November 13, 2000

     (later and longer post)

We’d had an absolutely perfect day. And the night proved just as perfect.

     Saturday started out a bit shaky for me, as i’d been out till 3:00 a.m., continuing the learning-to-swing-dance saga. (We’ve discovered i still suck at it, but am really good at the hip snuggling, body slinking, blues kind of moves. Go figure.) So anyway, the phone ringing at twenty minutes to ten in the morning was a bit brutal.  i was barely awake, trying to justify skipping exercise class when the chirpy voice of my friend P floated through my brain, offering me a ride to class.  Gads.  i dragged my butt to the shower.  Master grumbled something about P ruining His morning sex life.

     Two hours and many sore muscles later i returned home.  i had just enough time to eat and shower yet again before heading out to the next adventure of the day.  Master decided He wanted me dressed nicely, so out came the high heels (sorry feet!) and a skirt.  Because it was cool outside i paired the skirt with a sleeveless turtleneck and long tunic style sweater that Himself bought for me last year.  He was pleased with the results.  Especially when He discovered which style of pantyhose i was wearing. (The kind that are sort of a built in garter belt and hose attached idea , leaving tender bits exposed... i find them at Sears)  i did ask to wear a thong as well, knowing that the cool air was going be flowing quite freely up my skirt.  i also expected the ‘no’ answer.

     After dropping off the child prodigy who now works (yeah!) at his place of employment, we headed to an art exhibit opening.  i love going to these events!  And the artist who’s work we were seeing is the father of one of Himself’s good friends.  i loved His work.  All of it was done on big canvasses, the smallest probably not less than 2’ x 3’.  The pieces were all landscapes, combining hard rock, water, beach and foliage.  Some were soft and forgiving, but most were hard, stark lengths of stone, edged with only hints of softening liquid and green.  Perfect.

     We left there and after a brief stop in a kitchen store, entered another gallery close by.  This one was huge, encompassing 4 floors and highlighting several different artists. On the main floor they had an exhibit that i swear made me feel dizzy.  These pieces were modern art and more like sculptures, and gave the illusion of movement as you passed by them.  Definitely not something i think i could live with.  But Master wanted to see the work of one artist in particular, that this gallery represented, hence the reason we were there. (i’m getting used to not knowing where it is we are going, or why. It’s like being a child again, treated with surprises.)

     Anyway, the artist’s name is Takao Tanabe and it turns out not only is His work truly wonderful, it’s equally expensive.  A block print that i liked, unframed, was $700.00.  The ‘real’ stuff - aka not prints but the original painting - was beyond anything i could ever hope to afford.  A 4" x 14" (yes, inches), framed, was worth $6,000.00!  Alrighty then.  We’ll just come visit from time to time.  Okay?

     Back out on the street and the reality of our little Honda, we headed off to H and S’s house.  There we enjoyed a few hours of sipping wine and friendly chatting, catching up with each other’s news.  They have the greatest house, full of artsy, retro type things, and i love spending time in their company. That nasty four-letter word, work, gets in the way of our being able to indulge often enough however.

     (Did i mention that Master is scoring high in the perfect points right now? i can hear Him making tea as i work on this entry.)

     After our visit, Himself took me off to a Greek restaurant for dinner - yummy chicken souvlaki and a wine called Retsina.  We had a nice time chatting about all sorts of things, solving the D/s world problems and on a more personal level, Master emphasizing that no one was allowed to treat me poorly in His house.  It was a perfect way to end the day. Well at least i thought it was ended.  He had other ideas.

     As we were traveling toward home, Master rested one hand on my thigh as He usually does, while driving.  Only this time He decided to let that hand do a bit of investigating.  Right up my leg and under the skirt and straight to the tender bits.  And the next thing i know ... well we all know what the next thing was and i’m blushing again remembering it.  He was grinning like a Cheshire cat and i was begging all over the place ... please, please please... and the permission wasn’t granted ‘till we were nearly home.  Which makes for rather wobbly legs when trying to navigate into the house.

     Once inside, i was instructed to remove everything except for my top (no bra allowed) and the stockings.  (mental note: buy more of those stockings, no matter how expensive they are) i was then allowed to join Him as we checked our email. Once finished i was sent off to kneel at the foot of the bed.  i didn’t have to wait long.

     He entered the bedroom and told me to keep my face down.  i could hear Him rattling about the room, getting the toybag out.   Suddenly His hand was in my hair, clutching it in a way that didn’t hurt as He pulled my head up.  And His other hand was pulling the hood over my head.  As before, my initial reaction was one of not being able to catch my breath, even though in truth the light material is less confining than pulling a sweater over your head.  The seam running down the length of it and pressing against my nose is a bit annoying however.  i struggled to pull it to a more comfortable spot as Master struggled to get the wrist cuffs on me.  Nothing like a good struggle to spiff things up in a delicious way *eg*.

    Of course He won (re: the cuffs) and now i’m in doggy position on the bed and very quickly discovering that our recent gaps in scening have resulted in me being more sensitive.  In short, my butt’s out of practice. ( another mental note: find son his own apartment soon!)  ‘Course we could just view it as me being a recycled virgin butt again.  And it certainly didn’t prevent me from enjoying myself enormously. Heh!

     i think i am going to develop a love/hate relationship with that hood.  It’s annoying as hell at first, but the benefits outweigh the annoyance factor very quickly.  i seem to get lost in another world; one that is filled only with the sense of touch and sound.  The sting of a flogger seems more intense and the soft tones of music penetrate my mind more fully.  But there is an added bonus.  i am not able to see my body.

     In public i wear a waist cincher and that allows me to stop fretting about the imperfections of my body; stop obsessing over the scars and the lack of exercise and results of pregnancies.  i can fully let go and enjoy.  At home i’m naked and i can see.  i get the chance to fixate on my imperfections. The hood stops that ability, but unlike a blindfold, also muffles hearing in such a way that only sharp or strong tones can get through.  So there’s double the benefit.

     But sharp and strong physical sensations also get through. The flogging had stopped.  i was still in doggy position, on my knees with my legs spread.  i could hear Him moving, but i wasn’t sure what He was doing.  But suddenly i knew ... what He did ...!

     He got on His back and slid under my body, starting between my legs.  i didn’t realize this at first; i couldn’t see. But His tongue let me know, told me exactly where He was.  It wasn't long before i was begging again.  my legs weakened, all of me drained, and then He slid the rest of the way up my body and pulled me on to Him.  Sweet, so sweet ... delicious.  It felt the same as the night He held a knife at my throat in the darkness and took me.

      And i’m blushing again, remembering all this.  i don’t make a habit of sharing our intimacy here, but sometimes i just need to express the intensity, put it in words that i can revisit with my memories.  And try to express how this isn’t just about sex (even though i've just described it's fit in all this), but about sensation and connection and bonding.  It’s about feeling perfectly right in my submission to Him.  And the acceptance of the person that i am, who craves it.  About the reality that i like feeling owned and that knives or hoods or long, hard hands emphasize that for me.

     So, i’ve gotten very introspective and branched off in my re-telling of Saturday. But really, it was a most perfect day. And night.