Category Archives: rules

Permission

Kitten,

You are a wonderful sub and I am very pleased with you. It’s good that you wonder what things you should and shouldn’t do, what liberties a good sub can take. There really aren’t many, are there? I give you very few choices.

You have my permission to squirm, moan, and show your arousal and enthusiasm. Nothing pleases me more than to have you caught up in the moment and showing it. The only reason I haven’t told you this is that I don’t want you to feel that you have to be expressive; I want you to be carried away by real feelings, and to feel no pressure to perform in that particular way.

Kitten, it is exciting to me when you moan, when your hips move uncontrollably, when you seem to lose control and just react to what I’m doing to you — or making you do for me. The hottest thing in the world is to have you close to an orgasm while my cock is in your mouth.

So never pretend — of course — but never hold back, and never worry that you’re expressing your excitement too much. I want to see it and hear it.

You please me more than I can say, my precious and obedient sub, my dear little kitten-wife.

Love,
Q.

Jealousy

[Yes, Kitten, I know. And it pleases me. Keep pleasing me, Kitten. Sir]

Kitten,

I’m a jealous lover, and that’s something you’d best know about me: your bottom, which suffers enough already, will suffer less if you keep it in mind.

But let’s talk about jealousy, little one. There’s the jealousy that is inflamed when you talk to someone else, when you text a mutual friend, when you flirt at a party, when other men look at you while we’re out to dinner, when you spend time with your girlfriends, when you dance without me.

I don’t have that kind of jealousy. I don’t have that because I have so very much of the other kind of jealousy, the dominating kind.

There can only be one man to whom you submit, and that has to be me. You can talk, you can text, you can flirt. But I must be the only one for whom you have to look down, the only one to whom you meekly say “yes, Sir,” and the only one who takes you as I do. I must be the only one who commands you, who says “come to me, now” and knows you’ll obey. I must be the only one for whom you kneel, naked, subdued, your hands crossed before you and your eyes downcast, waiting for me to stand before you and tangle my fingers in your hair.

You can be polite to others, you can defer to others, you can let others treat you well–I want them to.

You can have female lovers, if you want: that wouldn’t bother me at all. But if you’re intimate with another man, it can’t be as you’re intimate with me. He can’t dominate you as I do. I’m the only one who gets to throw you around, who gets to take absolutely everything whenever I want, who gets to choke you with my cock, to thrust deeply into your ass, to tie you down and make you come, to push you roughly to your stomach or your back or your knees–and to do all of these things, over and over, long into the night.

I’m the only one, Kitten, who stands behind you with his hand on your throat and tells you quietly what he’s going to do with you and to you, and then waits for your “yes, Sir” before doing it. I’m the one–the only one–to whom you say “please, Sir, please fuck me in the ass now.” I’m the only one who holds your head down while you struggle with his cock in your throat.

I’m the only one you thank for coming in your mouth, on your lips, on your tongue, on your breasts–and then for making you suck my cock for a long time afterward.

I’m the kind of jealous lover who insists that I’m the only one who has those things. Others can enjoy your company, your attention–even, occasionally, your body. I’m the only one who commands you, whom you must obey, and for whom you’ll eagerly do whatever you’re told, whenever you’re told, wherever you’re told.

Do you understand me, Kitten?

Sir

And my Kitten’s reply:

Yes Sir, I understand. Your will is the only one I want to obey, I only want all of those things from you. I want to be captured only by you. I only want to be held down, tied down, caused pain, fucked and told to take everything given to me by you. I am glad we understand each other so well Sir, thank you for knowing me so intimately.

My good Kitten.

Defiance, Part II

(cont’d)

(Some of your amber beads, my dear submissive girl, may be a bit darker than others. This, were it ever to happen, would be one of those–though only slightly. There will be much darker ones.)

I reach across the table again and take your wrist in my hand and hold you, tightly. I lean toward you, looking into your eyes.

“I’ll tell you what will happen if you test me that way.

“And girl, I know why you’d have to test me. I understand: you have to know that you’re submitting to someone who really is stronger and more aggressive than you are, someone who not only can dominate you but who wants to dominate you. You can trust me, darling: you’ll never have any reason to doubt either my ability or my willingness, my desire, to dominate you. I think you’ll learn that soon enough. But, still, I understand that you might have to prove it to yourself. And I won’t let you down, girl: you’ll never have to be in charge. Not for a moment.”

I tighten my grip on your arm and pull you slightly toward me, so that you have to lean in a little and our faces are closer.

“Dear girl, the moment I believe that you’re defying me, that you’re being deliberately disobedient, I’ll take you in hand. I’ll throw you down on the bed–or the couch, or the table, or the floor if it comes to that. I’ll roll you on to your stomach, and I’ll pull your arms behind your back. I won’t be gentle about it; I won’t hurt you, but it won’t be comfortable. If you’re behaving badly, I won’t treat you gently. Not at all. I’ll pull your arms behind your back, and I’ll hold your wrists together in one hand. You know I can. You know how easy it is for me to overpower you–I’ve done it so many times. You do know that, don’t you?”

You nod, slowly, biting your lip, remembering the last time I restrained you, the strength of my hands and arms, how powerless you felt.

“I’ll hold you down, your arms behind your back. And I’ll bare your ass, dear girl–I’ll pull down your pants, if you’re still wearing them. I’ll yank down your panties. And then I’ll pause, so that you can remember what I’m telling you right now, and think about it. And if you are very submissive at that very moment, if you beg me very sweetly to do whatever it was that you refused to do, then maybe–maybe–you’ll spare yourself what follows.

“Or maybe not. I can’t have you doubting my authority over you. I can’t have you wondering, when you submit, if you’re making some terrible mistake, giving yourself to a half-hearted, indifferent, or weak-willed master. I want you always to have the comfort of knowing how dominated you really are. So begging, however sweetly, probably won’t help.

“And so I’ll spank you.”

I feel your arm tense just a little, as you recall the last time I spanked you. Though it left your bottom red and tender, it wasn’t serious: I was taking you from behind, my hand tight on the back of your neck as I pressed you down into the mattress, and I gave your ass a few sharp slaps. As you remember, your eyes get that dreamy, faraway look I like so much.

“And it’ll be a real spanking this time, girl. I’ll hold you down, your arms pinned behind you, and I’ll slap my palm against your bare ass. I’ll do it hard, and I’ll keep doing it until I make you cry. And then I’ll do it a little longer, until you beg me, through your tears, to let you do whatever it was you refused to do before.”

You look very serious now, almost alarmed. “Would you do that, really?” you ask.

“Oh, yes. Yes, I’d do that. And, my dear obedient little girl, I’d enjoy doing it. I’m hard, right now, thinking about doing it. The thought of overcoming your defiance, of making you cry as you surrender to me, that thought excites me very much. So much so that, after I finished spanking you but before you did whatever it was you’d refused to do, I’d make you suck my cock. I’d make you kneel in front of me and suck my cock until your tears stopped flowing, until you were calmed and ready to obey. And then everything would be okay again, you’d be my obedient, submissive girl again. And you’d have no doubt–no doubt at all–about who is in charge.”

Now you look relaxed, as if you were reassured by what you’ve heard.

“But you’re going to be a good girl tonight, aren’t you?” I let go of your wrist and rest my hand against your cheek, brushing the hair aside. You nod, and say “yes, sir.” And that feeling wells up in me again, that desire and need to have you–to have you right now, to have you completely. And you know it, can see it in me.

I throw a bill on the table and stand, and help you into your coat.

* * * * *

And now, my good little girl, today or tomorrow, send me your schedule. Where will you be, and when, on Monday and Tuesday? Because I wish to see you.

Defiance, Part I

“What would you do if I said ‘no?'”

You ask it innocently, with childlike curiosity. I wonder if it is the drink–your second–that has made you bold.

I smile. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. What if I said ‘no’ and refused to do what you wanted? What…what would you do?”

“Girl, you’re talking about defiance, right? Not using the safe word–you know that will always work. And not being meek and submissive, asking me please not to do something, not today: you know I’ll respond to that, if you’re submissive enough. You’re talking about defiance, about testing me.”

You pause, and take another sip of your drink, and then nod. You aren’t quite as confident now, aren’t sure if you’ve already crossed some boundary. But you haven’t; we’re in public, sitting in an out-of-town bar, just talking.

I reach across the table and brush my fingers against your cheek, then put them under your chin and gently tip your face up so you’re looking at me. “My dear little girl, I’ve thought about this.” I smile, looking into your eyes. “I wouldn’t hurt you–I’ll never do that. But it would be awful: fast, sudden, and, yes, painful. And you’d be sorry, after, that you were a bad girl. But you don’t really want me to tell you about it, do you?”

You take another sip of your drink, a little nervously, and then nod, once, quickly.

“Yes? You really want to know? Okay, dear girl.”

I reach across the table again and take your wrist in my hand and hold you, tightly. I lean toward you, looking into your eyes.

“I’ll tell you what will happen if you test me that way.”

(continued, tonight)