The Three Signs Book 1 CathyChapter 15 Partings
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After the weekend, Andrew gave me some space to get my head together, which was good. To be honest, I was 'on autopilot' all week, and hardly able to concentrate. I was glad work hadn't noticed. The experience at Dean's tilted my world on its axis, and I started to wonder about all kinds of things.
Going up there was a good idea, I decided, even if it was only to open my eyes to the possibilities. I learned some good lessons there. Probably the best one was that if my head was in the right place, I could deep throat Andrew, which was pretty exciting. Discovering a depth of subspace that I didn't know existed was amazing too. My mind and body were capable of handling torments and pain much better than I thought. Though I was achy and marked for a few days afterwards, they soon went away.
Before going up there, I had a pretty good idea of what went on at Dean's, but I honestly thought I was going to get the option of getting involved. Like I could've just watched if I wanted. But it wasn't like that at all. I was in it from the start and I fucking loved it. That threw a spanner in the works. How dare I love it? What kind of a slut was I? God. Even the horrible feelings of being ignored faded from my selective memory. It was an incredible weekend, and thoughts and flashes from it haunted me for weeks.
And yet, my jealousy concerned me. I could drown in sensuality, but if Andrew received pleasure from someone else, I felt betrayed! Then I felt guilty about thinking such ridiculous thoughts. What was wrong with me? It was the only part of the weekend that left me with questions.
One time at work I giggled when I thought of writing, 'My Master's pleasure is my joy!' a hundred times on the whiteboard in the executive boardroom. I wished I were always so nonchalant and laid back about it. But I wasn't, and I hoped my jealousy wouldn't be my undoing.
Dominique and I had discussed many subjects over the previous year. I felt I knew what she was capable of, and I knew her limits. In the days following the weekend, we talked briefly about the night with Paul just prior to it, and about general conclusions from the weekend itself. She had nodded and agreed with things I pointed out to her, and added comments of her own. We even went to our first munch together during the week, and I was so proud of her. She'd been wonderful, demonstrating a depth and understanding of herself that I was proud to witness. She seemed to speak her mind in thoughtful ways and I enjoyed the maturity she was showing. I was pleased with her progress.
As the week wore on, it became clear new questions had been raised in her mind. She seemed to be wrestling with something she thought was important, but she didn't come to me about it. One time I was about to enter our bedroom and I hesitated in the doorway. She thought she was alone, and her brows were furrowed in deep concentration. She was sniffling, holding a tissue to her nose, tears trickling slowly down her cheeks. As I turned and allowed her some privacy, it became clear something serious was going on.
A few choice words still had their desired affect. Now that I think about it, in the days after the weekend at Dean's, I can't remember how often I said words like, 'Dominique, come here, ' but it was a few. I was increasingly worried about her, but I didn't sit her down and question her. I let her think it through, expecting her to come to me if she had an impasse.
After all, I reasoned, scening was still a relatively new concept to her. What we did together, to her, was simply how she submitted to me. Allowing herself to be used, to whatever degree I chose, during play, was 'her life'. But scening in full view of others, having others use her at my whim, or seeing me use another woman, was a pretty big step. A lot had happened, and she still hadn't come to me.
By Saturday evening I decided to get to the bottom of it. "Dominique? Come here, pet."
"Yes, Sir?" I replied, entering the lounge room from the kitchen, wiping my hands on my apron. I'd been peeling potatoes for Andrew's favourite potato salad. It was a bit weird how I threw myself into meal making.
"Come and kneel in front of me, pet."
"Oh, um," I hesitated, thinking about the water about to boil. "Yes, Sir." Andrew had arranged a cushion for me and I kneeled down on it, my eyes flicking at the kitchen door.
"I want you to tell me what is on your mind."
"Just that I have some water on the boil. I probably should turn it off if this is going to take some time." I noticed Andrew's eyes narrowing, but it was strange. It wasn't an angry look, more like he was trying to see inside my head. I thought, Uh oh.
"Go on," he said with a sideways nod.
"Yes, Sir," I said, springing to my feet. Trotting on tiptoes to the kitchen, I turned off the stove and took off my apron before hurrying back. As I settled, I looked up into Andrew's eyes and held my breath as he spoke.
"Good girl," he said, smiling softly down on me. "Okay, now what's on your mind?"
"Um," I replied stupidly, trying to buy some time. "What do you mean, Sir?"
"Don't answer a question with a question. Tell me."
I sighed and looked down at my hands. I wasn't being good and I knew it. "I'm sorry. I haven't been myself lately."
"I've noticed. It's okay. It's time to talk to me about it."
I wanted to... I really did... "I... I..."
"Dominique. See that door?" He pointed toward the front door and my eyes widened. "You may go through it at any time. Now talk, or walk."
Fuck!. "I just... I mean... I don't know what I mean to you!!!"
The weirdest silence settled over us as his shoulders slumped. He looked down at the floor for the longest time before raising his eyes to me. Tears threatened to spill onto my cheeks, I was so afraid. I don't know why, but I thought he was going to be angry. God, I was so wrong.
The look in his eyes floored me as he whispered, "You mean everything to me, pet."
"Oh, Master!" I cried.
"You are mine, and I am yours."
"I'm so sorry!"
"We are one entity. Two people, but we are one. Together. You and me."
"Forgive me!"
"We are on the same side. It's you and me against the world."
"I doubted you!"
"You are forgiven."
"I'm a terrible sub!"
"No, you are not. There is more to this life than you know. Your lessons are not ended."
"I'm so sorry, Sir!" I burst into tears at his feet. I don't know. I was wound up so tightly. With my fingernails tearing holes in the cuff of his dress pants, and my mascara running onto them, I heaved and cried my eyes out. My guilt had convinced me I wasn't good enough for him.
"Hush now," he said softly. "It's okay."
I could feel his fingers at the back of my head, sliding into my hair. Gently they tightened, but not to the point of pain. It was just short of that. It was exactly tight enough to halt my tears. As he raised my head with gentle pressure, I let go of his pants and moved up to all fours, following his desire for me. Backwards he bent my neck, arching my back and bringing my eyes to his. I must have looked a sight.
"Everything about you is wonderful. Know I love you."
My mouth opened but nothing came out. I'm sure my heart stopped. As I gazed into his eyes, trying to find a hint of doubt and finding none, I finally found my voice. "Thank you, Master," I whispered. His fingers slid from my hair, letting my head drop and giving me time to catch my breath. I sat back on my heels and spread my knees, placing my hands palms up on my thighs and arching my back. God. Joy filled the void in my heart and I longed for his touch.
Always reassure me like this. Always make me yours like this!
His eyes burnt into mine and I melted before him. I would never meet another like him. Only he touched me without touching. We both knew it. Oh God, we both knew it. The hair on my neck bristled as he rose from his chair and slid his fingers into my hair once more.
"Come, Dominique," he said, grinning and brushing a tear from his eye. "It's time for the works, pet."
I've always believed actions spoke louder than words. It's an old saying but so true. Discerning the veracity of Dominique's words wasn't hard. Her body language screamed the truth of them. Every heave of her shoulders, every sob into the carpet while holding the leg of my pants, told of her pain. How could I have been so stupid? I'd been so single-mindedly pursuing an outcome that I'd failed to recognise the danger signs. I guessed empathy wasn't my strong suit.
When she questioned her importance to me, her heart wasn't the only one that skipped a beat. Mine also stopped in time. In that split second I saw Rebecca, waving her finger and laughing at my foolishness. I barely had time to crush my guilt and listen to them both.
Move on, you big oaf.
So I did.
It was that easy.
The next morning, I was enjoying a few quiet minutes of solitude, lying in bed, my mind wandering. Andrew had driven to the local bakery for some Danish pastries to have with our leisurely morning coffee. Mmmmmm... I loved Sundays...
When I ran my fingers over my hip, I felt a couple of slightly raised and sensitive ridges of skin. Into my mind came the memory of being struck twice in the same place, and Andrew's voice, reminding me not to move. My eyes fluttered closed and I cooed as I brushed my fingertips along the ridge. I'd had lots of these before. I didn't mind. They were only tiny and didn't last long. I actually liked them.
Why did I like being 'marked'?
The reason I didn't tell my vanilla friends the details of my relationship with Andrew was because they would confuse what we did with physical abuse. As might any uninformed observer if they saw the marks. I'm sure they would equate what we did with Andrew physically abusing me. I wished I could cast a temporary spell over them so they felt what I felt. Maybe then they would understand.
For starters, Andrew has never hit me in anger. For example, I would never be struck across the face in the middle of a heated conversation. I was assured of that a couple of months ago when Andrew and I agreed to add it as a hard limit for me. Andrew said it was a hard limit for him too, and I was never to strike him across the face ever. I never thought of that. Blushing, I gulped and nodded!
Also, no matter what he uses, rarely if ever does it begin hard. This is where I think internal wiring comes into it. Most people call it subspace, and just about all submissives experience it. It's where time doesn't exist, only what you feel exists. And what you feel is somehow experienced in a way that makes sense. Subspace can come over me at a moments notice. A look or a word might be enough. Even at my most feisty, even when an inappropriate thought is bubbling away barely in control, when I first feel that toy or his hand touching my skin or my hair, something happens and I slide into the place where I am me.
When Andrew strikes my body, whether it be softly, medium or hard, every time it is measured to coincide with what I want or need at that particular moment. Sometimes what I need is not necessarily what I would choose. But that is what I give to my Master. I give him the right to choose what I need. It's true that most of the time we agree anyway. I wouldn't be here if we didn't. So when he tells me he is going to use something on me, I know he will 'warm me up' before using it with any force. I know he won't actually hurt me. And, to my delight, most of the time I get no less than I deserve.
So when I talk about being marked, I don't mean being beaten black and blue. God. I can't imagine what that is like, and I can see no parallels at all between the two. Andrew's dominance is measured and accurate. It's exactly what I like about the lifestyle: that it's structured and clear.
This is your place, and that is mine. I am like this, and you are like that. This is what excites me, and that is what excites you. We fit together.
Sometimes I've woken in the morning wondering why I'm aching. Later, I can feel what he has done through my clothes. It affects me, being able to feel them without touching them, knowing they are there with me. A part of him. Being marked makes me feel owned, and serves as a constant reminder of my submission.
Just last week, at my very first munch, we had an evening picnic with floodlights and barbeques. While sitting on blankets and munching hotdogs and steak sandwiches, one of the regular girls asked, "What is the difference between a slave and a submissive?" After a few protests that the subject had been beaten to death, two girls spoke up, saying they'd really like to know.
Without thinking I offered, "A submissive chooses." Everyone looked at me and I was very embarrassed. I think it was one of the first things I said in front of strangers. Maybe it was because I had given it some thought that I blurted. When everyone was quiet and waiting for a follow up, I was blushing madly and hoping Andrew would rescue me. But he didn't. I had to say something! "A... A submissive chooses her path. A slave's path is chosen for her."
Someone said, "That's pretty good, I like that..."
I looked up at Andrew and he smiled and nodded, then added for the group, "A slave and a submissive are close allies. They are very similar in thought processes. Often it is simply a self-image thing, where one prefers to think of themselves as 'slave', rather than 'submissive'."
A feisty sub asked, "Yes, but what, in your opinion, is the difference?"
"Well, the lifestyle being what it is, there are any number of possible answers. But mainstream thought says a submissive is one who, by a choice that may be revoked, relinquishes a limited and pre-defined amount of power over themselves; and with this, he or she is satisfied, and so is their dominant. A slave is considered to be one who puts his or her entire being at their Master's or Mistress' disposal, without limit, and nothing less would satisfy either of them. As far as my opinion goes, I think in some ways, the 'slave mindset' is a little deeper than the 'sub mindset'. Deeper in the sense that it is more assured. It is unquestioned. This may or may not be a good thing." He gazed down at me and I blushed. "For me, I enjoy watching Dominique's internal tug of war."
Someone yelled out, 'Write that down!' And people laughed and agreed. Some even clapped. While kneeling at his feet, I nodded and smiled back at them, proud as anything and wondering what he just said!
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xmoviesforyouIt should've been boring, watching the roiling green fog break against the windows, but it had captivated Li since they had entered it hours ago. Even with the impending danger of the planetary mission, the mesmerizing patterns on the window combined with the low rumble of breaking atmosphere was almost soothing. His squadmates were on their screens or restlessly trying to sit still; the atmosphere in the room was too tense for the normal chattering. Not sure what all the fuss is about, Li...
Holly Hendrix and Angel Smalls are best friends. They both work in a comic book store. They are always there even when one has the day off, she will come into help. They love comic books. The only thing Angel dreams about is her boss Lucas Frost. She never had the courage to tell him to him. But today she will have to go in the back store with him to do inventory. It’s her chance to get exactly what she wants! She lays the moves on him and gives him her tight teen asshole. Showing him...
xmoviesforyouRoots Motel Ch 1 By: Friskee_cpl ([email protected])It takes hours to write these stories but only seconds to vote and send a message. Thanks to all of those wonderful people who send messages. It does make a difference. Please enjoy.You help fuck a friend's wife and cum all in her cunt and you end up buying their motel. As Ned Kelly said "Such is Life".Hello I am Marcus Franklin. I own a small motel in the Riverina and I spend a fair amount of my time in the bedroom. Well bedrooms to be...
Toh ye hai 2nd part meri chudakad life ki.Toh jab vo cigarette pi raha tha toh main gayi aur tv par blue film lagayi aur mere bete rajesh ke sine pe sar rakh ke so gayi aur film dekhne lagi . Toh us film main yek milf aurat aapne bete aur apne baap ke sath chudai kar rahi thi. Ye dekh kar meri chut aur bhi gilli hone lagli.Aur mera bhi maan kar raha tha ki mujhe mi double penetrate kar koyi.Toh maine mere bete ko kaha . Bete mujhe aur use karo na.Chod dalo muhje aur .Apni rakhel maa ki chut...
when i was 18 i first started to dress up when my mom was out and i loved it. well this is a story of my first time and i would like to share it with everyone. me and my mom live alone and she used to always bring guys back to the house and i used to always hear them having sex and it really turned me on so i tried to peek into the doorway each time and one time a guy left is underwear in the hallway so i picked them up and smelt them and it made me really horny. however this guy turned out to...
Chapter Fifteen – Hogwarts Champion Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the attitudes or characters in the Harry Potter series, nor does it have any affiliation with its author. Story Codes: mf, mf, exhib, hand, grope, spank, unif, voy The selection process for the Triwizard Cup had begun the night before, after the arrival of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students. Any student over the age of eighteen and wanting to try their hand at being selected as Hogwarts Champion had only...
Today is the birthday of our young and hardworking Man, Jack. An average man, he works hard at his Office desk, a regional manager of an investment banking firm, he is well off but is modest. The only problem with Jack is that he is always concentrating on work and never fully relaxes, even on his birthday. Today however is an exception.Over the past month, Jack and his girlfriend Lucy have been having discussions about having an open relationship. More specifically, Lucy had asked Jack if they...
It was last friday (28th January) and I was round at my mates house with a few other mates too. We were all enjoying the night, knocking back a few beers, listening to some music and having a game of poker. Both his mum and dad had gone to visit family down south for a few days, so we had the house to ourselves. As the night went on, our beer supply ran quite low, so a few people had to go to the shop for more...luckily, i was not one of them! Three of my mates ended up having to go to the shop...
This is my first attempt at fiction, so please be gentle with me! Comments, criticism, or questions are welcome, just send them to [email protected] or [email protected] I'm well aware that my characters are flat and the plot is near nonexistent, but I'm just writing for fun. I'll let Morpheus and Stephanie write the good stuff! Thanks for reading it! This story may be posted on any free site. Summer Games By Allison Voorhees We get together for one...
Brad was already gone when I woke up from what I thought was another good night’s sleep. I got up, feeling the sleeping arrangements would work out fine. I hardly remember him coming to bed, never mind being there all night. We had a fun day swimming, working on our tans and watching Brad chat up the cute lifeguard. That night my relationship with my family started to change, and I was about to embark on a sexual journey that I could not have imagined in my wildest fantasies. I had been...
“Look out for that cupboa...” Oh no! Rob! Not again! Flashback to the day we met, when he tripped over a line that was lying loose on the deck, and didn’t duck when the boom swung around on a jibe. Knocked himself out cold, and we had to make a trip to the ER. But this time he just landed on his knees beside the settee, with his face in my ... Oh My! Right there! I never, I mean, I didn’t know if he hurt himself, or if he was unconscious or what, and I didn’t dare move. Then he wiggled...
My name is Deana. I live right in the middle of corn country, Iowa City, Iowa. I’m sales rep for a major department store, with two cats and a dog named Cuddles. I stand five-five in heels, am a full figured woman, with long red hair, green-eyes, and a zest for life, love, and adventure. I was introduced to swinging six year ago by my now ex-husband and loved every minute of it. Or I did, until he got jealous of me having more fun. So I quit. He has since divorced me and married a younger gal....
Liz Bradshaw prowled around her spacious apartment, a double shot of vodka in hand. Her angular face bare of any makeup, revealed a good-looking woman just shy of forty who was both lonely and depressed. Mr. Bradshaw had left with no warning some five months back. Liz later learned he'd run off with a twenty year old, leaving Liz with all the bills. Fortunately, she had a decent job as administrator for the Catholic Church in the New Orleans diocese and made do with what she had. Adding to...
THE MAKING OF A BLACK COCK WHOREValerie sat there questions filled head. How did this all happen to her? A year or slightly more she was just a normal white girl fantasies filled her head, the usual kind for a 21 year old, plenty of cocks fucking her. Sometimes she was bound so no escape in the end always covered in cum some even pissed on her she was their fuck slut to be used.But in reality she knew she would run a mile if this was to happen to her, so no harm in thinking it surely.Valerie...
I can vividly remember the first time that I sucked a dick and let a guy cum in my mouth. It was exactly ten days before my nineteenth birthday. We were about two weeks into our summer vacation and the town that I live in was very small. And when I say small I mean small. Everyone knew everyone and it seemed that everyone had some type of connection to someone else in our community. It was a very hot muggy Saturday morning when a group of us guys got together and headed to the ballpark to play...
Gay MaleLaura may have had a premonition that something was up. She certainly gave me the impression that she was uneasy. I wondered if she had spoken to one of the girls at the brothel. Why hadn't I warned them that she was not to know of the plan to retaliate against Ollie? If she knew I had skipped one of my classes that day and was planning to miss school the following day, she did not let on. With the answering machine light no longer blinking she did not resist when I pushed her toward the...
This story is a little different from my normal ones. Hope you enjoy it. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mantra by Sarah Miller "And in the late 600's, the first recorded King, Songsten Gompo, supressed the Bonists, and Buddhism became the state religion. OK, read chapters 17 and 18 for next week. We'll continue with the evolution of Tibetan Buddhism. Have a good weekend." Professor Dave Plunkwell gathered his lecture notes as...
IntroIf you are looking for well-written pros, them my stories are not for you.They are based on the things I have fantasised about throughout my life so are not meant to be realistic or factual.They are about good, hardcore sex, not romance and so are meant to be fanciful and raunchy; even ‘raw’.If it can happen in porn films it can happen in my stories so don’t read them and then leave smart arse comments about what teens do and don’t say or 10-inch cocks being ridiculous (Google Jonah...
This story is the second about the times I and my friends were able to talk my wife Anita into playing a strip card game. Contrary to the beliefs of some of the odder people who comment on similar stories I have no problems with my own sexual prowess or equipment, I just get a buzz out of other men seeing my wife naked, watching them seduce her, and encouraging her to broaden her experience and enjoy her sexuality. We were in our late 20's married about 2 years and living in Kent. Anita is a...
John stirred from a dreamless but very restful sleep, then stretched carefully so that he wouldn’t disturb the blonde and brunette snuggled up against him. Alyssa and Calara murmured in their sleep, then wriggled in closer, feeling soft, warm, and quite delicious where they’d draped themselves over his body. He wrapped his arms around them, enjoying the feel of their supple skin and lean muscles as he stroked their backs. The girl’s sleeping arrangement system had been thrown into chaos, by...
Prue opened her eyes to find two extra bodies in her bed. She had a little arm wrapped around her neck and two little knees in her tummy. She looked down to see her daughter cuddled up between her and Tah. Tah’s arm was wrapped over Nianna to lie on Prue’s waist. Her hand was on his hip. She looked at Tah and was glad he had put pants on. His eyes opened, and he grinned at her then looked down at his daughter. “She knocked on the door a couple of hours ago, and I had to let her in,” he...
Most of us enjoy masturbating when it feels horny, and obviously it’s required to be lonely but it gets crowded sometimes as a necessary evil! Whatever, it’s a real situation that I faced some weeks back after my exams finished and I went to my uncle’s house to have some repose for some days and also to visit my cousin there. My name is Kaushik and I’m 5’4 and Rajeev, my cousin, is 5’6 and I’m some average-built weighing about 138.89 pounds and Rajeev is slim and about 154.32 pounds. We met...
Incest