What They Don't See

What they see is a woman who is shamelessly flaunting cleavage, but what they do not see is the mixture of shame and pride at dressing to please Lord. I am not, by nature, one to expose myself such, but because He requested that I dress this way, I do so. The light in His eyes brings me great pride because I am able to push down my own reservation and put His pleasure before my own. Dressing in this manner doesn't hurt me in the least, therefore, there is no good reason for me to Parlay and refuse him.

They see a woman confidant in her own body so much so that she is unafraid to show it off. They don't see my shyness. They don't see that without Lord I would never have learned to be comfortable in my own skin. They don't see that he has taught me to focus on the positive and to accept the negative. Actually, that is not true. He has taught me there are no negatives to my body, just uniqueness.

What they don't see means so much more than what they do see. They don't see the mixture of our combined dried cum still clinging to my thighs, a sign that He both gave and took His pleasure of me.

They don't see the love and respect He holds for me. They don't see that I choose to lie over His lap so that He can spank me to tears and help me release all of the tensions of the day. They don't see the my submission is my choice, not His, at least not in the beginning. They don't see that it was I and not He who wanted this lifestyle. Now, though, He has embraced this lifestyle as fully as I have.

What they don't see is that the plug I now wear in my ass is not an act of oppression, but an sign of my freedom to show my love for Him as I choose. Yes, the plug is uncomfortable. Yes, I will be grateful when He removes it. Yes, I'm constantly wet because of the constant reminder that He placed it inside of me and only He can take it out.

They see only my nipples, hard as bullets, poking through the think cotton of my dress. They don't see the self control it takes to endure the pinching of the clamps He attached to them this morning. They don't see how wet it made me when he made love to me doggy style and the pretty silver chain swayed with each powerful thrust of his body into mine. They don't see that even the soft brush of the lightest fabric against them is enough to make me smile and remember the hungry look in his eyes when he removed the clamps and saw how plump and red my nipples had become.

They see a woman who checks in with her man before making any major decision. They presume that I am frighten or, at least, oppressed. What they don't see is that I consult Lord as often as he consults me. They don't see the respect and love we share. They don't see that I am not asking permission to have a drink with my friends after work, but that I am simply informing him so that he won't worry if I am late. I am informing him just in case he has other plans that I am not aware of. I am informing him because I respect him.

What they don't see is that we make love three or four times a week. That when I kneel before him to worship his spectacular cock I am pleasing myself as much as him. That I hunger for his cock inside of me - anywhere inside of me. That when he pushes me to try new ideas I learn new pathways of passion. That every time I call him Lord I tingle all over.

They don't see that when I strip naked and bend over the dining room table so that he can flog my ass and thighs with the occasional well aimed tongue licking my wet pussy that I am as far from being abused as one can get. I yearn for this release, this glory, this pleasure. They don't see that I need this submission in order to be whole.

What they don't see is that I wouldn't live my life any other way.