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Diary of a Pagan Sub

A little taste of my adventures, musings, life and no doubt the trouble I often get myself into

The Dark One
Postad:9 maj 2021 1:04 pm
Senast Uppdaterad:8 januari 2023 12:58 pm
4893 besök

I stir to an arm slipping underneath me and I snuggle into the warm familiar feel of Sir against my skin, a sigh of contentment on my lips. His hand caresses my breast as his other strokes my hair. I blink, no change, the darkness of the room a blindfold across my eyes. I lie there drifting back to sleep wrapped in the blanket and warmth of Sir

Then I feel it, too late to move, the hand on my hair is over my mouth and nose, pulling me into his chest, smothering my breath, the other leaves my breast, his arm seeking out my neck, holding me fast. In a split second my freedom and my air are gone, and so is Sir. He is here now…the one who comes in the night, the dark one, the silent one. I wait, and I wait, the deep breathing of my captor filling my ears as the fear starts to rise. The sound of his voice freezes me to the moment as I struggle and wriggle, as he kisses me, and holds me fast,”shhhh .” The familiar voice inside me fuels my fear, that maybe this time, I won't last. My mouth is released and I gasp, again and again, tears welling in my eyes. I know this is just the beginning, it always starts this way.

His hand moves to my hair and I feel the familiar gentle strokes as he calms me. “Shush, shhhh, his calmness chills me, and I can feel his hardness pressing into my spine. I try to relax, this is far from over, and as I do the hand on my hair grows firm, the fingers searching, circling. They close around my hair and pull and push me down, down until I am thrust on his cock, he bucks into me, forcing it to the back of my throat and I gag. I am held, no point in resisting, no point in struggling, I wait, how long will it be, before I am allowed to taste the air again. And it comes, too short, I gasp before I am thrust down, again and again, his hardness growing beyond my limits, stretching my mouth and my throat to take his fullness.

I am released and I cry out as I gasp at the night air, pulling myself away from him, grasping at the empty void for anything that will aid me, too late he is on me forcing me into the bed, deftly lifting my arms so I fall, face to the pillow. One hand holding my arm, the other hand under my neck straining my head back. His kisses are tender, calming, his hand firm and demanding. I turn my face and receive a slap for my effort, his hand closes over my jaw and my lips forced to respond. Tears run down my face as his gentle brush on my lips sends wave after wave through me. My clit responds, my heat rises, before he removes his hand and places it on my head, pushing me down into the pillow, no, no not this.

His hand is on my hair again stroking, calming, gentle, everything he is not, as his other cups my mouth to my protests, his body pressing hard against me, forcing me down into the bed. I am trapped, motionless, praying for release. In that endless moment between past and future, I can feel my heat building, the moisture seeping from me, my clit pulsing. Oh god please let me breathe. Somewhere deep, I feel the primal surge build…not long I think, not long and I will have control.

Before I can register the movement, I am yanked up, the pain in my head bids me follow, and once again I am thrust down, my mouth barely has time to open, one gasp of air is all he allows me. Again, and again, hard, forceful to his groans. His body moves and writhes, his torment of me arousing his deeper desires, I can feel my lips rubbing, feel my jaw aching under the strain, feel my nipples ache with fullness. I am smothered and hot, suffocating between the sheets, his cock hard and my arousal.

He tears at my hair again, his other hand reaching to cup my face as his cock releases me, spit and vomit poor from my mouth and nose before it closes onto them. I am fighting now, my primal core racing to the surface, shaking with fear and arousal. Too late, his leg is over me, he pulls me close, stroking my head, kissing me, so gentle, so much care as he steals another breath. First his hand on my mouth, then the other to my throat he switches, groaning and bucking into me as he does, a taste of air is all I get. I am lost between two worlds of fear and delight, my primal rage and passion fighting each other, do I battle, or do I surrender to my midnight Master…

My internal struggle has weakened me, and with a move, I am up, my ass high, my head thrust into the bed, held fast by his hand and he is in me, hard, hungry, demanding. I am pounded without mercy. My heat is ready to explode, I beg, nothing, again I beg until I cannot beg anymore. My breath held, my head held, desperate to stop myself Cumming. I know this game, this final act of cruelty, no release until my demon is spent. The pounding in my ears, my insides sore from the onslaught, my primal side retreating, my energy spent. All I can feel is my need, my desire, my fire, build and build. Tear’s flow, my sobs adding to his arousal, oh god, please.

I am like a firefly, franticly grasping for the light, and then I hear it, “You want to cum Pagan?” “Oh yes Sir, yes, please,” I beg. “Wait, wait for me.” I hold my breath, squeeze myself tight, grasping the bed for all I am worth …. hold Pagan, hold. Then I sense it, the rise, the swell, the familiar sounds, and I know the light is in front of me. I relax, I breathe, and I let it wash over me as I scream my release, and Sir fills me.

I am left to fall where I am. Every inch of my body twitching from my orgasm, my hair matted to my head, my breathing ragged, my throat and my insides still feeling the onslaught of his cock. Sirs cum running from me, snaking a path to the bed. My nerves tender. I am floating in a whirlwind of emotions and sensations. I cannot move. The darkness closes around me as I feel the quilt lifted over my spent form. A gentle kiss, a stroke of my head, a sigh as Sir settles into bed. I drift off into a wonderful in-between place of recall and rewind, reliving every delectable moment while my body calms and waits for sleep.
3 kommentarer
Aspiring Dom's
Postad:9 januari 2021 2:44 pm
Senast Uppdaterad:8 januari 2023 12:59 pm
5654 besök

So, this is no more than information, a gathering of thoughts for all you Doms there who are just starting , or maybe becoming frustrated that you cannot find the sub you desire.
However, you came to this wonderful world of kink is unimportant. What you do in it is.
Firstly, this is not vanilla, but it is also not just about play, scenes, and submission.
We hear from many Dom’s who want to know how our lifestyle works, what happens when we play and how lucky our Sir is. Very few ask what goes into it. And I say this, because there is a shit load that goes into it. The outcome that so many see on here, the pictures, the writings, the fun we have are the product of having an incredible Dom. And by that I don’t just mean he has a good imagination, or good at discipline or a good sadist. He is good at everything else. If you just want the end product, the scene, the quick fix and walk away, that’s fine. But, if you truly want to be a good Dom, then its time to go to .

Like everything in life, you will need to learn, a lot, about a lot of shit. You may hear about the way to claim a good sub is to claim their mind. Well, it may be a cliché but it is true. Sexual arousal starts in the brain. The physical result you get is dependent on what they are thinking and feeling. Have you pressed all the right buttons, have you stimulated them enough, and more to the point, how do they feel about you. Yes a sub is there to serve your wants and needs. But they are not just a toy you can put back in the box. If you crave the kind of connection that has them messaging you in the with random sexy photos, rather than it just being another task, or thinking up weird and wonderful ways to arouse you and make you smile while you are at work, then you need to gain their undying affection for you. To do this, you need to really listen, observe and put a lot of thought into what they want and need and how you can deliver this, not just in the moment, but daily.

Build the connections.
Are they happy? No, why and what can you do to help. Are they stressed at work? Listen to them, give them an outlet to let the worries of the world out. attention, experiment, take your time to really observe them during play. What works well, what elicits the responses that you and they enjoy. What combinations of pleasure, pain, degradation, care gain the greatest results. It is possible to keep a sub on the edge of arousal for days on end. Little texts, tasks, how you talk to them, what you say, how you say it. Through words alone you can arouse, excite, tantalise, and put fear into your sub.

Think….
long and hard about what you really want out of the dynamic. I say this because what people think they want and what they actually want are usually two different things. First there is the fantasy, then the reality, and often the second deflates the first. This is because you don’t break down your desires into their core components. You say, “I’m a sadist, I like to give my sub pain.” Fine, but why? What’s your trigger? Is it just as simple as wanting to hurt? Rarely. Often there is a deep underlying need that you are not prepared to …Again vanilla raises its ugly head, and you push it aside. Be open and honest with yourself. Knowing why you desire, and truly accepting it as normal in this world of unique individuality, will help you understand your core desires. This gives you power over your needs and wants, confidence to explore them free from vanilla constraints. With this comes knowledge, and the urge to learn more. Understanding yourself will help you get to the bottom of exactly what you want from a sub, and this will help you set your rules, protocols, wants, and needs.

Be patient.
It wont all happen instantly. Take your time. Build the anticipation. Get to know your sub, attention to their likes, hobbies, interests, here are a myriad of clues to what type of person your sub is. Learning what makes them tick, will eventually help you get into their head. But more importantly, you have to want to care for them. Having their well being as one of your primal needs has to be genuine. They are a prized position. One of the most important things in your life, because in their hands is the ability to give you your every heart’s desire. You can’t give it to yourself, you need them. You need food, you could, eat any old crap, but you will eat what you desire, and for it, sometimes handsomely. Other times you pick it, painstakingly prepare it, cook it and serve it, before devouring it. In a similar way, you desire a sub, you want to enjoy it, time and time again. You want it to worship you, adore you, submit to your desires and thank you for everything you do to it. So, take care in your choice, way your options, prepare it with care and thought, keep it in its best environment, and then when it is time to devour it, the feast will be exquisite and a menu you can repeat over and over again.
4 kommentarer
Diary of a Pagan Sub Chapter 2 14-17
Postad:17 december 2020 3:43 pm
Senast Uppdaterad:17 december 2020 3:46 pm
4630 besök

14-year-old pagan has her first serious boyfriend and loses her virginity to a left behind heart throb. But that is for tomorrow, time for bed and dreams of red tresses and the deepest of blue eyes.

So lets just go back a bit. 11 year old pagan also had a bit of an identity crisis. She hated being pagan. The rituals, the lessons, the stigma that went with it all. She just wanted to be normal, whatever that was, and she soon realised her idea of normal was way different from everyone else’s. Or, to be precise, everyone outside of her family. So by 14 she was a bit of a rebel. She had developed her own gothic style of dress and demeanour. She had become someone you either loved, hated or feared. If you cant escape your path, you can at least use it to your advantage. And she did. School was to be tolerated, used to hone her personal skills, how to get what she wanted, use what she had and take what she needed. Everything a pagan was not.
One day while scouring through old clothes pagan finds the telephone number of G (we are working on a full alphabet here). Memories flooded back, 12-year-old pagan at karate, staring over the balcony at the most amazing brown eyed boy. Obviously, the boy soon became attached to her and, and her lips. She felt, complete, L and G both gave her a sense of, well, having her cake and eating it. So when her inconsiderate parents whisked her away to the depths of the wilderness called Wales, she was devastated, and there was the start of the rebellion. Finding Gs number sealed the fate of young pagans’ virginity, and a new pagan started to emerge.

Now, I am not going to get into the argument of right or wrong. Nor am I going to go into any details even though it is my story to tell, it is still about a child and I do not want the moderators slapping me on the wrist again. So lets just say, it was uneventful and unfulfilling and led young pagan on a quest to find a better teacher. And she did just that and learned so much more than her young heart throb could ever have taught her. Again, no judgements, or discussion on morals or the psychology of it. I look back at those days still with a glint in my eye and a fond memory of just how satisfying it was, to get what I wanted and to be able to do it.
So, one boyfriend and one lover down and apart from torturing the kids at school, pagan’s life moves on rather uneventfully until she reaches 17.’ AH’ had become her on and of boyfriend, and ‘SH’ was her girlfriend. Life was normal. A few rituals here and there, a few curses, a couple of spells when needed and a circle of good friends who ‘got her’. The only thing missing was a good sex life. Was it no more interesting than eating a bar of chocolate? Was she normal to feel so fucking horny all the time?
Now AH Was a good boyfriend, great at manoeuvring his way round the parents, good for a night on the town, and had a bit of street cred. But, the bedroom was, well, boring. And, he had a bit of a jealous streak that suffocated wild pagan. Until, that is, she learned how to use it to her advantage. One night after the usual ‘watch me play snooker boys’ routine, that gave her some amount of amusement for an otherwise boring mid-month Friday night, pagan was in yet another argument with AH over her behaviour. Yeah yeah, same old same old. This time he had had enough of her flirting, this time he was putting his foot down. Pagan looked at him, he was going nowhere, she knew that, but dam he looked hot when he was cross.
She smiled and turned to walk away, an arm reached out to grab her, spun her round, and as it did she responded almost instinctively with a slap, right across his face, just as the word slut escaped his lips. It wasn’t the first time, for the use of slut or the slap, but this time, he slapped her back, hard, too hard, pagan fell to her ass. She giggled, looked at him and smiled, now this was more like it. She hustled to her feet and straightened her tight dress as she looked into the face of one very angry boyfriend. Before she could stop herself the words tumbled off her lips, “is that all you have big boy? My dog hits harder than that. “The next slap was harder, much harder. As she recoiled off the chair, she felt the hand, fingers pinched at her skin as it pulled her towards him and down on top of his knee. A clump of hair in one hand, he held her head down into the big old chair, the other hitched up her dress and pulled at her panties. He was rough, unforgiving to her yelps and the first spank hurt way more than she was expecting. This was not his hand, this was his shoe.

Pagan struggled, wriggled, tried to bite his leg, her blood boiling, the primal bitch coming out to play. She spat at him, kicked, screamed. He kept on hitting. Inside a fire was burning, she could feel it, and she could feel the hardness in his pants growing. He yanked her up by her hair and into a crouch before him, his other hand slipped deftly round her neck and pushed her down to the floor. Off balance she fell, and he followed, crushing into her chest. His breath was rasping, his free hand tearing at her dress, she could feel the material cut into her skin as it gave way. She pummelled him, pushed at his jaw, dug in her nails, andhe squeezed tighter. Her whimpers went unheard. He wrenched at her panties until they snapped as he forced his leg between hers. His hands found her clit, he laughed as he played with the moisture there. “Mmmm, not so feisty, now are we?” She moved her head away and he yanked it back. “Look at me bitch, look at me while I take what’s mine.” Her eyes were wide, her nipples ached, and she bit her lip…oh hell yes, this, is definitely more like it.

That set the benchmark for Pagan. Nothing less than that night’s sex was worth entertaining. But as life goes on she learns to settle. Not yet sure what ‘that nights’ sex was, she had no way to look for it. One vanilla relationship down, she dabbled in kink with a few friends. Two down and she found her first Master…M...and learned what she did and did not like, and how to control the feral bitch inside. But paths lead her to yet another Vanilla relationship. All these she wore well, as a pagan should. Her responsibility to go where Origin sends her.
A bit of magic here, a mix of herbs there, bringing people together, supporting, helping, listening. Making connections, putting things right, and then when it all got too serious, and they got to demanding and possessive, Pagan would run, start again, waiting for the next path to open.

Until the last time. No more, enough, vanilla sucks, or she sucks at vanilla, either way the only release she finds is in kink. Its easy, uncomplicated. Leave your emotions at the door. Give your devotion and receive what you want. Simples. Until, she started to help newbie subs find their feet and was tasked with finding subs for her Dom. Easy, until he too got possessive and threatened to leave his wife for her. She felt no affection for him that way, and so she ran from him too.

What was she supposed to do now? Vanilla and kink had both let her down. The only good thing to come out of the last D/s was Helen. Helen was a jewel. A rough diamond, one of the rare ones. Spirited, strong, and full of life, so much that it shone out of her like a blinding beacon. Helen, she would not give up on. This was one friendship she wanted to travel the boundaries between worlds. Helen was special.
0 kommentarer
Diary of a Pagan Sub.......8 to 14
Postad:11 november 2020 4:26 pm
Senast Uppdaterad:8 januari 2023 1:00 pm
5345 besök

I want to introduce you all to my sub sister sugar. I have written an introduction, I have mulled it over, and over, and I’m still not happy with it. I think its because its not time to write it yet. Things have a habit of just…flowing for me, and its not flowing yet. My head however, is screaming at me to write about… me! The real me.

Now this is new, I don’t usually feel the need to poor out my life to just anyone, especially hundreds of people online. But, I think, an introduction is at least in order. So, here goes, Ill try and keep it short, or, short for me anyway!

Hello, I am Pagan Dawn

I am a pagan. Yes, I’m actually a pagan. My family has history way back, way too long a story to bore you all with. But let’s just say, I am the matriarch of my pagan family. I am the go-to when things fuck up, the sorter of messes, the shoulder for tears, and the teller of truths when truths need to be told. I am also the healer of ills, calmer of minds, and watcher of hearts. A lot of responsibility and a lot of control and order needed in my life. I need to be strong, resilient, resourceful, and empathic, and understanding. A tall order for a large family. And to boot, I have an incredibly stressful, demanding, and slightly risky job.

I am also sub. Now, to be in control 24/7, on-call to all, constantly keeping up with the drama of a large family, and there is always a lot of drama, plus my job, is exhausting. To the point where I often feel like I am suffocating. Then, a message pings on my phone and I stop to look. It is Sir asking how my day is going, and everything melts into the background. I arrive at our meet and leave my vanilla life at the door; I hear his voice and a thousand thoughts going through my head are quiet. He is there, always, even in my vanilla his collar is a reminder of who I belong to, who controls me, who I obey. And in that comfort, I find my release, my quiet space, my freedom. I give to him all that I am, leaving nothing for worry, stress, tension or pressure.

Now, that’s not to say I’m no trouble. I am pagan. We are mischievous by nature, cheeky, and very opinionated. Me, well I am an empath, I feel other’s feelings, I emanate them, feed off them and fuel them. I love to dance, flirt, and have fun. I love life…period. And I am sensual, so very sensual, and always, always horny.

So how did I know I was kinky? Let’s just say, it was a long time ago.

8-year-old Pagan, lying in her bed, discovers the joy of masturbation, and the thrill of keeping it secret.

11-year-old Pagan discovers that playing the daddy in mommies and daddy’s games can be fun. My first kiss is to a girl. A flaming redhead I will not name (in case I opened her mind and she is on here) let’s just call her L. Oh my her eyes were so wide, her lips so warm and soft like candyfloss. In this particular ‘let's pretend’ I was about to kiss her goodbye to go off to work, dressed in my too-big hat and shoes, a stuffy old jacket that smelt like a stale sailor, sleeves rolled up, and heavy tweed pants held up with a musty old leather belt. It was just a peck on the cheek until she flicked her head too soon and it became a full smack on the lips. I gazed into her eyes, partially hidden under red tresses, and the corners of my kiss lifted into a smile as I saw them glinting back at me. We held hands and stared at each other over many evenings after that until I moved away. My first love, my first heartbreak.

14-year-old pagan has her first serious boyfriend and loses her virginity to a left-behind heart throb. But that’s for tomorrow, time for bed and dreams of red tresses and the deepest of blue eyes.
1 kommentera
Sir....What Sluts get
Postad:7 october 2020 11:01 am
Senast Uppdaterad:10 juni 2021 12:35 pm
6079 besök

What sluts get

A good week? I think so, I ponder as I pack. A little teasing…yes, a little flirting…yes, but Sir knows that is just me, it was on my profile, after all, I was blunt about what I am. I frown and nibble my lip, last weekend was a stark lesson that Sir was not to be trifled with, and yet, here I am about to do it again! I do not mean to be bad, or mischievous, it is just me, I get a thrill out of teasing and flirting. I hear my mum’s words in my head as I look up at the Dress, “you child, are a caution. “I smile, reach for the dress, and fold it neatly into the case. Yes, mum, I am. I had over the years learned that I could pretty much get whatever I wanted, with the right male, with nothing other than what I was born with. I also learned it could be dangerous too, and obsession was only one step away from desire. But here I was again, playing on the dangerous side. This one, I thought, was worth the risk.

I closed the zip, slapped the case, done I heaved a sigh, almost ready. This week Sir would find out his demure, feminine kitten had just a little more to her. I am a good sub, yes, but I want, no, need to flirt, and dance and tease as much as kneel and serve and obey. I could offer so much more if allowed too. Sir was a lifestyle Dom, and they are the hardest to work out because everything they are is natural, not learned or researched or discussed, it’s just who they are, naturally. But, for the first time in a long time, I wanted my Dom to see and embrace all of me, he had got to places inside me that others had failed too, he had manipulated me expertly, his control was subtle but inventive and unyielding. He deserved to know I was not the perfect prim little sub I had been, he deserved to see the strong-willed, opinionated, flirty, cheeky, teasing little slut I could be. It was a risk, he may not like this side of me, but, he must be wondering by now, just when that minx was going to come out to play, and I needed to know if he could control her. He felt worthy, I needed to know he was before I surrendered the parts of me, I kept so closely hidden and protected. So, standing and looking in the mirror I smile my best sexy lip biting, eye staring smile and raised my head…here we go Pagan, let’s give Sir a taste of the rest. My nipples tingle at the thought and I smile again as I turn on my heels.
As I drive, I thought back to the conversation, how I had slipped in the incident with the dress. I had had a previous engagement for the weekend and we would have to wait another week to meet, this apparently was unacceptable and Sir decides he would have to come down mid-week, two weeks was too long a wait to see his sub. I bite my lip, remembering the only mark against me this week was the Video. I had to record myself playing and the video recording did not save…Sir was not happy, but he seemed to have got over it, and for the rest of the mid-week meet we chatted, fucked and I brought the conversation round to the dress. I knew he would not be able to resist wanting to see it, and initially, I was a bit disappointed he only wanted pics, but I would take it anyway. I had been propositioned in that dress, it barely covered my ass cheeks and the layered material shimmied as I walked and accentuated every curve. My long legs looked longer and the highest of heels finished it off. No jewelry or adornments were necessary it just needed to be worn right. In the end, he had said bring it and I had been happy to oblige, another grin crossed my lips, hopefully, he would get to see what I could do in the dress too. I had for months over lockdown been practicing my type of dance, sexy heels, chairs, I had put my hips to good use and worked hard. I was hoping for a bit more time to perfect it, but tonight, if I was lucky would be a good night. The thought of teasing Sir with a lap dance brought instant wetness to my pussy and I clenched, mmmm, yes, I was so fucking horny. Tonight, tonight I was hoping Sir would get a taste of just what he had let himself in for. Tonight, the girl was locked away, and the vixen was out to play.

I arrive on time, now negotiating the mad streets like a true city chick. I park, Sir is running a little late, so I saunter off to the shop for a bit of food and drink. Ambling into the foyer the manager greets me as a familiar face, and I walked past to the lounge chairs, noticing eyes follow me as I go. The Native is starting to feel like my weekend home, and I amaze myself at how easily I have slipped into the new weekend routine. I walk to where Sir sits, he is on the phone. I wait, standing until he beckons me to sit. “Please Sir, can I just nip to the ladies?” “Can you wait Pagan, till we are upstairs?” “Yes Sir.” I am desperate, but eager to please, especially as I have still failed to get the video to play. We chat for a couple of minutes and I am given the key card and instructions and we make our way to the apartment. This weekends is bigger, roomier I note as I enter the hall, I amble off to the bedroom, passing the toilet with longing. I strip as ordered and inert my tail, fuck the plug is cold and I stifle a laugh as I put on my ears. My nipples have responded, and they tighten and tingle, Its slightly chilly, but I have a feeling I will not be cold for long.
I crawl to the lounge and position myself on the pillow in front of Sir, flicking my tail behind me as I do. I observe my surroundings. The food and water bowl neatly positioned against the wall by the table. The blanket and matching pillow spread on the floor, the litter tray, tucked away in the corner of the room, oh god please, please let there not be a crate!!! To my relief, there is no crate. I sigh as I kneel before my Sir.
This is all new, we play, I am a kitten and he has me chase my toys, eat, and drink from my bowl and, for my first time ever, pee in a litter tray. So at least I know why I was not allowed to use the toilet. When you are desperate, and after chasing a mouse around for half an hour, anything will do! On the plus side, I get to tease, flirt, and be disobedient, as any little kitten would be. I scratch and bite and refuse to return my toys. I’m enjoying this very much. I can see the appeal now as once again my ass is given a playful slap for splashing the ball into my water bowl. I giggle my dirtiest laugh and Sir shakes his head as I splash the water bowl again and scramble off out of the reach of his descending hand.

We laugh and giggle and Sir leans in towards me as I kneel with my head on his lap. Stroking my hair he asks ever so softly…” Do you believe Pagan, that no matter what happens, I will always make sure you are safe in the end?” I think, unsure where this has come from, but his hand is soft and reassuring, no tension is detected…I answer honestly, “Yes Sir.” He lifts my chin, “Truthfully Pagan, this is important to me, I need to to know, no matter what you will always be ok.” “ Yes Sir, Yes I do, I trust you.” And I mean every word. Sir kisses me and then I am ordered to change. New dress, new bodice Sir had bought me, now is my chance. I leave my phone at the side of the TV and go to change, excited and just a bit nervous. I return in Sir's chosen dress for the evening, the highest of heels, my stockings just peeking below the hem and my hair loose around my shoulders. Sir admires me as I turn for him and smile through my lightly bitten lip. And as if by magic Sir comments that the only thing missing was a lap dance. I gleam, my eyes dance, and my lip curls. I can feel myself moisten at the thought. “Would Sir like a lap dance?” A nod and a grin say it all. I flip on the music I had saved on my phone. ‘I bring me’ starts to play, and I walk away towards the wall. My hips move to the rhythm, my ass shakes, and I turn to walk to Sir, slowly, sexily, each step to the beat, and with a hunger in my eyes. For the next 10 minutes, Sir is mine, trapped in my snare, held fast, grounded to the chair by my grinding and shaking and swinging of hips. I slowly remove my dress, one shoulder at a time, I turn and slip it down inch by inch, turning as it finally drops to my ankles revealing the bodice under. I see the desire build as I disobey protocols and stare into his eyes, giving him, that look, boldly, smugly before I drop in front of him. Legs wide, squatted, I snake my way up his body, eyes fixed on his, my cheekiest grin highlighted by the brush of my tongue as I continue to move upwards. Eyes still fixed, body pressing against his, I brush his nose, as I lift myself and run my breasts up his face. I lower my warm wet pussy down to his crotch, legs spread to his sides and I move over him, his hands held to his sides, my chest just out of his reach, I dance and arch myself away from him, revealing my wetness as I lie back exposed. Then I lift again, flip and I am moving my ass towards him, flicking it from side to side. I can hear him, feel his heat, his desire building.
As I walk away giggling, I turn off the music, I am surprised and delighted. His face says it all, but his control and composure are impeccable. Why I am not on the floor under him by now I do not know. That was good, his face and his heart rate say it was good, so why?

He raises saying he needs some fresh air; I can see the sweat on his face. As he leaves the room, I turn to prepare tea and run the evening so far through my head. I had done good, I knew I had, I read his response well, but his control and how little he had touched me this evening mystified me, a thought strikes me and I look around the room, there were no toys, non, no ropes, no harness, no restraints, nothing? Its time to put on the dress.
I hear the door open and I take a breath in, hoping he will understand why I am not on my knees as he enters. I steel a glimpse at his face, I can see that look in his eyes again, maybe tea was not such a good idea while I’m wearing this, I turn on my heels and fake a courtesy, he admires me. “Yes, I can see how you would get propositioned in that” he comments as he has me walk and turn for his pleasure. “ Mmmm It certainly shows you in a different light Pagan, in fact,” he sighs as he lowers himself to the table and I serve him, “the whole night has opened my eyes to a different side of you.” I smile mischievously, Oh yes, it’s working.

We eat and chat as protocols are lifted and then Sir leaves for another cigarette and I start the clear up. My phone rings and I pick it up, its Sir! What the fuck! He never calls!! “Hi Pagan, check your messages please, “and he is gone. I look at my WhatsApp. ‘Pagan I would like you to join me for some fresh air. Remove all your underwear and keep the dress on. Meet me outside the side door, Sir.’ Fuck. I scramble out of my underwear and return the dress. Dam this is so short, it barely covers my ass! What is he playing at? I glance in the mirror, fuck. I can feel my tight nipples brushing against the thin fabric, the draft through my legs, flowing over my moist lips…dam. I needed a release so bad, why was he making me wait? How, how was he going to keep resisting? I turn on my heels and walk to the door,” head up girl, you’ve handled worse, let's do this.” I grin, lick my lips and head out.
Sir takes my hand and we walk. I am conscious of everything. The air is warm, the wind, teasing, the street full of the sounds of nightlife. He leads me along the pavement, the pace to brisk for my heels and I struggle to keep my poise as we head away from town. My confusion is growing as Sir starts to talk in his calm collected voice. “You like the apartments Pagan, the restaurants, the gifts, the comforts?” “yes Sir?” Shit where was he going with this, I stumble, and Sir continues onward as I try and regain my balance, pulling me closer. “This, “he says gesturing towards the dress, “is what sluts wear Pagan, this,” again at my attire, “does not get nice apartments or fancy restaurants.” “No Sir”, OH fuck what was he doing. I can feel my nerves rising as the grip of his hand on mine becomes uncomfortable and insistent. The pavement takes a turn to the right, aged streetlights make it difficult to navigate my heels, my eyes unable to dart away from the pavement long enough to observe my ever-growing quieter and darker path. My nipples are hard and sensitive, but from the arousal of my condition or the fear building somewhere deep inside I cannot tell. The draft flowing between my thighs still meeting with enough moisture to chill my thighs and keep me alert to my arousal. Girl, what the fuck is wrong with you, seriously, now!
“Sluts, Pagan,” Sir pulls me harshly forward, I stumble and his arm is round me, steadying me, then his hand is on my shoulder, gripping tightly as he continues, “ sluts get dark streets and back alleys, they don’t deserve the good things you enjoy.” I gasp as he moves me off the pavement and onto the road. I see the van, parked near a tree, alone, isolated, on a crummy little insignificant car park. I brace myself and dance my eyes over the scene, no voices, no street life, no footsteps accept our own, no light other than a distant streetlight and the white of the van. Sirs hands are firm, ushering me forwards as I start to resist. “Sluts, Pagan, get taken in places like this, this is what they deserve.” Fuck, not here, not behind some crummy van in a dark alleyway, no, not me, outside is one thing but this is …. awful. I resist again, my fear subsides a little and I can feel the vixen starting to stir deep inside, if Sir wants to take me here, he will get a fight. We are behind the van now, Sir pushes me against it as he continues to tell me what a slut I am… the indicator lights flash on the van as he squashes me into the doors…shit...I giggle, the alarm will go off, and then…

The Van door opens, oh fuck, Sir's hand on my shoulders, gripping firmly, no, fuck hell NO. “Pagan, get in, GET IN!!.” I am bundled in the van, the door closes before I have time to turn, I am scrambling to my knees as Sir pushes past and I am thrust forward and face down. I hear his voice as I turn in the dark, tears starting to well, scrambling for the door…” Don’t try and run Pagan, this will happen one way or another, this is what sluts deserve.” I grab for the door, searching for a handle, my heart is racing, I feel trapped, claustrophobic, I need to get out. The light goes on and I am blinded, I jump as his hands take hold and drag me backward and to my feet, my heels catch on the van floor and I have no choice but to lean on him for support, he takes his chance and I am against something. My eyes start to focus, I see the van roof, and ropes, clips, I watch as my hands are secured into then unable to resist, I am in a daze, disbelief at what is happening to me. I am straddled against my cold metal captor and unsteady, struggling to keep my balance and stop the ropes from digging in my wrists. Sir falls silent, as he always does when he prepares me, fuck, calm yourself, breathe. Tears flow.
My head is jerked back, his hands rough and unforgiving, my neck stretched as I hold the ropes to stop them biting. His other hand holds my jaw and slaps my face, “this is what sluts get Pagan. This he moves his hand down my body towards my sprawled legs, this, is for my eyes only.” Oh, fuck, “Yes Sir…yes Sir” His hand slaps my pussy, hard, I flinch. He releases my head hard against my captor. A rustle and then he is back, lifting my dress, “this” SLAP, I jump, fuck, “is mine, Pagan.” SLAP I wince, he is not holding back, shit, if he is starting off this hard, where the fuck is he going with it nerves rise, I feel the fear growing and the vixen retreating to her warmth deep inside as the heat swells between my legs. I bury my head and wait for the next blow, my nipples pushed into the cold steel…you are one twisted fuck girl….” Yes Sir, your's Sir” and the blows reign down.
I twist my head, searching for a hint of what is to come next, my damp hair is sticking to my face, my breath is ragged, I can feel the tension building in Sir, feel his desire, taste it. My nipples are aching, and my pussy is crying out. The pain in my ass burning as Sir switches the tools of my torture, he grabs my head again. “Who does this belong to Pagan? Who owns this?” Sir shakes my head hard as he tugs at the dress, “You Sir, it belongs to you.”
The cane swishes against my skin…
”This”
swish
”is”
swish
”mine”
swish.
“What are you pagan?” “I’m a slut, Sir.” “Who’s slut, Pagan?” “Your slut Sir.” “Yes pagan, and this is for my eyes only?” “Yes Sir.” The blows keep coming, I am getting close, I need to cum, how the fuck do I ask when he is so intent on this lesson. Them the blows stop, and as if he knows, they start again, the paddle hitting my pussy square on, pulling a cry from my lips. Again, and again he strikes, mercilessly, with intent, I beg, he pulls my head back, “what was that Pagan?” “Please, Sir.” Thrusting my head into my captor he is behind me, and in me…hard, fast and relentless, I can hear his breathing, the desire, lust and I burst, I cannot hold, burying my head into the leather head of my metal restraint I let out a cry as Sir issues one last warning as he releases. “This… is mine.” I sigh and smile to myself, I think he likes!

I whimper as he releases me. My feet unsteady, trembling still, he rubs my wrists as I sink to my knees and he holds me. His hand brushing my face, his lips on my lips, and we stay there for what feels like an eternity. When I am ready, we stumble out of the van and he leads me once more by the hand, this time gently, softly, and slowly back to the Native. The air is crisp, the street quiet. I shiver against the breeze as it sweeps over my damp skin. He hugs me, and we chat.
The shower is hot and the sex more sensual as Sir takes his fill while the water tingles my spine. He washes me, I wash him, dry him, and several glasses of wine and a shit load of chocolate later we are snuggled up for the night. I lay in Sirs arms and look at the bricks on the ceiling. I am, exhausted, but content. I ponder over the night. I had my agenda, he had his. My lesson was learned, but I learned another lesson, one I would not forget. This was no longer a game, a play or a scene. This was real and Sir was not to be messed with. My shaman niece had warned me when I asked her for a reading…Behave with this one Pagan, he will not tolerate your games. You have met your match. I smiled, closed my eyes, and looked forwards to the mornings' relaxed atmosphere. Finally, it took me long enough!

Epilogue..
I promise no more long chapters. From here we take a turn and I will introduce you to my sister sub. I am still writing with length, but with other intentions for it. And to be honest, there is so much fun to come… well, you will see, I will leave you breadcrumbs, there is enough to go round.
2 kommentarer
Sir will always be Sir
Postad:25 augush 2020 6:32 am
Senast Uppdaterad:25 augush 2020 6:33 am
6232 besök
How could I forget so easily I cursed as I stepped into the lounge…”? When?” I asked myself as I looked around me, “when will you learn sub?” My eyes danced over the scene, and it was just that, a scene, from some dark movie, shown in a dark cinema, down some long-forgotten seedy back street. The windowsill with its red, aged brick and light blue window beautifully and dramatically exhibiting the black leather toys of Sir. Flitting to the table in front of it, bathed in the sunlight streaming through the window a clasp glistened, attached to tightly fastened strap that sported carefully tied rope restraints. I felt a tickle between my legs and clenched myself, the wetness slipped from me, shit. My eyes caught the sofa, cream rope restraints hung over either end as if they were a fixture, carefully selected to match and accompany the suite. My nipples responded to my arousal and tightened some more, their erect shape showing though my t shirt screaming pinch me. The wetness seeping into my panties. I couldn’t resist. I slipped a hand into the top of my leather skirt and into my pants, so moist, so warm. I wasn’t allowed to play, but nothing was said about a taste, mmmmm, I Slipped my fingers into my mouth, I did taste good. How much pain was there going to be I wondered…the thought bringing more warmth between my legs as I turned to leave the room…and I stopped dead.

The sound of my bag slamming on the floor jolted me back from my thoughts and I closed my mouth. Not taking my eyes of the tall blue metal pillar I took out my phone, snapped a couple of shots and added a quick text…
” If I don’t call you by 4pm tomorrow, send for the undertaker lol.”
“Fuck, seriously!” came the reply.
I giggled and looked up at the pillar again, fuck this was so hot. I walked over slowly, conscious of my ever-growing wetter panties, and kicked the chain at the bottom of the pillar as I looked up at the perfectly tied wrist restraints hanging from a tightly secured strap, their soft cream rope contrasting against the cold blue metal pillar. I brushed my hand against the surface, ice cold, and a shudder ran through me. Fuck, dam, he gave me 10 minutes. I rushed to the bedroom where I had left my suitcase and hastily got out of my shoes and threw my bag down. Skirt off, top off, quick loo trip and a freshen up. Back in the lounge I found the box as instructed and after putting on my play collar hastily put on the wrist and ankle cuffs and shuffled back to the hall hampered by the chains connecting the two. I positioned myself on my knees, ass to the door, proud, with my head on my hands, on the floor, and waited, the cold air flitting over my drooling pussy and my exposed lips…fuck I was so dam horny.

Not knowing how long I have left I allow my mind to wander and find some release from the anticipation my body is throwing at it. Drifting back over the week I try and focus on all my infringements. I had taken some liberties this week, a little cheek here, a bit there, and then there was the granny knickers argument, so funny. I was not going to wear granny knickers for a punishment, it was not going to happen, ever! “I am putting granny knickers on my hard limits list Sir,” I had joked, even sent a pic of me walking past M&S just to prove a point “Wont be shopping there any time soon Sir,” I joked with the accompanying text. Sir knew it was banter right? That it was just a bit of fun? I was making a chastity belt for him, what purpose would granny knickers serve! Surely not worth all the ropes and restraints. Surely half of them where to worry me, put me off guard.


I hear the click of the outer door and raise my ass, the handle turns and a bigger draft of air wafts over my exposed pussy as the door closes again. Sir is here, I am quivering all over again, my nerves start to shred. A sigh, god I hate it when he does that, so unsettling, then his hand is on my ass, circling my cheeks one at a time, fingers run over my moist clit and lips and a small slap accompanies them. My senses train in on Sir, I hear his breathing, his sighs, the sound of his hand as it trails down my back towards my neck before taking a handful of my hair and pulling my head to the side. I lower my eyes, nerves twitching, this was not the easy-going Sir...I am pulled sharply off the pillow and he grabs it with the other hand, and I am tugged again. “Come Pagan, keep up, “that voice torments me, no sign of what is to come, just the distinct air of authority waving over me from Sirs direction, my pillow drops to the floor and I am pushed forward onto it. I quickly assume my position and swallow hard, wishing I had had another glass of wine. I am… just a little afraid!

I hear him pottering around and sighing to himself, god this silence is deafening. “Up Pagan,”I stumble to my feet. Sir turns me by my shoulders, and I am facing the pillar…oh god. My nipples react instantly, and I gasp, fuck, I resist as he pushes me forward. “Pagan, stop! This is going to happen, that you have no choice in, so stop struggling.” Fuck, his words, so calm, so confident…I can feel my frustration rising. How, how can words have this affect on me? I am so fucking wet. One last struggle, Sirs body pressing against me, holding me as my wrists are secured in the ropes…I am so close to the pillar my nipples are pushed against the cold hard steel and the ripples of arousal are waving through me like a fucking train. My head is in turmoil, I want this, I hate that I want this, I love this, I hate that he gets me like this with so little fucking effort! Dam.. The cold steel round my ankles brings me back to the moment as my feet are tapped to move closer to the pillar. I oblige, resigned once more to the realisation that I am helpless before him, again.

“So, Pagan,” Sirs voice snaps me from my self pity and chastisement. “Can you remember what you said when I asked you to describe Sir in 5 words?” Fuck. “Sir, Handsome, skilled, strong, controlling, err? Sir” “Mmm, yes Pagan, something along those lines. And in all those words what is missing Pagan? Do you know?” Oh god, I hate these questions, what the fuck have I forgotten. I picked words that I thought would keep me safe! He is all of them and so much more, how the fuck was I supposed to pick? “No, Sir.” A sigh… “Disciplined Pagan, disciplined.” Shit, I can feel the wetness seeping from me, the cold steel starting to warm from my body as I grasp the pillar to steady myself from falling backwards, Sir testing the ropes as he talks to me, so close, I can feel his breath. He knows I can’t struggle, or the ropes will pull he knows I cannot let go or I will fall backwards, my feet, chained so close to keep me unstable. I have no choice but to hold on, pressed against the pillar…and yet, he still checks them, bringing himself so close to me, smelling my hair as he does so…revelling in his victory as I am once again in his snare. My clit is screaming to be touched, my pussy full and ready but I have a feeling it will be a while before I get my release.
“You have seen the nice Sir, the kind Sir, the caring Sir Pagan, and in return you have challenged my authority, refused to accept my rules.” Oh crap! “Teasing Sir, refusing to accept my decisions.” A sigh, as I turn my head to see what he is doing and catch a glimpse of him over my the window, shit! “If Sir says you are to wear granny knickers, you will. Putting them on your hard list to avoid punishment is, not acceptable. Sulking, is not acceptable.” Another sigh as my body jumps to the sound of a slap and my pussy tightens in anticipation. “Now, Pagan, you will see the other side of Sir. The not so nice and caring Sir.” Oh god, a twinge of fear runs over me. How far would this go? My mind recovering what I had seen, the pillar, the table, the sofa, the windowsill. How many toys had Sir put out? Shit, fucking all of them!!! And…I had pushed, fuck I had pushed and teased and joked and, dam, I had stepped over the line, and right now, I was feeling fucking embarrassed, shamed, vulnerable and yes, a little scared. This, this side of Sir was uncharted territory. Sir leans in to me, brushing my hair from my face, running his fingers down my neck and pulling my head back to nuzzle my nose and plant so soft kisses on my dry lips, oh dam! His voice, soft, firm unyielding …”You have your safe words Pagan?” “Yes, Sir?” His hand brushes my hair and then his fingers brush against my mouth, “Good girl.” Oh hell, oh hell, I start to struggle, my breathing harder, faster, I am starting to sweat from the heat building within, the anticipation stifling…fuck I actually feel like I might cum!!!!

SMACK…fuck, the crop comes down hard against my ass cheek and I stifle a wince into the pillar. Another and another, the crop reigns down on my ass, dancing from side to side relentless. I barely have time to catch my breath between swipes, my hands eager to fist and clench but stuck open and grasping on the pillar. I twist my legs, trying to hide my ass as he switches sides. SMACK.. more reign down on me, my ass is on fire now, no nice hands circling to soothe it, a flick of the crop against my thighs indicating I am to open them, oh god no, I am wet enough, please. The crop contacts my clit and I am biting down hard on my lip. Again and again it flicks against my pussy until I am writhing and wriggling away from it, desperate to hold on. Not a sound from Sirs lips apart from the occasional sigh. And then, “Some Doms like their subs to count each strike, that does not concern me, others like their subs to ask for forgiveness, I quite like that idea. “ Swoosh…another crop lands against me, “Im sorry Sir, please I am so sorry, forgive me Sir, please.” I can feel a tear starting to well up in my eyes, NO, no I wont fucking cry, not a chance…Swoosh, ah fuck…”Sir please I am sorry, it wont happen again, I promise.”

He is on me, leaning in and brushing my hair out of my wet face. “I don’t get any pleasure from this Pagan.” Like fuck you don’t, my silent voice scream at him. “But it is necessary, you see that don’t you? Sir must be obeyed.” Yes Sir, I am sorry, Sir, please I am sorry.” His hands reach up to the ropes, teasing them open. I am free and he is holding me, I am so close to Cumming, I am aflame inside and yet still, I will not beg, I will not give him a tear, I am sorry, truly I am, but I will not give him everything, I cant…”Kneel.” Sir indicates towards the sofa, shit, really, no rest! “Sir?” the word escapes my lips betraying my unease and disbelief, “Sir!” “Now Pagan,” and I am scrambling onto the sofa, my hands deftly placed into the ropes before I can object, spread so wide I can barely move. My heart is racing, my breathing ragged and my nipples are starting to ache from the desire burning in them. Sir taps my legs open, “Do I have to tie these down to Pagan, or are you going to be a good girl?” Oh dam. I bury my head into the back of the sofa and prey. Sir walks off, I can hear him gathering something in his hands, I don’t want to see, I don’t want to know. He is back behind me; another fucking sigh and I bite my lip. THUD, fuck the paddle hits my soft spot on my left ass cheek, shit that stung like a bitch. Thud, thud, thud in succession, I am squealing into the sofa, then I remember…”I am sorry Sir, please, please forgive me, Sir please!” Thud, thud thud, my right cheek stings. Then Sir is pulling my ass tight, oh fuck no, I wriggle and squirm. “Pagan, I will restrain your legs if you do not hold still.” Fuck how can this be so dam hot, expecting me to just hold still while he paddles me!
His hand runs up my thigh, a slap, and another, my lips sting, open and exposed before him, he trails up my spine and then he is pulling my head back by my hair, the paddle is in front of me and I try and focus my eyes. “What does it say Pagan?” Slut Sir.” “Who is the slut Pagan?” “Me Sir.” He pulls my head tighter. “Whose slut are you Pagan?” “Yours Sir, I am your slut Sir.” “And only mine Pagan, is that clear?” “Yes, yes Sir, yours, only yours Sir.” “Yes Pagan, only mine, as long as I am your Sir, no other man will touch you, is that clear Pagan?” “Sir?” It escaped my lips before I could check myself, he knew what I was asking, Vanilla? I didn’t really care, not after all this, the first week was enough to make up my mind, but dam I do not want him to have that information yet, I needed to keep some control, something for myself. “NO man shall have you; no man shall touch you, as long as I am your Sir. Is that clear Pagan? No man…!!!” My hair is pulled tight burning my scalp, my neck stretched to its limit, I can feel his eyes burning into me as I tremble and do my best to avoid his gaze….Fuck this is so hot, I swear I am going to cum. “Sir, yes, Sir, yes.” My head is thrown against the sofa and he is moving off. My emotions and senses are swirling together, and I feel sick. My heart is thumping in my ears, I want to fight, to run, to scream, to gather myself, I need a moment to compose myself, to take it all in, the realisation that he wants all of me… I wriggle, I am held, the restraints tighten and then I feel the cold against my clit, what the fuck! I jump and gasp, so icy, moving up over my ass cheeks, soothing the heat and I relax. Then it is in me, so fucking cold, I writhe and moan at the sensation as it mixes with my wetness and starts to drip down my legs. My clit is on fire, my pussy contacting under the ice and I let out a moan, then Sir is gone, I hear his calm footsteps move away, water runs, and he is back. The cold flannel against my skin, soothing me, calming me, wiping my hair from my face. Sir lifts my head from the sofa and plants a gentle kiss on my cheek before seeking out my lips and I respond, so gentle, searching, sensual. He releases me and I relax my head back onto the sofa and I smile as he brushes his hand against my cheek…..my relief is short lived as all to soon that familiar sigh escapes his lips and I tense…..oh god, now what?….then….

Swoosh…the cane takes my left cheek and I can no more stifle a scream as the wetness on my cheeks radiates the pain through my body. Again, and again and again, I hold my breath twisting and turning to see his shadow dance on the walls as he plays with his toy… I feel the skin break, surely, surely now enough, and then he stops flicking the cane and starts to strike…fuck me no more. My ass is shaking, my legs are shaking, I am so close, so close, another and another, I can feel myself drifting, and then, a hand, between my legs, fingers inside me, darting in and out, flicking against my clit. “Sir please, mercy Sir, please I need to cum, for the love of god please!!”my plea is desperate. “You may cum Pagan. “ And Sir is rubbing hard, holding round my waist with his other hand, gripping me fast to stop me moving, it hurts, it sings, it throbs and then it is all over me, gushing, dripping, flowing and I have lost all control.

Sir brushes his hands all over me, wet from my juices, his fingers in my mouth, I can taste me, so bitter, so nice and I collapse. Does he know, does he know how close I was to drifting into that beautiful place? Fuck I am spent. I raise my eyes to the table as Sir undoes my restraints, surely, surely there can be no more. I sink to the floor and he gathers me to him, my head on his lap as he strokes my hair, no words, just my tears running down my face and the softness off his hand brushing my cheeks. I am at piece.
“I was going to use the table, but, maybe you have had enough for today Pagan,” I sigh, I am done…my body is shaking as I snuggle into my Sir. Bit Sir raises himself and I move back onto my knees, I can see him eyeing the table and I lower my head as he turns to look at me. “maybe. Up” I scramble to my feet and follow helplessly as he beckons me towards the table. No fight, no resistance, my lessons were coming swift and with purpose, and this sub was now firmly aware that to resist now would serve no purpose other than waste energy that I was so desperately short of. As I am bent over the table and Sir manoeuvres my hands into the restraints with as much care as a parent strapping a child into a car seat, I ponder over my transgressions that week, fully aware that this spirited sub was now feeling very much cornered and controlled. I am going to have to be incredibly careful with my new Master that is obvious, he is quite happy to let me hang myself out to dry. I jolt back to the present, he is rubbing my very sore ass, a tap and I spread my legs, a slap on my still swollen pussy, and another, then several fast slaps before he slips his fingers inside me and I groan at his touch. A hand on my back pushes me into the table and he is in me with one push, fuck that was hard. Sir is harsh, hard, insistent and I am tied so fucking tight I have no where to go. The hard table gives no release from the pounding and I am building fast, my pussy throbbing my clit rubbing against the table, Sirs hand is on my head grasping my hair and yanking my head up and back, my body forced against him as I hear him groan and I beg for release. He is out of me as I cum all over his cock and before I have a chance to collapse on the table he is in my ass, fuck, straight in, no mercy, I am wet and ready and he takes, hard again, relentless and I am helpless to hold on, to hold back, to resist and I give into the sensations sweeping over me. I beg to cum, Sir is out of me and fingering me hard, brutal, then rubbing my clit with no fucking mercy. I feel it build, fuck no, not again, please. I fight, my head is pushed into the table, he holds me hard and continues to rub, I scream into my wooden captor as I release all over him and he continues to push for more of me…until I am spent and sobbing. He stands and walks to the sink, I raise my soaked face to steel a look. He turns and I quickly lower my face, a glass of water is placed before me, “can you manage to get that with your hands bound?” I wriggle my aching body so I can stretch my hands to their maximum, my fingers straining for the glass and Sir pushes it just enough for me to grasp it. “I’m going for some air, drink.” And he is gone, and I am alone, helpless, exhausted, the fire ebbing in my belly, my body shaking, every nerve raw and exposed. I am overwhelmed and the tears start to flow. My head chastises me for one last time…’you’ve done it this time girl, this one has you, this one you will not run from.’ And the tears flow some more.

Untied I am sent to shower and change so we can go and get some food. Dressing I notice the ties on the bed, I am convinced they were not there before! I brush them out of my mind, I am in no state to think of anything else to come. I present myself for inspection and once again fall behind him as we head out of the apartment.
The door is barely closed on return when Sir instructs me to change into my evening lingerie and present myself for inspection. This happens in silence as I am touched, teased, turned. I feel the wetness of my pussy escape me again and I bite my lip, unsure if I can take any more. The tap on the bed brings me back and I scramble up. The restraints slip round my writs and my legs are mercilessly pulled of the bed and spread. I feel his hand on me, exploring my exposed pussy, pulling on my lips, flicking against my clit. The smacks come hard and fast and I start to groan. Then he is gone, and I breathe, moving to check the room for any other toys, nothing, thank god. He is back and I once again feel the cold against my skin, what the fuck is that. Before I can work it out it is in me and I am gasping, fuck, fuck that is so dam cold; so cold I barely feel his fingers paying with my ass, and then the ice is circling me. No, hell no, I wriggle, and my back is pinned to the bed, I feel the cold ice slip inside my ass, slowly, carefully, maximising the sensation until I moan and whimper with delight. SMACK, fuck that hurt, my pussy smarts, the wetness adding to the sting. Then he is in me, hard again, holding me down, ”do not move,” his words commanding, his cock buries deep inside me, building, pushing, fuck I am going to explode, I beg, nothing, again, nothing, then he is out and rubbing and I am squirming, no I can’t, not again, there is nothing left in me, I am done, spent, finished. He holds me firm and rubs harder, switching between inside and out, my muscles contract, I judder and then with a sigh, I release, and it flows. There is no fight left in me, the sensation is overwhelming, goose bumps flow over me like raindrops and I give in to them, my nerve endings dance over my skin like lightening skating on the night sky, and there is nothing else I can do but surrender, I am at his mercy. Tears flow and I bury my head and release my last scream…

Ben and Jerry’s cookie dough has never tasted so good, and my little bit of freedom from relaxed protocols makes it ever so tastier. I cry again, but this time from laughter as I tease Sirs cock and nipples with a tongue full of cookie dough. I am in heaven. The towels on the bed stained chocolaty and wet from a beautiful mix of sweat, ice cream and me. Poor housekeeping. I smile all through washing Sir in the shower, all through towelling him dry and all through midnight munchies. My jaw aches in the morning from a night of smiling as I wake him in his favourite way. And I am still smiling as I say my goodbyes at the train station. Returning to my car, the smile still on my lips I head home, convinced I will do better the next week. How could I possibly be a tease and unruly for someone so wonderful. Then I nibble my lip, and smile some more, ‘girl, you’ve been good so far, don’t push your luck my head warns me’ A chuckle escaped my lips as I pulled out of the train station…..pondering on whether Sir would like a lap dance, a striptease or both…..and how I was going to hint about the other side of his little sub……………………mmmmmm
0 kommentarer
Sir...A taste of Discipline
Postad:12 augush 2020 1:50 pm
Senast Uppdaterad:13 augush 2020 1:33 pm
9646 besök
A taste of Discipline…

“Hungry”, his calming voice asks as he brushes hair from my damp face. “Yes Sir.” My voice is shaky and dry. He moves away and I feel a shudder as he separates from me. He leaves the room and I bundle myself up warm my body. I am almost numb, my emotions all over the place, my head, humming Duran Duran over and over give the rest of my brain a rest. I smile. I can hear Sir’s footsteps coming back and I spin off the bed and collapsed onto my knees; position 1. “Did you bring the other lingerie as instructed Pagan?” “Yes Sir.” “Good girl, get dressed and we will go and find some food.” He gestures that I can stand. “Please Sir, may I go to the toilet and freshen up?” “Yes Pagan.” I rise and scuttle off to the bathroom, glad that I have something else to focus on instead of the throbbing deep inside me, and between my very wet legs. “Sir?” “Yes Pagan?” “May I close the door?” “No!” I bite my lip as I push the door wide and head to the toilet, trying to distract myself from my unshielded position with thoughts of what I need to do to get ready, and to stop my mind reliving what has happened, because right now, my poor brain and emotions cannot handle any more. ‘Focus, ready for Sir Pagan.’

A quick wash, hair, makeup, god I was a mess. My wild hair was hanging out of my messy bun and cascading in ringlets and uncontrolled fizziness all over my face, my mascara tracing the lines of tears down my cheeks. I set to work, it took some effort, but I got my hair under control and looked in the mirror. Apart from the flushed cheeks and slightly red eyes I looked presentable. I returned to the bedroom to gather the evening wear Sir had selected. I could hear him pottering about and muttering to himself., he made me so nervous, yet I had never felt this alert, my senses heightened and listening for every movement, every word, craving and embracing every touch. Get your mind back on getting ready, I barked at myself as the heat started to rise again. One last and I head back the bedroom.

I start dress, sitting on the bed I reach for my stockings and pull them on one by one, fumbling with the suspenders as I do. Next, skirt and top, smoothing them down to hug my still trembling form I take a deep breath and let out a sigh, nope; I’m still trembling. I head to the lounge nervous to present myself, uncomfortable that I am not on all fours, and I could feel my heat rising again. “Turn.” Sir gestured with his hand and I turned. He sighed, “Beautiful, beautiful.” I bit my lip to smother a smile, he was pleased. I gathered my bag and fell in behind his right shoulder as we left the apartment and headed into town, aware that there was one more D still to come.

Dinner was casual, Sir permitting me to converse with him in a more relaxed tone. The streets were quieter than normal for a Saturday night in the city, they looked lovely, clean, warm, and familiar. We enjoyed a nice meal and chatted about many things, I tend to talk when I am nervous and not gagged, restrained or in scene, so conversation is never a problem. I do my best to not babble and keep my eyes from stealing a look at Sirs face. So masculine, his eyes so deep, I cannot help myself and bite my lip in frustration at my own lack of control. All to soon we are heading back and once again the comfort of my butterflies returns to my now full tummy. We enter the apartment and I move into the bedroom to remove my shoes. “Off…off,” Sir gestures towards my top and skirt, “leave the rest and join me in the lounge.” Sir grabs a pillow as he walks off his voice gives no hint at what is to come, or of his mood. I am pretty dam good at reading people, but Sir, is proving difficult, added to my totally recked emotional state, I shrug, its not surprising. Dropping to my knees I move to the lounge with as much grace as I can manage on the hard wood floor but Sir is not in there, so I move to position myself on the pillow laid before the chair. I my posture against Sirs last corrections and steel a around the room. No hints, no sign, nothing of what is come except the comb sat by the TV, I swallow, oh my! The chain goes in the toilet, I hear running water and then the door opens. My heart starts to beet faster with each footfall as he moves slowly towards my kneeling form. I jump as the curtains are pulled open, and then his shadow is on me and he takes his seat. A sigh, hands clasped again, and he leans in on his elbows. My butterflies are agitated, and I feel ever so slightly sick. “So, Pagan.” His words me back out of my trance and my ears ring. “I believe we have one last D before us, can you remember which one is?” Oh god. “Yes Sir, Discipline Sir.” My voice is childlike, not intentional, or illicit a favourable response, but because he makes me feel so dam helpless and by now I am so fucking horny I can barely speak. Another sigh escapes his lips, “Yes Pagan, you are correct, discipline.”

My eyes are darting the window and back, trying sneak a at the ‘toys’ Sir has placed on the window sill, while keeping an eye on the comb to see if remains in its position on the TV unit. “No need be frightened Pagan,” oh god, somehow that was not comforting. “This gives me no pleasure Pagan,” Sirs says as he squeezes his hands together. Do I believe him? No, yes, fuck I don’t know…he plays everything so close to his chest ’s impossible say…” However, is necessary Pagan, Sir must be obeyed.” I knew what he was on about, I knew my infringements and my unforgivable tardiness regarding my time keeping. I sighed. This, this I deserved. Sir leaned back with a sigh, “stand Pagan,” I stood, my heart in my mouth, I felt bad, after everything that had happened so far, now, now I felt bad, I had let him down, and It felt horrible.

A tap on his knee and I dutifully positioned myself across him. He adjusted me to his comfort, and I could fell his hand circling my ass cheeks. “I travelled all the way from London to see you Pagan, I was on time, for you to be late, is, at best undisciplined and at worst disrespectful to your Sir.” I could do nothing but mouth a faded apology. I had braced myself, I knew what was coming. SMACK…..it stung, dam his hand was hard…again, and again, and again, then a gentle rub as he re chastised be some more. SMACK on the other cheek, harder, firmer, dam he really hard, then again, the gentlest of rub as he continued highlight my failures. Then he was circling my clit, slap, fuck that stung, his fingers slipped and moved inside me and a cry escaped my lips, another blow my pussy brought a gasp and then with one hand he pulled my cheek taught, and slapped hard with the other carefully targeting my soft spot, fucking hell that hurt for a slap, my cheek was on fire as he reigned several more before repeating on the other side, each one that lovely soft sensitive soft spot. Dam, I was on fire.
Returning me position 1 Sir gave me one last chastisement before telling me I could relax, and my punishment was over. “Your speech restrictions are lifted Pagan; you can converse with me freely.” “Thankyou Sir, and I am sorry, I will never let it happen again, I promise.” It blurted from my mouth like a train from a tunnel; this was not the first impression I wanted give. Sighing he stood up. “I am truly sorry Sir, and about forgetting my collar, unforgivable, I know.” Sir turned. “yes, your collar Pagan, I knew there was something else, thank you for reminding Sir.” Oh god, oh shit, me and my big mouth…again. “Stand Pagan.” The tone of is voice once again giving nothing away. Out came some rope and before I knew it I was kneeling on the sofa lengthways with my hands in loops attached to the legs and my head on the arm, my ass in the air. The crop came down hard and firm making my still sore cheeks tense, flicking and dancing from one to the other. I bit my lip, buried my head into the arm and stifled a scream. Then Sir was in front of me, his many scent wafted over my nose and he was there, before me, hard through his pants, god I could almost taste him. I stole a kiss and my face cheek paid the price as my hair was yanked back and a hand descended on my face. “A ah.” Again, with the crop, I squirm, “do I have to tie your legs too Pagan?” God.
Moving to the front he rubbed against me, I groaned, so close, “please Sir, please.” “What Pagan? What do you want?” Sir started to release my hands. “Please Sir can I have you? Please?” “Yes Pagan, you may.” Oh god, thank god, I fumbled with his button and zip while he removed his belt, I needed him in my mouth so bad. And it was out, his scent so nice, so fucking , I could barely wait. I slipped my tongue out for a taste, determined to enjoy every second. My ass was on fire, my pussy was dripping but all I cared about was Sirs cock buried deep in my throat. I took him all slowly, licking the head, circling, running my lips tight down his shaft…god so good, up, down, up down as my hands, now free from the restraints teased his balls between my fingers. Then his hand was on my head and pushing, he was deep down my throat now, I was choking and gasping for breath and still I wanted more, I wanted to endure, to hold him, to take all of him. Release, and I am gasping for breath. Again, and again he pushes himself deep into my throat, I am gagging, drool dripping down my face, tears streaming down my face and I was happy. The fire in me burning and throbbing in my ears threatening to explode…I tempted a request, I had too, I was desperate. “Sir, please, please Sir, I need to cum, please.” Leaning over me he pushed his fingers inside my wet throbbing pussy, “yes Pagan, you may cum.” Before I knew it his fingers were on my clit, hard fast as he pushed my head down with his other hand…it wasn’t long, I was so fucking ready, I pulsed and jerked, ripples ran through my body, I stifled a scream of pleasure as it waved over me and Sir continued to rub harder, faster, and then, it happened, oh fuck.

A stream shot from me, I was squirting, oh god, everywhere, all over Sirs hand, all over me, the sofa, the floor. I dropped to my knees, exhausted, spent, content. “Oh god, I’m sorry Sir, the mess, oh my,” I giggled. That had never happened before, I could not believe it had happened now. “Go to the bedroom Pagan, you can walk, Sir will follow.” I giggled off to the bedroom and assumed my position at the side of the bed. What felt like an eternity later I could hear his footsteps along the hall. Then a tap on the bed, “Up.” I jumped up. “On your back, legs over the end of the bed, now.” I squirmed down the bed and did as I was commanded a smile still bright across my face. Sir pushed my legs wide and up, exposing my still soaking wet pussy then he yanked my legs and before the yelp escaped my lips he was in me, hard, fast, determined and before I knew it I was building again, gasping, crying out for release. “Sir, god Sir, please can I cum, please?” Yes Pagan, you can cum, the words faded as I released, all over Sir…tears rolling down my face, my breath rough and short, my heart exploding in my ears. I was done. I was complete. I was owned and controlled and at piece.

Sir was gracious and allowed me to sleep at his side with strict instructions on how he liked to be woken up…A bit of kissing and licking and sucking. I could do that I sighed, as I snuggled in for the night. I was an incredibly lucky sub.

Epilogue
5.30 am is not a good time to wake up your new Master, no matter how good the wakeup . I pretended be asleep as he got back into bed with a coffee. “ does she think she is? 5.30am!!!” Oh shit, I was in trouble again I smiled. I dosed in and out as Sir pottered back and forwards, and when I finally rose, he seemed joyful. I made his morning coffee while he went for Croissants and we chatted about the day, Sir relaxing my protocols. The sun was out, a walk, a chat, and a nice meal down by the locks. All too soon it was time for Sir to go and we drove to the train station. As we sat waiting for the train a few last words from Sir. “Now Pagan, I know things have been relaxed today, and Sir has been kind and caring and easy going with protocols, but Pagan must not forget Sir is Sir, and at any time she will be expected to obey and her privileges revoked. Sir will always be Sir. Are we clear Pagan?” “Yes Sir” I replied, trying to hide the smile. Sir kissed me, again, for the last time and departed. I stood there watching for what felt like an eternity before returning to my car. The drive home a blur stopping only to stock up on chocolate and red wine, to carry me over the sub drop I could feel slowly creeping it and I smiled. Roll on next weekend.
0 kommentarer
What Walks With Me
Postad:18 september 2021 1:06 pm
Senast Uppdaterad:8 januari 2023 1:01 pm
3533 besök

Sometimes I write with words in rhyme
What I cannot express in verbal times
The thoughts that swirl inside my head
When emotions are full and need to be expressed.
I hope you enjoy this glimpse into my soul.
About how I feel, what makes me whole

****

In this world where I reside
A constant presents walks by my side
Holding my hand through fear and doubt
A form I cannot live without.
It holds my soul in gentle hands
Controls my steps with subtle commands.
Guiding me to always strive
Never letting my resolve subside.

Who is this form I hear you say?
Who journeys with you both night and ?
He is my demon, he is my light
He is the one who controls my life
He brings pleasure beyond compare
He brings pain without dispare.

How can this be that you would give,
your life to one who controls how you live?
What power does he have to hold you so?
Can you not walk alone, can you not just go?

I have walked alone, thinking I was free
I have walked with those that I thought loved ?
But on my path I found,
its not enough to just take a hand.
This form takes more from , than I allow the world to see.
It climbs inside my very soul,
and tears apart the chains that hold,
the very darkest parts of , and lays them bare for all to see.

Who is this one who has such presence,
who's strength and resolve can see your very essence?
It must be strong and powerful beyond compare
To hold and bind you in its snare?

No my friend you have this wrong,
It did not come with strength alone.
It came with heart, passion and need.
It came with longing, want and greed.
It came to own and posses my soul
It came to take, and to Control

But, it is also weak and soft and kind
It has its doubts, and worries of mind
It has a life like many do,
Full of stress and trouble too
In me it finds its release.
A place of safety a place of peace.
Where is can be, all it wants to be
A place where it can be truly free.

I give  it strength as it takes mine
I give it power to control and bind.
I surrender to its every need,
I allow the darkness a place to feed.

It holds me fast and I hold it
Through times of trouble
Through times of bliss
I give it control, it gives me courage
To just be me, to grow to flourish.
And it has in me a place to be..completely open, to roam fee.

It is not the clothes that make this one
It is not the stature, it is not just the Dom
It is the way he gets inside..
Sees my soul, feeds my mind.
In rags or riches it would be the same.
It is not the fortune, it is not the name.

It is everything he sees inside
It is how he takes what he desires.
It is how he allowes me to be,
to give, to release, to serve and be free.

In chains or cuffs, restraints or collar
In pain or tears or fearful torture.
I am exactly what he allows me to be
For he ownes the real me.
And I will skip and step with pride
As I walk behind his left side
My path is his to choose for me
Without reserve
So mote it be.
2 kommentarer
Who walkes with me
Postad:11 juli 2021 7:25 am
Senast Uppdaterad:28 mars 2024 12:57 pm
3507 besök

Sometimes I write with words in rhyme
What I cannot express in verbal times
The thoughts that swirl inside my head
When emotions are full and need to be expressed.
I hope you enjoy this glimpse into my soul.
About  how I feel, what makes me whole

****

In this world where I reside
A constant presents walks by my side
Holding my hand through fear and doubt
A form I cannot live without.
It holds my soul in gentle hands
Controls my steps with subtle commands.
Guiding me to always strive
Never letting my resolve subside.

Who is this form I hear you say?
Who journeys with you both night and day?
He is my demon, he is my light
He is the one who controls my life
He brings me pleasure beyond compare
He brings me pain without dispare.

How can this be that you would give,
your life to one who controls how you live?
What power does he have to hold you so?
Can you not walk alone, can you not just go?

I have walked alone, thinking I was free
I have walked with those that I thought loved me?
But on my path I found,
its not enough to just take a hand.
This form takes more from me, than I allow the world to see.
It climbs inside my very soul,
and tears apart the chains that hold,
the very darkest parts of me, and lays them bare for all to see.

Who is this one who has such presence,
who's strength and resolve can see your very essence?
It must be strong and powerful beyond compare
To hold and bind you in its snare?

No my friend you have this wrong,
It did not come with strength alone.
It came with heart, passion and need.
It came with longing, want and greed.
It came to own and posses my soul
It came to take, and to Control

But, it is also weak and soft and kind
It has its doubts, and worries of mind
It has a life like many do,
Full of stress and trouble too
In me it finds its release.
A place of safety a place of peace.
Where is can be, all it wants to be
A place where it can be truly free.

I give  it strength as it takes mine
I give it power to control and bind.
I surrender to its every need,
I allow the darkness a place to feed.

It holds me fast and I hold it
Through times of trouble
Through times of bliss
I give it control, it gives me courage
To just be me, to grow to flourish.
And it has in me a place to be..completely open, to roam fee.

It is not the clothes that make this one
It is not the stature, it is not just the Dom
It is the way he gets inside..
Sees my soul, feeds my mind.
In rags or riches it would be the same.
It is not the fortune, it is not the name.

It is everything he sees inside
It is how he takes what he desires.
It is how he allowes me to be,
to give, to release, to serve and be free.

In chains or cuffs, restraints or collar
In pain or tears or fearful torture.
I am exactly what he allows me to be
For he ownes the real me.
And I will skip and step with pride
As I walk behind his left side
My path is his to choose for me
Without reserve
So mote it be.
1 kommentera
Diary of a Pagan Sub Chapter 2 14-17
Postad:17 december 2020 3:43 pm
Senast Uppdaterad:21 december 2020 10:46 am
6342 besök

-year- pagan has her first serious boyfriend and loses her virginity a left behind heart throb. But that is for tomorrow, time for bed and dreams of red tresses and the deepest of blue eyes.

So lets just go back a bit. year pagan also had a bit of an identity crisis. She hated being pagan. The rituals, the lessons, the stigma that went with it all. She just wanted be normal, whatever that was, and she soon realised her idea of normal was way different from everyone else’s. Or, be precise, everyone outside of her family. So by she was a bit of a rebel. She had developed her own gothic style of dress and demeanour. She had become someone you either loved, hated or feared. If you cant escape your path, you can at least use it your advantage. And she did. School was be tolerated, used to hone her personal skills, how to get what she wanted, use what she had and take what she needed. Everything a pagan was not.
One day while scouring through clothes pagan finds the telephone number of G (we are working on a full alphabet here). Memories flooded back, -year- pagan at karate, staring over the balcony at the most amazing brown eyed boy. Obviously, the boy soon became attached her and, and her lips. She felt, complete, L and G both gave her a sense of, well, having her cake and eating it. So when her inconsiderate parents whisked her away the depths of the wilderness called Wales, she was devastated, and there was the start of the rebellion. Finding Gs number sealed the fate of young pagans’ virginity, and a new pagan started emerge.

Now, I am not going get into the argument of right or wrong. Nor am I going to go into any details even though it is my story to tell, it is still about a and I do not want the moderators slapping on the wrist again. So lets just say, it was uneventful and unfulfilling and led young pagan on a quest find a better teacher. And she did just that and learned so much more than her young heart throb could ever have taught her. Again, no judgements, or discussion on morals or the psychology of it. I look back at those days still with a glint in my eye and a fond memory of just how satisfying it was, get what I wanted and be able do it.
So, one boyfriend and one lover down and apart from torturing the kids at school, pagan’s life moves on rather uneventfully until she reaches 17.’ AH’ had become her on and of boyfriend, and ‘SH’ was her girlfriend. Life was normal. A few rituals here and there, a few curses, a couple of spells when needed and a circle of good friends who ‘got her’. The only thing missing was a good sex life. Was it no more interesting than eating a bar of chocolate? Was she normal to feel so fucking horny all the time?
Now AH Was a good boyfriend, great at manoeuvring his way round the parents, good for a night on the town, and had a bit of street cred. But, the bedroom was, well, boring. And, he had a bit of a jealous streak that suffocated wild pagan. Until, that is, she learned how to use it to her advantage. One night after the usual ‘watch me snooker boys’ routine, that gave her some amount of amusement for an otherwise boring mid-month Friday night, pagan was in yet another argument with AH over her behaviour. Yeah yeah, same same . This time he had had enough of her flirting, this time he was putting his foot down. Pagan looked at him, he was going nowhere, she knew that, but dam he looked hot when he was cross.
She smiled and turned walk away, an arm reached out grab her, spun her round, and as it did she responded almost instinctively with a slap, right across his face, just as the word slut escaped his lips. It wasn’t the first time, for the use of slut or the slap, but this time, he slapped her back, hard, too hard, pagan fell to her ass. She giggled, looked at him and smiled, now this was more like it. She hustled to her feet and straightened her tight dress as she looked into the face of one very angry boyfriend. Before she could stop herself the words tumbled off her lips, “is that all you have big boy? My hits harder than that. “The next slap was harder, much harder. As she recoiled off the chair, she felt the hand, fingers pinched at her skin as it pulled her towards him and down on top of his knee. A clump of hair in one hand, he held her head down into the big chair, the other hitched up her dress and pulled at her panties. He was rough, unforgiving her yelps and the first spank hurt way more than she was expecting. This was not his hand, this was his shoe.

Pagan struggled, wriggled, tried bite his leg, her blood boiling, the primal bitch coming out . She spat at him, kicked, screamed. He kept on hitting. Inside a fire was burning, she could feel it, and she could feel the hardness in his pants growing. He yanked her up by her hair and into a crouch before him, his other hand slipped deftly round her neck and pushed her down to the floor. Off balance she fell, and he followed, crushing into her chest. His breath was rasping, his free hand tearing at her dress, she could feel the material cut into her skin as it gave way. She pummelled him, pushed at his jaw, dug in her nails, andhe squeezed tighter. Her whimpers went unheard. He wrenched at her panties until they snapped as he forced his leg between hers. His hands found her clit, he laughed as he played with the moisture there. “Mmmm, not so feisty, now are we?” She moved her head away and he yanked it bac “Look at bitch, look at while I take what’s mine.” Her eyes were wide, her nipples ached, and she bit her lip…oh hell yes, this, is definitely more like it.

That set the benchmark for Pagan. Nothing less than that night’s sex was worth entertaining. But as life goes on she learns settle. Not yet sure what ‘that nights’ sex was, she had no way look for it. One vanilla relationship down, she dabbled in kink with a few friends. down and she found her first Master…M...and learned what she did and did not like, and how control the feral bitch inside. But paths lead her yet another Vanilla relationship. All these she wore well, as a pagan should. Her responsibility go where Origin sends her.
A bit of magic here, a mix of herbs there, bringing people together, supporting, helping, listening. Making connections, putting things right, and then when it all got too serious, and they got to demanding and possessive, Pagan would run, start again, waiting for the next path to open.

Until the last time. No more, enough, vanilla sucks, or she sucks at vanilla, either way the only release she finds is in kin Its easy, uncomplicated. Leave your emotions at the door. Give your devotion and receive what you want. Simples. Until, she started help newbie subs find their feet and was tasked with finding subs for her Dom. Easy, until he too got possessive and threatened to leave his wife for her. She felt no affection for him that way, and so she ran from him too.

What was she supposed to do now? Vanilla and kink had both let her down. The only good thing to come out of the last D/s was Helen. Helen was a jewel. A rough diamond, one of the rare ones. Spirited, strong, and full of life, so much that it shone out of her like a blinding beacon. Helen, she would not give up on. This was one friendship she wanted to travel the boundaries between worlds. Helen was special.
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