Softening

My Owner was in the kitchen, working on dinner, when I walked up behind her, softly knelt and offered up the soft, supple lavender collar.

She turned around, smiled and buckled it into place, one hand tangling tightly in my hair afterward.

My body softened, as it always does in that hard-to-describe way. And the evening continued.

The evening continued, much as it otherwise would have, for the next several hours.

In that time, we had dinner. I gave Syr a foot rub. We had a miscommunication and I had a learning opportunity when I mishandled the situation. A reminder that often all I need to do to right a wrong in those moments is stop talking - which I eventually did (baby steps!).

In so many ways, like so many other evenings... but that softness. That hard-to-describe receptiveness. It's not about perfection. It's not about night and day differences. It's subtler. Sweeter. Simpler. Real.

I snuggled up to Her and asked if She maybe was up to beating me. It was late. And Syr reminded me of the time I'd wasted with my poor behavior earlier. Contrite, I hide my face against Her chest and apologized for the loss of time.

A kiss on the forehead. Acknowledgement of the lesson learned. Forgiven.

"Go make me a tea." She commanded. I obeyed.

As I waited for the kettle to boil, Syr decided She would go get the needles.

I poured the tea and, as I stood there, waiting for the proper amount of steeping time, I watched Syr's gloved hands moving over the supplies She'd laid out. I whimpered. I hesitated.

Syr had me bring the tea right away, not fully steeped so that it could steep closer to Her and I could have less excuse for stalling. And so I obeyed.

Nervous and whimpery and shaky as She opened the alcohol prep pad, eyes glinting evilly as She swiped it across my nipples.

If exclamation points had a sound, that's the sound I made.

Not one to miss an opportunity, Syr capitalized on my frightened noises and made comments about piercing my nipples, one direction and then another...  I knew She this was likely just fear-play.

But what if it wasn't? I mean. It probably was. But there was always a chance.

And there was this moment, when even though I knew that She was likely just messing with me, that I knew I trusted Her. I'm not sure exactly if that meant that if She decided to pierce my nipples I would let Her or if it meant that I knew down deep in my bones that She wouldn't do anything unsafe or that was too much for me to handle (likely the latter) - but in either case, there was this... further softening.

I'm sure that from Syr's position, that softening was completely undetectable.

I mean, on the outside, I was still wiggly and whimpery and squirmy and nervous.

But on the inside, I was filled with trust and surrender and submission.

I guess that probably won't make any sense when read. But it is still the truth.

Syr settled on the flesh above my nipple. I was all eeky about it. It had been a while since we'd played with needles. The first slid in almost too easily, the familiar pinch/poke when it comes out the other side... that is always the ouchiest point for me. Another followed on the other side. A matching set. Two more near the first ones for a total of four needles.

Each one still scary.

Still... perhaps I wanted more. Perhaps I don't always know what I want, though.

She played with them a little.... and I enjoyed looking at them. She often does needles in my back... but I think I might prefer them in front. I guess it's hard to say.

And then She had me go get Her something to beat me with. Sting was covered by the pokey needles in my breasts, so I went for thud and grabbed the flogger and the Nerf bat. And the stool and a pillow for my knees.....

Floaty from the needles and the tiny little drop of blood on my breast (so innocuous, really, but so potent anyway), I draped myself over the stool.

I had to be still. Because pokey things still in my breasts!

Syr began with the bat and it hurt. A lot. I have mixed feelings about the bat. It's thuddy, I guess. But it's almost kind of slappy. And I don't know. I think I like it. But I think I like it for the deeper feeling of it after. Sometimes I think it stings. Sometimes I don't know what I like. Or what I need. But then - that's what my Owner is for. ;)

And then the flogger.

Syr stood beside me. Behind me. And in front of me. She focused, primarily, on my upper back/back of shoulders.

At one point, She moved beside me, Her left palm pressing me down, hand firm in my middle back... Her right hand swinging the flogger at the sweet spot of my upturned bottom.

Heaven.

She got into a rhythm I could feel through my entire body when She moved back to my back.

The best rhythm was when She stood in front of my head, lifted my hair with one hand to pull my head into the place where Her upper thighs touch to hold it in place, and went at my upper back from above.

Something about the rhythm and intensity started to feel familiar and yet not. Her flogger is short, but Her strokes more confident than maybe ever before. The rhythm felt even and I felt myself sinking. Sinking.

At one point I asked if She would consider moving behind me again... because everything felt so perfect but I was mentally having trouble wrapping my brain around being flogged "upside down"... because, you see, every other time I've been flogged I've been standing, the strokes going from shoulders down.... but because Syr was above my head and swinging down, the strokes felt like they were going up (well they were...) and my brain was not processing the change.

She decided to grant my wish and moved to another angle and I almost immediately regretted asking for a change. Why was I overthinking? Who was in charge. I admitted my error and Syr chuckled and moved back to where She was and I ... got lost.

It all gets blurry around and in-between these moments because... well.. sub space.. I think She used the bat more. I think She flogged my bottom more. I know at some point She pulled the needles out because I remember the sharp intake of breath at their removal... the sting... and the intoxication of seeing the tiny little dots of blood.

I don't remember how or when exactly Syr decided playtime was over.

I do remember curling up between her legs as She sat on the couch and wrapped me up in Her arms and gave me some sips of water.

I do remember holding Her so tight, fingers digging into Her back, that moment of aftercare when what I want is to fuse our two bodies together because close isn't close enough in that moment.

Other than that, the rest of the night is all mushed together into a blob of happy and soft. :)