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| Blogs > Robinsnestisbest > Legacy of BDSM |
Walking bowlegged
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Walking bowlegged Junkies and the misfortunates roam the streets of LA. Most harmless, some are deadly. If it was nighttime, I would not have wandered the dirty streets so recklessly. I need a drink. I am thirsty and water won't quench my need. I am blessed beyond measure. I find that my old salvation has returned. Sierra Mist, the only American commercially produced soda that has pure cane sugar (digestible to me) is back on the shelves. I am cum drunk, the state I call the ecstasy that accompanies the natural drug induced (adrenaline, dopamine, norepinephrine, oxytocin, testosterone, serotonin, endorphins, prolactin, and limerence) euphoria of orgasming repeatedly and walking bowlegged. Each step hurts the pussy and helps me etch the minute details of the last hour into my brain so that not a single drop of pleasure remains undocumented. It began with a tease. You know I am simply waiting for Your notice that You stated at the beginning of the week. "I guess you should know that if this conversation goes like it should I am going to fuck you and have my complete way with you." I have been waiting to hear when You'd come for me. Today, You rang early and hard. I hoped You were going to tell me, but it didn't happen. You called again. After a longer conversation, the topic turned to the lustful ways that lead to my orgasms. I describe how I masturbate. I love that You are listening to me like auditory porn on Your way into work. I cum hard, repeatedly. You order me to explode...I squirt all over the bed. Back to cleaning. My head is in a state that my world needs to be in order. Cleaning is the most meditative, therapeutic form of putting everything in its place. Here is where You found me. I count well. Three hours to get there, means that within 20 minutes after arrival You were calling me for my address. I couldn't allow myself to get hopeful. Keep scrubbing the walls. In the kitchen doing dishes You call again. You give me a 40 minute warning. My pussy and leg hairs are between a half an inch to an in long. My kitchen and floors, bathroom and kitchen are not done. I assess the best way to clean so that I can meet You for our conversation. Surely there is no need to shave, yet. What am I going to do, bring You here? Sleep has been a deserting friend this week waiting for You. I am so alive and full of energy while my mind races with thoughts of physically being with You as well as deep analysis of my mental and emotional maturity to make sure I am ready for something magical with You. I finish the kitchen, or as much as I could, in 25 minutes. I swear that time stood still so that my tasks could be accomplished. A cold tub waits for me to combat the heat and do my best to prepare for You. One leg hairless. In olden days, that meant I've dulled the new razor enough to where it perfectly shaves my pussy. Although that wasn't on the time schedule, I had to do it. If You were to see me hairy, I wouldn't feel I was serving You best. I still have one severely ingrown hair from my first<b> shave </font></b>in months when I sent You that picture. I had been waiting for the second<b> shave </font></b>as when I begin shaving again, I gain hundreds of painful ingrown hairs. Round two won't be any different but the pain is more than worth Your pleasure. Somehow I finished just in time for our song to come on my playlist. It isn't "our song" per se. Most likely You have never heard it. "It's No Good" by Depeche Mode (lyrics in footnote 1). I feel this song's energy emanating from You and Your desires/control. The lyrics take me each time to You. As it comes to a conclusion, I hear Your vehicle. I jump out of the shower in time to receive Your text. I have laid out clothing to meet You. I choose sandals vs. heels for comfort. The first thing I see is Your sandals when I open the door for You. I don't know what I am suppose to do. I want to kiss You desperately, but I refrain as I will do nothing to fuck this up. I follow Your lead and guide You to my place. Going up the stairs, I become very glad I chose a skirt instead of the shorts as Your hand finds its way deep inside me. Inside I kick my sandals off. I know from the power exuding from You that we aren't going to sit down and have a conversation. If that is to take place, this is not the moment. I keep my head down and don't look at you. Brilliant white Harley Davidson shirt, comfortable jeans and other details are absorbed through my peripheral vision. You pin my back up against the door. I should be worried about...a list of things crosses my mind now, but in Your arms there were no worries. With my head lowered, I steady my nerves to see if this is real. Looking at You, in Your eyes, I melt. Most close their eyes so they can be where they really wish to be, I am here with You, my world is complete and perfect. Seeing You so powerful and handsome. "Do not look at me now." You say as you meet my eyes. I know now....eyes lowered is not head down looking up. I close my eyes and hold Your sexy masculine image in my head. You pin my arms against the wall. I am helpless, not simply to Your overpowering muscles, but to Your will. My skirt comes off first. You've lifted my shirt so Your lips and teeth locate their target on my exposed nipple. My thumb is too far away to prevent my screams so I push my tongue hard against the roof of my mouth. It doesn't have the same effect. My heart is racing, pounding so deeply I fear it will explode. Your hands roam over my flesh. You drop my skirt to the floor. I don't wait for Your order, I know what You want. I spread my legs far. I keep my hands on the wall in mental bondage as You ravage my pussy and body. You take off my shirt. I cum and squirt in Your hand with Your skilled finger manipulations and the brilliant pain You are causing. You lead me to the center of the room. The invisible wall between her space and mine hits me as a brick wall and I stop dead in my tracks when we get close to her bed. I rarely go there and do not want the memory nor energy of You in that space. I want my bed to absorb us so that when I am alone on it like now, YOU ARE EVERYWHERE around me. You understand and I gladly get on my hands and knees on my daybed and await You. The belt is every bit as hard and unyeilding as You said. My thumb in my mouth, I can take anything from YOU! I steady myself for a beating of a lifetime. I love the feeling. I can sense Your immense control on the strikes being dealt. I sense Your avid attention. Most strikes are kisses and feel like bliss. Occasionally You deal a harder one. I could do this for hours. During this You ask "Are You done playing games now?" In spite of Your previous command, this seems to be a very serious moment. I bend around so that I can look You in the eyes briefly and say "Yes Sir." How the hell after this moment in time could I ever do anything other than believe in You. I was never allowed to suck my thumb as a . My brother was two when I was acquired and it took my parents until he was 12 after they put a special metal orthodontic piece in his mouth to break him of the habit. I wasn't sure how You'd react. Would I disgust You? When You were done with the belt and what followed You answered those questions in the most loving ways. Pussy dripping, Your hand softly rubs my ass, admiring Your handiwork. I feel Your fingers dive in. I want what You desire so I spread my legs far apart to open myself up to Your hand. I can feel Your spittle drop as You utilize my ample wetness to lube Your way in. Holy shit that hurts. The pain makes me cum. I suck on my thumb as I try to relax and not push You out from the orgasm. I am cumming as if Your fist was an orgasm instigator set of full speed! The moment one orgasm would start I would barely breathe a breath until You were forcing another upon me. I squirted some of the time. I couldn't stay still. You were so large. Micro-tares formed. Pain equals orgasm, fisting equals extreme pain, pleasure and plethora of orgasms. At one moment it felt like You were clawing Your way all of the way to my heart. You were so deep inside of me and pushing further than I imagined could be possible. I grabbed onto the bed, mental note, need more solid frame as I will break the current wood with my hands when being ravaged by You. "Relax." You say. I am cumming so hard the command is virtually impossible to follow but I am determined to obey at all costs. Breathless from the incessant orgasmic utopia, You lay me down on the bed. You sit down beside me. Is this my imagination or our connection? I see from overhead You looking down on me. My eyes are closed, my thumb in my mouth. The intensity of Your compassion pierces my soul as You position my body to the resting moment. As ferocious as You had been, this was the perfect Yang. Your hand gently rested upon me. I smiled. Have I ever been closer to anyone in my life. My mind was empty. Only your breath and your hand were real. "Are you ok?" How can words convey the heights of my elation and sensations. My pussy was constantly shuttering in afterglow orgasms. Was it still my pussy? It doesn't matter. Mine, Yours, it is all the same. Peaceful tranquility and amazing touch. Please don't get me wrong. I want to be the lady who proudly says this is Your pussy. "Wonderful. Fantastic. I am with You, which is much better than ok?" You stand up and roll me over onto my back. I hope that it is for magic of Your cock, but instead You use Your magical fingers to entice another round of earth shattering orgasms. You hold my shoulders down. I had come simply by thinking of that thought earlier in the day on the phone with You when You were directing me to play with myself and now it was reality. I orgasmed instantly with Your desirable weight upon me. You move my hands to my shoulders. Your hands and lips move to my breasts. Your pain causes me to orgasm so intensely my body convulsed. You sit down beside me and use the newly produced moisture to take possession of my soul again. I have never been so skillfully fisted. My mind was becoming delirious from the lowered oxygen and brain chemicals. You placed me into resting position again. That is the only coherent name for what You do in between. You moved my thumb to my mouth and told me to breathe. You stroked the hairs from my face with the grace of angles wings. Your hand rested on my leg. In my deepest meditations I cannot silence my brain to any level near the silence that occurs when You hold, watch over and protect me that way. I wasn't thinking about anything. I was simply present. There with You. Your hands find their way back to the sweet spot. You arranged my pillows to present me in a different way for Your pleasure. Again You pinned me down, knowing what a thrill it is. Sweet bruises have formed reminding me You were here. Pussy juices squirted on the bed. Rapid rolling of Your fingers and other techniques were squirreled away in my memory banks. Your master manipulation was teaching this old several new tricks. You had me cumming so hard the need to squirt was beyond painful. I put my finger to my button to push it over the edge. Was that allowed? Was that disrespectful? Those thoughts quickly entered my head and were whisked away in a flash. There was no room for doubt. I know You well enough by now to know You are more than capable and have zero issue correcting me. You place me in the resting position. This time the amount of care and detail to the position was noted, especially the placement of one foot upon the other leg. Beside me again I am smiling. I am more alert and aware this time than previously. The softness of Your lips and whiskers upon my leg. They are trimmed shorter than I think I have seen. Once more they bless my spirit. You stand up, noises are occurring. "Stay in little space." You state as You walk away. I feel so safe. I don't think I ever realized all of those times You talked about protecting me that You were referring to much more than simply my physical safety. I realized although I want to be Your queen, You would protect me regardless as You were doing now. In a matter of only forty five minutes, I saw so much of You I did not know to anticipate. I stayed safely in little space knowing You would be my King regardless. i.e. You will always receive my respect and service regardless of whether or not You choose to own me. You returned and laid down beside me arms wrapping me up in Your warm embrace. I was silent and reveled in being completely held by You. I looked at Your fingers, memorizing every line and shape and Your perfect nail. The deep sun kisses that bronze Your flesh. I could have fallen asleep in a heartbeat. It has been days since I have slept more than a few hours at a time. Serenity. You get up, walk around the daybed and stand in front of me. COCK!!! Wait no. That isn't what is happening here at all. This isn't the next round. This is Your departure. I get to look in Your eyes. I search for signs that I have done wrong and that is why You are going. This was neither a conversation or a fucking. I don't know where I stand. Solid. In Your eyes I saw the answer. I stand sold. You have claimed my flesh today in so many ways my pussy is still having orgasmic aftershocks. You owe me nothing. I stand solid. If You see me again. If You offer me Your collar. If. If. If. If's are no longer my concern. You're in control. You ask me to call You in a little bit. You ask me to think about if there is anything I need/ or want that I did not get. I am so perfect at this moment in time the question seems preposterous. You walk out the door. I close my eyes. NO! This is not what I do. I stand up. I go to the window. I believe every moment in time is valuable and I am not going to waste this one! I watch You as You head towards Red. Relaxed yet confident stride. You are a King and watching Your direct path to Your truck turns me on. The way You handle her and turn her around it the parking lot has juices running down my thighs knowing that if things go as they should, someday or many days, I'll be sliding down on that stick shift. Facing me You are handsome as You wait at the stop sign. I look into the trees as You pass out of my line of sight. |
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