The Goddess wants to play - Part 2 (E)

Courtesy of Who's Sorry Now? via Lunar Black - Desire for Submission and More...

Hmmm… Where was I in our delightful scene… More than time for me to finish what was started a while back.

Ah, yes… The hogtie. Arms behind my back, restrained by metal handcuffs. Ankles bound together by several loops of rope. Feet near my backside, legs bound there by a short length of rope anchored to the chain of the handcuffs. I feel the metal of the cuffs digging sharply into my wrists. The pressure of the rope around my ankles is also noticeable, but much more forgiving. I feel the tension of the bondage in my legs, my back, and my arms, and yet, my body and mind let go and relax. I give in to the hogtie, and surrender to my Goddess, who is towering over me, enjoying immensely my helplessness as she plays bondage artist.

The hogtie is one of my favorite bondage positions, despite not being all that comfortable. Somehow, the dichotomy of the tension of the position itself and the deeper state of subspace it carries me into, forcing me into surrender and letting go of all, work together in intensifying the emotions and reactions of the power exchange between us. One of those things that definitely, as Paltego from Femdom Resources would say, pushes my buttons.

Goddess Selena gives each one of the ties a little tug. She teases me that everything is nice and tight.

“You’re not going anywhere…” She says playfully, pulling on my hair, and then running her nails down my back.

Courtesy of The English Mansion

She leaves me for a minute. In the depths of subspace, I have flashbacks of other moments left alone hogtied. Our first apartment… hogtied and isolated in our bondage closet while she enjoyed a favorite TV show. Our last house, hogtied on the bed while she takes a shower and gets ready to go out.

I drift back from my reverie when I feel Goddess Selena’s weight next to me on the bed. A sharp edge comes across in a short curve near the top of my shoulder blade. Between the sharp etchings and the focused vibes I get from my Goddess, I make out through the veil of subspace that she is drawing expressions of ownership and love with Sharpie markers on my back. Markings are always swoon-inducing for days afterwards…

Goddess Selena leaves me again for a few instants, and returns with her iPhone. She takes a few pictures of the markings and teases me about them. She puts the phone down on the night table, and releases the tie between the handcuffs and the rope keeping my ankles bound. She rolls me over on my back and arms, and helps me move up into a 45-degree sitting position against the headboard, with a few pillows behind me.

I’m out of the hogtie, but with my wrists and ankles still bound, and the blindfold still on, I can tell she’s not quite done. I hear a what seems to be a plastic bag with some soft-sounding items in it drop next to me. I feel Goddess Selena pinch some skin underneath my penis, and then, some light pressure that doesn’t dissipate despite the fact that she is no longer touching me. Then I feel her pinch a spot on my scrotum, and she lets go of it, leaving once more a light pressure point that remains. She comes back to the penis, and places a third clothespin. And back to the scrotum, for a fourth clothespin. She continues, alternating between the two areas, finding new spots to place a mix of wooden and plastic clothespin, each one more sensitive than the last. I think I can tell the difference between the clothespins, as I vaguely remember the wooden ones being a little stronger but creating more of a dull pain, while the plastic ones are a little sharper, if not quite as strong. Each a source of pain in their own way.

The clothespin scene gets even a little more intense on its own, as I slowly get an erection. The skin of my penis and the upper part of my scrotum get more taunt, making the feeling of the clothespins ever-sharper. Several minutes later, including I don’t know, maybe 12 or 15 or 18 clothespins, Goddess Selena is slapping at some of them, and tugging at others. I arch my back as waves of warmth and pain are radiating from my groin area. Then a singular jolt of pain runs through my entire body as my Goddess removes one of the clothespins and the blood flows back to the skin that had been constricted. And then she removes another to the same effect. I strain against the bondage and I can feel her dominance envelop me as she sadistically proceeds to remove each of the clothespins and enjoys my reactions to her play.

After the last one, I fall back limp against the bed as after-waves of pain still resonate from my groin. For good measure, Goddess Selena grabs my penis and scrotum in her hands and pulls then in different directions, and her hands feel cold against the pain and the warmth of the blood still rushing back to the deprived spots.

She runs her nails along my thighs, and unexpectedly, gives me a deep, passionate, erotically dominant, I-fucking-own-you kiss on the lips. After a surprised pause, I desperately try to answer back with my lips but she is already gone.

Courtesy of Divine Bitches via Mistress Lilyana

Goddess Selena spends a little while caressing me, holding me, occasionally kissing me, and asking how I am. She eventually removes the blindfold. A little more caressing, and she releases me from the bondage that had kept me at her mercy. Once she is satisfied I am gradually gathering my wits while slowly climbing out of subspace, we kiss again, deeply, passionately.

She takes my hand and gently drags me to our screen enclosed back patio, after we got partially dressed. It’s nearly midnight, and a light breeze is giving the air just a hint of coolness. My Goddess is in the mood for an after-scene cigarette. After a few drags, she grabs the middle ring of my locked leather collar, pulls me down to her a bit, and she gives me a smoky kiss. More (big) buttons pushed. A few more times she repeated the gesture, giving our scene a still fetishy cool-down.

From Thou Shall Love Thy Mistress (no longer active)

We went back inside, and soon lay down for sleep. Just before we dozed off, she told me to lie at an angle to her. She then lies down at a nearly perpendicular angle to me, and from her sleeping-on-her-back position, she places one leg over the back of my thighs and the other over my lower back (I was on my belly). Then she pulls me tight under her knees. And we fell asleep with my Goddess dominantly making herself comfortable using me as a leg/knee rest for the night.

Courtesy of Fluffy Art

Subspace awakening (E)

Image courtesy of Girls Rule, Subs Drool via Femdom Resource

I wake up this morning in a delightful subspacey daze. I spent the night serving as sleeping furniture for Goddess Selena, after our first “together” day in a while. What is a “together” day for us? No work, no obligations, “Coffee & Clamps!” in the morning, time at home where Goddess Selena keeps me collared and leashed and often at her feet when I’ll not on domestic duties, a late lunch date followed by some whimsical shopping and a movie, generally me doing things for her, and in between talking and laughing about everything in the world.

My subspacey awakening is intensified by the erotically D/s sensations and symbolism of the heavy leather collar locked around my neck, and the prospect of another, if different, “together” day. In those few seconds or minutes it takes to transition into consciousness and alertness, my emotional make-up of the moment brings about a torrent of flashbacks to the last time Goddess Selena let the phoenix of her dominance rise and consume both of us.

Image courtesy of Musings of a Mistress via Mistress Lilyana

After locking leather wrist and ankle cuffs on me, Goddess Selena strapped a blindfold around my head and ordered me on all fours on the bed. She quickly followed up with a long and increasingly stern caning that, about halfway through, had me break into a very light sweat, the unmistakable sign that I had crossed from the real world into subspace. I plunged further into the depths of subspace as she continued with another 30, perhaps 40 strokes from the two canes she was switching between every few dozen strokes. Satisfied with where she had taken me, Goddess Selena admired the colors and patterns of the marks she had etched on me, and ran her hands over my back to feel my quick, shallow breathing, the warmth and humidity of my skin, and the deep quiet moans coming from inside me.

Enjoying what she saw and felt, Goddess Selena wasted no time making changes to my bondage, and before I fully noticed the transition, I was restrained spread-eagle on our bed. Still blindfolded, her verbal teasing and humiliation made me focus on her voice as if I was looking at the sun from deep in a mine shaft. My attention shifted from the song of her dominant siren voice to the intoxicating aroma I rapidly recognized when she placed the panties she had been wearing that day over my nose. I took deep breaths, indulging in the powerful and sweet smell of Goddess Selena’s essence. I drifted ever deeper into subspace as Goddess Selena’s voice, her smell, and the sensations she felt like subjecting me to overwhelmed me.

Source: cdn-nl1.imagefap.com 

Images from the rest of our intimate D/s play time flash randomly, without order or sequence. Her nails digging into my nipples. Her lips touching mine so that she can exhale the drag she took from her cigarette. Her nails dragging and catching along the shaft of my semi-erect penis and the soft skin of my scrotum. Her orders to open my mouth when she needs to ash her cigarette. The tip of her lit cigarette brushing against my nipples. Her sitting on my hips, torturing my nipples, and riding my arched body until she reached orgasm. My back curving up as I react to the various exquisite sensations of pains she creates. My wrists and ankles straining against the locked leather cuffs and straps keeping me bound to the bed. The day-old panties still mostly over my nose. The images go back-and-forth as my emotional memories try to keep up.

I am back into the now. Now this morning. Locked heavy leather collar. Leash. Coffee and nipple clamps. Holding an ashtray while at her feet. Lots of affection and kisses. Catching up on house duties. Preparing for the week ahead.

Moments of our lives that slow down time as the memories bubble back to the surface of conscious thought…

Pull, by razriel. From Deviant Art. Found on Geek Domme and Mistress Lilyana.

Power exchange and control: Leashed overnight (E)

Image courtesy of leplumeau via Anais and le Ninja diaries

After an unexpected day off from work that included our beloved "Coffee & Clamps!" morning ritual, a full day of leash play, painting my Goddess’ toe nails (a dark, sparkly purple), much foot kissing, lots of time spent at her feet (with or without holding an ashtray for her), and preparing her meals and getting her beverages and other assorted domestic duties, Goddess Selena decided that I should be kept locked to the leash overnight.

Image courtesy of Devotion, passion and sensuality via An Addiction to Submission

I had a small wave off subspace wash over me as she looked into my eyes with a sense of power and satisfaction. I always get that thrilling wave of subspace come over me whenever my Goddess expresses her dominance overtly, however big or small the gesture or the action. It may be a simple of a snap of her fingers and her pointing to her feet, indicating that she wants to smoke and I have to assume a position holding the ashtray while at her feet, or sending me out of the house for errands ignoring the fact that my locked leather collar is still on. In this particular instance, leaving my leash locked to my locked leather collar overnight, the power exchange elements were symbolically ownership and control, and the physical manifestations would be that she would know exactly where I was going to be overnight and in the morning until she woke up. I was not going to venture out of the house at any time, I was going to be relatively nearby at all times (this leash is a 50’ x 1/8” steel cable), and she was going to reel me in to her to tell me that she was up and ready for “Coffee & Clamps!” in the morning.

Image courtesy of Young Goddess (now closed) via Femdom Resource

As I drifted into sleep, laying on my front and positioned diagonally across the bed so that Goddess Selena could put up one leg over my legs and her other leg over my lower back, her favorite sleeping position and a very controlling one at that, I had mental flashbacks to two great articles or posts I had read recently. The first thing that popped into my head as I closed my eyes and the subspace subsided, was just a fragment: “…men are fetishists, and women are into power exchange.” This quote comes from a splendidly thoughtful article Why Do Men Crave Bondage? written by Dalton Ott. Of course, the quote I extracted does not do justice to the piece, and it is not even the central focus of the piece. But it definitely captured some essence of the moment, and indeed the whole preceding day.

On a side note, I am quite sure I will address and comment on Mr. Ott’s powerful article in a post in the future. In the meantime, if you take a look at it, be forewarned that the stunningly beautiful photographs of extreme bondage will not be to everyone’s taste, and may be too much for some.

The other thought fragments that popped into my mind as I relaxed into the helplessness of both the sleeping position and the limited range of movement I would have in the morning (and likely through most of the next day) were from a blog post by one of my favorite bloggers, Aarkey. In a recent post, Identity - Part 1 - Myers-Briggs, Aarkey commented that “I learned to find that powerless pretty hot too…” He later continued: “A set of established rules, rituals, protocols - it helps manage expectations, and for me, that makes life much clearer and easier.”

Image courtesy of Alles was ich liebe via  An Addiction to Submission

Now, as I write these words before returning to my domestic duties while Goddess Selena is still sleeping, I have that warm, subspacey feeling of my Goddess’ control as the leash is limiting my movement options, and making the presence of my locked leather collar even more evident than usual. I have visual and emotional flashbacks of those little gestures and actions mentioned previously (and for some reason, right now, of Goddess Selena grabbing my hair and pulling my head back to press her lips against mine and shotgunning smoke into my mouth and lungs). And I have the anticipation of another wonderful day of domination and submission, but also a day full of love and caring, and humor, and wit, and just generally sharing life with my soul mate.

Image courtesy of he stoops to worship via An Addiction to Submission

Playtime emotions and femdom imagery (E)

Image courtesy of Written in the Water via Thou Shall Love Thy Mistress

In the plethora of images in print and on the web related to BDSM in general, and female domination in particular, most are action-shots depicting an activity, a fetish, or perhaps a moment from a scene. While many are hot and enticing, most of them leave me somewhat unsatisfied. They feel not quite complete. In part, I think it's because they capture a certain physicality of what is depicted, but little else. Of course, I may be asking for too much from a single image.

However, occasionally, there are pictures that capture much more than a physical moment... they capture an emotional one. And that makes them rich and powerful, and they open the floodgates to remembrances of emotions lived before. The image that opens this post is one of them.

It brought back a flood of memories and emotions from some playtime my Goddess and I had a few weeks back, which I refer to in my last post, the product review on the Blue Spiral glass dildo. We had gone out a date where she looked absolutely stunning in a pin-stripe jacket over a nice white top, sexy dark grey tights, and her hot black high-heel boots. We had a wonderful dinner at a local Mexican restaurant, and when we returned home, it was clear she was feeling dominantly feisty.

Upon our return, after the daily placement and locking of my leather collar, my Goddess told me to fetch the leather wrist and ankle cuffs. She had them strapped and locked on my limbs in record time. Then she told me to pull out a leather blindfold, and to wait for her in bed, naked, on my stomach. My rapidly rising anticipation could barely keep up with the speed at which things were unfurling.

Once my Goddess walked into the bedroom, she quickly slipped and buckled the blindfold over my head, attached the wrist cuffs to the headboard of the bed and the ankle cuffs, about 30" apart, to the footboard of the bed. She sat on my lower back, reached under my chest, and began to torment my nipples with her fingers and her nails. Already sinking into subspace rapidly, I dropped even faster as I lay there bound and helpless, the pain from my Goddess teasing my nipples focused and amplified by the absence of distraction without sight. Her weight pressing down on me added even further to limiting my movements and my sense of helplessness.

Abruptly, she got off me, and walked away from the bed. The echoes of the sensations of the NT and her sitting on me,the feeling of her head and hair over my shoulder, eased the transition to the stark isolation of being alone and bound in the bedroom somewhat suddenly.

But it wasn't long before my Goddess returned. As I felt her to the side of the bed, a cold sensation came up my spine, over my shoulder, up my neck, and to my lips. Deep into subspace, I couldn't focus on what it was that she was teasing me with until she gently forced it beyond my lips and barely into my mouth. I then recognized the shape of the glass dildo that had been on her bedside table for many weeks, waiting to be used when the time and the mood was just right.

She pulled it out of my mouth, circling my lips again with it. I felt my Goddess standing next to me for a short while before she sat on the bed. A few seconds later, her fingers gently began lubricating a path for the Blue Spiral glass dildo down below. It wasn't long before I felt the pressure of the dildo against my anal opening, and I tried to relax best I could. Through little turning and in-and-out movements, my Goddess teasingly and skillfully worked the dildo inside me. In brief moments of focus as I kept feeling waves of subspace and deep intimacy wash over me, I could feel and hear her playful enjoyment to my reactions, to my movements, to my sounds.

Surprisingly quickly, the glass dildo was all the way in, and then she delighted in pulling it out a bit and pushing it back in to the hilt, and turning it inside me with the small knob/handle that is one of the characteristics of the Blue Spiral. Her movements took more amplitude and my reactions grew greater, and the latter grew even more as my Goddess' enthusiasm inspired her into more forceful movements.

She diminished of the intensity of the anal play over a few minutes, and then she stopped all together. Once more, rather abruptly, she got off the bed, told me not to lose the dildo, and walked away from me. I suddenly got worried through the fog of subspace that the glass dildo would slip out, but to my great surprise, it did not. In retrospect, the head of the dildo being quite a bit larger than the shaft, the dildo stayed in without any effort on my part.

I was taken out of subspace reverie by the smoke blown into my face by my Goddess. I had not heard her come back. Either she lit her cigarette in the next room, or I was so out of it that I didn't hear the lighter. Either way, she placed the cold metal ashtray on my back, sat on the bed next to my bound body, and enjoyed her cigarette, running her nails along my back, and occasionally, blowing more smoke in my direction. Every few drags, she would grab my hair, pull my head back and to the side, and exhale inside my mouth. When she does so, I know she expects me to take in all of her smoke, and I did my best not to let any escape until it was my turn to exhale. Twice during her smoke break, she brought the cigarette to my lips, forcing me to take a drag.

Barely a few seconds after my Goddess put out her cigarette in the ashtray on my back, I feel a sharp, hot impact on my lower back. It was the unmistakable impact of wax, heavy, hot, almost reverberating. By the smell, I could tell exactly which of the candles she was using too. This was one of those fragrant candles that we used to make the entire house smell nice. I think it was the cucumber-melon one. This would explain the intense heat of the drops that she was pouring across my back. The fragrance candles tend to have a higher oil content, and unless dropped from way high, they hit the skin much hotter. My Goddess regaled herself with the range of reactions I had to the drops, from deep moans in less sensitive areas like the back of my shoulders, to sharp inhales and exhales in more sensitive areas in fleshier parts like behind the kidneys.

One drop came down after another, sometimes in quick succession, sometimes with a few seconds in between. Sometimes she dropped them in a linear pattern, sometimes she dropped them in a seemingly random way. In between and during, my Goddess kept returning to teasing me and tormenting me with thrusts and turns of the dildo. If I would not have been so deeply lost in subspace, it might have all been overwhelming.

At one point, it all came to a gentle end. The hot wax stopped dripping. The glass dildo was gently removed. My Goddess ran her hands over my back, making something of a mess from the very soft wax. Oil-based scented candles tend to leave very soft, if not quite liquid, wax residue (easier but messier to remove.) And then, she tenderly caressed my hair and came in close to give me a long hug as part of the usual aftercare.

It is this very time that came back to me when I saw the picture opening this post. It spoke to me of a very special moment, full of intimacy and satisfaction. It felt like recovery from intense emotions and sensations. Of course, it has none of the toys or gear, or mess, from our playtime. But the look on the woman's face is just what I would have expected to see on my Goddess' face if I could have looked at her. And his body posture is just what I imagine mine would look like slowly coming out of subspace.

My mind wandering to that evening, I was reminded vividly of the intimacy of anal play with my Goddess. Of the energy she emanates when she expresses her dominance is such a physical way. Of how magical it is to feel her enjoyment during our playtime.

Image courtesy of Hello High Heels via Thou Shall Love Thy Mistress

The secret is... enthusiasm (E)

A Little Light Bondage by Sorceress2000, via Lunar Black

Enthusiasm expresses wants and needs, and wants and needs impose will. Enthusiasm is the collection of many little daily gestures and words that expresses my Goddess' dominance, and her enjoyment of our D/s relational dynamics. And the fun she has playing with her toy... me.

Enthusiasm is my Goddess...

...giving me a harsh look and barking "Where's your collar, Bitch!" if I take any undue time to offer her the locking collar upon my arrival home each day. It happens very seldom... but when it does...

...pointing at her feet, where she wants me to sit, when she is ready to smoke and wants me to hold the ashtray for her;

...telling me what she wants or what she needs, and it is absolutely clear in the tone of her voice, that she is expecting, without a shadow of a doubt, that I will do it for her or get it for her;

...taking hold of my hair or my collar, pulling me in close to her, exhaling her cigarette smoke in my mouth;

...suddenly grabbing me by the hair while I'm sitting at her feet on the floor, and walking me over to the other end of the living room, leaving me on all fours, and serving up 24 strokes with the paddle, followed by 24 strokes with the cane;

...deciding that I will serve as furniture, and putting her legs up on my shoulders when I am at her feet on the floor, or telling me I must sleep at a 90 degree angle to her so that she can lay her legs up over my torso to sleep more comfortably, or ordering me to sit behind her so she can recline against me while we watch TV;

...bursting out "I really want to hurt you!" during lovemaking, and she brings me to a thunderous orgasm as I simultaneously whimper from the nipple torture;

...finalizing plans to bring me out to have a tattoo identifying me as her property;

...telling me "You're getting tied up tonight!" and after binding my wrists to the headboard of the bed, leaving me bound until the time the morning alarm goes off;

...sitting on my stomach while I am bound, and marking my chest with dominantly possessive drawings and notes with different colored Sharpies, which will remain visible for 3-5 days.

Enthusiasm is... the secret to the magic of D/s. At least for us it is.

Iconic picture of Prodomme Mistress Juliet Taylor (who seems to have retired), found on Women with Whips

In captivity... highlights of game night (E)

"Male Slave Bound Helpless" by Andrey Samacerv via Femdom Artists

Putting down images and emotions that she etched in my mind before the fog of subspace and the passage of time blur the specific details...

Captured... collared... wrists bound and ankles bound... blinfolded on and off... I couldn't keep up with her challenges... I couldn't bring down the number of strokes... the penguins just wouldn't stay on the iceberg... 7 strokes here... 19 strokes there... I lost track of the other numbers... she demanded I be on all-fours... sat on my back... sometimes the paddle... sometimes the cane...

My Goddess ordered me to lay down on my back on the sofa.... I struggled to get on... my breathing became more laborious as time passed while she sat on my mid-section for the duration... I was just another layer of the sofa under her... she lit a cigarette... put the ashtray on my chest... teased me with her smoke... teased my nipples with the burning tip... ordered me to open my mouth... tasted her ashes... I was her furniture and ashtray for the time it took her to smoke...

She walked away from the sofa for a minute... came back and began her to draw messages and symbols of her love for me, her dominance over me... from the top of my chest to my privates... I would remain marked and identified as her property for days to come...

The aftercare was tender... warm... close... so incredibly close to her... belonged to her... she cherished her possession, her property, her pet, her toy... so incredibly close...

Artwork courtesy of Shohei Yamashiro from Slug on Leather via Lunar Black

Haunting smoking fetish moments & flashbacks (E)

Image from Smoking Femme Fatale

I'm sitting on the floor, holding the ashtray for my Goddess. I lit her cigarette and gave it to her. I'll be holding the ashtray for her until she's done. She's looking down on her pet with affection, but also with a sense of control... power... ownership... For all the mystique of a beautiful woman who makes smoking sexy, who makes you weak in the knees while she does it, there nothing quite like being in a position to look up at her while she is doing it...

* * * * *

My Goddess reaches over and pulls me in close to her by the chain she keeps locked around my neck at all times. She reaches up to me, like she's going to kiss me. She locks lips with me. She makes sure our lips are tightly sealed. She exhales the smoke of her cigarette. I can feel her dominance rise like the phoenix over the horizon. She's in a mood. I will be subject to much more later on.

* * * * *

The nipple rings were really, REALLY hurting. I'm pretty good with NT, including a variety of nipple clamps, pins, and clips, but these pressure rings were really tight. I didn't know if I could go 10 minutes with them. My Goddess got 15 out of me. Then she knew by my reactions they had to come off. She asked me if I wanted them off. Unusual for me, I said yes. At that point, she said she would take them off... after her next cigarette. The mix of the subspace, the pain, the control, and her smoking was totally overwhelming. And I wasn't sure anymore I wanted her to finish quickly...

* * * * *

I'm in bondage on the bed, immobile. Feet cuffed and locked into a stretcher at the foot of the bed. Wrists and cuffed and locked and tied to headboard of the bed. Sight taken away by a blindfold. Other senses heightened by the bondage and the loss of seeing what is going on. My Goddess sits next to me, and blows smoke in my face. It is but the first part of what may come. Forced inhales? Heat play? Nipple torture? Forced smoking? Often it is all of them.

* * * * *

My Goddess returns to check in on me. I've been hanging in the closet during the time she was in the shower. Blindfolded, on my knees, with my wrists cuffed and locked to the high rack above my head. After even just a few minutes in isolated bondage, I can feel the warmth of her body and the aura of her dominance as she opens the door. She runs her nails over my skin, pulls on my hair, lifts my chin up to give me a kiss. She lights a cigarette. Teases me with it. Again, I don't know quite what she'll be in the mood for... could be forced inhales... heat play... nipple torture... forced smoking... it all depends on how much time she has before she leaves for work

* * * * *

We spend the evening over a board game... in the only way my Goddess will allow it... with me in bondage. She loves to see me naked for hours with my wrists bound together, and with my ankles bound together. She loves to see me struggling to throw a dice, place a tile, or pick-up a card. She loves to watch me while I hobble along slowly to get her a drink or get her a snack during the time of the game. She especially loves to watch me fumble to reach for the cigarettes, and light them when she says it's time. Later on, the game ends, she stands, and I move to all fours to prepare to stand up. She stops me. I sit back on my ankles. She stands over me. She pulls on my hair, snapping my head back. She's still holding her cigarette, and the ash is lenghtening. Will she or won't she...

Image courtesy of Code 831

A little time of our own - part 2 (E)

Artwork courtesy of Cruella via Dishevelled Domina

If you haven't read part one, go do it now... this is the continuation of the same evening...

Bound, senses taken away, lost in subspace, I can feel my Goddess' dominance radiating and reaching me in an almost tangible way. I can hear the syren song of her power in every word she says... every gesture she makes... every action she takes...

She leaves me alone bound and immobile for a minute, and returns shortly. She begins to tease my nipples, moves down for some CBT, and comes back to the nipples more forcefully. I actually don't hear her light her cigarette, but it was clear that she had when I felt her first exhale is directed to my face. Subspace just keeps getting deeper. Her next drag comes right to my mouth as she grabs the central D-ring of my collar to make sure I don't move as her mouth covers mine. Some smoking play follows... forced inhales... forced smoking... punctuated by my Goddess doing some cigarette torture, tormenting my nipples with the tip of her lit cigarette. I try to stay still for her, despite the occasional searing heat approaching one nipple, and then the other, between breathing in her exhales, and some forced smoking. As she hits on so many smoking fetish buttons, I have vivid flashbacks running through my mind of imagery of her smoking, exhaling, and handling a cigarette at other times, when I could see her.

Winding down somewhat, my Goddess does not want to close out such powerful time together without leaving us both with something to remember... markings.

We both love markings, each for our own reasons. Playful and full of symbolism, even the temporary nature of the playful markings my Goddess will apply on me can make for some powerful emotions during play. They reinforce the dynamics of our everyday life. And they are vivid reminders for days after.

This time, it is a chain of roses around my right upper arm. A heart on the right side of my chest. And an "S" for Selena on my... member. As she applies it, she reminds me that it belonged to her anyways. And that I belonged to her.

Yes it does, my Love... and yes I do...