I can turn on a dime … never show what’s coming …
So often I barely know myself … what’s liable to come next … or even why …
But I do get better at guiding the ship through the shoals …
So that now I can keep myself swinging mostly between naughty and sweet … instead of so much between blissful highs and crushing lows …
Life is so short … and sadness won’t add one more day …
I know summer will come … I will see him again … and in the interim I will stay … as much as I can … on the pendulum I choose … rather than on the one that tries to derail me …
I will serve as he needs me to … smiling to feel his excitement … from across the many miles …
He is the meaning … and in the pursuit of that meaning … anything becomes possible … anything we desire …
So watch me shine … High-res

I can turn on a dime … never show what’s coming …

So often I barely know myself … what’s liable to come next … or even why …

But I do get better at guiding the ship through the shoals …

So that now I can keep myself swinging mostly between naughty and sweet … instead of so much between blissful highs and crushing lows …

Life is so short … and sadness won’t add one more day …

I know summer will come … I will see him again … and in the interim I will stay … as much as I can … on the pendulum I choose … rather than on the one that tries to derail me …

I will serve as he needs me to … smiling to feel his excitement … from across the many miles …

He is the meaning … and in the pursuit of that meaning … anything becomes possible … anything we desire …

So watch me shine …

(via expression-of-saudades)

“Discipline” is a difficult word for most of us. It conjures up images of somebody standing over you with a stick, telling you that you’re wrong. But self-discipline is different. It’s the skill of seeing through the hollow shouting of your own impulses and piercing their secret. They have no power over you. It’s all a show, a deception. Your urges scream and bluster at you; they cajole; they coax; they threaten; but they really carry no stick at all. You give in out of habit. You give in because you never really bother to look beyond the threat. It is all empty back there. There is only one way to learn this lesson, though. The words on this page won’t do it.
But look within and watch the stuff coming up-restlessness, anxiety, impatience, pain-just watch it come up and don’t get involved. Much to your surprise, it will simply go away. It rises, it passes away. As simple as that. There is another word for self-discipline. It is patience.

Bhante Henepola Gunaratana  (via heartmindspirit)

(via hisdarlinggirl)

(via be-pleasing-always)

labelledamesansdice:

One of the greatest pleasures I’ve ever had, is to bathe a man I’m in love with. This act was one of the first physical ones that led me to understand some of the submissive nature that lives within my soul.
I remember well the first time I knelt to lather his strong, long legs. The inner joy that fluttered within my stomach, at rubbing the expanse of his broad back. I remember him standing stoically; he soaked it in, but a part of him (out of conditioning) refrained from enjoying the full pleasure of it. I knew this with great certainty; as when I asked him to raise a foot and to place it on top of my lap to clean it; he politely protested by asking if that was necessary. He went on to explain that he could take care of that himself. That he did not feel comfortable with me washing his feet. It was then that he gently lifted me up and began to bathe me.
This of course broke my heart and I felt ashamed, as bathing him was a profound expression of my love for him. And that had I been in an abusive relationship; I never would have felt so free to want to express and give myself, in this genuine way.
After the bath, I remember; we quietly got dressed, averting eyes, but I asked him if he did not like what I had been doing. He said he loved it, but that he felt it was beneath me. That I should not have been on my knees.
To that I replied, that kneeling and pampering are acts of love that reconcile with who I am daily.  That it brings respite, a great peace. These occurrences, I said; are like an audible quiet within my mind and soul; after a large cyclonic storm. It is not an undesireables job, but a grace that one is born with; an opportunity to bend and caress the other body that encapsulates the soul I have chosen to be with.
There is nothing but an eternal sense of divinity when caring for the person you’re in love with, in this capacity. There is nothing wrong in fully accepting my gift, especially when I am at my most vulnerable; when there is so much love and respect between us.
LaBelleDameSansDice High-res

labelledamesansdice:

One of the greatest pleasures I’ve ever had, is to bathe a man I’m in love with. This act was one of the first physical ones that led me to understand some of the submissive nature that lives within my soul.

I remember well the first time I knelt to lather his strong, long legs. The inner joy that fluttered within my stomach, at rubbing the expanse of his broad back. I remember him standing stoically; he soaked it in, but a part of him (out of conditioning) refrained from enjoying the full pleasure of it. I knew this with great certainty; as when I asked him to raise a foot and to place it on top of my lap to clean it; he politely protested by asking if that was necessary. He went on to explain that he could take care of that himself. That he did not feel comfortable with me washing his feet. It was then that he gently lifted me up and began to bathe me.

This of course broke my heart and I felt ashamed, as bathing him was a profound expression of my love for him. And that had I been in an abusive relationship; I never would have felt so free to want to express and give myself, in this genuine way.

After the bath, I remember; we quietly got dressed, averting eyes, but I asked him if he did not like what I had been doing. He said he loved it, but that he felt it was beneath me. That I should not have been on my knees.

To that I replied, that kneeling and pampering are acts of love that reconcile with who I am daily.  That it brings respite, a great peace. These occurrences, I said; are like an audible quiet within my mind and soul; after a large cyclonic storm. It is not an undesireables job, but a grace that one is born with; an opportunity to bend and caress the other body that encapsulates the soul I have chosen to be with.

There is nothing but an eternal sense of divinity when caring for the person you’re in love with, in this capacity. There is nothing wrong in fully accepting my gift, especially when I am at my most vulnerable; when there is so much love and respect between us.

LaBelleDameSansDice

labelledamesansdice:

These emotions that seethe as burning coal under the layers of my skin; that can’t be contrived. How I carry your image before my days, how I sense you when you are distant and brooding over ghosts from your past; that can not be contrived. And when there is nothing, no connection; when the consistent tick on the cherry encased metronome stops creating rhythm; when there is a dry formality in lieu of a moist closeness— that can not be contrived. That lonely drop of oil within a glass of clear water, alters my world and what it does or causes one to not do or do; that can also, not be contrived.

Sometimes plain words are best … simple language … leave flowers for Sunday … leave artifice for the stage …
I go back to the beginning and read Cat’s words again with fresh eyes … with the vision of a better understanding …
Then it was like listening to the call of a kindred spirit … pulling me towards my own incarnation of light … still exotic … and only a place for my dreaming …

Now I shiver to hear my own heart speaking … of where I have been … of how I have felt … sweet life lived out …
Not the same in any particular … but oh so very much my truth …
I hold out my hands … with naught to give but a naked spirit … cast out and alone … with no regret …
For he is there in the darkest of night to lift me high again …
And so is my will poured out … in a perfect certainty …
I have surely come home … High-res

Sometimes plain words are best … simple language … leave flowers for Sunday … leave artifice for the stage …

I go back to the beginning and read Cat’s words again with fresh eyes … with the vision of a better understanding …

Then it was like listening to the call of a kindred spirit … pulling me towards my own incarnation of light … still exotic … and only a place for my dreaming …

Now I shiver to hear my own heart speaking … of where I have been … of how I have felt … sweet life lived out …


Not the same in any particular … but oh so very much my truth …

I hold out my hands … with naught to give but a naked spirit … cast out and alone … with no regret …

For he is there in the darkest of night to lift me high again …

And so is my will poured out … in a perfect certainty …

I have surely come home …

(via be-pleasing-always)

be-pleasing-always:

And so i entered, dropping to my knees, closing in on his space until he raised his hand. i stretched out mine and bowed my head until it almost touched the ground, my hair flowing freely across the floor and my neck exposed as directed. “Bare yourself before me,’ he said. i had practicsed this, yet i trembled as my hand reached back to pull away the last remaining cover from my body.
He left me there, unable to see his face, his eyes, listening for the slightest sound until he spoke, finally. “This is your place now, naked before me, so i can see what is mine.” oh, my heart sang at those words.
"you will remain bare, until i believe you have earned the right to wear what i may give you," he said. i bowed my head deeply to acknowledge his words, pleased that he would have me naked, and as if reading my mind, he said: "you look beautiful, naked at my feet, my little one."
he stood and walked closer, kneeling to grab a fistful of my hair. “This is your place now,” he repeated, as he started to rub his fingers across my shivering flesh. “Mine,” he said exploring every inch of my body until i was silently screaming with pleasure. “Mine.” High-res

be-pleasing-always:

And so i entered, dropping to my knees, closing in on his space until he raised his hand. i stretched out mine and bowed my head until it almost touched the ground, my hair flowing freely across the floor and my neck exposed as directed. “Bare yourself before me,’ he said. i had practicsed this, yet i trembled as my hand reached back to pull away the last remaining cover from my body.

He left me there, unable to see his face, his eyes, listening for the slightest sound until he spoke, finally. “This is your place now, naked before me, so i can see what is mine.” oh, my heart sang at those words.

"you will remain bare, until i believe you have earned the right to wear what i may give you," he said. i bowed my head deeply to acknowledge his words, pleased that he would have me naked, and as if reading my mind, he said: "you look beautiful, naked at my feet, my little one."

he stood and walked closer, kneeling to grab a fistful of my hair. “This is your place now,” he repeated, as he started to rub his fingers across my shivering flesh. “Mine,” he said exploring every inch of my body until i was silently screaming with pleasure. “Mine.”

Yield

be-pleasing-always:

image

a sense of panic set in as he bent me over the horse, for this was not to be a spanking as i knew them. “Be still little one,” he said as he strapped first my trembling legs down and then my arms. “Trust me, it’s easier if you remain still.” testing the straps i knew i would have little choice. Chaining me down by the collar, he briefly stroked my face and i took a deep breath as he rubbed his hands down my shivering shoulders and back.

The cold shiver traveled through my body as his hands explored between my ass cheeks, spreading them wide open. i shook against the straps, knowing full well i couldn’t move, and trying to find the strength to relax. “That’s right pet you’re all strapped down, not going anywhere,” he said, dipping his finger between my legs. “And that turns you on,” he chuckled.

He rubbed my ass cheeks firmly, pulling them apart and spread my own heat up into my virgin hole. i shook my head, not willing to beg him to stop. A blob of cold gel mixed with my own juices as he pressed first one finger into my ass and then a second. No bigger than the plugs i had held there, but the promise of what was to come made it infinitely more sensitive. Ignoring my quiet whimpers, he pushed a third finger in, twisting more cold gel around. “Oh you are ready pet and i will have your ass tonight,” he growled. Soon, i felt the tip of his cock press against my tight muscle and i cried out as he pushed in.

"Be still little one," he said, waiting as my body adjusted to the invasion. "Relax and it will be easier, let go now and I will make that tight little hole mine, just like the rest of you." His fingers rubbed more gel into the muscle and he slowly pushed his thick cock into my tight ass. i wailed and could not stop the tears streaming down my face. "Just wait pet," he said, pausing briefly again, "your body will yield to me." And as he kneeded my ass cheeks, i relaxed a little as i felt the worst of the excruciating pain subside. "That’s it, that’s a good girl, so very tight you are and now that tight little ass is mine," he groaned as he started to pound into me slowly, sending wave upon wave of burning agony through my body. "Mine," he growled and the pain slowly turned into something that was very close to pleasure.

"Mine."

I’d forgotten what they wanted me to;
buried it six feet, under not knowing
I was digging my own grave.

The blood of their sins stained my skin;
the shame wouldn’t wash off
as I scrubbed myself raw.

In my reflection were pieces of then
but now mangled in shattered glass
while I saw her staring back at me.

She’d been at the helm of a sinking ship
steering me away from the rocks,
though her little hands were no match
for the reef of the past; growing closer
with each passing storm.

We’d almost drown and I knew
she could not swim so I took her
aside and said,

‘it’s your turn to be a child’,

‘it’s my turn to steer’.

There are days I find her presence in me;
her eyes take over, her voice speaks
when my own is just below the wake.

I remind her that she’s safe;
not a hand will touch her
other than my guidance.

It’s time I fight my own battles.
She nods her little head,
wearing her favorite dress with
white lapel and bows of red.

I can see her swinging on the set,
flying high with a smile on her face
and I know…

we can both move on,
we can both be happy,
we can both live as one.

She was always beautiful
and I’ve known that.
I see her beauty in me,
but now I can finally say it.

I am beautiful too.”

an answer to this piece - mwd (via madworlddiary)

(via notjustcookies)

My Master wraps me in loving arms …
The hand that calls me home …
Rest here sweet butterfly …
Rest here …
I will not hold you little dreamer …
Find no entrapment in this embrace …
The wind is yours to float upon …
Your heart must yet fly free …
But find your way …
Know still that he waits …
He knows your heart …
As his own …

My Master wraps me in loving arms …
The hand that calls me home …


Rest here sweet butterfly …
Rest here …


I will not hold you little dreamer …
Find no entrapment in this embrace …
The wind is yours to float upon …
Your heart must yet fly free …


But find your way …
Know still that he waits …
He knows your heart …
As his own …

(via bestowmysubmissiveart)