I confess that I rarely looked into her eyes. The muddy marbles she chose for her avatar never appealed to me. At some point I requested that she look into finding some better ones. The results proved unsatisfactory.
Often I joined her on shopping trips, attempting to convince her that her freebie style of dress did not match my own high fashion sense. We didn’t look right together when we arrived at Femdom affairs. She often wore the same outfit three days in a row, until I’d remind her to change.
I’d drop by her house and be astonished by the lack of imagination she showed in decorating it. Her home seemed a house, impersonal, devoid of color or charm.
The movies I liked, the books I read, she’d never heard of them. Our conversations grew shorter and shorter. Our time together seemed long and drawn out. After 30 minutes, I’d
Be exhausted.
She moaned appropriately at the right points in our torture sessions, but I never had any sense that she enjoyed them in real time. Occasionally I’d brush my hand against her pussy and tickle her labia All I saw in response were long drawn out oooohs and aaahs in the chat bar.
Finally, one day I put an end to my boredom and let her go. She didn’t seem surprised but she was disappointed to be asked to remove my name from her profile, to return the collar of consideration she wore.
“Can we still be friends, Miss” she asked. I noted with a moment of relief mixed with sadness that she’d quit calling me “Mistress” with unreasonable speed. “Oh sure” I replied.
We stayed in touch for at least a year. She often told me about her real life girl friend. The two of them moved in with her mother during one long spate of unemployment. She wanted to find others in the bdsm community where she lived, but the girlfriend had no interest in meeting others. When she described their intimate times together, she only said, “We take turns doing things to one another.” What things they did was left to my imagination.
Towards the end of that year she began to speak of marriage plans. I love weddings. I listened with interest to the arrangements. Her girlfriend had very definite likes and dislikes. Remembering how little my former sub had cared about appearances, it did not surprise me that she was letting her girlfriend make most of the decisions.
When the talk turned to the wedding gown, she said she was going to match her tux vest to the colors the bride had selected for her boquet. “Oh, “I said with some disappointment.” You’re not going to both be brides? Both wear dresses?”
There was a long silence and then I saw the words appearing in text. “But I am a man, Miss, why would I wear a dress.”
“What?” I screeched, “ a MAN?
“I thought I told you,” she typed back.
“No”, I answered slowly, “you.. never… did… tell me.”
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Impromptu Confession - Thank you
Okay, here it is, an impromptu confession. Sitting here, listening to you all joke around and have fun, I am actually tearing up a little bit, thinking about how lucky I am to have all of you in my life and at Dominion. Sure, it might be the wine talking (coughs), but I can't help feeling a little overwhelmed with love for you all. Thank you for being a part of everything. You all mean so much to me. I love you!
ANON!
ANON!
Emotional Play - Anonymous
Emotional Play
I’ve heard my Dominion brothers asking about emotional play and I wanted to say something about it, because it’s not easy to know what it means or how it really feels. Not all emotional play is the same but here is something I have experienced.
Sometimes it starts with a simple question, “What are you thinking? What are you feeling?” I try to express what inane thought is in my head at the time, but we both know that isn’t what she is looking for.
“What are you feeling?” she asks again.
I stammer and stutter, searching for words to describe my emotional state. And that only seems to provide her with more fuel. She picks up on something I have said, questions it, and while I am searching for answers to that question, she changes direction. My head is spinning, my heart racing. I am constantly trying to anticipate the next question, but it comes at me from a completely different direction every time, knocking me off my feet time and time again.
I have lost track of everything, everyone else has slipped into a dull murmur in the background. My focus has become total. Soon, I am exhausted.
She recognizes this and stops, caresses my face, tells me that I have done well. I splash cold water on my face, and we begin to chat. But my head is still spinning. We talk about interests, about books and movies, about families and friends. We talk about work, past, present and future. We say goodnight. But my head is still spinning as I drift off into sleep.
The next day we converse again, brief conversations during stolen minutes at work. I count down the time until we can talk again, distraction free.
Finally, we’re alone.
“What are you feeling?” she says, and again I am clinging to my raft in a tumultuous sea, knocked off my feet by unseen waves. Today the talking feels different. The questions are pointed, directed. It seems like everything she has learned about me is now used as a tool, prying me open. She focuses on one area, exploring the depths of my feelings, selecting her questions with surgical precision, bringing a tremendous sadness back to the surface. She lingers here, on the sadness, allowing it to ebb, and then dragging it back to the surface again. Memories and feelings that I thought I had left behind in my past come bubbling up, threatening to spill over. She has brought me so deliberately to the verge of tears, making me relive my sadness, my sense of abandonment and loss. One gentle push will send me over, I know it will, but it doesn’t come. She doesn’t do it. I wait for it, expecting it, almost leaning over the edge, but when it comes, I am looking in the wrong direction.
One comment from her and I am yanked back from the edge and away from my sorrow. She has made me angry.
Now I want to defend myself, to fight, to yell and hit. I raise my voice, my blood boiling. Seething. My hands ball into fists, the sound of my blood pounding in my ears. I don’t want to feel this way. I pause to catch my breath, to let the tension out. But she just winds it back up, bringing the fiery anger back to the surface.
Then I am caught completely off guard. My anger is extreme… but she holds my face in her hands and gently kisses me. And just like that, the anger dissipates, melting away. She smiles at me. “You’re such a good boy,” she whispers.
As I slowly regain my composure, it dawns on me, finally, that she had planned it all, that she was picking and choosing the emotions I was going to feel, that they were hers to play with as she wished. Our conversation wasn’t just talking, it was a scene. She reviews it with me and shows me exactly what she did and how. The repercussions of that knowledge were still echoing in my head as I went to bed that night, flashes of her filling my dreams… and I awoke in the morning, only wondering when she was next going to ask, “What are you feeling?”
I’ve heard my Dominion brothers asking about emotional play and I wanted to say something about it, because it’s not easy to know what it means or how it really feels. Not all emotional play is the same but here is something I have experienced.
Sometimes it starts with a simple question, “What are you thinking? What are you feeling?” I try to express what inane thought is in my head at the time, but we both know that isn’t what she is looking for.
“What are you feeling?” she asks again.
I stammer and stutter, searching for words to describe my emotional state. And that only seems to provide her with more fuel. She picks up on something I have said, questions it, and while I am searching for answers to that question, she changes direction. My head is spinning, my heart racing. I am constantly trying to anticipate the next question, but it comes at me from a completely different direction every time, knocking me off my feet time and time again.
I have lost track of everything, everyone else has slipped into a dull murmur in the background. My focus has become total. Soon, I am exhausted.
She recognizes this and stops, caresses my face, tells me that I have done well. I splash cold water on my face, and we begin to chat. But my head is still spinning. We talk about interests, about books and movies, about families and friends. We talk about work, past, present and future. We say goodnight. But my head is still spinning as I drift off into sleep.
The next day we converse again, brief conversations during stolen minutes at work. I count down the time until we can talk again, distraction free.
Finally, we’re alone.
“What are you feeling?” she says, and again I am clinging to my raft in a tumultuous sea, knocked off my feet by unseen waves. Today the talking feels different. The questions are pointed, directed. It seems like everything she has learned about me is now used as a tool, prying me open. She focuses on one area, exploring the depths of my feelings, selecting her questions with surgical precision, bringing a tremendous sadness back to the surface. She lingers here, on the sadness, allowing it to ebb, and then dragging it back to the surface again. Memories and feelings that I thought I had left behind in my past come bubbling up, threatening to spill over. She has brought me so deliberately to the verge of tears, making me relive my sadness, my sense of abandonment and loss. One gentle push will send me over, I know it will, but it doesn’t come. She doesn’t do it. I wait for it, expecting it, almost leaning over the edge, but when it comes, I am looking in the wrong direction.
One comment from her and I am yanked back from the edge and away from my sorrow. She has made me angry.
Now I want to defend myself, to fight, to yell and hit. I raise my voice, my blood boiling. Seething. My hands ball into fists, the sound of my blood pounding in my ears. I don’t want to feel this way. I pause to catch my breath, to let the tension out. But she just winds it back up, bringing the fiery anger back to the surface.
Then I am caught completely off guard. My anger is extreme… but she holds my face in her hands and gently kisses me. And just like that, the anger dissipates, melting away. She smiles at me. “You’re such a good boy,” she whispers.
As I slowly regain my composure, it dawns on me, finally, that she had planned it all, that she was picking and choosing the emotions I was going to feel, that they were hers to play with as she wished. Our conversation wasn’t just talking, it was a scene. She reviews it with me and shows me exactly what she did and how. The repercussions of that knowledge were still echoing in my head as I went to bed that night, flashes of her filling my dreams… and I awoke in the morning, only wondering when she was next going to ask, “What are you feeling?”
Confessions fantasy story-Kyna
Sierra awoke and when the sleepy blur faded. Her hands reached out and pressed against cool glass. Her eyes widened as she looked around noticing that she was surrounded by a globe of glass. It was only big enough for her to stand. When she looked down with violet eyes she noticed she was dressed in shimming fabric. It almost looked like liquid over her skin. She reached down to touch it and it was as smooth as silk.
As she slowly starts to get the grasp of her situation, a sudden tap, tap,tap.. snaps her back into the moment. She turned to look behind here where the source of the sound was coming from. Her eyes met up with the hooded figure standing on the other side of the glass. She could see a faint from where the eyes would be on the face, and faint sound of a soft laughter.
She turned pressed her piano fingers against the glass. Desperately, trying to see her captor, and trying to remember what had happened the night before. Her mind was blank, the only things she could remember was her name and this hooded figure, deep down owned her.
Her thoughts were jarred by the soft husky voice from the person behind the hood. “Are you fully aware little pet?” The woman’s voice sent shivers down her, So dark and husky. Sierra looked up to the woman and nodded her head slowly.
“Yes M’lady” Sierra’s voice spoke softly. Normally one would wonder how the voices were heard clearly. It was because the top of the glass had a cover with metal grating so she could breath.
Sierra heard that laughter again. “Good girl, How do you like your new home, and your new clothing my little pet?”
Sierra ran her fingers over the fabric and looked over to the hooded figure. Then she suddenly tensed as the fabric squeezed against her body in a calculative manner. This also caused her to gasp out in a dainty manner.
She could hear the husky laughter “oh you liked that didn’t you my…little pet” the last words were whispered. Pulling Sierra closer against the glass, just could she could hear. She could just imagine the smirk upon the woman’s lips “Well? My pet what is your answer?” the tone indicating that promptness is important.
“Y..yes M’lady” Sierra breathed out her nerves chocking back the volume. As she watched a black hand caress the glass. It was in a hypnotic pattern and Sierra found herself watching it. Unknowing it was purposely done.
This was done to the degree she didn’t even realize the woman’s voice was also speak. “My pet this is only the beginning, the beginning of when you will come to realize where your place with be. My little caged fae.” She whispered a word which jolted throughout her body. It was then Sierra knew, she was owned, the woman knew her true name.
As she slowly starts to get the grasp of her situation, a sudden tap, tap,tap.. snaps her back into the moment. She turned to look behind here where the source of the sound was coming from. Her eyes met up with the hooded figure standing on the other side of the glass. She could see a faint from where the eyes would be on the face, and faint sound of a soft laughter.
She turned pressed her piano fingers against the glass. Desperately, trying to see her captor, and trying to remember what had happened the night before. Her mind was blank, the only things she could remember was her name and this hooded figure, deep down owned her.
Her thoughts were jarred by the soft husky voice from the person behind the hood. “Are you fully aware little pet?” The woman’s voice sent shivers down her, So dark and husky. Sierra looked up to the woman and nodded her head slowly.
“Yes M’lady” Sierra’s voice spoke softly. Normally one would wonder how the voices were heard clearly. It was because the top of the glass had a cover with metal grating so she could breath.
Sierra heard that laughter again. “Good girl, How do you like your new home, and your new clothing my little pet?”
Sierra ran her fingers over the fabric and looked over to the hooded figure. Then she suddenly tensed as the fabric squeezed against her body in a calculative manner. This also caused her to gasp out in a dainty manner.
She could hear the husky laughter “oh you liked that didn’t you my…little pet” the last words were whispered. Pulling Sierra closer against the glass, just could she could hear. She could just imagine the smirk upon the woman’s lips “Well? My pet what is your answer?” the tone indicating that promptness is important.
“Y..yes M’lady” Sierra breathed out her nerves chocking back the volume. As she watched a black hand caress the glass. It was in a hypnotic pattern and Sierra found herself watching it. Unknowing it was purposely done.
This was done to the degree she didn’t even realize the woman’s voice was also speak. “My pet this is only the beginning, the beginning of when you will come to realize where your place with be. My little caged fae.” She whispered a word which jolted throughout her body. It was then Sierra knew, she was owned, the woman knew her true name.
Bringing a fox home - Bryn
"Well this is home"
She takes the bag containing the bag and places it on the hall table, and indicates to the fox to leave his bundle on the floor next to it, while she slips off her gloves and jacket. The house is large, with wooden floors and stone clad walls and pillars, in a modern style airy and light, a large open area leading to doors on one side and a flight of wooden stairs, an open plan kitchen to the left and a seating area down a single step, looking out through French windows over a veranda and woodlands. The fox stares around, taking in the scent of floor-polish, clean rugs, ashes, a slight whiff of damp and the mixture from the kitchen area. He feels relaxed by the natural materials, and stares out at the woodlands, seeing himself running between the trees, almost unaware of the firm hand guiding him towards the kitchen area, stopping in front of two large white boxes with round windows in the front. "Clothes off, now." comes the voice bringing him back to the reality. He looks up for a moment and bends to remove his trainer, the neatly knotted, but none too clean, string parts and he slip the blue footwear off not sure what to do with it. "That will have to go fox" she says gently , taking it from his paws.
He nods watching her place it in the rubbish "Yes Miss, I was going to get rid of it." It is true, he thinks, he probably would have stopped wearing it soon, having lost its mate a day or so previously, when jumping from a fire-escape, but he knows it would have stayed hidden in a safe place for possibly a few weeks after that. He pulls his shirt off and hands it to her and starts to unbutton his jeans, watching as she places the top in the washing machine, he steps out of his pants and hands them over.
She empties the jeans pockets and puts adds the jeans to the wash, holding her hand out to the fox. "Underpants?" she says almost like a question and command in one as he stands there, his white belly-fur contrasting with the red silk boxers, a noticeable bulge in the front, and even more noticeable stains adorning the silk. His head turns down, and to the side, his ears flattening as he reaches slowly for the waistband. Her laugh distracts him, as she bends her knees, reaches out and pulls them down in a swift movement. "Embarrassed? Nothing could be more embarrassing than the state of this underwear! " She holds them up and the fox cringes inwardly, seeing and smelling them in her clean white hands for a few seconds before she flips them into the machine, closing the door and clicking it on, not noticing her quick glance down to his fox-hood. "Come fox." she says, walking quickly to the middle pair of doors, the fox follows, bare paws padding on the wood then cooler tile as he enters the most magnificent bathroom he's ever seen, though perhaps he has no seen many, and been in even less.
Despite the bathroom's size, he heads straight for the drinking water, only to be pulled up by the second time that day by her hand on his neck, more gently this time. "Sorry Miss, I should have let you drink first." he says, chastened.
"Well, that would be true but we don't drink from there, it's a toilet." The fox head-tilts taking this in - humans foul the cleanest water in their dens, how strange they are. "You can use it if you want to, sit down."
The fox sits, careful to keep his tail up. "Now what Miss?" he asks a little worried.
"Pee if you need to, fox." she says, amused, watching him bite his lip, uncertain, "Go on, it's OK." The fox nods, not used to doing it sitting and isn't really sure of the mechanics, but certainly it has been some time since he's had a chance to pee - or drink or eat - so he relaxes and lets a fountain of pee loose, it arcs through the air glinting in the sunlight, and splashing over the floor tiles - despite being aware that this is all horribly wrong the he isn't able to stop until he is completely empty. "Well, foxes are obviously slightly different from humans." she says pulling handfuls of toilet paper from the roll and passing them to the fox. "Wipe it up with that, we will have to work on the use of the toilet I can see." He wipes the floor, making a surprisingly good job, and proffers the two handfuls of paper to her. "Put them in the toilet." she says. He does and watches as she pulls the handle jumping back as the device growls at him, but coming closer and watching the mass of water churning, determining to pull the handle himself next time.
The girl opens the small glass cage in the corner of the room, motioning the fox inside, for a moment he thinks she means to keep him there, but then he sees the hose on the wall and, as he enters, recalls watching through a window as a women washed her hair with a similar device attached to a washbasin, although he was paying more attention to her figure than the plumbing. "Hold still fox." she says pointing the shower head at him and turning a control. Instantly a spray of cold water leaps from her hand dousing the creature who retreats to the far corner of the cubicle slipping on the floor and curling in to a ball.
The water plays over him for a few moments before she picks up a bottle and says "Close your eyes." squirting the greenish mint scented liquid into his fur which immediately begins to mat and wet. The water stops and he feels her strong hands rubbing the shampoo all over him lathering up his fur and his ears and his tail and under his tail and there, and the mint smell starts to subside as she rinses him off pulling him to his feet, the water slightly warmer this time, and says "You can open your eyes." handing the bedraggled fox a towel.
"Now get yourself dry, and you can get your bag from the hall and wait for me there by the door while I get changed. We may have a delivery any time"
"What clothes should I wear Miss?" he asks.
"I don't think I mentioned clothes did I?"
"No Miss." he replies blushing.
She takes the bag containing the bag and places it on the hall table, and indicates to the fox to leave his bundle on the floor next to it, while she slips off her gloves and jacket. The house is large, with wooden floors and stone clad walls and pillars, in a modern style airy and light, a large open area leading to doors on one side and a flight of wooden stairs, an open plan kitchen to the left and a seating area down a single step, looking out through French windows over a veranda and woodlands. The fox stares around, taking in the scent of floor-polish, clean rugs, ashes, a slight whiff of damp and the mixture from the kitchen area. He feels relaxed by the natural materials, and stares out at the woodlands, seeing himself running between the trees, almost unaware of the firm hand guiding him towards the kitchen area, stopping in front of two large white boxes with round windows in the front. "Clothes off, now." comes the voice bringing him back to the reality. He looks up for a moment and bends to remove his trainer, the neatly knotted, but none too clean, string parts and he slip the blue footwear off not sure what to do with it. "That will have to go fox" she says gently , taking it from his paws.
He nods watching her place it in the rubbish "Yes Miss, I was going to get rid of it." It is true, he thinks, he probably would have stopped wearing it soon, having lost its mate a day or so previously, when jumping from a fire-escape, but he knows it would have stayed hidden in a safe place for possibly a few weeks after that. He pulls his shirt off and hands it to her and starts to unbutton his jeans, watching as she places the top in the washing machine, he steps out of his pants and hands them over.
She empties the jeans pockets and puts adds the jeans to the wash, holding her hand out to the fox. "Underpants?" she says almost like a question and command in one as he stands there, his white belly-fur contrasting with the red silk boxers, a noticeable bulge in the front, and even more noticeable stains adorning the silk. His head turns down, and to the side, his ears flattening as he reaches slowly for the waistband. Her laugh distracts him, as she bends her knees, reaches out and pulls them down in a swift movement. "Embarrassed? Nothing could be more embarrassing than the state of this underwear! " She holds them up and the fox cringes inwardly, seeing and smelling them in her clean white hands for a few seconds before she flips them into the machine, closing the door and clicking it on, not noticing her quick glance down to his fox-hood. "Come fox." she says, walking quickly to the middle pair of doors, the fox follows, bare paws padding on the wood then cooler tile as he enters the most magnificent bathroom he's ever seen, though perhaps he has no seen many, and been in even less.
Despite the bathroom's size, he heads straight for the drinking water, only to be pulled up by the second time that day by her hand on his neck, more gently this time. "Sorry Miss, I should have let you drink first." he says, chastened.
"Well, that would be true but we don't drink from there, it's a toilet." The fox head-tilts taking this in - humans foul the cleanest water in their dens, how strange they are. "You can use it if you want to, sit down."
The fox sits, careful to keep his tail up. "Now what Miss?" he asks a little worried.
"Pee if you need to, fox." she says, amused, watching him bite his lip, uncertain, "Go on, it's OK." The fox nods, not used to doing it sitting and isn't really sure of the mechanics, but certainly it has been some time since he's had a chance to pee - or drink or eat - so he relaxes and lets a fountain of pee loose, it arcs through the air glinting in the sunlight, and splashing over the floor tiles - despite being aware that this is all horribly wrong the he isn't able to stop until he is completely empty. "Well, foxes are obviously slightly different from humans." she says pulling handfuls of toilet paper from the roll and passing them to the fox. "Wipe it up with that, we will have to work on the use of the toilet I can see." He wipes the floor, making a surprisingly good job, and proffers the two handfuls of paper to her. "Put them in the toilet." she says. He does and watches as she pulls the handle jumping back as the device growls at him, but coming closer and watching the mass of water churning, determining to pull the handle himself next time.
The girl opens the small glass cage in the corner of the room, motioning the fox inside, for a moment he thinks she means to keep him there, but then he sees the hose on the wall and, as he enters, recalls watching through a window as a women washed her hair with a similar device attached to a washbasin, although he was paying more attention to her figure than the plumbing. "Hold still fox." she says pointing the shower head at him and turning a control. Instantly a spray of cold water leaps from her hand dousing the creature who retreats to the far corner of the cubicle slipping on the floor and curling in to a ball.
The water plays over him for a few moments before she picks up a bottle and says "Close your eyes." squirting the greenish mint scented liquid into his fur which immediately begins to mat and wet. The water stops and he feels her strong hands rubbing the shampoo all over him lathering up his fur and his ears and his tail and under his tail and there, and the mint smell starts to subside as she rinses him off pulling him to his feet, the water slightly warmer this time, and says "You can open your eyes." handing the bedraggled fox a towel.
"Now get yourself dry, and you can get your bag from the hall and wait for me there by the door while I get changed. We may have a delivery any time"
"What clothes should I wear Miss?" he asks.
"I don't think I mentioned clothes did I?"
"No Miss." he replies blushing.
confessionPart 1 Bishop Meeting
To the Ladies and subs that have a lot of real life experience, this may seem very naive or tame or innocent. This story is just about two people who first found each other at the Dominion, meeting in RL with nothing really out of the ordinary, no kinky sex, no kink at all. But for me it was something very different. I have never explored a Domme/sub relationship outside of SL. Quite the contrary, for all of my life I've been in charge or in command of most situations. My first visit to the Dominion, and the first time I spoke on voice, it was weird to even hear my own voice talking about the things that i had previously only heard in my head. So to meet my Darling Jade in RL after ten months of SL, was a major step for me and for U/us. My Darling Jade has already talked about the first day of our first meeting in the previous confessions. It is probably easy to imagine that i was nervous, not about meeting or what would happen, but that i would dissappoint Her or do the wrong thing around Her. We hadnt really talked about how we would act in public or how i should treat Her. So what should i call Her, how should i treat her? So as I waited to see Her, i knew the best thing to do was to treat her as the Lady that She is, to call her what we do in SL. It actually became easy to just fall into the pattern of what we do for hours in SL. When i first saw Her, the first words that came to my mind were "my Darling" - what some of you may notice that i use as Her title in the Dominion. It was so easy to say, and it was so true, She was definitely my Darling Jade. Throughout the day, whenever we talked, she was either my Darling or my Baby - it may seem informal or disrespectful to some but it is what we use in SL and if you just realize that for U/us it is exactly the same as my Mistress, my Lady. All through the day, i stood on Her left side, where she said in SL that a good sub should be for his Lady. It was easy to be polite and respecful to Her, to open the door for Her, to pull out Her chair, to gently put my hand at the small of her back to guide her to the table. It was incredible for me to hold Her hand, to kiss Her lips, to simply look into Her eyes. It was easy to say, "yes My Darling as you wish" when She said She was going to make me eat a mushroom (something that i hate).
That was all i could think about after our first meeting, that first day. How it was wonderful to serve Her, even if it was just in small ways. On the second day of my trip to Her, we were going to just meet for a lunch before i had to leave. All through the day, through my meetings, all i could think about was how Her hair smelled, Her perfume, Her eyes. Finaly the time came to leave to drive to meet my Lady. After the drive, there She was, looking so much the Lady, my Darling Jade. Another greeting, my Darling Jade, another kiss - not a quick kiss but a long slow kiss hello. A quick drive to the restaurant, talking, holding Her hand, rubbing Her thigh softly trying to pay attention to the road, but wanting to pay attention to Her and Her eyes. We arrive at the restaurant, walking on Her left, as i'm supposed to, my hand on Her hip, sitting at the table, pressing my knee against her thigh. We talk, but about what i have no idea. The time when by so quickly, too quicky as it was now time and i had to leave my Lady. Another long slow kiss, this time good bye. Then another and another, over and over again, tasting Her sweet lips, hoping above all that i didnt dissappoint Her.
That was all i could think about after our first meeting, that first day. How it was wonderful to serve Her, even if it was just in small ways. On the second day of my trip to Her, we were going to just meet for a lunch before i had to leave. All through the day, through my meetings, all i could think about was how Her hair smelled, Her perfume, Her eyes. Finaly the time came to leave to drive to meet my Lady. After the drive, there She was, looking so much the Lady, my Darling Jade. Another greeting, my Darling Jade, another kiss - not a quick kiss but a long slow kiss hello. A quick drive to the restaurant, talking, holding Her hand, rubbing Her thigh softly trying to pay attention to the road, but wanting to pay attention to Her and Her eyes. We arrive at the restaurant, walking on Her left, as i'm supposed to, my hand on Her hip, sitting at the table, pressing my knee against her thigh. We talk, but about what i have no idea. The time when by so quickly, too quicky as it was now time and i had to leave my Lady. Another long slow kiss, this time good bye. Then another and another, over and over again, tasting Her sweet lips, hoping above all that i didnt dissappoint Her.
Confessions from my RL sub - Miss Rubi
That was the first time I was going to see her.
We had been talking in IMs while getting to know each other, I liked her but she knew I was a closet submissive. I`d never had a Mistress in my life no matter how much I wanted it. I waited for some reason even though I was just missing out on that part of my life.
I was uncertain about how this would develop. Would it be like I dreamed it? Would it make me feel complete? Will I love her?
I took a deep breath then I knocked at her hotel door. She was on town for business and she called me to tell me she wanted to see me. I heard her voice from inside with that familiar accent. “Come in” She said.
I was not expecting anything at all that day, maybe a light chat, a drink in the lobby just in case she did not like me.
She was standing there her back turned to me talking on the phone in spanish. Her sweet voice turned a bit deeper just the way it would if you were talking to a lover. As I just stood there waiting for her to finish, I took a long good look at her. My heart started this wild race when I noticed her dark red dress and her stilettos, the long wavy black hair swirling and when she turned to face me I saw the dark eyes look at me and I gulped.
She snapped her fingers while she was still on the phone and pointed the floor to her feet. Without hesitation I dropped to my knees and I leaned over to kiss the foot the was offering to me. A wave of embarrassment ran through me, but I kissed the very sexy shoe and the skin of her foot.
I wanted to see her dark eyes again but I did not dare to look up. She barely touched my chin with the tip of her shoe to raise my head to her then she pointed her knee then her thigh. I gasped and did as I thought she wanted me to do, I made a trace of soft kisses from her knee to her thigh, my body was trembling by then, I felt like I was in heaven. A beautiful exotic woman was telling me to kiss her while she was still on the phone. I felt so small, so ashamed, I was getting a hard on already and she hadn`t even talked to me directly.
The sweet language became sharper in tone as she was telling someone to follow her orders, the strong tone made me scared that she might use it with me. My lips were still touching the skin of her thigh as she held my head right there, and I did not dare move. She pinched my mouth so my lips puckered out to a kiss, but instead of kissing me, she guided my mouth between her legs just on top of the silky fabric of her dark red dress. She held my head there not moving or anything, my heart starting racing again. Then she continued talking for several minutes. I didn't dare move.
I felt small, and I understood what I was to her. She was showing me who was in charge by such a small gesture. I thought as she finished we would go to the regular procedures on a first date. But she told me with her firm voice. “Stand there against the door” I stood and hurried over to the door and I did as she said. Then she came from behind and she started to strip me down, my feet apart. I blushed again not knowing what to do, I was completely naked in front of her eyes for the first time and we were not even near a bed or going to have sex.
She was as tall as I was standing behind me, the scent of her perfume was intoxicating and I felt the warmth of her hand roaming my body while she kissed my neck and whispering in my ear that she approved what she was looking at. I felt a rush of embarrassment one more time I felt like a piece of meat, and yet…I loved having her approval.
I thought again that she was finished, and would tell me to get dressed when she pinched my nipples quite hard. She let one hand slowly glide south, teasing me, while I felt her clothed body press against my naked one, whispering what a good little slut I was right in my ear, holding my body against hers. I could not control my self at that point and the already painful hard on was unbearable. I thought she would ask me something else, something to make this sudden need for her stop. She stepped back without a warning, leaving me panting. I wanted to ask her to continue, but I could not open my mouth to speak. As though she could read my mind she put a hand on my neck, guiding me over to the back of the sofa, and bent me over it, telling me to keep my hands on the sofa, and she began to spank me, for the first time. Softy first, then becoming harder, pausing, reaching between my legs, making be arch my back more by pulling my cock back, holding it like that while telling me that she will spank me hard 10 times now, and that I will thank her afterwards. Then she let go, reaching around with her left hand, and got a firm grip on my cock, then smacked me hard, alternating between me left and right cheek.
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
She paused
8
The last two are even harder
9
10
I almost cry. “Now thank me" she says. I fall to my knees and bury my face against her. she puts her hand in front of me and I kiss it. It feels so warm against my lips, I mumble thank you over and over, She places her fingers under my chin, lifting my face up then looks into my eyes and places her thumb in my mouth “suck” she says. I suck on her thumb while she forces me to look in her dark eyes.
“Thats right” she says “suck like a little slut bitch, you're my bitch, and you know it” I try to look away, but she forces me to look in her eyes again. Her look terrifies me while she just stare at me for a full minute. I have never felt more naked.
She pulled her thumb out and gave me a soft kiss on the lips, and said “now get dressed, we have a date to go to”
We had been talking in IMs while getting to know each other, I liked her but she knew I was a closet submissive. I`d never had a Mistress in my life no matter how much I wanted it. I waited for some reason even though I was just missing out on that part of my life.
I was uncertain about how this would develop. Would it be like I dreamed it? Would it make me feel complete? Will I love her?
I took a deep breath then I knocked at her hotel door. She was on town for business and she called me to tell me she wanted to see me. I heard her voice from inside with that familiar accent. “Come in” She said.
I was not expecting anything at all that day, maybe a light chat, a drink in the lobby just in case she did not like me.
She was standing there her back turned to me talking on the phone in spanish. Her sweet voice turned a bit deeper just the way it would if you were talking to a lover. As I just stood there waiting for her to finish, I took a long good look at her. My heart started this wild race when I noticed her dark red dress and her stilettos, the long wavy black hair swirling and when she turned to face me I saw the dark eyes look at me and I gulped.
She snapped her fingers while she was still on the phone and pointed the floor to her feet. Without hesitation I dropped to my knees and I leaned over to kiss the foot the was offering to me. A wave of embarrassment ran through me, but I kissed the very sexy shoe and the skin of her foot.
I wanted to see her dark eyes again but I did not dare to look up. She barely touched my chin with the tip of her shoe to raise my head to her then she pointed her knee then her thigh. I gasped and did as I thought she wanted me to do, I made a trace of soft kisses from her knee to her thigh, my body was trembling by then, I felt like I was in heaven. A beautiful exotic woman was telling me to kiss her while she was still on the phone. I felt so small, so ashamed, I was getting a hard on already and she hadn`t even talked to me directly.
The sweet language became sharper in tone as she was telling someone to follow her orders, the strong tone made me scared that she might use it with me. My lips were still touching the skin of her thigh as she held my head right there, and I did not dare move. She pinched my mouth so my lips puckered out to a kiss, but instead of kissing me, she guided my mouth between her legs just on top of the silky fabric of her dark red dress. She held my head there not moving or anything, my heart starting racing again. Then she continued talking for several minutes. I didn't dare move.
I felt small, and I understood what I was to her. She was showing me who was in charge by such a small gesture. I thought as she finished we would go to the regular procedures on a first date. But she told me with her firm voice. “Stand there against the door” I stood and hurried over to the door and I did as she said. Then she came from behind and she started to strip me down, my feet apart. I blushed again not knowing what to do, I was completely naked in front of her eyes for the first time and we were not even near a bed or going to have sex.
She was as tall as I was standing behind me, the scent of her perfume was intoxicating and I felt the warmth of her hand roaming my body while she kissed my neck and whispering in my ear that she approved what she was looking at. I felt a rush of embarrassment one more time I felt like a piece of meat, and yet…I loved having her approval.
I thought again that she was finished, and would tell me to get dressed when she pinched my nipples quite hard. She let one hand slowly glide south, teasing me, while I felt her clothed body press against my naked one, whispering what a good little slut I was right in my ear, holding my body against hers. I could not control my self at that point and the already painful hard on was unbearable. I thought she would ask me something else, something to make this sudden need for her stop. She stepped back without a warning, leaving me panting. I wanted to ask her to continue, but I could not open my mouth to speak. As though she could read my mind she put a hand on my neck, guiding me over to the back of the sofa, and bent me over it, telling me to keep my hands on the sofa, and she began to spank me, for the first time. Softy first, then becoming harder, pausing, reaching between my legs, making be arch my back more by pulling my cock back, holding it like that while telling me that she will spank me hard 10 times now, and that I will thank her afterwards. Then she let go, reaching around with her left hand, and got a firm grip on my cock, then smacked me hard, alternating between me left and right cheek.
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
She paused
8
The last two are even harder
9
10
I almost cry. “Now thank me" she says. I fall to my knees and bury my face against her. she puts her hand in front of me and I kiss it. It feels so warm against my lips, I mumble thank you over and over, She places her fingers under my chin, lifting my face up then looks into my eyes and places her thumb in my mouth “suck” she says. I suck on her thumb while she forces me to look in her dark eyes.
“Thats right” she says “suck like a little slut bitch, you're my bitch, and you know it” I try to look away, but she forces me to look in her eyes again. Her look terrifies me while she just stare at me for a full minute. I have never felt more naked.
She pulled her thumb out and gave me a soft kiss on the lips, and said “now get dressed, we have a date to go to”
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