I’ve mentioned before that Himself is not much for long-distance dominance. It’s been a little quiet on the Master and nilla front of late–our crazy schedules have kept us apart for 3 week (I know, right? Total suckage…and not the good kind of sucking, either.) So imagine my surprise, when after a very long dry spell of no distance-domming…he drops a bomb on me.
On my way home from work we’re talking. It’s Thursday, the hard and fast rule of absolutely no touching myself in place as usual. He’s not had me do any sort of edging in…months, I think. No dreaded half-o’s. (and isn’t it funny that in the dreading there is also a terrible longing to be tormented, too?) Really, not much of anything. When he starts talking about ZNN (Zero, Nada, No touching) I’m (truthfully here…)….not really paying much attention. But something he says pings through my brain and I stutter…
“What? What did you say Master?”
“I said, nilla, if you’d been paying attention (how did he know my mind was wandering?), that I think it’s time to have a Half-O tonight. It’s been quite a while (no kidding, right?) since I’ve had you do this, and I think today is the perfect time to…get you to pay attention.”
*blink, blink, blink*
“uhhh….You have my attention, Master…”
“Good slut. I want you to climb that mountain and stand on the crumbling edge. I want you so close your toes are hanging over that edge. I want you crying and whining and swearing….but if you fall, I’ll beat your ass the next time we meet.” (since He always beats my ass when we meet, and he is making specific mention of it, I know He means a *wicked bad awful terrible* kind of beating…)
“uh…m n aa m…uh…”
“*laughter* Aw, poor little slut forget how to speak?”
“uhm…Master…I’m not a big fan of this and I’m really out of practice and…”
“I know…that’s why it’s important to retrain you.”
“Oh nilla, how I love these quiet little pauses in our conversations.”
And He laughs to himself as I attempt to sputter out some sort of reply. And of *course* I hate those frigging half-o’s. And of course I *love* them too. I need that hand (metaphorical) on my shoulder making me conform to what He wants. Truly, my vanilla life is SO full (my cup runneth over!) just now that feeling submissive seems far away. I know I AM a submissive, but without the Dominance factor? I have to pack it up and put it on a mental shelf and get on with things. (That makes me sound like a guy, doesn’t it?)
But then He … well, He knows me, firstly. And second, He is a dominant, and it’s his natural state. And he’s long professed to not really care about long-distance domming. . . He gets his thrill in the face-to-face contact with me. (OH the gleaming smiles when he tortures me when we meet, even for just a bit of tea.)
The order is issued, and won’t be revoked. He never, ever, changes his mind when he issues an edict. Ever. I finally manage to stammer out my compliance. I mean, it’s out of left field, this order of His. I’m busy thinking about things I need to do when I get home, and BLAMMO! He knocks me off my complacency with that jolt of dominance.
And then deepens the pot.
We’re just about to hang up…I’m not too far from home, from vanillaville.
“Oh. Right. Nilla–”
I’m a bit confused now, His tone throws me off. He sounds confused, a bit rushed. (He’s not. My radar goes up and begins sending signals to my clit.)
“Nilla. There must be clamps. Unless you’d prefer the big plug up your ass. That would be in addition to clamps on your nips.”
I demur quickly, adding that of course I’ll put on the clamps, and nosir, I don’t need the anal plug to remember my place. But I can’t resist one last wee protest.
“But Sir, Master….I…It’s been a long time since I wore the clamps. Since January. At our last playtime. I…”
I pause a moment trying to phrase this appropriately so I don’t wind up with a plug up my ass for being sassy.
Ohgawd. His voice now. Silky and dark and I can picture His face, the gleam of his eyes, the steady watchful gaze of the hunter. I’m so turned on *justlikethat* that I could have an orgasm just from His voice.
“I..my nipples, Master. They’re out of practice. Those clamps are really gonna hurt…”
He all but purrs now. My clit is throbbing, my pussy is wet, I can feel the dampness seeping from me. I’m so ready for him to fuck me rightNOWpleaserightnow…but it’s the phone and I’m almost home.
“Aww, that’s just perfect.”
The sadist, dormant for most of the winter, has returned.