Looking for the slightest hint of uncertainty.Looking for the slightest hint of uncertainty. And I dis- pensed a little goddess-like compassion and tenderness as well. Stroking his cheeks with the backs of my hands .... I wanted to show him how I would like to be treated. The next time. But I was still a goddess, in complete control and not about to relinquish it, no matter how sad and sympathetic I felt, no matter how sorry I was for what I was going to do to him. It became an ego thing for me. That's the first shameful admis- sion. I let myself go; I felt this sense of power so strongly and with such confidence that I could afford to be benevolent, compassionate, a benign goddess. But a hypocrite, because compassion should have made me release him, and I didn't. My eyes filled, I wanted to take care of him so much. And he saw my expression and looked at me like he was concerned for what I was feeling. He wanted the gag out to reassure me. He didn't know why I got teary and thought it might be something bad. I felt fine. I stroked his forehead and brushed his hair back and told him No, no, hush, it's alright, and kissed him some more. But I didn't take the gag out, didn't release him. I shaved his chest, his underarms, the tops of his feet, the backs of his arms, even the backs of his hands--fingers too-- and his legs. I nicked one of his knuckles, just a tiny nick, and sucked on his finger until it stopped bleeding. I turned him over and shaved everything I had missed, his bum (Oh, his bum. Like an adorable ripe little apple...) and finally, (of course) I turned him back over to do his naughty bits. I (reluctantly, but firmly) had to pull his knees apart by tying them to the sides of the bed. Well, I didn't HAVE to, but I did. I don't know if he felt as embarrassed as I did, first time in that position, but I blindfolded him first, the way I would have wanted to be. Tch, tch. The way my mind works. _I_ blindfolded HIM so HE wouldn't be embarrassed by what _I_ was seeing. I don't blame you. Trust me on the ostrich principle. If you think your midwestern bottom will be embarrassed right out of the mood, blindfold, blindfold, blindfold. For me, though, by candle light, it was nice; I stood with hands on hips, considering him for a moment. |