The Right Touch

Something I have thought about a lot lately is touch because over the years, I have come to realize that I am just not a touchy-feely person.  In fact, sometimes it's as if there is an invisible box around me, with only a few people that are granted entrance inside.  I definitely am not the type of person to intrude into someone else's personal space while talking nor do I reach out to casually touch them, and I appreciate when people respect my space in return. However, I understand some people thrive on touch and that's ok.  If I'm not comfortable, I just attempt to move slightly and re-establish my invisible box.     

Of course, my kids seem to own the key to this imaginary box of mine, barging in whenever they feel like. But that's different and perfectly fine with me for the most part.  There are days when I am touched out and I have to say "ok...mommy needs some space" but I try to remind myself that this precious time is short and one day they won't be interested in sitting on my lap (even though they are really too big for that now) or sharing snuggles.

The dogs are kind of like this too.  No sense trying to create space with them because they force themselves in my lap anyways.  With cute faces and wagging tails, who can resist?

Now, Daddy is altogether different.  With Him, I have no imaginary box or boundaries.  I want to be in His personal space as much as I need for Him to be in mine...all the time. Nothing makes my thoughts spiral out of control faster than a lack of physical connection between us and I'm not just referring to intimacy.  I'm talking about a hug, a brush on my arm or back, sitting at His feet with my head in His lap, anything.  His touch has the power to keep me grounded through everything life throws at us. 

Speaking of touch and grounding, this makes me think about what happens when electricity passes through two people in love or lust.  Not the figurative "spark", even though after all this time together, Daddy's touch still lights me up and makes my stomach flutter.  What I am talking about is electricity literally running though Him...and into me. 

I've mentioned the Violet Wand before and how much we both love that toy.  Well, there is an adaptor (or Body Contact Accessory) that allows the person wielding the wand to become the conductor. 

The metal plate fits snuggly against His skin (He likes to tuck it inside the waist of His pants) and the other end then plugs into where the glass of the wand would normally be inserted.  With one hand, He can hold the base of the wand, leaving His other hand to freely roam around touching and zapping my body.

There is a slight downside though.  It zaps the "giver" as much as it does the "receiver" when skin connects.  Him being the sadist, wasn't too much impressed with that the first time He tried it.   

But the other day He pulled it out and tried it again.  He spent some time working me over with the wand itself before hooking up the attachment.  At first, He just lightly touched my stomach with one finger and we both flinched as it delivered a nice shocked to us both. 

Eventually, His hand and fingers were sending shock waves of electricity along my stomach, the inside of my thighs, and across my tits.  Finally, His fingers made their way to that ever so sensitive spot between my legs. 

I tried several times to write about how hot this was and I just don't think I can do it justice so I will leave it as a moment between Him and I...and your imagination! 

 

When one flesh is waiting, there is electricity in the merest contact-Wallace Stegner

          

(In)Decently Exposed

A-shirts (or wife-beaters as so many of us call them)...those darn little shirts!  What else can I say? 

Plenty actually.  Let me start with...

I really hate that Daddy loves them so much. But of course He loves them.

They are tight, see-through, and best of all, He can torment me by making me wear them. Something to make me squirm right out of my comfort zone for sure!!

One of my assignments several weeks ago was to purchase the smallest size wife-beater I could possibly fit into. I walked back and forth in Wal-Mart agonizing over what size to buy.  Nothing from the men's department was small enough, so I ended up in the boy's department wondering if anything there was big enough.  To make matters worse, unless I was missing something, they only sell them in sealed packages like T-shirts so it's not like you can take one in the dressing room and try it on.  Looking around to make sure no one was watching, I tore the pack open so I could at least pull one out.

Holding it up against myself, I decided it would work and now didn't feel so bad since I was buying the pack I already ripped opened.   

Later that night, I came into His office with shirts in hand showing that I had completed His assignment.  He asked that I model one for Him.  When I finally contorted myself enough to get it on, the shirt (does it even qualify as a shirt?) was so small that the ribbed texture was pulled taut across my tits and was short enough to expose several inches of my belly.  Oh and let's not forget to mention that no part of my nipples were left to the imagination, which of course, pleased Him immensely above all else. 

After explaining that He would have plans for the shirts at a later time, He sent me to put them away for safe keeping. 

Well, it just so happened that I noticed one of those wife-beaters made it into His car just a few short days later.  Seeing it there every time we went anywhere made me extremely nervous but after a couple weeks, I eventually stopped thinking about it.   

So, a few nights ago, we were enjoying a nice evening out to dinner, just the two of us.  The waiter set down my pomegranate margarita and after the first sip, I commented on how strong the alcohol was. 

I suggest you drink two then, since you will be wearing your wife-beater into the gas station before we go home. 

It really took a second for this to sink in because I was already scantily clad, wearing a tank top without a bra and shorty shorts to dinner.  What was the big deal about going into the gas station in what I was wearing if I had gone into a restaurant? 

Then it occurred to me what He meant.  He was referring to the "other" shirt that had been patiently waiting in His car for just the right opportunity. 

I tried to stay calm during throughout the rest of dinner and just tell myself...Maybe Daddy's toying with my mind again.

But I started getting a little worried after dinner when He detoured, and we were no longer driving in the direction of home. 

Then, I got ALOT worried when He told me to change shirts.

Much to my relief, after about a 30 minute drive, we ended up at a park. 

Whew...He was messing with my mind, I thought to myself. 

It was almost dark and pretty much deserted so I didn't mind being somewhat exposed when He parked the car and headed up a small trail into the woods.  But it really was getting dark, so after walking just a little ways and sneaking in a few kisses, we turned back. 

As we got to the car, I mentioned how I really needed to pee so He stopped by a restroom we had passed, still within the park.  I ran up to the door only to find it already locked up for the night, but I assured Him it was no big deal...I could make it home.

However, as we turned onto the main road after exiting the park, I spotted a gas station.  The sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach told me He was about to turn in and He did.  Even as He pulled up into the parking spot, I clung to hope that it was all still part of His sadistic mind game.  It wasn't though and I knew it wasn't when He handed me His debit card and a lottery ticket. 

You are going to go inside, go to the bathroom, get me a diet coke, and cash in this lottery ticket. 

"You really want me to do this?"

Yes, go!

"But there are people sitting right there...and...and...look you can see!" (pointing to my chest, like He didn't already know)

I'm not telling you again...GO...right now!

I just had to find a few moments of courage and hope that there weren't too many people inside but it sure would have helped if the alcohol hadn't already worn off.  Luckily, we were no where close to home so at least the chances of running into anyone we knew were slim to none.

I closed the car door and as I walked in front of the car parked next to us, I just knew the woman in the front passenger seat was staring at me. I'm sure any meager attempt to casually hide my chest behind the lottery ticket was fruitless. 

Walking into the convenience store, I instantly turned to the right avoiding the path that would lead me right past the registers and people.  I made it to the bathroom fairly unnoticed and took care of business.  While washing my hands, I studied myself in the mirror and shifted the shirt around to see if there was any way to disguise my nipples, even just a little bit, but there wasn't. Couldn't stand there forever, so I just decided to get on with it.   

Leaving the bathroom, I retraced my previous path back to the coolers where I grabbed His diet soda.  Again, I had gone unnoticed.  Then, I looked around and made a bee line for the register while the cashier had her back turned and there was no one else around.  As the cashier turned around to ring me up, she either was trying really hard not to look at my boobs or the counter between us acted as a pretty good buffer because she didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. 

I wasn't out of the woods quite yet.  I still had to walk out of the store and back to the car.  Sure enough, the woman in the parked car, who watched me walk in, was still sitting there and now a man was occupying the driver's seat.  Call me paranoid, but I am pretty sure they were waiting for me come out, most likely hoping to confirm if they really saw what they thought they saw.  Well, they certainly had front row seats now didn't they?! 

Nothing I could do at that point but let them have their little look-see while I kept my eyes on Daddy and made it back to the car. 

There have been plenty of limits He can push and eventually whatever my hang-up is with that particular thing seems fade away after a while.  I don't know about this one though.  It just never seems to get any easier, and I suppose that's why He keeps at it.     
  

A Year Ago...

It's been exactly one year since He placed His collar around my neck.  What a special time that was in our lives.  It's crazy...crazy that a year has already passed.

In honor of this one year anniversary and how much it means to me, I thought I would make a compilation of excerpts from several blog posts during the days leading up to and including our collaring ceremony.  Feel free to follow the links if you would like to read each post in it's entirety. 
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For the first time in at least 10 years...we are completely alone.  One week with no work, no responsibilities, or anyone in the house with us.

Friday evening, the start of our vacation and first night home together, Master takes me in the bedroom and explains to me for the this time that we have...there is one thing that I must very clearly understand.

He says very firmly, "Remember, everything is just because I can".  

from Just Because He can

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All week, I had been mentally preparing and patiently awaiting what was to start yesterday with a mix of excitement and fear.  Master told me that He had several intense scenes planned over a period of a few days that would be meant to challenge my physical and emotion strength and test my commitment and complete surrender as His slave.  The first of these "tests" took place last night. 

He called the scene "At the "Cross"roads".  When all was said and done, this was by far the longest session we have had, at a little over 3 hours and little did I know, would mainly focus on the one thing I fear the most...having my tits whipped.

Starting with a light flogger, He begins to lick gently at my stomach, then easing up to my tits and down to my pussy.  I try to relax into it and enjoy the light stimulation as He continues across the front of my body but in the back of mind know that His gentleness will not last.  Gradually, He increases intensity and speed until I hear myself moaning with each stroke contacting my body, caught somewhere between a little bit of pain but also a little bit of pleasure.  Changing to a heavy flogger, He again starts easy and works His way up to harsher, more deliberate strikes, until I am crying out in agony with almost each stroke, particularly the ones that make contact with my overly sensitive nipples.  As my cries turn to sobs, I am still determined to take what He has to give, trusting that He will know how far to push me.  He encourages me to breathe through it, to find my focus...pushing me through the last few more lashes.

As He eases me off the cross, I collapse into His arms still sobbing, shaking, and completely fatigued.  He holds me and assures me of how good I did. And once I have composed myself, He offers me water pointing to the bowl sitting on the floor in the corner of the room.  Knowing what this means, without hesitation or shame, I quickly drop to my hands and knees and crawl to the bowl quickly lapping at the water like a puppy.  When He isn't looking, I glance down at my battered tits to see the welts and lash marks already forming and whimper in pain, hoping that my tits won't have to endure any more for the evening.  Once I quenched my thirst, I assume the kneeling pose as instructed with my face down on the floor and He knows I am ready to resume.

from "Crossroads: A Night of Riding the Cross (Part 1)
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Almost too shaken at this point to drink any water, He sits down in front of me again, kisses me, and explains that this is the final time I will be on the cross should I so chose.  However, if I chose this final round, I will step up to the cross and beg Him to be strap me on and whip my tits.

This time, without the blindfold, He walks up to me with the heavy flogger and begins to lightly lash across my stomach first.  It's not often, I get to see Him working.  With just the hint of a grin on His face, He is so handsome and consumed by what He is doing...I can't help but fall in love a little more as I watch Him.  It's obvious, He is being easier than earlier but my skin is already on fire.  As He moves to my tits, I pull against the restraints and cry out as He reminds me to breathe.  Finally, He tells me only two more, one on each nipple and I am to thank Him for each.  Staring directly into His eyes as a reminder to myself of why I can endure this,  the flogger lands on my right nipple, and despite the searing pain, I find myself choking out the words, "THANK YOU MASTER FOR WHIPPING MY NIPPLE!".  And the same follows for the left.  Relief floods though me as He unstraps me and pulls me into His arms.  I can feel how turned on He is and He is kissing me so hard and passionately, my body just melts against Him.

from "Crossroads: A Night of Riding the Cross (Part 2)
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He had designed this moment so beautifully and will be one that I will never forget.  He asked me to remove my clothes and kneel at His feel as I felt the smooth metal of the collar as it was locked around my neck signifying to us both that I belong to Him completely. 

He had something prepared that He wanted to say...some vows so to speak.  The short version is that He promised to guide and protect me, honor my feelings and needs, and tend to my happiness, health, and well-being.  I, in turn, accepted to follow Him on this journey, and to serve and belong to Him. 

Then He began read to me an excerpt from a book and I could no longer hold back my tears.   

The story told of  a man becoming completely "intoxicated" by the song of a Nightbird.  The sound of this Nightbird consumed his thoughts and so "enraptured" him that it consumed his soul.  Choking up as He spoke (which let me say does not happen typically), He explained that I am His Nightbird.   

The front of the tag on my collar is engraved with the words..."Owned by Heron"

The back is engraved with the words..."As I Own His Heart".

from the Collaring of Nightbird
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