#service

a-submissive-life:

cherished-property:

tobehis:

I had a rough week last week. It was a culmination of several little things, but the biggest thing was an inability to get out of my own head. I struggled with a lack of sleep all week. My brain would not shut off at night to let me rest, and even when I did sleep, my night was covered in anxiety dreams about snakes and teeth falling out. I did the exercise that was required of me, but not with the effort I could have (this is something we’ve been working on in my requirements – pushing myself). Food was okay, but not great. I did not feel like myself, and I was looking forward to seeing Master Friday night.

He did what He could through the week, and as you know, we’re longish (not as far as before, but not in any way to see each other every day by any means) distance, so He talked me through some things in phone calls and messages. I may occasionally feel lonely, but I know I am not alone in this life. But, He can’t fix everything, obviously. I, on the other hand, thought that as soon as I saw Him and I had His hand in mine, that I would be Magically Fixed™ and everything would be better.

Spoiler alert: It didn’t happen that way.

He had a plan for what He thought would get me out of this, about what He could do to let me process things and, frankly, allow me to process pain and use that to break up what’s aching inside me, so He could build me back up. He knows me. I trust Him. This is a strategy that has worked for us before. I even had been telling Him I was needing it. That I needed a pain session and needed Him to break me.

He tied me to a chair. He taped my hands into fists, put the cuffs on, tied my wrists behind my back with them, tied my feet to the legs of the chair, and then put a belt around my chest to hold me back. He tied my head to the chair by my braid plus some rope, and He gagged me severely so no one would hear the inevitable sounds that would come from me. It was the setup to a great scene, a hard scene, but a great scene.

And, then I got angry. Before He even lay a hand on me, I just knew He was going to start torturing my nipples and my brain was screaming, “I DON’T WANT THE NIPPLE PAIN,” and I wanted Him to start with something else, and maybe I didn’t want pain, and haven’t I had a shitty week, and He hasn’t even kissed me yet, and no, I don’t want this. I don’t want this at all, it’s not adding up right in my head.

That all came out, though, as anger. Behind that gag, He says He couldn’t hear 99% percent of what I was saying, but the look in my eyes was anger. At one point it was fear, and then it turned to frustrating, red-hot anger. I wanted out. I wanted let go. I wanted out NOW. I struggled in my bondage. I struggled HARD. I have wrist bruises from how hard I struggled in those cuffs, and our cuffs are scuffed up from the friction I applied to them. He quickly caught the drift behind the angry muffled words and released me from the bondage.

He didn’t grab me and hold me and ask me what was wrong, though, because when He reached over to touch me, I jerked back. I was hot. And He let me steam. My attitude was NOT slave NOR submissive-appropriate, so He made sure I knew He wasn’t mad at me, but He was frustrated and He would let me come to Him when I was ready.

So, I steamed for a bit, and then I felt it starting to crack inside me. My brain wanted something to happen to magically fix everything and it SIMPLY does not work that way. Plus, the man cannot read my mind. But, He knew what I needed, just not how to get me there. Frankly, I’ve been struggling with pain lately – I’ve built up a lot of anxiety around it and adding that to my other anxiety of the week, well. That particular vision for a scene flopped.

I knelt before Him. He wanted me to talk to Him. He just listened as I let the rambling out. I did not feel like myself as I rambled. I admitted some deep frustrations. I admitted some extreme negative thinking. I admitted feeling anger (not at Him, but it came out that way) and anger is not an emotion I deal with often, and it does not set well with me. He let me talk and waited until He saw that I was ready.

And then He bent me over the bed and whipped my back and ass until everything inside me bubbled to the surface. Until the pain festering inside me came to a head and He ripped it out. (Side note, it’s much easier for me to deal with pain to the back of me than the front of me. Spanking is and has been my kink ever since I could fantasize about it, and it tends to be what I crave the most. Front body – breast and nipple play – is one of His favorite kinks and I have evolved to enjoy, and tolerate at best [LOL] that from Him.) He put the pillow in front of me and struck me and talked me through it until I broke into a million pieces.

And then He had me kneel before Him again. He rubbed my back, touching the marks He left, and He let me talk again. He let me sob. He held me and told me to let it out, to lay it at His feet. I bawled and covered His chest, legs, and feet with tears and a snotty nose. And He kissed me anyway. (A man who will kiss you deeply even though you have snot all over your face and you have red puffy eyes is just a beautiful creature to serve and love.) He said, “Mine,” and reminded me that I am collared, cherished, and I have purpose and direction and am not alone in any of this. He built me back up in the ways only He can do. He did not magically fix my anxiety or my worries, but He gave me a safe place to let them out and showed me that He will help direct my steps as long as I follow Him. He showed me how He loves me and I thanked the universe over and over again for this man, for THIS man, and for our relationship and bond.

And, then He bent me back over the bed and fucked my ass until I came down my legs. :-)

There is so much I relate to in this. The desire for it to be Magically Fixed and knowing I need that release. The anger and how it can go wrong sometimes. But there are really two things in here that are key for me when I’m struggling.

First, I need to talk first. I desperately want to skip to the spanking and pain and just cry until I feel cleansed. But I can’t. If I try, it almost always goes wrong. I need to kneel and bury my face in my Owner’s lap. I need to put words to the chaos inside me. Even if my words are clumsy. Even if I don’t know what they are. We have to talk first. With mouth sounds.

Second, when I’m like that, I can’t serve through pain. What I mean is that I can’t take pain that is hard for me. I’m not strong enough. Nipples, thighs, pussy—I enjoy serving through that pain when I feel strong (or tolerate it in the name of service, haha), but I cannot do it when I feel weak. I need steady, thuddy pain. Intense, but in ways I can manage. Because I need release, not struggle. And it’s not about the quantity of pain I feel, but about allowing the pain to release me.

Thank you so much for sharing, @tobehis. What a beautiful story about the reality of power exchange.

THIS is D/s … and this is why it is so much deeper than ‘vanilla’ relationships.

Thank you so much for sharing @tobehis and @cherished-property

Devotional Training.

New service-car.

Master and I are always in the pool. We love it. I find it so relaxing being in the water and then whenever Master is in there with me there’s always the chance of me getting used.
Every time he uses me in the pool I find it so erotic and sexy. There’s just something about him using me in the pool that makes it almost better.

One time master was using me in the pool and a news helicopter was flying above us and it circled three or four times above us until we were done and then Master got me to sit on the pool steps by him and wave at the helicopter. It was AMAZING.

I wish I was more confident and comfortable doing things in public like that with Master. I’m hoping over time I’ll be more comfortable doing sexual acts in public with Master.

bronco-77:

I belive any store will profit from hiring little sluts like this to sell stuff and provide male customers with that little bit of extra service….

neuralnetsandprettypatterns:

I remember when you first saw a slave of mine.

She was serving drinks and pleasuring anyone who asked. It was a great party.

I remember what you muttered underneath your breath to your friend. You didn’t know that I heard you call her trashy.

I heard.

I always remember.

Humility is always an attractive quality. Now that you’re the new slave, you’re going to learn it. A few days of open service at the gas station might teach you to never ever call your sisters trashy again.

(Images sourced from public disgrace. Public BDSM play in reality should always be undertaken with careful safeties and respect for potential vanilla onlookers.)

When we got back downstairs, Boy Genius decided it was time to open the bottle of wine he’d mentioned to me. He poured us each a glass and we sat on his couch, him in his underwear, me completely naked. We talked for a little while, and then he told me all about a book he wants to write/create. It’s a rope guide, of course, and he wants it to be about things people actually do, and wants to make it available for free. He has it all planned out, and is clearly super passionate and excited about it, which is really attractive.

We started cuddling eventually, and he stretched out on the couch and I cuddled up next to him. I started running my fingers through his chest hair, and I told him I liked that he had it. Most of my partners haven’t had it, or at least not much, and while I like that as well, sometimes it can be fun to have something fuzzy to play with like that.

I wanted to do more, but I’m always way more hesitant and uncertain about what to do in situations like that when I’m with a top/dom than I ever was with vanilla partners. With a vanilla partner I might start running my hands along their body, or start kissing them, but with d-types I tend to not do anything unless told otherwise. I was feeling tired of that, and I just plain wanted physical affection, so I simply straight up asked Boy Genius, “How do you like to be touched?”

He smiled at me and said, “Thank you for asking. I’ve noticed a lot of people in the scene don’t touch me.” He sounded a little bit wistful when he said that. It was adorable and kind of sad, at the same time. I know he loves touching and being touched. He said he liked being touched pretty much everywhere and enjoys having his balls played with and getting massages. I started touching him while he told me about how he used to be more of a sensual top when he first started in the scene. That’s definitely a type of play I haven’t been getting, and I very much enjoy the way Boy Genius interacts with me. Even if he may not always be as sensual as he used to be, he was plenty sensual that night.

As part of talking about things he likes, Boy Genius mentioned rimming, saying that he likes receiving it and, sometimes, doing it. We kept cuddling, and I kept touching him, moving my hand lower and starting to stroke his cock, wanting to get him hard, hoping he wanted to fuck me. I started sucking and licking and then he told me that we were going to get in position to 69. I was nervous, since no one had gone down on me in months, and kissed my way up his body before telling him that. He listened and then told me, in a more commanding tone, to get into position

I stopped hesitating, got into the position he’d told me to get into, and started giving him a blowjob. He grabbed my hips and stated licking my pussy, making me moan as he ran his tongue along my slit and focused in on my clit. Then he moved from my cunt to my ass, using his tongue on my hole and making me gasp. He told me to do the same, and I happily did so. I do love using my mouth in every way. Cock, balls, ass, anywhere I can be pleasing. As I licked his ass, he started rubbing my asshole with his finger, pushing it in and out a bit, which made me squirm with pleasure.

“Let’s go upstairs,” he panted out, and we went up to his bed. We’d just made it before coming downstairs. Or, rather, he’d made it. Of course he has a certain way he wants it (rope tops, amirite?), so he basically just made it himself. As he did so, we talked about the fact that service and domestic work haven’t been part of my d/s experience. He finds that interesting, because most of the d/s relationships he’s seen started with that. I’d obviously do those things if someone told me to, but they’re much…softer? kinder? gentler? than the d/s I’ve been doing. I did put the pillowcases on the pillows, since that’s something even I couldn’t fuck up too much, so I contributed a little bit to the making of the bed, at least. And now that we were back upstairs, it was time to unmake the bed.