Burning within me
Boiling within my blood
Is the need
Basic as breath
words errant satiety image courtesy of SpokeninRed on deviantART
Dear readers of my erotica, apologies for the delay in the continuation of this story. I have been busy and unable to complete this part until now.
Please note that this post contains Dominant and submissive themes that may be offensive to some readers and pleasurable for others. This piece is possibly unsafe for work…
Now, to the story…
We met several times after our discovery of one another. There were several coffees in as many different cafes and a meeting at a bar. In between we emailed and messaged to discuss who were and what we wanted. Then he invited me to dinner. He came to my house to collect me.
As I paced somewhat nervously I heard his voice downstairs politely introducing himself to my landlady. When I greeted him at my door he carried a bag and a blue rose. This was an attention to detail, he knew that these roses were very special to me. He handed me the rose and asked if he might come in.
His gaze took in my open plan single bedroom apartment with one sweep. He placed the bag next to my coffee table, smiling as he did so.
“This is something I intend to leave here. For later.” I nodded wondering what he thought of my home. I knew it was tidy and clean although run down from age.
“You keep a good home little one.” I sighed in relaxed contentment.
“Now, will you join me for dinner?” His eyebrows rose in question and I smiled and laughed at his proffered arm. I nodded “Yes Sir, it would be a pleasure.”
It was a nice restaurant, a very nice restaurant. He ordered for us both then presented the documents we had agreed upon. I looked him deeply in the eyes before I signed. He came around beside me lifted my face to him and kissed me deeply before he also signed.
When the waiter arrived with the bottle of champagne, he took the bottle to pour our drinks himself. We were there to celebrate his asking me to be his submissive and my acceptance of him as my Dominant. I was giddy before the champagne but I knew that this was the seemingly vanilla celebration before the consummation. My giddiness stemmed from my exultance to have found one that wanted what I did. Full immersion.
Now, here I stood before him, completely naked for the first time. I was freshly showered, my hair was loose, I wore no makeup and was completely unadorned apart from my blush which deepened right to the core of me every time his eyes touched my skin.
From his position on one of my two dining chairs he smiled at me. Rising, he moved towards me and circled slowly around me. “My little one, you have accepted me as your Sir and I have accepted you as my submissive. We have signed basic contracts which we will rewrite in three months time once we have had time to get to know one another better.” He stopped in front of me eyes on mine. “You are my blank canvas with which I will create a masterpiece. I will train and adorn you as I see fit, agreed?”
“Yes Sir.” I replied.
“Good girl.” He moved to the bag he had left before our dinner. He opened the zip slowly and extracted a leather riding crop. He stepped back to the chair and moved it so that he could sit directly in front of me perhaps three feet away. As he sat I saw he held up the riding crop, sending a thrill of anticipation through me.
“Now, my little one, you will learn to kneel for me. You will kneel with knees spread shoulder width apart, seated on your feet with your palms facing up on your thighs. You will look straight ahead. You will do this gracefully. Kneel.”
I took a deep shaky breath and sank to my knees in the position he had described. I was mostly aware of how this opened my sex to him. I wondered how he felt about my nakedness. For a long time I had been regularly plucked clean of all the hair beneath my arms, legs and my sex. My sensitive skin made shaving uncomfortable and I enjoyed my visits to the waxing salon, frankly they turned me on. All that hot wax on my body…
Thwack. My backside stung.
“Where did your thoughts just go, my little one?”
“I, I…” Thwack.
“Are you here with me?”
“Yes Sir.” He now stood before me and lifted my chin to look up at him. “What was it you were thinking of?”
“Sir, I was wondering what you think of my waxing.” He looked down at my bare open mound. He traced the tip of the crop up my inner thigh to rest on my naked clitoris.
“Yes Sir.” He smiled,
“I find it quite delectable.”
“Thank you Sir.”
“Why were you concerned?”
“I, I enjoy the waxing Sir. It feels good.”
“You have a female beautician?”
“This is fine for now, I might think about learning this art.”
“For now, stand. We will begin again. Slower as you lower yourself, don’t just plop yourself down, place yourself, for my eyes are on you.” I stood as carefully and slowly as I could. I remembered our conversations, my eyes met his and I breathed deeply letting his Dominance enter me. With grace and strength I lowered myself to my knees as a dancer would. My hands floated to rest on my thighs my eyes straight ahead.
This time as he circled me my thoughts were focused on him. I was in my body but in this moment I was there for him alone. My pleasure was to please him. His booted foot pushed my right knee a little more to the right and a hand moved my elbow just slightly. I understood I had not found symmetry. From behind me his voice came: “Rise again little one.” I took a deep breath and rose. My core drove me upward my feet freed to elegantly find their place. I silently blessed my hours of practice alone before the mirror and my years of dance to help me achieve this easily. Yet the crop found my thighs.
“Better precious little one, but for me not you.” I blushed deeply.
“Arms behind your back palms to elbows.” I did so quickly. I heard him sigh and then he circled to stand before me and examine this pose from the front. I was so aware of my naked breasts, never as full as I would, but they were mine. I breathed deeply again, the crop came to rest beneath my left breast. He traced around this one then my right.
“These are beautiful. But you doubt it?” I bit my lip, embarrassed at being so transparent and at the discomfort of disclosure.
“Yes Sir, I feel lacking.”
“And if I tell you again that they are beautiful?” I faltered and the crop flicked across my left nipple. Heated pain seared through me followed by delicious arousal. A smile twitched at my lips.
“I would thank you Sir and express gratitude at your attention towards my sensitive breasts.” He laughed and treated my right breast to the same treatment a whimper crossed my lips.
“You are very sexy little one. We will train long and hard but not tonight, I have some other plans for the consummation of our agreement. Kneel for me once more with your hands in this position.” I took a deep breath aware of how my breasts rose toward him as I did so. Looking him right in the eyes I gently lowered myself easing my legs apart feeling proud that my naked sex pleased him and I prayed that the silken moistness I knew was covering my labia was visible to him, that he would know how much I wanted to be his.
“Little one, look how regal you are offering me your vibrant sex; so delicious, so submissive I am proud of you. Such a good girl you will be my jewel. You will wear my marks, adhere to my Dominance and shine like the graceful beauty you are. Rise now for me little one.” As I rose he flicked the crop against my clit and held it there. The sensation was so erotic I wanted to fall to my knees once again.
To be continued…
I suggest this beautiful song to express the transformation that occurs when someone chooses to explore their submission, their desire for service. The racks on our backs on which we stack our load can devour us without a Dominant to guide us. The artist, Bon Iver, is a very talented lyricist, I would say poet, as well as musician. (A note: Kumran is a reference to Qumran the site where the dead sea scrolls were discovered. For those that are unaware, this discovery in 1947 potentially challenged the canonized new testament gospels [by providing alternative gospels mostly now explained as gnostic christian beliefs which differ entirely to Christianity] and provided a rich amount of history to fill in some of the early history of Christianity… probably not the time or place to discuss right now…)
“This is not the sound of a new man or crispy realization
It’s the sound of the unlocking and the lift away
Your love will be safe with me”
I would like to announce that this story has been written from an idea suggested and gifted to me by Mr. Xajow. He is a talented writer, a well-articulated, thoughtful man and Dominant. His blog contains a variety of topics, if you haven’t already please visit him at Liberate One. On a personal note I would like to sincerely thank Mr. Xajow for his ongoing support, mentorship and for being the one that initially drew my interest to wordpress and blogging.
Please note that this post contains Dominant and submissive themes that may be offensive to some readers and pleasurable for others. This piece is not particularly unsafe for work… yet…
Now, to the story…
The first time he asked me to kneel before him I thought it would be easy. After all, how often had a single look from him brought me to my knees? I remember the first time I felt this desire, before he began training me. Even then he probably saw my desire to submit, saw in my eyes the need to kneel. Since we had just met, it was too soon for me to openly submit to him, and yet, in a way, I did.
After all, these first times were meetings in public places. At the time we met I wasn’t anyone’s submissive. I was too shy for the clubs but I also knew that I didn’t want to just ‘scene’. I wanted to fully submit to a single Dominant. I wanted, needed to serve 24/7. I had tried lesser arrangements and the torture it stirred within me taught me that it was not my way. Nothing less than full commitment was enough to sate the need to serve that burned deep in my soul.
I met him by chance, or perhaps you might call it fate, at an art exhibition entitled ‘Fear and Beauty’. I was lost in an image, a black and white photograph, a nude of a woman in utter uninhibited submission.
She was posed as though she had been ordered to kneel knees spread shoulder width apart and ass resting on her ankles. Then however she had been asked to lean backwards so her upper body was exposed, her head resting lightly on the ground and her arms above her head. Her face was turned toward a low mirror. In the mirrors reflection her face was visible. Her eyes were filled with respect, love and awe as she looks up at her Dominant. Her only adornment is what I would describe as a day collar, a chunky metal chain of heavy links around her delicate neck.
Everything about her pose and facial expression spoke of her absolute, unrestrained submission, the freedom she felt and the sense that her Dominant was a man of integrity because of the deep trust and reverence reflected in her eyes.
I could not look away although I knew I had been blatantly staring at the piece for nearly an hour. Instinctively, I became aware that a man was slowly approaching me. He came to stand near enough behind me that his earthy masculine cologne entered my sensory awareness yet I still couldn’t tear my eyes from the image before me.
His presence made me acutely aware of the awkward way my feet were placed, that my lips were parted and my breath was erratic. Moistening my lips I subtly closed them, adjusting my weight I placed my high-heeled feet more elegantly and let out a sigh that I hoped was not audible.
When he spoke his voice was deep and strong, I felt it vibrate through me as he asked; “what is it about her that captivates you so?” My eyes closed and hands clenched at my side. The answer pounded in my mind but fear gripped me. I felt that my answer was the key that would unlock my deepest desires leaving me unbound, naked and terrified. I couldn’t answer because he was a stranger yet I wanted so desperately to speak the truth not a shallow lie.
He stepped a little closer towards me and spoke again in a deeper more private tone. “Breathe little one, then tell me what it is that captivates you so.”
This command weakened my knees and forced my lips to form the words I both longed and dreaded to utter: “Her submission is perfect, I wish to offer such a gift to one deserving.” The silence although momentary, roared in my ears. I had opened my eyes again and sucked in my breath feeling I had exposed myself in public to a stranger.
Again his deep commanding voice entered my body, “Such a beautiful gift little one, why does it frighten you so?”
I let his words rattle within my mind, he said ‘beautiful gift’. This statement gave me strength. “I fear that what I long for most will never be.” I heard him sigh, like speech and punctuation his breath spoke to me of a similar longing followed by a pause, a semi colon of waiting. I held completely still nearly forgetting to breathe waiting for the rest of his sentence.
“Turn and look at me little one before I ask you to join me for coffee.” He was giving me the indication that it was time to choose whether I was interested in his invitation to speak with him further. I tried to calm the butterfly flurry in my stomach as I turned to meet his gaze. He was taller than I, comfortably so, older than I, comfortably so, his eyes a rich hazel holding wisdom, strength, kindness, intrigue, and distinct, unquestionable Dominance. I bit my lip as I held his gaze, “Well little one, would you care to join me?”
This was the first time I felt the overwhelming urge to kneel before him.
Words errant satiety image Gillian Charters-Barnes Fine Art America