always with me

Master,

I was at IKEA today shopping for a few things. I stopped to look for a particular plant in their plant section and stumbled upon their pet section. Out of the corner of my eye I saw some leashes and collars hanging from hooks. I immediately thought of you and then I giggled... right in the middle of the IKEA pet section I started to giggle out loud.

The leash and collar set that caught my eye was bright green and had white flowers on it... and I thought to myself, "Master would kill me if I brought something like that home for myself." I think it's cute, but I'm guessing you'll think it much too girly and silly for your taste. Am I right, Master? (please see photo below)

Always thinking of you,
your sweet one
x

when the soul wants, the soul waits

Still no contact. Sixteen days without any contact... and counting.


I'm trying very hard not to lose my mind, but it isn't easy. All of the unknowns make the control freak in me more than a little uncomfortable with this whole situation.


When will he return?

When will I hear from him again?

Where is he now?

Is he safe?

Am I being tested for patience and self-control?

Is this an exercise in training me for patience and self-control?

Am I being punished?

What kind of behaviour is acceptable under these circumstances?

What behaviour is desirable under these circumstances?


I've tried calling his cell a few times in the last week and the phone rings, so I'm fairly certain that he's still safe. I'll be worried out of my mind when and if his phone gets disconnected. I just hope that my attempts at contact will not be seen as punishable offenses... or offenses at all, for that matter. I wouldn't be this out of control if I knew when this will end... or what's going on. But then it wouldn't be much of a test or training on patience if I knew what to expect.

It's easy to be patient when you know exactly what's coming and when it's coming. Not knowing what will happen or how it will happen or when it will happen is a much bigger test of and exercise in patience. Perhaps that's what's happening here. After all, he knows I follow orders very well. So there would be no test if he were to tell me to sit tight for three weeks (or whatever arbitrary time frame). I could do that very easily. I would still miss him terribly, of course, but I could do it without losing my composure. So there would be no test or training involved in that scenario. This scenario, however, is definitely testing my patience.

On the other hand, if this isn't a test or a training exercise and if he is simply too busy to contact me then I'll be a little disappointed. I haven't been expecting daily contact. I was simply expecting an update when his trip went much longer than anticipated.

For now I need to focus on this being a test or training exercise (regardless of whether it is or isn't) and do my best in dealing with my overactive imagination and emotions.

when you are your worst enemy

I feel forgotten. I know I haven't been forgotten, but I feel that way.

The last contact I had with him was a very brief text message on May 14. That was over a week ago. The last contact I had with him before that was a wonderful conversation on May 9. That was two weeks ago. This isn't typical. We typically communicate daily... several times per day. That isn't possible right now because he's out of town.

I was warned before he left on May 8 that he would not have his cell phone turned on while away and that he would text me once or twice to update me on what was going on out there. So I should be ok with this... right? Right. Except that I'm not ok with it. That's not entirely true. The truth is that sometimes I feel ok with it and I feel the strength of our relationship... the strength of his integrity. Other times my insecurities kick in and I feel horribly frightened by the lack of contact.

There's a part of me that wants to be the perfect submissive. That part is screaming out to just sit tight and believe in him. That part tells me to relax and that he'll contact me when it's time to contact me and he'll be home soon. If he was done with me... if he no longer wanted me, then he would say so. We've been in each others lives and have developed our bond throughout the last ten years. You don't just throw that away with avoidance. So I'm trying to sit tight. I can usually talk myself into sitting tight, but it only lasts a little while before I have to give myself that talk again.

Then there's the other part of me that frightens easily. There have been too many men in my life who have been dishonest and who have lacked integrity. My painful experiences with those men have made it difficult for me to trust those who are trustworthy. It makes me feel disappointed with myself because I know I shouldn't make this man pay for the mistakes and crappy character flaws of others. So I continually remind myself that he is not them. I continually remind myself that this man has never been dishonest with me in all the years I've known him and that he has always been caring and genuine. I need to just keep reminding myself of that over and over and over again and hope that these feelings of doubt will dissipate over time.

What I SHOULD be doing in his absence is figuring out ways, on my own, to be better for him. I should be researching and brainstorming for ways to impress him and please him upon his return. That is where my focus should be and that is where I will be reshifting my focus as of right now. I told him I wanted to make him happy and I need to show him that those words are more than just lip service.

gospel

Lots of people refer to submission as a gift. I don't agree with that notion. My submission is not a gift.

A gift is given to a person with no expectation for anything in return. When you give someone something, it becomes theirs to do with as they please. They can make use of it as you intended or they can have it sit on a shelf and collect dust while it is completely neglected or they can re-gift it to another or even discard it. And you don't take a gift back - that would simply be very poor etiquette!

None of those would be an acceptable way for my submission to be handled. If my submission were to be handled in those ways, then I would most definitely take it back. When I choose to submit, I do it with certain expectations. That leads to another statement I've heard from others - submissives don't get to have any expectations. Oh, but I beg to differ! I have a few expectations - we may even call them conditions. Yes, yes... my submission is conditional. Now you get why I don't think of it as a gift.

I expect my hard limits to be respected.
I expect my soft limits to be approached with caution.
I expect my owner to invest in our relationship - with his time, attention, and necessary training / teaching to help make me a better submissive for him and to make our relationship a successful one.
I expect my owner to make choices that are in the best interest of our relationship.

I expect my owner to be consistent - to say what he means and to mean what he says.

That last expectation has been on my mind lately, but I'll come back to that after a little recap of the overall situation.

I am currently "in training". I don't really agree with that concept because I think I will always be in training because he will always be pushing me to learn more and teaching me new ways to please him. The distinction of being his "sub in training" versus simply being his submissive was made because current circumstances do not permit me to submit fully to him and those same circumstances make him refuse to make me his completely. So I am in training until the appropriate changes can be made. So, for the time being, very little is expected of me. When he asks something of me I'm expected to do it, but he really hasn't been asking much of me at all. As a matter of fact, I've only been given three tasks (easy ones, at that) in the span of a month. I'm expected to be respectful at all times and obedient at all times, but that has never been an issue for the ten years I have known him. The one thing I AM struggling with is having patience and learning to walk before I attempt running, but I'm working on that.

Although he demands little of me at this time and I expect little of him at this time, I DO expect him to fulfill that last expectation on my list. I expect him to say what he means and to mean what he says for the simple reason that it builds and solidifies trust. So when he says something as simple as "We'll talk tomorrow morning before my flight", I count on talking to him tomorrow morning before his flight. When morning comes and goes and I don't hear from him nor am I able to reach him, it saddens me and makes me feel a little heartbroken. Of course, I understand things happen and life sometimes gets in the way of plans. However this is more difficult to accept when it happens repeatedly.

You see, his words are gospel to me - or at least they should be. So every time he doesn't do what he says he'll do, his words lose a little bit of value. And now, after this has happened about a handful of times in the last month, I am beginning to doubt him. For example, I told a girlfriend today that he left for his business trip this morning and that he had told me he would text me a couple of times during his trip to let me know what was going on. I followed that statement with an "we'll see"... which shows doubt. I shouldn't be doubting his word. I shouldn't be doubting him, but I do because there have been times when he hasn't followed through (for legitimate reasons) with his word.

My fear is that I will get to the point where I don't trust anything he says. Once I get to that point there's no turning back nor moving forward from there.

reconnecting

I finally made it through the one-hour-plus drive to his house. I noticed that the closer I got, the more I felt that little ache - like a fire in my belly. He had told me to go right in; the door was unlocked. I opened the door while balancing a paper bag with the burger and fries he asked me to pick up on my way, a large paper cup with his Coke in it, my keys, and my purse. It was my first time there.

I stepped in. The place was a mess, but I was expecting that. He was rebuilding the home and in the midst of construction. Furniture and tools were everywhere, the floor was unfinished, the walls were unfinished, etc. I stepped in and whispered a tentative "Master?"

"Lock the door so we won't be disturbed." Did I detect a different tone? A firmer tone, perhaps. I wasn't sure.

"Yes, Master." Again, I struggled to balance everything in my hands and locked the door.

"You'll want to keep your shoes on."

I walked around the wall that was keeping him from my sight and stopped breathing for a moment when I saw him. My heart beat faster and I was, once again, filled with a feeling of intimidation mixed with arousal. He was laying on the bed, wearing his black leather pants and a white shirt. I loved the way he looked in those pants. I love the way they smell. I love the way they feel. I approached slowly but deliberately, certain he could see the intimidation in my eyes and my demeanor. I held out the bag and drink and asked where I should put it. He sat up on the edge of the bed and took them from me to set them down. I placed my purse on the floor, next to the couch and then turned to face him, feeling exceptionally nervous as I met his gaze.

He motioned with his hand and with his head that I should kneel before him. I whimpered and started to pant as I dropped down on my knees between his. My palms rested on his thighs and I grinded my hips when I felt the softness of the leather surrounding his muscled thighs. He held my head with his hands and tilted it downwards so that my gaze fell on the floor and he instructed me to not look upon his face unless I'm granted permission to do so. Then he reached beside him on the bed and brought forward a leather collar with leather leash attached. He removed the leash and placed the collar around my neck, then re-attached the leash. I moaned with desire.

"It looks good on you."

"Thank you, Master."

Then he did the same with padded leather wrist cuffs and a padded leather blindfold - all black, of course. He asked me to stand. I obeyed. He spun me around and attached my wrists together behind my back, linking the cuffs together with a leather criss-crossing hogtie device. With my hands bound behind me, my back arched and my breasts pushed forward, he wrapped his arms around me from behind and caressed my ribcage and waist. I tilted my head back and to the side to offer him my neck and pushed and grinded my ass back against him, encouraging his cock to harden against me. He spun me around again instructed me to kneel on the bed. I did and he braced my right shoulder with his arm.

"Fall forward. I won't allow you to get hurt. Are you ready?"

I whimpered fearfully, "No", but I fell forward anyway. Then he bound my ankles together with rope and told me to scoot over. I slinked over while bound, bouncing my hips on the bed while moving further to my right. I turned my head to face in his direction when I felt him join me on the bed - it was the only part of me that was still mobile. I moaned and humped the bed when I felt the warmth of his hand against my flesh.

"Ok, now that I have your full, undistracted attention... let's talk."

"Yes, Master."


There was more than talking. There was tickling, massaging, at some point a posture collar made an appearance, and a buggy whip too. There was some hair-pulling and face slapping - both of which turned me into a whimpering aroused slut. And, of course, there was even a little bit of ass-spanking. All in all a very enjoyable time. And now I only want him more.

turning the page

On to a new chapter. Details will follow shortly. I think this will prove to be a major turning point in my life and the start of finally feeling fulfilled.

just a dream

I know I should let go, but I can't. Even in my sleep I am tormented by thoughts of you, dreams of you... of us. Two nights ago I dream this dream:

I came to your city to run my first marathon - not because it was your city, but because I had vowed to run my first marathon there long before I had met you. I hadn't contacted you to tell you I'd be there because we had stopped communicating awhile ago and I figured you just wouldn't care to see me and had forgotten all about me. I ran my marathon and was thrilled. I knew no one would be at the finish line for me, but it didn't matter because I did this for me.

A fellow runner was chatting me up and just as he's suggesting we go out for dinner and drinks to celebrate I feel a firm grasp on my arm pulling me away. I turn and am shocked to see your face.

"Congratulations, little girl. You did good."

I continue to look at you in shock, at a loss for words. You grab my hair at the back of my head tightly in your fist and you pull me in for a long, passionate kiss that makes me weak in the knees. You break the kiss only to lick my face. I whimper and start to pant - immediately hungry for you. I whimper "Master".

You whisper in my ear, "Yes, baby. Your Master is here," I moan loudly and start to beg. I want to cum. I need to cum. I beg to have you inside me... in every hole.

"Not here, baby. Let's go."

I wake and I sob when I realize it was only a dream. It felt so real, seemed so real. I wish it had been real.