking inward at the sort of person I was... I was happy with that person. I didn't require constant affirmation and approval from others because I was able to see my value, I knew my worth. I was who I was... take me or leave me... love me or hate me, it didn't matter one way or the other to me.

And I was a fun girl, a crazy girl, a happy girl full of smiles and giggles. I loved people. I found the silver lining in every rain cloud. I was able to find happiness no matter my situation. 

Somewhere along the way, that all changed. I very rarely like what I see in the mirror anymore and more times than not a hard look inside reveals dark places better left unexplored and things about myself that I can't bear to acknowledge. I get more and more anti social all the time, I get overwhelmed at the slightest set backs. I hardly ever smile. 

Somewhere along the way I lost my innocence, my joy, my engagement, my smile. All that is left in its place is a jaded girl full of doubt and disappointment with a sort of half smile on her face who needs constant reassurance that she is good enough, that she is worthy. Constant affirmation that she is wanted, that she is pretty, that her size doesn't matter... 

I do not like this jaded version of myself. I don't know what broke me... I don't know how to fix it... Some days I manage it better than others. Some days it runs me over completely... every once in a while I catch a glimpse of the girl I used to be... I miss her. 

dreaming

I dreamt of Him last night. I could feel His weight settle over me, His fingers burning traces over my skin, His lips covering mine in a kiss that left no doubt of who I belonged to and just how much He wanted me.

His mouth traveled down my neck in nips and nibbles and stopped hotly over my left nipple. Flicking it with His tongue, my back arching a little, lips parting as a moan slipped from between them. My hands bound behind my back craving to touch His skin, to dig my nails into His flesh. He took my nipple into His mouth, suckling at it, scraping with His teeth, biting the tender flesh, tugging at the silver ring until my moans became cries. His hand traced lightly over my pussy lips, teasing with every stroke of His tongue on my nipple.

I asked to cum. His mouth stilled, I felt the shock of cool air on my nipple when He lifted His head. I opened my eyes to find His face just inches from mine, a lusty glint in His eye and an evil smirk on His lips. He brought His mouth to mine again, pulling my lip between His teeth and biting until I squirmed and whimpered. His hand came down hard on my pussy lips. My body bucked and my  lip was torn from His teeth. I cried out, breathless.

He grinned as He felt my body begin to relax and then He smacked my pussy again. Harder. My feet in restraints, tied tightly to the end of the bed, jerked trying to come together to protect myself. I cried out, again and again He just grinned. I felt His mouth on my nipple again. Sucking painfully hard and again a slap to my pussy. My breath ragged, my body shuddering I felt the splash of wetness on my thighs as His hand came against my pussy lips again.

His mouth slowed, His fingers tracing teasing circles against my aching, wet pussy lips. He kissed me again, my body relaxed into Him as I hungrily returned His kiss. I felt His skin against my nipple and His fingers teasing my pussy. I begged Him to cum, my whispered pleas landing on His tongue. "Will you suffer for me, slut?" He moaned against my mouth and without warning He slid His fingers deep inside me, wetness gushing against the force of His hands. His other hand behind my head, I felt His fist tighten in my hair as my head was pulled forcefully backwards. Thrashing against His fingers' assault on my pussy, begging over and over to cum, dangerously close to cumming without permission. As quickly as the assault started He stopped. His fingers removed abruptly, leaving my pussy convulsing. I cried out in frustration, my feet kicking defiantly and felt tears form behind my eyelids.

His fingers on my pussy lips again. I felt Him pull them open, felt the cool air from the fan blowing against the heated skin, felt my hole contracting with need. I whimpered, my head still held back tightly in His other hand.

He kissed me again. A deep, hungry kiss. His mouth moved from my mouth to my earlobe. He bit my earlobe hard enough to cause me to cry out and try to pull my head away. I felt His breath hot on my neck, heard Him chuckle quietly at my feeble attempts to deny Him anything. Felt His fingers on my pussy lips, spreading them open but not touching my clit or my hole... my hips thrusting, wriggling, trying to get His fingers on the sensitive places but He was having none of it. His hands stayed steady, holding me open, exposed.

"Cum for me, my lil whore," He growled in my ear and bit down again on my earlobe. My entire body exploded with sensation as my pussy... His pussy... did exactly what He told it to. I came for Him. I squirted for Him. I bucked and writhed and begged for Him.

Disciplined

I am not disciplined. I never have been and the condition has been made worse in the last three years since I've haven't had a regular job. I just sort of do what I want, when I want. If I want to spend all day in my pjs, I do. Want to go to the gym, ok... don't want to go, ok.


I will forsake all my responsibilities and commitments to stay just one more minute with my phone in my hand tethered to Him at the other end.

I need Him to provide the structure. To know where I will jeopardize areas of my life to do His will and NOT allow me to do so. I need Him to recognize this weakness and work to help me correct it. 

The balance

A writing found on Fetlife:

She's my submissive, but I love to hold doors open for her.
I flog, cane and torture her for my enjoyment, but I love taking her out to dinner.
I fuck her like a whore whenever and however I like, but I love to buy her pretty things and remind her how special she is to me.
I'm a gentleman, because it gives me pleasure to be a gentleman, it gives me pleasure to make her feel good about herself, it gives me pleasure to dote on the one I care about. And when she smiles and hugs me or drops to her knees just because she's happy to be near me, I know I'm doing things right.
I can be romantic without compromising my authority because my babygirl has learned not to mistake kindness for weakness. Treating her like a lady when I feel like doing so builds her respect for her Sir rather than diminishes it.
She's mine to do with as I please, and sometimes what pleases me most is kissing her hand, asking her how her day was, and whenever I can, holding the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is a balance that the author captures in this writing. A balance that I believe is so incredibly vital to any D/s relationship. The balance between romance and Domination that can be maintained even across the miles.

I will want to do every difficult thing He will want me to do. I will crave the hard things, the mind fuck, the absolute Domination of my inner demons.

He will stretch my boundaries, mentally and physically... creating scenarios that I might consider almost hard limits and creating a head space for me to consider those very same situations something to look forward too.

  The situations will be hard, trying, demanding. They are going to be challenging mentally, physically and emotionally. I expect that He will put me through the ringer and push me harder than I've ever been pushed. I will be exhausted, broken, and completely emptied when He gets done with me.

Some of the situations, I won't be able to wait to experience but there are some thoughts and ideas that I will be more than a little terrified of.

But even as much as it scares me, I will want to suffer for Him. I will want to cry and scream and hurt for Him. I will want to take everything He wants to give.

While some of the more intense things aren't going to be things that happen during our early playtimes, I know that the fear and anxiety I feel will not hold me back from doing anything He wants me to do, anything He expects of me. We may just have to work up to a few things.

But, I know that I can do anything He wants of me, because He will bring the balance to every experience. I know that when I have done the things He demands of me, when I have given Him everything I have to give, that He will balance that by giving of Himself to me.

At the end of the hard things, when I am spent, pushed past my breaking point, after the humiliation, the beatings, the torment, when He's broken me and there is nothing left in me except the pure, raw response to Him... When He is done, after He has had His way... He will remind me that I am His, I am His good girl, His little whore. He will remind me that even with mascara running down my cheeks, my hair a complete mess, welts rising on my skin... He will remind me that this when I am most beautiful to Him. He will help me to remember that He is as addicted to me as I am to Him.

The balance during play time is important, but I think it is the balance that happens in our day to day, that is the most vital. Even across the miles this balance plays such an important part in a developing D/s.

There will be moments when He pushes me. Sometimes it will be mentally, helping me to consider certain situations... to put myself in them, under His hand and experience them. Sometimes it will be physically, doing things that make me uncomfortable or that are physically demanding... not wearing panties, "showing" Him certain things, cumming over and over and over and over, or edging to madness... the list goes on and on.

But then there will be times when I ask to sit quietly at His feet and He will let me.

Moments when He will pull me into His lap and strokes my hair, petting me.

There will be times when He reminds me with His words, with His careful attentions that He adores me, that I am His cherished whore (that word is a whole journal post by itself). 

There will be times when He will allow me to kneel for Him. He will know that kneeling for Him settles me, centers me, brings peace to my soul and when I so desperately need that He will bring me to my place... on my knees, between His feet, under His hand. 

And times when He will welcome me  to wrap myself around His feet and rest.

Moments when He will seem to know that I just need Him... and He will give that to me.

It is a delicious balance between the sadistic and the tender... and there will be so much for us to experience together.