Posted by cerrynn1 on Wed 31 Dec 03, 2:12 PM to cerrynn1's blog.
If you have arrived at this site via a link from outside Informed Consent, please be aware that that link was published without our permission and against our expressed wishes. But now that you are here: Welcome. Although I call this "a fantasy," Matou and I are a real-life, 24/7 D/s-BDSM lifestyle couple, living in the United Kingdom and active members of the UK BDSM community. The following is a fantasy only in that we are temporarily, geographically, separated. The description that follows is based on our *real* life together, on what we *really* do ... as we are very much *real* people, enjoying a real and loving relationship. We invite you to read our other weblog entries to gain a better contextual understanding of *our* D/s way of life. -- Matou & cerrynn{M}
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This is a fantasy ... I'm *not* home yet, and don't know when I will be. But as the old year fades away I look into the future and think of a scene. A scene which has yet to happen, may happen, may not happen ... who knows?
* * * * *
I am home, at last, finally. Matou is sitting in his chair, I am sitting on my cushion at his feet.
He says, "Stand up, pet."
I stand before him. He gestures to his lap. "Here. Now."
I'm hesitant ... what have I done to deserve punishment? I've only been home a few hours ... have I slipped up already?
Matou reads my mind. "You haven't done anything, pet ... unless, perhaps, you wish to count the moments when you doubted that this moment would ever come, the moments when you lost hope that you'd ever be back here. Silly, silly girl."
He's right. There were moments like that, moments in which I despaired that I would ever escape from exile, moments when I gave up hope that *this* moment would ever be.
"Perhaps it is for those moments, in part, but primarily I'm going to spank you now because it pleases me to do so."
The dogs, Liz and Lemon, are sleeping on the sofa. Hearing our voices, they lift their heads. Liz especially tends to be protective of me -- in years and places past she used to position herself between me and my ex-husband when we were fighting, making sure that no harm came to me. I worried the first times Matou and I played in front of her, but she knew from the start -- as did I -- that while Matou might hurt me, he would never *harm* me. They lower their heads and go back to sleep.
The moment when I crawl onto Matou's lap for an over- the-knee spanking is always difficult for me. Matou likes to tease me sometimes, telling me (and others!) how challenging it is to embarrass an exhibitionist. He has a point ... yet, I wonder if he knows how truly embarrassing, how erotically embarrassing it is for me to submit to him like this. It's one of those actions where I feel gangling and awkward, aware of every inch of my body, of my excess height. I have yet to develop a method of *gracefully* crawling onto his lap ... and that *does* embarrass me. Yet it also makes me wet with desire.
And so once again I bow to him, bending my knees and positioning myself, my face nearly touching the floor, my legs extended, my hips and bottom up and protruding. I don't have too many "body image" insecurities (thankfully!) but I have never been particularly pleased with the appearance (as much as I can see of it, that is!) of my posterior regions. In my less confident moments, I find it hard to believe that Matou can truly enjoy seeing it, touching it, caning or flogging or spanking it. In the position in which I now find myself, those thoughts again rise, adding to my embarrassment, but paradoxically also adding to my arousal. I can feel myself blushing, and wonder if the blush is limited to my face.
This act, revealing myself to Matou in this way ... knowing he can see me in a way I can never see myself, see me at my most physically vulnerable and (to my mind, at least) unlovely ... for me, this is one of the acts which in and of itself will send me deep into submissive mode. That, and that now, with my toes just brushing the floor, the carpet inches away from my eyes, I really can do very little to alter either my position, or what will happen to me ... it all combines to send me down to a mind-set where I feel open, examined, entirely at Matou's mercy, and yet (again paradoxically!) safe and cared for and loved.
Matou pulls my knickers down, quickly, roughly -- then runs his right hand over my skin. Involuntarily I raise my head, perhaps to say ... something? What? I'm not even sure, but his left hand knots my hair and pushes my head down.
"Ah! Stay still, girl."
I do. I almost forget to breathe. I stop resisting and let my head fall toward the floor. Something inside me relaxes, accepting the inevitability of what will happen.
I feel his hand moving over my skin, caressing, warming ... I know that I am dripping wet, and the movement of his hands, testing my responses, feeling me, lets me know that he knows it, too. Then the smoothing and the feeling stop, and there is, for a moment, nothing. Then -- a burning explosion of concentrated sting.
My head comes up as I wince, my muscles tensing. Matou pushes my head down again, then leans over me, securing my body, preventing me from moving away. The pain comes again, on the other side, still stronger and hotter. And again, and again. Then slower, softer ... I relax. But before I've caught my breath, Matou's hand comes down on me again, harder than I thought possible. The sensation in some ways is as intense as the sting from Matou's thin, "whippy" cane, yet instead of a line of fire there is a solid sheet of it, spreading further and further, burning, each new strike compounding the pain and the heat and the sting from those preceeding, taking me closer and closer to ... what? Climaxing? Safewording? Both?
This has happened before -- occasionally I've heard people classify spanking as a mild activity, a gentle introduction to the world of BDSM. But Matou's spanking technique is -- to me, at least -- in a different class altogether. Invariably he can, with his hands alone, through a "simple" hand-spanking, bring me to the point of safewording. The pain and the love and the pain redoubled that I feel through his hands challenge me more than virtually anything else.
I don't want to safeword, I don't want this to end ... as long as the sting and the heat and the pain continue I know that I am here, in Coventry, with my Master, where I am meant to be ... alive, feeling, submitting, loving. I remind myself to breathe deeply and slowly, so that I can continue to experience all of this, the sensations that I love at the hands of the man that I love so very, very much.
At some point I break though, the pain becomes more than pain and less than pain and suddenly I am flying ... yet I am safe, no matter how high I go, how far, because I am home, the minute Matou chooses to call me back to the security of his hands.
* * * * *
Happy New Year, everyone. May your every wish come true.
To Matou ... Akemashite omedetoo gozaimasu, kotoshi-mo o-seiwa ni narimasu (I'll tell you what it means when we talk later tonight!). Ai shiteru, Sensei, itsumo ... and I miss you more than I can say.
your cerrynn{M}
Edited Wed 7 Jan 04, 10:56 PM by cerrynn1
