Thanks Giving Day by Doc

“Well, I hope you had a good Thanksgiving Day, Freddie,” she said.   “Yes, I did, Miss.  Thank you for asking.”  She was now going to lapse into silence; I knew this because it was her pattern.  Sure enough, she was quiet – probably doing something important.  My evil mind jumped around, thinking of her filing her nails, or leaving the computer to go make a pot of coffee.  Important stuff.  Ha, ha.

She came back in about five minutes.  (I’d used the time to read – actually skim – an article in Science Magazine.  Why waste time?)  “Oh, I forgot you’re still here,” she said.  “What did you do on Thursday?”  She was being polite.  I was OK with that, but still decided not to kill the conversation with some stupid comment like, ‘Nothing in particular’ or worse.

“I spent a good bit of the day online, Miss.  Mostly.  Some studying, too .   I went out with a couple of friends to eat at a cafeteria, too.  No reservations required.”  I refrained from saying aloud ‘I poured myself a Scotch and water to get through the annual cafeteria ritual.”  She would have considered that highly ungrateful – since the folks I went out with had gone out of their way to include me.  She would have been totally correct to call me an ingrate.
 
I knew I should be grateful when Gloria and Dianne invite me along.  I really should.  They’re good people and their hearts are in the right place.

At least this year I kept my mouth (mostly) shut and didn't put a damper on their fun.
“You’re quiet, Freddie.  Thinking about something?”
 
“Oh, just about Thanksgiving, Miss.” I paused.  “I guess the next big event is Christmas, huh?”

I knew she didn’t want to hear about my opinions on shopping.  Ughhhhhhhhh.  I left that off the conversational table.

“You are a very fortunate person, Freddie.  Do you know that?”

I knew that.  For one thing, I liked her.  More important, she liked me (or seemed to anyway).

“Yes, Miss.  I am.  I’m in good health.  I have a house full of books – and that means hundreds of interesting people lining my walls. I eat well.”  By this last comment I meant that I eat every day.  I remembered the time, in my 20's, when I ran out of money and had to borrow five dollars from a college chaplain.  Two days without eating was my only experience of hunger.  An image from my past flashed before my eyes.  I’d been stationed in Thailand.  It was a gorgeous Sunday morning and – as I walked down the street under the blue skies – I heard a rustling in a dumpster a few yards away.  Then I saw what I will always remember: a grimy kid, no more than four years old, climbing out of the dumpster with a scrap of discarded food in his filthy hands.

“I remember, too, Miss, people who have had far less than I do.”  I chose not to explain.
“Miss, I know you have had a rough life, too….”.  I paused.  She had shared some real horrors from her childhood with me.  Things no woman should ever have to experience.   She was silent.  I didn't really expect or want her to dwell on those things today.  It had been a mistake to even say what I had said.  I decided to try to fix things up a bit.

“Miss, I want to say something now – just because we’re between Thanksgiving and Christmas. “

“Yes?”

“I just want to thank you for being part of my life, for being open with me and letting me be open with you….”  I thought a bit.  “It isn’t mostly the sex thing, though I really appreciate that, Miss.  It’s more – well – just being allowed to be myself.  You don’t judge me.  I like that.  A lot.”

She then said, “That cuts both ways.  I feel the same way.”

“Is there anything I can say to express my feelings for having you in my life, Miss?”

“Yes,” she replied.  “You can simply say to me, ‘Thank you!’

I did.

I meant it with all of my heart.

We both knew that a world where few could be trusted, she was my boss, my friend, my advisor, my guide, and my lover.  She in turn knew I was not going to betray, misuse, or manipulate her.
I think we are both very lucky.

For us every day is Thanks Giving Day.

Thankful Confessions Something by Anonymous

I felt her silently enter the room
In the dark only her tiptoes were heard
I wondered if she was full as the moon
Shook it off knowing that was absurd

Quietly she laid down on the bed
Looked at me to see if I was awake
On my arm I rested my head
And whispered "you are as beautiful as the lake"

Quickly we fell asleep
Dreams came and went
Feeling breath after breath so deep
And thankfulness for the day sent

Bad Gratitude by Miss Monday

Sometimes, when things happen in life... bad things, we want to sink and wallow in our suffering.

"It's horrible and it'll never get better!"
"Why me? Why now?"

Things we love taken away.  People we love, leaving us.  Our hope and home compromised.  The feel of loss and loneliness.  We feel ugly, unwanted, unloved.  Discarded and forgotten.  That one person we wanted so desperately has left, and you're left with unrealized desires and tears.  Our world ... the tenuous reality we have worked so hard to create is shattered and our world will never be the same again.

This is what we should be thankful for.  Getting shaken up, having that comfort, how ever minimal, taken away.  Because we are meant for better, greater things.  Deeper things...

To leave something you wanted behind, something that really wasn't for you.  To return to the status quo and start over.  This is what life is about.  Finding our way, discovering what is best for us.

I lost that which I held most dear.  The one person I worked for, bared myself for... Only to turn around and be lost again when he left.  I thought myself lost.  Steeped in tears and the cobwebs washed away... I was closer to being me, to being found than I ever imagined.

Sometimes we lose what we think we want, and end up finding what we really need.  I found myself in those hard months after the break up... And I found the one that compliments me, adds to my life, and allows me to add to his.  I found my family.  I found my Home.  I found my Love.

And I am grateful for the bad things.

How Wild Things Are Won by Argosian

How wild things are won,
its like this-
Very
    Slowly
        Carefully
It starts with glances
with a glimpse of beauty
Potential
such careful distance.

It starts with uncertainty
    And then
Curiosity
    Ringing around edges
        Circling corners
A fragile and delicate dance
Until at last
You meet in the center.

Here:
Is where all things come to a stop
There is a moment
Of perfect stillness
When no breaths are drawn
In between the pulse of heartbeats
Infinitesimally small
Where the connection first sparks to life.

Confession by Miss Vixie

A recent RL encounter (true story):
------------------------------------------

I'm at a local dungeon at a women's-only party. I've already had one play date when Caitlyn comes outside where I am, to have a cigarette. That's what I'm doing. The sweat is still on my breasts from spanking and flogging Carrie. I'm naked from the waist up.

Eventually I ask Caitlyn if she'd like to play, and we negotiate the scene. It's obvious from our talk that she's something of a pain slut. This looks like fun.

I lead her inside to a spanking horse. She strips down to her panties and takes her place. As I carefully tie her in place, I wonder if I'll get to remove those panties later.

Her breasts are small, too small to permit extensive clothespin play, but I start off by putting a couple gentle clothespins on her nipples. I tell her it's up to her when I remove them. She's skinny as a rail, but with a nice little ass.

After a few experimental spanks, I get out my deerskin flogger. I start going at her lightly for a couple minutes.

"How's that, dear?" I ask. She wants more, and harder. I oblige.

On it goes, with me checking on her every couple minutes and her asking for more, and harder, each time. I continue to oblige her. Eventually I'm flogging her harder than I've ever flogged anyone, and she wants more. And harder. Finally she's satisfied with the pain level. Oh, my!

That ass is starting to get nicely red, I noticed. I've worked up quite a sweat with the flogging and I need to switch tactics to conserve energy. So I go to spanking.

It's actually easier to apply serious pain by spanking than with a deerskin flogger, so this is something of a rest break for me. But I know I won't be able to keep it up for long. So I switch strategies after maybe ten minutes of the spanking.

"Would you like to cum, dear?" I asked her. "Yes, please, mistress."

"Good girl", I say. "And, mistress?" she asks. "Yes?"

"May I have some pain with my orgasm?"

I think I can manage that.

I don latex exam gloves. She's too young to have an allergy, really, but I ask anyhow. She denies it. I slooooowly pull down her panties.

I get out the lube (I always have a tube in my kit) and start to gently lube her up, starting at the clit and working gently inside. Soon I have two fingers inside her, then three, then four. "Fuck my hand, dear" I tell her needlessly. She's already doing it.

I wouldn't care to say how many times she came, but it must have been two or three times at least. I keep her suspended in ecstasy for ten or so minutes, then finally I must quit. My back is starting to hurt from the position I'm in. I untie her and she dresses, smiling at me as she does. We head outside for another cigarette.

She's half my age, so I'm not considering her for a relationship or anything. Turns out it's a good thing I didn't get attached, as she moved to San Francisco from here (Los Angeles) a week later. We're still friends on Fetlife, though.

Anonymous Confession

Why do I have to love you?
What was it that made me fall?
I remember a time I was happy.
Now torture defines it much more.

I know I will never escape it.
It will follow me tho life will go on.
Even as I'm sure I will find it again,
For you it will never be gone.

I stood by and watched it take over,
My body, my heart, and my mind.
Never felt fear in letting it grow,
Getting deeper with the passing of time.

Then just when I thought I was in the right place,
Where nothing could spoil the flow
Things began to crumble around me.
And changed the direction I'd go.

It may be that you do still love me.
Your saying I'm the one you adore.
But Its obvious because I know you so well.
You've been thinking of  someone else more.

So this is where love becomes painful.
Unable to just stop how I feel.
Where separation from you would just kill me.
Destroying my plans and our deal.

And yes it does stop hurting.
If given the time to heal
But I'll keep this love forever saved
In a place in my heart I can feel.

Spontaneous Confessions 24/11/14

Q: How did you realize you were Dominant or Submissive?

A: I've always been prone to taking charge and leading my peers. Always. Within the context of BDSM, a submissive use to follow me around like a puppy dog. At the time, I always thought of him as a friend. One day he said to me, "You're a Domme and you don't even know it!" Thus began my curiosity and journey into what many call, The Lifestyle.

- Promises Paine


How did you realize you were Dominant or Submissive?

I realized when I was four and I wanted everything and made sure everyone knew.  I had them at my beck and call.


How did you realize you were Dominant or Submissive?

How did I realize I was submissive? Well... I guess you could say it was more of an underlying trait. I've always enjoyed pleasing people. I've always enjoyed seeing others gain pleasure from work that I have done, or favors that I have performed, or just... my presence. Entering into the D/s world was sort of an "Oh shit, there's a word for this!?" kind of deal. It lead to a whole new world of discoveries about things I can enjoy doing for another or enduring for another.


How did you realize you were Dominant or Submissive?

There was never an "ah ha!" moment.  Over the last few years I just started to explore D/s and just naturally found my way.  Like a leaf floating down a stream.


How did you realize you were Dominant or Submissive?

The idea that I was submissive came gradually as I realized my sex life was subject to the whims, desires, wants and needs of women. Honestly, I've been attracted to strong women most of my life (though not sexually) because all the women in my life (mother, aunts, etc) were strong Italian and Irish-American women who didn't put up with any BS from men.  The sexualization part started with my first college girlfriend (Sharon) who was heavily into tease and denial.  Any sex I got over my youth was at the whim of my partners; it was 'out of my control'.  As I began to visit topless clubs in my 30's, it was obvious that the ladies decided who they'd spend time with -- not me.  --- Anyway, as the twig is bent so grows the tree.  And nothing has changed over the years.  Man proposes; woman disposes.


How did you realize you were Dominant or Submissive?

It is perhaps one of the questions that I find difficult to answer. I did consider myself to be Dominant for a major part of my life. During later years, I realized that I wasn't so much of a Dominant and that what I perceived to be my Dominance was in fact a result of social conditioning. This made me look for experiences in the other side and it started bit by bit. That is all I can say.