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I like to write smut mainly bdsm and lesbian stories

Saturday, 30 July 2011


Well missed #wankwednesday for which the prompt was #journal but I finished this so decided to post anyway. As usual make a point of visiting Ruby's site and read the rest here.

(This is an ongoing story the last part of which you can read here. The first part is here and the second part here.  I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I am writing it).

As I sit here writing my journal I hear her in the kitchen rattling about.  I have no concept of what time it is or how long since she left me and went into the kitchen.  All I have are the marks of her love that warm me and a vague sense of time having passed.

I love her I write, I love her I write again.  I can’t seem to find the words of what has just passed yet I know I must or I will not be taken to that place that I love so much.  For her to treat me so is to teach, if I cannot then write of the lesson I have learned, then I cannot have another lesson.   I need to have written my lesson, yet still the words won’t come.

I jump as I hear a clatter come from the kitchen.   A pot the culprit, bouncing off the floor.  I turn to the page again and put pen to paper where it seeps into a large blot which I turn into a spider.  Still the words won’t come.   How do I write how she has just made me feel?  The aching and burning, becoming a faint reminder.  I shift on my knees which are beginning to ache with being bent for so long, as I do the backs of my legs sting. 
I smile as the warmth comes rushing back, today I have again learned patience.  I can wait for anything knowing that it will come now; I just have to wait and be patient.  She made me wait for a long time today of that I am sure.  There is no clock in the room so that I do not count; she removed all of them when I moved in so that I would not count.  I never know what time it is ever; just whether it is day or night.

I realise at once my lesson today; love, love is the lesson today.  She loves me, I am suddenly sure of that as I remember, I watched her in the mirror take the paddle and heard the sound of her exertion as she swung back and hit.  That grunt she made with the force of the hit each one compounded her love for me, proving how much we both need this.

I write; “love was the lesson mistress, I learned how much you love me.  I saw the love in your eyes as you strapped on the dildo and fucked me hard.  I watched you clench your fingers into my arse which you had so recently tanned with the paddle and I felt the love of what you give for me.  You let me count them as you hit, you know that I need to count.  I saw the love in your eyes as you screwed the nipple clamps on and the love shine there as you pulled the chains making the pain so exquisite.  Again as you forced my head down to watch as you fucked me with the handle of the whip.  That whip you know I hate, yet now love for the joy and the pain that the handle will come to represent and not the knotted strips which I hate.  And last the love for allowing me to come and then come again as you fucked me hard with the dildo while pulling my chains.  Today the lesson was your love.”

I sigh as I put down the pen and bend over ready for when she will come again into the room.  I do not have long to wait as I hear the door open and her breath behind me as she reads.  I know she is pleased as I feel her hand run down my back and grasp my cheek still tender digging her nails in.  With her other hand she pulls me up by the hair and whispers into my ear “I love you”.

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