Vanilla-Xtract

She kneels on the edge of the bed, naked except for her collar, smiling at Him, aware of how tired and weary He is. He leans His head back against the headboard, sighing.

“Master” she says quietly.

“Yes, precious” He replies without opening His eyes.

“The slave thinks she may be able to help relieve some of the strain of the day with a head and neck massage. If it pleases You?” she waits for His reply.

“mmmmm that sounds perfect My slave”

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My slave is such a good girl. I’ve had nothing but a wonderful experience training her. She’s very receptive to anything I teach, and it sometimes is a challenge to stay two or three steps ahead of her. These days, I search for challenges. But when we met, I had already learned many things from my exploration of the world of BDSM or D/s. In particular, I was fascinated with how I felt when the slave would speak of herself in the third person. Of the many things I found to be arousing, I knew that this was something that would be a reminder of her position as a slave/sub, and my own as a Master/Dom. And it was something that she could be trained to do. I wanted her to do this all the time, but more importantly, I wanted her to do this naturally, without thinking. It would create a mindset, and I would know whether or not she was in “slave mode” just by listening to her. It was a speech protocol that could be used to measure her sense of submission to me at any given moment. I never reprimanded her for lack of use. Instead, I told her how arousing it is to me. I suggested that it might be arousing to her as well. She was surprised to hear this, when first introduced to the concept.

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Here is her unedited email to Me from July 7, 2009:

Caring, love, tenderness, warmth, compassion – all words that perhaps those in the vanilla world wouldn’t necessarily attribute to a BDSM lifestyle. They think it’s all about whips, ropes, hard fucking and so on. Well, yes, just because a slave and Master thrive on some of that and perhaps more does not mean that such a relationship is devoid of the capacity to empathise and care. This girl’s experience is that the relationship with her Master is a complex one but at the very heart of it is pure love.

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Here’s what we have wondered, since we’ve not been together yet…

How will she respond when I tell her to do something extreme in an ordinary context? How will I hold myself as her Master? Will I dare to give her those instructions?

We fantasize about meeting at the airport. I imagine her arrival exactly like I wrote in “Descent.” What follows that is her arrival at the gate, exiting the plane, and looking for me amongst the herd of other waiting friends and family. Finding me, she falls to her knees. But when? Will there be space for her to do this? Will she potentially be trampled? These are things I consider. But after I’ve moved with her to an open area, yet still within the public meeting area, I don’t need to worry about trampling or crowding. Instead, I wonder what might be going on in my own head. I might just smother her in hugs and kisses like all the nillas always do. Will I be able to feel my mastery in person during our first moments together, and subsequently act upon those feelings?

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Dom Depot is where you get that good kinky industrial stuff. Costco is not so erotic. However, today was a special day for the warehouse grocery store, as your Master has found something special to buy. I want to be prepared for when you arrive, and previously had not found a cushion appropriate for you to have at the house, but I now have the perfect one. I wanted to pack it up and leave it in the garage for safe keeping, so I put it there right from the car and went to the house for a protective bag to pack it in.

Can something so benign be erotic with its handling? I feel that this cushion might be such a thing. It’s material will caress your bare skin, it’s contents will cradle your body. It’s design will make kneeling easier on your knees, and it’s padding will help the duration. With joy I purchased it, and with joy I cared for it, as I would care for the treatment of your very skin.

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She kneels on her bed, with the computer propped up on the nightstand for me to see her. I tell her to tip the camera down farther so I can see the naked curve of her ass when she puts it in the air for me as she kneels. She puts her face into the mattress and I can see her spine curve up to her tailbone where her ass forms a heart shape.

She needs this. She needs to kneel to me like this because we have been apart for too long to wait until she is with me again. For her, kneeling is sustenance, it’s nourishment, it’s energy. She can’t go more than one day without imagining she’s at my feet worshiping me, her Master. She would be at my feet, kneeling in person if we weren’t an ocean and continent apart from each other right now.

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