Nothing's perfect...but Friday wasn't quite the day I'd hoped it would be. Sir was disappointed about not spending daytime with me, the doctor's appointment was really just a waste of time (we watched a video, for pity's sake!), and despite my nap, I was feeling behind the ball on everything. Because of the shortened time together, Sir decided we'd skip going out for supper (my birthday present to him) in favor of my bringing a homemade pizza over. I got to Sir's house just after 7 pm, and the pizza was still hot. At least that was going right...
I served up dinner and we ate together on the couch. I knew there were “things in store” for me, but I didn't know what, and that made it really hard to relax. I kept wondering if I should ask about sitting on the couch, or what my station was. Sometimes I think that the emotional poly-side conflicts a lot with the D/s-side of the relationship. Perhaps I should ask for clearer communication. I run into trouble with Beloved over this too. How does this work? Am I supposed to be submissive all the time, and if so, how can things remain fun?
When we were done eating, I was asked to wash up the dishes, make up the bed, and fix the cushions on the couch. All three small service tasks that shouldn't have been an issue but added to my anxiety. I tried very hard to keep that to myself...Show some trust and faith, and not demand to know what's coming next. It's a very hard challenge for me.
When I was done with the tasks, Sir instructed me to undress in the bedroom, lay out my toys, and return to him...and to crawl while I once I reached the carpet. Did Sir hear my internal growl at that command? Again, I found myself asking for patience, for endurance, for grace in the moments before I re-entered the scene.
Sir sent me crawling after cuffs, and would have sent me crawling again for a gag if I owned one. Instead he sorted through his collection and brought out a ball gag. I've never liked the look of them, and now I know I'm not particularly fond of them from personal experience... Sir scolded me for caressing his foot when he rested it on my thigh, and scolded me again for retrieving a cuff he dropped. I felt cold and alone and so removed from him. Does it have to be that way? Do Dominants have to steel themselves the way I steel myself for a scene? Do any other submissives?
Then Sir presented me with my own collar...black leather with tiny red embossed hearts on it...I'd known was going to get one, but how does a girl accept such a token? Especially when I'd just been chastised for touching him...??? Sir led me to the bathroom (walking) so he could show it to me in the mirror. He let me reach out for him, kiss him...but it felt...awkward...to be “allowed” to do something so natural to me... He told me to wash the gag and return to him, and he was irritated at my hesitation...I stepped out of the bathroom, onto the carpet...but was I suppose to crawl again? He corrected me (yes, I was), but seemed impatient with my denseness. By the time that I was in position with my hands on the tote, legs spread, I was already flagging in my spirit.
Sir's instruction was simple: Do not lift a hand or a foot.
I imagined myself to be stone...forever bonded with the surface, immovable. Later, he assured me he could have changed that, had he wanted to, had there been time and no restrictions on the physical beating. It angers and frustrates me that I believe him...that I am doomed to “failure” if he so choose that to be the desired path.
He kissed my skin, ran his hands over me, spanked me a few time...paddled me a few times...flogged me a few times. Nothing particularly challenging to me...indeed, I felt he was really just teasing me physically. But his words were destroying me.
I can't quote directly, but he was very pointed about how “nice” girls wouldn't allow themselves to be cuffed and displayed naked for someone other than their husband...”nice” girls wouldn't be such sluts. That I would in fact fuck anyone if told...the carpet cleaner, perhaps?
I was crying and hated myself for not being made of sterner stuff. Was I such a baby? Did Sir think I couldn't take the physical hurt? I wanted to close him out, to harden myself, to give him something to conquer...and already I was a teary-eyed, snotty wimp. His fingers sought out wetness in my pussy and teased more...he emphased his point by telling me to fuck his fingers. Registering the command was not easy, and acting on it was horrible...I hated Sir.
He left, and when he returned, the *swoosh* was all I needed to know. I tried to prepare for the cane, but he simply said, “Remember, your Master said yes.” My world crumbled. Honestly, I only felt one blow land...I was lost in the spiral of worthlessness.
Did Sir know that was all it would take? Was everything so perfectly planned that the three caning blows landed and that was the end? He pulled me into his arms, whispering that it was okay...I wanted to scream at him that of course it was...my body didn't hurt...and yet the only thought I could put real words to was I hadn't moved. Damn it, I didn't fail...Sir told me not to move and I hadn't!
He must have SAID something about going to the bedroom because there was a moment of agony..was I supposed to crawl?!? I didn't know, and let him take my hand and lead me. He cuddled me and reassured me...
When Sir grabbed my hair and told me to choose which plug was going in my ass...I thought we were done! Even now, writing, I grit my teeth... It's not so much that it wasn't over...it's how...thorough?...Sir is. I asked him to take me into the dark...I never imagined he would make me choose, over and over and over, to follow him willingly. I begged for him to, to let it be something done to me...don't make me admit that I asked and in fact want this...You choose...please...gods, don't DO this to me...
So I chose the largest plug, the one he selected last time...the one that *might* impress him just the tiniest bit. I'm still grateful that he is gentle and prepares me...I'm still embarrassed and relieved that I can bury my face in the blankets as he does so...
He finger-fucked me then, hard, soft, drawing me to orgasm, accepting my small climax and held me close. Then it was my turn to undress him, to teased and pleasure and enjoy the sensations I am solely responsible for. We went back and forth for the next several hours, talking, teasing, talking, teasing.
I'm glad I was a part of your birthday, Sir. I hope you enjoyed it.
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