Posts tagged Waiting

Posted 2 years ago
Turning around to take a seat I am shocked to find you kneeling submissively before me. My heart leaps into my throat as your position and posture communicate more than any words ever could. I am nearly moved to tears as you present yourself to me in a most respectful and submissive manner. It is all I can do but to reach out and embrace you and tell you everything will be OK, and we will be OK, and that you are indeed my cherished little one. But you have asked to speak with me, and with all the resolve I can muster I sit silently down to listen to what you have to say.
"Sir," you begin, eyes cast down at the floor, face hidden behind your beautiful long hair. "I have been thinking long and hard about the nature of my submission as you directed me to do. And I admit that I am deeply conflicted over certain elements of our relationship and the role that I play in it."
As you speak, the fear that you may indeed leave me rises anew.
"I am indeed struggling with the service element of our relationship and have a very difficult time submitting to your will when you direct me to serve you domestically or in other ways that feel even remotely demeaning or menial," you continue. "I am trying to understand why this is because in my heart I want to submit to you and no one but you. I want to please you and serve you and give myself and my life over to you. It does please me very much to do so and I crave my release of control and your leadership and control of me."
I make to speak but then decide to bite my tongue and just listen.
"I want to surrender to you entirely and serve you as you see fit. I feel complete and whole when I am able to do so without reservation. But there is this part of me that is clinging to my old self, the person that I molded for all those years before we met. That independent and willful person who determined her own destiny and took orders from no one unless there was a paycheck involved."
"To be the person you want me to be and are working so hard to mold me into being, I have to let go of that other me. The past me. And it is like dying in one sense and being reborn in another. Even though I know that my rebirth is like a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis, the caterpillar has to let go of the life it knew first. It is that life that I am struggling to let go of. And when I struggle with letting go, it manifests itself in the form of defiance of your will and desires for me."
Caption © For the Love of A Submissive, 2012
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Turning around to take a seat I am shocked to find you kneeling submissively before me. My heart leaps into my throat as your position and posture communicate more than any words ever could. I am nearly moved to tears as you present yourself to me in a most respectful and submissive manner. It is all I can do but to reach out and embrace you and tell you everything will be OK, and we will be OK, and that you are indeed my cherished little one. But you have asked to speak with me, and with all the resolve I can muster I sit silently down to listen to what you have to say.

"Sir," you begin, eyes cast down at the floor, face hidden behind your beautiful long hair. "I have been thinking long and hard about the nature of my submission as you directed me to do. And I admit that I am deeply conflicted over certain elements of our relationship and the role that I play in it."

As you speak, the fear that you may indeed leave me rises anew.

"I am indeed struggling with the service element of our relationship and have a very difficult time submitting to your will when you direct me to serve you domestically or in other ways that feel even remotely demeaning or menial," you continue. "I am trying to understand why this is because in my heart I want to submit to you and no one but you. I want to please you and serve you and give myself and my life over to you. It does please me very much to do so and I crave my release of control and your leadership and control of me."

I make to speak but then decide to bite my tongue and just listen.

"I want to surrender to you entirely and serve you as you see fit. I feel complete and whole when I am able to do so without reservation. But there is this part of me that is clinging to my old self, the person that I molded for all those years before we met. That independent and willful person who determined her own destiny and took orders from no one unless there was a paycheck involved."

"To be the person you want me to be and are working so hard to mold me into being, I have to let go of that other me. The past me. And it is like dying in one sense and being reborn in another. Even though I know that my rebirth is like a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis, the caterpillar has to let go of the life it knew first. It is that life that I am struggling to let go of. And when I struggle with letting go, it manifests itself in the form of defiance of your will and desires for me."

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Posted 2 years ago
Having untied your arms and massaged your aching and tired shoulders and elbows back to some semblance of life, I present you with your last challenge of the morning.
"My pet, I know I have told you how a Dom loves to place his sub in a predicament and for the last challenge of your will this morning I propose just such a thing," I begin smiling broadly. You look at me skeptically as you kneel before me flexing your arms and shoulders, working the kinks and fatigue out of them. "I know your arms are tired and sore after the difficult position I had them bound in behind your back, but that my dear is precisely what I am hoping for," the familiar leer crossing my face as I explain.
"Place your hands behind your head and hold them there." You comply but it is clear that it takes a considerable effort to fight the fatigue in your arms and shoulders. You lace your fingers together to help give support.
Producing a set of clover clamps and chain you slam your elbows forward and shrink away, “No please Sir, my nipples are so sore and tender right now, I don’t think I could take more of that,” you plead.
Crouching in front of you I take your cheek in my hand and lovingly caress your face. “My love, you do not have to do anything you do not want to, but this is my final challenge of the day for you. Succeed in this and we will spend the rest of the day in the park taking in all the flowers and the warm spring air.” You smile at the idea and little by little your elbows open and you hold your arms to the side presenting your breasts to me. You cast your gaze at the floor and nod once. We shall proceed.
"Keep breathing my little one," I instruct as I place each clover clamp on your tender and over sensitized nipples. I position them vertically pointing skyward holding their weight from dropping with the chain. You suck in sharply as each clamp is applied and breath quickly and purposely through your mouth, working through the pain.
"Very good my pet, very, very good. You are learning to manage the pain through proper breathing. Internalize the feeling but do not go inside yourself. Keep breathing.
Holding the chain in front of your eyes I keep the weight of the clamps, chain and the heavy key that is attached to them from dropping and pulling on your nipples. Their combined weight would twist and pull at your nipples viciously and I do not want that to happen. At least not yet.
"Keep one hand behind your head my love and hold this key with the other between your outstretched fingers," I command. "That’s right, take it from me. Don’t let your arm down and don’t drop the key or believe me my pet, it will be quite uncomfortable." 
You give me one of those wonderful defiant looks I have come to expect when asking for the unreasonable but as always drop your eyes and fixate on your task. The fatigue in your arms from being bound uncomfortably is obvious as your hand slips from the back of your head occasionally and the other hand holding the key drifts ever so slightly here and there.
You are concentrating with all your might on holding the chain up and not letting the clamps drop but with each passing minute the effort becomes more and more excruciating, so desperate are you to drop your exhausted arms. You bite your lip and stare at the floor, every ounce of energy and mental effort is used to fight the pull of gravity on your arms and the clamps.
As I stand back and take you in, I am once again impressed at the strength of your will to submit and achieve the challenges I set out for you. You are so strong. As your arms waver with the strain, I kneel back down in front of you, reach between your creamy thighs and massage your soaking pussy. You gasp and nearly drop your arms in response.
"Holding the key from dropping and thus preventing serious discomfort is only the predicament my love," I croon, massaging your clit and delving between your slick lips. "Holding it until you cum is the challenge. Let’s see which comes first, coming, dropping your arms, or both."
You moan from the strain in your arms and the pleasure being administered by your Master between your parted legs. Each time you fall into the pleasure and become distracted your arm drops slightly only to snap back up again as the clamps painfully twist at your nipples. Such a predicament. I am enjoying myself immensely as I work your pussy over driving you inexorably toward orgasm. The only question…will you be able to hold your arms up long enough to get there.
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Having untied your arms and massaged your aching and tired shoulders and elbows back to some semblance of life, I present you with your last challenge of the morning.

"My pet, I know I have told you how a Dom loves to place his sub in a predicament and for the last challenge of your will this morning I propose just such a thing," I begin smiling broadly. You look at me skeptically as you kneel before me flexing your arms and shoulders, working the kinks and fatigue out of them. "I know your arms are tired and sore after the difficult position I had them bound in behind your back, but that my dear is precisely what I am hoping for," the familiar leer crossing my face as I explain.

"Place your hands behind your head and hold them there." You comply but it is clear that it takes a considerable effort to fight the fatigue in your arms and shoulders. You lace your fingers together to help give support.

Producing a set of clover clamps and chain you slam your elbows forward and shrink away, “No please Sir, my nipples are so sore and tender right now, I don’t think I could take more of that,” you plead.

Crouching in front of you I take your cheek in my hand and lovingly caress your face. “My love, you do not have to do anything you do not want to, but this is my final challenge of the day for you. Succeed in this and we will spend the rest of the day in the park taking in all the flowers and the warm spring air.” You smile at the idea and little by little your elbows open and you hold your arms to the side presenting your breasts to me. You cast your gaze at the floor and nod once. We shall proceed.

"Keep breathing my little one," I instruct as I place each clover clamp on your tender and over sensitized nipples. I position them vertically pointing skyward holding their weight from dropping with the chain. You suck in sharply as each clamp is applied and breath quickly and purposely through your mouth, working through the pain.

"Very good my pet, very, very good. You are learning to manage the pain through proper breathing. Internalize the feeling but do not go inside yourself. Keep breathing.

Holding the chain in front of your eyes I keep the weight of the clamps, chain and the heavy key that is attached to them from dropping and pulling on your nipples. Their combined weight would twist and pull at your nipples viciously and I do not want that to happen. At least not yet.

"Keep one hand behind your head my love and hold this key with the other between your outstretched fingers," I command. "That’s right, take it from me. Don’t let your arm down and don’t drop the key or believe me my pet, it will be quite uncomfortable." 

You give me one of those wonderful defiant looks I have come to expect when asking for the unreasonable but as always drop your eyes and fixate on your task. The fatigue in your arms from being bound uncomfortably is obvious as your hand slips from the back of your head occasionally and the other hand holding the key drifts ever so slightly here and there.

You are concentrating with all your might on holding the chain up and not letting the clamps drop but with each passing minute the effort becomes more and more excruciating, so desperate are you to drop your exhausted arms. You bite your lip and stare at the floor, every ounce of energy and mental effort is used to fight the pull of gravity on your arms and the clamps.

As I stand back and take you in, I am once again impressed at the strength of your will to submit and achieve the challenges I set out for you. You are so strong. As your arms waver with the strain, I kneel back down in front of you, reach between your creamy thighs and massage your soaking pussy. You gasp and nearly drop your arms in response.

"Holding the key from dropping and thus preventing serious discomfort is only the predicament my love," I croon, massaging your clit and delving between your slick lips. "Holding it until you cum is the challenge. Let’s see which comes first, coming, dropping your arms, or both."

You moan from the strain in your arms and the pleasure being administered by your Master between your parted legs. Each time you fall into the pleasure and become distracted your arm drops slightly only to snap back up again as the clamps painfully twist at your nipples. Such a predicament. I am enjoying myself immensely as I work your pussy over driving you inexorably toward orgasm. The only question…will you be able to hold your arms up long enough to get there.

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Posted 2 years ago

Before placing the clothespins on your nipples I stand back and drink you in, enjoying the sight of you there on the floor kneeling before me all the while building your anticipation and perhaps even dread. You are always so alluring as you present yourself to me at attention. But this time it needs something.

Stepping behind you, I clasp your wrists in each hand and gently raise them up your back into a cross. “Yes I think to myself, that’s exactly what is needed.” You groan a little at the strain in your elbows and shoulders but otherwise do not complain.

Pulling my belt from my pants I slip it around your wrists and tightly bind them together ensuring that you hold this position and present your breasts to me to best advantage.

"That is precisely the effect I was looking for my pet. It renders your lovely nipples quite helpless to my attentions now," I point out giving each a couple little teasing flicks with my finger. The effect is immediate as they proudly present themselves rather against your will for my renewed attention with the clothespins.

"Let us go back to what we were doing now, shall we love?"

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Posted 2 years ago

With your Master’s firm grip on each of your upper arms you feel yourself being guided backward insistently but wordlessly. When the mattress presses against the back of your legs you feel yourself being lowered gently but firmly back onto the bed, your legs lifted and swung onto the cool waiting sheets.

No words are exchanged and you remain in your black and silent world behind the blindfold, senses heightened and anticipation boiling. In the dark silence you desperately wish that He would clasp your legs in his strong hands, part them aggressively, and take you right then and there. You have been on the edge of orgasm so many times and for so long, all you can think of, no pray for, is for Him to plunge deeply into your starving sex, driving you over the edge into blissful agony.  But instead there is only silence and waiting.

It seems to go on and on for an eternity. Then finally…

"You may touch yourself my pet," you hear from somewhere across the room.

"Where is He?" you wonder to yourself as you reach for your still moist and engorged sex. "Why can’t he just climb on top of me and give us both what we are so desperately craving? Why does he always have to play these endless games?"

But of course you are not really being entirely honest with yourself either. You love these games. You would not have this any other way if given the choice you think to yourself as you idly massage your swollen lips.

"That’s right my pet, keep yourself warmed up and interested," you hear from across the room.

"Interested?" you practically scream silently. "Interested? I’m dying here!"

"But just keep yourself at a low boil my little one," Master continues. "No coming permitted. Just keep yourself entertained for a few minutes while I attend to a few things. I’ll be with you in a flash."

In the deafening silence you feel the power of His presence though you are unsure whether He is even still in the room. You vow silently to do as you have been instructed, but the pleasure is so intense and the need for release so desperate you wonder how long you can simply carry yourself along without more. Much more.

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Posted 2 years ago
"Remove your panties and sit back in your position of kneeling presentation," I order.
You hastily stop rubbing your clit and move to comply, awkwardly struggling to pull the cotton underwear over your knees and off your legs while still in a kneeling position. But you manage and quickly reestablish your submissive position.
I almost smile to myself at the sight of your knees tightly clenched together and your hands clasped atop your legs. The frustration must be so intense. You rose so fast toward orgasm masturbating in front of me and were so very close to release when I stopped you. As you kneel before me, knees clamped and head downcast, you are quivering in unfulfilled need. This excites me. It always does. Denied orgasm is such a delicious dish for a Dom, yes I acknowledge that deep inside I am still a Dom. And even this morning, it makes me feel as powerful as ever. It is like an elixir for my ailment. Little by little, I begin to feel just a touch more like myself. And it feels good.
I decide to let you cool down just a little longer before moving on to something else that will bring you back up again. As you kneel before me shaking ever so slightly, I admit to myself that this is fun. This is the very sort of control over you that I get the most satisfaction out of. Not spanking or bondage but control exerted only by force of will. Will on both our parts. The will to command and the will to submit to those commands. This is the good stuff, and even with your relative lack of experience in this sort of thing, intuitively you seem to have known it. You served it up to me on a platter. And I am grateful to you for it.
We do belong together. Opposite sides of the same coin. We need each other to be whole. Before ordering you to something else, I say a silent prayer thanking whatever God is looking out for me for bringing you into my life. For the unbelievable gift that is you. For the unbelievable gift that you give me and for bringing me at least part way back to life.
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"Remove your panties and sit back in your position of kneeling presentation," I order.

You hastily stop rubbing your clit and move to comply, awkwardly struggling to pull the cotton underwear over your knees and off your legs while still in a kneeling position. But you manage and quickly reestablish your submissive position.

I almost smile to myself at the sight of your knees tightly clenched together and your hands clasped atop your legs. The frustration must be so intense. You rose so fast toward orgasm masturbating in front of me and were so very close to release when I stopped you. As you kneel before me, knees clamped and head downcast, you are quivering in unfulfilled need. This excites me. It always does. Denied orgasm is such a delicious dish for a Dom, yes I acknowledge that deep inside I am still a Dom. And even this morning, it makes me feel as powerful as ever. It is like an elixir for my ailment. Little by little, I begin to feel just a touch more like myself. And it feels good.

I decide to let you cool down just a little longer before moving on to something else that will bring you back up again. As you kneel before me shaking ever so slightly, I admit to myself that this is fun. This is the very sort of control over you that I get the most satisfaction out of. Not spanking or bondage but control exerted only by force of will. Will on both our parts. The will to command and the will to submit to those commands. This is the good stuff, and even with your relative lack of experience in this sort of thing, intuitively you seem to have known it. You served it up to me on a platter. And I am grateful to you for it.

We do belong together. Opposite sides of the same coin. We need each other to be whole. Before ordering you to something else, I say a silent prayer thanking whatever God is looking out for me for bringing you into my life. For the unbelievable gift that is you. For the unbelievable gift that you give me and for bringing me at least part way back to life.

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Posted 2 years ago
Biting my cheek, I take one last breath and do my best to sound even a little commanding. But my heart just isn’t in it.
"Go kneel on the bed and present to me as you are expected to when entering the presence of your Master," I try, not with a great deal of conviction.
Without a moment of hesitation you climb on the bed, face me at the window and kneel in your most submissive pose. For an instant I am nearly moved to tears. That you would do this for me after what I did to you yesterday is the most humbling thing I have ever experienced. I feel completely unworthy of you. I feel completely unworthy of this gift. And yet you have pressed me to treat this gift with the gratitude and respect it deserves.
I will try. For you my little one I would do anything.
For a time there is an uncomfortable silence and you wait obediently and patiently kneeling in nothing but your panties for word from me and I struggle to know what to do next. I don’t want to even approach the idea of service of any kind after our experience yesterday. And I sure don’t want to touch you in any way in a dominant fashion. That is the last thing on my mind. And yet you are waiting to be commanded. I feel so sheepish. So not like a Dom or Master.
I decide that the best thing I can do is give you permission to do something you might want to do anyway. Something that gives you pleasure. Something not so much for me but for you.
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Biting my cheek, I take one last breath and do my best to sound even a little commanding. But my heart just isn’t in it.

"Go kneel on the bed and present to me as you are expected to when entering the presence of your Master," I try, not with a great deal of conviction.

Without a moment of hesitation you climb on the bed, face me at the window and kneel in your most submissive pose. For an instant I am nearly moved to tears. That you would do this for me after what I did to you yesterday is the most humbling thing I have ever experienced. I feel completely unworthy of you. I feel completely unworthy of this gift. And yet you have pressed me to treat this gift with the gratitude and respect it deserves.

I will try. For you my little one I would do anything.

For a time there is an uncomfortable silence and you wait obediently and patiently kneeling in nothing but your panties for word from me and I struggle to know what to do next. I don’t want to even approach the idea of service of any kind after our experience yesterday. And I sure don’t want to touch you in any way in a dominant fashion. That is the last thing on my mind. And yet you are waiting to be commanded. I feel so sheepish. So not like a Dom or Master.

I decide that the best thing I can do is give you permission to do something you might want to do anyway. Something that gives you pleasure. Something not so much for me but for you.

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Posted 2 years ago
I leave you laying there, your back heaving as you catch your breath, surely grateful that the mild but persistent caning has ceased.
"Stay," I command without further elaboration.
I step back and stare down at you, obviously exhausted from the ordeal of spanking and caning, but perhaps more so from the emotional turmoil you have experienced in such a short time. Looking over at the clock on the nightstand I am shocked to see that it is not even noon yet. My God, what a long and harsh day it has been…and we are only beginning.
As you rest I consider how we got to this point today. My efforts at challenging your submissiveness with domestic service, your resistance and at times outright insolence. The recognition that perhaps you are not as submissive as you appear and in fact may only be submissive in the bedroom but not truly submissive of heart. My vow to challenge you and ferret out the depths of your submissiveness…or not, by deflating your ego and triggering your fight, flight or submit responses. That has been and continues to be my aim.
As you lay on the bed I decide it is time for a reality check, “This is not a way of life for a sub and her Dom. This is not something I want to do more than once. This is about us finding our limits so we can live by them going forward,” I explain calmly. “My hope is that we come out of this knowing who we really are and what we really want in our D/s relationship. Coming to know ourselves and then each other like no one else ever has in our lives. I want to know the depths and limits of my dominance and I want you to know the depths and limits of your submissiveness. This is a challenge. It is unpleasant. Distasteful even for me at times. But in my heart I feel it is necessary.”
You do not respond but for a slight twist of your head toward me that tells me you are listening. “I believe you are the one for me. The first one ever to come along and capture me heart, mind, body and spirit. I am the Dom but you as the sub have captured me. I want you to stay. I want us to work. But we must be compatible and to know that we must know ourselves. We are learning together and some lessons in life can be harsh. This is perhaps one of the harshest of all.”
"We are going to persevere through this trial but it is going to be hard and it is going to require soul searching by both of us" I continue. "How hard can I push? I don’t know yet. I don’t know what I am capable of. How much can you or will you take? Neither one of us knows that either. But there is no fear necessary here…only decisions to be made. Choices."
"We have our hard limits and those will be respected. You have your safe word and that as always will be respected. You are not a prisoner here and can go at any time. I hope you accept the challenge, persevere, and in the end choose to stay but I understand if you decide in the end that this is not for you." I conclude. "Shall we continue with the day?"
Slowly you nod your head, but I want to hear you say it. If we are going to press on I want your full concurrence. “Please answer me verbally.”
"Yes, I want to try."
"Good. I am glad."
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I leave you laying there, your back heaving as you catch your breath, surely grateful that the mild but persistent caning has ceased.

"Stay," I command without further elaboration.

I step back and stare down at you, obviously exhausted from the ordeal of spanking and caning, but perhaps more so from the emotional turmoil you have experienced in such a short time. Looking over at the clock on the nightstand I am shocked to see that it is not even noon yet. My God, what a long and harsh day it has been…and we are only beginning.

As you rest I consider how we got to this point today. My efforts at challenging your submissiveness with domestic service, your resistance and at times outright insolence. The recognition that perhaps you are not as submissive as you appear and in fact may only be submissive in the bedroom but not truly submissive of heart. My vow to challenge you and ferret out the depths of your submissiveness…or not, by deflating your ego and triggering your fight, flight or submit responses. That has been and continues to be my aim.

As you lay on the bed I decide it is time for a reality check, “This is not a way of life for a sub and her Dom. This is not something I want to do more than once. This is about us finding our limits so we can live by them going forward,” I explain calmly. “My hope is that we come out of this knowing who we really are and what we really want in our D/s relationship. Coming to know ourselves and then each other like no one else ever has in our lives. I want to know the depths and limits of my dominance and I want you to know the depths and limits of your submissiveness. This is a challenge. It is unpleasant. Distasteful even for me at times. But in my heart I feel it is necessary.”

You do not respond but for a slight twist of your head toward me that tells me you are listening. “I believe you are the one for me. The first one ever to come along and capture me heart, mind, body and spirit. I am the Dom but you as the sub have captured me. I want you to stay. I want us to work. But we must be compatible and to know that we must know ourselves. We are learning together and some lessons in life can be harsh. This is perhaps one of the harshest of all.”

"We are going to persevere through this trial but it is going to be hard and it is going to require soul searching by both of us" I continue. "How hard can I push? I don’t know yet. I don’t know what I am capable of. How much can you or will you take? Neither one of us knows that either. But there is no fear necessary here…only decisions to be made. Choices."

"We have our hard limits and those will be respected. You have your safe word and that as always will be respected. You are not a prisoner here and can go at any time. I hope you accept the challenge, persevere, and in the end choose to stay but I understand if you decide in the end that this is not for you." I conclude. "Shall we continue with the day?"

Slowly you nod your head, but I want to hear you say it. If we are going to press on I want your full concurrence. “Please answer me verbally.”

"Yes, I want to try."

"Good. I am glad."

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Posted 2 years ago
Slowly you begin to remove the beautiful maid uniform that you so admired and loved when you first put it on this morning, sniffing a little and occasionally wiping your eyes as you do. Clearly my words have stung you and my precious and beloved “little one” suddenly looks more like a little waif than the mature and enchanting woman that you are. Without the adoration and approval of you Master you look lost and terribly lonely.
God, I so want to wrap you in my arms and comfort you. I want to tell you everything will be alright and that I adore you, cherish you, love you with all my heart and being. And yet I cannot if I want our relationship to stand on a solid footing; if I want our relationship to have real permanence.
The success of a Dom rests almost entirely in his ability to empathize completely with his sub. He needs to be able to anticipate the needs, wants and desires of his little one and gains much of his own satisfaction through empathy with the experience he is providing for his sub. Being a Dom is not a matter of just “doing” things to another person. Far from it. Being a Dom is providing the experience for another person and living it through them. Far from being the distant and insensitive rock that is displayed on the exterior, any good and successful Dom is actually infinitely more sensitive than the average person. Empathy is at the core of his being and his experience as a Dom. We feel everything you do and more…because we not only feel it but are responsible for creating it. The responsibility is awesome, sometimes fearsome, and infinitely rewarding when successful.
You look so beautiful and desirable sitting there at the foot of the bed removing your stockings; the last vestige of your pretty uniform. I have to fight every natural and nurturing instinct in my being to continue the necessary fierce charade that I hope is both sufficiently powerful and believable to have the desired impact. For it is but a lie.
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Slowly you begin to remove the beautiful maid uniform that you so admired and loved when you first put it on this morning, sniffing a little and occasionally wiping your eyes as you do. Clearly my words have stung you and my precious and beloved “little one” suddenly looks more like a little waif than the mature and enchanting woman that you are. Without the adoration and approval of you Master you look lost and terribly lonely.

God, I so want to wrap you in my arms and comfort you. I want to tell you everything will be alright and that I adore you, cherish you, love you with all my heart and being. And yet I cannot if I want our relationship to stand on a solid footing; if I want our relationship to have real permanence.

The success of a Dom rests almost entirely in his ability to empathize completely with his sub. He needs to be able to anticipate the needs, wants and desires of his little one and gains much of his own satisfaction through empathy with the experience he is providing for his sub. Being a Dom is not a matter of just “doing” things to another person. Far from it. Being a Dom is providing the experience for another person and living it through them. Far from being the distant and insensitive rock that is displayed on the exterior, any good and successful Dom is actually infinitely more sensitive than the average person. Empathy is at the core of his being and his experience as a Dom. We feel everything you do and more…because we not only feel it but are responsible for creating it. The responsibility is awesome, sometimes fearsome, and infinitely rewarding when successful.

You look so beautiful and desirable sitting there at the foot of the bed removing your stockings; the last vestige of your pretty uniform. I have to fight every natural and nurturing instinct in my being to continue the necessary fierce charade that I hope is both sufficiently powerful and believable to have the desired impact. For it is but a lie.

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Posted 2 years ago
When you return to the bedroom with the crop you find that I have not moved from my place. Silently I point to the floor at my feet and you wordlessly drop to your knees clamping the crop between your teeth before properly presenting yourself to me with your hands behind your back. Secretly, your performance pleases me as you are acting completely submissively and following my past teachings and present instructions to the letter. On the other hand it makes what I have to do to puncture your ego that much more difficult. I am not enjoying this. This is not the fun part of being a Dom. I would much rather be engaging in sexy games, kinky role-play, or loving embraces than tearing down your psyche and deflating your ego. But this is for the good of both of us in the long run.
Steeling myself for the distasteful work ahead I begin. “Let go of the crop,” I command, grabbing the handle and snatching the hard leather instrument out of your mouth. “You have not earned the privilege to present this to me as my sub. You have not earned the privilege of  wearing that “French Maid” uniform. You have not earned the privilege of being my slave.”
As I continue the harsh dressing down your shoulders visibly slump and I can see the disappointment begin to show in the slight quiver of your lip and perhaps even a little moisture in the corner of your eye. I am clearly hurting you, the one I love, and it does not make me happy. But I press on.
"If you want to serve me you need to do so cheerfully, politely, respectfully and competently." I lecture. "You have not displayed any of these traits today and I am deeply disappointed. You seem only concerned with yourself and what you want. You are inattentive to your work and lost in the thoughts of your wants and desires. In your present state you are not worthy of my energy and attention as a Dom. You have not earned it and are showing few signs of desiring it."
With this tirade your head slumps down and you genuinely look utterly dejected.
"Take off that uniform right now, you are not worthy of it," I order, slapping my leg with the riding crop for emphasis. "If you want to be my sub, you are going to have to think more like a slave than the princess I have apparently inadvisedly built you up to be in your own mind. Get out of that uniform, NOW! You shall not wear it again unless and until you earn it."
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When you return to the bedroom with the crop you find that I have not moved from my place. Silently I point to the floor at my feet and you wordlessly drop to your knees clamping the crop between your teeth before properly presenting yourself to me with your hands behind your back. Secretly, your performance pleases me as you are acting completely submissively and following my past teachings and present instructions to the letter. On the other hand it makes what I have to do to puncture your ego that much more difficult. I am not enjoying this. This is not the fun part of being a Dom. I would much rather be engaging in sexy games, kinky role-play, or loving embraces than tearing down your psyche and deflating your ego. But this is for the good of both of us in the long run.

Steeling myself for the distasteful work ahead I begin. “Let go of the crop,” I command, grabbing the handle and snatching the hard leather instrument out of your mouth. “You have not earned the privilege to present this to me as my sub. You have not earned the privilege of  wearing that “French Maid” uniform. You have not earned the privilege of being my slave.”

As I continue the harsh dressing down your shoulders visibly slump and I can see the disappointment begin to show in the slight quiver of your lip and perhaps even a little moisture in the corner of your eye. I am clearly hurting you, the one I love, and it does not make me happy. But I press on.

"If you want to serve me you need to do so cheerfully, politely, respectfully and competently." I lecture. "You have not displayed any of these traits today and I am deeply disappointed. You seem only concerned with yourself and what you want. You are inattentive to your work and lost in the thoughts of your wants and desires. In your present state you are not worthy of my energy and attention as a Dom. You have not earned it and are showing few signs of desiring it."

With this tirade your head slumps down and you genuinely look utterly dejected.

"Take off that uniform right now, you are not worthy of it," I order, slapping my leg with the riding crop for emphasis. "If you want to be my sub, you are going to have to think more like a slave than the princess I have apparently inadvisedly built you up to be in your own mind. Get out of that uniform, NOW! You shall not wear it again unless and until you earn it."

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Posted 2 years ago
As you return to the bedroom with the coffee I instruct you from behind the newspaper to set in carefully on the bed beside me. That is my only acknowledgement of you as I continue reading.
Without looking at you I can tell you are a little agitated and restless as you kneel beside the bed unsure of what to do next. As you shift your weight back and forth trying to get comfortable and issue forth and occasional sign or huffing breath I eventually lower the paper and address you.
"My pet, what have I told you about the position I expect you to be in when you enter a room with no specific purpose or message for me?" I query. "Are you not supposed to kneel with your head down and your eyes up?"
"Yes Sir, I was just unsure what you wanted to me to do next," you respond.
"Nothing until I tell you. Period," a little agitation creeping into my voice. I remind myself mentally to keep that in check or this will go sour very quickly. More gently, "Your instructions are to remain in a position of repose until addressed and directed by me. Since that eluded you this morning I think you need a firmer reminder of our protocol."
"Crouch on your feet and give me your hands," I command firmly but without any harshness in my voice. As you comply, I wrap a length of cord around your wrists and bind them to the bedpost.
"There now. Crouching is a whole lot more uncomfortable than kneeling and you will soon begin to feel the burn in your thighs and discomfort in your ankles and feet," I lecture. "This is a simple lesson in obedience and following protocol and ritual my pet. My way is always the better way and is usually designed with your best interest in mind. Kneeling patiently is better than squatting any day. Let the burn in your legs remind you that serving your Master as he desires is generally your best path forward and affords you the greatest comfort and predictability. Now wait patiently in that position until I give you direction."
Without further comment I go back to reading the paper knowing full well that shortly you are going to be suffering…hopefully this time in silence.
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As you return to the bedroom with the coffee I instruct you from behind the newspaper to set in carefully on the bed beside me. That is my only acknowledgement of you as I continue reading.

Without looking at you I can tell you are a little agitated and restless as you kneel beside the bed unsure of what to do next. As you shift your weight back and forth trying to get comfortable and issue forth and occasional sign or huffing breath I eventually lower the paper and address you.

"My pet, what have I told you about the position I expect you to be in when you enter a room with no specific purpose or message for me?" I query. "Are you not supposed to kneel with your head down and your eyes up?"

"Yes Sir, I was just unsure what you wanted to me to do next," you respond.

"Nothing until I tell you. Period," a little agitation creeping into my voice. I remind myself mentally to keep that in check or this will go sour very quickly. More gently, "Your instructions are to remain in a position of repose until addressed and directed by me. Since that eluded you this morning I think you need a firmer reminder of our protocol."

"Crouch on your feet and give me your hands," I command firmly but without any harshness in my voice. As you comply, I wrap a length of cord around your wrists and bind them to the bedpost.

"There now. Crouching is a whole lot more uncomfortable than kneeling and you will soon begin to feel the burn in your thighs and discomfort in your ankles and feet," I lecture. "This is a simple lesson in obedience and following protocol and ritual my pet. My way is always the better way and is usually designed with your best interest in mind. Kneeling patiently is better than squatting any day. Let the burn in your legs remind you that serving your Master as he desires is generally your best path forward and affords you the greatest comfort and predictability. Now wait patiently in that position until I give you direction."

Without further comment I go back to reading the paper knowing full well that shortly you are going to be suffering…hopefully this time in silence.

Caption © For the Love of A Submissive, 2012

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