Let the Friday countdown begin! Only 6 more hours until I’m in Sir’s arms again! (honestly my countdown starts on Sunday evenings when we’re saying goodbye – as in I literally keep a timer on my phone so I can watch every single second pass by until it’s Friday night again).
As a submissive in a fully committed 24/7 D/s long distance relationship, I often feel like I’m wishing most of my life away. From Monday through Friday, I’m just surviving, just putting one foot in front of the other and counting the seconds until Friday night comes and I’m back where I belong, at Sir’s feet. Then I get to spend 48 glorious hours in intense, passionate, joyous, subspace before I’m ripped away from my Owner to start the 5 days of survival all over again.
I try to find some moment of real happiness in each and every day. To find a reason to smile, to find a reason to laugh. But without my Sir with me, it’s almost impossible. I feel like only half of a person. I’m like the toys in Toy Story without their kids/owners. I need my owner. I need to be loved and played with. I need him to be whole. And when you aren’t whole, you aren’t really living.
It’s like these lyrics:
Some days you just breath in
Just try to break even
Sometimes your heart's pounding out of your chest
Sometimes it's just beating
But enough of that, because today I get to LIVE! Today my Sir comes home to me.
Friday brings about one of my favorite routines. Every Friday Sir chooses my dress, shoes, bra and panties (or lack thereof), and hair style. I’m always dressed to his specifications when we meet at the airport. I love the look in his eyes when he sees me; a mixture of love, hunger, and pride. It’s the perfect balm for my needy submissive soul after 5 days apart. He scoops me into his arms and holds me like a man who’s coming home from war. He kisses me with passion and possession and he whispers sweet words in my ear. In these moments he’s my lover and I am his. He’s my owner, my best friend, my whole entire world.
The drive home is usually filled with recounts of our days and our travel and the plans for our weekend. Sometimes we play. Sir tells me to remove my panties and he tortures me, one hand on the steering wheel and one hand driving me over the edge. Sometimes Sir lets me taste him, to do my very best to distract him from the long drive home. And when we get home, he becomes the Wolf and I am his prey. He is my Alpha, my Master, and I am his kitten, his toy, his favorite play thing. He uses me, worships my body, and hurts me in all of the best ways.
When he tucks me in with my most favorite stuffie, I’m covered in welts and bite marks, exhausted from numerous orgasms, and smiling so contently, so at peace and he whispers his final command, “go to sleep, kitten”
=^.^=