Before I met you … I’d had experiences, but nothing like this. I never let myself have feelings for the select others that I had tried any of this with until I met you. When I met you … I didn’t want to dominate you at first. All I wanted was to sit down and talk with you, and to brush that crazy hair behind your ears. It’s so adorably curly, and I wouldn’t change it for anything.

I remember the first time we had sex like it was yesterday. Hours ago, even. You had initiated it, and I simply followed your lead. And I’d never done that before – not like that. It all felt so new and overwhelming, to feel so passionately about someone, and to show them with such care and consideration. I remember wanting to stop everything because I was afraid I’d hurt you somehow, in the long run even. That was the last thing I ever wanted to do. All I wanted was for you to be happy. I was and still am so in love with you that I put you first, even as badly as I wanted to satisfy my craving for you.

To my surprise, you reacted to every small thing that excited me – the nails dragged over your arms and back and pinning your arms over your head – you enjoyed all the things I was trying to hide from you.

You see, this journal’s purpose – whatever that is – can also be to reveal the very moment I knew I wanted you this way: to be all mine, to belong to me.

The moment you whispered “please” to me with that beautiful desperation that very first time we made love, I knew. Sure I didn’t say anything to you then or for a while after, but I knew immediately. I had my fingers inside of you, looking down at you, and you had your head tilted back, still meeting my eyes. “Please …” you pleaded so patiently and meaningfully that I lost my breath. I often think of that moment and smile, because it’s what brought us to where we are today. And you, my love – my precious slave – have made my life worth living.

Well, I suppose it’s time to get back to bed and satisfy you at last. After all, the whimpering and begging does get a little distracting when one is trying to write.

Love,
Your Dedicated Domme

It still amazes me to this day how much I get off on anything she does. Every touch she gives, every kiss she takes, it makes my head spin. I would do anything just to be close to her sometimes. Is this an obsession?
I hope not! Those are bad, aren’t they?

When I read what she wrote, it made me think about the first time I ever knew that I wanted something more with her. And actually, it was before she even touched me at all. It was the way she walked into the room after me. I remember that I was sitting on the bed, a little nervous I might add, and she walked into the room with a look in her eyes that I couldn’t quite place. It was like she was afraid to come too close, and it was so very sexy. She had her hands balled up, and a little concern painted on her face before she looked over at me, and everything just turned into one of her enlightened smiles. I could tell that she wanted so much more with me, but she wouldn’t let herself ask it. I wanted to ask it! I wanted to know what it was, and what troubled her, but I didn’t ask either until much later in the game. Tina oh Tina, why did you hold it in for so long?

Our first time … there’s nothing quite like that moment, is there? And there’s nothing quite like the way you touch me like you own me, because you do. Did you know I would do anything you asked me to? Is that why you’re so careful when we try something new? Is it because you know I’ll be willing?

She is the love of my life, and often the cause of much torment. And boy do I like that paddle of hers …