Musings of a Dom .... D/s relationships through the eyes of a Dom

I am sure many can relate to the feeling of post orgasmic bliss. The way you feel the morning after an intense scene.  It doesn’t matter if it was online, on the phone or in a dream. You lie in bed, recounting the steps from the night before. The stirring sensation, the ache, the longing to capture that moment. The struggle to get out of bed, and detach from those feelings. I had that experience this morning. Today I woke up with … morning wood, and thoughts of you .

The alarm rings in the distance....
Not wanting to move
Morning wood evidenced in my boxers

Pulsating with thoughts of you

Sounds of last night's desperation

Adrenaline coursing through my veins

Remembering the words that fueled my desire

Please Sir, may I cum"......

I lifted  her chin, forcing her eyes to meet mine

Do you think you suffered enough whore?

Do as your told, and don’t ask again!

Your orgasms belong to me now 

She stifled a whimper...
Barely audible, yet it resonates to my core
Hips gyrating, fingers buried, just as I had ordered
I grin.....knowing what will come next

Pull your fingers out … Now!

My command is firm, words not to refuse
"Do you feel empty Whore?"
She manages a pathetic…”Yes Sir!”

Voice filled with desperation

As I shout my next command

She obeys, as I say the words she longs to hear…

The alarm continues to ring in the distance

Morning Wood, now overflowing, with thoughts of you! 

~WW

We have all been there ... the beginning of the end. The part where you rationalize all the reasons to stay. The endless nights of restless sleep. That constant feeling in your gut, that you wish would go away. The incessant thoughts that won’t give you peace.  All of this begs the question .. how do you know it’s over ?

You know it’s over ...

When …

the music stops, the dance ends

leaving only shadows on the wall

When …

memories flicker and fade into black

like fireflies in a glass jar

When …

the winds of change no longer carry

their scent

When …

love morphs into indifference

like the numbing effect of an opiate

When …

the last curtain drops

no more encores, just an empty stage

and ...

one

         final

                  goodbye

* Never forget, when one door closes, another one paves the way to a new beginning.

~WW

Kneeling

Waiting

Anticipation

Rising

Brutal strength of his passion

the force of him, coaxing her to abandon

fucking

harder

markings

sweeter

Breaking her crumbling barrier of resistance

she surrendered without thought

Desire

Dripping

Abandonment

Inevitable

Freedom found … in the taking

1) Your opening line is to demand a submissive  call you sir

2) The only thing you can claim, is your self appointed title ... Dom

3) You believe calling yourself a Dom makes you one !

* Note; A True Dom is not defined by his title . A True Dom defines his title  

  Ps

I suggest you do a little reading before you darken another submissive’s door again !!!

Allow me to further your education. 

Books:

keywords=Warren+The+Gentle+Dominant&qid=1562208711&s=gateway&sr=8-2-fkmr0

It doesn’t matter how many times I have seen this, felt this, I will always marvel at the indescribable beauty of a submissive in this state. A time when the connection, the gift of trust is at its peak. The moment you know your submissive is given you her all ... through her gift you were able to break the chains that bound her her .
It is at this moment I know that she is .....Mine.

Addendum;:

I feel compelled to add, I was able to take my submissive to subspace, even in an online relationship. Difference is, before an online scene , I always make sure my submissive has a blanket, something to drink , and a treat to reward herself ... it’s usually chocolate. I then talk her through this . It is then I provide after care. I should note, this is totally dependent on the dynamics between a Dom and his sub.

Warning: This video contains some partial nudity 

( give it a few seconds, the music will change$

We are all broken, to one degree or another. We all have stories, some worse than others. Most have felt the pain of lies, deceit, and betrayal. Only to leave emotional turmoil in its wake. Whether it be a Dominant, submissive, a man or a woman, when we are betrayed we lose hope, we lose faith, both in ourselves, and others. However, this is counterproductive and just perpetuates the pain. .What if there is hope ? What if someone were to come along and help heal you ? What if someone could help put you back together? This is a story of hope and healing. It’s my once upon a time...

                                                                               Broken Lily

A soft knock, carried in by the wind, reached his doorstep ... eyes cast downward, broken and battered, she appeared.

One lone lily in the field,

stark white shining.

Petals torn and tattered by winter's frost ... a blanket of darkness her only cover. He looked with disbelief and wonder. Bewildered that someone would trample such a delicate flower.

With strong open hands, he gently lifted her from the ground, and carried her to a window,

to bask in the sunlight ... he held her to his chest,

as the warm rays touched her.

Soon, a soft rain began to fall.

He opened her mouth so she could drink from the spring rain

Deep rooted and strong she emerged

The scent of fresh linen rising through sanguineous musk

Lifting her once again … her petals now soft and firm … no longer threadbare and broken.

He held her tight, and in that moment she knew…

In his hands she would be protected from the storm.

~ WW

                     
Strapped to my altar                     
waiting for me to ravage             
her moral center             
           
The universe starts to resist ...           
                 
Teeth sink into original sin                     
spilling the wine of her communion                       
while the walls bleed her pain                     
                     
Immoral virgin splayed open                       
black and blue ... her penance                       
for swallowing my fury                       
                     
Unleashed cobra ... eastern king               
slithers inside, stretching               
her resolve                     
             
Venom oozing     
he strikes ...
claiming his prey        
       
Her conception ... no longer       
immaculate    

~WW

( give it a few seconds )

The beauty is in rhythm of the movements. The flow of two bodies dancing as one. Every step, every action, a reaction. Isn’t that what we do?

Is that not the dance between a Dominant, and his submissive 

The D/s Tango ... A Dance of Submission 

They enter as one
He ... extends his hand, waiting for her acceptance
She ... curtsies, her demure gaze beckoning him like a siren's song
He ... gazes at her with unnerved thoroughness

The dancehall is like no other
No pictures adorn the walls
Her body, the only canvas he will need tonight
Colored solely by the lash of his whip

One lash...two lash....back lash...pause
Back arched, she absorbs the feel of him

One step...two step...back step...pause
Red stripes sink into a lily white canvas

Three lash...four lash...front lash...pause
Soft whimpers echoing through the hall

Parallel foot... cross foot...double time
The aching tension between them builds

Brazen hands breach her every defence
With the onslaught of raw physical desire

Legs spread open
He ... presses her back and takes his fill

Shuddering with desire
She ... relentlessly, moves her hips against his

Their bodies collide
Deep into the vortex of heady sensations

Radiating in each others heat
Soaked with Sin and temptation

The music stops....until the next dance begins

~WW