Saturday

I've been trying to write the experience of last Saturday for days now. It is difficult to write because I just can't get it to hold still or come into focus or take on any sort of reasonable sequence. It is a jumble to me -- like a pile of snapshots that I maybe dropped and can't make any sense out of at all...

Forgive me then, if this seems dreamy and confused; that's the reality for me on this one.

In very many ways, we are having to start from something close to the beginning and recreate our path together. Neither of us are as we were a year ago. That is the reality.

We remain linked. Bonded. Promised. Committed.

Exploring is sometimes exciting, but can also be awesomely scary. There are no maps for how to go forward into this realm if you are not young and "hot" and still able to respond in all the usual ways. There are enough messages to tell people who are "alternative" that they really ought to get in line and join the mainstream. When those same alternative people cross the river into "maturity," the drumbeat grows insistent and the incredulity that one encounters at almost every tunr is almost overwhelming: "what are people like you doing still DOING it?!?!?!?!" ARRRRRGH!

Oh well.

So.

Saturday morning we began to circle warily toward the center of sex and SM. It has been a place of defeat and disappointment for far too long. I've long since stopped expecting anything good or joyful to happen. I submit and serve, knowing that there is nothing there for me except the knowledge that I am giving Him pleasure. It is enough, but it is not what it was and we both know it. We both miss what used to be.

This time, He wasn't willing to let it go at that. He broke from our usual pattern and began to focus on my level of arousal. To be honest, my head wasn't in a great place to start with. I'm prone to let myself get into some pretty dark places... perhaps that can be grist for another post, but I was feeling low and wishing we could just get on with it. Of course, I didn't SAY any of that, thank goodness!

Eventually as the responsiveness He was looking for just did not materialize, He suggested that it seemed that what I needed might be nipple clamps. I heard Him, but wasn't sure whether He was serious or not. I simply waited to see what He wanted. It took Him a few minutes to ask where they were.

I had no idea. We haven't had them out for ages.

I thought that perhaps they might be in the basket on top of His dresser, or maybe in His top drawer. I really wasn't sure. After those two spots, I had a list in my head of a half dozen spots that I might need to look to hunt them down...

So, He suggested a "game:" He'd give me a good paddling and then send me off to find the nipple clamps. If they were in the basket, as I'd first suggested, I could bring them back to Him. If not, He'd paddle me again, and I could go look in the next place I'd mentioned, etc., etc., etc. He loves that sort of thing, you see.

He began with the Hanson Paddle that was my nemesis so early on in our relationship, and I struggled mightily to hang in even for the very beginning set. This was not a good sign. Then it was off to look through the basket...

No luck. Back for the first paddling. I got through the second set, and was off to hunt through the drawer. Only this time He asked me if I wanted the next set with the paddle or the cane. I told Him it didn't matter. I was already in despair because I had no clue about where the clips were and knew that this could go on and on and on. I was already verging on panic and we'd barely begun.

Perhaps He heard it because, even as I began to dig about in the drawer where He tosses bits and pieces of "guy junk," He opened a leather box that He keeps on top of the dresser, and there they were! The nipple clamps! Relief flooded through me in that instant!

"Did you know the whole time?" I asked Him, tearfully. He told me no, and I believed Him. I flew into His open arms for a hug, simply thrilled that they'd been found, and the whole long swirling list of places where I might have to go and hunt for them was swept away. I was giddy with the relief of it.

It was then that He reminded me that they hadn't been in the drawer where I'd thought they might be -- that He'd found them, and not me. So, of course, there would have to be the requisite paddling. Of course. But first, He wanted to put them on, so I climbed back into bed and tried to ready myself for what I knew would be the shock of clamps applied after so long...

Futile! There's no way to get ready for the suddeness of nipple clamps when they first bite on tender flesh; no way to ride through the burning -- it is what it is. I dropped almost instantly into the red, still, fire and simply lay there next to Him waiting for whatever would come next.

He waited for a bit and watched me I think, and then He asked me how they felt.

"They hurt. They burn," I told Him.

"How long do you want to wear them?" He asked.

"Not very long," I replied.

He told me then that all I could decide how long I would wear them. All I had to do to have them removed was ask Him to paddle me. Simple. But I was torn. I was afraid that if I asked too quickly, He would be disappointed in me; think I was wimping out. I didn't want Him to be angry with me. I didn't know what He wanted me to do; didn't know what to choose, or how to please Him. I told Him all of that, and He assured me that He would not be angry either way, that it was fine...

I waited a very little bit (I think), and then I asked, "Please paddle me, Sir." The clips were dreadful as they came off. Always that seems true. He commented that it seemed the first time in a long time that I'd asked for a paddling and really sounded sincere about it.

I think there was something said about taking the paddling like a good girl or being put in the stocks. I'm not sure. I know that threat came up sometime. Anyway, I was good this time. Near the end, something touched me and I spilled over into deep sobbing. He gathered me up and held me and rocked me and soothed me while the tears flowed as they would. Once I'd recovered a bit, He told me that I'd received the first set of three sets. Sometimes that sort of thing panics me, but I felt past the panic point somehow. I was wrapped around His voice and His words and His touch and the warmth of Him near me.

I think it was for this set that He told me to respond to every stroke with "Yours always and all ways." He began slowly at first, and with each smack I'd repeat, "Yours always and all ways, Sir!" I have no idea how long it went on. I only know that it seemed that things got faster, and that I was racing to keep up; speeding through those "Yoursalwaysandallways,Sir!"s as fast as I could go; gasping for breath; breathing Him in; focusing on the words and the sounds and the moments; not thinking at all really -- just being.

And somewhere along the line there were cane strokes. I think because they were lighter. Maybe. But I don't remember when or exactly how... because I know He told me that He was suspending the third set, so I just am not sure when the cane strokes came into it all. He told me that I could come to Him later in the day and ask Him for the rest of the paddling -- unless I wanted more now. "Did I want more?"

The voice I haven't found for a very long time; the energy that has been gone; the heart that has held itself apart spoke from deep within me with a strength and a clarity that I've thought gone for good: "Yes, please, Sir." Just that simple.

"Well, alright then!"

He began to paddle me again, and I was aware of the rhythm of it, but not much else -- only the percussion, and the sounds I could hear myself making, and the sense of rushing toward the edge... Then I was over and into the place where everything expands and goes liquid and quiet; the place where I can simply allow myself to be carried on the tide, knowing it is all fine and that He has me completely and securely in His control.

I never know much about what is beyond that point. I know when I come back, He is always there. I know that, this time, there was heat and soreness and blood. He told me I'd broken in many many places and it was clear the blood had splattered widely. I rested for a good bit, wrapped snugly against His chest. Content, quiet, easy.

Then we made love, and I achieved that most rare and elusive gift of release just at the moment that He was reaching His own climax.

Glorious!

swan