Home

Posted on 8:39 PM by Tina

"I'm sorry I got home late," S said as he walked in the door.

S has been staying with me for just a few days since he left his wife, until his apartment is ready for move in. I was struck by the use of the word "home" as he has only been here a few days and he isn't moving in permenantly, just visiting.

S has used "home" to refer to where he belongs. Being home for him implies this is where he is comfotable, accepted and peaceful. I was flattered that he felt this way in my home. I would do anything to accomodate him and help him through this transition.

After holding me tight and kissing me for a bit, he pulled back and looked into my eyes, relaxed and tired after a long day motorcycling with his buddies. I realized in that moment that it was not my house to which he was referring, but my embrace. In my embrace he had found his home.

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Understanding My Role

Posted on 12:29 PM by Tina

As I have stated, I am a powerful woman. I recognize that I am strong; strong willed, determined, and intelligent. I can use those strengths, and have for many years, to further myself in life. I have also taken the backseat when I felt beaten down by life, and let the road drive away with me. I became tired of the backseat recently, and began this D/s relationship with S, leaving my husband, abandoning most of what I know and believe to explore who I am, or should I say, who ELSE I am.

Being submissive is not something I've ever been able to escape from, because it lingers in my spirit. I deeply believe in the concept of service. So how was I to reconcile this strong, aggressive personality with the belief I hold so true in being a submissive woman? Bottle it up? Bullshit. Wouldn't that just be betraying myself in another way? No, I don't think S wants to be with me to watch me minimize who I am. Nor do I wish to do so for him, or anyone else, ever again.

Last night, while riding my Dom's cock, it all became so clear to me. He loves my strength, my will, my determination, my intestinal fortitude, my drive, my passion, my power, my intellect, my skills of persuasion and manipulation. These are the very traits that attracted him to me. So I looked into his beautiful brown, soulful eyes, and realized he wanted me to be who I am. So how can the two things coexist inside of me?

While riding him, loving him, opening up to him and declaring my devotion to him, the words poured out from my soul and made it all so clear. I wasn't thinking; I was only feeling. Going forward, everything I am, everything I have, everything I do, will all be for his benefit. I will work for him, protect him, love him, comfort him, fight for him, die for him. If anyone were to try to harm him, they would have to kill me first, else I aptly destroy them. My life is now devoted to bringing to S everything I would ever want for myself. My commitment is to better his life, in every way I possibly can.

One major factor in this decision is to improve my own life, to grow as a person, to be all that I can be, so I have not only something for myself, but even more to offer my Dom.

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Everywhere

Posted on 1:25 PM by Tina


Drenched with thirst
For your kiss
To breathe your breath
To chew your words
And swallow them like chocolate
Smooth, sweet, satiating

Lust claws at me
From an unknown depth
Ravenous for your touch
Your hands,
Your mouth,
Your kiss,
Your tongue
To breathe your words into me

Listen
My heart is trembling
For your hands
To wash over me
Exploring my outside
Revealing me inside

Look into my eyes
Let me look into yours
I see the abyss of secrets
Thoughts, ideas, desires
Kiss me with your ideas
Breathe into me your dreams
Lick my tongue and taste my desire

Touch me everywhere

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Trust

Posted on 5:08 AM by Tina

If you are reading this right now, regardless of who you are, if you are not my Dom, I don't trust you. S is the only living, breathing person I trust. Not because he is my Dom and has trained me to trust only him. Quite the contrary! Before him, I trusted no one. He is my Dom because he made it into my heart, and earned my trust. Only he can dominate me because only he has earned my trust, and only he can master me. If a person cannot be trusted, then they cannot know me, really know me. To know the true me, the person I hide deep inside, is a privilege no one has ever had before.

When I say S knows me, well the truth is, he knows only what I've shared. Certainly he hasn't heard all of my stories, nor my whole life story. He doesn't need to, nor is that even realistic. What he knows is how my mind works, what is in my heart, my joys, my fears, my hopes, my beliefs. He knows my desires and my needs, oft times better than I know myself. He knows this because I have opened up and shared with him with complete abandon, showing him all of me, naked from the inside out.

In my lifetime I have been raped twice, beaten by numerous men, defiled in a drunken state from time to time, and been lied to countless times. I've been robbed, held at gun point, and abandoned. I've been manipulated, coerced, and tricked. Why the fuck would I trust anyone? And why would I trust a man? I would rather eat you alive, rip out your heart and watch you lie upon the ground, gasping for your last breath, with fear in your eyes. Trust a man? And why would I even want to trust? Why?

All of those questions I can't really answer, but this one thing I hold true. I know I need to trust, and I need to be dominated. I needed to find a real man to meet these needs, and now I have. S is worthy of my trust, worthy of my praise, worthy of my devotion. I have found with him a peace I had never known. Perhaps one day I will understand "why" better, but for now I am content with just knowing I do.

Trust used to be a four-letter word for me. Now, it has saved my soul.

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Removing His Boots

Posted on 8:49 PM by Tina

"Remove my boots," S said.

I had already been bent over and teased, licked, sucked and fucked hard in my dress and heels, cumming repeatedly which had weakened my knees to near collapse. Clutching the ottoman near the front door, begging to be on my back, S decided when it was time. He pulled me up by the shoulders with his very gentle touch, and breathed out the word, "Go." I ran up the stairs to the bedroom.

Reaching the bedroom breathless, I flipped on the bathroom light, and stood beside the bed, facing away from the door, trembling. For some reason, the adrenaline, anticipation, and arousal had culminated in a panicked fear. My mind raced so that I couldn't make sense of the feeling. S slowly ascended the stairs, moving up behind me stealthily. Ever so quietly, yet assertively, he commanded, "Remove my boots."

Spinning around and dropping to my knees, I could feel the deep breaths taking over my body, nearly bringing me to convulsions. My hands trembled and my mind reeled so that it took total concentration to get the motorcycle boots untied. I remembered the hundreds of days as a very little girl, greeting my father at the door in the evenings, and rushing to his chair with him. He would say, "Remove my boots," and I would gleefully do so. Now, on my knees before my Dom, I removed his boots with care, love, and submission. Feeling truly blessed to be the one graced with the honor of bowing before him and serving him in this manner, knowing the reward that lied ahead, I salivated to please him.

When Daddy would ask me to remove his motorcycle boots, I knew I would soon be in his lap and getting a cuddle. I often fell asleep in Daddy's arms, missing family dinner, dreaming as long as he would hold me. Some mornings I awoke still in his loving arms, pleased to be his darling baby girl.

When S tells me to remove his boots, I know what lies ahead as well. A grown woman's fantasy come true, a night of orgasm after orgasm, cuddles, intimacy, confessions, insight, and submission; submitting to my deepest desires, sexually, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.

His boots and socks removed, I look up and see his soulful, deep brown, loving eyes, and I know that I am blessed to be dominated by the only man who is man enough to tame me. The first man to touch my soul was Daddy, but the man who owns my soul is S, for I have given it to him, gleefully.

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Beauty Queen

Posted on 6:15 AM by Tina

I am a Beauty Queen. At age 45, I have been nominated and crowned by our local Chamber of Commerce as Ms. City Chamber. My Dom S, who is also my employer, and I live a very public life in our small city, and this brings about a great deal of visibility for us. In public we are cautious, as S still lives with his wife whom he is seperating from currently. No one knows we have a private life together.

Last night S attended the Crowning Ceremony and we went out to dinner with many of the Chamber members and representatives. As soon as I was done eating I paid my bill and said goodnight to everyone, to drive home and wait for S. He arrived shortly therefter.

Still donning my evening gown, crown, and sash, I opened the door. In moments I was in his arms and he was looking at me intently, surveying me. Because I represent his company in the community and because I want to make him proud, I did all I could to look my best. With his first tender kiss, my public smile melted and every bit of decorum disappeared. Instantly I was a heaving, sighing, groaning, lust-filled woman who needed penetration, and he knew it.

After reaching up my skirts and finding me willing, he firmly touched my shoulders and directed me to the bedroom. He said, "My shoes," and I dropped to my knees and began undressing him. Shoes, socks, unbutton the shirt, belt, pants, pull off the briefs, and there was my goal. On my knees, with crown, sash, and gown, I began devouring him.

He began speaking. S is a quiet man, but he was unusually verbal last evening. "You need that cock, don't you Ms. City Chamber, don't you? All prim and proper, elegant ant glaomorous, but it really comes down to this, doesn't it? How much you need my cock." With every word, I only needed him more, as he knew. He always knows what I need.

The next few hours were bliss, with my Dom taking this Beauty Queen in every manner that suited him. I spent a great deal of time with my skirts flipped over my head, writhing in ecstasy.

There were a few moments, during the Crowning Ceremony while I was onstage looking out to the audience. As I did, I sought out and only saw S, and he looked at me and smiled. Nothing gives me greater pleasure than his smile; nothing. When he smiled at me again beneath me, in me, in my bed, my soul opened up. He told me how beautiful I was, how graceful and elegant. Covered in the skirts of my evening gown, he lay there letting me make love to him, as he spoke to my heart. But it was his smile that spoke to my soul. For to please him, my deepest desire.

He smiled, and I had pleased him.

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Intoxicating

Posted on 6:11 AM by Tina

He stood in my kitchen, on an early morning visit. S is always quiet, but in the mornings, even more so. He was not there to be intimate, but to support me as my soon-to-be-ex-husband moved the last of his things out of my garage and gave me his keys. We waited in the kitchen, barely speaking, and I was understandably tense. This would be the last time, most likely, seeing my husband of 13 years, and I did not want confrontation.

The Ex knows that S and I are partners in a business together; that's it. It would not be out of the ordinary to have S at the house, and I truly wanted some moral support this morning. So S and I stood in the kitchen, waiting, as The Ex was very late. When The Ex texted and said 30 more minutes before he arrived, I was able to relax a bit.

I was chattering from the nervousness, and S seemed quite unaffected. I reached to kiss him, and he stood back, aloof. When S pulls back, I become confused. What did I do wrong? Why doesn't he want me now? My mind reels.

A few moments later, in complete silence, S slowly reached his right hand out towards me and with the tips of two fingers, grasped the edge of my waist, pulling me in ever so gently towards him. He gazed into my eyes with incredible intent and placed his mouth over mine, ever so softly. He breathed in my breath, and wrapped his other hand around my waist, pulling me in tight. Suddenly, he was deep in my mouth, probing me with his tongue, and his right hand was on the back of my head. Becoming intensely aware that I was completely in his grasp, and I could not free myself, even if I wanted to, I felt panic rush over me, and then, release. With his tongue in my mouth, his hands grasping me, and his very presence in my soul, I began to cum, over and over. My legs weakened below me, but S held me so tightly that my heaving body simply dangled in his arms, all the while, with his tongue still searching my mouth for it's prize.

This went on for some time, but I could never say how long. In his arms time stands still. Euphoria consumed me like the sun upon the land on a cloudless day. Warm, inescapable, and restoring, his presence intoxicates me.

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The Power of Words

Posted on 5:37 PM by Tina

I recently read on another Sub's blog about having safe words. In fact, I read about this subject quite often. So I have evaluated the need for set of safe words.

As of now, S and I don't have any designated safe words. The truth is, when I was married to my husband, I had a safe word that I used to remind him that he was frightening me with his horrible temper. It rarely worked, and often gave him power over me to frighten me more. This was not a healthy relationship in any way, nor was it designed to be a D/s relationship.

But with S, I have truly never felt unsafe. Actually, I have never felt safer! I know he has my best interests at heart, and he would never, ever harm me. He just isn't that kind of man. We have discussed the inflicting of pain, and neither one of us are interested in that type of relationship. That, coupled with the enormous trust I have in my loving Dom, presents an opportunity to truly place myself in his hands, completely. This has freed my spirit to soar, and to be natural and open with him about everything. I make every attempt to overcome my own baggage and tell him everything as it arises in my mind, thus helping me to understand myself better daily.

I truly understand the need for safe words in the D/s relationship, as all relationships are not the same. But for me, now, I don't want a safe word.

I am a writer, and words are my craft. Having spent my life loving words has taught me the power of every word that is written and spoken. My wish now is that my words are free, to carry the message of my spirit out to the world, with no need for a place to hide ever again. In the arms of my Dom, I am safe; so I needn't be hidden by a word.

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When I Fall Short. . .

Posted on 8:27 PM by Tina

Last evening, S and I went to a concert together. He had been busy all weekend, and was really tired. The concert was in a very relaxed setting, and the music very mellow. At one point I looked over, and my sweet Dom was so sleepy.  For the next hour, every time I looked over at him, his eyes were closed and he was leaning on me, nearly dozing off. I decided that we should leave at intermission, because I felt like this concert I drug him to was boring for him, and I felt guilty keeping him up when he was so tired. It was a long ride home, and even though I was driving, he was still being inconvenienced. I simply want to meet his needs.

My mistake was trying to think for him, and I gently insisted we leave. When he said no, I didn't leave well enough alone. I thought I knew better.

Truly, I am a very fortunate Sub. Because on the way home, when S expressed his displeasure with my insistence, he was gentle with me. It is far more important that to him that I understand why I need to submit, rather than just mindlessly submitting. S loves that I am strong, independent, and intelligent, and counts on those aspects of my personality in many ways. But a submissive woman knows she cannot attempt in anyway to overpower or out-think her Dom; this is unacceptable in every instance.

When I realized how I had behaved, I felt the rush of shame wash over me. I literally felt cold throughout my body and the pang of fear clutched my stomach like an iron fist. A cold sweat broke out over my trembling body and I could barely speak. Clutching the wheel, I drove towards home, barely able to watch the road, and completely unable to look at S in the passenger seat. I thought of the ride to the concert, the way we laughed and joked, the way we touched each other and stimulated one another sexually as we flew up the highway. Now in the dark car, maneuvering through the traffic, all I could feel was deep disgrace.

No physical punishment awaited me; S knew my shame is genuine and that is punishment enough. When he asked me if I wanted to continue this relationship, tears welled up in my eyes. He then asked, "Who is making the decisions here? Is it me, or is it you?" I could barely breathe the answer, "You. . ." and choke back my self disgust. He gently took my hand, and reiterated how much he cared, how he wanted me to be myself, and if this wasn't going to work for me, that he would make the necessary adjustments. I begged him to not give up on me, with the few words I could speak, and promised that my desire to serve was sincere and that I would try harder.

Saying goodbye in my driveway, and not knowing when I would see him again, I longed for him to stay, to comfort me and ease me through my shame. He did not, for many reasons, but he directed me to not dwell on the subject. It was done, and if I had learned my lesson, then it was behind us. I promised to not dwell, and gathered up all of my strength and walked in the door to my home.

I cried myself to sleep, ashamed, and heartbroken. Waking this morning, I faced the day with a renewed determination to better serve this wonderful man whom I love so dearly.

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Freedom

Posted on 6:18 AM by Tina

One thing that I truly love about my relationship with S is the enormous freedom that comes with it. He rarely asks me how I spent my day, and most often we just email. S is still living with his wife, who knows he's leaving, but isn't fully clear about his relationship with me. She knows I work for him, that we spend a great deal of time together, and that he is leaving. She suspects I am involved, but that is all. At this point, S is making endroads to move out into his own place. But once that is done, I greatly suspect my level of freedom still will not change.

S enjoys freedom more than any person I've ever known. He relishes it, savors it and craves it. Actually, his dominance is really just a reflection of that freedom. He wants me to submit my body for his pleasure, so he is free to do anything he likes to me, with no objection. He wants to be free to probe, lick, fuck, and physically manipulate me at his will. My pleasure is a byproduct of his desire to fulfill himself. And one thing he finds fulfilling is making me cum, over and over and over, at will.

Once we became involved, he helped me see how little freedom I had in my life, and encouraged me to seek it out for myself. Now I live alone, own my home, work for him, set my own schedule, and do what I please. He is the only person I answer to, and really, not all that often. I answer to him mostly about work issues, and rarely on my personal life. But if he calls, I drop everything for a chance to see him. And he knows this.

Being with S is a choice for me. Pleasing him is something I choose to do. I WANT to please him, I am not obligated to do so. I do not set out to please him because I am afraid of him if I do not. I want to bring him pleasure because I love to see him pleased! His smile, his approval, his touch are my greatest rewards! One thing I can do to please him is to please myself. I do not believe domination walks hand in hand with obligation. Either of us could walk away at any moment. It is a choice to be together, not a requirement.

A lover of freedom abhors management of any type. Management is enslaving not just to the individual being managed, but the manager to the same degree. So management is something S and I try to avoid at all costs. Accountability, maturity, ownership, responsibility, and honesty are all crucial to make this work. Fortunately, we are both adults, and willing to adhere to these principals. So truly the only managing S does is in regards to my diet, and even then, he just sets guidelines. It is up to me to adhere to those guidelines.

As a fully capable woman free to make her own choices in life, I want to please my loving Dom. Nothing else in life gives me greater pleasure than to hear him groan my name with ecstasy and tell me, "You're a good girl Sweetie."

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Photography

Posted on 5:42 AM by Tina

My beautiful Dom and I have spoken some of photography. One evening not long ago we were in a bar and he took a couple of photos of me. For one, in particular, he pushed my head gently down on the table, exposed the back of my neck, and got just the right angle. I look as if I'm sleeping in the photo because I am so relaxed. The truth is that when his hands are guiding me, I am in total peace.

As of now, I only own a lovely red suede collar and chain leash, but at some point I would like more restraints. Ankle cuffs, wrist cuffs, a blindfold, and even perhaps a gag all excite me so. S is always so gentle when he does anything to me, even collaring me. But he is firm, very firm, and understands my need to be restrained, and enjoys restraining me. Recently he took me out to a bar collared and leashed. This was by no means the norm for this establishment, but for hours he led me about. It was thrilling. I do so love being owned by him.

Last night I dreamt of S taking submissive photos of me. Fully restrained, completely owned, stretched out ready to be violated. Sometimes I don't understand my own desires. This is one of those times. It is all so new; why would I want this? But I do. Oh so badly, I do!

When one takes my photo, they own a piece of me for a lifetime. They've captured me, my attention, my thought, my emotion, all for a moment as I gaze into their lense. For a group of photos to be taken in which I am outrightly owned by another, to the point of restraints, in which I am gazing out with pleasure and contentment, well what could be more beautiful?

The very idea makes me wet with anticipation. . .

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