Captivated

*Mature Content

“Don’t move,” he said, backing slowly away while pulling the camera up to his face, one rugged hand gripping the curve of the case and the other wrapped around the large lens. His thumb and middle finger delicately and  deliberately squeezed and turned, slightly this way and that.

She could hear the friction of his knees against the sheet as he scooted back and forth, positioning himself for each shot, his breath quickening with each movement.

Preventing the usual, “Yes, Sir,” in reply, the ball gag rested snugly between her teeth, wrapping around to clasp tightly on the back of her neck at her hairline. She didn’t even nod in response. She was still. Captivated. Mesmerized by him. All she wanted to do was keep watching him, watching her. Her eyes replied for her.

With a few words or the grip of his hands, he lead her to where he wanted her, and she followed. She moved when he moved her. She shifted with his words. She did anything he wanted.

Every click of the shutter sent a shiver down her spine. She could feel his energy building, an electricity growing. Every so often, she’d catch a glimpse of his eyes and the bulge in the front of his jeans. His hunger was palpable; it emanated from him in waves, making her insides hum and forming goosebumps on the surface of her skin.

Without notice, the world around them melted away. It was only his lens pointing at her, and her looking back. There was no peripheral, no background, no noise in her head. There was no sound, other than his movement and his breathing and his words. Nothing else.

Except for the click, click of his shutter.

-older post reworked a bit and shared as part of Masturbation Monday.


-photo is mine

Jumping In (Our Way)

*MATURE CONTENT 

Several weeks ago, M and I went to our first play party. We had no idea what to expect, aside from the community organization’s description and pics of the space that were offered online. We didn’t know anyone in the community yet; we’d only attended one rope group and nothing else. 

And there’s a lot to consider in deciding to go! How it could potentially impact our lives if we are outed, the exposure and vulnerability in being naked (me) and playing in front of others (us), the trying to make friends, what we expect to get out of it, developing rules and expectations between the two of us beforehand, and so much more. I think one of the biggest things is being unsure about what part of fantasy is meant to become reality and what should remain fantasy. 

We talked so much in the months before going, wrapping our heads around it all. One doesn’t know for certain which is to remain fantasy and what may become reality until one gets out there and begins to experiment…

So we jumped in.

The first play party was overwhelming, in both good and not so good ways. It’s impossible not to have expectations and visions of what it might be like – how it will look and feel, both the physical space as well as the atmosphere, in the group setting, as a couple, and as individuals. We did some reading online, and openly discussed ours beforehand, which was very helpful. 

No matter what sort of talking we did, there  were still a bazillion things to see and hear and take in at once. Above all, right away, it was the most freeing thing to walk into a room with people who are so open and accepting, who celebrate free sexual expression. The apparatus was fantastic as well; there were many stations and endless possibilities. We walked around, looked, and touched it all. We watched others play. It was exciting – an emotional and sensory playground in so many ways. And the single biggest thing I noticed right away is that no one there was body conscious. No one I saw! It was wonderful. The acceptance and freedom was unbelievable.

Other things weren’t so great feeling. The loud techno music was wearing on me after a while. There was also this feeling – a feeling that many interactions were missing a connected, erotic charge. I mean, they were having fun, but it seemed sort of coldish or disconnected in many instances. It also wasn’t very social, in that we didn’t talk to many people. And I hadn’t needed all that lingerie I bought, because most wore street clothes and just took them off to play (bottoms). 

We did not play this time. We watched and talked, and talked and watched. We took it all in.

It took a while to process it all together, and it was pretty overwhelming that night. We were both overflowing with input and measuring what we saw and felt against what we’d expected, as well as how the atmosphere and experiences could possibly meet our needs and desires.

After a lot of talking, we knew we wanted to go again. We knew some of the things we didn’t love or had perceived the way we did had to do with our own expectations and notions, and by filtering it all through our own narrow filters. We saw acceptance in ourselves. We saw possibility, in many forms. 

A couple weeks later we went again. The second time was much different; we knew better what to expect, and having processed the input as well as possible, we could process more in the moment. Some of the off things that we felt the first time, we didn’t as much the second time, and that probably had to do with not being so inundated with new feelings and information all at once, every single second!

There was a warmer atmosphere, but there were also fewer people, which was nice. The interactions didn’t feel so cold in many instances, and that was partly because we adjusted our perceptions. There will always be some people who are there to play who seek connections in much different ways than what we have or want. There are people into all sorts of things, free to experiment and live out their desires. That is the beauty of being in an accepting environment, having the freedom to do just that! I even wore something on top that was revealing by my standards and felt (mostly) comfortable! 

After being there for a while, talking to a couple people, and watching some play, M decided we’d play. He chose a spanking bench, which was a beautifully crafted and comfortable piece of wooden furniture with pads.

M was pleasantly surprised at how easily I stripped off my clothes and was ready for him as he unpacked his bag. He buckled on my collar, told me he loved me and asked if I was ready. Although I was a bit nervous, I was ready. Very much so.

It was intense and surreal. Tiring and exhilarating.

Although I didn’t register it fully in the moment, a small cluster of people gathered near our bench to talk and watch. We played hard and connected like we always do. The change of venue didn’t inhibit that at all. 

It was unbelievable. 

Our community has a party every month, and we are going again next weekend. He intends to play again. Woot woot! 

It’s so freaking exciting to be traveling this journey with M! We don’t know exactly where we are heading, but that’s half the fun. We are enjoying the ride!

-image found via google images, free getty images

 
 

Your Wings…

For fifteen years,
You gave your all
Refused to quit,
Refused to fall

You used your voice,
Created opportunity
Helped so many,
And built community

Authentic and honest,
They counted on you
To weather the storms,
To lead them through

Friends were made,
You touched their hearts
Leaving a piece behind,
When you part

Now, into your box,
Go more than things
They are promises you made,
The ideas with wings

That’ll carry you on,
To this new endeavor 
I’ll be the wind beneath them, 
We’ll fly on forever

Today is M’s last day at a place he’s been for 15 years. He’s gonna kick ass at the new one!

Shakin’ My Ass

Dancing has always made me self conscious. I was never terrible at it, but I loathed the thought of drawing attention to myself; I just wanted to blend in, to not be noticed. Even with M, I was self conscious, and even more so when I gained weight. Other than slow dancing, I think we’ve only danced together maybe two or three times in 22 years.

But there’s this song I just heard for the first time a few weeks ago.

One night recently, it was on our playlist during some intimate time. After some whip and cane impact, M covered me with his body as I lay on my belly. He was propped up on his arms, pinning my hair to the bed with his forearms, making it almost impossible for me to move, but when this song came on (and I rarely hear the music), it gripped me! The sultry tune draws me in every time.

I moved my hips and whispered the words to his lips next to mine. I’m not even sure how I know the words, they must have stuck from the first time I heard it.

It’s been stuck in my head for days at a time and even visited my dreams, it seems, because I’ve woken up singing it. And last week, I played that same playlist while I was in the kitchen making soup, and I just felt it. I closed my eyes and moved my hips, I swayed and I moved…and all I could think about is how fucking sexy he makes me feel, how deep in my bones and throughout whole my soul this love is. I moved, and got goosebumps. It gripped me again, this song.

When I hear it, I imagine our two bodies moving slowly to its tempo, two as one warm, flowing fluid, permeating and intoxicating, just like the liquor about which they sing. I feel the heat between us, I see the passion in his eyes. I see white-knuckled fingers, trails of wetness, and teeth sinking in.

And I move my body, effortlessly. For whatever reason, this song has helped me to further break the self-conscious barrier and truly remind me of the confidence which M helps to instill in me, confidence in myself and confidence in us.

That day I danced in the kitchen, I captured it on video for M. Nothing special, just me moving as I do when I hear this song, thinking of him, being me. Then I sent it to him at work.

My M praises me all the time. He thanks me, tells me I’m sexy and beautiful, and makes sure I know he appreciates the things I do. And over the last few years, I’ve begun to truly internalize those things. It’s not that I never felt I had worth, but his support and honest expressions of truth have helped me to see with more clarity and BELIEVE him. To better see my value, to feel my worth, and to see myself through his eyes.

I’ve gone from being so self conscious that I often wished I was invisible, (despite my outer hard shell), to feeling happy to be seen…as me. Even in the bedroom, I’m less inclined to have my attention pulled away with concern about how I must look in this position or that. I’ve enthusiastically participated in him taking photos of me and willingly (and even deviously) sent him photos.

And then, I danced for him and sent him that video. He was so pleased, but not just because he thought my body looked sexy – he was truly pleased with my confidence. My confidence IS SEXY! I see it in his eyes, and I know how much it pleases him.

So, tonight for his birthday, I’m gonna play that song and shake my ass for him in person. I’m gonna show him just how he makes me feel.

Confident. Sexy. HIS.

In His Eyes

image

I’m not a girly girl, I never really have been. I’m just not a gal who has ever spent a ton of time on hair or nails, clothes and other feminine endeavors. I’m a fairly practical gal. Simple in my style.

Over the years, especially in the last few, I’ve appreciated more the simple ways in which I feel more feminine, things that don’t take a lot of time or effort. Things M notices and appreciates. Painting my toes, growing my nails, letting my hair go long, clothes that accentuate my curves, smelling pretty. All things which also help me feel a small boost in confidence.

Aside from a handful of pretty underthings and one nightie, I’ve never owned lingerie. M hasn’t ever expressed an interest really, so it seemed a waste of money. He’s always expressed an interest in and admired my simple nakedness, until recently.

A few weeks ago, M asked me to buy a corset. He told me I’m a sexy woman and he wants to see me feel as sexy as he sees me. He knows I’m self conscious and even more so because of the skin. So many thoughts began to swirl around in my brain…..nervousness and anxiety about the shopping experience and about looking at myself, wondering if I could ever be without disappointment, fear of disappointing him. But, the prevailing thought was that he likes to look at me. He thinks I’m sexy, inside and out.  He cares about how I see myself, he cares about how I feel about myself. So, I bought a corset.

Then, I bought stockings and heels and practiced walking in them. I did my nails and shaped my eyebrows. Today, I’ll groom my body the way he likes, as always. I’ll smell pretty and have simple makeup on. But, the most important thing I’ll be wearing, is humble confidence. I want him to see how much his view of me effects me. I know, without a doubt, he thinks I’m sexy. So, sexy I’ll be.

I Submit

I submit because it is who I am.

I submit because I am strong enough.

I submit because I am not ashamed.

I submit because it binds together all the parts of me – mind, body and soul.

I submit because he knew when I did not.

I submit because he saw when I did not.

I submit because he waited.

I submit because he deserves it.

I submit because I am worthy.

I submit because he still knows when I do not.

I submit because he still sees when I do not.

I submit because he chooses me.

I submit because he completes me.

I submit because he inspires me.

I submit because he makes me a better person.

I submit because it makes us whole.

I submit because it is who I am.

Letting Go

Once:
Where my body was once cold it is warmed, his skin on mine, moving into me. I want to feel, let my body go but my mind is reeling, all the things I want to do and say bursting into me, stuffed away, I can’t. This barrier I’ve built is strong, too strong for me today, right here with him. I should, I want to, but I can’t. He moves slowly, deliberately, his body desperate to tell me I’m worthy, I’m his. His eyes seek mine, and it’s then I know…..it’s me, just me. His eyes are a reflection of me. They threaten to show me all I’m holding onto, all that’s holding me (us) back, and I cannot see, will not see. I look away, head turned, eyes closed tight, suffocating, punishing. I can’t.
Now:
Where my body was once cold it is warmed, his skin on mine, moving into me. Even the slightest touch, a simple graze of his skin on mine sends pulses through me, awakening every inch of my skin and invading every thought. My mind is calm, focused, wanting and eager. Once-trapped words come spilling out, my body moves with his, craves him, with no worries, no embarrassment, only the need to please. I hear his body, all he’s been trying to say and I waste no more time allowing my body to release all I’ve needed to say to his, all it’s been holding onto. Our eyes meet, deliberately, my climax his gift and my eyes an offering, a yielding, acceptance.
My bed was once a place of insecurities, doubt, guilt and even shame. I shut him out, wanted him to read my mind, wished I could simply let go and say and do the things I wanted to say and do. There was no eye contact, no words, there was embarrassment and fear. It didn’t begin this way all those years ago, I let it become this way. It was me. My heart was the same sort of place. It had a barrier too.
I wrote the post above even before we began incorporating any of the D/s dynamic. Our communication in and out of the bedroom had been improving drastically over the past couple years, but there were still things I was holding onto. Irrational, negative things. So, when I wrote this, I was thinking about the moment over the summer when I just decided to leap, to change, to try to be happy, to sustain it. I had decided to let go of all that stuff, to never shut him out again, to be available, to allow myself to need him, tell him so, show him, prove myself to him and enjoy him. Thank god, there’s a lot to enjoy and not just in the bedroom.
Since we’ve incorporated the D/s dynamic, things have further changed. There is a deeper closeness that’s difficult to describe. There exists a deeper understanding, a deeper connection, a deeper appreciation for every single look, movement, touch, taste, breath, intention and action. It’s an intensity that exists in every single experience, every single day, in and out of the bedroom. This isn’t static, we will grow and change and evolve, we’re new to this. I sometimes still have problems getting out of my head. In the bedroom we’ve tried some things we’ve loved and others not so much. Outside the bedroom, we stumble, sometimes we fall. Either way, we work it out, we still trust this, trust in us.