He knows

There are times she takes him apart, not with violence but with a look, she stares through his skin, through his bones and sees everything he may seek to deny or hide. 

When he is defeated, she will be there to pick up the pieces, the beast that moments before tore at his skin, gently caresses and holds. She holds his heart and life in her hands, she sees him as him. 

All of him.

She sees his flaws, his failings, his pain. She sees him fall apart and yet holds him together, she sees him at his best even when he feels at his worst, when he wishes he could be more, yet he is so much more than he may see.  

But she sees.

She knows. 

He is hers. 

Forever. Hers. 

And that he knows.

Let's

Let's get lost

in passionate kisses

and forget the

world amongst

lips and bodies.

Let's get lost

in burning lust

with bites and marks

strokes and smacks

caresses and slaps.

Let's get lost

in passionate desire

and drown out

the world

in fervour and fire

with paddle

and flogger

with clamps

and tawse,

with passion

and pain

let me be the cause

of marks upon

your skin

Let's get lost

Let's begin.

Passing the keys . . .

Chastity, something that I've always been drawn to. 

I've blogged about it quite often, including THIS entry where I wrote about what's in it for the lady. 

That blog post talks at length about what it is I love, what I get out of keeping someone locked and denied, and let's face it, I get a WHOLE lot out of it.  And yet, right now, I'm getting other things from it that are quite new, quite different.

It is something that has played a part in the past in varying degrees.  But there have always been similar aspects of it that have run through the "act", familiar thoughts, familiar feelings.  I know how it feeds my "beast", I know how it feeds my desire and need for control.  And really, there hasn't really been anything that has felt quite different for me. 

Until now. 

There are a whole host of things which are contrasting for and with me right now.  And this is different too.  I had lots of time to reflect on this as I drove home today, thoughts going to what is different, why it feels different.

And I LOVE the fact that it is.

I LOVE the fact that there are things that are new and fresh and it's like seeing things which I've always enjoyed, always loved or felt drawn to through different eyes, with different thoughts and feelings.

And yes, the feelings are important - chastity, is still very much, as indeed everything is for me, emotionally driven. 

I have no desire to deny someone if it is emotionally lacking. 

It is this with everything, without that emotion, without those feelings, everything is just empty, I don't want empty, I want those feelings that emotionally drive.  I want things filled with a depth of feeling, that overwhelming sense of emotion that drives so much of the things that we may do. 

The things that I do. 

And while it may be quite soon, today, I have the keys . . . and sometimes . . .just sometimes for however much I may think, or reflect or write, sometimes the right words, just cannot be found. 

But, regardless of how soon, regardless of how early, there is still emotions driving right now.  I haven't quite processed all of the thoughts and feelings that I may have about it all right now . . .but there are emotions driving.

And, they, the keys . . . are here with me.  :-D

While he is locked up (first pic) I have the keys on a necklace around my neck (second pic).

It isn't a small thing.

Someone choosing to give up this part of them to ultimately be controlled by another.  I am not indifferent to just how hard it is to be denied, to give that up.  I am quite aware that it's not an easy thing but I am quite aware of how it also makes me feel.

It's a big step. 

Both for him as he gives that up and indeed for me in terms of having control of that.  It's a big step, but a rather delicious and wonderful one and while I haven't quite processed the new feelings I have, he may have the device to remind him, something serving as a physical reminder if we are not together (along with the lack of physical release of course), but I have something physical to remind me too. 

And that . . .that is rather quite fabulous!


*originally written Thursday March 23rd*

Thoughts....

Salacious thoughts of

hungry lips

between wrinkled sheets.

Of nibbles and bites.

Desires

and wishing, a fervent

longing.

Do you have any idea
how often I think
about you,

of you?
Licentious longings

of touch, of taste,

of intimate gentleness,

of pain.

And if you knew

of the desirous thoughts

I have, a distance you

might keep.

But would that distance

take you further

away

or would it bring

you closer?

There was something about that moment.

There was something about that moment when, as I sat on the bed and you went to your knees before me, no pushing, no asking, just naturally kneeling there before me.

The was something about that moment as I looked you straight in the eye, as you lowered your gaze and gently whispered "I want to be yours".


There was something about that moment I gripped your hair in a tightening fist and bought your mouth to meet my own, kissing you, tasting you, biting your lip as I felt it swell with each bite, with each kiss, with every moment I devoured your mouth.

There was something about that moment - that moment as I removed the belt from your trousers.  as my mind and body flooded with a multitude of feelings that I wanted to hurt you.  That moment when you knew what my mind was thinking. When you knew what I wanted and yet it was far from what you wanted and yet, it was that moment that you offered yourself to me. 

There was something about that moment when you looked at me and your words screamed "I trust you" that moment when your words so simple made a statement so big it not only took my breath away, it filled my heart with a sense of warmth and sent a longing soaring through my body straight to the depths of me.

There was something about that moment.  

It's where it has all truly begun.

Burst into flame.

"In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out.  It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being.  We should all be thankful for those peple who rekindle the inner spirit" Albert Schweitzer

I am. 

Thankful.

I am also excited.

The flame has been lit, but not only has it been lit, it is burning brightly, strongly.  Quite unxpectedly. 

I am thankful for the person who has rekindled MY inner spirit.

For not only has that spirit been rekindled but what was a few months ago a simple connection, a beginnings of a new friendship has been rekindled too.

I am thankful to feel all that it brings to me.

I hear his voice, his words.  

I see his submissive need, his vulnerability and it draws me in, it fans the flames.  I see his longing and I find myself drawn to wanting to hurt him.  Not just physically, but in a way that I need - emotionally.

I find myself wanting to reach in to his heart, twisting it, turning it and then soothing away the hurt that my beast, my need has caused him.  It has been a very very long time that someone has quite touched my beast in this way, has touched me in this way.

He has rekindled the inner spirit.  He has awoken my beast. 

The flames are burning.  How they wil burn time will tell.  How big the flames will grow we cannot tell the future.  But, my inner spirit has been rekindled, it is burning, brightly.

And I am feeling so many things right now.

And for that, I am thankful!

Awoken

I've been too busy.  Too busy to get the words down, the thoughts out from the mind onto the page.

I'd like to say it's been from lots of wonderful things; that I've been distracted by a sweet vulnerable submissive boy, that I've been teasing and torturing him, loving and hurting him.

But alas, however nice the thought, that would be a lie.

How I wish that it were not.

Distracted yes.

I have been.  Not in the way I want to be or wish I'd been.  Although I have been lucky enough to communicate with some very wonderful new people of late which brought the year to a lovely end, and indeed has been a great way to start the new.

But, it has, in turn served only to remind me of things that are lacking, things that I need, but it has in a way, made me think, made me realise that I have to take steps to stop things being lacking. 

It's not a new years resolution. But yes.  It is. Time.

Unfortunately, the distraction in life has simply been because of life.  The working kind.  The kind that sees you toil through 80+ hour weeks, working at home, in the office, through the night.  A laptop by the bed communicating with people on a different continent when things need to be agreed and closed.  A notepad filled with nothing but meeting notes and lists of things to do.  Lists of lists of things that I needed to do. 

Not lists of things I'd love to be doing, that at times, I ache to be doing.  But lists of things that I have to do.


I miss having the time to write.  I miss having the inclination, the motivation, but more so the inspiration. 

The inspiration to the words, to feelings, to emotions, to life.  

The inspiration that feeds me, fulfils me, balances me.

We enter a new year. 

Many things the same as last apart from the two digits at the end of the date.  And yet, many things are different. 

The want, the desire for that inspiration in a way that hasn't been there for quite a long time.

I feel the beast prowling. 

The emotional sadistic beast. 

He prowls. 

He has awoken.

He is alive.

She loved . . .

She loved to tease him. Tasting him with her tongue.  She loved to leave a trail of saliva over his body, relishing in the shivers and goosebumps that were created as the cool air hit the heat of his skin.

She loved these moments of closeness and intimacy, ones that followed their wild and passionate times that they had shared only moments before.  She loved to kiss him gently. To kiss him where she had teased him, tormented him, beaten him. Hurt him.

She would stroke him tenderly,  as her lips gently kissed him, hands and lips gently soothing away the pain that had engulfed his body and marked his skin.  She loved to lavish his body with kisses, thanking his body with each kiss for the pain he had suffered for her.  She loved to kiss and wipe away his tears and his hurt.  Hurt and tears that she had brought to him, which fell for her.

She loved to touch him. Stroke him. Hold him. Taking in his taste and his scent, both of which were always embedded in her mind, in her heart, in her soul.  She loved to hear him sigh, to hear his breathing change as he regained some sense of normality.  She loved to hear the release from his body, releasing the tensions as it processes and sets free the pain and the torment that had permeated through to his depths.  She loved to watch him in that space, that moment. That depth. That darkness.  She loved to watch him. She loved him.

Fuck you!

"Fuck you!" he recoiled inside at these words daring to escape from his lips.

Her hand pulled back and struck him hard across he face, leaving him stunned and shocked and his mind fighting the depths of the space that her slap could send him to. 

She looked at him, coldly. His eyes had darkened from fear.  He knew he had gone too far. He had pushed her too far.  She had been teasing him, tormenting him, urging him, but his reaction from frustration had stepped over a line which her slap had immediately taken him back beyond.

Her fingers wrapped themselves around his throat, tightening, his life in her hands as she brought him up to her, bringing him up to his knees.  Her beast saw the darkness that enshrouded his normal clear blue eyes and she relished the fear he was feeling. She delighted and revelled in his predicament, the fear that he felt, the feeling that his heart was being crushed under the weight of those two words.  She knew she had pushed him, but still! 

"No! Fuck you!" She whispered into his ear letting out a somewhat evil chuckle which she knew made his fear grow even more. She wasn't angry at him, but she would make him pay for his words.

"I forgot myself." He began to plead.

She intended to make him remember.

Remember his place. Remember the line that he had crossed.

He wouldn't forget again. 

She shoved him to the ground, pushing his forehead to the floor which made him raise his ass into the air. Slapping the inside of his thighs to force them apart. The sting on her soft skin of her palms knowing that it was stinging him. He flinched each time she slapped him, the pain beginning to increase, his skin reddening from a pattern if red lines from her outstretched fingers.

He felt the burn, her unending slaps against the soft flesh of his inner thighs, fingers occasionally catching his cock making him gasp and flinch even more. He daren't cry out, fearing that it would unleash the beast.  That it would make her want to hurt him even more.

He feels nails and fingers clawing at his naked ass, assaulting him, scratching him. Burning. Stinging. Hurting. 

His fingers grabbing the carpet his head burying trying to find relief in the softness of the pile. His ass still raised an easy target for her ongoing assault of his body. He was not going to forget crossing that line. She would make sure of that!

Her fingers moving over the curves of his ass, probing between the cheeks as she feels his muscles begin to tighten, his attempt at preventing an intrusion into his body. She slapped him again telling him to relax the muscles and just as he did so two fingers forced their way into the depths of him. He gasped, he cried out, his pleadings awakening her beast as she pushed further into him. 

His hands dug into the carpet, his breathing fast and shallow as his body reacted to this intrusion. 

"Fuck you?" She said

"No! Fuck you!"

As her fingers pushed in and out of him. Fingers assaulting him, clawing, fucking him. Pain starting to arouse him, as she took what was hers to take. Pounding him with her fingers, deeper and harder, the beast willing her on along with his gasps, moans and pleading. His words of sorry were not enough. And she deftly increased the fingers that entered him, and as she filled him, her whole hand forced into him, she left him with no doubt that he had pushed her too far.

She fisted him, deeply. No care for his begging, not hearing his pleading, not hearing the "sorry" that gasped from his lips. And so she fucked him.

This wasn't about him. This was about her. This was about his place. Him knowing that place but more so not forgetting that place that he done so momentarily before. 

His cock was hard, pre-cum dripped from it, and she knew despite the pain, despite the intrusion in his body that he was close to orgasm. She stopped, her fist still inside him as she felt his muscles clamp against her. "You don't deserve that. You're not going to cum".

She removed herself slowly from his depths. Wiping her hand over him.  Shoving him aside as she turned and left him there to go shower.  She knew that he would come crawling to her, begging for her forgiveness.  She knew that he would thank her for reminding him of his place. Knew that he wouldn't forget it.

"Fuck you?" she whispered into his ear. 

"No.  Fuck you!"

I think of you

I think of you and wonder how you moan during sex.

I think of you and wonder how much you will cry out as you take my pain.

I think of you and wonder how you sound when you whimper and beg. 

I think of you and wonder how your eyes will look with a tear gently falling from the corner as you look at me and plead.

I think of you and how your face will light up with a smile.

I think of you and wonder how you taste.

I think of you and wonder.

I think of you and want.

I think of you and need.

I think of you.

*Beautiful*

*sigh*

One of those times that words are not needed.  For the picture says it all.  

The fear, the unknown, the mindfuck. The trust.


  *Fuckshivers* 

*THIS* gets my beast growling!

Craved

A desire burns, a body trembles with a deep need as yet unsated.  A simple touch creates a hunger that isn't satisfied.  I want to place my hands on you, tearing at your skin with my nails, I want to feel your body against my own, dampness of burning skin sliding against the other as I feel your strength from your body as I pull you closer.

The beast unleashed, let free from its cage, as you beg and plead to be taken, to be broken, to bleed, to cry.  And the pleadings only serve to increase the need to hurt you more, to enshroud us in a depraved darkness as it covers us and we are swept away in the licentious moment in time, becoming one in the erratic beat of passion and desire that sounds out within the room.  

Irregular and ragged breath that you take, a beating heart pounding to its own cadence.  Body so tight that it cannot take in its breath, lungs screaming for air and life.  Eyes wide and glazed with a fire burning deep within.  Butterflies fluttering, juices dampening soft and silky thighs.  The darkness unleashes a beast, a primal woman, that sees the need burning deep within you.

Hair gripped in hand, shoving you to the ground, raising your face with one hand as the other snaps against your cheek, head spinning, falling deeper into a place where nothing exists but that moment, and you and I.  Dragging you across the floor, skin scraping on the bare floor, a cacophony of moans and groans escaping your engorged lips.  Thrown to the floor, being held with my heel from my shoe, I reach for the belt that is hung over the door.  The smell of leather permeates the air, wafted under your nose to excite you further.

The sounds of your scream echo in the silence, as your body shakes uncontrollably, the sense of power courses from the leather up through my arm, crashing down through my body in a never ending spiral. There is urgency, heat and passion, harshness and cruelty, as the leather beats at your skin, as your screams tear me apart, ripping me open, baring the beast that has been caged inside for so long.

Sensations take hold, your choking from my foot against your neck, the harshness of the leather against your reddened skin.  As I reach down to take you in my arms, my palms coming down against the soft flesh of the cheeks of your ass, exploring, probing, until they find where they want to go.  Your body shaking and yet soaring with the stimulation of my fingers and my breath against your neck as I whisper into your ear.  The screams that escape your mouth as I push in deeper, the screams that continue to excite the beast, primal cravings as I take you in my hand, deep gutteral utterances escaping your lips, as you are taken. 

Used. Ripped. Assaulted. Broken.

And yet, it was embraced, welcomed, needed.

Craved.

Beast

I don't  want to touch you with gentle hands

Or talk to your with a soft gentle voice.

I don't want to look at you with softness or love.

I want you to see my darkness. To pull you into

the dark and depraved. I want you to feel the desires

that engulf me, overwhelm me, that fills my veins.

The ones that exist in the darkest corners of my psyche.

I want to strip you bare. Taking down the walls that keep you safe.

I want you to feel what I do; as I do. Battling against a

darkness and desire that takes you down to the lowest of places.

I want to rape your body, to rape your mind.

To hurt your heart with cruel words that squeeze it

with their harshness. I want my hands to tear at your your body,

raking nails over the softness of your naked flesh.

Taking you, hurting you, marking you right through to

the depths of you, through to your soul.

I want you to feel the beast that lives inside of me, to see it,

feel it, crave it. Love it. To open the door of its cage,

to set it free, so that it can be unleashed upon you.

You opening the door to be a willing victim. A victim,

to be taken, broken. And yet still beg for more.

Awaken

What is it that entices me? That draws me in? That pulls me in like metal to a magnet? The look of his eyes, the way that he smiles? The intoxicating heady aroma that fills my nose when I breathe in deeply.  There's a pull, a draw, an allure that captivates me.

It awakens the beast. He awakens the beast,  awakens the darker need in me.  I long to see his beautiful face stained with tears. I long to see the smile upon his face disappear with the gasps, cries and screams. I long to feed my fingers through his hair pulling him closer, the force pulling his hair and his scalp towards me.  The beast taking its skin, mauling his flesh, leaving red nail marks as they claw at his nakedness.  The desire for him to be on his knees, face pressed tight to my cunt as his tongue ravishes, devouring my aching flesh, releasing the built up passion from my body to his mouth.

I can feel his devotion, his love, his passion as my body tightens with the need.

He entices me. Draws me in.

Awakens me.

Silenced

A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.

Ingrid Bergman

I silence your words with my mouth. 

Kissing you deeply, biting your lips until I can feel your body begin to recoil with the pain. The sharp intake of breath willing me to kiss you harder, urging me to hurt you more, pushing me on, pushing you deeper.

The back of my hand impulsively comes across your face, knocking you back and I watch as the depths of your brown eyes began to glaze over, as you fall deeper and deeper in the dark space that you go to, where nothing else takes you.

I love to watch you as you process the sting from my hand, the pain across your cheek, your lips still stinging from the lingering kiss.  The confusion on your face of the lascivious combination of pain immersed under waves of pleasure, drowning in its depths.  My hands weaving through your hair, as I pull your head back exposing your neck, as I lean in to kiss you. Bite you. Each time you gasp it urges me to only to do it more, to do it harder.  It unleashes the beast inside as I want to hurt you more, to hear you gasp, to moan, to cry.

You attempt to touch me, to bring me closer, I know that you long to feel me closer, to bring me nearer and as I feel your arms pulling at their restraints I move back simply to frustrate you, reminding you that I am where I am, doing what I am, because I want to, for what I need. Not because you want me to be, or not for what you need.  A moan of frustration leaves your mouth at the same time that the back of my hand once more makes contact with your reddened cheek.

The impact of my hand across your face echoes around the silent room, your face reddening from the mark of my hand, the sensations of warmth and stinging coursing through my own body as you recover from the unsuspecting slap.  Your breathing deepens, your eyes darkening, greying like a sky when the moon eclipses the sun.  Your eyes glaze further still, shining like burnished metal, your body begins to sag and strain against the ropes around your wrists as you feel yourself descending into the pain and yet, the resistance of the rope forces you back up, forcing you to stay in a position that doesn't burn your wrists and yet your whole body is commanding you forward.

Your mind cannot process the predicament in which it finds itself, your exquisite eyes convey the bewilderment turmoil  that your mind finds itself within.  They display the longing, the hunger, the urgency, the desire, the passion and the beauty of your submissive depths.

Your eyes beseech, pleading before even a simple pleading can escape from your bitten lips.

I pull you closer, as close as your body will allow, your whole body straining against the ropes that bind you.  I silence your mouth once more with my own, covering your nose with my hand as I kiss you deeply, stealing your breath, taking everything from you.

Taking all that is yours.  Taking all that is mine. 

You are silenced.

Need...

"I close my eyes, inhale, and feel a rush of heat and energy that takes my breath away. It is the feeling of wanting something so much that it borders on an actual need, and the power and urgency of this need overwhelms me.”

… Emily Griffin, Love the One You’re With

And it is. And it does.

Silent Movie

I am sat next to him on the sofa, his legs outstretched they seem to go on forever.

I imagine them naked, my tongue working up the inside of his thigh, working its way gently until I reach his cock that I can see outlined beneath the material of his trousers.

My mind drifts from his legs to wondering how far down my throat his cock would reach, I am sure that it would fill me going on the bulge within his trousers.  As my eyes wander upwards, I see his eyes watching me appraise his body.  I look at him, feel my cheeks redden a little as if he can see the images that rush through my mind. 

Our gaze doesn't break, not even when you come into the room with the drink that I had asked you to fetch for us.  You stand there watching me, watching him, and I don't need to look at you to know what you're feeling or thinking.  I can sense the daggers flying from you to him, the rising jealousy coming from the pit of your stomach.  I know that you are hating him right now. Loving this right now. Knowing those feelings grow within you, make the feelings grow within me even more.  They go straight to the pit of my stomach, a flurry of excitement and deep arousal gushing through my veins, while your own body is engulfed in jealousy at the closeness of him and I.

You hold out the drinks and I am forced to break my gaze.  I stare at you, raising my eyebrows slightly.  You lower your eyes and blush and know what you have done and yet, you couldn't seem to help yourself.  You also know that I will deal with that interruption later.

You kneel down by my leg and I feel the grip that you take getting tighter by the moment, trying to draw reassurance.  I do not respond or acknowledge, instead choosing to ignore your tightening hold, as if you're afraid to let go for fear of forever losing all that you have.  You continue to watch me and him.

I lean across the sofa, leaning in to whisper into his ear "He's all yours" 

I remove my leg from your grip and stand to walk away.  From the floor you look at me, your eyes beseeching, searching for an answer, waiting for me to tell you to follow.

I don't.

You look bewildered, scared, dismayed that I am leaving you there.  You not being aware of my plans for you. 

Instead I walk out of the room, leaving you with him. Leaving the look of fear in your eyes, your reddening cheeks, your twitching cock.

I head to the garden with my drink, taking a seat on a chair that I know if I swivel around on I will be able to see you through the glazed doors. 

I sip my drink slowly, savouring the coldness of the liquid, thankful for the chance to moisten my mouth that was so dry from anticipation, from knowing what was going to happen.  The feelings that your growing jealousy sparked within me, my beast is prowling.  The beast is aching to be released and let free. I resist turning round for a short time, but what feels like an age.  I want to watch your struggles.

I want to see you.

And him.

I turn around on my chair, just in time to see you take his huge cock in your mouth.  His hands pulling you in closer by your hair, I see you gag and choke on the cock that is forcing its way into your mouth, the same cock I had only moments before, been envisaging down my own throat.

As my own arousal builds, I close my thighs tighter to revel in my own feelings, the ones that seeing you with him have created.  The ones that have gone straight to my cunt.

And I watch him.  Fucking your mouth. Complete disregard for the fact that you are choking and coughing and gagging on him every time he forces his cock deeper and deeper into your throat.  And I am watching him take you.  And I can see the tears forming at your eyes from where he is taking you.

You are Gagging. Choking. Taking him in deep, all of him.

It is like watching a most beautiful silent movie.  His hands tearing at your hair, forcing you onto him.  Forcing himself deeper in to you.  His own arousal as he approaches and releases his own orgasm.  A scene played out from start to finish.  A most beautiful scene.

I see him lean into you, whisper something in your ear, while making himself decent.  He turned, looked at me through the window, a nod. A smile. And he leaves.

I go back into the room you are still on the floor where I left you.  Where he left you.

Exhausted. Drained. Spent. 

I kiss you gently on the forehead and wait for you to come back to me, waiting for you to catch your breath.

Holding you close as you collapse into me, your arms gripping tightly around my legs as I stroke your head.

You smile.

I know that we will do this again.