I approach Him from behind. He sits at the table facing away from me. He is preoccupied by what he is reading. He is not paying attention to me right now.
I creep up behind him, slowly. I pause for a moment to stare at the back of his neck above his collar. I am drawn to this exposed piece of skin.
I lean down and gently brush my lips against the back of his neck. He shudders, raising his shoulders slightly before sighing and leaning back against me. I snake my arms around his shoulders and bury my face in the back of his neck.
As I nuzzle his neck, I breathe him in. I take deep breaths and hold his scent in my nose for as long as I can. I want to remember his scent, I want to carry it with me when I have to go out into the world without him.
He touches my arms lightly and brings me around to sit on his lap. I sink against him as he sighs, "My little Kitten." I rest my head against his shoulder and close my eyes as he cradles me in his arms.
I am not sleepy, but I find myself drifting away as he rocks me back and forth in his arms. We are quiet, for the moment.
Showing posts with label littleness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label littleness. Show all posts
Bedtime
We were discussing the things that others do - comparing a bit, wondering what motivated others in their particular kink. It was an idle conversation. I mentioned quietly that some girls have bedtimes and that, come to think of it, I would like a bedtime since I struggle with regulating my own sleep schedule. He picked up on it right away, and a passing comment turned into so much more.
Later that night, he tucked me into bed with a whole new set of bedtime rules. He explained that I would have to be in bed by 11:30 pm on weekdays. I will have no set bedtime on weekends unless I have an early morning obligation, in which case He will determine my bedtime. On nights when we are apart, I can talk to him on the phone past 11:30 pm, but I must be in bed. He will try not to keep me up on the phone past that time and I should be making an effort from 11:30 pm on to get to sleep.
As he laid out the rules for me, I snuggled deeper under the blankets. I happily squirmed a bit, feeling loved and controlled. He would take care of me. He would make sure that I got enough sleep. He would look out for his little girl.
When he was finished, he picked up my book of short stories and started to read. His voice was calm and deep; he read slowly and with great inflection. The light in my bedroom was dim and I soon found my eyelids to be very heavy. I would just close my eyes and listen to the story, I thought. But before I knew it, I had drifted off to sleep completely, lulled by his voice and the wonderful warm feeling of being owned.
I awoke briefly as he put the book down and tucked the blankets around me before shutting off the bedside lamp. I heard the door click shut before I slipped deep into sleep.
Later that night, he tucked me into bed with a whole new set of bedtime rules. He explained that I would have to be in bed by 11:30 pm on weekdays. I will have no set bedtime on weekends unless I have an early morning obligation, in which case He will determine my bedtime. On nights when we are apart, I can talk to him on the phone past 11:30 pm, but I must be in bed. He will try not to keep me up on the phone past that time and I should be making an effort from 11:30 pm on to get to sleep.
As he laid out the rules for me, I snuggled deeper under the blankets. I happily squirmed a bit, feeling loved and controlled. He would take care of me. He would make sure that I got enough sleep. He would look out for his little girl.
When he was finished, he picked up my book of short stories and started to read. His voice was calm and deep; he read slowly and with great inflection. The light in my bedroom was dim and I soon found my eyelids to be very heavy. I would just close my eyes and listen to the story, I thought. But before I knew it, I had drifted off to sleep completely, lulled by his voice and the wonderful warm feeling of being owned.
I awoke briefly as he put the book down and tucked the blankets around me before shutting off the bedside lamp. I heard the door click shut before I slipped deep into sleep.
Doms Are Human Too
Thank you all for your concern and comments on my last post. Thankfully, this rough patch seems to be drawing to a close. He and I are in contact again and are on our way back. I would have liked to think that I didn't care what happened to him because I was being neglected to an extent, but that's not true. I care about him so much, all the time, and I want to know how to serve him no matter what the circumstances.
I don't think a D/s relationship is different than any other relationship when there is real world stress to deal with. We have to stick together and continue to communicate during the tough times. We have to lean on each other, which may be more difficult for a Dom to do, but it is the only way. I hope that he knows now that I will always love, respect and worship him, even if he shows his more vulnerable side.
As for what this has meant for my submission...well, it has been a bit surprising. There have been times in the past when I thought that I was completely independent and that to be without him would be a possibility for me. Realistically, I thought that I could go on and still be myself. I think about how, a year and a half ago, I left my previous (vanilla) relationship with my head held high. I was myself and I could walk away. I packed up my things and started a new life for myself, by myself.
I no longer think that way. I know that to be released from Him would be disastrous for me in so many ways. I realized that as I laid in bed the other night, unable to sleep because I had not heard his voice all day. I cried those frustrated tears of a child who is without her parent and is scared of being alone. I remember that feeling from my childhood. The memory of that feeling is so strong inside of me, even now. Maybe that is my first memory, alone in the hospital without my parents, without anyone.
When I finally talked to him yesterday, I wasn't mad. I didn't hold one ounce of anger inside of me. I just broke down and admitted a very scary thing to him - that I need him completely and that I cannot go on without him. I told him how small being alone made me feel, and that I needed him to take care of me to some extent even when he was having trouble. In times of crisis, I will still submit to him as I am able and he still must take care of me as he is able.
I hope that all of this means increased connectedness for us, but only time will tell. I want nothing more than to be by his side and to be his little girl again. I want to hear him call me Kitten and to kneel at his feet. I'm his, for as long as he'll have me.
I don't think a D/s relationship is different than any other relationship when there is real world stress to deal with. We have to stick together and continue to communicate during the tough times. We have to lean on each other, which may be more difficult for a Dom to do, but it is the only way. I hope that he knows now that I will always love, respect and worship him, even if he shows his more vulnerable side.
As for what this has meant for my submission...well, it has been a bit surprising. There have been times in the past when I thought that I was completely independent and that to be without him would be a possibility for me. Realistically, I thought that I could go on and still be myself. I think about how, a year and a half ago, I left my previous (vanilla) relationship with my head held high. I was myself and I could walk away. I packed up my things and started a new life for myself, by myself.
I no longer think that way. I know that to be released from Him would be disastrous for me in so many ways. I realized that as I laid in bed the other night, unable to sleep because I had not heard his voice all day. I cried those frustrated tears of a child who is without her parent and is scared of being alone. I remember that feeling from my childhood. The memory of that feeling is so strong inside of me, even now. Maybe that is my first memory, alone in the hospital without my parents, without anyone.
When I finally talked to him yesterday, I wasn't mad. I didn't hold one ounce of anger inside of me. I just broke down and admitted a very scary thing to him - that I need him completely and that I cannot go on without him. I told him how small being alone made me feel, and that I needed him to take care of me to some extent even when he was having trouble. In times of crisis, I will still submit to him as I am able and he still must take care of me as he is able.
I hope that all of this means increased connectedness for us, but only time will tell. I want nothing more than to be by his side and to be his little girl again. I want to hear him call me Kitten and to kneel at his feet. I'm his, for as long as he'll have me.
A Sadist's Lullabye
I held the phone in the dark. He cooed into my ear as I fell asleep:
I want to see you laying on the floor in front of me. I want to see that frightened look in your eyes.
I want to pick you up and toss you onto the bed like a rag doll.
When you begin to struggle and pull away, I want to slap you once, hard. I want you to know that it is pointless to fight me.
I want to hogtie you. I want your ankles and wrists bound together in the air. I want you completely helpless.
I want you to feel vulnerable as I stand over you. I want to see your cunt dripping with your fear.
I want to take you, any way I want, over and over. I want to use all of your holes. I want you completely open to me.
I want to see the resignation in your eyes when you realize that I can do anything to you.
I want to come all over your face. I want my come to dry on your lips. I want to leave you there, tasting me on your tongue.
Now, little Kitten. Time for bed.
Go to sleep like a good little girl and dream of all that I have planned for you. There's so much more than you even know.
I want to see you laying on the floor in front of me. I want to see that frightened look in your eyes.
I want to pick you up and toss you onto the bed like a rag doll.
When you begin to struggle and pull away, I want to slap you once, hard. I want you to know that it is pointless to fight me.
I want to hogtie you. I want your ankles and wrists bound together in the air. I want you completely helpless.
I want you to feel vulnerable as I stand over you. I want to see your cunt dripping with your fear.
I want to take you, any way I want, over and over. I want to use all of your holes. I want you completely open to me.
I want to see the resignation in your eyes when you realize that I can do anything to you.
I want to come all over your face. I want my come to dry on your lips. I want to leave you there, tasting me on your tongue.
Now, little Kitten. Time for bed.
Go to sleep like a good little girl and dream of all that I have planned for you. There's so much more than you even know.
What He Took
He was stroking my hair as I laid next to him. My breathing had just returned to normal after what I had told him. I felt a bit hollowed out, although I didn't know what was yet to come. I didn't know just how empty I would become.
I felt him lift his head off of the pillow and I did the same in response. I looked at him with a silent question in my eyes. "Go get it," he whispered. I frowned and paused, hesitant to get up. "Go now," he said more loudly and with a smack to my ass for emphasis. I pouted but soon scooted off to the other room.
When I came back into the room, my hands were behind my back. "What do you have there?," he asked quietly. He kept using this creepy, soft voice that was probably meant to lull me into a sense of calm but instead made me even more apprehensive.
"A bottle," I mumbled.
"A bottle of what?," he led.
"A bottle of stuff," I sassed, giggling at my pathetic attempt at avoidance.
He grabbed the front of my bra and pulled me to the ground in front of him. "This isn't a joke, little girl. Tell me what you're holding."
I looked at the ground. "An enema, sir."
"That's right. And where am I going to put it?"
"In my ass," I mumbled.
He put me over his knee, but not before he offered me my favorite stuffed animal to hold. I cried into the plush fur of the animal as he put me into position, overwhelmed by my littleness and the humiliation of what he was about to do to me. He held me close to him as he squeezed the liquid into me. His palm was resting on my back and he massaged me in slow circles.
I wanted to leave right away. I wanted to keep my head low and to flee the room immediately. But he was watching the clock and he made me stay. He held me firmly in place, no matter how much I whined or pleaded. I found it easier to bear the wait if I stayed still and breathed slowly. He smoothed down my hair and rubbed my back as he held me down. I sniffled a little bit from time to time, but the sudden crying that came from that place of disbelief of what he was about to do had passed.
I waited forever. His voice was so kind as he told me that I had to wait just a little longer, that no, it was not time to go yet. He said these things as if they were out of his control, as if there was no helping how long he was making me wait. And I believed him.
I know now that he did not have to make me wait a proscribed period of time and that he was delaying just because he could. I know rationally in my mind now that my discomfort was his pleasure and this was all about trust and my training. But at that moment? I felt like a little child, railing against the unfair imposition of a harsh rule. The strange thing was that, again in that moment, I identified with him. He was on my side. He didn't want to make me wait; he just had to.
And even stranger, the whole thing started to feel a little hot. His hand on my back and his soothing voice, the anticipation and the slight flush at my cheeks. This was complete and total control over my body. I didn't have anything left that he didn't control now. This was ownership and domination, the most invasive kind. Every part of me belonged to him and he could dictate my every inner working. There was no part of me that didn't belong to him.
He let me go and I rushed off with a sense of relief. While I was gone, I wondered what he must think of me now. What could he possibly think now that I let him do this to me?
When I walked back into the bedroom, he looked at me with a serious expression on his face. "Now there's nothing between us, Kitten." After what I had told him just before, this felt like so much, all at one time. I was exposed to him like never before. I laid down next to him, touching his face with my fingertips. He pulled me to him and I swear we melted together. We were the same person. There was nothing between us, no secrets, nothing we didn't share. Everything about me is a part of him. I closed my eyes and cuddled closer.
I felt him lift his head off of the pillow and I did the same in response. I looked at him with a silent question in my eyes. "Go get it," he whispered. I frowned and paused, hesitant to get up. "Go now," he said more loudly and with a smack to my ass for emphasis. I pouted but soon scooted off to the other room.
When I came back into the room, my hands were behind my back. "What do you have there?," he asked quietly. He kept using this creepy, soft voice that was probably meant to lull me into a sense of calm but instead made me even more apprehensive.
"A bottle," I mumbled.
"A bottle of what?," he led.
"A bottle of stuff," I sassed, giggling at my pathetic attempt at avoidance.
He grabbed the front of my bra and pulled me to the ground in front of him. "This isn't a joke, little girl. Tell me what you're holding."
I looked at the ground. "An enema, sir."
"That's right. And where am I going to put it?"
"In my ass," I mumbled.
He put me over his knee, but not before he offered me my favorite stuffed animal to hold. I cried into the plush fur of the animal as he put me into position, overwhelmed by my littleness and the humiliation of what he was about to do to me. He held me close to him as he squeezed the liquid into me. His palm was resting on my back and he massaged me in slow circles.
I wanted to leave right away. I wanted to keep my head low and to flee the room immediately. But he was watching the clock and he made me stay. He held me firmly in place, no matter how much I whined or pleaded. I found it easier to bear the wait if I stayed still and breathed slowly. He smoothed down my hair and rubbed my back as he held me down. I sniffled a little bit from time to time, but the sudden crying that came from that place of disbelief of what he was about to do had passed.
I waited forever. His voice was so kind as he told me that I had to wait just a little longer, that no, it was not time to go yet. He said these things as if they were out of his control, as if there was no helping how long he was making me wait. And I believed him.
I know now that he did not have to make me wait a proscribed period of time and that he was delaying just because he could. I know rationally in my mind now that my discomfort was his pleasure and this was all about trust and my training. But at that moment? I felt like a little child, railing against the unfair imposition of a harsh rule. The strange thing was that, again in that moment, I identified with him. He was on my side. He didn't want to make me wait; he just had to.
And even stranger, the whole thing started to feel a little hot. His hand on my back and his soothing voice, the anticipation and the slight flush at my cheeks. This was complete and total control over my body. I didn't have anything left that he didn't control now. This was ownership and domination, the most invasive kind. Every part of me belonged to him and he could dictate my every inner working. There was no part of me that didn't belong to him.
He let me go and I rushed off with a sense of relief. While I was gone, I wondered what he must think of me now. What could he possibly think now that I let him do this to me?
When I walked back into the bedroom, he looked at me with a serious expression on his face. "Now there's nothing between us, Kitten." After what I had told him just before, this felt like so much, all at one time. I was exposed to him like never before. I laid down next to him, touching his face with my fingertips. He pulled me to him and I swear we melted together. We were the same person. There was nothing between us, no secrets, nothing we didn't share. Everything about me is a part of him. I closed my eyes and cuddled closer.
Worship
We were sitting on the couch on Sunday morning enjoying a leisurely cup of coffee. Actually, I think it was afternoon because we had spent most of the morning in bed. In any case, we were drinking coffee in our pj's. I was still a little sleepy.
"Mmm...Kitten, you look so delicious this morning," He cooed. I blushed and looked down. My hair was rumpled and I wasn't wearing any make-up. No way I looked "delicious"!
He took my coffee cup from me and set it down on the coffee table. I thought he was going to pull me to him, but instead he pushed me to the floor at his feet.
"Kitten, show me," he said. I looked up at him with a question in my eyes. "How much you worship me. Show me," he whispered as he stood up in front of me.
I leaned forward and pressed my forehead against the tops of his feet. I ran my hands up his legs, caressing his calves, then his thighs. I kissed his feet lightly and swept my hair across them. I felt him shiver.
"Get lower, down," he hissed as he pressed his palm against my back. He pulled my nightgown up so he could see my ass as I knelt before him with my cheek on the floor between his feet. "Good Kitten. You're right where you belong - on the floor at my feet."
I closed my eyes as a feeling of great calm washed over me. I don't know how long I I knelt there, touching him softly with my fingertips and lightly kissing his feet. At one point, he lifted me up to sit on his lap on the couch. I curled into his body as he slid his hand up under my nightgown. He fingered me gently and I sighed into his shoulder. In my heart, I was still at his feet.
"Mmm...Kitten, you look so delicious this morning," He cooed. I blushed and looked down. My hair was rumpled and I wasn't wearing any make-up. No way I looked "delicious"!
He took my coffee cup from me and set it down on the coffee table. I thought he was going to pull me to him, but instead he pushed me to the floor at his feet.
"Kitten, show me," he said. I looked up at him with a question in my eyes. "How much you worship me. Show me," he whispered as he stood up in front of me.
I leaned forward and pressed my forehead against the tops of his feet. I ran my hands up his legs, caressing his calves, then his thighs. I kissed his feet lightly and swept my hair across them. I felt him shiver.
"Get lower, down," he hissed as he pressed his palm against my back. He pulled my nightgown up so he could see my ass as I knelt before him with my cheek on the floor between his feet. "Good Kitten. You're right where you belong - on the floor at my feet."
I closed my eyes as a feeling of great calm washed over me. I don't know how long I I knelt there, touching him softly with my fingertips and lightly kissing his feet. At one point, he lifted me up to sit on his lap on the couch. I curled into his body as he slid his hand up under my nightgown. He fingered me gently and I sighed into his shoulder. In my heart, I was still at his feet.
Silence
I was on my hands and knees in the living room. He was behind me, thrusting into me roughly. I moaned loudly.
"Stop it, Kitten." I whimpered in protest, but he was having none of it. "Your job is to stay still and shut the fuck up." He pulled roughly back on my hair. "You're not that independent girl when you're here with me. Right now your job is what?"
"To keep still," I muttered.
"And?," he prompted.
"To shut the fuck up," I said reluctantly. He kept fucking me, harder and harder. I kept quiet and bit back my moans.
"Do you want to come, little Kitten?"
I was afraid to say anything so I just nodded feverishly. I was so close to exploding.
"You can come. Come for me, little girl, come for me." That was all it took. I came long and hard and with great intensity.
He picked me up off of the floor and marched me into the bedroom. I stayed quiet while he took me again and again. I know my place.
"Stop it, Kitten." I whimpered in protest, but he was having none of it. "Your job is to stay still and shut the fuck up." He pulled roughly back on my hair. "You're not that independent girl when you're here with me. Right now your job is what?"
"To keep still," I muttered.
"And?," he prompted.
"To shut the fuck up," I said reluctantly. He kept fucking me, harder and harder. I kept quiet and bit back my moans.
"Do you want to come, little Kitten?"
I was afraid to say anything so I just nodded feverishly. I was so close to exploding.
"You can come. Come for me, little girl, come for me." That was all it took. I came long and hard and with great intensity.
He picked me up off of the floor and marched me into the bedroom. I stayed quiet while he took me again and again. I know my place.
Comfort
There is this feeling when He is fucking me hard and overwhelming me with sensation. It starts as a quiet hum in my head as he throws me around and starts to slap my face. It increases to a roar as the belt comes down and I dissolve into tears. I am incapable of rational thought at that point, my mind is a mess of chaos. All I can do is act on pure instinct - to scramble away, turn my face, flinch at the sight of his palm.
That instinct, however, is muddled by my love for him and the protector role that he fulfills in my life. He hits me and I am immediately pulled in two directions at once - run or turn to Him for comfort. I don't know which to do, or even whether he will offer me his shoulder to curl upon on from one moment to the next. But when I reach the overload point, the point where I am afraid that I will shatter, the little girl inside of me just wants him to save me, save me from the mean man, save me from Him.
Recently, He pinned me underneath him and hoisted my legs up on his shoulders. My head was hanging off the edge of the bed. The blood was rushing to my head, the white noise in my mind was almost deafening. He noticed that I was holding onto the sheets underneath him to keep my position and he demanded that I let go.
My arms flailed in space. He gripped me by the neck, simultaneously hold me in place and choking me. My body was numb from the sensation of him fucking me furiously. It didn't hurt anymore. Everything was white. If I cried out at that moment, the sound came from my most primal, unconscious place.
I reached back and felt the floor with my fingertips. I don't know what I was trying to do, but my fingers fell on the leg of my favorite stuffed animal - a pink stuffed pig that I sleep with every night when he is not with me. I gripped the animal tightly in my hand as assaulted my body, eventually dragging the animal closer so that I could touch it with both hands. My eyes were closed. I was whispering to myself, repeating the word "Daddy" over and over again in some sort of bizarre mantra or request for reprieve.
When he saw that I was clutching the stuffed animal, he relented. He lifted me back up onto the bed and held me. "That's enough for now, " he whispered, "Good girl." He was once again my protector. I held onto him for comfort and he brought me back down to earth.
That instinct, however, is muddled by my love for him and the protector role that he fulfills in my life. He hits me and I am immediately pulled in two directions at once - run or turn to Him for comfort. I don't know which to do, or even whether he will offer me his shoulder to curl upon on from one moment to the next. But when I reach the overload point, the point where I am afraid that I will shatter, the little girl inside of me just wants him to save me, save me from the mean man, save me from Him.
Recently, He pinned me underneath him and hoisted my legs up on his shoulders. My head was hanging off the edge of the bed. The blood was rushing to my head, the white noise in my mind was almost deafening. He noticed that I was holding onto the sheets underneath him to keep my position and he demanded that I let go.
My arms flailed in space. He gripped me by the neck, simultaneously hold me in place and choking me. My body was numb from the sensation of him fucking me furiously. It didn't hurt anymore. Everything was white. If I cried out at that moment, the sound came from my most primal, unconscious place.
I reached back and felt the floor with my fingertips. I don't know what I was trying to do, but my fingers fell on the leg of my favorite stuffed animal - a pink stuffed pig that I sleep with every night when he is not with me. I gripped the animal tightly in my hand as assaulted my body, eventually dragging the animal closer so that I could touch it with both hands. My eyes were closed. I was whispering to myself, repeating the word "Daddy" over and over again in some sort of bizarre mantra or request for reprieve.
When he saw that I was clutching the stuffed animal, he relented. He lifted me back up onto the bed and held me. "That's enough for now, " he whispered, "Good girl." He was once again my protector. I held onto him for comfort and he brought me back down to earth.
Daddy, Part II
He took me to the bathroom so that I could pee for him. He knows how very vulnerable, how small, that makes me feel. He loves that feeling of benign power and trust and honesty between us when I'm feeling small and calling him Daddy.
Our Daddy/little girl dynamic is so interesting to me. It was a longtime fantasy of mine, one that I was hesitant to share with him. But once I did, it fit perfectly into what we already were doing. He always made me feel like he was taking care of me, whether he was pampering me or cruelly hurting me. Now I find myself crying out for Daddy when he spanks me or when he beats me. Of course, there is the grownup, wanton lust part of our dynamic. But the surrender of power that leaves me little and shaking is wonderful too.
So anyway, he brought me out of the bathroom and laid me down on the bed next to him. He started touching me, touching himself. He was talking quietly to me, telling me that I was his good little girl for peeing for him while he stroked my hair. I rolled my hips slowly as he gently massaged my clit and dipped a finger into my pussy. I was biting the nail on the thumb of my right hand to keep from crying out. When he saw that, he moaned with longing. I knew what he was thinking before he even said it and I blushed with shame.
"My little girl," he cooed, "are you going to suck on that thumb?" I looked down. I wanted to, but it seemed too far over the line. We don't do true age-play - not the bath times or the coloring - and this was unexpected. But I did it anyway because, beyond all rational thought, it felt right.
He pulled me closer and looked down at me as I slowly started sucking the tip of my thumb. I turned over onto my stomach and bent my legs up at the knees as I sucked, feeling so little and very ashamed. His eyes raked over me and he stroked himself faster. He groaned and came all over my ass as I arched my back up to meet his come.
I laid my head on his shoulder and sighed. I was worried that he would judge me for doing that, but he just held me and kept me safe.
Our Daddy/little girl dynamic is so interesting to me. It was a longtime fantasy of mine, one that I was hesitant to share with him. But once I did, it fit perfectly into what we already were doing. He always made me feel like he was taking care of me, whether he was pampering me or cruelly hurting me. Now I find myself crying out for Daddy when he spanks me or when he beats me. Of course, there is the grownup, wanton lust part of our dynamic. But the surrender of power that leaves me little and shaking is wonderful too.
So anyway, he brought me out of the bathroom and laid me down on the bed next to him. He started touching me, touching himself. He was talking quietly to me, telling me that I was his good little girl for peeing for him while he stroked my hair. I rolled my hips slowly as he gently massaged my clit and dipped a finger into my pussy. I was biting the nail on the thumb of my right hand to keep from crying out. When he saw that, he moaned with longing. I knew what he was thinking before he even said it and I blushed with shame.
"My little girl," he cooed, "are you going to suck on that thumb?" I looked down. I wanted to, but it seemed too far over the line. We don't do true age-play - not the bath times or the coloring - and this was unexpected. But I did it anyway because, beyond all rational thought, it felt right.
He pulled me closer and looked down at me as I slowly started sucking the tip of my thumb. I turned over onto my stomach and bent my legs up at the knees as I sucked, feeling so little and very ashamed. His eyes raked over me and he stroked himself faster. He groaned and came all over my ass as I arched my back up to meet his come.
I laid my head on his shoulder and sighed. I was worried that he would judge me for doing that, but he just held me and kept me safe.
Kneeling
I came home from work and found Him in my bed. He pulled me to him and slipped his hands up my skirt. He tugged at the waistband of my tights and pushed the skirt up around my waist.
"Do you want to play, Kitten?"
I whimpered for a moment and then caught that look in his eye, the look that told me that he wasn't fooling around. I nodded enthusiastically.
He slid my panties down to the floor and pulled me over him on the bed into a 69 position. He pushed my head down onto his cock as he put his mouth against my pussy. My mouth full, I moaned around his cock. He worked his tongue on my clit and held me as I squirmed against his face. I sucked harder.
He slid a finger into my pussy, then another, and then one into my ass. The individual sensations of his tongue and his fingers blended together. I kept sucking his cock intently, blindly, overwhelmed by the building orgasm in my pussy.
I was moaning louder, practically screaming onto his cock. It was almost too much but he held me tight against him - I couldn't move away from what I was feeling. It was building and suddenly...I was exploding, hot white and bright, screaming but completely without sensation.
And then it was over. I knelt over him, shaking and sweating. I slid off of his body down onto the floor where I knelt at his feet. He sat up and I laid my head on his lap. He stroked my hair as my breathing returned to normal.
"Kitten, you're my little girl," he cooed and I nuzzled my head into his lap. I was so happy, kneeling naked at his feet, safe and sated.
He lifted my head and looked into my eyes. "You'll always be my little girl. I'll always take care of you, Kitten." I nodded, wanting to stay there with him like that forever. I wanted him to take care of me, knew that he would do that always. He laid my head down again and I closed my eyes, feeling his hands smoothing down my hair, caressing my neck.
I knelt there for what felt like hours. At some point, he picked me up and put me to bed. But in my sleep, I was still there on the floor at his feet with my head on his lap.
"Do you want to play, Kitten?"
I whimpered for a moment and then caught that look in his eye, the look that told me that he wasn't fooling around. I nodded enthusiastically.
He slid my panties down to the floor and pulled me over him on the bed into a 69 position. He pushed my head down onto his cock as he put his mouth against my pussy. My mouth full, I moaned around his cock. He worked his tongue on my clit and held me as I squirmed against his face. I sucked harder.
He slid a finger into my pussy, then another, and then one into my ass. The individual sensations of his tongue and his fingers blended together. I kept sucking his cock intently, blindly, overwhelmed by the building orgasm in my pussy.
I was moaning louder, practically screaming onto his cock. It was almost too much but he held me tight against him - I couldn't move away from what I was feeling. It was building and suddenly...I was exploding, hot white and bright, screaming but completely without sensation.
And then it was over. I knelt over him, shaking and sweating. I slid off of his body down onto the floor where I knelt at his feet. He sat up and I laid my head on his lap. He stroked my hair as my breathing returned to normal.
"Kitten, you're my little girl," he cooed and I nuzzled my head into his lap. I was so happy, kneeling naked at his feet, safe and sated.
He lifted my head and looked into my eyes. "You'll always be my little girl. I'll always take care of you, Kitten." I nodded, wanting to stay there with him like that forever. I wanted him to take care of me, knew that he would do that always. He laid my head down again and I closed my eyes, feeling his hands smoothing down my hair, caressing my neck.
I knelt there for what felt like hours. At some point, he picked me up and put me to bed. But in my sleep, I was still there on the floor at his feet with my head on his lap.
Lightness
Things have been quite heavy in Kitten Land lately. I've been adjusting to his slightly increased control over me. Actually, I've been handling it badly, bratting out and sassing him left and right. That just makes things worse for me in the long run, but I think I'm finally learning the lesson.
Meanwhile, the non-D/s elements of our relationship have been progressing. I'm usually cautious in relationships because I've been burned before, but I've approached our commitment to each other with wild abandon. However, sometimes it catches up with me and I realize just how serious things are between us. That scares me, but he's so reassuring and so steady that I can handle it.
Still, we continue to move forward. I usually see him once during the week and at least once during the weekend for an overnight visit. We have found that that is not enough. So we are taking steps to see each other more often, to share more of our lives together. He is not moving into my home in any official capacity, but his presence will be more pronounced and he will have more of his own space within my space. I hope that by seeing each other more, we can alleviate some of the painful sadness that we both feel when we are apart, waiting to see each other again.
He pointed out to me the other night that, with all of the problems that some couples have, missing each other and loving each other too much are two problems that he'll gladly take. I agree with him and I am valiantly trying to focus on that very rational point of view. I'm focusing on these light, happy thoughts in an effort to avoid being dragged down by sadness or fear. Occasionally I go back and forth between the two, but today I'm coming down on the side of hopefulness and cheer.
To keep myself in this frame of mind, I've started to meditate on a certain feeling from a few nights ago. It was late on a weeknight. He and I had spent most of the early evening relaxing in bed. I wasn't feeling that well, so we didn't have sex, but the time we spent together was just as intimate. At some point, I realized that I was hungry.
"Do you want me to make you something?," he asked.
"I can get something. It's okay." I didn't want him to put himself out, plus I have a hard time accepting help sometimes.
"Kitten, do you want me to make you something?," he asked more persistently, looking at me with serious eyes.
"Okay," I said uncomfortably.
So he settled me onto the couch with a blanket and a DVD of my favorite show and went to work. I napped lightly on the couch as he bustled about in the kitchen. After a time, he came in and brought me my dinner. I sat there happily eating and listening to him hum as he did dishes in the kitchen. I drank some hot tea and felt very safe and small, like a child being cared for on a sick day. I smiled as he came over, drying his hands on a dishcloth, and wrapped me in his arms.
I think of that feeling, I crawl inside it, and I feel stronger. I am stronger.
Meanwhile, the non-D/s elements of our relationship have been progressing. I'm usually cautious in relationships because I've been burned before, but I've approached our commitment to each other with wild abandon. However, sometimes it catches up with me and I realize just how serious things are between us. That scares me, but he's so reassuring and so steady that I can handle it.
Still, we continue to move forward. I usually see him once during the week and at least once during the weekend for an overnight visit. We have found that that is not enough. So we are taking steps to see each other more often, to share more of our lives together. He is not moving into my home in any official capacity, but his presence will be more pronounced and he will have more of his own space within my space. I hope that by seeing each other more, we can alleviate some of the painful sadness that we both feel when we are apart, waiting to see each other again.
He pointed out to me the other night that, with all of the problems that some couples have, missing each other and loving each other too much are two problems that he'll gladly take. I agree with him and I am valiantly trying to focus on that very rational point of view. I'm focusing on these light, happy thoughts in an effort to avoid being dragged down by sadness or fear. Occasionally I go back and forth between the two, but today I'm coming down on the side of hopefulness and cheer.
To keep myself in this frame of mind, I've started to meditate on a certain feeling from a few nights ago. It was late on a weeknight. He and I had spent most of the early evening relaxing in bed. I wasn't feeling that well, so we didn't have sex, but the time we spent together was just as intimate. At some point, I realized that I was hungry.
"Do you want me to make you something?," he asked.
"I can get something. It's okay." I didn't want him to put himself out, plus I have a hard time accepting help sometimes.
"Kitten, do you want me to make you something?," he asked more persistently, looking at me with serious eyes.
"Okay," I said uncomfortably.
So he settled me onto the couch with a blanket and a DVD of my favorite show and went to work. I napped lightly on the couch as he bustled about in the kitchen. After a time, he came in and brought me my dinner. I sat there happily eating and listening to him hum as he did dishes in the kitchen. I drank some hot tea and felt very safe and small, like a child being cared for on a sick day. I smiled as he came over, drying his hands on a dishcloth, and wrapped me in his arms.
I think of that feeling, I crawl inside it, and I feel stronger. I am stronger.
Bathroom
He bent me over the back of the couch and slid his cock deep into my pussy. He pressed against me insistently, grinding his hips against my ass. After a few thrusts, I started to feel a nagging pressure in my stomach. I know that his cock is sometimes physically more than I can take, but I knew that wasn't the only issue. Really, the problem was that I had to pee.
(Deep breath. I cannot believe that I am writing about this.)
I asked him if I could have a minute to go to the bathroom and told him why.
"Do you want me to come in with you?," he asked in his most gentle voice.
"No," I said immediately, but he waited. I stood perfectly still for a minute, thinking. We had talked about this. I knew what he wanted me to do. I knew that he would get his way sooner or later. "I don't know," I mumbled after a minute.
"Okay, Kitten, come with me," he decided. Before I realized that he had made up my mind for me, he was gently leading me by my hair down the hallway. I paused at the door of the bathroom and he softly tapped my ass so that I would go in before him.
"Are you too shy to turn on the light?," he whispered to me in the dark bathroom. I nodded and looked up at him as he stroked my face and hair. I thought about backing out of the bathroom but then he smiled down at me. I sat down on the toilet instead. My face grew hot with shame immediately. I thought I knew humiliation before, but I was wrong. He put a few inches of his cock into my mouth. I started sucking on it slowly, focusing most of my attention on trying to pee.
I was very tense, and he reached down to massage my shoulder when he heard me take a deep breath. He slid his cock out of my mouth and knelt on the floor of the bathroom next to me. He put his arms around me, rocking me back and forth. I was whimpering that I really wanted to do this for him but that my body just wasn't cooperating. For a time, I sat very still with my head on his shoulder while he rubbed my back slowly, up and down. I never felt more like a little child, vulnerable and small, and he was never more gentle and patient with me.
I didn't understand why this was so hard for me. I felt like I had to pee and I wanted to do this for him so badly. But there was some psychological block that I just couldn't let down. I started worrying about all sorts of ridiculous things, like would going to the bathroom become strangely sexualized for me now? Would I lose the ability to control my bladder the way that I can no longer control my arousal when I'm around him? As I sat there, I felt like a child being potty trained, but I had already been potty trained as a child. Was this some sort of twisted sexual un-training? I started to breathe faster and become upset.
"I'm going to stand outside the door so you can relax, okay Kitten?"
"No, please, I can do it, please stay!," I pleaded. "Please don't leave, I know I can do it!"
"I'll be right outside the door, I won't be far, baby."
I cried softly to myself as I continued to sit there. I felt so alone and I wished that he was still holding me. I called out his name to make sure that he was still there. He was there, he was just waiting quietly. Finally, I was able to let go and pee a little bit. He came in a few seconds later and (again, I thought I knew humiliation until this moment) patted me dry with a few pieces of toilet paper.
He led me by the hand into the bedroom, where I laid in the crook of his arm with my head on his shoulder. I was bitterly disappointed in myself.
"Kitten, you are such a good girl. You were so good for me," he sighed.
"I wasn't good. I couldn't do it. I let you down."
"No, you didn't let me down," he said, cupping my chin in his hand so that he could look me right in the eye. "I'm so proud of how willing you were. That is so difficult and you'll learn. What I wanted to see is that you wanted to please me."
"I did. More than anything."
"Good, Kitten. I could tell. Plus, when I'm disappointed in you, you'll know it," he laughed devilishly before pulling me to his chest.
(Deep breath. I cannot believe that I am writing about this.)
I asked him if I could have a minute to go to the bathroom and told him why.
"Do you want me to come in with you?," he asked in his most gentle voice.
"No," I said immediately, but he waited. I stood perfectly still for a minute, thinking. We had talked about this. I knew what he wanted me to do. I knew that he would get his way sooner or later. "I don't know," I mumbled after a minute.
"Okay, Kitten, come with me," he decided. Before I realized that he had made up my mind for me, he was gently leading me by my hair down the hallway. I paused at the door of the bathroom and he softly tapped my ass so that I would go in before him.
"Are you too shy to turn on the light?," he whispered to me in the dark bathroom. I nodded and looked up at him as he stroked my face and hair. I thought about backing out of the bathroom but then he smiled down at me. I sat down on the toilet instead. My face grew hot with shame immediately. I thought I knew humiliation before, but I was wrong. He put a few inches of his cock into my mouth. I started sucking on it slowly, focusing most of my attention on trying to pee.
I was very tense, and he reached down to massage my shoulder when he heard me take a deep breath. He slid his cock out of my mouth and knelt on the floor of the bathroom next to me. He put his arms around me, rocking me back and forth. I was whimpering that I really wanted to do this for him but that my body just wasn't cooperating. For a time, I sat very still with my head on his shoulder while he rubbed my back slowly, up and down. I never felt more like a little child, vulnerable and small, and he was never more gentle and patient with me.
I didn't understand why this was so hard for me. I felt like I had to pee and I wanted to do this for him so badly. But there was some psychological block that I just couldn't let down. I started worrying about all sorts of ridiculous things, like would going to the bathroom become strangely sexualized for me now? Would I lose the ability to control my bladder the way that I can no longer control my arousal when I'm around him? As I sat there, I felt like a child being potty trained, but I had already been potty trained as a child. Was this some sort of twisted sexual un-training? I started to breathe faster and become upset.
"I'm going to stand outside the door so you can relax, okay Kitten?"
"No, please, I can do it, please stay!," I pleaded. "Please don't leave, I know I can do it!"
"I'll be right outside the door, I won't be far, baby."
I cried softly to myself as I continued to sit there. I felt so alone and I wished that he was still holding me. I called out his name to make sure that he was still there. He was there, he was just waiting quietly. Finally, I was able to let go and pee a little bit. He came in a few seconds later and (again, I thought I knew humiliation until this moment) patted me dry with a few pieces of toilet paper.
He led me by the hand into the bedroom, where I laid in the crook of his arm with my head on his shoulder. I was bitterly disappointed in myself.
"Kitten, you are such a good girl. You were so good for me," he sighed.
"I wasn't good. I couldn't do it. I let you down."
"No, you didn't let me down," he said, cupping my chin in his hand so that he could look me right in the eye. "I'm so proud of how willing you were. That is so difficult and you'll learn. What I wanted to see is that you wanted to please me."
"I did. More than anything."
"Good, Kitten. I could tell. Plus, when I'm disappointed in you, you'll know it," he laughed devilishly before pulling me to his chest.
Shy
I hate having sex while on my period. I'll take a quick fuck toward the end, but otherwise I'm too squeamish over the sight of my own blood. There's nothing worse than riding him with wild abandon, climaxing, and then looking down to discover that he is covered in blood. Horrifying.
He isn't uncomfortable with my period at all. He talks about it like it's the weather, all, "Oh, how is it today?" while I'd prefer to never mention it again. I can't even tell him that my period has started in a direct manner. With all of the guys out there who are disgusted by this particular function of women's bodies, I get the one who doesn't care. Unfortunately, I found out recently exactly how much he doesn't care.
He woke me up with his hands all over me. He was hard already and pressing against me. He slid down my body and started tugging my panties from my hips.
"No...I...," I stammered. I couldn't get the words out. Usually I'm a very well-spoken person, but his power over me steals all of my words.
"I know, Kitten. Now lift your hips," and he pulled my panties off of me. I kept me legs closed tightly together, but he just put his hand between my knees and pushed them apart. He was laying with his face about 12 inches from my pussy, getting that close-up view of me that he loves.
"Is this what you didn't want me to see? The string?," he said slowly in his most patronizing voice. Then he tugged softly on the string. I closed my eyes tightly and put my hands in front of my face. I was mortified. I nodded and whimpered.
"I see the string of your tampon. Does that make you nervous that I'm pulling on it like this?" I nodded some more, clutching my hands to my face in hopes of making this all go away.
"Touch your pussy for me, Kitten," he moaned as he bit into the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs. I cried out in pain as he continued biting me. I reluctantly removed my right hand from my face and started slowly rubbing my clit.
"Look how wet your little pussy is. Are you embarassed? Does that make you wet?" I started moaning, partly from embarrassment and mostly from the pressure of my fingers on my clit. He started pulling on the string again, making me squirm and I turned my face away from him. "Look at that, you're getting even wetter. I can see your pussy dripping." I kept rubbing my clit until I came hard with shuddering gasps.
"I think you want to get fucked right now, don't you?" He was right. I did want him inside me, if only to stop him from torturing me with my tampon, but mostly because I needed to obey him. I didn't care if there was blood as long as he thought I was a good girl for him.
He told me to go take my tampon out and I was momentarily relieved when it seemed like he was going to let me go to the bathroom to do it. But I was flabbergasted when he followed me into the bathroom and held me by the hair, urging me to take it out while he was standing there. I closed my eyes and removed it, trying not to look at it or him. I was certain that I was about to melt into the floor from shame.
After I washed my hands, he brought me back over to be the bed and bent me forward at the waist. I tried to keep my hands flat on the bed as he fucked me from behind. He came hard inside me, pushing me down onto the bed underneath him.
"Are you my shy little girl?"
"Yes."
"I love that you're shy for me. And I love how wet it makes you."
I smiled underneath him, feeling his cum seeping out between my pussy lips.
He isn't uncomfortable with my period at all. He talks about it like it's the weather, all, "Oh, how is it today?" while I'd prefer to never mention it again. I can't even tell him that my period has started in a direct manner. With all of the guys out there who are disgusted by this particular function of women's bodies, I get the one who doesn't care. Unfortunately, I found out recently exactly how much he doesn't care.
He woke me up with his hands all over me. He was hard already and pressing against me. He slid down my body and started tugging my panties from my hips.
"No...I...," I stammered. I couldn't get the words out. Usually I'm a very well-spoken person, but his power over me steals all of my words.
"I know, Kitten. Now lift your hips," and he pulled my panties off of me. I kept me legs closed tightly together, but he just put his hand between my knees and pushed them apart. He was laying with his face about 12 inches from my pussy, getting that close-up view of me that he loves.
"Is this what you didn't want me to see? The string?," he said slowly in his most patronizing voice. Then he tugged softly on the string. I closed my eyes tightly and put my hands in front of my face. I was mortified. I nodded and whimpered.
"I see the string of your tampon. Does that make you nervous that I'm pulling on it like this?" I nodded some more, clutching my hands to my face in hopes of making this all go away.
"Touch your pussy for me, Kitten," he moaned as he bit into the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs. I cried out in pain as he continued biting me. I reluctantly removed my right hand from my face and started slowly rubbing my clit.
"Look how wet your little pussy is. Are you embarassed? Does that make you wet?" I started moaning, partly from embarrassment and mostly from the pressure of my fingers on my clit. He started pulling on the string again, making me squirm and I turned my face away from him. "Look at that, you're getting even wetter. I can see your pussy dripping." I kept rubbing my clit until I came hard with shuddering gasps.
"I think you want to get fucked right now, don't you?" He was right. I did want him inside me, if only to stop him from torturing me with my tampon, but mostly because I needed to obey him. I didn't care if there was blood as long as he thought I was a good girl for him.
He told me to go take my tampon out and I was momentarily relieved when it seemed like he was going to let me go to the bathroom to do it. But I was flabbergasted when he followed me into the bathroom and held me by the hair, urging me to take it out while he was standing there. I closed my eyes and removed it, trying not to look at it or him. I was certain that I was about to melt into the floor from shame.
After I washed my hands, he brought me back over to be the bed and bent me forward at the waist. I tried to keep my hands flat on the bed as he fucked me from behind. He came hard inside me, pushing me down onto the bed underneath him.
"Are you my shy little girl?"
"Yes."
"I love that you're shy for me. And I love how wet it makes you."
I smiled underneath him, feeling his cum seeping out between my pussy lips.
Protector
I trust Him completely now, but when we first met, I was very wary of him. I had been sweet-talked and lied to by enough vanilla men to be hesitant. But he wanted me to trust him without question, to put myself in his hands. He would hold me late at night, stroking my hair, and tell me that he was always going to protect me, that he would never let anyone hurt me, that he would keep me safe.
I never understood exactly what he meant - protect me from what? Space aliens? - but he made me feel safe and secure all the same. He has a man's body with hair on his chest and I started to feel an unnatural affinity for that chest hair. I would lay my head on his chest and stroke it after coming. I always felt like a child, drifting off to sleep safe in her parents' arms.
One night we went out to dinner and were walking back to my apartment. My street is relatively quiet, so it was strange when a man started walking close behind us on the sidewalk. He noticed the strange man, shot him a nasty look and put his arm tightly around my shoulder. The man slowed down and crossed the street away from us; he soon disappeared from sight. I sighed with relief and he smiled down at me. "I'll always keep you safe, Kitten. Don't worry. I'll protect you."
When we got back to the apartment, he pulled me close to him and kissed me deeply. Slowly, he slid his hand down the front of my jeans and discovered what his words had done to me - made me immediately soaking wet and aroused for him.
I never understood exactly what he meant - protect me from what? Space aliens? - but he made me feel safe and secure all the same. He has a man's body with hair on his chest and I started to feel an unnatural affinity for that chest hair. I would lay my head on his chest and stroke it after coming. I always felt like a child, drifting off to sleep safe in her parents' arms.
One night we went out to dinner and were walking back to my apartment. My street is relatively quiet, so it was strange when a man started walking close behind us on the sidewalk. He noticed the strange man, shot him a nasty look and put his arm tightly around my shoulder. The man slowed down and crossed the street away from us; he soon disappeared from sight. I sighed with relief and he smiled down at me. "I'll always keep you safe, Kitten. Don't worry. I'll protect you."
When we got back to the apartment, he pulled me close to him and kissed me deeply. Slowly, he slid his hand down the front of my jeans and discovered what his words had done to me - made me immediately soaking wet and aroused for him.
Candy Cane
It took him two hours to discover that I wasn't wearing any underwear beneath my gray pleated skirt. "Kitten...," he moaned as he ran his hand up the inside of my thigh, feeling my thigh-high stockings, garter belt and shaved pussy.
We were stopped at a red light ten miles from his house and I was sitting in the passenger seat, sucking on a candy cane. Before the light could turn green, his fingers were inside me. He kept his eyes on the road and stared straight ahead as he touched me. His face was expressionless - I thought he was mad at me. I bit my lip and looked away.
As he pulled my left leg over the center console of the car and onto his lap, I realized that he wasn't mad but was focused on getting me home as quickly as possible. My skirt had fallen back above the tops of my stockings and my pussy was on display. He finger-fucked me furiously and told me to keep sucking on my candy cane. I shot nervous glances at the cars we passed along the way. He noticed and just smirked, sliding my skirt up higher.
At the house, he grabbed my arm and hustled me out of the car, whispering "you're mine now, Kitten" in my ear as we went. When we got into the house, he pushed me down onto all fours and lifted up my coat and skirt. I dropped my candy cane onto the floor as I spread my knees wider for him. He must have taken his cock out on the way into the house because he was inside me immediately, moving roughly and murmuring that I was already so wet.
He was fucking me so hard that I braced my arms flat on the floor, which incidentally let him slam into me harder. He came while I was moaning his name.
Then he made stand up in front of him and lift my skirt so he could see his cum drip out of me. He smiled sweetly as he traced the rivulets down the inside of my thighs.
We were stopped at a red light ten miles from his house and I was sitting in the passenger seat, sucking on a candy cane. Before the light could turn green, his fingers were inside me. He kept his eyes on the road and stared straight ahead as he touched me. His face was expressionless - I thought he was mad at me. I bit my lip and looked away.
As he pulled my left leg over the center console of the car and onto his lap, I realized that he wasn't mad but was focused on getting me home as quickly as possible. My skirt had fallen back above the tops of my stockings and my pussy was on display. He finger-fucked me furiously and told me to keep sucking on my candy cane. I shot nervous glances at the cars we passed along the way. He noticed and just smirked, sliding my skirt up higher.
At the house, he grabbed my arm and hustled me out of the car, whispering "you're mine now, Kitten" in my ear as we went. When we got into the house, he pushed me down onto all fours and lifted up my coat and skirt. I dropped my candy cane onto the floor as I spread my knees wider for him. He must have taken his cock out on the way into the house because he was inside me immediately, moving roughly and murmuring that I was already so wet.
He was fucking me so hard that I braced my arms flat on the floor, which incidentally let him slam into me harder. He came while I was moaning his name.
Then he made stand up in front of him and lift my skirt so he could see his cum drip out of me. He smiled sweetly as he traced the rivulets down the inside of my thighs.
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