To the man I once called Master,
When I said you ruined me for the next Dom, I meant it. Imagining myself having the connection you and I did with anyone else just seems impossible. You were my one in a million. I can’t imagine anyone else coming close to being the Dom that you were. I can’t imagine anyone stimulating my mind the way you did. This will be my downfall, I know it will. Any Dom attempting to come into my life in the future will be unfairly compared to you. I know this is wrong and I will do my best not to do such things. It will be hard though, to tell myself to stop dreaming about what I once had and accept what I do have. You were better at this than I was. You were good at catching yourself from making comparisons when you and I were together, even if it was to tell me I was perhaps the “better” sub. I shall have to hold this lesson with me and do my best not to compare. Yes, what I had with you, I can’t have with anyone else, because they are not you! They will never be you! I must embrace them for who they are and enjoy what I can have with them. Even if my heart aches for what it once had.
You caught my attention immediately from the very first message you sent me. I was hooked. Something about how you spoke to me in written words grabbed me. I responded immediately, taking my time just like you had. Before I knew it, we were spiraling into each other. We were feeding off of each others words. We checked our email constantly and instantly smiling once we received a message from each other.
Oh those beautiful words we wrote to each other. Not just the beginning, but for all the months to follow. It’s all we had, really. It’s what connected us the most. Those beautiful, poetic words. Sometimes I felt like my heart would burst from my chest. Such happiness, adoration, passion and lust for each other.
You inspired me. I reached new poetic heights as we wrote to each other. I reached new places in my mind when I wrote my erotica inspired by you. I loved writing for you. I loved having that inspiration to write about what ever came to mind. Sometimes, it was dark. I embraced my darkness with you. I didn’t care who knew or who was watching. I felt like me when I was with you. I felt like it didn’t matter how dark or twisted I got, you would be right there beside me, holding my hand and even urging me forward.
You became my rock during my lonely and difficult times. Perhaps I depended on you a little too much at times, but you became my confidant. I trusted you with my mind, body and secrets.
Our first meeting ignited our flame and we became instantly bonded. All was suddenly right in the world, wasn’t it? How glorious our meeting was. It was like a dream come true to have you in my apartment for the very first time. Our first meeting was many weeks in the making. Do you remember how I just couldn’t get over finally seeing you in person? I couldn’t stop touching you. I couldn’t stop breathing you in. I didn’t want to let you go. I had to though. I had to wake up from the dream and face the reality that, yes, you were in my apartment.
No one is ever going to look at me the way you did. No one ever has before. You took your time with me. You left me clothed for quite some time. You either stood in place and had me turn for you or you had me stand in place while you walked around me. It didn’t matter which, but every meeting between us was the same. I stood and you watched, admiring every inch of my body. Not just with your eyes either. No, you used your hands too. I’ll always remember the feel of your palms and fingertips as they grazed over my skin. You liked to touch every inch of my body. You wanted to know it inside and out.
You loved my hands. I don’t know why my hands, but you did. You told me they looked like the hands of a woman who’s worked hard and they show their age. It was never an insult and I knew what you meant. They look like the hands of a 30 something woman who has a few stories to tell. You adored my small hands.
But it was my breasts you loved the most. You were crazy about them. It was your adoration for them that actually made me realize just how lovely my breasts are. It was because of you I began feeling more comfortable not wearing a bra again. You were in awe of them. You simply could not believe how large AND firm they were. You couldn’t keep your hands off of them. Sometimes you’d have to watch yourself or your vise grip was just too much for me to take. It was my breasts you enjoyed marking up the most. Taking your time to create beautiful artwork on my plump flesh with all your many tools. Especially, the red lunge whip. How I hated (but loved) it when you would flick the very tip of the whip against my breasts. Occasionally you’d land on my nipple and I’d yelp.
I asked you once what made you look at me and want to hurt me and caress me at the same time. You said it was everything and yet nothing at all. It just simply was. I asked you if you ever wanted to make me cry. You said no. Of course, you would not be upset or turned off if I did, but it was never your intention. No, you wanted me to fight. Crying, to you, was a symbol of me not overcoming what you were dishing out, but when I embraced it instead and pushed myself over the pain and growled at you, that’s what you loved the most.
I remember the joy of feeling my ass marked by you. Remember the game we played? Trying to see who would last longer, your hand or my ass? Did we ever declare a winner? I think we both won that day. I loved the feel of your hand spanking my ass. I loved the feel of everything you did on my backside. Remember the glorious marks the nylon cane left? Those were beautiful weren’t they? I loved how the cane left a raised welt I could feel for days. I remember the whip you brought over once. Oh the marks that one left! You’d use my own body to wrap the whip around and allowing it to gain momentum. And there was also the crop. The crop you bought with me in mind.
You had a way with all these tools. I learned knew methods from you. You knew how to make things hurt just right. Like your method of smacking me with a crop and leaving the crop right where it landed, instead of lifting it up and readying it for another smack. Leaving the crop in place after it smacked me resulted in a very heated sting. I both loved and hated this feeling.
Remember how well you trained my ass. You wanted me to be your little anal slut. This made me nervous as I was never into anal sex because it always hurt. You were determined though, to make me into your little anal slut and you did. It was under your direction and careful training, that I achieved what you (and I) always wanted. That first time you slipped your cock into my ass was a wonderful feeling. It was wonderful for you as well wasn’t it? *wink* I wish we had had more time together. I really enjoyed being fucked in the ass by you. I had dreamed of having an ass full of your cum in the future.
You enjoyed my tight little cunt too didn’t you? Of course, back then, it was your tight little cunt. I remember the first time you slipped inside me and I squeezed my muscles around you. The look of surprise on your face was priceless. Oh and when I orgasmed around you, I thought you were going to faint. Were you afraid I was going to snap it right off? *grins*
I loved that when we spoke or spent time together, I made the muscles of your mouth ache. I made you smile so much, it would start to hurt. I liked knowing that before me, you didn’t smile enough. I liked being the one to put that smile on your face.
I liked your glasses and how you looked in them. I loved the brilliant color in your eyes. I loved your eyes and the many looks they had. You sometimes had a very charming and boyish look to you, but then a switch would turn on and your dominant side would come out. I loved how the corners of your eyes and lips would crease as you smiled.
I loved how goofy you were at times as we snuggled in the bed in between scenes and while in orgasmic bliss. I loved how your nose got instantly congested just seconds after an orgasm.
I loved giving you orgasms. Especially when I gave them to you by my mouth. I will never forget the day I treated you to a stellar oral orgasm. It gave me such pleasure to please you in such a way. I could do it over again and again.
I liked the quiet moments where all we did was look at each other and touch. You had a spot I adored so much. I said that I thought I adored it because it looked a bit feminine. My hands felt good running along that spot, just above the hip bone and along the curve of your sides. I can imagine my hands running along your sides now. Bliss.
I loved that you were always in a suit when you came to see me. You always kept it on during our interactions. It was extremely arousing for me to be nude for you and you were still dressed in your suit as you had your way with me. Of course, you generally removed your tie and suit jacket to be a tad more comfortable. I’m sure there were times when it would have been even more comfortable to remove the trousers, but I admit to enjoying the sight of your erection pressing against the fabric.
Your first time ever coming to see me, you never removed that suit. You gave to me several orgasms by hand, but never once took anything from me in return. I was shocked. Really, I was. To say I was expecting you to fuck me was an understatement. It came as a huge surprise that you would control yourself and opt not to fuck me. You wanted to focus on just us and the moment and D/s. I grew a huge amount of respect for you that day. I also knew you were somebody extremely special from that moment.
I and often times, we, had a few firsts together. I finally got to experience breath play with you. I trusted you. I knew I would be safe with you. Who knows if I’ll ever revisit it with another. Our darker side got the best of us as we explored piss play together. It was once something I thought very disgusting, but with you, I wanted to be your little piss whore. It’s just one of the many examples of how you truly got under my skin and bled into my mind. I would have bled for you. You know this. I’m sure we would have gotten there at some point in the future. Fuck, I would have ripped out my own heart for you if it didn’t mean I would have to die.
Yeah, you really fucked me up in the head and I loved you for it.
Here’s something I never told you… You know in the beginning, I think by our second meeting, you were waiting on a very important package? You told me it was a very special item. In my head, I was certain it was a collar. I was convinced it was a collar that you had special ordered and had to wait awhile in order to receive it. I was so excited as I let this little fantasy take flight. I couldn’t wait to wear your collar. I was a little disappointed that day when the special package turned out to not be a collar. But only a little. Everything else between us more than made up for it. I would have happily worn your collar, but you know this.
The very first painting I ever made was for you. My special gift to my special Master on his special day. I hope it’s something you will cherish for the rest of your days. I made it with love and happiness.
I gave you a key. A very small key. Though it belonged to a lock (one used to lock a collar in place), I made it the physical symbol of my submission. It was a tiny gift, one I wanted you to be able to carry around with you at all times. I wanted it to fit into your pocket so you could take me with you every where you went. If you were having a stressful day, all you would have to do is slide your hand inside your pocket and run your fingers along the key and you would know I was with you. This key has perhaps been tucked away in hiding now. I hope that one day, when you come across it, you will think of me fondly.
We’ve shared some intimate and private moments. During our chats I learned just how much of a geek you could be, and I adored you more for it. See? Your secret is still safe with me. I won’t reveal your once a month, guilty and geeky pleasure.
I was never any good at goodbyes with you. Truth is, whenever you came over to see me, I was already thinking of the fact that I would have to say goodbye in a few hours. It was like my subconscious knew each meeting could be our last. Having to say goodbye after our few hours together always brought tears to my eyes because I never knew just when I would see you again. I always ran the risk of never seeing you again. So I often cried for a few minutes after you left. You were always more positive than I. You asked me to please try being more positive. You told me, “our goodbye is simply the beginning to when we will see each other again.”
Thank you for the memories. Thank you for the moments you shared with me.
I say goodbye in the hopes it begins a new journey ….
With love always,
Mina
© At Longings End
