Sunday, August 24, 2008
Breakable
Sometimes, I need Him to strike me, to crack me, to break me open. I need Him to flay away that outer shell and reveal what's hidden inside. To let me out, free me, release me.
Other times, I need Him to hold me and stroke me. To wrap Himself around me and hold me together. To keep me from shattering into a million pieces.
He always knows whether He needs to pull the pieces apart or hold them all together. He knows when I'm tough and He knows when I'm fragile.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
cock worship
I was 16 years old when I lost my virginity. I was in a relation-ship, but it was not out of love or lust. I made the decision that I no longer wanted to be a virgin. I am not sure why, other than I no longer wanted to be bothered by the burden of "should I or shouldn't I." It was a pleasant experience, he was caring, gentle, and (though he was pretty inexperienced too) was way more knowledgeable than I was. I did not know what to expect, it hurt (briefly) but that turned me on even more. (I guess a little bit of pain is what I have always desired.) I remember it always with fondness.
I was extremely naive. I wanted to have sex, I wanted to please my partners, but I was pretty limited. I remember when the same boy mentioned oral sex to me. I do not know what I said, but something along the lines of, "people actually do that?" Needless to say, after my response, we didn't do that. I was not revolted by the idea, just totally clueless. A year later, I was seeing someone else, he was older and more experienced. We had gone to the movies (Shampoo, with Warren Beatty), and there had been a scene at a dinner party were Julie Christie sucked his cock under the table. Later, that evening, we were on the couch in my parent's living room and he referred to the scene. He asked me to do "that," I did and the rest is history. I have always enjoyed sucking cock. It makes me feel servile, sexy, and a bit of a tease.
I have never loved it as much as I do with J. With Him, it is more than a sex act, it is spiritual. It is an act of worship. I not only love it, I fantasize about it, I dream about it, I need it. I love the way His cock feels in my mouth. It is hard and smooth and the perfect size. I love how it fills my mouth, how it hits the back of my throat. I love running my tongue over it, exploring it, memorizing it. I love how it smells and how it tastes. I love sucking hard on the head and then sliding my mouth down to the base where I am nuzzled against Him. I love when He fucks my mouth, thrusting into me, into my throat, making me gag. I love when He wraps His hand in my hair, holding me while I take all of Him. I love when He cums. Feeling His balls tighten, sensing the urgency, flooding my mouth, sucking and swallowing His gift to me. Each drop is precious and valuable. It sustains me, it affirms me, I crave it from Him.
I was extremely naive. I wanted to have sex, I wanted to please my partners, but I was pretty limited. I remember when the same boy mentioned oral sex to me. I do not know what I said, but something along the lines of, "people actually do that?" Needless to say, after my response, we didn't do that. I was not revolted by the idea, just totally clueless. A year later, I was seeing someone else, he was older and more experienced. We had gone to the movies (Shampoo, with Warren Beatty), and there had been a scene at a dinner party were Julie Christie sucked his cock under the table. Later, that evening, we were on the couch in my parent's living room and he referred to the scene. He asked me to do "that," I did and the rest is history. I have always enjoyed sucking cock. It makes me feel servile, sexy, and a bit of a tease.
I have never loved it as much as I do with J. With Him, it is more than a sex act, it is spiritual. It is an act of worship. I not only love it, I fantasize about it, I dream about it, I need it. I love the way His cock feels in my mouth. It is hard and smooth and the perfect size. I love how it fills my mouth, how it hits the back of my throat. I love running my tongue over it, exploring it, memorizing it. I love how it smells and how it tastes. I love sucking hard on the head and then sliding my mouth down to the base where I am nuzzled against Him. I love when He fucks my mouth, thrusting into me, into my throat, making me gag. I love when He wraps His hand in my hair, holding me while I take all of Him. I love when He cums. Feeling His balls tighten, sensing the urgency, flooding my mouth, sucking and swallowing His gift to me. Each drop is precious and valuable. It sustains me, it affirms me, I crave it from Him.
My reserved and private self, is now desiring to suck His cock, everywhere. I have already done this in the hallway of a hotel, on the deck at my house and now on this blog. I want more, I want this in elevators, in parks, in corridors, in museums and yes, under the table at a dinner party. No, I don't want to be caught, but I do want to publicly worship Him. I want to be His adoring pet, His lustful slut. I want to be His devoted disciple, His surrendered submissive. I want to be His cock whore.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Thursday's Question #48: Marks
Luna asked:
How do you feel about marks left from play? What are your favorite/least favorite marks?
I absolutely love the marks He leaves on me. I love having them as a reminder of the time we spent together. I have read some discussions on how to prevent and minimize bruising, I have never understood it. I would be more inclined to ask how to maximize bruising and keep them from fading so quickly. I like looking at them after He is gone, I like noticing bruises that I did not expect, I like feeling the tenderness when I move or sit. I always thought that I would like to be marked, but not too severely. Now, I fantasize about having welts and bruises and stripes. I do not desire to be cut or whipped til I bleed, but deep, well-pronounced bruises turn me on. I think that my desire for marks has increased my desire and tolerance for pain. Often, when we play, I wonder what type of marks will be left. I think about the type of marks different implements will leave. I am desiring a wooden paddle, because I think that it would leave more bruising. Besides having marks remind me of our play, I feel like they are His signature on me. Something He has put on me to show that I belong to Him. A physical reminder that He leaves on me to signify my surrender to Him. An outward reflection of the hold that He has on my mind.
I can't think of any marks that I would not like, other than ones I could not conceal for work. My favorites have been the first marks He left on me. The first time we played I bruised. In fact, though the play wasn't as severe, the bruising was more prominent than many times since. I also love the marks left by the cane, stripes and welts in a row or criss-crossed. The nicest surprises though, are His bite marks on me. I never expect them. When He bites me, I don't think about bruising. Then the next day, when I am dressing or showering I notice His bite marks on my breasts and the inside of my thighs. Nice round bruises that are quite dark and are very personal. I always smile when I discover them. His marks have a deep psychological impact on me, they are very satisfying to me. They reinforce the afterglow, the feeling of contentment that I get from being with Him.
Questions from BDSM is Love, Luna's Thursday Question.
How do you feel about marks left from play? What are your favorite/least favorite marks?
I absolutely love the marks He leaves on me. I love having them as a reminder of the time we spent together. I have read some discussions on how to prevent and minimize bruising, I have never understood it. I would be more inclined to ask how to maximize bruising and keep them from fading so quickly. I like looking at them after He is gone, I like noticing bruises that I did not expect, I like feeling the tenderness when I move or sit. I always thought that I would like to be marked, but not too severely. Now, I fantasize about having welts and bruises and stripes. I do not desire to be cut or whipped til I bleed, but deep, well-pronounced bruises turn me on. I think that my desire for marks has increased my desire and tolerance for pain. Often, when we play, I wonder what type of marks will be left. I think about the type of marks different implements will leave. I am desiring a wooden paddle, because I think that it would leave more bruising. Besides having marks remind me of our play, I feel like they are His signature on me. Something He has put on me to show that I belong to Him. A physical reminder that He leaves on me to signify my surrender to Him. An outward reflection of the hold that He has on my mind.
I can't think of any marks that I would not like, other than ones I could not conceal for work. My favorites have been the first marks He left on me. The first time we played I bruised. In fact, though the play wasn't as severe, the bruising was more prominent than many times since. I also love the marks left by the cane, stripes and welts in a row or criss-crossed. The nicest surprises though, are His bite marks on me. I never expect them. When He bites me, I don't think about bruising. Then the next day, when I am dressing or showering I notice His bite marks on my breasts and the inside of my thighs. Nice round bruises that are quite dark and are very personal. I always smile when I discover them. His marks have a deep psychological impact on me, they are very satisfying to me. They reinforce the afterglow, the feeling of contentment that I get from being with Him.
Questions from BDSM is Love, Luna's Thursday Question.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Unending Love
I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times...
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,
That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in many forms,
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, it's age old pain,
It's ancient tale of being apart or together.
As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,
Clad in the light of a polestar, piercing the darkness of time.
You become an image of what is remembered forever.
You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount.
At the heart of time, love of one for another.
We have played alongside millions of lovers,
Shared in the same shy sweetness of meeting,
The distressful tears of farewell,
Old love, but in shapes that renew and renew forever.
~Rabindranath Tagore
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,
That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in many forms,
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, it's age old pain,
It's ancient tale of being apart or together.
As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,
Clad in the light of a polestar, piercing the darkness of time.
You become an image of what is remembered forever.
You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount.
At the heart of time, love of one for another.
We have played alongside millions of lovers,
Shared in the same shy sweetness of meeting,
The distressful tears of farewell,
Old love, but in shapes that renew and renew forever.
~Rabindranath Tagore
Monday, August 18, 2008
Google meme
When I started this blog, I did a search for blogs with Alice or Wonderland. I was actually trying to look at other related templates. I came across a 17 year old blogger in the UK, who happened to have written an Alice inspired post. I have kept reading her blog because she is a very talented photographer and is refreshingly honest in her posts. It is good to sometimes be reminded of the teenage drama and angst that we all experienced. I always feel a bit guilty, like I am her mother reading her diary.
Anyway, she had this little game (which I am choosing to call a meme) posted on her blog and I thought it would be fun. Oh, to be 17 again - NOT. Just for the record, I used my real name in the search, but I am replacing it with Alice here.
Type the following into Google and choose from the first page...
1: Type in "[your name] needs" in Google search:
Alice needs to be spanked!!!
She certainly does.
2: Type in "[your name] looks like" in Google search:
Alice looks like she is done laying her eggs for the year.
I bloody well hope so.
3: Type in "[your name] does" in Google search:
Alice does a nude photo shoot with Allure?
Shhh, it hasn't been released yet.
4: Type in "[your name] hates" in Google search:
Alice hates spiders more than I do.
arachnophobia anyone?
5: Type in "[your name] goes" or "...has gone" in Google search:
Alice goes underground.
If I am missing for awhile, you will know where I am.
6: Type in "[your name] loves" in Google search:
Alice loves books.
yes, yes I do.
7: Type in "[your name] eats" in Google search:
Alice eats shit.
I hate having to eat one's own words.
8: Type in "[your name] has" in Google search:
Alice has 5 boards of equal length.
Guess I'll have to make that spanking bench.
9: Type in "[your name] works" in Google search:
Alice works one-on-one with management.
Now would be a good time to ask for that raise.
10: Type in "[your name] lives" in Google search:
Alice lives a poetic life in San Diego with two cats and a bougainvillea.
Don't tell the dogs!
11: Type in "[your name] died" in Google search:
Alice died after the police waved on the lorry carrying the calves, despite the fact that protesters were still occupying the road.
What an absolutely tragic end.
12: Type in "[your name] will" in Google search:
Alice will go to the Grammy's with that gorgeous guy from the movies.
Ok, ok, it's Sean Connery, now quit asking.
Gee, that was rather fun pretending to be 17 again. I really didn't think the Google thing would work that well. Don't worry, more grown-up posts coming soon.
Anyway, she had this little game (which I am choosing to call a meme) posted on her blog and I thought it would be fun. Oh, to be 17 again - NOT. Just for the record, I used my real name in the search, but I am replacing it with Alice here.
Type the following into Google and choose from the first page...
1: Type in "[your name] needs" in Google search:
Alice needs to be spanked!!!
She certainly does.
2: Type in "[your name] looks like" in Google search:
Alice looks like she is done laying her eggs for the year.
I bloody well hope so.
3: Type in "[your name] does" in Google search:
Alice does a nude photo shoot with Allure?
Shhh, it hasn't been released yet.
4: Type in "[your name] hates" in Google search:
Alice hates spiders more than I do.
arachnophobia anyone?
5: Type in "[your name] goes" or "...has gone" in Google search:
Alice goes underground.
If I am missing for awhile, you will know where I am.
6: Type in "[your name] loves" in Google search:
Alice loves books.
yes, yes I do.
7: Type in "[your name] eats" in Google search:
Alice eats shit.
I hate having to eat one's own words.
8: Type in "[your name] has" in Google search:
Alice has 5 boards of equal length.
Guess I'll have to make that spanking bench.
9: Type in "[your name] works" in Google search:
Alice works one-on-one with management.
Now would be a good time to ask for that raise.
10: Type in "[your name] lives" in Google search:
Alice lives a poetic life in San Diego with two cats and a bougainvillea.
Don't tell the dogs!
11: Type in "[your name] died" in Google search:
Alice died after the police waved on the lorry carrying the calves, despite the fact that protesters were still occupying the road.
What an absolutely tragic end.
12: Type in "[your name] will" in Google search:
Alice will go to the Grammy's with that gorgeous guy from the movies.
Ok, ok, it's Sean Connery, now quit asking.
Gee, that was rather fun pretending to be 17 again. I really didn't think the Google thing would work that well. Don't worry, more grown-up posts coming soon.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Weighing the Risk
Everything's got a moral, if only you can find it. ~ The Duchess
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
I visited Shannee's blog today, it confirmed to me something I have been noticing. There has been a lot of pain and sadness among many of my favorite bloggers. I have been tempted to post on this before, but I was unsure what to write. I did not really want to go there. The more I read, however, the more I must comment. Pixiepie has been dealing with a debilitating and dangerous illness and now the loss of Richard. Oatmeal Girl is coming to terms with the loss of the Philosopher. I read of others' pain in searching for someone to give their submission to and continually being disappointed. I empathize with all of them, I sympathize, I know what it is to lose a relationship, to be hurt or betrayed by someone you love. It also makes me realize how blessed I am. It does not make me question my trust in Him, it makes me realize that you have to take it where you find it. Something special does not come along everyday, when it does, you have to take the risk. The more you give, the more you love, the greater the risk. The dynamic of a D/s relationship elevates that risk even more, but also makes it worth that risk.
For years, I would not take that risk, I did not find anyone who was worth that risk. I had been hurt, I was never going to be hurt again. But sometimes, it is worth the risk. Sometimes it is so special and so right, that the journey, the discovery, the sharing, is worth any pain that it might bring. I had a plan, my plan was to not become involved, certainly not to fall in love. The universe had a different plan. I met someone who has surely known me forever. Someone who knew me so deeply and intimately, that we had to have loved in a past life. I discovered that I had to submit to Him, and that I could not completely surrender without loving Him. By being the man that He is, He made me love Him.
Don't misunderstand me, my love does not come with strings attached. There are limitations between us, I accept those. There are limits on the time we can share, I accept that as well. What is not limited is my trust in Him and my honesty with Him. My love and desire for Him are also unlimited. I am His, for as long as He wants and needs me, I am His. I do not know when or if this will ever end. Should that occur, I will hurt, I will have lost part of myself, but I will have gained so much more than I could ever lose. And my love for Him will never be lost. He has resurrected a part of me that I thought was lost forever, He gave me back my ability to love. Loving Him has been easy and joyful. He is the most exceptional person that I have ever known. With all the pain and horror and treachery in the world, sometimes you just have to let go with abandon and embrace what is good in your life. I have many good things in my life, but He is certainly one of the best things in my life. I have no regrets, in fact I am eternally thankful for all that He is and all that He gives to me. I hope that I never give Him one moment's regret, I hope I am always a source of joy to Him.
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
I visited Shannee's blog today, it confirmed to me something I have been noticing. There has been a lot of pain and sadness among many of my favorite bloggers. I have been tempted to post on this before, but I was unsure what to write. I did not really want to go there. The more I read, however, the more I must comment. Pixiepie has been dealing with a debilitating and dangerous illness and now the loss of Richard. Oatmeal Girl is coming to terms with the loss of the Philosopher. I read of others' pain in searching for someone to give their submission to and continually being disappointed. I empathize with all of them, I sympathize, I know what it is to lose a relationship, to be hurt or betrayed by someone you love. It also makes me realize how blessed I am. It does not make me question my trust in Him, it makes me realize that you have to take it where you find it. Something special does not come along everyday, when it does, you have to take the risk. The more you give, the more you love, the greater the risk. The dynamic of a D/s relationship elevates that risk even more, but also makes it worth that risk.
For years, I would not take that risk, I did not find anyone who was worth that risk. I had been hurt, I was never going to be hurt again. But sometimes, it is worth the risk. Sometimes it is so special and so right, that the journey, the discovery, the sharing, is worth any pain that it might bring. I had a plan, my plan was to not become involved, certainly not to fall in love. The universe had a different plan. I met someone who has surely known me forever. Someone who knew me so deeply and intimately, that we had to have loved in a past life. I discovered that I had to submit to Him, and that I could not completely surrender without loving Him. By being the man that He is, He made me love Him.
Don't misunderstand me, my love does not come with strings attached. There are limitations between us, I accept those. There are limits on the time we can share, I accept that as well. What is not limited is my trust in Him and my honesty with Him. My love and desire for Him are also unlimited. I am His, for as long as He wants and needs me, I am His. I do not know when or if this will ever end. Should that occur, I will hurt, I will have lost part of myself, but I will have gained so much more than I could ever lose. And my love for Him will never be lost. He has resurrected a part of me that I thought was lost forever, He gave me back my ability to love. Loving Him has been easy and joyful. He is the most exceptional person that I have ever known. With all the pain and horror and treachery in the world, sometimes you just have to let go with abandon and embrace what is good in your life. I have many good things in my life, but He is certainly one of the best things in my life. I have no regrets, in fact I am eternally thankful for all that He is and all that He gives to me. I hope that I never give Him one moment's regret, I hope I am always a source of joy to Him.
Content
His visit here this week has taken me from restless to content. Though He is gone now and distance separates us again, I still feel wrapped in His arms. I am awash in His presence, I feel Him all around me. Not restrictively so, but reassuringly so, I am swaddled by His essence. I am the same as when we met, yet I am completely different. He has shaped me, He has made me His. He is everything that I need and want. No other man could ever complete me, satisfy me, or own me as He does. I have been feeling very owned lately, my mindset is continually evolving. When we started, I did not understand a Master/slave dynamic. I did not understand being owned. We do not incorporate a M/s dynamic, but I have come to understand it. I also believe that it is a matter of semantics, what we have in our relationship is not far off of what many others refer to as M/s. I am His, I belong to Him. That is my choice, I am free to withdraw my submission at any time. Yet, I am not free, I could not do it, I am owned. I need Him, I need to surrender myself to Him. That need grows within me more each day. He has changed me.
In my mind, I am bound to Him. In my heart, I revere Him. In our interactions, He sanctifies me. I do not wear a collar, but psychologically and spiritually, I am His possession. He realizes, better than I do, what I need and desire. He is better able to please me and sate those desires than I am myself. I have realized that He is all that I need. He gives me everything that I could ever want. He is my fantasy and my desire and nothing else matters. He is my guide, my leader, my security, my sanctuary. This has never been more apparent to me than it was this week.
I am completely His. When we are together, I bask in His presence. I am His pet, I am cherished and cared for. Tuesday, when He was here, I sat at His feet. My head was in His lap and He was stroking my hair and my neck. I have never felt more content or fulfilled. His touches are magic to me, whether He is stroking my hair, or spanking my ass, or rubbing my clit, I am euphoric from His touch. As I sat on the floor at His feet, I yearned for Him, I longed for the release that only He can give to me. I began to rub myself against Him, to masturbate on His foot. He encouraged me, He gave me permission to cum for Him. I cannot climax without Him anymore. I need His presence, either His physical presence or the one that is implanted strongly inside of me. Even when we are apart, I must conjure up His voice in my head, telling me "Cum for me, pet." to be able to climax. Rubbing and arching against His foot made me cum better and harder than my own touches or toys ever could.
We spent time on the deck, where He bent me over the railing to spank me. Afterwards, I leaned down to suck His cock. I was aware of the openness, the lack of privacy, but He was my focus, I needed to serve Him. I only knew how completely I belonged to Him. I love His cock, I delight in touching it, licking it and sucking it. It is sacred to me. My worship and adulation of it is my namaste to Him, my gesture of reverence. His cock is my altar, my providence, my prize. My service and submission to Him has overtaken any shyness or embarrassment that I may feel.
Back inside, I began to prepare dinner, He stood beside me and carved a butt plug out of ginger root. The pungent odor filled my nose and caused my cunt to throb and drip. He had me smell and taste the ginger, He asked me if that was what I wanted. My mind was unsure, but my body's reaction betrayed any objections that I voiced. It was later, after dinner when He tried it out on me. I was nervous, not knowing what to expect. The onset was a nice cool sensation, but that quickly gave way to an intense heat that spread through me and caused quite a bit of squirming. The heat and pulsating spread to my cunt as well and turned into a pretty intense orgasm. The pleasure definitely outweighing the discomfort. He followed that up with applying the nipple clamps and clothespins and then using the blade of His knife to trace and outline my body. Though, I trusted Him completely and I knew He would never harm me, the knife play brought back intense memories and emotions and reduced me to tears. His voice and His reassurances kept me present, they affirmed my safety and offered protection from the evil in my past. He has liberated me, and by doing so has deeply ensconced me in His possession and control. The impact play was less this time, some spanking, a few strokes of His belt and the whip. The intensity was in the form of the psychological impact. The marks He left were those of a healer's touch. With a surgeon's skill, he has cut away the festering wounds and emotions, leaving behind what is healthy and strong.
He is still one of very few people I can cry in front of. One year ago, I refused to let anyone see me cry at all. When the tears come now, I am a little girl for Him. I am taken to a place of trust and innocence. I can relax into His arms and bare myself to Him completely, for I know that I am loved and protected. I have never felt safer in my life, than I do in His arms. Once again, He took me farther than I ever thought was possible. He led me past limits, He fulfilled all of my needs.
Eros Ramazotti & Anastacia ~ I Belong to You
In my mind, I am bound to Him. In my heart, I revere Him. In our interactions, He sanctifies me. I do not wear a collar, but psychologically and spiritually, I am His possession. He realizes, better than I do, what I need and desire. He is better able to please me and sate those desires than I am myself. I have realized that He is all that I need. He gives me everything that I could ever want. He is my fantasy and my desire and nothing else matters. He is my guide, my leader, my security, my sanctuary. This has never been more apparent to me than it was this week.
I am completely His. When we are together, I bask in His presence. I am His pet, I am cherished and cared for. Tuesday, when He was here, I sat at His feet. My head was in His lap and He was stroking my hair and my neck. I have never felt more content or fulfilled. His touches are magic to me, whether He is stroking my hair, or spanking my ass, or rubbing my clit, I am euphoric from His touch. As I sat on the floor at His feet, I yearned for Him, I longed for the release that only He can give to me. I began to rub myself against Him, to masturbate on His foot. He encouraged me, He gave me permission to cum for Him. I cannot climax without Him anymore. I need His presence, either His physical presence or the one that is implanted strongly inside of me. Even when we are apart, I must conjure up His voice in my head, telling me "Cum for me, pet." to be able to climax. Rubbing and arching against His foot made me cum better and harder than my own touches or toys ever could.
We spent time on the deck, where He bent me over the railing to spank me. Afterwards, I leaned down to suck His cock. I was aware of the openness, the lack of privacy, but He was my focus, I needed to serve Him. I only knew how completely I belonged to Him. I love His cock, I delight in touching it, licking it and sucking it. It is sacred to me. My worship and adulation of it is my namaste to Him, my gesture of reverence. His cock is my altar, my providence, my prize. My service and submission to Him has overtaken any shyness or embarrassment that I may feel.
Back inside, I began to prepare dinner, He stood beside me and carved a butt plug out of ginger root. The pungent odor filled my nose and caused my cunt to throb and drip. He had me smell and taste the ginger, He asked me if that was what I wanted. My mind was unsure, but my body's reaction betrayed any objections that I voiced. It was later, after dinner when He tried it out on me. I was nervous, not knowing what to expect. The onset was a nice cool sensation, but that quickly gave way to an intense heat that spread through me and caused quite a bit of squirming. The heat and pulsating spread to my cunt as well and turned into a pretty intense orgasm. The pleasure definitely outweighing the discomfort. He followed that up with applying the nipple clamps and clothespins and then using the blade of His knife to trace and outline my body. Though, I trusted Him completely and I knew He would never harm me, the knife play brought back intense memories and emotions and reduced me to tears. His voice and His reassurances kept me present, they affirmed my safety and offered protection from the evil in my past. He has liberated me, and by doing so has deeply ensconced me in His possession and control. The impact play was less this time, some spanking, a few strokes of His belt and the whip. The intensity was in the form of the psychological impact. The marks He left were those of a healer's touch. With a surgeon's skill, he has cut away the festering wounds and emotions, leaving behind what is healthy and strong.
He is still one of very few people I can cry in front of. One year ago, I refused to let anyone see me cry at all. When the tears come now, I am a little girl for Him. I am taken to a place of trust and innocence. I can relax into His arms and bare myself to Him completely, for I know that I am loved and protected. I have never felt safer in my life, than I do in His arms. Once again, He took me farther than I ever thought was possible. He led me past limits, He fulfilled all of my needs.
Eros Ramazotti & Anastacia ~ I Belong to You
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