D/s Consciously Submissive

Allow me to share with you a bit of who I am...

My face glows and I am utterly still. Unreservedly devoid of clothing, save the truly artless expression on my face, which forges a service inexplicably unobtrusive and efficient - utterly sacred, fraught with the delicate grace that is my signature. Unlike other women, submission is not my shield. I wear submission not as a badge, nor is it an unattainable goal.

For this one, it is the manner in which she interprets, feels, and exists within the constraints of this life. In so doing, she is freed from the human trappings, the complete abdication of selfhood. Within her scope of reality, being supremely useful was born as the cornerstone of self. To demonstrate affection, caring, appreciation, adoration and love, she lent herself to the dance of Slave.

You asked once, the difference between submissive and slave. Does this illustrate it? I’ve seen women describe themselves as very submissive or very poly. How can one quantify an absolute such as this? There are degrees of submission, and for them? It works. As a slave with so many years experience, I have danced to and with and for the rhythms that catered to the most intense of desires, the absolute debasement of self, the most decadent aspects of love.

Through each of these “furnace of afflictions,” the heat, time, and intense pressure combined with the natural elements I possess. The same way diamonds are formed, the elements of slavery combined within me to bestow a great gift: A firm grasp of what and who I am.

I am no less, no more, than any other human on this planet, yet I feel “completely out of keeping with this specified epoch in which I find myself.” After dancing here, so long, the music commands my body, its fluidity, the bending, arching, stretching reaching, not just with body, but with will and spirit searching for the One True Song that I hear inside me. I anticipate my libidinous voice rising and his answering mine, with the counter tune I was born to search for. His voice and will have hundreds of hands that will escort me to the places that only he can envision.

Freeing me within the bonds of slavery, I exist in every single nuance of sensation: pleasure, pain, they have no individual meaning: the true pleasure comes from the degree to which I can feel them. Truly feel them! And the further I can open myself, the more RAW I am, the more sensitive my flesh and spirit will be. More than lust and passion and love, this is pure sensation: The Dominant Force.

As delicate as rose petals fall into the creek, they will be sodden by the sensation of the water, with no control and are destined to be lost, overwhelmed.

The rocks, against which the raging dominant waters splash and with constant erosion, they are formed, still, the rock is not making a conscious decision to be molded, thus, the water must work harder to mold it.

I am the life within the splashing, raging and calm clear waters: I swim, my own momentum and knowledge of the rivers and streams that lead me here, aiding me, pushing me further. The Dominant Force of the water seeking only to push me further, each of us with our own journey and intent, but with the similar destination in mind.

I am consciously submissive.

Your body, so sweet and strong, so firm yet yielding to my slightest touch, the taste of your flesh between my lips, unique, sweet and perfect. Each moment cascades upon the next, slowly as molten honey. Glistening between the seconds that elongate into pinnacles of pure pleasure. I held back.

Closing my eyes, I can sense you with all of me; every cell attuned to the subtle nuances of human existence. Your body not foreign to mine, but well matched, so perfectly fitted together. We move together, not to attain a level of physical pleasure, but both of us moving together towards the inexorable pleasure of existing within one another's arms, both of us moving higher, climbing towards even further understanding of the language we speak not with our bodies, but without them. The music's hand at my back, urging me forward, undulating beneath you, the look on your face while you enter me initially, the clouded passion gone, now I see the intensity you hold for sharing time with me. But I still held back.

Every moment builds upon the last. A tower, high, illuminated from within rising beneath our bodies. We exist outside of the boxes, truly feeling one another. That is what it feels like when you are inside me. Still, I held myself back!

Being lifted outside of everything. Nothing matters accept the look in your yes, the feel or your hands, the touch of your body, high in my inner thighs, the warmth where our bodies meet.Oh God, yes!! Yes!! YES!!

You held my hands by my wrists on either side of my face and moved against me, urging me to feel you more and transformed me into a ravenous thing, wide open mouth, willing all of you to erupt inside of me.

I stopped holding back.

We were in the car, his profile lit from beside him by the setting sun, which had lent him the appearance of an angel.

He is my friend. He is Dominant.

His voice awakened me from deep slumber, the warmth, timbre and persuasive tone inspired me to move gracefully from my perch, stepping lightly into the three inch heels he preferred, donned my long white heavy satin robe that slid against my skin, so cool, yet quickly warmed by my flesh, and I stepped down into the thickly carpeted pine scented room. So masculine here, so wooden and brass, simply a self made man.

My heels clicked across the hardwood floors until the end of the hall beckoned my eye. The normally locked room at the end of the hall yawned open. My eyes saw how that room, crimson walls, richly covered with gold and red silk brocade wall covering, black tools, back lit on glass shelves and black shiny hooks.

The chains hung ominously like gothic clouds over various tables, chairs, and planks of wood. His hand touched my shoulder lightly and I descended to my knees.

He was behind me and slid the heavy silk from my shoulders, bare, I shivered from the coolness in the room. My nipples hardened quickly and he captured them smartly and I rose to follow his tugging. My heels made clickety clack click click clicks to keep up with his insistent fingers. He enjoyed when I teetered on my heels and he smiled. He'd never let me fall.

"Come here, Elizabeth."

I was upright, with a flexible cross at my back, my arms and legs soon fastened, my neck and waist restrained to the permanently attached collar and cuffs. There was a brief moment of fear as I felt the entire contraption move position.

"It is designed to make you feel vulnerable. Go with it."

He smiled and controlled the pull of the gravity on my body. He positioned me like a long naked dinner table and my lust was on the menu. He began the questions. I got one right, his mouth breathed passion into my soul, dripping his energy into me, one milliliter at a time. I got a question wrong, the flogger tasted my flesh. My passion and lust rose with the difficulty of the questions, further beckoning me into the abyss that I longed to dive into.

Every neuron tuned into what I was permitted to finally ask of him.

He allowed me what I wish, provided I hid no sensation from him. I was to keep my eyes open and look into his while my wish was carried out.

He began with the suede flogger, he softly caressed me, waking me again, trailing the tails over my skin. THWACK THWACK! and amazement washed through me. My eyes were on his, open, barring as little as possible from him. THWACK THWACK THWACK! I flinched as those were harder, and I closed my eyes. His hand in my hair, mouth inches from mine,

"Elizabeth, open your eyes. Keep nothing from me."

His voice menaced my conscious brain and I apologized. He raised his arm again, 5 more in succession and my eyes opened, the pleasure intensified, the pain merely the vehicle.

"OH God! I feel it.. I feel you!"

Then there were 12 More.

"Oh please god yes! yes YES!"

I grunted and growled with the further delights painted across my body. He positioned me upside down, side ways, cross ways, finally again my body stinging red from the gradually heavy floggers he employed, my body was sunburned-like, I felt the heat radiating from me, the fine beads of sweat on both of us.

He positioned me thus and spread the legs wider. I was then tilted upwards. My breasts, heavy and full and so dear god, tender, over flow his hands. His mouth tasted each nipple and bit it in turn. The hard sucking and tight pinch of sensation inspired my pussy to weep with need. His fingers slid into me and his mouth again taste me.. this time between my breasts, I felt him breathe into me. Almost as if his energy is palpably being poured into me. A tangible thing I feel penetrating me. His cock was inside me, before I realized it, he was moving inside me, taking my desire by the reins, teaching my horses to gallop. He had taken me for one night, because I asked him to.

He had taken me into his dungeon because he is skilled and trustworthy.

He carried me to the guest bedroom and sponge-rinsed me off and put me to bed because he is my friend.

My Lover Gave me to a Stranger

I should have known the first time he coerced my legs open and masturbated my clit until I came, while the exorbitantly-tipped waitstaff of the restaurant remained oblivious to his libidinous activities amid the smells and sounds of upscale dining. After I came, he told me to sit with my legs open wide during the remainder of the entire meal. Our table faced near a wall, where a single male diner witnessed the debauchery of my lover. As the gentleman stood up to pay for his meal, my lover told me, "Go over to him, hug him and press your breasts against him firmly. Walk outside and get into the coach waiting. Say nothing. Do as I say."

My heart in my eyes for him, I obeyed. The man's startled expression soon turned to appreciation for my 34DDD breasts pressed against his body, his hands pressing my waist to his length, and his erection into my pelvic bone. I met his gaze briefly, smiled shyly and looked away. I walked slowly to the door, felt his heat still clinging to my body, a souvenir from his hungry hold on me.

There was a maroon and white trimmed coach with 2 white horses at the ready as he said there would be. The door was opened by a liveried gentleman whose blank expression did little to assuage my misgivings. My new lover was indeed spontaneous, passionate and quite lavishly spoiling me, I thought to myself, sinking back into the almost flesh like soft leather seats. The seat almost reached up around me. I noticed lovely brass fittings and fixtures, reminiscent of gas lights and baroque style accents, almost like antique door knockers hung symmetrically along either side of the carriage. The perfume of the fresh cut flowers in the crystal vases in the back window of the carriage intoxicated my senses. The spicy scent of the horse lent the evening an even more primal tinge.

All my senses over-stimulated, I absorbed further details of the lovely carriage. The floor was upholstered in a very thick padding, like tufted cushions, also of the soft leathery material. Everything was maroon and white and gold. I closed my eyes and basked in the richness of the sumptuous depths of the leather.

The carriage rocked when I felt his familiar aura call to me; he climbed up; the door knockers jangled and jingled across the top with the voices of chimes. I sat up in the center back seat where apprehension sat upon my mind lightly before, was now lounging upon my senses rather voluptuously. His familiar fingers motioned the man into the seat at the left window, my lover took possession of the right. The stranger looked at me and his eyes disintegrated my clothing; his body heat radiated to fill the night air of the carriage. I looked over at my lover and his affection sang to my spirit. He knocked and the carriage began to rock, the chorus of the chimes, sparkling along our path. The horse was drawing the carriage into the night, and my destiny, encased so lovingly within the opulence, was a passive passenger.

"Griffin, I tell you, her breasts are perfect. Her nipples look like small roses on pale snow."

He smiled to me and motioned to my top and motioned downwards. I was shocked and scared and in fully in love with his expressive features. Trembling, I stared into his deep dark black eyes and saw the reflection of my fingers baring my white breasts to this stranger's lust. His melodious voice spoke to the man but his eyes mastered mine; I couldn't look away. I felt the man staring at my breasts and he swallowed loudly repeatedly and his breathing became louder and raspier.

"Griff, do you want to touch her breasts? Hold them in your hands; taste them with your tongue?"

"How old is she, Malcolm?"

"She's 23. I have her driver's license right here." He flipped my pink rosebud bag open and fished out my license. He nodded to me and smiled drily.

"She looks 15, except for those huge tits," his hungry voice sounded wet; this stranger's voice sliced the air.

"You want her, Griff." His voice slow, akin to a panther stalking his prey, yet, pointedly staring at me. He kept his eyes on mine, I could not look away. Not when I felt the warm foreign body kneeling in front of me. Not when the cuffs were slipped onto my wrists and slid up via a chain into those door knockers and locked securely. He yanked the chains holding me while he licked his wet lips and I could feel him already spurting his wetness inside me. My lover's vision concentrated on mine and when my arms were stretched out and my breasts bared and my body defenseless, his wicked intent painted his features with a brutal brush, completely exotic.

I felt my dress slide up my thighs and a hot mouth licking my pussy lips. His hands squeezed my breasts and twisted them as if I were inhuman. His fingers found my nipples while my clit was being sucked voraciously. He spoke to my pussy, not to me. With depraved words, he colored the night air with filthy motivations and despicable acts upon my body and spirit. His cock was long and slender, his balls were very big and slapped my bottom cheeks every time he pushed into me. Harder and harder he penetrated me as the horse's hooves and the jangling door knockers and chains penetrated my consciousness. I was more aware of the sounds of the carriage and our progress through the city, rather than the acts his lust visited upon me.

My lover stared at my body, jostling, bouncing under the strangers thrusting motions. Each time he battered me to the hilt, my lover would wince and smile and he watched the man turn me over, spread my lips and fuck me on my knees harder and harder, biting my shoulder and pulling my hair. Calling me filthy names and fucking me and pawing at my breasts, leaving red marks and the echoes of bruises to be borne tomorrow. His hand covered my mouth for the most brutal moments of the journey and these moments, I saw the my lover glowing, which lent a level of pleasure to my debasement.

He filled his condom and half collapsed on me. The carriage stopped and the man and my lover spoke outside briefly and my lover returned to the carriage as we rode into the night.

"I loved this. Seeing your face as he was fucking you. I told him to be brutal with you and to make you feel his cock with all his power. I saw you feel it. When I looked at you being fucked, I loved you more and more." His words and syllables cushioned the blow of the evening's events and his fingers caressed and soothed the soreness of my mauled body. As soon as my clothes were in order, he opened the carriage and I saw we were nearing my home.

He walked me to my front door and gave me a visa gift card. "This is for 1000 dollars. I want you to enjoy this money and spend it on yourself. I am out of town until Friday, or I'd spoil you myself. Be ready at 8 and bring shoes, and shoes only, for the weekend." He hugged and kissed me and led me through my front door. His mouth lingered on mine and he pressed me over to my ottoman, lifted my dress and saw my pussy. He kissed it carefully and then mounted me and fucked me slowly and sucked my breasts the way I loved him to.

"I loved watching you, baby. I can still see him fucking my baby. Oh yeah... baby you looked so hot. Yeah... open your mouth like that... yeah...."

His touches turned more brutal and he fucked me twice as hard as that desperate old man did and when he came he screamed my name and pushed inside me hard enough to cramp my cervix. I screamed out and he sucked my nipple and slid his finger between us and fingered my clit for 30 seconds with the cum that was cumming out of my cunt.

"She likes to cum, doesn't she? I love your face when you cum, do it, baby, cum for me...."

To be Continued....

As I listened to the music of desire, the picture painted was of green grass, sun sparkling through the canopy, bespeckling the grass around me. Laying on a blanket, my hands pillowed under my head, the joy of the air on my body, spilled over me. A slow smile spread across my face as the shadow crossed me. My eyes closed in complete trust.
The shadow became human and made his home next to me. Reclining beside me, his warmth and gentleness permeated the air, stirring currents in my desire, as only thoughts of you do. The shadow and I lay together for moments of joy and silence, communicated with the palpable energy that causes my mind, body, and spirit to act as one: an Instrument of Sensation.

I feel the shadow behind my closed eyes, I cannot see him, lean up and his eyes are on my face. "Aries.." fingers caress my face, painting intentions upon it. My eyes remain shuttered to the smile and twinkle in his eyes.... "Aries, open your eyes... look at me...", fingers across my lips, the wind of his breath stirs my hair.
~~~~~
The shivers of desires run amok across her skin, her nipples peak painfully. With childish abandon, her eyes still closed, she reaches up and pulls his head close to her mouth.... Lips, tongues and moist heat convey what words cannot. The buttons on her blouse are loosed by curious fingers of his hand. Still tantalizing her mouth with his tongue, another button gone... until the stiffened lace is beneath his gaze and the slopes of flesh call his senses from within. Skating across the peaks of her breasts, his hands snuggle into the lace cup... her breast warm and her nipple erect against his palm... he squeezes softly and darts his tongue quick around her mouth.. then.. slowly.. he kneads the flesh and tastes her mouth at his leisure....

All the time in the world....

I feel you now upon the air
Your strong fingers in my hair
The energy flowing that we will share
The vortex so strong, beyond compare.

Touching and tasting me at first, so slow
Every curve of my flesh, crook of elbow
Tantalizing the angels with the erotic show
Your lips on mine now, here we go!

My back to your chest we sit this way
Your hands on my neck, body on display
The window's open and the curtains sway
You slide your cock in all of the way....

I rise up slowly with your mouth now on mine
I insinuate pussy to cock, juices do shine
Your hands on my breasts, so pale and so fine
You touch me so perfectly, heavenly and divine.

My lips are wide open your hand lowers to them
You find my clitoris and find your rhythm
Up and down our bodies dance as petal to stem
As I type this my thighs are now bare of skirt's hem.

Sensual Garden

Where does beauty lay in the skin or in the eye?
Where its true value invested, in the earth or in the sky?
Opening and tasting every whisper of every song
Walking, running, screaming when you're weak or when you're strong?

Find yourself wandering in the halls of my mind....... (rhyme ends here.. )

We know, that pleasure for me is an intoxication. I become a ravenous thing for it, gobbling up sensations as if they were candy, shining, glistening, ready to be plucked. The things that inspire that are legion - not a single thing, nor a million – the amalgam of sensory experience.

It is the stream of energy communicated from one to another... the waves that pull and push... that direct passion.. the touches.. soft whispered touches that grace your skin with fire and grace the dark with midnight voices.

It is the ebb and flow between you and your lover... not trying so hard... to force feed orgasms and pleasure. As so many people do, just in this city alone, pay 200 dollars for a massage... to feel the pleasure of another person touching their skin... releasing what was pent up inside... the bars of the cage? Limitors of Passion.

He drops breadcrumbs for me to follow, rather than force feeding me his idea of expressive sexuality. He makes me work for it, expose more of myself to him, strip myself of my inhibitions and preconceived notions and once that veneer has been peeled away... I can slither myself away from it... where the pleasure is pure.

Rarely, the women, with whom I am acquainted, rarely know what pleases them. They have been confined by Limitors of Passion.

Women have never been given license to practice feeling it; explore it.

IF women were aware that they were endowed not only with the ability to create life, but to be able to feel more sensations.. more than men are capable of...if they knew... how when we are strong women, and allowed to be the passionate creatures we are, the sheer pleasure of even mundane things is magnified and intensified for women.

Men... if they knew this.. if they understood this.. being the Manly Man.. the Rogues... the Heroes ... if they knew what women were able to feel... would they continue to limit us...

Women... today... I am going to write a blog entitled eating an apple.... read this with me.. taste my words.. feel the honey and dew drops dripping from my words.. let them fall onto you.. infiltrate and melt through the armor that you've been shackled with.

You may not feel how I feel when I feel it.. but if you take the walk with me.. just for a moment.. the journey will open appreciation for the simple things in your life.. and you will see... just how much you have been limited..

you will see the bars of your cage..

Flutter your tiny hearts in his hand
Whisper your love quietly
Run away from the orgasms that you've NEVER been taught how to feel...

or

walk with me in my Garden of Sensations. I will offer you truth and passion...

you take from the garden my rose tinted glass... and see your life experiences through them...

awakening to self... you are worth it.

Within sensation the sparks ignite
passion howls throughout the night
fears of submission run, take flight
It burns within me, This Submissive Light.

No longer happy with half spoonfuls of life
Daughter, friend, lover, cousin, Sister and Wife
Investing my Self into all that I love
Brings joy and desire gifted from heaven above.

He brings me to ecstasy, lays my past to its knees
Gives my heart pleasure; my soul, he does ease
Forever, my Lord, my Viking, LR
I feel your hands on my face, where ever you are.

Not with anguish and whips does he bring me this joy!
Treats me as his treasure, not a little blonde toy
His kindness is legion and his knowledge so rare
His mouth meeting mine and his fist in my hair.

Symphony in her Soul

It's more than pleasure that you crave
When night time falls and your passions rave
The moon and stars reflect their light
You sing your song to the listening night.

When your face is pressed against the glass
The scent of the roses just will not pass
Throw open the window and scream your desire
Let nothing imprison or Limit your Fire!

Reach out your hand and touch your life
Fill your hand with joy, release the strife
Reach deep inside where your heart still beats
Where hope breeds love, despair only defeats.

The sensations await you, so decadent are they
When your mind, body and spirit begin to sway
Hear my music as it pounds the night
Lift your howl to the moon, release the fight!

You've been imprisoned so long, that freedom, so rare
But now your desires will perfume the air.
Dance with me, sing with me, feel what I dare
Naked in the moonlight, decadence's lair.

The music begins as her hips start to sway
Her hair down her back, so natural this way
Her arms poised above her, offering her body to his gaze
His eyes devour her wholely, she dances in the haze.

His arm reaches out and beckons her to his side
Her body obeys quite willingly, nothing whatever to hide
In his arms the night is warm, his breath stirs against her skin
He envelopes more than her body, when she is next to him.

He taught her how to feel and enjoy sensation, too
She was tricked by all the others, she was nothing but a fool.
But this One, has begun a symphony in her soul
And orchestrates his energy, toward his awe inspiring goal.

He raises her face to his, his hand gently under her chin,
"So beautiful when you laugh," he stirs the fire in her again.
His hands across her body, as a composer would direct
The orchestra begins again, her willingness correct.

For now the Limitors of Passion have begun to fade away
Never again will she be sated by half portions of the loving way.
She gives her all to each overture his hands create in her
The music that surrounds them, composed by her lover.

The World Stills to Watch:  

When a submissive woman kneels

They just don’t understand!
It’s not the slap on our hand.

We are not leather freaks
It is not the Pain she seeks.

Her song is fire her voice is strong,
Her spirit is unbroken, No, I am not wrong.

If the flower wilts from lack of life,
When the snow caps cry and show their strife,

When the feather falls from the eagle on high
She is hunter and Mistress of the blue, blue sky.

You anticipate their submission.

The rhythms that surround her, the native drum beat,
Grow louder as fierce wind picks up its feet.

It lives deep inside her, the need to be strong
But when His voice calls her, she is where she belongs.

She will lay down her fire, her crown and her trident,
The lighting will still, but her spine straight and unbent.

She gracefully insinuates herself to her knees
The position He’s chosen is like honey to bees.

So, you see when they say we are unworthy and weak
Of whom are they thinking and what do they seek?

When weak woman kneels that is just another notch,
When a fiery, fierce woman kneels, the World Stills to Watch.