Showing posts with label Submission. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Submission. Show all posts

September 20, 2013

Knock Knock - Flash Fiction Friday

Knocking several times and not getting any response, she leaned in close to the door and said,“Sir? Hello?” and still there was no response.

Against her better judgment, and her training, she balled up her fist and pounded on the door three times. Still there was no response, so she leaned in close again. Aiming her voice at the crack between the door jamb and door, and in a much louder voice, she said, “Sir? Are you there? Please answer!” She was alarmed how loudly her voice echoed in the courtyard and looked around embarrassed.

Leaning her ear against the door she listened for any sound inside the house. Finally she heard the sound of footsteps inside and spoke again, “Sir? Are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here, who is this?”

“It’s me Sir, Sally. I’ve come to get my forgotten shoes.”

Now she could hear his voice right at the door, but there was no sound of him unlatching or attempting to unlock and open the door.

“Sir, can you please open the door?”

“Hang on, I’ll go and get your shoes for you.”

“Sir, may I please come in, it’s not just my shoes that I’ve left behind.”



Word Max = 200, Word Min = 200, Bonus Words - None, Key Phrase - None - - Just tell a story

September 3, 2012

Beginning

Holding her hands in mine, arms outstretched, I backed through the archway into the living room. She walked forward, following my progress toward the large overstuffed chair.

I sat down in the chair and positioned her on the ottoman facing me; and placed her hands on her knees. She sat calmly, seemingly comfortable with her nakedness.

I pulled her list from my shirt pocket and read it over. Then I read it out loud, watching her reactions.

I handed her the list, “Read the two immediate goals out loud.”

She did.

“Okay, let’s begin. Tell me about the first goal.”

August 15, 2012

Ready Now

Came from here

Noticing how calm and compliant she was, I continued to circle around her. I moved from in front of her, to behind her, stopping there, looking at the back of her head.

Calm and quiet, I didn’t make a sound, she turned her head left, then right, looking for me. I traced fingers through her hair, her whole body shivered.

I walked around in front of her again and lifted her chin with the tip of my finger and smiled at her. I put my hands out to her and she put hers in mine and I lifted her up.

July 30, 2012

When Frederick Met Camille

Frederick got up from the desk and went to answer the knock at the door, surprised they hadn’t used the bell. Standing before him was a lovely young girl, dressed in something resembling a bell boy’s outfit including the stylized hat and white gloves. She offered him an envelope with great flourish. With an upturned, open palm she indicated that he should open it, and she stood silent and still. The whole routine made him grin.

Before he turned his attention to the envelope he looked the girl up and down. The bell boy costume was very true to form except for one obvious unusual feature, the lack of buttons down the front of the shirt. The shirt was open at the neck, plunged down to a single studded closure at the navel and with the tails tucked into a pair of tailored low-rise trousers. A pair of suspenders bracketed her smallish, but ample breasts, pressing them together into a cleavage that amplified the open front of the shirt.

He stood and stared at the girl’s chest, her navel and the snug fit of her trousers, largely ignoring the envelope until a second gesture reminded him to open it.

Finally, Frederick broke the wax seal on the back of the envelope and pulled out its contents, a card which read:

Personal Invitation

You are invited to spend the evening as the guest of Patrick

A limousine will arrive to pick you up at 7:00 PM

Transportation will be provided to and from the event

Dress is formal casual and all your needs will be attended to for the evening

R.S.V.P. to the delivery boy


Laughing out loud, he said to himself, Patrick, you sneaky bastard. This explained Patrick’s dinner invitation for this very evening issued a couple weeks ago, an obvious ploy to lock in his calendar.

He looked back up at the girl, still standing stark still in front of him, again noticing her breasts, but this time also the stylized page boy haircut, very bright red lipstick and dramatic eyebrow makeup. She was an attractive girl, probably in her late 20s and she obviously seemed to be enjoying playing this role, if it was a role she was playing.

After giving the girl another once over, he returned his attention to her face and invited her in, but she waved off the invitation with a dismissive gesture. She tilted her head with a quizzical look, begging his response.

“Please tell Patrick I am happy and excited to accept his invitation and will be glad to attend the event.”

At that the girl tipped her hat, smiled, and turned and headed toward the stairs, leaving him to stand and watch her trim little body flow off down the hall. It was his first opportunity to notice just how nicely the trousers had been tailored all around. She turned right and disappeared down the stairwell, leaving behind the faint scent of jasmine and a not so faint, lovely memory.

He walked to the end of the hallway and stepped through the French doors into the bright morning sun and onto the little balcony. Looking down he saw a shiny black limousine with a driver holding the back door open. Just then the girl came out of the building and stepped into the back seat. The driver closed the door and walked around to his side of the car. Looking in through the sunroof he could see the girl removing her hat and shaking out her hair as they drove off.

* * * *

Walking back into the apartment he read over the invitation again, turned it over, looked into the envelope and realized it didn’t offer any explanation of the nature of the evening ahead. “All your needs will be attended to”, was very broad, and seemingly all inclusive. And the dress code; dress formal casual, what was formal casual, black silk pajamas? He sat down in his easy chair and pondered his knowledge of Patrick and tried to imagine exactly what he had in mind for the evening ahead. He leaned his head back and soon dozed off.

* * * *

After awakening from his late morning nap, he went about his routines, doing some business online and reading/responding to various emails.

At 5 o’clock he got up from his desk and went about showering and shaving and dressing for the evening. He decided on a pair of relaxed slacks, a button up collarless shirt and a pair of sandals. It was going to be a warm evening and he wanted as much comfort as his wardrobe could afford him.

Just as the sun was setting the doorbell rang. He looked at his watch, 7 o’clock on the button. Opening the door he found a nice looking gentleman in a black suit, white shirt with an open collar and a black beret, the chauffeur.

“Frederick, yes? Your ride is here, are you ready?”

“Yes, I am, thank you. Just let me get my things and I will be right down.”

“Very good Sir, I’ll be waiting downstairs.”

Frederick turned back into the apartment to make sure everything was turned off, put his keys and coins and billfold into his pockets and grabbed his shoulder bag. One last look around and he walked out the door and headed down the stairwell. At the front door the limo driver stood holding the back passenger door for him. He climbed in, the door was closed and he settled back, enjoying the nice cool air blowing through the vents.

The driver got into the car and leaning around over the seat back, through the partition to say, “I have one stop to make along the way and then I will get you to Patrick’s club straight away.”

“Very good, thank you.”

As the heavily smoked partition was closed he found himself in a nearly dark backseat, which was very comfortable and offered legs-straight-out leg room, a luxury he really appreciated. Looking around he saw a sound system control panel and what looked like a small liquor cabinet beside a mini refrigerator. These were flanked by cushions for fold down rear facing jump seats which would consume a good bit of the spacious leg room, but in their folded upright position were completely out of the way.

He was so engrossed in surveying the surrounds he had not paid any attention to where the driver was taking him and was startled when the car pulled over out of traffic and settled into a parking space on the wrong side of the street in front of a dress shop. Looking up through the sunroof he could see that the building was three stories tall; there was the street level business and two floors of what appeared to be residences above it. The driver got out and went through a doorway at the side of the storefront, probably a stairway up to the second and third floors.

He continued to explore the fitments in the back of the limo, changing the sound system from the FM radio to the CD function and the system clicked into some very nice soft jazz. He decided he would let the CD continue to play. It was not an artist that he knew, but he very much liked the music.

Suddenly the opposite back door of the limo was opening and someone was climbing into the back of the limo with him as the driver closed the door. It was the bellboy girl who had delivered the invitation to him earlier in the day, still dressed in the same silly costume. He turned sideways in his seat and just looked at her as she sat looking at him.

“Hello, I guess I’m giving you a ride to work at Patrick’s?” He wondered if she would speak this time or continue to be mute as she had been at their morning meeting.

“Hello. Well, not exactly. I’m going with you to Patrick’s, yes, but not to work. I’m your blind date for the evening.”

Frederick sat there astonished. What had Patrick arranged for him? Who was this girl? What was going on? He suddenly realized that he was staring at her with his mouth half open in amazement. He mentally shook himself. He tapped on the partition and told the driver to remain here for the time being while he straightened this out.

“I’m sorry young lady, but I’m really not interested in some hired escort for the evening. I don’t know what Patrick has promised you or what arrangements he might have made, but I don’t think this is something that is going to work out.”

She smiled and said, “There have been no arrangements made by Patrick, or anyone, for you in regard to me. I am here of my own free will and interest, and am not an escort of any kind or someone who can be arranged for in such a manner.”

“Really? Then can you tell me what this is all about?” he asked.

“My name is Camille and I am one of the owners of this dress shop.” she said, gesturing out the window to the storefront.

“I’ve worked with Patrick on the arrangements for this evening, but as an accomplice, and have outfitted two girls for him with dresses and fittings for this evening. However, they have nothing to do with you, or me. That was business I had with Patrick. Being here with you and going to Patrick’s party with you is something I arranged for on my own. You might say I invited myself to his party. In fact, I invited you to his party as well.”

“Then what is this evening all about, what is it that you and Patrick have cooked up? And how do I figure into this scheme?”

“Patrick made arrangements for a few of his very special customers, a surprise party in the private part of his club; you know where I am talking about. When he was telling me about the evening and asking for my help, I asked why you were not included. He said he didn’t think you would enjoy such an arranged evening and so had not included you.”

“He was right; this kind of a party is not my cup of tea. You should have listened to his counsel.”

“Sir, please hear me out. This is not about you being part of some special party at Patrick’s, but rather about me having found an opportunity to spend some time with you and get to know you. We met briefly at my 30th birthday party at Patrick’s a couple years ago; I found you very intriguing and appealing. Tonight’s party has simply afforded me the chance to invite you to be my guest for an evening. I want you to be my date; I want to be your date, for the evening.”

He stared at her and thought about this. What an interesting and elaborate ruse she had concocted. He looked at her, she was a cute girl, he had noticed that even in the morning and decided he might enjoy this evening after all. And he had complete faith in Patrick and so would trust his involvement.

“Well, if we are going to go through with this evening’s plans, whatever they might entail, we need to change your clothes. I don’t want to spend the evening with a girl whose outfit looks like a cross between an organ grinder and his chimp. I loved your costume this morning, but it is not appropriate for an evening out.”

Frederick tapped on the partition again and told the driver they were going back up to the apartment for a few minutes and would be back down shortly.

He reached across Camille’s lap and pushed the door open and followed her out. She unlocked the door to the stairway and he followed her up the stairs to the third floor. He had to admit that he really did love the way her trousers were tailored and would not have minded several more flights of stairs for the opportunity to enjoy the view of her cheeks swaying back and forth, so snugly contained.

He continued to follow her up the stairs, down the hall and waited patiently while she opened her apartment door and let him in. He looked around and saw a very nicely appointed living room, sparingly furnished in a semi-modern style. The decor showed semblances of her profession, she clearly brought her fashion and dress shop work home with her.

“Where is your closet?”

She suddenly seemed quite shy, in contrast to the girl who had just told him how she had arranged this evening as a bold and forward way of getting to know him. Suddenly she was shy about him looking into her closet. Finally, she pointed to a hallway off of the living room and he could see a set of double doors on the left side of the hall.

He stepped into the hall and in front of the doors, “Right here?”

She nodded her head and he pulled the doors open and found a surprisingly large walk in closet, completely out of proportion to the size of the apartment. He walked in and could instantly see how the closet was arranged. Pants and slacks hanging over here, then jackets, then skirts, blouses next and finally dresses. He started browsing through the dresses as Camille came up beside him, looking very anxious. As he thumbed through, he would occasionally push a space open to view a particular dress and then move on. Toward the end of the section of dresses he came upon a dark blue halter dress secured to its hanger by braided ties. He spread open some space and gave it a more thorough examination. It was a very simple dress, almost skimpy in design with a hi-low hem style, considerably shorter in the front than in the back. It had a deep plunging back and nice peek-a-boo slit between the breasts. He glanced over at Camille and the plunging neckline of her shirt and could imagine how nicely the dress would cling to the shape of her breasts and show their roundness through the open slit.

He pulled the dress down off the pole and held it up to Camille. She instinctively grabbed the material and spread it across her body to show how it would look on her. He nodded his approval and draped the dress across the back of the chair in the corner. He turned back to the closet and looked through the rest of the dresses, but couldn’t find anything else that would overrule his first choice.

He turned and looked back at Camille and saw a strange look on her face, “What?”

“No man has ever come into my home, taken over my closet and selected something for me to wear quite like this. Certainly men have suggested what they would like to see me in, but never has anyone taken over a clothing selection so thoroughly. I am not sure what to think about it, I find it very appealing, it is a very sexy thing to do to a girl. Do you know that?”

He broke out in a broad smile and said, “Yes, I do. Perhaps it is part of what makes me, how did you say it, “intriguing and appealing”? If you had not liked it, it probably would have signaled a very short evening.”

He stepped over in front of her and pulled the suspenders and shirt down off her shoulders. Without waiting for a reaction he stepped past her, gave her a firm but playful backhanded swat on the bottom and walked into the living room, “Hurry up now and get changed.”

* * * *

Frederick went and sat down on the couch and waited for her, casually looking around at the room’s furnishings. It was a very comfortable room. He sat back and relaxed.

When she came out, she stopped in the middle of the room, turned around slowly and said, “What do you think? Is it what you expected?”

He was very impressed, the dress clung to her features exactly as it was designed, it cupped her pert breasts, flowed down off her hips, and the dipped back came right down to the dimples in the small of her back, just above her buttocks. He raised his eyebrows and said enthusiastically, “It’s lovely and looks exactly how I had hoped it would on you, wonderful. And I really like the shoes.”

She had added a pair of fairly high heels that really accented her legs, but he noticed something wrong and told her to come closer. She came up and stood right in front of him, “Yes?”

He reached out and put his hand on the outside of her calf and paused to judge her reaction. Finding none, he slowly slid his hand up her calf, past her knee and on up the outside of her thigh until he felt the top of the thigh-hi stockings she was wearing. He hooked his thumb into the elastic around their top, looked up into her eyes and made a clucking sound, “These will have to go.”

She registered no surprise, just acceptance. He moved his hand further up her thigh until his hand was on her bare hip. He shook his head back and forth, “No, no, this isn’t right. Sit down here and remove those stocking.”

He got up and gave her a hand sitting down onto the couch then walked off into the hallway out of sight. When he returned Camille was sitting with her legs half tucked under the couch, stockings folded neatly, sitting on the coffee table. He walked up to her and said, “Here, put these on.”

It was a small pair of black mesh bikini panties.

* * * *

Once they were back out in the limo and heading towards Patrick's place Camille fell silent again and he took to alternately looking out the window and looking her over head to toe, becoming more and more intrigued with her audacity at setting up such an arrangement. It was not often that he was so actively pursued by someone, preferring to be the aggressor himself, and usually beating them to the punch.

When the limo pulled up to the VIP entrance at the side of Patrick’s club Camille started to get out of the car, but he gestured toward her to stay and said, “I need to speak to Patrick for a minute and then I’ll be back for you.”

Camille nodded and settled back down in her seat as he got out and walked through the entrance into the club.

Patrick stepped forward and greeted his friend with a hug, “So good to see you Frederick. I’m very pleased you accepted my invitation and decided to join us for the evening. I promise, you will have a wonderful time.”

Looking around past Frederick’s shoulder Patrick seemed confused, he said, “You are always so punctual, you're actually a little early, things won’t be starting for a while now. But where is Camille?”

“She’s out in the car waiting for me. I’m looking forward to the show tonight, but I have a couple things to do first. I assume you won’t mind me using the limo and driver for a while longer?”

“Not at all, just don’t be too long, I wouldn’t want you to miss anything. How long will it be before you are back?”

“Probably not much more than an hour, maybe a bit longer.”

“Hopefully not, we should just be getting underway in an hour or so. What do you need to do first?”

He smiled at Patrick, shook his hand and clapped his shoulder with his free hand, “See you in a while Patrick,” and turned and walked back out.

After exiting the club he walked around to the driver and tapped on the window. The driver lowered the window, “Patrick has extended me the use of you and your car for a couple of errands I need to run before the party tonight. I hope you will be able to accommodate me?”

“Most certainly Sir. I was hired for the evening and would just be waiting around for several hours to drive you home at the end of the night. I’ll be happy to have something to do.”

“Very good, thank you.” At that he gave him instructions on where to drive to and went around and got back into his seat.

* * * *

Frederick slid his hand across the back of the seat as he got into the car, letting it come to rest on Camille’s shoulder and then neck, and said, “Patrick says hello and he hopes you’re having a nice evening; that everything is going as you’d planned.”

Rather than pulling away from his hand she leaned in his direction, smiled and said, “So far so good, wouldn’t you say?”

He just smiled in response and lifted the big armrest divider up and back into the cushion so there was nothing between them. At that, Camille moved over across the seat a bit more so that his hand was now on her opposite shoulder and she leaned in against him slightly. He responded by tightening his grip around her and they both settled back and fell silent and both seemed absorbed in listening to the music.

After they had been driving for a few minutes she asked, “Where are we going? Aren't we going to go to Patrick’s party?”

“We’ll be going back to the party after a while, but nothing will be starting for an hour or two, and rather than hang around all those people I thought we might enjoy the quiet night or maybe going for swim.”

Camille gave him look of surprise, “A swim? Where on earth would we go swimming?”

He looked down at her with a conspiratorial smile and said, “I’m a member of a private club that has a very nice facility that just happens to include a full sized swimming pool.”

She looked up at him and smiled, and moved closer, raising her head and offered him a kiss, which he willingly accepted and prolonged. He pulled her in closer, wrapped his arm around her tighter and turned in his seat to more fully engage with her. When they broke the kiss they were both looking into each other eyes, smiling, even grinning. He moved his hand up to the back of her head and slipped his fingers into her hair, taking a tight grip of a handful of her hair and pulled her head back. He leaned in and kissed her again, more aggressively than before and worked his mouth over hers, parting her lips with the tip of his tongue.

She let out a little moan at the tug on her hair and fell back, not offering any resistance to his pull, her lips parted slightly. He could feel her jaw relaxing as her mouth opened more. He rotated his body toward her and deepened the kiss which she returned with equal ferocity, her mouth now fully open and accepting his tongue as it probed and explored the insides of her mouth, her own tongue, her teeth and even the roof of her mouth.

Still gripping the back of her head by her hair he reached over and tucked his hand under her arm and pulled her over toward him. She rotated with the pull, but rather than ending up laying against him she moved so she was astride his left thigh, hands against his torso. He had to lean down even further to continue the kiss since she was nearly out of reach. As he tried to pull her up closer she put her hands on his chest and pushed off, breaking the kiss.

He let go of the kiss and his grip on her hair and took hold of her upper arms with each hand as she slid back even further, rocking herself in a grinding movement against the muscles of his upper thigh. His grip on her arms helped balance her on his leg. He smiled at her as he saw her eyes begin to glaze over, recognizing the pleasure she was bringing to herself. He could feel the damp heat in his leg as she rode up and back, making low gasping noises and he flexed the muscles on his leg to provide an even firmer surface for her.

As he held her arms, looking into her eyes, she looking back at him, he could feel her arms becoming tense. Her leg muscles grew tense as her whole body stiffened and she threw her head back and grunted out, panting and shaking all over. He held tight to her arms to help steady her until her spasms passed and she collapsed down against him, breathing heavily, gasping in short breaths.

Slowly but surely she relaxed and began taking longer, slower breaths, still with her face buried in his chest. Camille looked up at him and shook her head as if to clear her mind. She gave him a sly smile then collapsed back down against his chest again.

* * * *

As she laid there relaxing the limo came to a stop and the engine was shut off. Frederick heard the driver's door open, felt the car jostle, and then the door closed, then silence. He knew they had arrived at the club and the driver was excusing himself as they had discussed.

He took Camille’s head in his hands and said, “We are at the club swimming pool and the driver has left us for a while. He will be enjoying himself in the lounge until I call him back. Would you like to go for a swim?”

She shook her head, “No, not just yet.”

She laid there against his chest, still astride his thigh resting against his knee, he felt her hand on the inside of his leg. She was slowly running her hand up and down the inside of his thigh, stopping every once in a while to lightly pinch or squeeze a handful of flesh. He could feel her breathing starting to change again and the heavier her breath the more time she spent with her hand rubbing and pressing his erection.

Suddenly she moved, sliding down off of his thigh and landing on the floor of the back seat, between his feet and pulled herself up into a cross legged sitting position, and scooted herself up close to the seat between his thighs. She shifted around and pulled up on her dress so it rose and then bellowed down around and over her crossed ankles and legs. Once settled she put a hand on each of his thighs and rubbed them up and down, pushing further up each time until her hand were up around the waistband of his slacks. She curled her fingers inside the waistband and slid them to the center; she fumbled with buttons and zipper until she had them undone and was able to peel them open.

He felt her hands working to undo the waistband and then the feel of the material being peeled down. Next he felt her hands rubbing him through his shorts, knowing she could feel his involuntary throbbing. He looked down at her and saw the concentration and determination in her face. He reached out and was barely able to tangle his fingers in the hair at the top of her head, but could tell she enjoyed the tease, her head swayed and she hummed a soft tune.

Just then she reached up and roughly pulled down his shorts, so hard that he had to lift his hips off the seat to allow them to slide down off of his bottom. Once freed she took him in her hands and stroked slowly, stretching the skin, causing him to grow even harder as she worked him up and down. He let go of her hair and settled back, enjoying her handiwork. As she continued to work him with her hands his breathing got shorter and his hips moved up and back in rhythm with her stroking.

His arousal built more and more until he was starting to throb, he involuntarily moaned his pleasure. He was sure she should be able to feel it in her hand but was not slowing down or changing her pace in any way. He was feeling his release building deep in his groin and wasn’t sure how much more attention he was going to be able to tolerate without exploding. She looked at him and gave him a big smile then lowered her head again.

Suddenly she increased her pace and he knew he was moments away, sweating all over. All of his muscles tightened and his legs tried to push out straight. She leaned up onto her knees and forward toward him and pulled him down toward her and just as he could hold it no longer and burst out with his orgasm she placed her mouth over the head of his cock. She swallowed quickly, several times, until he stopped throbbing and began to relax, even though he did not soften yet.

She settled back on the floor, but continued to hold and caress him. After a couple minutes he began to relax and soften. He reached down and lifted her head until their eyes met, and they both smiled. He settled back and continued to hold her head, tangling his fingers in her tousled hair.

Camille moved up to the seat and sat close, cuddling up while he grappled with getting his slacks rearranged and buttoned and zipped up. After he had himself back together he pulled his phone and called the driver back.

* * * *

When the limo dropped them off at the club they were greeted just inside the door by Patrick himself, “Well, where have you two been for the past couple hours?”

“It is such a lovely night, we went to go for a swim. I hope we got back in time and didn’t miss much?”

“No, in fact things are just getting started. Go ahead on in and make yourselves comfortable. Someone will be around to get your drink and food orders shortly.”

“Thank you very much, we are looking forward to a very nice evening.”

As they walked by Patrick noticed that neither of them had wet hair. But before he could ask again they had moved into the crowd, into the noise, and on into the night.

May 31, 2012

Equal but Different

A current post by Pygar, A Kind Dom, asks, “Who is in control?”, I responded:
"Ultimately, they each have the power to end the exchange, but it is a power exchange. She exchanges her power for his control and having done so, as long as the relationship/exchange continues, the Dom is in control.
If the sub withdraws, there no longer is a "who?"."

Two related topics, again by Pygar and his correspondents, “submission and feminism” and “submission, feminism and equality” also talk about who is in control but goes on to discuss the question of the value of the submissive in the power exchange relationship. The construct for women that is called feminism is about a quest for equality, and the full and complete right to choose from all the available options. There is nothing about feminism that equates to dominance just as there is nothing in it that is tied to submission.

Aisha also spoke on this topic in response to the Newsweek article about 50 Shades of Grey that suggests that the submission portrayed in that story is anti-feminist. She says:

". . . they’re trying to figure out the connection between women being equal and being submissive at the same time without understanding BDSM at all."'

and

"But i think it increases the split, creates a greater dichotomy, between feminism and submission, when in fact, it is not even a split. Not a dichotomy at all."

I think it is interesting that she titles her post, BDSM Lite because it reflects the common misconceptions. Until you have the real, personal, and visceral experience of Dominance/submission as Aisha says, you are almost sure to see the two positions in a hierarchical view where one is above the other, not a linear view, where they are truly side by side, equal but different.


Feminism is about having equal rights; what is done with those rights and that choice, it seems to me, is up to the individual. Some women may choose to take on a strong business challenge or be a dominant leader in her career, or to grab the reins of her relationship and lead her husband/man in the course of their connection and activities. Or, exercise that same free will and equal opportunity to choose letting go of her power in the context of a power exchange relationship where she knowingly relinquishes control and ceeds it over to her partner. Of course, she knows she can always take that power/control back, effectively ending the power exchange dynamic and perhaps consequently the relationship, or at least the currrent formulation of the relationship.

But there is no hierarchy like:

Dominant

Feminist

Submissive

where if one is a feminist there is a better/higher position called Dominant and/or a lower/lesser one called Submissive. The feminist is a feminist, whether she chooses to be dominant or submissive or neither. Perhaps it is more like this:

Dominant - Feminist - Submissive

where she can choose either on a linear scale with no hierarchy involved at all. One is no better than the other, except as it relates to her personal feelings, perspective and desires.

There seems to be a popular sense, a misconception, that Dominant is superior to Submissive, higher, better? Admittedly in the context of a power exchange there may be that appearance. A feeling that the Top is above the bottom, qualitatively, not just physically, but I have always seen the dynamic as, again, "equal but different." I am not a better person because I am a Dominant nor do I see a/my submissive as a lesser person, nor would she view herself in that way. That “who is in control” discussion poses the exact question, who is in charge, who has control, who has the ultimate power. I would suggest that both parties have the power and control because without them being in the relationship 100% each, equally giving themselves to each other, there is not power exchange, no dynamic, and really no relationship.

April 23, 2012

Starting

On so many occasions she had walked by my shop, and I’d smile, and say, “Hey. Hello.”

She would half-smile and keep walking, sometimes looking back, sneaking a peek.

And now, here she was, sitting on the edge of my desk, looking shy, nervous. What was she doing here? Sitting in her little plaid schoolgirl skirt with charcoal gray knee socks, her tender thighs open slightly, offering a tempting space.

I put my hand on the inside of her left knee and she jumped a little. But as I moved my hand up her inner thigh, she opened even further.

April 6, 2012

Noticing

"Yes." she said.

I let go of her chin, resumed circling around her, examining; bothering her attention, noticing. I noted the smooth soles of her feet, her high arches.

I grabbed a handful of hair, holding her head back, noticing her face. She stared up, half smiling, three quarters fearful. I let go her hair and her head flopped back down.

I moved around to her side, noticing the curves of her uplifted breasts, perky nipples.

Circling further, I noticed how her thighs were parted, opened, glimpsing the glistening darkness of her pubes, full and fluffy.

Was she really ready?

February 24, 2012

Calmed Down

She sat quietly on the floor while I circled around looking her over, her head bowed downward.

“Look up here.”

I reached down and touched her shoulder. Her skin was warm, but her nipples were hard and her breasts were covered in goosebumps. She shivered at my touch.

I trailed my hand in her tousled hair, tightly gripping a handful and she whimpered. She blushed when I stood in front of her, staring at her untrimmed pubes, (unusual for a girl her age).

Grabbing her chin I lifted her face up and looked into her eyes, “Are you ready now?”

February 16, 2012

Sit

“Gather yourself up.”

She collected her things and we walked out. She slid into the passenger’s seat and as I drove off, she just sat quietly.

When we got to my house, I took her wrist and walked her in. She handed me her purse and stood nervously in the middle of the room.

“Stand right there.”

I went and adjusted the heat, poured myself a glass of wine and returned to her.

I lifted her top off over her head, then pulled off her shorts and panties. Finally, I removed her sandals. She stood there, wonderfully naked.

“Sit down.”




August 27, 2011

Meditative Head Space

While reading some discussions on FetLife I came across a description of a state of mind that transported me back over 30+ years in time. A woman was discussing a condition where she was present in the moment but “separate” from the activities going on around her. It does not seem like an out of the body experience, or even that thing that many refer to as “sub space” (more on that later). Here is a link to the FetLife discussion - Mental relating to Physical... where you can read her full posting and all of the various comments by others.

I am sub-setting the conversation for those who do not FetLife, and in the likely case that the discussion might disappear or be archived at some point in the future.
Mental relating to Physical...
by MasterCharles_pet - August 17, 2011
"Just recently, I met my Master and sister slave for the first time. They came to determine if We All...fit Together, which, I am proud to say, We did."

"Something happened that I wanted to share, and see if anyone else has had a similar experience... "
"After a very physical session...well, as physical as One can get in a motel room...I felt myself seem to go into a state very very similar to subspace... I got totally quiet...eyes closed and deep within myself... I could hear Master and donna talking, but it was as if I was removed from the situation... though physically, I could not have been closer to Master, my entire body touching His. I could not answer questions .... until I was "Brought around" by Master asking if I were alright. I wanted to explain to Him that I was much, much better than simply alright...that I felt almost euphoric. That was not the worst beating I have ever been through...far from it... but it seemed so amazingly intimate, as if I gave myself over to Him..."
- - snip - -
"What I feel is that I have learned an introspective skill...where I can actually disappear inside myself, and there keep the joy and hope I have found in being a slave to a Master... and it is hypnotic, calming, possessed... I wish I could share this ability with my sister slaves, friends etc., so they could let themselves go and retreat inside themselves this way."
There follows comments and discussion, and then she adds:
"Understand what everyone is saying....and yes, perhaps it is...simple enough to be defined as subspace.... but I have been there too...and it was brought on during a mind fuck...an intentional act....this was more like a dream, less physical...less a loss of control, and more a deliberate...escape. If it were subspace, I would have recognized it as such, and hardly needed to expound upon it. This was more of a meditative, introspective state...not brought on by pain, or confusion....but brought on by a need to remain...intact."

As I said, I was particularly impressed with the "altered" state of mind she discusses. I understand her distinction between this meditative state of mind,and what she knows as sub space.

Many years ago, I was in the Galleria, in Houston, Texas, where I was living. I was standing at the railing on the top level, looking down into the open spaces below. It was a weekday afternoon, not particularly busy or crowded, but there was a steady flow of people around and the attendant background noise you would expect from such a shopping crowd. I was leaning my arms on the top of the railing and had a foot resting on the lower bar of the railing.

As I stood there I “de-focused” my eyes and let my mind break concentration from specifics. I felt myself shift into a state of mind where it was if everything going on around me was a cloud. Not a series of distinct and individual occurrences but a greater mass. Hearing everything going on, I remember the thought coming into my mind, “This is the noise that humans makes.”

This feeling lasted for a short period of time, probably less than 5 minutes, although I was not sure how much time had really passed. It was very much like she talked about above, “ it was as if I was removed from the situation”.


From my own perspective, this state of mind was not unexpected. I had been reading “The Teachings of Don Juan” by Carlos Castaneda, and other books in the series. In his writings he talks about the concept of “stopping the world”. Which I see as stopping your participation in the world, disconnecting from active or passive involvement from the goings on around you and being apart and separate from everything while being thoroughly in the midst of it all. (For more depth you might want to read the Introduction at Carlos Castaneda's Don Juan's Teachings).

So, it was something that I had been thinking about and in the de-focusing and clearing of my mind, I had actually hoped for such a state to be induced. After a few minutes the feeling cleared and I was back in the present moment, in the midst of a mid afternoon crowd of shoppers.


The similarities of these two events and the various notions of sub space have caused me to wonder about methods for reaching meditative states.

Have any readers had a “sub space” experience similar to the one reported above, something that went beyond what we collectively think of as sub space? What was it like and how was it different? Have others found that sub space functions as a state of mind that leads to a deeper or different meditative state? How, if at all, has it affected your submission?

I am also curious if anyone was a reader/follower of Castaneda and his books about his adventures with the Yaqui Indians, or might have practiced/attempted any of the mental states he discusses in his books?


July 5, 2011

Agnes's Birthday

Continued from here

Frederick picked up the phone and called to make reservations for the evening. The phone rang several times and continued to ring, not even rolling over to an answering machine. He double checked the time on his watch, surprised there was no answer. Finally he hung up and turned to the keyboard to set a reminder to call again in a half hour and put his attention on applying the first coat of wax on his boots. As he was working the soft warm wax into the leather he thought about his plans for the evening and wondered how Agnes would fair. He recalled how startled she had been the first time they went to Patrick’s establishment. Her apprehension over the attention she drew from the other men in the bar, her obvious jealousy over the affection displayed by Gretchen and her strict familial influences when it came to things like the water pipe and hashish. She had certainly relaxed over the past months but just as she had bristled at previous exposures to more base proclivities, she was going to be challenged again tonight.

After applying wax to both boots he again sat them in front of the window so that the heat of the sun would soften and open the leather and help it to absorb the wax. It was still too early to call about reservations so he went to the bedroom and pulled the footlocker out from under the bed and set it on the bed bench. He carefully inventoried the various implements to be sure he had all he would be needing. He took out two riding crops, a quirt and a very old tawse, all to be cleaned and treated.

As he was coming out of the bedroom the computer chimed it’s reminder and he called again to make arrangements for the night. They answered this time and he set a reservation for a party of three in the back dining room for 8:15. He inquired to be sure they had a particular Riesling d'Alsace and was assured that it be cooled and waiting. He asked the hostess if she would be sure to pass along the reservation time to Patrick and she assured him that she would.

Frederick realized he had only given Agnes the sketchiest background on the plans for the evening. But that was just as well as he wanted her a bit off balance through the night. Well, not off balance but he did not want her distracted from the matters of the moment by anticipation of later planned events or concerns about things to come. Agnes could be such a worrier, her responses were more relaxed when she had no idea what was about to happen. He resolved to divert any questions about plans for the evening but he did need to call her and provide a few basic instructions.

When Agnes answered the phone, she sounded as if she had just woken up.

“Are you awake?” Frederick asked.

“Oh, yes. I had just dozed off here on the couch for a little bit. I was up very early this morning. I’m excited and looking forward to our date tonight. I wasn’t able to sleep for thinking about this evening. I also wanted to get a head start on my hair. It will take a lot of work to get it the way you want it.”

“I'm glad you are excited about the evening. But it is just dinner out, and then some music, perhaps some dancing.”

“Oh Frederick, you are always minimizing things. It is my birthday and I’m so excited. I remember your comments when we were shopping, about finding special events to show off my lovely new clothes. I’m sure tonight will be wonderful, it certainly will be for me. Maybe you don’t know how much I enjoy our time together?”

“I very much enjoy our time together as well, Agnes, more than you may know. Speaking of dresses, I wanted to be sure you were planning to wear the little black dress tonight?”

“I had not decided yet which of the three outfits to wear, that was part of my morning confusion.”

“Agnes, I want you to wear the little black dress, along with the matching stockings and lingerie we bought to go with it. Also, I want you to wear the black heels and the sliver necklace and earrings that match the outfit so well. You remember, the items I pointed out the other day when you were showing me the jewelry your mother had given you?”

“Okay, thank you, I think it will be a nice looking outfit. Although I do like the bright colored floral dress. And I’m not sure I have all the necessary matching underthings to go with the little black dress.”

“The black dress will be perfect for the occasion. You don’t have all of the things we bought to go with it?”

“Yes, I do Frederick. But, well, it is, the problem is, that not all of my usual underthings were included in the purchases.”

“Ahh, yes, I understand. Simply wear the black dress and the matching items we got to go with it. You don’t need to wear anything else.”

“Okay Frederick. You know I will be uncomfortable dressed that way?”

“Yes, I understand you will Agnes.”

Alright Frederick, I will trust your judgement. The little black dress it is.”

“Good girl.”

Frederick was grinning to himself, knowing that she would find the dress code a little challenging, and recognizing her penchant for worry and over analysis of events. But in the past couple months, she had improved quite a bit and now took most things in stride, particularly when he set out specifics. He noticed she had come to trust in his judgement, knowing that while he offered challenges, he always had the situation well in hand and thought through.

“Is there anything else on your mind that we need to talk about Agnes?”

“I don’t think so, unless you want to tell me your plans for the evening?”

Frederick smiled to himself and with a chuckle in his voice said, “I will come around to pick you up at 7:30. I’m looking forward to this evening.”

With just a little disappointment sounding in her voice she said,“Me too Frederick, very much so. I am sure I will have a good time.”

“I am sure you will Agnes. Good bye for now, I will see you at 7:30.”

“Okay Frederick, thank you.”


Frederick hung up the phone and turned his attention to the cleaning and polishing of the leather goods he had brought out. After he finished with the leather cleaner he put a hefty coat of creme onto the leather of each piece and placed them in the window with his boots, to let them warm and absorb the moisture.


After putting everything away Frederick realized it was lunch time. He made himself a hefty pocket bread sandwich and a bowl of fruit and yogurt. He was excited about the upcoming evening, Agnes’s birthday, and the potentials he had in mind for the night.

As he was cleaning up from lunch the phone rang. It was Patrick, calling to check on the plans for the evening. Frederick confirmed the reservation time and agreed to Patrick’s plans. He said he would see him at dinner and was looking forward to introducing him to Agnes.

Phone call completed and dishes put away, Frederick turned his attention to his desk and several business matters that were begging his attention. He made several calls to business associates, planned some meetings for the upcoming week or two, and settled down to write a business plan for his most recent venture. His mind was swept away into capitalistic schemes, and organizational structure, planning tactics and counter moves. The afternoon slipped away and before he knew it the day light was fading and he realized it was time to put the work aside and get ready for the evening.

Frederick dialed Agnes’s number but it rang through and the call was picked up by the answering machine. Just as he was leaving her a message to call him back she picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“It’s Frederick, I was just calling to be sure everything is okay for this evening?”

“Oh, yes sir, everything is just fine. I was just getting out of the shower and could not get to the phone quickly enough.”

“Okay, very good. I’ll see you at 7:30.”

“Okay Frederick, goodbye.”

Frederick picked up the leather implements and placed them on the coffee table between the couches. He spent a little time arranging and re-arranging them until he had them just as he wished, looking like they were just casually there even though he had meticulously arranged them. He picked up his boots, took them into the bedroom and placed them at the foot of the bed and undressed to take his shower and get ready.

After his shower he shaved and put on a sparing amount of aftershave. The alcohol in the lotion stung. He combed his hair, brushed his teeth, hung up the damp towel and headed to the closet to pick out his clothes for the evening. He pulled out and pulled on a pair of dark charcoal hard wool slacks. He wound a wide black leather belt through the loops and put on a starched light yellow collar-less shirt, tucked it in, zipped up and buttoned his slacks and buckled the belt.

He went over and sat down on the bed bench and slipped one foot, and then the next into his boots and worked the laces through the eyelets and around the hooks. He cinching them up snugly, buried the tag ends of the laces into the folds of the boot top and pulled his pant cuffs down over the boots. He stood and went to the wall mirror to straighten his clothes. He loosened his belt buckle and adjusted his gig line until it was perfectly aligned, and then buckled the belt again. He went and pulled a blazer out of the closet, slipped it on and stood in front of the mirror again to assess the combination. Satisfied, he went to the dresser and collected his money and wallet and keys, and loaded his pockets. He took off the jacket and draped it over the back of the dressing chair and went to the living room to sit down and relax for a while.

He sat looking out the window as the night sky darken and the horizon lost all light. He was startled when the buzzer rang. He looked down to the street and saw that the car had arrived. He went and got his jacket, laid it over his arm and headed down to meet the driver.

He greeted the driver and let himself be ushered into the backseat of the car. He reminded him that he needed to stop at the small flower shop around the corner, and the car pulled away. They drove down the street and around the corner and pulled up in front of the florist. Frederick stepped out and went and collected the rose buds he had ordered. He got back into the car and they drove off toward Agnes’s apartment. He sorted through the roses and found the best bud of the bunch and sat it on the seat.

When the car pulled up in front of Agnes’s building Frederick picked up the rose bud, climbed out of the car and left the back door open. He walked up the stairs, rang the bell and Agnes opened the door. Frederick was startled by how lovely she looked. Her hair hung down exactly as he had hoped it would, partly down over her shoulders and partly down the front of her dress. He stepped around her into the apartment and then turned to look at her more completely.

She was wearing the little black dress and it fit her perfectly. It came just a third of the way down her thighs, short by some standards but that was precisely as he wanted it. The dress just covered the tops of the dark thigh high stockings and the black high heels finished off the outfit perfectly.

“You look absolutely gorgeous young lady!”

Agnes acted coy and shy but said, “Well thank you, very much. I feel very dressed up in all of this. It’s not something I would normally wear on my own but I love how it feels and I love that you chose it for me.”

Frederick stepped forward and reached for the slit at the front of the dress, slipping his hand inside and lightly brushing her skin of her breast with the backs of his knuckles. He pulling the dress out slightly and worked at pinning the rose on above her left breast. He could see her shiver and shake just slightly at his touch. She involuntarily pulled away just a bit at first, but settled herself and let him proceed with pinning the rose on. He loved how her skin felt against the back of his hand and her shivered reaction. That, and the combination of the scent of the rose and her perfume were working their magic on him and he felt a little more than slightly aroused.

He stepped back and looked at her again, rose bud in place and smiled a broad smile. “You look absolutely lovely! Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, I think so, although I couldn’t decide which handbag to use with this outfit.”

Frederick smiled and said, “You won’t need a handbag this evening Agnes. Give me your keys and what ever else you need to bring along and I’ll put them in my coat pockets.”

Agnes went to a little side table and picked up keys, and a lipstick and a compact and handed them to Frederick. He put them into various pockets of his jacket.

“There. Is there anything else?”

“No, that is it. I’m ready to go.”

Frederick took hold of Agnes’s wrist and walked her out the door, down the stairs and ushered her into the back seat of the car. He noticed the look of surprise on her face when she saw the a car, with a driver, sitting in front of her building, waiting for her. He closed the door and walked around to the other side of the car, opened the door and slide in. He picked up the bundle of roses from seat and set them on the back package tray, “These are for the table at dinner.”

Agnes was very quiet, but then managed a soft, “This is really something Frederick, I was fully expecting to be walking to dinner. It’s such a lovely night out, I thought you might enjoy the outing. But I’m grateful, I was worried about too much walking in these heels.”

They both laughed and Frederick said, “It’s your birthday and a special night, so special arrangements are appropriate.”


Agnes turned and looked out the car window as it snaked it’s way through the streets and very shortly pulled up in front of the restaurant. Seeing that they arrived, she reached for the door handle and started to open the door to get out. Frederick put his hand on her arm and shook his head. She stopped and waited for him to get out of the car and come around and open her door. He reached down and offered his hand as she swung her legs out and onto the ground. He looked down and saw just how far up the dress rode when she was sitting and how lovely her legs looked. She took his hand and pulled herself up out of the car, also noticing how Frederick was staring at her. As she stood up, she consciously pulled down on the hem of the dress.

Frederick leaned in and picked up the roses. He told the driver that he would call when they were ready to be move on to their next destination, estimating it would be at least two hours from now. He pushed the door closed and the car pulled away. Frederick took hold of Agnes’s arm and guided her across the sidewalk, through the door and into the restaurant. As they walked into the foyer, Frederick greeted the people in front of him.

“Good evening, Frederick party, we have a reservation for dinner.” The maitre d' looked down at his list and then back at Frederick and said, “Party of three?” Frederick said, “Yes, but only two of us are here now. We can be seated, we don’t need to wait.”

And then . . .

March 16, 2011

Frederick - Courtyard Afternoon

Continued from Agnes makes lunch

Frederick watched her walking away, enjoying the way her body moved. There was a natural flow to the dress, it clung at her hips and accented the shape of her buttocks. The hem of the skirt flipped up to the back of each thigh alternately as she took each step and her hair swung in cadence with her arms. He watched her as she climbed her way back up the spiral stairway until she disappeared into the building.

He turned and walked back toward the far corner of the courtyard. He wanted to inspect the bushes where Agnes had been foraging earlier. He wanted to see where she had gone and what she might have seen. As he approached the shrubs he saw her footprints in the soft soil and could see where she seemed to have carefully stepped over the ground cover and flowers and moved back into the bushes. There was a trail where she had passed most of the way through the bushes and had almost reached the walkway that was hidden behind the hedgerow. Frederick walked on through the hedge and onto the walkway along the edge of the building.

Moving along the edge of the building he heard a movement and rustling inside the shed. The sound made him smile. He spoke in a calm and soft voice, “Hello sweet girl.” Then he moved on along the walkway, past the screening and onto the garden tool shed. In the garden shed he picked up a rake and went about cultivating the ground both he and Agnes had walked across. He took the knife out of it’s sheath and pruned a few errant branches away. Satisfied, he returned the trimmings and the rake to the garden shed. As he walked back he heard the rustling again and he paused to lean in and look through the screening. There she was; such a beauty. He said, “Such a sweet girl,” then moved on and followed the walkway back around the far end of the hedgerow and followed the path back into the opening.

Frederick stood still, enjoying the afternoon sun shining on his back, warming him, soothing his sore muscles. He felt good. Finally he focused his attention on the courtyard. He looked around, surveying the areas where he would need to direct Franco to focus his attention. His mind engaged, trying to calculate the size of crew that would be best for the work to be done.


Off in to the distance he spotted Agnes coming down the stairway with the picnic basket on her arm, once again struggling with the tree branches. When she reached the bottom of the stairs and got out onto the pathway she moved the load to her hand. As she walked up to Frederick he reached out and gave her a broad smile and a small greeting hug.

“Thank you very much, Agnes. I was beginning to wonder if you had gotten lost, but I see you have been very busy.”

He took the basket from her, put his arm around her shoulder and lead her over toward the grassy knoll where they could spread out a picnic spot to sit and have a bite to eat. As they walked, she put her arm around his back. Her hand went around to his opposite side and fell onto the sheath of his knife.

“What is this Frederick?” she asked, grabbing and pulling at the sheath through his shirt.

“It’s a knife.”

Just then he stopped, set the basket on a wooden bench, took out the table cloth and spread it on the ground.

“This will be a nice spot for our little picnic. There is a nice view of the big trees from here and the sun will help keep us warm.”

He took Agnes’s hand and guided her down to a sitting position on the ground, turned and picked up the basket, sat down himself and placed the basket between them. Agnes immediately started pulling out plates and glasses and wrapped bundles of food. She pulled out a bottle of mineral water and handed it to Frederick to open. He was pleased that she had chosen mineral water rather than wine as he had suggested. While Agnes busied herself arranging sandwiches and coleslaw onto plates she smiled and handed the fruit to Frederick.

“Perhaps you can use your knife to cut these for us.”

Frederick peeled and sectioned the fruit, arranging pieces on each plate, along with the sandwiches and slaw.

He poured drinks for the two of them, setting the glasses on the bench behind them and then handed a plate to Agnes and took one for himself.

“This is a lovely meal you have prepared for us Agnes. This is much nicer than I imagined I had the making for in the house. Thank you very much.”

He handed her a glass, picked up his, smiled and offered a toast, “Bon appetit.” They tapped their glasses and took a good healthy drink. They both laughed, and settled quietly to eating. As they ate, Frederick talked more about the courtyard, specifically the need to have some maintenance work done. He pointed here and there as he talked, and Agnes followed his conversation and gestures, quietly taking in all of his explanation but not saying anything in response other than the occasional exclamation, indicating her attention and understanding.

After they finished eating, Agnes gathered the plates and linen and glasses and stowed them away back into the basket. Once everything was collected and put away Agnes reached down into the bottom of the basket and pulled out a little bag of wrapped chocolates she had found in the refrigerator. She offered the bag to Frederick who took it, smiling. He reached into the bag, took out a few pieces and offered some back to Agnes. She smiled in return and they ate the little chocolate dessert. When the chocolates were gone, Frederick folded the bag and put it back into the basket, pushed the basket up under the bench and laid back on the ground with his arms crossed under the back of his head. Agnes followed his lead, and laid out on her side facing Frederick and rested her head on her curled arms.


Frederick jerked his head up, not realizing he had even fallen asleep. He was groggy and dazed and disoriented. It seemed almost dark; the sun had gone down behind the buildings and the afternoon shade was heavy. He turned to speak to Agnes but she was not there.

“God damn it,” he thought to himself, “she has wandered off again.

Frederick sprung up and looked around, confused. He turning left, then right, still he could not see her. He walked down to the center of the courtyard where he could see in all directions. Still he could not see her. He walked back to the bench where they had eaten and wondered if her curiosity had drawn her to the corner again. He walked off in that direction looking here and there for her, but she was no where to be found. He reached the corner and there was no sign of her. He cursed again, and turned and headed back. When he rounded the hedges there she was, sitting on the bench, pulling the water bottle and a glass out of the picnic basket.

She stood up and said, “Oh, Frederick, there you are. This is such a beautiful place. I absolutely . . . ”

“Where have you been?” he interrupted.

She half turned and pointed off behind herself and said, “I was just looking at the little pond of koi over there.”

“This is the second time you have wandered off from me, even after I instructed you not to stray.”

“But you were napping and I wanted to let you rest. I heard the little waterfall there and went to have a look at it.”

“I am very disappointed in your behavior and am not sure what it is going to take to impress upon you the importance of following my instructions.”

“But Frederick, I just walked over there by the little pond.”

“Agnes, I told you I understand your curiosity but I cannot have you wandering off.”

“Frederick, I am sorry, I . . .” but she trailed off, lowering her head.

“I have already told you that ‘I am sorry’ is not good enough. When you are with me, you will follow my instructions or there is no point.”

“Frederick, I don’t understand why you are being so mean. Do you not want me to be here? Would you rather I leave?”

Frederick stepped forward and grabbed hold of her shoulder. She had to look up to see his face as he spoke.

“Stand here and be still. I very much want you here, but you can not just roam free. This is the second time you have wandered off, even after I told you not to. I have good reason to insist that you stay put and not go off by yourself.”

He reached down and untied the rope that was around Agnes’s waist, and stretched it out. He folded it in half, took out his knife and cut the rope into two equal pieces. He tossed the pieces over his shoulder.

“Sit down on the bench.”

Agnes just stood there, looking back at Frederick. Frederick looked directly into her eyes, with his own steady gaze. She had a defiant look, although he thought he saw her lip quivering.

“Did you hear me?”

“I heard you.”

“Sit down Agnes.”

“No.”

“Agnes,” and then he paused with his gaze locked onto her eyes, returning his own resolute determination, "You need to do as you are told, or you can go home right now."

Still she continued to look up at him, unmoving but her eyes were softening. Frederick stood his ground, looking directly into her eyes, his expression placid, but determined.

“Agnes, please sit down on the bench.”

Very slowly, reluctantly, she stepped back, glanced behind herself and sat down on the bench. She sat huddled, looking up at Frederick.

"Are you going to do as you are told?"

She sat and stared, silent, as if still weighing the choices. Then, she slumped in resignation and nodded her head.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

Again, she was silent, just nodding her head, settling into the seat even more.

Frederick said, “Trust me Agnes, you will understand soon enough.” She just sat quietly, seemingly resigned to her choice.

Frederick removed the bandannas from around his neck and folded them neatly into a wide blindfold. He went around behind Agnes and placed the blindfold across her eyes then pulled it taut to the back of her head and tied three sound knots. He came back around and asked, “How does that feel? Is it comfortable?”

Her response was a soft and simple, “It is okay.”

“Now I am going to bind your legs and wrists.”

Agnes nodded her head.

Frederick pushed her skirt half way up her thighs then took hold of her knees and positioned them directly together. He wrapped the rope under the back of her knees, then up across the top of her thighs, and back around underneath, three wraps around. Then he wrapped the rope around the coils, down between her thighs and knees, cinching the other wrappings tighter, and tied off the ends.

“Put your hands behind your back.” She balked at this, but Frederick stood in still silence, waiting for her to respond, “Well?” Finally she did as he asked. He went around behind the bench and wrapped the rope around her wrists, and then around itself, just as he had done with her knees. He wrapped the ends of rope through one of the rails of the bench seat and tied it tight.

“Comfortable?”

She did not answer.

After a moment he said, “Sit here and be still. Do not attempt to move or change position. Sit absolutely still. Even if you hear me talking, or I talk to you, do not respond. I need you to be quiet. I will let you know very directly if and when it is okay for you to move or to speak, and until I do, be quiet. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Frederick.”

He put his hands on her shoulders, “I am going away for a few minutes but won’t be far off. If you hear me returning, do not speak to me, be still and be quiet.“

“Please don’t leave me here by myself, not like this.”

“It will be alright Agnes, trust me, you will never be out of my sight, but I need you to be silent and still.”


Frederick walked the path to the hedgerow and turned down the walkway along the edge of the building. When he reached the screening he looked in again and muttered a soft “Hello.” He took out his keys and unlocked the door to the inner room of the shed. He closed and latched the outer door and then took down a leash from the tack wall opposite the inner door. It was a short sturdy leash, perhaps 2 feet long, heavy rolled leather, with brass hardware at one end, and a wrist loop at the other. He draped the leash around the back of his neck and opened the inner door and walked in, closing it behind him.

He stepped forward slowly and bent down on one knee. He spoke in a calm and soft voice, “Hello sweet girl, how are you?” He reached out and took gentle handfuls of jowls and affectionately rubbed with his thumbs. She offered no resistance and clearly enjoyed the affection. He pulled the leash off his shoulders and clipped the brass snap to the ring on the collar. He stood, pulled up on the leash and she got to her feet and followed him to the door.

He led her through the inner door, then unlatched and opened the outer door. They walked on through and out into the courtyard, down the walkway and back toward the clearing. When they turned into the clearing, she started off to the right, almost walking in front of Frederick and nearly tripping him. He jerked on the lead and returned her to his left side and she fell back into a proper pace, at his side and slightly back and half step or so, just as she had been trained.

They followed the winding path and arrived at the clearing and Frederick could see Agnes sitting on the bench, exactly as he had left her although she had crossed her ankles and tucked her feet back under the bench. She did not look relaxed, which did not surprise him. He knew this was a challenging situation for her, for anyone really, to be contained so tightly, bound and blindfolded. He could imagine how her mind was racing, trying to make sense of it all while struggling to accept his control and instruction and accept this predicament.

Rather than sitting relaxed, she seemed hyper-alert. She turned her head in his direction as he approached. It was as if she was watching him coming toward her. When he passed in front of Agnes, Frederick turned and circled around behind the bench and stopped immediately behind her. He saw Agnes make very slight movements of her head as if trying to focus her ears to the sounds around her, but other than that she was remaining completely still and silent, exactly as he had instructed her.

“Agnes, I am going to untie your hands but I want you to keep them behind you. Do not move in anyway. Nod your head slightly if you understand.”

Agnes nodded her head.

Frederick reached down, pulled the knot loose, and unwrapped the rope from around her wrists. Agnes moved her hands to shrug the rope off, but then clasped her hands together again. Frederick pulled the rope loose and let it drop to the ground.

He circled back around in front of the bench, and stopped directly in front of Agnes. He tightened his hold on the lead, pulled it forward and they closed the distance to Agnes.

“Agnes, you are going to feel some movement. I want you to continue to remain calm and still. Understood?”

Agnes slowly moved her head up and down.

“Good girl. You will feel some movement of the bench and maybe some touch. In a minute I am going to reach out and remove your blindfold so you can see. Do not be alarmed. Everything is under control. I have the situation completely in hand.”

Agnes slowly nodded her head again.


Frederick pull the lead forward so the cat was standing directly in front of Agnes, sniffing at her knees, and putting her nose in the air. She was tasting the scent of this stranger in front of her. She was completely calm, but very curious. She turned her head and looked at Frederick and he offered her comfort and calm; more sounds than words. He stepped back and pulled up and forward on the lead. She rose up and moved closer, standing on her hind legs and putting her wide front paws on the bench, on either side of Agnes’s legs. She was eye to eye with Agnes, still sniffing the air around this new person.

She turned her head to Frederick again, and he said, “Good girl, just be calm, everything is fine.”

He realized suddenly that Agnes probably thought he was talking to her, and said, “Okay Agnes, now I am going to remove your blindfold and introduce you to my friend. Close your eyes and only open them on my command. Again, everything is fine, just relax and do not speak yet.”

Frederick sat down on the edge of the bench, reached over and pulled the blindfold up and off Agnes’s head, noticing that her eyes were indeed closed, tightly. He held off saying anything for a minute, to give everything a moment to settle down, and then, “Okay, Agnes, you can open your eyes now.”

Agnes opened her eyes and pulled her head back, startled. Her eyes opened even wider with the realization. There was shock and alarm in her eyes but she did not appear to be panicked. She sat stark still, staring up into the cats face. She was frozen and Frederick noticed that she was holding her breath. Frederick put his hand on her shoulder, massaging, and felt the tension in her muscles.

“Agnes, just relax and let your breath out. Everything is under control and there is no danger here.”

Frederick looked at the cat to affirm his control and saw that she was completely calm, but was definitely curious about this new person.

“This is Sheaden. She belongs to the man who owns the corner building. He is affiliated with the circus company here in town.”

At the mention of her name, the cat reared her head and leaned it to the side, looking at Frederick like she was expecting something. He looked at Agnes and saw she still had not moved, although she was breathing. He rubbed her shoulder and the back of her neck.

“Agnes, she is retired from the circus and was brought here to live a quiet and peaceful life. She is completely tame. She has always been very good with people, but she can be very protective of this space, her home.”

Frederick felt the muscles in her shoulder and back relaxing. He continued to rub her neck and she had turned her gaze to him, watching him speak. She seemed to be drawing calm from his words and relaxed, matter of fact manner.

“You can bring your hands up slowly now and reach out and pet her.”

But Agnes did not make a move, she just sat still, looking back and forth between Frederick and the cat in front of her.

“Go ahead Agnes,” and he slid his hand down her arm and encouraged her to move it forward. “She is familiar with you now and will not react to your attention or touch, other than perhaps to purr.” Frederick hoped this light hearted remark and a smile would help her relax even further.

Agnes slowly brought her hand up and placed it on the side of the cat’s neck, working her fingers into the cat’s fur and scratching slowly, tentatively. Sheaden tilted her head slightly in response to the scratching behind her ear and a deep rumble came from within her chest. Frederick knew the cat liked to be scratched behind the ear and was smiling in her own way.

“She is very much enjoying your attention, you are scratching her in exactly the right place, just behind her ear. She is smiling at you and voicing her pleasure.”

Agnes gave a slight smile to Frederick and continued petting her. Agnes was noticeably more relaxed now, she seemed to feel safe again.

“She is a beautiful animal Frederick, and she does seem friendly and calm. This is why you did not want me exploring on my own?”

“I assure you, if you had come up upon her in her den she would not have been calm and friendly. There is no telling how she would have reacted to you, but I can assure you she would have become very territorial. For now I have her relaxed and under control. Since you are with me, and she was allowed to get a sense of you, this is going to be okay. As long as you are in my company, you do not present a threat to her or her territory.”

Agnes smiled, and nodded. She was now stroking and scratching and caressing the cats head, neck and ears with both hands. Frederick settled on the bench next to Agnes while she played with the cat. He reached down and undid the bindings around her knees. After he was done, he sat back and watched his two girls interacting and enjoying each other. He leaned on the bench back and put his arm around Agnes’s shoulders, massaging them slightly, enjoying the feel of her skin under his hands.

Agnes seemed to take to the cat naturally now. She had lost the palpable sense of fear and was showing a great appreciation for the animal. That pleased him, it was still another interesting twist to this young country girl who seemed to be such a mix of contradictory experiences and perspectives; fascinating.

Finally, Frederick broke into the silence and said that it was getting dark and it would be best for him to return Sheaden to her shed. He told Agnes to gather everything together while he was gone so that when he returned they could go back to the apartment.

“We will get dressed and I will take you out to dinner. It has been a long day, we have been through an ordeal and the weekend is coming. I think we deserve a little celebration.”

Agnes smiled at his suggestion and seemed pleased that the day would continue onto the evening. Frederick was quietly thrilled at the way Agnes responded. As he returned Sheaden to her shed, his thoughts wondered onto just how far he could probably take Agnes. Under the right circumstances, there was probably nothing that she couldn’t do.

From Agnes's perspective

February 16, 2011

I Like Your Dream


Read a previous dream . . .

She said, "Still feeling sexed up. Want! More! Orgasms! I dreamed, you holding my hands between my legs and moving them for me."

click to play
Storage/player by the Box.net
"I like your dream, perhaps there will be a chance for me to hold you that way tonight, cuddled up between my legs, knees bent, pulled up, leaning your back against my chest, my chin resting on your shoulder, mouth against your ear, whispering, deep slow harsh words, your hands down between your spread legs, my feet tucked inside your ankles, pulling them out and away to open you more . . .

. . . my arms encompassing yours, pressed together, scrunching your breasts together, hard achy nipples being brushed by one hand while the other holds your hands pressed down into your sex, two of your fingers curled and slightly inside you, and two from the other hand on top of those two, pushing them all in more with my hand on top of them both, pushing down deeper between your legs, pushing your knuckles and palm hard against your mound and hood, two of my fingers pushing your four fingers in deeper, all our fingers filling you."

"And each time you get close I will move my second hand down hard on top of my other, and push even harder, moving all of our hands up and down, slightly side to side, as I bite into your neck, just at your shoulders, and clench down my teeth tight in your flesh, holding that bite until your spasms and shaking pass, then move my mouth back to your ear and tell you what a wonderful good girl you are, so hot, and wet, and shaking, and lighten the push against your hands slightly, and brush over your breasts and nipples again, still moving your hands for you, slowly until it builds up once again, until I once again, and again, we get you close so that I will move my second hand down hard on top of my other, and push even harder, moving all of our hands up and down . . . .

. . . and then move my hand to the back of your head, tangling my fingers in your hair and taking a tight grip on a handful, pulling your head back and out to the side toward my shoulder, turning your face toward me, and locking my mouth on top of yours, dancing my tongue over your lips, in through between them, back and forth across them, past your teeth, and against your tongue, mouths full and wide open, consuming each other, and pushing hard, sucking your breath from you, giving it back, pumping you lungs, and holding your hands between your legs and moving them for you, building once again, until you tense up, passionately biting my lip as you cum once again, wanting, yet, more, orgasms!"

January 14, 2011

Jeans Girl - Friday Flash Fiction

(Source image: "Jeans Girl" by Reinfried Marass. Photo provided by Rozewolf.)
Becky arrived at the diner as the sun was setting. She went in, and I followed a few minutes later. I took a seat at the counter, giving me a perfect view of her in her booth. She smiled, I smiled, she blushed. She’d been my girl until last fall.

While eating her burger and fries, she repeatedly feed quarters into the old Wurlitzer, calling up soulful C/W tunes. She’d sashay across the floor, doing a little two step dance, sexy as hell, flirty as hell too.

When she finished eating, she waved good bye. I waited three minutes, and followed.


I came up behind her as she peered in wondering why the old beast wouldn't start. I wrapped my arms around her, cupping her breasts. I put my mouth against her ear and whispered in a deep gravel voice:

Wild thing, I think you move me
But I wanna know for sure
Come on, let me hold you tight
Come on, come on wild thing,
you make my heart sing.

I leaned forward against Becky’s back, bending her over the fender and reached around for her belt buckle. “Let’s give this relationship a good tuneup.” I tossed the rotor over the windshield into the front seat.


(Use the supplied photo and write a flash fiction of 153-208 words. incorporating the phrase, "...a good tuneup...")
(Click for details on FFF!)

For my birthday I was given the album, The New Bye & Bye: Four New Songs Plus the Best Of the Train Wreck Years, by Chip Taylor & Carrie Rodriguez. Driving to work I was listening to Wild Thing, which was written by Chip Taylor, and originally recorded in 1965 (a year before The Troggs). This rendition is particularly funky and guttural, and it invaded my thoughts as I was imagining the finishing touches of this story.
The album is a great collaboration and plays a lot like a jam session, very lightly produced. The whole album is a fine example of good ole Texas country music, check it out.

January 3, 2011

Frederick - at Home

Continued from the Nightcap . . .

It was a quiet and dreamy walk from the bar to his apartment. Agnes was hanging onto his arm and leaned against his shoulder, and he was unable to walk at his customary pace. It irritated him a bit but he realized she was probably a little tipsy and lost in her own thoughts to be hurried along. She had clearly been dazzled by the time in the bar, the brandy and the people, the music and the goings on; it was obviously something very new and different for her. Truth be told he was a little over tired and full of the effects of drink himself. He was delighted to have had the opportunity to expose her to a yet another aspect of her new life here in Paris. It was something he intended to continue.

Fortunately, his apartment was only a couple blocks away and took just minutes to reach. When they turned into the building, he slowly followed her up the stairs. He became transfixed with the view of her back side and legs moving slowly up the flights of stairs. When she had been at his apartment the last time he had enjoying the look of her trim ankles, the shape of her calves, and musculature of the backs of her thighs, but this time she had worn an even shorter skirt. He was pleasantly surprised to notice the bikini style panties she was wearing. For some reason he had imagined she would wear much more modest full briefs.

Suddenly they were at the top of the stairs and he nearly ran her over as she stopped, indecisive about where to go. He told her to turn left and follow the hallway, which she did, but she turned down the hallway and walked right out the hallway door onto the balcony, completely missing the apartment door. He reached out and took her arm and pulled her back into the hallway and opened the door to the apartment and led her in. He closed and locked the door, and took her sweater, hanging it on the coat tree.

“Would you like some hot cocoa?” She said she would like that, but that she really needed to use the bathroom. He showed her where it was and turned on the light for her. She closed the door and he went to the kitchen area and busied himself with preparing the milk for the cocoa, getting out the cups and took down a small tray for some chocolates. He hoped that now that they were settled in his apartment she would regain her composure and not be so flighty.

After he had started the milk and gathered the plates and cups he realized she was still in the bathroom and wondered if she had fallen asleep. He leaned in through the doorway to his bedroom and noticed that the attached door to the bath that he always kept shut was ajar. He grinned to himself, imagining that she had seen the other door, peeked through and realized it led into his bedroom. He wondered what was taking her so long.

He returned to check on the milk and just then she came out of the bathroom and asked if she might help? “No, just make yourself comfortable,” and he gestured to the sitting area by the picture window. She walked over and stood in front of the window, looking out at the view of the city. After a couple minutes he noticed she had sat down at the end of one of the couches and was looking over the magazines and books on the table in front of her.

“You have a lot of architectural magazines here, and landscaping gazettes as well. I thought you had said you worked with financial matters?”

“Yes, I do, but landscaping and how it fits with architecture has always been an interest of mine. Tomorrow, or another day, I will show you the courtyard. I have made a deal with the landlord and I have done a complete landscape design. It is a wonderfully vibrant and luscious space, if I do say so myself. I know you will enjoy it.”

“I will look forward to that very much Frederick. You continue to amaze me.”

As he had the preparations underway he walked to the desk on the wall next to the window and tapped out some instructions on a computer. She asked what he was doing but he dismissed her question with an off handed remark about checking some market points. He moved from the desk and sat directly across from her on the opposite couch.

As he settled into his seat he again noticed how short her skirt was, how it had ridden up her legs as she sat on the couch, and his attention was once again drawn to her lovely legs. He noticed her relaxed posture as she leaned forward to look at the magazines, probably not realizing how revealing her posture was, giving him a view of most of her thighs and glimpses through the opening at the front of her blouse. She was a wonderfully attractive young girl, a simple but charming and pretty girl.

She asked, “Is there something wrong?” “No, not at all.“ he said. He realizing he had indeed been staring and she’d ‘caught’ him off guard, appreciating her body and ruminating in his thoughts. Covering up his embarrassment, he said, “The milk is ready. Would you like some chocolates and a little brandy as well?”

He did not wait for an answer as he got up and went to the kitchen and made the cocoa. He retrieved the chocolates and puts them on the tray. He brought the serving platter to the table, placed it between them and returned to his seat across the table. He moved a cup of cocoa in front of her and set a small snifter of brandy down next to it. He pointed out the platter of chocolate, “Help yourself.” As she was blowing and sipping at the hot cocoa, he again found himself staring at her, and looking her over very thoroughly, liking her demure personality.

He pulled his attention away reluctantly and made a comment about the view out the window. She looked out also, and he launched into an exposition of some of the special sites that could be seen from just where they sat. He demonstrated his awareness and knowledge of architecture, commenting on the different styles and periods of a number of the buildings he was pointing out.

Realizing that his cup was empty, he collected the two mugs to go pour more cocoa. Just as he got up, there was a beeping sound from the computer on the desk. He stopped at the desk and attended to the computer for a couple minutes before heading to the kitchen. When he returned with the cups he saw that Agnes has dozed off. He spoke to her and she stirred herself awake and took the mug. They continued talking about Paris as he explored what she had and had not seen or done so far.

After a few minutes, there was signalling from the computer and he excused himself. When he returned, Agnes had fallen asleep on the couch again, leaning herself against the wingback and armrest. He went and retrieved a couple of pillows and a comforter. He repositioned her so she was laying down more naturally and covered her. He sat back down and sipped on his brandy and watched her sleep for a while. He watched her slow deep breathing as her chest heaved and sighed. She made soft noises, nearly snoring. Frederick was glad she was comfortable with him enough to have spent the evening and to now be sleeping so well on his couch. He pondered where he was going to go with this girl that he found so appealing.

He continued looked out the window over the city, and eventually went and cleaned up from the cocoa and treats, and put everything away. When he came back and checked on Agnes, she was still soundly asleep and he decided to lay down and sleep himself. Rather than undressing and going to bed, he stretched out on the day bed in the alcove where he could keep an eye on her and look out the window into the dark night. Nearly immediately, he drifted off to sleep.


He awoke to the soft light of dawn and he found himself partially covered with the comforter he'd given to Agnes. He realized she was curled up next to him, with her head on his shoulder. Her presence next to him made him smile. It felt good and he was pleased things seemed to be advancing well. He adjusted the comforter over the both of them and drifted off back to sleep again.

When he woke up again, she was still cuddled up next to him, sleeping soundly. He looked at the clock and seeing it was 7:30, extricated himself and got up. As he started his morning routine he realized it was Friday and wondered if Agnes was supposed to be working. He looked at the time again and as it was not yet 8:00 AM, he decided there was still a little time before he needed to make a decision. His mind waffled between being responsible and a desire to keep her around for the day and enjoy her company further.

He put on a pot of coffee and went and changed out of his slacks and shirt from the night before into a pair of light linen pants and a long sleeved cotton pull over. As the coffee was finishing, he stepped out onto the balcony to relish the fresh crisp morning air, hoping it would help clear his brandy addled brain a little. As he stood savoring the fresh air of the morning mixed with the scent of coffee brewing he heard the sounds of the springs of the bed in the alcove. He stepped in and saw that Agnes was not awake yet, but had tossed and turned onto her side facing the edge of the bed. He looked at the clock and decided it was time to wake her.

He filled two cups and brought them into the alcove and set them on the side table. He seated himself on the side of the bed. The movement of his weight seemed to awaken Agnes a bit, she stirred and moved herself to the edge of the bed. She wrapped her arms around his knee and thigh, pulling herself in tight against his leg. He reached up and pushed her hair back off her face, put his hand on her cheek, and said, “Good morning.” She simply smiled back at him, nuzzling her cheek into the palm of his hand.

“I assume you are supposed to work today; it is Friday. I will bring the phone so you can call the shop and let them know you are not going to be in to work today. It is 8:30 now, what time should you call?”

“I do not work until 10 o’clock and so any time soon will be fine, but what am I going to tell them, I am not ill and have no excuse?”

“Tell them you have a day of instruction ahead, and will be back fresh and renewed on Monday. Or, tell them you have been kidnapped and are being held captive by a benevolent friend, or fiend. I am sure they will not make much of a fuss, they know you are a reliable and diligent girl. It is just that you will spend the day under my guidance and I will test your diligence.” He noticed the quizzical look on her face and wondered if she had any idea what he might have in store for her, surely not.

He went and got the phone, and Agnes took a big drink of the coffee. He handed her the phone and sat back down. She repositioned herself back against the side of his leg and dialed the phone. She had a brief conversation excusing herself from work. She assured the photographer that she was fine, just not feeling up to par and should be back at work the next day. She thanked him for his understanding and clicked off of the call.

She looked up at Frederick, “Okay.”

He smiled down at her, took the phone and set it on the side table. As they sipped at their coffee he moved his hand under the comforter and placed it on the side of Agnes’s leg, then moved it a little ways up the back of her thigh.

Frederick wondered how Agnes was feeling this morning . . .