New Life, Same blog.

I'm sat kneeling on the mattress on the floor. We're alone in one of the private playrooms at the club. 
I'm wearing my new collar and cuffs with so much pride. She sits down on a chair, looking down on me. I keep reminding myself not to caress her or stroke her legs. I'm her submissive now. The heavy clinking of the cuffs remind me, so most of the time I manage to keep my hands behind my back. I once forget, though, and she needs only make a sound, or look at me, to remind me. She's in charge. I want her to be. I like the control she's radiating. 

She orders me to take my top off, and my bra. Next she produces a clothespin. She puts it on my nipple. Then the other nipple. Then another pin on the first, and another pin on the second. She knows my reactions to it by now. And I love the natural way this happens. We've come past the stage where we test this and that to see how we both react. Now it's not playing with things anymore. The things have become more like means to an end. They're tools. 

Like I'm a tool. Or more like clay in her hands. She pinches my nipples; I moan. She grabs my chin; I seek her eyes, giving her my attention. She holds my throat; I gasp. But when she puts on one of our most recent purchases: the ring gag, my breath becomes more shallow. I can feel my pupils expand. And all of a sudden I feel a deep sense of gratitude towards her. I feel so lucky, to have her toying with me, shaping me into submission, accepting me sitting there like a helpless little fool. I didn't think of myself as 'little fool'... It's just so damn hard putting into words. I must look so ridiculous looking up at her, unable to close my mouth. And when she put a finger into my mouth I moan or something. I can't help myself. 

I have always been very independent. I am used to doing stuff alone. And relying on other people for my comfort, or filling my needs hasn't really been more than volatile luxuries. As I sit here on the floor I don't feel she is filling my needs momentarily. I feel she meets them on a whole other level. I have someone I can be vulnerable to. Someone who can see me as a 'topless little fool with her gaping mouth dry, yet full of saliva', and STILL like me. And she looks at me like I'm the prize, whereas I feel I'm the winner. 

I feel so incredible close to her. She toys with my nipples for a while, and we do a few other things as well. But when I'm curled up in her lap trying to descend, it's not pain I'm descending from, or horniness. It's an intimacy like I've never experienced. I had been able to, both physically and figuratively, to show her my affection for her. At least I hope she saw that in my eyes. I'm hers. So very hers. And so very grateful that she wants me to be hers. And that she wants to be mine. Mine to submit to, to give my all to.