Posts tagged ‘submission’

sweat

Not really sure what to write about these days. We’re still finding our footing with this runaway train of a relationship, but it’s been good so far. Word geeks that we are, New Guy and I spend an inordinate amount of time on our iPhones playing Words With Friends, even in bed. Words such as unbelted, vagina, and dom elicit giggles, if not high scores.

Where several of my previous relationships were secretive and kept from the public eye for various reasons (mostly having to do with my stupidity in actually BEING in said relationships), he and I are often running into people we know when out in public. It’s getting to be a bit of a joke how often it happens, but I can’t complain. It’s wonderful to be with someone who is proud to show me off as his chosen partner. Every time I hear one of my friends say “he’s such a nice guy” I smile and nod, not mentioning how the “nice guy” wants nothing more than to tie me up and make me scream. He often fondles the cuff on my wrist, knowing it’s just a small mark of his possession of me. He has bigger plans in mind.

Last night was a cold one, but we managed to sweat enough to soak the sheets around us. I lay on my back with him inside me and above me, his forearm across my neck, keeping me firmly in my place. Leaning in close to whisper in my ear, he gave me my orders for Friday night, including what to wear. When he tells me to say it out loud, that he is my Master and I am his slave, I always feel a flutter in my belly as I say the words. It feels amazing.

In the morning I was in the kitchen cooking up breakfast, dressed only his bathrobe. An hour before that, I’d woken to find him hard and ready for a different sort of work, which suited me fine as I was already wet just from being near him. This time I was on top, but he asserted his dominance by encircling my neck with his hands, gently and with a look of wonder in his eyes. He’s still fascinated by his new toy, and is finding different ways to make it do what he wants.

I wonder what the weekend will bring?

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wrist

Because he told me to.

The new man in my life and I have been developing our relationship at a speed most of my friends find a bit dizzying. No matter. It’s like he can read my mind sometimes, asking if I’d be willing to try something that he wants to do or see me do, as if he’d somehow crawled through my head and found the little secrets I’d stashed away in little boxes, tucked under the rubble of my day-to-day worries and concerns. He finds them, each and every one, and opens them up to see inside, then asks, “would you do this? Would you do it for me?” Yes yes yes. I would. I will. I open up to him as I never have for anyone else, and welcome the intrusion. He takes no more than I’m willing to give, and is grateful for all that I share with him.

We’re apart during the week, living in different cities in the same region. It’s a 45 minute drive (we often do it in much less, traffic permitting) from his house to mine, and we both have day jobs. Arriving at his house last Friday, I carried my things upstairs to his room, and he watched me from a few steps behind, his desire palpable. After dinner downtown, he pulled me into a shop on the main street to inspect mattresses and bed frames, looking for a frame that would allow the use of restraints. Two weeks. It’s only been two weeks and already we’re looking for beds. The weekend before we’d gone browsing for restraints, so maybe it’s not all that surprising after all.

Last week during one of our daily phone conversations, he told me had questions he wanted to ask, but only when he could see my face and how I’d react. Saturday morning as we dressed for a luncheon with friends he wanted to introduce me to, he said “I want to see you dominate another woman. Is that something you’d be interested in?” I blinked at him, slightly unsettled not by the question, but by the fact that it’s always been a huge desire of mine to do that. “Yes, absolutely,” I smiled. “Good,” he replied, showing me the 3 x 5 card he’d written the question down on a few days before. “Got anyone in mind?” he asked as I wrapped my arms around him. I laughed.

Dominance and submission seem to flow easily between us. He finds it attractive that I’m a strong, independent woman, and I find it attractive that he can call a room to order just by saying something in his assertive, deep, resonant voice. While it’s gradually developing into a Master/slave relationship, I find myself feeling more empowered than ever before. Being dominated by him, possessed by him, I can let go. I’d always had an iffy grasp of D/s thanks to previous partners who didn’t care about me as much as he does, so I didn’t think I was really all that willing to try it. Now I can’t stop wanting it. He opens every door for me, plays the gentleman in public–because he truly is a gentleman–then in private holds my wrists and makes me say it, that I want him to be my Master, and I feel a lurch of fear in giving myself away to someone, mixed with a rush like falling out of a perfectly good airplane.

Saturday afternoon we found a sturdy metal cuff bracelet for me to wear, something non-fussy, light enough not to weigh me down, but heavy and solid enough for me to know it’s there. He put it on my left wrist, giving it a little squeeze to assert his authority over me. Looking at the gold ring on my right hand, he said “I hate that ring. I can’t wait to get it off your hand.” It’s an antique that I bought for myself as soon as my divorce was final back in 1999, the same year of his own divorce. “Why?” I asked, surprised at his statement. It’s my favorite ring, the one I never take off. “Because it reminds me that someone made you so unhappy. That you’ve been alone. I want to replace it with something that shows the world you belong to me.”

He doesn’t know it yet, but I took it off this morning as I stepped into my shower. I don’t need it anymore.