Mistress...

There are few people I know that love that word as much as I do. It sends chills down my spine and heat to my groin. One of the people who love it as I do is, infact, MY Mistress. You know Her on blogspot as Mistress McKenna. I have started my own blog at Her command. So here I am, at 3 a.m., with a terrible pain in my neck and another double shift to work tomorrow but I will not get some thing to eat and go to sleep until I have posted to an effect I hope my Mistress will find satisfactory. There is very little I wouldn't do for her. It's important to me that I express that I am not some random desperate sub that MistressMcKenna took a liking to in some fetish club. She was and is my best friend. No one could have anticipated how our relationship has progressed. I couldn't have hoped that this beautiful and disarmingly charming young woman would fulfill me in ways I couldn't dream of. I could not conjure a more capable, beautiful, or creative Mistress from my own imagination. I love her in ways you read in romance novels. I love her ways that what you are young and awkward and scorned you feel don't exist, or at any rate, could never happen to you. Our relationship isn't just sexual or merely a mindblowingly fantastic scene that doesn't end (although it is)... I want to marry this girl. I want to have children with her. I want the American dream that I scoffed at in high school. I want a secure career and at least four kids, and I want these things with Her... or I don't want them at all. My Mistress and I are 'lifestylers', but we slide in and out of scening naturally. She has rapidly claimed my heart my thoughts my attention my submission. I love her and submit to her will, but I do not 'worship' her. That is an unnecissary exageration and blatant blasphemy. Now that all of that has been expressed, lets move on to our most recent scenes... this is a bdsm blog afterall...

This weekend...

I was in very VERY big trouble... and I knew it. I had spent the past week or so away from my Mistress, on vacation with friends. It was a vanilla setting to the extreme, so not only did I miss Her because I love her... I ached with the unsatisfied urge to submit. I needed Her to Dominate me. To control me. To abuse me. The scenes I fantasized about became increasingly harsh. As my desire grew and more time passed without any release I became increasingly desperate... desperation made me stupid. When I text messaged my Mistress or spoke with her on the phone I used every opportunity to be disrespectful. I challeneged her authority; said things I wouldn't have dared to utter if we had been in the same room. She became more and more angry but I all but ignored her warnings. I was pushing her, I knew full well how disrespectful I was being, but I kept on pushing practicaly praying that she would snap and correct me, punish me, put me in my place (under her heel). Eventually I realized that what I was doing was deplorable and no way to get the attention I craved. I was so ashamed of myself I probably called and text messaged a half dozen desperate apologies. Punishment wasnt even on my mind, I was apologizing out of flat out disgust for myself for treating my Mistress that way. She forgave me momentarily, I assume because I was coming home and we were both so eager to see eachother. After an eight hour car ride I ran in my house to tell my family I was leaving immediately for my Mistresses house. In my haste I made a completely inexcusable mistake... I left my collar at home, and I couldn't find my cuffs. I may as well have put on a sign that read 'Hello my name is dorian and I am an insolent disrepectful slave who comes to his Mistress unprepared'. My Mistress is more merciful than I deserve and after speding around 14 hours in the car that day she let me get some much needed sleep. But the next day the punishment came fast and hard in the worst way. She tied me with cord by my wrists to a beam in her bedroom. The rope bit into my skin in a way that had me longing for my soft leather cuffs. She fastened on my bit gag and then blindfolded me... the blindfold read 'CUNT'. She then proceeded to beat me with a riding crop until my knees were weak, reminding me with each stroke that it was my disrepsect that put me in that position. The second part of the punishment was going much the same until she forced me to my knees and struck my shoulder with what I later found out was my black leather leash. It is terribly heavy, and the pain was so great I would have sworn in was a belt. Every time she hit me I had to say 'I will not forget my collar', and later 'I will not forget my cuffs'. By the end of the session I was sobbing, shaking, more than likely incoherent. But my punishment was over and my Mistress held me and stroked my hair and whispered that I was a good boy... all of the things I need after both sex and scening. We had a lot more scenes the rest of the weekend, including another encounter with the leash (which brought me to tears yet again), and wax play. But my favorite that stands out from the weekend was a drowning scene (which I love). The feeling of my Mistress' hand forcing my head under the water while she fucked me was indescribable. The angle proved dificult and she pulled me out of the water and layed me on my stomach. I was freezing and drenched, lying in a pool of water and my own saliva, and she fucked me right there on the floor of the bathroom like a common whore. Extacy.

So after a long weekend of abuse, painful positions, and absurdly long car rides, I returned to my vanilla job this morning... and worked a double. My body is pratically screaming in protest, and all I want to do is sleep for two or three days. But I wouldn't have changed a thing about this weekend. I'll hold onto it as I clean counters, restock napkins, deal with middle aged women and their endless complaints about the untidy bathrooms. I'll hold onto it until I'm in my Mistress' arms again. I love you my Lady.