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Bringing me home…

July 23, 2010

“Do you want some rope or something?” he asked as we stood in the main room of the dungeon. I had come home from the weekend at Thunder an emotional mess. When I walked though the door, I had set down my suitcases and promptly ran to his feet and cried in his lap for what seemed like too long. He hadn ‘t wanted me in that headspace for the party that night,however. So he had set me on task to get dressed for his pleasure that night and I had just finished getting ready.

Looking up into his eyes I shook my head, “No.”

“What is it that you want?”

“I need to hurt,” I said with a heavy sigh. I’ve never been one to ask for what I need in the moment. Those 4 words were so very difficult to say.

“How severe are we wanting, dear?”

All I could do to respond was nod.

“That bad huh,” he asked with a heavy tone in his voice. He thought a moment, “go find my SAP gloves.”

Our scenes rarely begin with him having me assume any sort of position. Rather, most begin with force. He takes me, because I’m His, and he does as he pleases. Tonight, this is exactly what I need to feel centered, to feel the stillness in my heart so easily supplied by his dominance. I had missed his home and my place in it so much while I was at Thunder. In my mind, I wanted him to bring me back home and never let me leave…

Hand buried deep in the base of my hair, I am dragged out into the center of the room. I don’t think I can recollect in detail what followed. It was a blur of raw emotion and brute force. He punched me, and restrained me and when I fought back and squirmed away, he picked me up and tossed me right back to where he had wanted me. Scenes like that between us always feel like a conversation.

This time I’m telling him, “I hurt, and I’m scared and I want to run away, to not feel the pain of loving you and no longer fight myself to be worth loving you.”

His physical response, restraining me from all my fighting back, telling me, “No. If you hurt, it will be because I hit you, if you are scared it will be because I have inspired terror. You are not going anywhere until I say you are because that love you feel is Mine.”

One last push down onto the floor. I’m pinned on my back with him straddling my waist. As he delivers a few final blows to my hips, I feel all the fear and anxiety and loneliness leave. I can breathe again. I reach up and wrap my hands around his chest and he knows I am finished. He leans down and holds me, occasionally moving his hand to pet my hair. As we lay there on the floor, everything kind of fades away…

When we get up he pulls me to my knees and pushes me to the other side of the rug. I sit on my knees facing him, feeling more in any sort of submissive position that I think I’ve ever shown to him. A quick tap on his right leg, meant to be seen by no one but me, and I am crawling to him. On my knees at his feet, I wrap my arms around his leg and kiss him. I run my hands down to his boots, caressing and kissing them. When I feel his hand on my hair, I look up and he is looking down at me with such a sense of pride that makes me smile.

“Thank you for bringing me home, Mr. Rawr”

5 Comments leave one →
  1. July 23, 2010 12:23 pm

    I’m so glad you got what you needed, and were able to reconnect 🙂

  2. July 23, 2010 2:13 pm

    This made me smile. Like Essen’ Em, I’m glad you got what you needed. 😀

  3. July 23, 2010 7:57 pm

    wow, that sounds like a fantastic evening. the way you express your experience is so raw yet so analyzed. i don’t envy the feelings you had going into your time with mr. rawr but i certainly envy the fun, albeit emotionally draining, weekend you had and the “conversation” with your mr. that catalyzed the sorting-it-all-out process for you. : )

  4. voyeurondisplay permalink*
    July 27, 2010 8:53 am

    Thanks everyone 🙂


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