Sunday, May 15, 2011


My head is a jumble right now. I want to write, but I can't seem to nail down a single thought. Jefe just left and now I'm in mopey mode. He decided to come down Friday on a spur of the moment decision, which made my Friday something to look forward to. I couldn't wait for him to get here, the clock being ever so sadistic tormented me with slow moving hands all day. He made it here in record time, much to my immense pleasure, and we joined others for a happy hour gathering at the local watering hole. Then left came home for just enough time to grab my leather, put on the boots and hope on the bike.

I so enjoy seeing that man on his bike. I've never been one for the crotch rockets, but I have a whole new appreciation for them now. They are so vastly different from Harley's, and both have their own appeal. Watching his muscles flex as he maneuvers the controls, well it's just one more thing that gets me all excited (as if I need anything else to do that).

There was a different dynamic to his visit this time. We had a discussion earlier in the week about safe words. A continuation, really of a previous conversation regarding a master/slave tpe and how it would look to us, our personal points of view on the subject both in general, and specific to us.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about an incident where I had a choice to safeword, but instead put myself in his hands and 'went with it' and how much better I felt once I did. I've done much thinking about that incident, and how pivotal it was for me. I was completely out of my comfort zone, way outside my comfort zone, and it didn't matter.

I've thought about a couple of times when I have used the safe word (in his company- - no one else has ever pushed me that far, but that's besides the point), and I wonder how much further he could have taken me on his own. Now I know the word is there for a reason, and a very valid one, but I can't help but wonder each time I contemplate using it whether I can go a little further. Take nipple clamps- - I hate the damned things, of course he likes the damned things, so they get put on. One time in particular, I felt they hurt more than usual, I mean they really hurt, and I thought about using it. I didn't, I gave it more time and eventually that dull aching pain took over from that sharp biting pain. Now that's a very mild situation to safe word in, but that's why the word is there, mild or severe- - it's the call to stop whatever is happening.

Why do I want the safe word option? That's what I've been asking myself. I really don't. There's no reason for it in an ethereal sense. I know the man would never harm me, beat me until I was bloodied, emotionally harm me, or put me in a situation that would cross the line of legalities.

So why?

So at some point I can say enough?

I don't want to have that control anymore.

So I brought it up.

We talked.

It's a heavily implicated decision- for both of us.

He now has the ultimate responsibility to decide when something is over, or even when and where something will begin. It's a very large responsibility, and he asked some very poignant questions, and I answered as truthfully as I could. There are some things to which I don't know the answers to. I don't know if we will have to turn back and revert back to having a safe word. It's all good in theory, but in practice, who knows. But for now....

It's all in his hands.

I like it in his hands.

I can't deny him, haven't been able to since the pivotal incident. That was a huge realization for the both of us.

He asks.

He gets.

He wants.

He receives.

I would have it no other way.

Today I bathed him, I enjoyed every second of it. I didn't go through the motions because he said bathe me. He's never asked that of me, today I offered. I wanted to. I want to see to his comforts, his needs, both in and out of the bedroom. Last weekend I told him that I loved him (yes, finally). This weekend, I showed him. Not that I hadn't before, but it was different this time, completely different.

He owns me, and could dictate anything he wants of me, but...

He wants me to be me.

I am owned, and could come up with a laundry list of needs like in the past, but

I need for only him to be him.

The natural dynamic that flows between us is so effortless. There's no need to have a set of rules, our protocol is inherent to how we are. He leads and I follow, it's just the way it is. It surprises me at times, how easy it is. I knew it could be like this, knew it should be like this, just didn't think I'd find it.

I tried not to cry when he left. It didn't work. It's not that I'm trying to be a big girl and just hold it all together, but when we part it's never easy on either of us, and my tears aren't going to make it any easier. However, I won't hide my sadness either, because that's keeping things from him. He owns, and with that he gets all the emotions that go along with it. Not that I lay it all out there for him to deal with, but I do/will keep it honest. He takes it all in stride.

There were two things I felt I needed to do to go deeper in my submission to him. Reveal my feelings and remove my ability to control a scene/session/play etc whatever name you give it. I've accomplished those two things, so now it's time.

To beg....

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