16 January 2012

Moments of wonderfulness

Sitting on the floor, his back resting against the coolness of the sofa, he shivered when at first his naked back made contact with the brown leather.

His legs were stretched out before him, his head resting against my knee where my leg dangled over his shoulder from where I was sat behind him on sofa.  His right arm crooked around the leg, holding the book from which he was reading.

His left hand followed a trail of gentle touch up and down my calf, down over the bridge of my foot and back up again, the gentlest of touches but not enough to tickle, but certainly enough to bring on a deepest sense of relaxation.

I leaned back, closed my eyes, revelling in the attention his hands were giving to me, I could picture the path of his hand running up and down my leg, the focus of his eyes on the words on the page without even needing to look at him.

Relaxing back into the sofa, listening to the gentle warm tones of his voice as he read aloud from the book.  He was animated in his reading, and every so often his left hand would leave its trail on my leg to turn the page of the book, but returning just as quickly to the place where it had momentarily ceased.  He would use the changing of a page, or the end of a chapter to shift his body slightly, getting as close as he could to my legs that were dangled over him, making sure that his head rested gently against my knee.

A moment of beautiful intimacy.

A moment of gentle seduction, of simple interaction and warmth, yet one with such an underlying arousal of anticipation and desire.  Sometimes the simplest things create the most wonderful memories.

I reached down, stroking his hair, smiling at the depth of the sigh that escaped from his lips, feeling his arm grasping a little more tightly around my leg.

Sometimes, it is the simplest of things that fulfill ones submissive or dominant desires.  Sometimes it is the simplest of things which hold so much depth, so much feeling, so much beauty.

Such moments of wonderfulness.


intrigued me.

He still does.

It is quite rare, that someone touches the part of me that leads to a desire to dominate another.  Although naturally dominant, it doesn't automatically mean that I have a want or a desire within me to dominate everyone.  In reality, that desire is touched so infrequently, so rarely, that when it is touched, when it is aroused, it is quite exceptional.

It is even more unusual that someone not only touches that part of me, but also unleashes the sadistic need too, that makes me want to hurt them just as much as control them or feel for them.

But he affects that part of me, it is as if he reaches inside, caressing it, stimulating it, unleashing that innermost desire that lies within. And in turn, he unleashes the beast that paces back and forth waiting to be set free.

He arouses that part of my need, inspiring it, stirring it awake, something not many often do.  My inner self, reciprocates to the wonderful depths of his own submissiveness that to me, flows gently, willingly and unhindered out of his every pore.

He is open and honest, genuine and simple.  He is straightforward, emotionally open and rather sweet. And yet I know that there is so much more that lies within, that exists within the dark.

He makes me smile. He makes me laugh.

Talking freely about so many things, the weather, the day, and the darkest desires of the night.  He opens his mind and shares it with me.  His heart is opening in the same way, without extortion or coersion. He shares his words, his thoughts and his feelings. His weaknesses, his worries and his fears.  He shares his spirit with a gentle intelligence.

He blushes when I ask him things, yet not shying away from things for which he has been judged. His eyes slowly falling away; shyness, and humilation a powerful combination.  

He is like a pet.  He purrs like a cat, deep sighs of contentment as I touch his hair, his face, or deep inside. 

He simply smiles when I call him by the name I have given him, his eyes saying so much more than his lips are able to at times.

I've named him Moog.

10 January 2012

Never mind pain in the office

Never mind about "pain in the office" as I blogged the other day HERE  this is what would make the workplace a much happier place . . 

I am lucky enough to have had this wonderful pleasure while I have worked at home, but never in the main office.  Not quite sure what the guys I work with (and yes I work with all guys!) would think about it, but, I'm liking it. A lot!  

And as a side note, I love Namio a lot too . . .fabulous art!

But it would certainly make the daily grind of going into work much more interesting . . .would certainly make the day wonderful . . .in fact, I don't think I would want to go home.  And although it is wonderful being the boss . . .I don't think that I could quite get away with introducing this new work ethic to the office . . .

Shame tho!  

As commented on one of my previous entries . . . 

tom said...dreams a little :-D 

I totally agree . . 

Tempted by temptation

My temptation was tempted. 

And I was (if you recall) . . . Tempted that is.  

My temptation was tempted.

And yes. I did. Allow myself.

To yield to it. 

Slightly anyway.


09 January 2012

Holiday . . .

And now that the Christmas holiday period has passed and we are into another year, it starts to be the time to start thinking about this years holiday.

It is the one thing in the year that I always look forward to, deciding, planning, is always as good fun as going.  And I have already begun giving thoughts to this years main trip.

I would LOVE to return to NYC, the first trip mini man and I made there last year will certainly not be our last. The trip was amazing and we have often wished that we had given the 12 days after in Florida a miss and spent the whole time in New York ~ it really is such an amazing place.

Unfortunately, while amazing as it may be, it is also incredibly expensive and it then turns a trip into a very expensive trip, and as there are many things that need doing around the house, it seems that this year will not see a return visit to New York, much to my disappointment.

However, I have been looking closer to home and we are potentially thinking about doing a trip around Italy.  A place we haven't visited before, and a place where there's certainly several places that we'd like to visit.  So it is certainly an option.

I have also thought about returning to Turkey.

Now, I love Turkey, and have some very fond and wonderful memories of the trips already taken there.  But I wonder if returning to a place already visited a couple of times before is a good idea again.  Mind you, I keep saying I will return and having met one particularly interesting "local" on the last trip 2 years ago, he and I are still in touch, and he often asks if I will return.

It was a shame that we are separated by hundreds of miles, and separated by a considerable age. After all, I haven't or don't tend to be drawn to someone who is significantly younger than me, in fact quite the opposite. One of the reasons I believe that I felt more comfortable with the boy, and indeed in previous relationships was because they were considerably older and it just felt more "right".  Except for Ersin. 

On the last trip to Turkey, he took me to a most wonderful restaurant up in the Turkish mountains, the journey itself was quite hair raising, roads which seemed to fall away into nothing on the edge of the mountain road. but the setting was quite perfect, quite beautiful near Kayaköy. 

We had spent the early evening seated in these most wonderful seating areas dotted around the restaurant grounds, little alcoves filled with cushions and a low lying table in the middle, surrounded by trees and vines, the scent from the flowers and bushes around us growing in intensity as the sun went down.  The mountain location and being several hundred metres above sea level meant that the temperature was several degrees lower than the blistering sun down in the bay.

But shaded by the trees, in the warmth of the August sun, we had spent time relaxing, talking, eating meze's washed down with local raki.  We had whiled away the time, the sun going down, the moon coming out, and minutes passed quickly into hours. 

Leaning back on the cushions looking up through the vines looking at the stars, we had shared so many thoughts and things about each other.  And he had taken my feet into his hands and attended to them lovingly. Gently rubbing and massaging them as we continue to talk and share a rather wonderful moment.

It was even before we had eaten the most wonderful meal, which we cooked ourselves at the table on the little barbecue that they bring to us, the most wonderful evening.  The coolness of the evening breeze and blown gently around us as they lit the outside lights, candles and fires with obscure shadows falling all around us.

It was probably the best evening of the holiday, and probably the best moment that we had was that evening, we often talk about it now, several years on, usually when he asks when I am returning to Turkey.  He was so attentive, so gentle, so sweet. Naieve in many ways that I knew that some of the things that we had talked about had shocked him, but then he is so much younger, but he had hidden his shyness rather way.  Will I return?

I do not know.

Things could have been different. A different moment, a different time, more so perhaps a different country, but we can say that things could have maybe turned out so differently, but he lives in a place where I can see myself heading to when I am older, retiring to a life in the Turkish sun and mountains.

Who knows?

We never know what life may bring, there are many things in the past, even more recent past that could have been so different, that could have turned out so differently, but life is too short to regret what didn't happen, life is too short to think about the what if's, because it is so rare that the what if's could now become a reality. 

05 January 2012

Pain in the office. . . .

 I've only been back at work two days since the Christmas break which thankfully gives me all the time off from the day before Christmas Eve to when the schools return, which was for us, yesterday. 

But by god, it can be such a place of frustration.

One guy who every year comes out with his "vision" for the companies for the next year, who just has no concept of the financial situations and limitations which are going to be even harder this year than last.

One guy who just has an innate need to creep and brown-nose, and who seriously, gets right up mine! He never ceases not even when it doesn't get him anywhere.

There are bonuses of being the boss at work, for me I couldn't have it any other way, (it's a control thing lol) but at times it would be so much easier if we could kick some ass, whip them into shape, quite literally. Life would just be . . .so much easier!

But today, with frustration at an all time high, while I was sorting through the paperwork piled up on the desk from my Christmas Break all held together with clips, "the beast" was unleashed.

An increasing desire to hurt, to inflict the pain, to find the release that doing such brings . . .a shame it couldn't be that way in the work place.  Because I could seriously have put those clips to very good work today!!!

Excitement ~ the acts or the response?

"My experience with other "dominant" women is that, frequently, they only act dominant, and are excited not by the dominant acts themselves, but by the excitement given off by a submissive man in their life." The Lazy Domme's Guide.

A couple of weeks ago when I was browsing through various blogs and I came across the above writing which was made within a blog by Lazy Domme.  It was referring to the fact that in the writer's experience many dominant women often aren't excited by the dominant acts themselves but by the responses and the excitement that stems from the submissive man in their life.

The author goes on to write within the blog about how to change that and how to make it more exciting for women ~ it is a blog which certainly struck a chord with me for many reasons, one I enjoyed reading and one certainly worth checking out!  But the comment I've quoted above was one that kinda stuck with me.

It stood out.

It certainly got me thinking (and I love comments and words that do that!)

I think it stood out, because for me, it couldn't be further from the truth, the fact that I personally get so much from the dominant acts.  But also maybe it stuck because I cannot imagine anything worse than just having to do things "just because" and not getting any pleasure or enjoyment out of it. 

For me, I am totally excited by the dominant acts.

I am totally excited by the acts of sadism. 

Because if I wasn't excited by them, if I didn't enjoy them, I wouldn't be doing them.

Why would I want to do something that I didn't like or enjoy?

The quthor went on to comment that she felt that many dominant women are getting a raw end of a deal, by not getting pleasure out of the acts themselves. And yes, perhaps it is a raw deal.

Of course, there will always be people who are doing just that.  Just as there are those who "submit" just to please their more dominant partner.  Just like there are those in an FLR where the woman doesn't truly want to lead the relationship but are "guided" by the submissive.  There will be people who will get a raw deal. People who will do things just to please and not because it meets their wants or desires.

There are times when I will choose to do things because it is something that the submissive may like or enjoy, but I still get something from it, I must still like or enjoy what I am doing or going to do.  I believe that both peoples needs are important and need to be met, regardless of the dynamic, but, if I didn't want to do something, if I didn't like it. I wouldn't do it.  I wouldn't do something just because someone "expected" it or "demanded" it.

As a dominant female I do the things that I want to, that I enjoy, that I get something from or out of.

If I don't; I don't do it.  It is quite simple really.  No raw deal.

But, while I get excited by the act, of course I get excited and enjoy his feelings, his reactions, his own excitement. It really is a combination, not only of the dominant acts, or the submissve acts, but also about the end result. The feelings it creates for both, the things it brings in emotionally, physically or psychologically, both to the submissive and also to myself.

They go hand in hand, they are part and parcel of the same thing.  Together they are what I need and want.  The things I do and the feelings it creates.

I don't subscribe to the thought of it being all about the Domme. Neither is it all about the submissive. It isn't just about the act. It isn't just about the excitement or feelings.

It is about it all.

It is about the whole thing, from the dynamic and the relationship itself, to the acts, the feelings and the whole experience; for both!

I love the "acts", I love the things that I do, I love the feelings and the psychological changes it brings about.  And I love the way those things are all connected.  I get excited by the things that I do, even from the most simple of things. It doesn't have to be complicated or indepth, dominance and submission can be experienced in some quite beautiful and simple acts, but I get excited by the things I explore, the things that create excitement within the submissive, the feelings it creates within them and within me.

The excitement doesn't just come from what is given off from the submissive. It doesn't just come from feelings I experience. For me it is about it all, the relationship, the acts, the feelings and the end result.

For each.

For both.

Edited to add relevant links.

04 January 2012

Woman first of all . . .

“It’s all right for a woman to be, above all, human. I am a woman first of all” ~Anais Nin

Why is it, that some people  fail to see that before anything else, before being Dominant, before being anything I am a woman? That I am me?

Some days its as if I am not allowed to even be human, much less a woman.

It seems that some people fail to see past what we may be, to see the who we really are.  That they have some idea (or more so fantasy) about a female dominant and that it doesn't get past the leather, whips and strap on!

It is draining. It is tiresome. It seems never ending at times!

It is as if, in being dominant, I am not allowed to be, to have or to go through anything else that a woman of my age should.  That I shouldn't have natural longings or desires, that I shouldn't for some reason desire other things such as friendship, companionship, love.  It is as if because I am dominant I am not allowed to do or experience many things.

Some time ago, in a passing conversation, I mentioned that I was having a "broody" moment.  Now, you'd think that I'd just dropped a huge bomb! As the shock set in. "Broody moment . . . . . ?"  Followed by a long silence.


Am I, just because I am a dominant female, not allowed or supposed to experience a "broody moment"?

Does it mean that because I am dominant that it switches off the natural biological clock or the natural desires that come to many (and not all!) women.  Does it mean that because I am a dominant female that I suddenly lose all feelings, thoughts, experiences, desires that any other female may have?

It seems that some cannot get past the dominant part. Let alone to see the human, or even the woman or more importantly "me".

There really is no hope if they cannot get past the dominant fantasy that fills their mind, that limits their vision.  Yes I maybe dominant, but it isn't all that I am.  And shouldn't we be seen for all that we are, not for what some "fantasy" creates or suggests? 

Yes I am dominant.  I am many other things too.

But first and foremost I am me.


Oscar Wilde obviously had a thing about temptation!

not only for the above quote which featured in "The Picture of Dorian Gray" but in Lady Windermere's Fan with "I can resist anything except temptation".

And this leads me to wondering . . .if that is what you are . . .a temptation.

I wonder if that is what I should be doing . . .yielding to the temptation. Or should I be resisting it.  Or, do I actually want to resist.

Or, am I tempted just because . . .just because I am tempted.

I cannot explain right now whether this is a temptation I want to yield to. Whether it is something that should remain a temptation.

Or maybe I should heed the words of Steve Maraboli in Life, The Truth and being Free, where he writes “Temptation is the feeling we get when encountered by an opportunity to do what we innately know we shouldn't.”

And this is true.  because I know that I shouldn't be tempted. And yet for some reason which I cannot explain right now, I know that I am.

Tempted that is.

03 January 2012

Clean up your mess . . .

I hold you fully responsible for this mess I am in.

I blame your eyes and the look that lies within them.

I blame your hands. Your fingers.  The way it feels when you stroke your fingers up and down my arm.  I blame your body and the way it feels against my own, feeling its warmth, its strength, its desire.

I blame your cock and the way it pressed up against me all the time you were stood behind me on the bus ride home.

The way it felt through your denim jeans, the way it felt against my stockinged legs.

You created this mess I am in.

You have created the wetness. 

You created the situation. 

So, lick me clean.

02 January 2012

Kiss in a perfect memory

Do you remember that afternoon in the park?

It was unusually warm for the time of year, the leaves that were hanging onto the trees made the dappled sunlight create such wonderful patterns on the grass beneath the canopy.

I wanted to climb under your skin.  I wanted to peel it back, tear you open, bare your innerself before me, making you open and vulnerable.

I can never remember the grass being as green and lush as it had been on that September afternoon.  The summer heat had failed to drain it of its colour.

I don't think I've ever had a more tender kiss.  Your lips were full and soft, they were filled with so many sentiments, filled with desire, with affection, with love.

When I leant down to meet you with my own, every single one of those things passed from your lips to my own, without a single word being spoken, without a single noise being made. A gentle tender kiss, yet filled with so much more.  Our tongues exploring, playing, teasing each other.  I can close my eyes and feel your lips against my own, reflecting upon the wonderful moment of poignancy, of attentivness, but certainly one without worries or solicitude.

The years pass.

Memories are filtered a million times and more, but I can still describe that kiss, that moment, just as I did back then.

It was tender. It was perfect. 


Hurt him.

Hurt him.

I want to hurt him.

Seeing him standing in front of me makes me want to hurt him all the more.  I watched him from the window as he walked up the path, purposefully closing the gate behind him.

I saw him stop, draw breath as if he was summoning the courage to walk further, a mixture of nervous anticipation and excitement.

He wasn't aware that I was watching him, but I stood without movement in the window, watching his movements, his expressions and the look in his eyes.

He knocked twice on the door and stood back, I continued to watch him, I was in no rush to open the door to let him in, actually I was, because there was so much that I wanted to do to him, but I wanted to draw him in gently, to take my time, to allow the anticipation and his nerves to draw him into a place of shyness and vulnerability.

I wanted to witness the transition from the confident man who strode up to the gate to the man who in only a short few moments would be so far removed from that man it could almost be two different people.

I wanted that transition to be subtle.  To be gentle.  To be slow.

I wanted to watch the changes within him, the way his senses heighten, of how his skin jumps at even the slightest or most delicate of touches.

I wanted to witness his struggles.

The battle in his mind of his fears against his desires.

But oh I want to hurt him.

Kissing him deeply, my hands tangling into a tight fist within his hair.  Pulling his head back slowly, stealing his breath. Kissing his chin. Pulling his hair.  Kissing his mouth. Pulling his hair tightly.

Kissing him.  Biting him.  Hurting him.

I will hurt him.


01 January 2012

Not so happy new year . . .

I often wonder if people stop and think at times when they wish people a "Happy New Year".

For some of us, there are things being faced which means that it isn't going to be.  That there are things which are happening which mean that the year isn't starting "happily" and that there are things that will be faced which will be far from.

I am certainly glad that the first day of the year is almost over. It is already one I really want to forget. It is already one which has bought sadness and pain, heartbreak and a hope for different things.

A new year doesn't always mean a good one.

A new year doesn't always bring the best of news, the best of happiness.

Sometimes the old year moving into a new one doesn't mean anything different. That just because that clock strikes midnight, that we change from a 2011 to a 2012 does it mean that everything is miraculously going to be wonderful.

It isn't.

While I certainly hope that the new year brings peace, health, happiness to everyone I know. I know that there will be things in these coming days which will bring anything but.  Still, if the shit is happening here, at least it's hopefully leaving some poor other bugger alone.

Christmas isn't always the happy time that people talk or think of.  You hear people say "Don't say things like that, it's Christmas!", but, for some people it is an incredibly difficult, often painful time of year. For some it is a time of year that is hoped it passes quickly and silently.  Going from one year into the next is often the same.

So, just because it is a new year, it doesn't mean it is going to be a good one.  It hasn't started as a good one.

But that is life.

Not saying that a good year wouldn't be welcome.

I just know that there are things which will make this forthcoming one, incredibly difficult, and certainly not good or happy, I had hoped it wouldn't be so early as the first day of the year.

There will be things of course that will be good, that will be happy, things that will fill those voids with happiness . . .there is always the open door to whatever life may bring . . .time will tell.