Master and I had a tiny bit of face time this past weekend. It’s good because I’ve been feeling very vanilla of late. I know that life is cyclic like this but it is sometimes just disheartening to think that I’ve not written much kink at all. I’ve had some good ideas, but no time to flesh them out.
Being with Him helps to correct all that.
He was going to pinch me, then stopped Himself.
“Right. Summer. Can’t.” He frowned at me. “You bruise too damn easily.”
I still wish He had, though it would have been difficult to hide the marks. It’s been wicked hot here in the Northeast these last few days, and I’m wearing tank tops to try to keep cool. So–there would be no overshirts without it being obvious that I was hiding something. He’s clever though, that Master.
“I can’t put my hands on my shoulders,” He says a bit later on.
I do it.
“You mean like this?” I say?
“No I can do that. But my shoulders are so tight, my neck has been bothering me,” He explains. And I know it has.
I move my hands so they are way behind my shoulders, almost to the back of my neck.
“Like this?” I say?
He reaches across the table and pinches my left tit, hard, His fingers slipping down my shirt, my bra, and getting a hellagood tweek on my nipple.
I jump and squeak a bit. He’s sitting so that He can see the two kids covering the counter at the coffee shop where we’re meeting. it’s early on Sunday, and there is no one there but us. This particular place does wedding cakes–most people hang out for coffee etc at their downtown location. Out here on the secondary route? Not so much. When the kids had gone back into the kitchen, that’s when He made his move.
Got me good, He did.
He doesn’t let an opportunity slide, that Man. And okay, He can’t pinch and bruise my arms…but He knows how fucking gullible I am…and I fall for those little set ups all the time.
All the fucking time.
He got a good chuckle (and a great grab) out of that one.
We talked for a bit longer, I finished my tea (an excellent English Breakfast), and we planned our playtime…just 10 days away, peeps!
I told Him the other day that I was nervous and worried. He’s had some health issues, which He told me are better and stop fucking worrying about it.
(I can’t…I’m a “frett-er”)
And nervous because it’s been a long, long while since our last time together with a lot of pain. And…I don’t want Him to go easy on me because of that, but I’m still worried (a bit) that I’ll be disappointing to Him. I suppose that as long as I’m whining and whimpering He’ll be happy.
And really, it is all out of my hands anyway, right?
I’m working much harder these days at living in the moment. I won’t say I’m a totally Zen person, but I’m getting there. And being a submissive is almost an ultimate Zen experience. There’s this neat poster I’ve seen that says “Don’t worry–nothings in your control” ~ isn’t that the truth? When we get behind closed doors, there is not a safety zone, no “gaols” to hide in or get to. It’s all right there, in the moment.
Nothing is in my control.
And I’m really, really happy about that.