The untended garden grows thorns and blood, fed on roses

Desire assaults
Each stir
Each turn
That tumultuous ache
Seeing a picture
Hearing a song
Memories burst in full
Each key turned blooms full into images of her
Unable to get away
Torn between the dream of her
Pushed away desires
Needs creeping in
Hearts dwell in the fantasy of might be
Every unaware moment
Pulled awake
burn on silent tongues
Her voice echos
wish it were merely loneliness
Loneliness fades
She only grows stronger

Nightmares are also dreams Part 21-Pel

I watched from the archway. Sunlight through the gauze day curtains soaking into hardwood and emitting the soft glow of reflection. Tara, all tall and wearing her scars inside her, drew her nude body down onto the silk sheets. Her eyes lost for a moment while she ran her hand against the silk. Lost in sensuality or memory for a moment. She reaches for Mr. Fox. A two foot long anthropomorphic fox dressed in overalls, soft faux fur covering plush. Huggable and squishable.

Tara teases Mr. Fox along Sara’s body. And I’m lost in the sensuality of it. Yet this is in direct contradiction of my order. And still I find myself unwilling to break the tableau. Unwilling to reassert my will. The thought of Tara, blood spattered and shell shocked from earlier, pauses in my mind.

Does she try to find control in the act of sensuality. In knowing she has nothing to fear from Sara. Especially in the coiled serpent of the hind brain which sees prey tied down and helpless. However, false the image is. Quick release cuffs and desire are all that hold Sara to the bed.

Did she make the conscious decision to act counter to order or is this impulse? In a way, it is irrelevant. At some future point, I will need to punish her for it. Not what she does but that she failed to ask permission to do it. I’ll keep it in the back of my mind but I won’t be using it today.

She acted in accordance with her rage earlier and she finds herself empty now. And wants to fill that hole with love and comfort. I know that feeling. And I want to encourage her to indulge in this appropriate space.

Despite what is often portrayed, being a Master is not about the scene. Scenes are negotiated ahead of time.

Being a Master is seeing what occurs and acting in accordance with the spirit of the rules you’ve laid out. It’s holding your submissives in your heart and always acting from a place of love.

This infraction by Tara will result in something small like a extension of a time out when she does something else which is a infraction. Something which hurts the dynamic or is an obvious bid for punishment.

Had Sara done the same thing, I would know that the punishment she would incur would have been a part of why she did it. And I would indulge her in something brutal and creative. Because, for her, this is the dynamic we’ve agreed upon.

Some may argue that I am too much in my head on these things. Or complain that I don’t adhere to a single rule set. But really, it’s all about taking care of my loves in the ways that they desire and need.

What can be known in the hidden heart

The space to allow love is one of the most important things in life. I have no larger point to make. Just that passion and love are the most powerful reasons to do anything. And when we allow that space for love, we are hurt. Pain is definitely a part of it. But also, moments of purity of heart, moments where we are love, if only for a few moments.
And any time I see love, a part of me feels triumphant and also despair. Which combines into a kind of melancholy ache and salt filled wound, coupled with a broken note of hope and beauty realized.

Opened to connection, she makes herself known, I await full of ponder

In every drop of rain I feel her on my skin
Each cold gust, shivers through
And the taste of salt and pheromones
Pushes against my consciousness
Shifting wind driven walls of water beat staccato rhythms against my roof
Half reverie half dream
I feel her heat pressing over, onto
The ecstasy of her mind
Spilling and bleeding from one dream to reality
Heavy tumescence making clear connection
No distance no factor
Her spirit makes love to mine
Whole, I awake, not empty
But full of longing
One more minute
This time let us look into each other
Never to part
Despite distance
Despite circumstance
You are mine