Where to Find It
Off in a derelict building down by the bay she finally found it. The wrong side of town made right.
His directions had been iffy to say the least. It had taken much longer to arrive than she had anticipated.
Endless detours and thoughtless distractions. Her mind stopped to see the spectacle all around. Feeling the present through a veil of perpetual past tense. 
Still she thought: vague guidance and an intermittent flow of information hadn’t helped either.
Where was he really taking her? When would they get there? How would she know they’d arrived?
Following clues to a foregone conclusion.
So now arrived and wondering; she could only stare at the bareness of the place at first. A sweaty dusty warehouse once. Now just peeling paint and rusted metal. Nails poking out of the floor like signposts screaming “beware”!
Just such a place had always haunted her dreams. And though the day was humid and warm she shivered. A little.
Dichotomy in blacks and grays. The severity of a certainty. And an invitation to abandon. 
Yet for all its hard edges and lack of obvious charm the place still felt familiar. Every door and window open. Every corner hers.
Every echo an answer to some long forgotten question.
And perfect clarity besides.
She knew he would fuck her here. As she had always dreamed. In the black and white. In shades of grey.
Stripped bare she felt the warmth of home in every empty corner. Close kin in every broken shard of glass.
Wrong turned upside down and sideways. No longer a word to use or fear; only fear now used to write new words. And encompass better deeds.
Wrong made right. Sun shining through broken windows. Reflecting off pools of standing water. Peeking through holes in walls.
Wrong made right.
And there he was at last. In a basement room. Now open to the light. Victim of some stray catastrophe. It was that hole in the floor that she looked through by which she did find him.
As fresh and new as a favourite photo. Strong features and smiling eyes.
"I missed you love", he said. "I missed you so".
That was all he said.

Where to Find It

Off in a derelict building down by the bay she finally found it. The wrong side of town made right.

His directions had been iffy to say the least. It had taken much longer to arrive than she had anticipated.

Endless detours and thoughtless distractions. Her mind stopped to see the spectacle all around. Feeling the present through a veil of perpetual past tense.

Still she thought: vague guidance and an intermittent flow of information hadn’t helped either.

Where was he really taking her? When would they get there? How would she know they’d arrived?

Following clues to a foregone conclusion.

So now arrived and wondering; she could only stare at the bareness of the place at first. A sweaty dusty warehouse once. Now just peeling paint and rusted metal. Nails poking out of the floor like signposts screaming “beware”!

Just such a place had always haunted her dreams. And though the day was humid and warm she shivered. A little.

Dichotomy in blacks and grays. The severity of a certainty. And an invitation to abandon.

Yet for all its hard edges and lack of obvious charm the place still felt familiar. Every door and window open. Every corner hers.

Every echo an answer to some long forgotten question.

And perfect clarity besides.

She knew he would fuck her here. As she had always dreamed. In the black and white. In shades of grey.

Stripped bare she felt the warmth of home in every empty corner. Close kin in every broken shard of glass.

Wrong turned upside down and sideways. No longer a word to use or fear; only fear now used to write new words. And encompass better deeds.

Wrong made right. Sun shining through broken windows. Reflecting off pools of standing water. Peeking through holes in walls.

Wrong made right.

And there he was at last. In a basement room. Now open to the light. Victim of some stray catastrophe. It was that hole in the floor that she looked through by which she did find him.

As fresh and new as a favourite photo. Strong features and smiling eyes.

"I missed you love", he said. "I missed you so".

That was all he said.

(via gforcepdx)

The ellipsis …
…
An affectation I’ve been told …
By some …
How else though to write …
What I hear …
I think in hiccups …
Every purpose has a rhythm …
Always living its music …
Dancing out onto the page …
And so I pause …
To catch each note just right …
To feel the night …
My little ellipsis …
She makes you wait …
To hear the dream …
As I do …
Divine what I tell …
In the waves I ride …
In the flow that knows all secrets …
And shares these few …
As heaven writhes its way …
From soul to soul …

The ellipsis …

An affectation I’ve been told …
By some …


How else though to write …
What I hear …


I think in hiccups …
Every purpose has a rhythm …
Always living its music …
Dancing out onto the page …


And so I pause …
To catch each note just right …
To feel the night …


My little ellipsis …
She makes you wait …
To hear the dream …
As I do …


Divine what I tell …
In the waves I ride …
In the flow that knows all secrets …
And shares these few …


As heaven writhes its way …
From soul to soul …

(via blackleatherbelt)

You hurt me …
It seemed like forever …
In that endless winter of our discontent …
Deafening silence …
With no end even hoped for …
Where did you go …
Why did you go …
I would ask and ask …
But I always knew …
It wasn’t even you so much that needed satisfaction was it …
Redemption from those ills of commission and omission …
Both real and imagined …
Weighing on my soul …
Guilt is all I’ve ever known …
And I never even knew what for …
But still I’ve been sorry …
Like a white heat burning …
And you let me say it …
Live it …
Atone for it all …
Tears running until there were no more left to come …
Always present …
Always watching …
Always there and never gone …
Always with me …
Always focused …
Still smiling at the end …
In suffering for you I cleansed every wound …
And found a cleaner heart …
Still beneath that rubble …
Still beating strong …
Take just this little bit more love …
Each edge my promise kept …
So to see the end of fear …
Take just this little bit more love …
Take some then more then all …
Until taking is done …
Take just this little bit more love …
And see nothing left but joy …

You hurt me …
It seemed like forever …
In that endless winter of our discontent …


Deafening silence …
With no end even hoped for …


Where did you go …
Why did you go …
I would ask and ask …
But I always knew …


It wasn’t even you so much that needed satisfaction was it …
Redemption from those ills of commission and omission …
Both real and imagined …
Weighing on my soul …


Guilt is all I’ve ever known …
And I never even knew what for …
But still I’ve been sorry …
Like a white heat burning …
And you let me say it …
Live it …
Atone for it all …


Tears running until there were no more left to come …

Always present …
Always watching …
Always there and never gone …


Always with me …
Always focused …
Still smiling at the end …


In suffering for you I cleansed every wound …
And found a cleaner heart …
Still beneath that rubble …
Still beating strong …


Take just this little bit more love …
Each edge my promise kept …
So to see the end of fear …


Take just this little bit more love …
Take some then more then all …
Until taking is done …


Take just this little bit more love …
And see nothing left but joy …

(via lorisweetcream)

There was a treasure she couldn’t touch …
At least mostly …
A dream she couldn’t live …
At least outwardly …
But she holds it still …
Never believe in anything with less than all you have …
Believe …
Or don’t believe at all …
Here is my treasure …
And though I can’t feel it trace my skin …
There are no curves to sweetly caress …
Except in dearest memory …
Wisdom guides me to it …
And I do believe …

There was a treasure she couldn’t touch …
At least mostly …
A dream she couldn’t live …
At least outwardly …


But she holds it still …

Never believe in anything with less than all you have …

Believe …
Or don’t believe at all …


Here is my treasure …
And though I can’t feel it trace my skin …
There are no curves to sweetly caress …
Except in dearest memory …


Wisdom guides me to it …

And I do believe …

(via crescentmoon06)

herliege:

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
to the last syllable of recorded time;
and all our yesterdays have lighted fools
the way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
that struts and frets his hour upon the stage
and then is heard no more: it is a tale
told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
signifying nothing.

—  William Shakespeare, Macbeth: Act V Scene

The Origins Of Prey

nectar-traps:

Maybe we forget to eat for three days.
Maybe we probe at our ribs in bathroom mirrors
and wonder how we became so sharp; so cradled
in our own hunger. Maybe we stop answering the phone;
throw out the answer machine. Maybe it rings
and the train is delayed. Rings and our mother is sick.
Rings and the job fell through again—how were we
to know. Maybe there is salt. On our tongues;
between our teeth. Track marks on our thighs.
Voices in our scurry-minds—maybe it isn’t our fault.
They scratch and it isn’t our fault. We bleed
and it isn’t our fault. Maybe we pick every scab
we see, and blame the naked wounds. Infect
and it isn’t our fault. Prolong and it isn’t our fault.
Maybe we draw the curtains in the middle of the day
and let the shadows work their chalk into our skin.
Maybe we’re afraid. Maybe we are soft. Maybe
we’re just trying to hide the thumbprints on our necks,
or worse, seduce the throttle-fists that put them there.
Maybe we are unaware. Maybe we are torn. Maybe
there’s a pack of wolves. An open, baited door.

(via notjustcookies)

Crawl into my mind …
Here is your place …
I make it safe for you …
Quid pro quo as they say …
Here is a wonderland …
Made for your wandering …
Made perfect …
Made only for you …
Just as I travel these many dark alleys …
Pictures of penance …
Written on flesh …
With you I walk deeper …
In caverns of thought …
In dreams …
In nightmares …
In truth …
So wander with me …
I will wander with you …
Out where minds touch …
Even closer than hands …
And we will be safe …
Both of us always …
As one …

Crawl into my mind …
Here is your place …
I make it safe for you …


Quid pro quo as they say …

Here is a wonderland …
Made for your wandering …
Made perfect …
Made only for you …


Just as I travel these many dark alleys …
Pictures of penance …
Written on flesh …


With you I walk deeper …
In caverns of thought …
In dreams …
In nightmares …
In truth …


So wander with me …
I will wander with you …
Out where minds touch …
Even closer than hands …


And we will be safe …
Both of us always …
As one …

(via rolledtrousers)

Into the Pool
"Are you ready?"
Not really a question … that to be agreed had already been agreed … it was more like the final invitation …
True to form she said nothing … just smiled a little and nodded … got up to follow …
Just an ordinary basement in an ordinary house … with a slightly extraordinary cast of characters for audience … and an interesting array of furniture not normally seen … the kind of things one needs to throw a tarp over should repairmen come to visit …
As she walked up to the cross … there was the hand … quite suddenly without warning … threaded through her hair like a comforting vice … pulling her forward …
"Strip."
She pulled off most of it pretty quickly … with a little assistance … but hadn’t realized he actually meant to take it all … until the panties came off too … and then there she stood …
The cuffs went on next … and he asked if having her hands over her head would be a problem … to which she answered no … so then came the chains … pulled high and clipped tight …
She buried her head between her arms to wait …
It wasn’t fear that kept her quiet … it was wonder mostly … and thoughts of him … the Master of this game … the one who always watches …
The first touch was very soft … the brush of a flogger on fresh new skin … unused and never scarred … at least that any eye might see …
Light but insistent … this hand knew its calling … back and forth … to raise a hint of blush … with the promise of more …
More …
Different implements then … none that she could see … only distinguish by their messages … here a caress … there a sharp rebuke … hard across the ass or thigh … enough to make her wince …
And a whip … dancing across her back … more like feathers than an instrument of torture … until it cracked against her leg … and she had to twist away …
Nipples twisted tighter and tighter … and then … very briefly … the clamps … actual searing pain … to this she did cry out … but still without real protest …
Drifting … floating … but still the sense to remember moments … hands moving … exploring … testing …
Fingers brought around for her to taste … feed my dear … show me what you need …
And the animal close in her ear … a low growl and a hand at her throat … squeezing just enough to slow the flow of blood but not cut off her air …
"Do you want me to fuck you?"
A moan … a nod … a whispered “please” …
And then the assault … though to call it that is to make it sound grander than it really was … only a beginning this night … a teaser … an introduction …
She wouldn’t see until later just how large the plug was … but she surely felt it … squeezing relentlessly deep in her ass … a first breach into virgin territory …
"Relax", he whispered. This tone more kind.
And so feel pain become discomfort … become almost something else … as he made as if to fuck her … laid close against her back … pressing in … enveloping her body … stroking the ravaged skin … and holding tight …
Not sure then quite how it ended … but that somehow the cuffs came off … she was wrapped in a blanket … brought to a chair to be held and stroked … water was offered … and she slipped into sleep …
Only one other thing to remember … as that pool of quiet descended around her … holding her close in its warm embrace …
Two voices and their blessing … smiles and pleasure … becoming also hers … the one by her ear to hear … and the other to fill her heart …
"Good girl."

Into the Pool

"Are you ready?"

Not really a question … that to be agreed had already been agreed … it was more like the final invitation …

True to form she said nothing … just smiled a little and nodded … got up to follow …

Just an ordinary basement in an ordinary house … with a slightly extraordinary cast of characters for audience … and an interesting array of furniture not normally seen … the kind of things one needs to throw a tarp over should repairmen come to visit …

As she walked up to the cross … there was the hand … quite suddenly without warning … threaded through her hair like a comforting vice … pulling her forward …

"Strip."

She pulled off most of it pretty quickly … with a little assistance … but hadn’t realized he actually meant to take it all … until the panties came off too … and then there she stood …

The cuffs went on next … and he asked if having her hands over her head would be a problem … to which she answered no … so then came the chains … pulled high and clipped tight …

She buried her head between her arms to wait …

It wasn’t fear that kept her quiet … it was wonder mostly … and thoughts of him … the Master of this game … the one who always watches …

The first touch was very soft … the brush of a flogger on fresh new skin … unused and never scarred … at least that any eye might see …

Light but insistent … this hand knew its calling … back and forth … to raise a hint of blush … with the promise of more …

More …

Different implements then … none that she could see … only distinguish by their messages … here a caress … there a sharp rebuke … hard across the ass or thigh … enough to make her wince …

And a whip … dancing across her back … more like feathers than an instrument of torture … until it cracked against her leg … and she had to twist away …

Nipples twisted tighter and tighter … and then … very briefly … the clamps … actual searing pain … to this she did cry out … but still without real protest …

Drifting … floating … but still the sense to remember moments … hands moving … exploring … testing …

Fingers brought around for her to taste … feed my dear … show me what you need …

And the animal close in her ear … a low growl and a hand at her throat … squeezing just enough to slow the flow of blood but not cut off her air …

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

A moan … a nod … a whispered “please” …

And then the assault … though to call it that is to make it sound grander than it really was … only a beginning this night … a teaser … an introduction …

She wouldn’t see until later just how large the plug was … but she surely felt it … squeezing relentlessly deep in her ass … a first breach into virgin territory …

"Relax", he whispered. This tone more kind.

And so feel pain become discomfort … become almost something else … as he made as if to fuck her … laid close against her back … pressing in … enveloping her body … stroking the ravaged skin … and holding tight …

Not sure then quite how it ended … but that somehow the cuffs came off … she was wrapped in a blanket … brought to a chair to be held and stroked … water was offered … and she slipped into sleep …

Only one other thing to remember … as that pool of quiet descended around her … holding her close in its warm embrace …

Two voices and their blessing … smiles and pleasure … becoming also hers … the one by her ear to hear … and the other to fill her heart …

"Good girl."

(via lifesalmostunimportantthings31)

So long since a love letter …
In the sense of lines and spaces …
Ephemeral words cannot convey …
Distinction …
Every breath our epitaph …
Every thought your painted canvas …
A soul spread out in colours …
Inexpressible …
So long love …
Oh so long …
Yet never long at all …
Ever in the here and now …
You live …

So long since a love letter …
In the sense of lines and spaces …
Ephemeral words cannot convey …
Distinction …


Every breath our epitaph …
Every thought your painted canvas …
A soul spread out in colours …
Inexpressible …


So long love …
Oh so long …
Yet never long at all …


Ever in the here and now …
You live …

(via evilblackbloodyangel)

herliege:

image

Presence

There is no room here for doubt, questions, uncertainty. In my absence you will know, I am there always.

If you are truly mine, your every breath, that twitch in your foot, the knots in your hair, every smile on your face, the sound of your laughter, remain always mine.

If you are truly mine, I need to know that you will feel my presence in every step you take, every word you speak, every drop of water that touches your skin. A shower will never be the same again.

If you are truly mine, every movement will remind you of my touch, how my hands caressed, probed, slapped, tied and freed you, reached deeper than skin would allow. That shift in your hips is mine too.

If you are truly mine, you will need no bruises as evidence of my marking, it will be under your skin where it is felt, in every move you make, the way those welts touched your very being.

If you are truly mine, you will feel my arms around you holding you close in that moment when you need it most, that chair only a temporary substitute for the real thing while I am not there. Your place, where you will find me, always.

If you are truly mine, you will shift only to feel me closer still, inhale only to feel the warmth of my breath brush your skin, my smile at the goosebumps it leaves behind.

If you are truly mine, you will take a moment as you lie there and give me your next breath, that one, yes. Because I never really left.

(c) words M. / Her Liege - image by Isa Marcelli



There is no certainty more sublime than the certainty of silence …

To be yours is to shiver from a thought … as though your hand just lately brushed my own … for indeed it did … indeed it does …

To be yours is to see in the sunshine … the light of love … see us cast elusive shadows … so to chase them besides …

To be yours is to know my place … as a place of plenty … divining how all is given … and all is found …

To be yours is to know a mark … the one cut deep … the one made to last … that none may see … but all can discern …

To be yours is to be wrapped … in bonds of joy … in a warmth never laboured or lost …

Feel it now … feel it true … feel it near …

To be yours is all I know … in every moment … and so I breathe …
be-pleasing-always:

erospainter:

Obedience is basically doing what you are told to do. Interesting enough it seems to me that many take this to mean that submissives are mindless robots who do everything they are told, all the time, without any thought for themselves. (blind obedience)……..
This is not true. Being obedient, by no means, says that you can’t think for yourself Little One, question things or have negative feelings about things. When one speaks of obedience they do not mean blind obedience. Often though, you will see people discussing obedienceand a submissive will say “I do what I am told all the time”. What gets lost in a statement like that is the length of time the relationship has been in place, the level of trust the submissive has in the dominant, and the similarities in the couple’s desires.

…..
Oh i did not leave my brain at the door, i do not follow orders mindlessly, without thought or question.
But i also do not deny him or refuse him. There is no room for saying no, there is no safeword and that is by choice.
However, in my opinion, it takes constant thought and consideration to serve his needs and wishes; hard work and discipline of the mind as well as the body to fulfill and indeed anticipate his desires to the level of perfection that he expects and i aim for.
Blind obedience would not serve those aims. To my mind it would be exhausting on both parties. For me, following instructions is, of course, automatic and immediate, but i should hope my servitude is considerate, always thoughtful and mindful. And if i should ever question anything, then my Master also knows and appreciates that i did not leave my brain at the door :-)
This is a life and a lifetime, after all. Not something to give away mindlessly.
As always i speak for myself only

be-pleasing-always:

erospainter:

Obedience is basically doing what you are told to do. Interesting enough it seems to me that many take this to mean that submissives are mindless robots who do everything they are told, all the time, without any thought for themselves. (blind obedience)……..


This is not true. Being obedient, by no means, says that you can’t think for yourself Little One, question things or have negative feelings about things. When one speaks of obedience they do not mean blind obedience. Often though, you will see people discussing obedience
and a submissive will say “I do what I am told all the time”. What gets lost in a statement like that is the length of time the relationship has been in place, the level of trust the submissive has in the dominant, and the similarities in the couple’s desires.

…..

Oh i did not leave my brain at the door, i do not follow orders mindlessly, without thought or question.

But i also do not deny him or refuse him. There is no room for saying no, there is no safeword and that is by choice.

However, in my opinion, it takes constant thought and consideration to serve his needs and wishes; hard work and discipline of the mind as well as the body to fulfill and indeed anticipate his desires to the level of perfection that he expects and i aim for.

Blind obedience would not serve those aims. To my mind it would be exhausting on both parties. For me, following instructions is, of course, automatic and immediate, but i should hope my servitude is considerate, always thoughtful and mindful. And if i should ever question anything, then my Master also knows and appreciates that i did not leave my brain at the door :-)

This is a life and a lifetime, after all. Not something to give away mindlessly.

As always i speak for myself only