CheckMate: The Final Chapter...
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Posted:Jul 21, 2014 5:44 pm
Last Updated:Jul 22, 2014 10:12 am
18892 Views
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Sweat. There is always sweat glistening when the handiwork of a Master has been dispensed. Some comes from pure physical exertion, some from the fear that is inherent when one allows another control. Some is sexual. A lot is sexual. Every good Master understands the limits....and how important it is to be able to read the glisten of sweat. When to push further, when to touch a limit and pull back, and when to shove straight over the edge. Turns out the Adonis is good. She's lying face down on his bed... Drenched. Her rear is striped red but not raw - her hands splayed above her fastener to the bed posts. Legs wide, hair tossed to the side, breath banging hard against her chest. Fucked. Fucked hard. And not ready to recover from it. And her only thought is..... Mmmhhhhh..... If it was possible to gather herself and turn her head, she would see that the Adonis was grinning. He is pleased she matched His desires. Better yet, that she gave in so easily. She truly belonged in service and not in control. And for a split second, the same thought came to the two at once..... May we play again??
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CheckMate: Part 3
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Posted:Jul 16, 2014 9:33 pm
Last Updated:Sep 21, 2014 8:22 pm
18924 Views
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Fast forward to his apartment. Of course the Adonis would have a loft apartment in the city. Very brick, very industrial. How convenient. Their discussion at the bookstore led to all things Master/servant. He had so many questions and for the most part, she had the answers. He asked the typical questions a "newbie" would... "But what happens when a servant cries?" "Can a Master have more than one slave?" "What if the bindings are too tight - What the ???" And now she stands over him as he is kneeling before her. His fear alone has him drenched in sweat. She has yet to swing one lash of her whip or one snap of the riding crop she has been tormenting him with. She's learned well in her training and understands how to toy with a willing servant. She definitely has chuckled under her breathe at the willingness of his service. And better yet, he did seem to respond well to the tap tap tap of it's leather against his cock tho. Hands placed on the small of his back while he sits on legs neatly folded to kneel, he looks like the well trained slave. "Now this is more like what I am looking for" she hisses into the drenched hair clinging to his head. "Someone who understands the word obedience." And then her mistake was made. For a mere moment she turned her back. Stepping to her purse in order to look for the padded handcuffs she keeps there, she never saw the pet stand. Nor did she see him pick up her crop. The first thing she realized was him standing behind her pressing against her body with His. The next was his arm as it encircled her waist, carefully holding her riding crop at the same time. Just as she thought to herself that she is going to well enjoy punishment for his actions, she felt the attack. His hand. From His position behind her. As it closed over her mouth and quelled any attempt at his reprimand. This was where her possession took place. As He slowly drew the crop over her skin causing the trail to tighten in goosebumps, it was His turn to hiss into her hair... "I believe it has become time to ask you when exactly it was, that we discussed me being a servant, and you becoming my Master??" Eyes wide, and breath coming sharp under the pressure from His hand, she becomes terribly aware of her mistake. There is only one thoughts she has. Game on, Sir.
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Part 2: CheckMate
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Posted:Jul 11, 2014 8:14 pm
Last Updated:Jul 13, 2014 8:40 am
19252 Views
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And an hour later the flirting would continue. The conversation included two frozen lattes, a mocha cappuccino, cranberry-orange scone, three chapters of Sleeping Beauty and a lot of sexual tension. A whole Lot. At this point she isn't terribly sure who is the aggressor and who is the pursued. She really doesn't care - she is definitely interested in this gorgeous creature. "But do people really believe this stuff?" The Adonis asks. "Well of course," she offers. "But I would hope you weren't going to lead your servant naked through the streets for the townsfolk to google at!" "I didn't mean that part - I meant the part about 'serving'. You know like Beauty does with her Prince?" "The part where she will do anything for him? Yes, it's a huge part of the community. Of course every Master has a different meaning to their pet, but in general it's all about pleasing the one who holds your heart." "Man. This is hot!" She gets the idea that his thoughts were accidentally slipping out and it makes her grin under her lowered lashes. "Uh, sorry I didn't mean to be so forward. This is just crazy. I mean this subject, meeting someone like you here in a bookstore... Having this conversation.." She chuckles at the irony of it. "Some things are just meant to happen, and sometimes people are meant to 'bump' into each other." Again her lashes remain low. "So this might seem over the top, but do you think we might discuss this further?" This time it was him who's eyes were lowered. She allows the grin to spread across her into her eyes. This time she looks deep - and tilts her head slightly. Round 2 - CheckMate again my friend.
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CheckMate
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Posted:Jul 10, 2014 6:12 am
Last Updated:Jul 11, 2014 6:59 am
20169 Views
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She loves the smell of bookstores. Those cheesy super-store types with the whatever brand coffee is brewing and some latte-mocha-half-expresso-hold-the-caffeine thing is percolating. She doesn't understand how mug cozys and literary works have melded into one, but for her the smell is hypnotic. She knows the floor plan and understands that the reading choice she makes may be hiding in any of the aisle. Purposefully she strolls, tilting her head slightly in order to read the spines in order to capture the exact title that peaks her curiosity. Self-help, Eastern Religion, Differential Equations For Dummies all receive a glance. So also does the young man in Aisle 7. Not your usual bookstore addict. Decisively old enough, but of the crowd who has no time for reading. Holister/Abercrombie/Aero adorned this creature screams "Where is my Frozen Cappuccino??" And the body art extraordinaire definitely evokes a bit of masochism in that six foot icon. Disadvantage one: Age difference. Disadvantage two: no prior knowledge. But there is always the advantage of a well played round of flirting that could be quite interesting. And she thinks to herself.... Game on Gorgeous... Again with the head tilt. Much like chess, position means everything. Her first move will be directly across the shoulder level racks from her victim. Her hand slides up to accidentally unfasten another button down. Bite your lip Dear... It makes them notice. And just for effect she slowly lifts those lashes to see if the Adonis notices... Guess who gets caught staring? She couldn't possibly have meant to make eye contact like that, so the appropriate thing to do is look away. Quickly. Almost making her seem shy. Shy dripping with devious. The Adonis begins to switch his weight from one foot to the other. Nibble has been established... Time to hook the catch. A casual stroll is in order to a use proximity to her advantage. She is going for the Check-Mate. Latte-something-or-other in hand she slowly works her way down the aisle towards the Young man. For some reason she is trying to visualize the Adonis naked... Very naked. A sideways glance tells her he is following her moves and well aware of the imminent chemistry that could happen... Probably will happen. Damn this creature is gorgeous. The ringlets of dark hair held tight to his head are for some reason just touching his perfect earlobe. And that damn, paid too much t-shirt is so tight she can see his tattoo trailing down the length if his back. Shall we mention that he has the arse to die for? It would be inappropriate to give it a bit of a smack, now wouldn't it? More inappropriate to run her hand along the front zipper of his jeans??? She glances at the shelves to distract herself slightly and is taken back for the section she is standing with the Adonis in. Alternative Lifestyles. Fuck he's gay. Wait... His book. Anne Rice? ... Sleeping Beauty?? No Way???!!! He lives in her forte'. "Nice Book...." She whispers towards him. His grin is priceless. Check Mate my pretty.
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WARNING***RANT ALERT***
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Posted:Jul 8, 2014 2:02 pm
Last Updated:Jul 29, 2014 12:21 pm
17748 Views
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WARNING***RANT ALERT***
Here it comes so hold on.... I'm really fucking tired. Tired of being "Other".
Tired of being the other women. Tired of giving all...getting some. Tired of feeling like hiding is right. Tired of having less and accepting it. Tired of letting people walk on me when I know they can or will never walk with me. Tired of putting out more than I'll ever get back. Family, friends, everyone.
For once I'd like someone to say, What do you need. No wait... For once I'd like someone Just to know what I need. And do it. Give it. Show it.
Someone to take my place when I need them to. To be as strong as me. As diligent as me. As dedicated and driven as me. So for just fucking once I can breathe.
Someone once told me that I expect too much From myself. And that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I hate to think I'm supposed to be lonely and miserable.
**END RANT** I hope
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The woman in me... Is really a Little Girl
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Posted:Jul 6, 2014 9:35 am
Last Updated:Oct 25, 2015 7:34 pm
16983 Views
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(While I know this post may draw out the dregs of blogland I'm writing it anyway.... No comments are needed from the trolls!)
While all of us grow up in body and mind... Somewhere deep inside of me there remains a Little Girl. Her name is Abigail. Abby can see things the others have become too calloused with life to observe. She can feel inside people and see how they hurt or what they desire, but she especially sees what they are afraid of. Those things often scare Abigail too. Abby feels more than the others. She's emotional and selfish and pouts and cries... Sometimes a lot. The stronger personalities wish Abby away most times. She slows things down; she wants everyone to play nice and she reminds us that we need to be there for others that struggle more than we do. Worse yet, Abby believes in the Fairy Tale. The place where the Prince takes your hand. And all things sparkle. And where a kiss is something that has meaning. Abigail longs not to be the Princess... She wants to be found like one. All plain and wrinkled and hard working and down right scullery.... And given a kiss.
Abby makes us long for Him. Sometimes I wish she would grow up.
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Slowly...
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Posted:Jun 20, 2014 7:12 pm
Last Updated:Jun 23, 2014 5:35 pm
17117 Views
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Slowly .... Waking in the sun Heat from the rays Causing the sheets to pull back A knee A thigh The curve of an arse Peeking from the covers Calling for another To stroke The exposed skin And to begin the fire Slowly...
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collared
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Posted:May 10, 2014 10:43 pm
Last Updated:Jun 14, 2014 12:38 am
16468 Views
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He mentioned it today.
How that soon she will be wearing her leash again. And she will be in her place.
How it will be nice and tight again. The place where she belongs.
He asked how that made her feel And she replied like she was "Home".
She really meant to say It made her excited. And hot. And terribly wet.
Like she was Home.
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Tis Interesting...
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Posted:May 6, 2014 7:34 pm
Last Updated:Oct 25, 2015 7:36 pm
15774 Views
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Funny how endings can be. Some are so dramatic and explosive. Others so final and quiet. But in the end, it's just that...The End.
I have learned in my life, If something doesn't want your company you must let it go. I have also learned the signs of that "not want". Someone on the prowl for the "new" leaves an odor. It's not hard to smell. Once you have the scent, it's just a matter of time.
Funnier still how you will be treated When you put up no fight. There's really no reason to once you've given up. Amazing how things can't simply just GO AWAY. But bother you in new forms, with new faces. For No reasons. Without provocation.
Power is in the thought. I refuse to give you my power, nor my time. You picked non-patience. I knew you would. Amazing how I still come up in your world.... Even tho you don't come up in mine.
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Give Me What i Want...
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Posted:Apr 30, 2014 6:23 pm
Last Updated:Jun 9, 2014 5:44 am
16567 Views
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The first question is always the same. What are you looking for? I'm not looking for anything. The question should be... What do you want?
I want a man who is not a pussy or overly cooperative. I want a man who choses the restaurant or the movie or the time and place. I want a man that kisses me HARD and knows for how long. I want a man that will pull me into an alley and makes me wetter than the wall he presses me into. I want a man that knows what he wants in bed and takes it...his choice always. I want a man that is rough and hard and sweaty and glistening. Did I mention HARD?
So stop asking me what I'm looking for. If you knew...You have already taken it.
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property His
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Posted:Apr 19, 2014 9:56 pm
Last Updated:Apr 30, 2014 5:58 pm
15919 Views
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she holds on to the way His skin feels How He slides His cheek against hers Leaving His scent How His hand slips through her hair Pulling so her head tilts back Exposing her neck For Him to devour How He leans in to kiss her lips Only to torture her By not she holds on to these until He returns For what He owns
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Let It Go....
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Posted:Apr 17, 2014 6:57 pm
Last Updated:Apr 22, 2014 7:11 pm
16112 Views
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The snow glows white on the mountain tonight Not a footprint to be seen A kingdom of isolation, And it looks like I’m the Queen.
I am a bitch. That's the reason I'm always alone. I have no time for weakness. For ignorance. For anything stopping me from reaching the goal. This makes me frozen. The Queen of Ice. My heart is gone.
The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside Couldn't keep it in; Heaven knows I've tried
I am a liar. I hide from my true self and have become amazingly adept at being "Normal". I have never been normal. I am not a mother, I have never been a homemaker, I can't stand being a role-model, a neighbor, or even a teacher. I am a slave.
Don't let them in, don't let them see Be the good girl you always have to be Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know Well now they know
I am owned. Once upon a time, in a far away land, I was bought. The price was my soul. My new owner was a master. Try as I might, my owner remains The Master. And every day I die a little more inside. No matter who I pretend to be, who I lie to be, He has the missing piece. And it scares the hell out of me.
My power flurries through the air into the ground My soul is spiraling in frozen fractals all around And one thought crystallizes like an icy blast I'm never going back, the past is in the past
I cannot deny His return. It would cost me to do so, even if I could muster the courage. I am disappointed in myself and my feelings. I despise Him for making the "Normals" go away. For uncovering the hole He created, only to dig even deeper. To make it bleed, feel, crave. Why couldn't He let the dragon sleep?
Let it go, let it go And I'll rise like the break of dawn Let it go, let it go That perfect girl is gone Here I stand In the light of day Let the storm rage on
I have too many doubts. Doubts are never the friends of a slave. They are not tolerated, nor left unpunished. And punishment is one of my doubts. He is here. Stronger. Much stronger. He is darker. And I am not ready.
It's time to see what I can do To test the limits and break through No right, no wrong, no rules for me, I'm free!
I am older. I am not the slave He had before. I have waited, and pondered and had remorse and lusted. And now I am torn. I am not there...where I was when He left. The pain hurts now and I can not let it stop me from the goal. Pleasing Him is the prize. The disgust in myself outweighs the disappointment I know will come from Him. And I'm not sure I can ever get to where He demands I be. I can not fail.
Let it go, let it go I am one with the wind and sky Let it go, let it go You'll never see me cry Here I stand And here I'll stay Let the storm rage on
Damn this confusion. It makes my head hurt. It makes my soul weep. And it makes the fire burn.....
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Tis Time...
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Posted:Apr 12, 2014 9:41 pm
Last Updated:Jun 15, 2014 9:27 pm
15782 Views
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Tis Time to take my rightful post...
I have been wondering why I have no desire to write. I read through the volumes and know that I can write. I actually have quite the imagination. But the nothing lives here. So many things stole my pen: a gruelling education, a new career, several hospitalized family members, a disappearing partner.
The Nothing came swiftly by text message. And reminded me how life repeats itself. The Nothing took hold.....it stole my soul, and came to live.
Damn you Nothing.
Tis Time, my friend. It is time for me to take my rightful place. To again kneel at the feet of a Master. To understand we are all slaves to someone, something. To write. To bleed. To fly.....
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To link to this blog (cgarten) use [blog cgarten] in your messages.
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