Thursday, May 1, 2014

Oh but the things a slave will do for a kiss from his Mistress



I truly enjoy all aspects of life, but there is no finer time than when I go to bed with my Mistress. Every night, we cuddle in bed together. Me on my back, and my darling queen lying on my shoulder with her arm across my chest.  Every so often she may tease me and sometimes even bring me to the edge, but usually before we actually sleep, we’ll kiss.

Words cannot describe the pure sensuality of my Mistress’s kiss. Every our lips touch, and I feel her tongue tease mine, it positively puts me over the moon. Last night, there was no edging, and there certainly was no cumming, but there apparently was not to be any kissing either, because without warning, she moved to roll over while saying “good night my slave”.

This simply could not be. I protested, albeit meekly and plaintively, to which she pulled me to her and proceeded not so much kiss me, but to tease my lips in such a way that it made me hunger for more like never before.

I honestly do not know if she was planning it all along or not, but I do know that at that moment, she completely had me. She asked what I would do for a kiss from her, what I would be willing to sacrifice? I mumbled “anything” as I tried to reach her luscious lips with mine, but she held my head where it was so that she could control any contact. This increased my desire even more so.

“Will you assume the position for thirty minutes in exchange for a thirty second kiss?” she cooed. “The position” is one of her favorite forms of punishment, where I must lay naked and face down on the freezing cold master bath floor, chest in contact with the marble, hands clasped behind my back. I’m often whipped in this position, but she knows how torturous just lying there can be on the body.

I hesitated, wanting to say “yes” but as sexy as she is, the part of me that was still rational knew just how one-sided such a deal really was. She knew it too, but she also knew that I was no match her incredible powers of seduction. She then lightly glided her tongue over my lips and the deal was done. First I simply said “yes” but in a moment she had me begging for the privilege.

She couldn’t resist mind fucking me though. I was informed that the kiss might not be what I was expecting. Yes, it could be pure bliss, but it could just as easily be a tight lipped encounter that I would hate. Was I still willing to enter into such a bargain knowing this? I said “yes” because at that point I was so mesmerized that I couldn’t imagine saying otherwise.

Then came the kiss…

Oh dear Lord, how amazing is it when one is put into such a state of mind numbing seduction, and then to have every prayer answered in the space of thirty seconds. It was heaven epitomized. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, but reality soon stepped in when she withdrew and rolled over. “Remember now slave, thirty minutes, and of course you do know what the slightest hesitation will cost you, right”? By this, she meant she’d double the punishment if I made so much as a peep.

I stripped, walked into the bathroom, knelt in my usual place and slowly stretched out on the ice like floor. Forcing my chest to make contact with the tile is a bit like plunging into the ocean, with one key difference. I never really do “get used” to the coldness of that tile, it just gets colder.

Five minutes passed, then ten, then twenty. Every muscle in my body was aching from fatigue and cold. I could have lessened the torment by stretching out my arms, but to unclasp them is forbidden. She knows how hard this is too. She’s fully aware that a whipping would be much more welcome than this kind of long term torment.

Another five minutes passed and then I heard the sound that would be music to any slave’s ears. The sound of my Mistress’s breathing becoming slower and more rhythmic. She had fallen asleep. I thought  back to the beginning of our D/s relationship, just a little over 2 years earlier. I wondered then if my loving, caring wife, who literally couldn’t harm a fly, could ever treat me as harshly as the slave I needed to be. Now I had my answer.

What better evidence of caviar, selfish, dominant ownership could there be than for a woman to be so detached and uncaring about her husband’s suffering, that she can fall asleep without a care?

Oh how I adore that woman with every fiber of my soul.