thinking [princess/property] thursday

He makes me feel like a princess, and like His property. 

If you ask me, I am no princess and I’m certainly not worthy of Sir’s admiration. He seems to think I hung the moon. He puts my happiness far ahead of His own… No… That’s not it… It feels like my happiness IS His happiness. He tries His hardest to give me all the things that would make me happy. Boots? Don’t worry, just buy them. Vacation? He’ll make it happen. Quit my meager job? No problem! He’ll pick up the slack. Extra loving? Done. Shoulder to cry on? Bring it. Listen to me on repeat? Patience and love is abundant. Whatever it is, big or small, He bends over backwards to do everything in His power to make sure I’m happy. I can’t dwell on it too often, because I’m soooo undeserving, but I know He loves me and would do anything for me. 

But you see, I love Him just the same.

He is no pushover, though! He may treat me like a princess, but He is well aware of my flaws and shortcomings. He never holds them against me, but He does help me face them, grow and overcome. His steadfast rules and firm hand (and spoon and belt and whip and…) keep me in line. He keeps me safe. He owns me. I am His property. 

I may be His prized possession, but be clear… I. Am. His. I aim to please Him. I want Him to be proud of me. I try to make sure He has what He needs and wants from me, from life.  That is what I am here for. Sure, that drive is part of my submission, but it’s also a part of marriage, of love. 

Everything is intertwined. Inseparable. The love, the D/s, the marriage, the life… It is all one. 

I am tickled pink to be His princess (no! He doesn’t call me this!) and His property all wrapped up in a somewhat stubborn, bratty package. It’s the best of everything and I will be thankful for Him every second of my life.

Happy Thursday!

~shygirl

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thinking [this moment] thursday

This moment

Right now

The pain nearly unbearable

Perfection

Being pushed

Harder

Take another

Safeword on the tip of my tongue

After the next one

I’ll blurt it out

Another

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

Release

Infinite connection

Two souls together

Giving, taking

This moment

Heaven.

Happy Thursday!! ~shygirl 

sticky words v.2

He bends me over the bed and spanks me with the metal loop. The pain from this is sting-y and thuddy and radiates from the point of impact to my pussy, to my brain. It is so good, but also so much, and I cry out. No. Stop. I can’t take it.

Sir doesn’t stop, He reminds me that I am taking it and to let go. Ride it. I do. He continues for a while,  but this toy he’s made is some vicious so He stops before I’m ready (or is it long after I’ve had too much?).

I cannot remember if His leash is on me this night, but no matter… He leads me to the rug at the foot of the bed and orders ‘floor’. I assume the position and He begins a new set of blows to my heated bottom. I also don’t recall which instrument He uses here… The cane? The cat o’nine? Flogger? Whip? I was pretty far gone, one moment blurring to the next. The blows stop and He commands ‘humble’. I comply but Sir wants an overarched humble… Putting all of me on display. No hiding the goods in that position! I swallow my embarrassment and He does things with His mouth that about send me over. Before I do, He comments on how wet I am and takes me hard, not on His knees behind me, but doing deep squats from above. As always, this position feels so primal and urgent and dirty (and noisy). I have orgasm after orgasm… Not worried about the carpet burns that are likely on my face, arms, knees. 

When we finish, Sir helps me into bed, and goes to clean up. When He returns, He bends down and recounts everything that just happened, in great, graphic detail. It’s just as hot as when it happened, and I feel the heavenly pressure building. I try to get Him to stop… Sometimes I get a bit self-conscious about all the weird ways I orgasm… But Sir ups the game, using all the dirty words, demanding that I come. And I do. I orgasm from His words alone. It is so fucking good, Sir’s command of my body amazes me. 

Words have power. Words stick (and make slick and evoke explosive reactions), so be careful what you say.

🙂

Happy Friday!!! 

~shygirl