Archive for May, 2009
That’s how long until my Master comes to visit. It’s been less than a month since our last visit, but that was a very long and very special visit, and so we’ve both been missing each other a lot since then. Add to that the tremendous amount of personal stress that’s going on in my life, and right now it feels like one of the chief things helping me keep it all together is knowing that in 35 hours i’ll have His arms around me.
And within some short period of time after that, hopefully i’ll look like i do in the picture up above – legs spread, skirt pulled up, panties pushed aside, and come dripping from my well used cunt.
Tropical vacation. Sex all day. Cute resort clothes and shoes, form fitting and brightly colored. Not much in the way of tourist distractions, so You don’t feel pulled between doing things and doing me. You spank me every day, not because i’ve done anything wrong, but just because You want to, and because it adds structure and rhythm to my days, which helps me fall deeper into serving You. It’s normal time, but better, because our distractions are few and we can focus entirely on one another. You establish a protocol You expect me to follow, meting out punishment if i make mistakes. At first i strain against what seems capricious and meaningless, but over the course of the week i let go of control and just do, just submit, finding meaning in that meaninglessness.
We’re out for a walk. i’m wearing a short skirt and stiletto heels. There are lots of stairs where we’re walking, and You let me go up first so You can stay behind to watch me as i climb. We get to the top of one set of stairs and we see a little garden – it’s walled in and isolated, and the house that’s next to it is obviously vacant. After watching me walk and hearing the click click of my shoes on the stone steps You need me right then and there. You push open the gate to the garden and lead me through. You push me down to kneel on the grass in front of You and i suck Your cock like an obedient slavegirl until You come in my mouth.
i’ve long thought that for all our use of terms like Master and slavegirl, our D/s relationship has more in common with Daddy/girl than traditional D/s. My Master really enjoys taking care of and pampering me, and and i enjoy being taken care of and pampered. But the few times i’d tried calling him Daddy just left me cold, or even a little squicked.
Traveling overseas alone (we took separate flights and met there) was stressful for me. Being in a city with different customs and language, also stressful. Exciting, of course, but as a control freak, i get very uncomfortable when i feel out of control of my environment. Combine that with losing a night’s sleep and jet lag, and i was feeling really fragile at the beginning of our stay.
My Master is an experienced world traveller. He’d been to Paris many times before. It was wonderful to have Him there to take care of me, to answer the questions in French i didn’t understand, to show me what to do, to solve all the problems for us.
i didn’t realize how my feeling fragile would translate to our relationship until we were in the middle of sex and i found myself calling Him Daddy. Suddenly, i realized that i was feeling like nothing more than a little girl facing a strange new world, and i knew that He was my Daddy and would take care of me. It was so relieving, to recognize and acknowledge that shift in roles.
Thankfully, He recognized and acknowledged it too, picked up on what i needed, and intensified it. He made me say it over and over again as He fucked me:
“Please fuck me Daddy.”
“Please fuck your little girl.”
“i need to be your little girl, Daddy.”
“i need my Daddy to fuck me.”
“Oh Daddy…. thank You, Daddy”
With every utterance of that forbidden word, i felt safer and safer. i knew i would be taken care of. Unlike the times i’d played at this before, this time there was no akwardness. Instead, it came completely naturally, and filled this need that i hadn’t clearly identifed and didn’t even know needed filling.
After a couple of days in Paris my feelings of being a little girl went away, and so did He as my Daddy, since i didn’t need Him anymore. We didn’t talk about it – it was just organic, a natural ebb and flow of a new dimension of our relationship.
“Send me a one-paragraph fantasy,” He writes. “Do it now.”
i’m thinking about sucking Your cock in front of a big crowd of people. One hand tugging on Your balls, the other on Your shaft, as my mouth moves up and down and my tongue licks Your head. i know there are people around, and it arouses me, but at the same time i’m trying to be utterly focused on what i’m doing, on You and Your reactions to what i’m doing. i taste the difference in Your secretions, and i know You’re going to come, so i grip my hand harder around the base of Your cock and then i feel Your come pulsing past my hand even before it hits the back of my throat. i pull off a little bit to swallow so i don’t gag, but i don’t take my mouth or hands off Your cock so that i can feel all Your delicious aftershocks.
My Master and i spent a week together, and it was a truly lovely time. Sad, a little bit, because between passing the travel test and our longest visit ever, it seems we probably could manage quite nicely living together, and that’s never going to happen.
But it was a glorious time. Our D/s interaction was actually pretty minimal, but Paris in the springtime was a pretty big distraction! And i never forgot that i am His submissive slavegirl, even as we walked arm in arm along the Champs-Elysee. i was reminded every morning as He pushed me down between His legs to wake Him up with a blow job. And every evening, as He’d dress me for dinner, then tell me to get to the edge of the bed and spread my legs for Him so He could fuck me in my dinner dress. So that every time He’d look across the table at me, He’d remember what i looked like as He fucked my eager slavegirl cunt.
Thank You, Sir, for everything.