I am kneeling on the bed, waiting for Sir to shower. Tonight, I cannot quiet my brain. I fidget with my hair. I crack my knuckles. I shift back and forth. I open and close my knees. I take loud, impatient breaths. I think about everything except what I should be focused on. I see the toys in front of me. I see His belt. I should be looking at this lovely, teasing display with delighted anticipation. I should be able to clear everything else from my mind. Most times, I can. Normally when I am kneeling, it is only Sir. It is beautiful and quiet and humble and right.
But tonight, I am a mess.
I hear the water shut off, and then the shower door open… I panic a little. I panic because, while I’ve technically done what I am supposed to do, I’ve only just barely succeeded. I am a disappointment to myself. But now I hear the shower door close, and I try to get it together but quick. I focus on what He is going to do to me, with me. I am as still as a statue. I take measured breaths. I try with all my might to get my head in the game, but I am struggling. Dammit. I’m usually pretty good in the clutch.
When He steps out, He will have questions and I want to be able to answer them honestly. I want to please Him with my obedience, with my humbleness, with my devotion. He exits the bathroom and asks, “Are you aching for me?” I quietly say Yes, Sir. You see, He made me ache all day, keeping me on edge, but at this moment, right this second, am I truly aching? I should be. I should still be dripping with want. But I have allowed my brain and heart to be consumed with things outside of Sir.
Sir hears my quiet answer and repeats His question. I try to speak a little louder, more convincing, but I’m pretty sure I add a mumbled ‘I don’t know’ in for good measure. I want to be honest. I have a lot of faults… sometimes I think I am only faults… but I try to be honest always. I hope I am not ruining this night, but Sir sees through me, He must know I am still in my sad swirly head, because He knocks me back on the bed and pins my arms above my head.
You are mine.
I mutter a quiet Yes, Sir (speak up, girl!)… Why am I still in my head?! Sir is right here, taking care of me, but I am worrying big over something I cannot change. Right now, I need to be taken away because I am starting to question my worth to Sir, too. I feel close to drowning in all the murky water of self-doubt – Out to sea in the cold, black ocean of despair. I’m not sure which way is up. I am treading water and swimming, because I have to ‘just keep swimming’ if I want to stay afloat. Sir tightens his grip on my arms, His face lowers even closer and he growls (I love the growly voice, I do).
You. Are. Mine.
I automatically say Yes Sir, but now, His words are the life boat coming to my rescue. I see the light. He is saving me from myself. I am not drowning! No, now I am floating in the clouds. Just like that. His words take everything from my mind. There is only Him. I exist in this moment for Sir alone.
He uses the toys and chokes me with His belt. The sex is mind-blowing, the orgasms rolling…explosive…plentiful. This night is raw and hard and glorious. I am settled for now, I am loved, I am content. I know that I may not be much of anything, but I am His, and that makes me the luckiest girl alive.