Living the Experience

Jayne asked if I’m able to really “live the experience” and my short answer is no. Followed by a slightly longer answer of no, dammit. And we all know that there must also be a long answer, don’t we?

As you most likely know by now if you’re a regular reader my Master lives far, far away. We get to see each other, when things go as planned, about 3-4 times per year. The rest of the time we interact online, mostly through Skype.

Do we all have the lay of the land now? Very good.

Because of all of these obstacles we don’t live the experience 24/7. I control vast fields and valleys of my life with no reference to my Master at all. The day is too long and too complex to give him the amount of control that I would like. But it is more than that.

Though Master and I met and connected immediately through kink we’ve found a kind of vanilla life as well. We are always aware of our places in this relationship. Always. But we don’t find a need to live those places constantly, so often we have hours of interaction that would seem totally vanilla to anyone who might hear them. We chat and discuss and even debate things on and on. And then when Master gets any sense that I need to be reminded of his complete and total control over me he will toss me on my head and watch me wriggle there.

Take tonight: We sat together for over three hours with no kink to speak of. Wonderful conversations and all but no kink and not even that much sex. But then suddenly he said to me these words: “I think you should look at Skype.” I was looking at other screens and didn’t realize that he’d turned on the camera on his end, but when given the hint I rushed for the button and reveled in the view of his body; his face.

His cock.

He stripped down, getting ready to sleep, and once his shirt and belt and jeans were gone he slid his boxers down, pulled his already alert cock out and began to stroke. And stroke. And stroke. And I watched. And panted. And drooled.

He knew – he always knows – how it wrecks me to see or hear him fuck his fist. So completely in control most of the time it’s an amazing change when I hear him out of control, and I could listen to that all day long. It reduces me to a moaning, whimpering mess and that’s just what I became tonight as he stroked himself and groaned in my ears. This was his way to very clearly remind me that I am his property to play with as he wants any time he’d like. To reiterate how we, in our hearts, always live.

So you ask if I live the experience and the answer is “no”. But Master finds ways to let me live the experience as often as possible. And to remind me how lucky I am to be his.