Posts tagged ‘belonging’

Toot-toot-tootsie

He quite enjoyed my feet today, I think. Or should I say his feet?

 

He tickled them and kissed them, but he also bit them. He bit my toes, hard. It was quite the contrast to the sensations that went before. No one has ever bitten the pads of my big toes. I loved it but I’m not sure why.

 

The more he indulges his fetish the more turned on I am by it, the more I want. There is something very hot about laying there, my feet on his chest, his hands running along my legs, his lips against my instep, his teeth sinking into them. There is something lovely about their being His, about my being His. I feel very much His when he plays with my feet. I wonder why this is? I wonder why I feel so completely His when he is enjoying my feet.

 

I just took a look at said feet. They aren’t as good a shape as they should have been for him. I haven’t been religiously putting lotion on them like I should to keep the soft and pink for him. This prompted a little fantasy though…

 

… his taking me to have my feet done and when they are done, and my feet or all pink and soft and fresh like a baby’s he carries me out so that no shoes go on them to mar their perfection, no ground to sully them… and then….and then he takes me and he lays me down and has His feet, His feet all pink and clean and soft, His feet to kiss, His feet to beat on and bite, He feet to fuck, all soft and pink and tender.

 

 

Gone Daddy Gone

That sucking sound you hear is the sound of the vacuum left by his absence. It’s the sound of those feeling of warmth and belonging, of being loved, needed and wanted pulling away. It’s the sound of cold empty black space taking its’ place.

Meh… I’m in a funk ignore me. This first day is always the worst.

I know he’s still there.
I know nothing’s changed.
I know it’s all just my head.
I know it will go away.

Most of all I know he will return to scoop me up, put me on his lap and wrap his big warm strong arms around me. … and then after that I’ll get that beating I’ve been wanting for a couple of weeks. Hmm… and I’ll probably get that punishment too … pffttt.

Missing

He hasn’t even left and I miss him already.

He leaves Wednesday for eleven days. I was suppose to see him today but out of all the days we’ve had in the past eight years it has to snow yesterday. We don’t get much snow “in these parts”… as a result businesses and schools were closed and so our plans completely FUCKED! What about tomorrow you say? BIG BIG maybe. I’ll hope but I won’t count on it. Why set myself up for disappointment.

He’s left me in A’s care. Who is A you ask and why have I been left in her care? 

A is a very dear friend of mine. I believe I’m mentioned the potential for her to join our play before. No? Well she finally did and it turns out little Miss Vanilla… isn’t so vanilla. She’s got budding Domme in her. So he is leaving me in her care. He’s given her directions and three tasks but beyond that I am hers for the eleven days. 

This should be interesting no?  I am definitely looking forward to this. I wonder what he has up his sleeve and what he’s put up hers and why.  I wonder if there is a rhyme or reason to his tasks? Lessons for me to learn or experiences to bring out her fledgling Domme. Or maybe they were just chosen for his pleasure alone in knowing what is going on.

BUT while I am looking forward to it she’s just not him. It’s not that I don’t love her. I do! I trust her and love her completely. And I trust him and love him completely. I know he would not give her a task that was beyond her at the moment. I know he would not put me in danger or put our friendship in danger. But she’s just not him.

Ok, I know that sounds really simplistic and fundemental…. that’s because it is.

I love my Daddy, my Maitre, my friend, my lover… I love his voice, his hand around my throat, his sweet caress of my cheek. I love his lap. I love my hand lost in his. I love the soft sounds of his accent. I love his bald head…especially with a day or two’s worth of growth on it.

I’m looking forward to what he wants of she and I? But I hate that he is going away.

At Peace

I’ve felt strangely at peace the past few days. It’s most unlike me. Our time together on Wednesday was wonderful. Usually after an especially emotionally fulfilling time I just crave him all the more.  But this time while I still long for him. I am quiet inside. It’s very nice.

 We both agree it ran the gamut and was long, long over due. There are moments that I have revisited again and again, that are sustaining. And while I love our violence and those moment are cathartic and clear my head they weren’t the sustaining ones. 

I think the ones that have sustained me are those in which I felt claimed again. Those moments in which he pulled me into him with his eyes, with his breath, with his being. I told him that I feel most connected to him when we play but that isn’t completely accurate. What is more accurate is that I feel most connected to him during these quiet moments of intensity that are facilitated by our “play”.  I think the pain, the violence and the accepting of his will so immediately and intensely strips away what walls are between us. The play strips away the everyday facade we all carry with us, leaving us both bare and raw to one another.  I think it is in those moments of complete exposure, those moments that are without words but filled with communication, that I we are most connected. It is in those moments that I don’t feel so isolated and alone in the universe. It is in those moments that I truly feel my soul has touch the soul of another. 

I find the exchange of breath to be particularly powerful. When we are close, face to face, nose to nose, lips barely touching, his eyes locked on mine and our breath moves between us, his to mine, mine to his…  these moments I am lost in him, utterly and completely. 

 We had one other especially intense moment Wednesday. A completely (I think), spontaneous moment. I was in the shower getting cleaned up when he pulls the curtain back and  steps half way in. He is kissing me, and then he is marking me, I can feel his hot urine running down my body. I am lost in his kiss. I am lost in him. And when we seperate once again, I find that I don’t want to wash him off, that if I could I would have stayed in that moment.  I knew that if I ever truly felt disconnected from him I didn’t in that moment and know that I will once again feel my submission to him deep in my soul.  You see, it’s not that water sports are a huge kink for me, it wasn’t his water itself but the intimacy. It was his will and my completely willing, completely unconscious submission to his will.

Collars

I want mine. 

I don’t mean that to nag, and I don’t mean it to pressure and I certainly don’t mean to be disrespectful… I’m saying it because I want you to know that it is important to me and I’m putting it here instead of in an email because I want the whole world to know your “collar”, your claiming me, being yours, is very, very important to me. 

Having gotten that out of me, I can and will wait patiently until the planets align and you can make it happen. I just want you to know how very much it means to me.

 

Addendum: to outsiders please know that any expression of ‘want’ should never be read as a demand but as an expression of longing and desire. He knows that I sit at his feet, no matter where I am.

Tears

 I cried today. I cried tears of intensity, tears of belonging and tears of love. Today, I felt in my core, in my soul that I am his. It washed over me claiming me as his.

I lay in the warm embrace of his arms sobbing, his sweet wisper in my ear telling me it was ok. The sweet man thought my tears were for another but for the very first time they were his tears. For the very first time I cried for him.

I wrote it off to endorphins at the time. But here I sit hours later and I still feel it. Something changed today for me. I’m not sure what and I’m not sure why but it has.