"... 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

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Foot worship: Rush and excitement (E)

Artwork courtesy of Lunar Black

My Goddess looked absolutely splendid lying on the bed, up on one elbow watching some television, relaxing after a long day. She had told me to refresh her drink, and I was hobbling back to hand it to her. Yes… hobbling.

A bit earlier, when we had come back, she had placed and locked my leather collar around my neck, and she had demanded that I bring her the leather wrist cuffs and ankle cuffs, which she promptly locked on me. The hobbling part was because she clipped the wrist cuffs together and the ankle cuffs together. Oh, how she loves to watch me struggle, puttering around to serve her. And while this inevitably leaves me feeling awkward, I am always happy to entertain my Goddess. The sexiness of her smile of superiority, the mischievousness energy of her having the upper hand, and her dominant giggles, are totally intoxicating.

After preparing her drink the first time, we engaged in one of our favorite card games. We played without me knowing whether she would punish me for winning or for losing. It didn’t really matter because by the time we finished, she needed a new drink, and that’s when I returned, with short hobbling steps, and found her on the bed, irresistibly, dominantly, lying there, and enjoying the spectacle of my minor predicament.

After placing the drink on the side table, my Goddess told me that she needed a foot rub. I instantly felt a rush come over me, and butterflies in my stomach. I could not return to the bottom of the bed fast enough. I fell to my knees, and reached over for one of her feet, not far away from the edge of the bed.

I thoroughly worked over my Goddess’ feet, cupping and kneading the pad of her heels, rubbing and stroking her arches, kneading the forefoot areas, individually massaging and gently stretching her toes, and generally trying to relax every part of her feet.

By then, my Goddess was laying on both her elbows, with her head back, her beautiful hair dropping down freely. She truly looked divine. I could not help but to move in closer, and I gently started reaching for her toes with my tongue. With the first licks, I heard a deep moan come from her, and then a bit of a shiver, and I knew that I had to get a bit more intimate in worshipping her feet.

My tongue made its way under, over, around, and in-between each of her toes. Her deep guttural exhales and moans urged me to go on. Next, I took in different combinations of my Goddess’ toes into my mouth, savoring each of them like delicate, tasty morsels of fine food, and again running my tongue over them, in a half-caress, half-massage kind of way. We were both entranced...

After taking care of both feet, the look in her eyes told me something had been started that would not be stopped. I could feel my Goddess’ need, her hunger. I climbed, as gracefully as I could manage in the clipped cuffs, onto the bed, and began to kiss her beautiful and smooth legs up and down. After a few passes, I settled lower between her legs, pushed my arms under and around the back of her thighs and over to her belly, where my hands reached hers.

As busy as it had been up to now, my tongue’s duties were not over yet. Delicately, I reached in with it, alternating slow and quick movements, teasing more gently and licking more forcefully, and I did my best to quell my Goddess’ hunger. It wasn’t long before she reached a thunderous climax. I moved up and held her in my arms as the post-orgasm trembling diminished to occasional shudders.

Once she had recovered, my Goddess pushed me away a bit, pulled my T-shirt over my head, unclipped my wrist cuffs, and reached for my nipples. This is the usual sign that it is time for more traditional love making, albeit under the condition of the delicious hurt she enjoys inflicting. Through the nipple torture she had so much fun with, she dictated the pace, and eventually the intensity, of an absolutely massive orgasm that wasn’t long in coming.

Monday, February 7, 2011

6 weeks of the Eternity Collar (E)

Image courtesy of http://m-gameboy2.tumblr.com/

It's been almost six weeks since my Goddess has placed the Eternity Collar around my neck, and screwed it closed. And its impact has been all we could have asked for.

Its heft and rigidity are constant reminders to me of what it represents: my submission to my Goddess, her ownership of me, my status as her toy, her pet, her boy.

Its presence, and the thought that I cannot remove it on my own without a very significant amount of trouble, are constant reminders to my Goddess of her dominance and control over me, and of my belonging to her. I am hers.

While there was a bit of self-consciousness on my part at the beginning, despite the pride of wearing it for my Goddess, that's totally gone now, and I don't mind in the least who sees it. The powerful symbolism and the physical reminder of our D/s dynamics are all that remain.

While the eternity collar in black (Phantom Line) is a classic piece that blends in fairly well with casual clothing and goes unnoticed under more business/formal attire, it is more much difficult to miss when if I leave the neck of a shirt unbuttoned, or if I wear something with a lower neckline (T-shirt, anything with a crew neck).

In a funny anecdote, I was getting my haircut recently at a barber shop, and the lady cutting my hair needed to trim the hair on the back of my neck. She took hold of the eternity collar to move it out of the way, and said, "Oh my God! That thing weighs a ton!" She did ask where I got it. I simply replied that it was a gift from my beloved, and it was a symbol of the strength of our love and relationship...

Interestingly, nobody else has said anything else about the eternity collar.

There is so much about of the eternity collar that I love. I love it when my Goddess grabs a hold of the eternity collar to pull me in for a kiss, to tell me something dominant or dirty, or to simply remind me of who holds the reins. I love it when we make love, and the D-ring of the locked leather collar my Goddess put on me in the early evening dings loudly against the eternity collar. I love it when my Goddess catches a glimpse of the eternity collar, and she flashes one of her dominant "I own you, Bitch!" smiles. I love it when I'm apart from my Goddess for a short while, and I feel the eternity collar around my neck, and I bring a hand to it, and feel its strength and its size and its warmth. And I feel the texture of the hinge or the edges where the allen screw keeps it locked around my neck.

And most of all, I love it that my Goddess feels so strongly about our relationship, and the nature/dynamics of our relationship, that she wanted to have as imposing a piece as the eternity collar placed around my neck, in all that it is, and in all that it represents.

Image courtesy of www.meninpain.com via Miz Helena