"... when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."
-- When Harry met Sally
"The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances; if there is any reaction, both are transformed."
-- Carl Jung
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Marks of love/submission (E)
Pictures courtesy of http://malesubmissionart.com
Scratches along the upper arms... Scratches on the upper back... Nipples are sensitive... Bruises on the chest and upper arm... Redness on the backside...
Four scratch marks in front of my hips on each side where my Goddess was holding on while she was taking me with her strap-on until she came to climax. Flogger streaks along the side of my back. A few straight marks on my backside from her holding back a little less with the cane.
God... I so love it when she leaves marks on me...
I know that for some, post-play marks are a badge of honor. Something that they love to sport, demonstrating something about themselves, whether it be toughness, endurance, kinkyness, or the kind of play they are into. For me, post-play marks aren't about me, they are about my Goddess. That's who is they are for... who they honor. While those marks are powerful reminders of scenes, activities, emotions, and headspace, they are first and foremost marks of ownership and belonging, of her dominance over me and my submission to her, of our intense and passionate love within the context of our D/s relationship. Or is that our D/s relationship within the context of our intense and passionate love?
After spending an entire day together, and having a stretch of perhaps 30 hours in the immediate physical promixity of each other, only apart for maybe 15 minutes total during that time, we still couldn't get enough of each other. Our play was intense, sensual, powerful, erotic, fulfilling, and generally just totally mind-blowing. And I woke up this morning needing more... longing for more... hungry for more... desperate for more....
Right now I'm sitting alone wearing the locked collar, locked wrist cuffs, and locked ankle cuffs that are our ritual when I am at home with her, while my Goddess is still sleeping and I'm writing this entry. The continual tactile sensations of the collar and restraints are more symbols of her ownership of me and my belonging to her. Their effect is that I'm confined to the inside of our home, bound to our physical space, bound to our love and relationship. And yet I've never felt more free in my life. Because freedom is about being unbound spiritually inside ourselves, free to let our souls sore where they may, and about self-expression, and letting my soulmate express herself, without bounds or limits.
And I can't wait for her to get up... I can't wait to see her eyes and her smile... I can't wait for us to be doing stuff together... anything... and I just can't get enough of her...