thinking [this moment] thursday

This moment

Right now

The pain nearly unbearable


Being pushed


Take another

Safeword on the tip of my tongue

After the next one

I’ll blurt it out


One more

Sinking into it

Wondering if it’s too much

Say it!

The tears flow

He finally speaks

Good girl

I love it when you endure

For me

My words dissolve

Mind blanks

Impact, pain

Spreading heat

Pleasure, love


Infinite connection

Two souls together

Giving, taking

This moment


Happy Thursday!! ~shygirl 


His Impact

Harsh, jolting
Protesting, begging
Strong arm holding
Push, struggling

Rhythmic, settling
Crying, cleansing
Deep words praising
Lifting, coming

Intense, testing
Melting, enduring
Hard lashes breaking
Floating, exchanging

Sliding, sinking
Worshipping, thanking
Two souls colliding
Completing, loving

This was another prompt from Sir, for His private viewing. However, the things I’m trying to write lately aren’t very well-rounded (or coherent!), so I requested permission to post this.

Impact has become one of my favorite things and the harder, the more it hurts, the better. Sometimes that frightens me a little. Deep down, I know it isn’t “wrong”, but at times I feel like I am, and that can manifest as a struggle – against the blows, against Sir… especially when the impact alone brings me to climax. This poem reflects the stages.

Happy Tuesday!

thinking [board game] thursday

Do not let that board fall.

The long 1×3 is balanced on my stomach.
It is neither sanded nor finished.
The edges are jagged and splintered.
I identify.
My hands are handcuffed behind my back.
I’m laying on them and the metal is digging into my arms and my lower back.
It isn’t comfortable in the least…
But I am.
I focus on my breathing because the board teeters with breaths too big, too fast.
Okay. I’ve got it.
But now the wheel.
The wheel that drew blood when I unpacked it.
Sir is running the wheel up and down one side… Neck to knees…and now the other.
More pressure.
I jump a little, but no…
Balance the board.

Don’t let that board fall.
Yes, Sir.

He brings out the clothespins.
I don’t know which, probably plain mixed with some I’ve engraved… Pins that say “loved” or “His” or “owned” or “surrender”.
They pinch and burn.
I settle quickly.
I won’t let the board fall.
Tweezer clamps go on nipples.
Sliding the ring up, squeezing harder.
I breathe easy.
All of the pain makes me warm.
Actually I’m getting hot…
Am I sweating?…
Sir starts playing between my legs.
Focus blurs.
The pain is pleasure is pain is pleasure.
All sensation is the same and it is sending me over.
My head is fuzzy.
I feel and I want.
Right now, that’s all I am – feeling and wanting.
Sir reminds me to keep the board balanced.
I had forgotten!
But it’s still there, wobbling, but it is still on my belly.
There is more, but I’ve gotten lost.
Now it is time.
The board comes off.
And then the first pin.
Sir’s tongue immediately seeks out the burning skin where the pin was.
Turns the pain into pleasure once again.
Each pin removed, followed by His tongue.
I am floating.
The clamps?
No. Not yet.
He rolls me over, removes my handcuffs.
My wrists are so sore!
My back, too.
I’m coming back down to earth and now it just hurts.

Bend over.

I shimmy down the bed, feet hit the floor.
Bent over.
Oh. That’s the board!
There’s nothing quite like it.
This is hard, savage, raw.
No time to think now.
I’m going to come.
For Sir. For the board.
He says do it.
I do.
Fire on my bottom.
Fire inside me.
Sir is not finished with me, but…
My brain is going to leave for a while.
Forever might be good.
Sir is playing with me now.
I am the best when I’m nothing.
Smiling and coming.
I’m out…

Happy Thursday.