Girls That Talk Dirty Forum Meeting Maggie

Meeting MaggieI’ve have always thought that the image that a Dom is supposed to present to the world was nowhere near the thoughts that stole into my mind during a scene.  Words like “strict”, “trained”, “beaten” and “s**t” were never the images I held in my head.  In fact I was never a fan of the submissive calling the master “Master”.  I always held that “Master” was how you described your master to someone else.  I never thought it proper to have someone call me master directly. I used to tell my favorite sub’s that “Master” was one of those grovel words and I had no interest in my submissive “groveling”. I was more concerned that they show me true respect and love for my devotion. My submissives always called me “Dear” or “Dearest” when they addressed me directly. At the very worse “Sir”. The Dom is rarely portrayed as “Being in love”.   I’ve always thought that mental picture of a Dom was such a waste of a great love scene. When I top, I top because “I love” everything she is giving me of herself. “I love” the gratitude in her eyes.  “I love” her soft moans when I strike her in just the right way. It is impossible for me to think of myself as a top without knowing that somehow, someway, I am connected to this lovely submissive being by some level of love.  She loves what I do and I love what she gives.  A simple concept that has always worked for the simple man that I am.                                                        …and then I met Maggie. It wasn’t a meeting that planned or sought out. It was just one of those things.  A note written on the website’s message board. A response that was both positive and friendly, The clumsy attempts at initial conversations and the revealing of our true needs and wants. Then climaxing in the first in-person meeting.   Maggie’s voice was soft but hardened by a lifetime of experience.  Her words and e-mails established there had been dark periods in her life and that she had suffered great embarrassment and emotional pain. The sentences and words she chose gave up her secret memories without me having to inquire.  I have always had a great intuition for other peoples’ pain.  Her story, though not spoken, was there for the learning. The tiny hesitations in her speech, her emphasis on horrific phrases and her slight nervous posture during a conversation provided me with a roadmap of her hidden emotions.  There was no need to be a magician. I had but to listen and learn.  It is never easy for me to conjure up the personality of someone from a picture they posted on the internet. They may look small, petit and happy…yet in person they may be large, tall and very sad. Maggie’s face appeared small, as did her frame. Her picture had a sad frown but in person her face radiated a wonderful smile. Maggie was a Big Beautiful Woman. Her shape was like an hourglass, yet she was full and of large proportions. Her most endearing feature was found in her eyes.  They never left you.  Maggie’s large brown eyes followed every movement you made. They appeared like the loving eyes of as happy puppy dog never letting it’s master out of its sight. The fixation of her eyes made it impossible to tell her a lie.  One look into those trusting orbs connected you to a commitment of the soul between Maggie and yourself. Her eyes made you deliver the message she was seeking, whether it be hurtful or not.  We met for the first time at a diner. In jest, I told her I would wear a straw cowboy hat, so just look for the a*****e waiting at the counter. As I brought my coffee cup to my lips, a soft voice behind me said. ” Are you the a*****e who is waiting for me?”  (One big point for Maggie!  She had a sense of humor.)  Even though I was keyed into seeing a smaller woman, I managed not to give it away when I stood up to kiss her on the cheek.  The quick kiss, however, was only incidental to our emotional connection. As I kissed her on the cheek, she placed her hand on my face and looked into my eyes.  The length of time she maintained her stare was just beginning to feel uncomfortably long and then she smiled and said, “I really like your face.”  Whatever finger was plugging that leak in the dyke of my soul, it was quickly pulled out by her soft smile and friendly welcome.  Here I was, the dark and masterful Dom, taken back by a simple smile and touch of the hand.  It happens that way sometimes.  I bade her to sit and asked what she would like to eat. As we waited for our order, we began to talk and stumble through the opening conversation we had both been anticipating for two weeks.  Most times I can pull off the foreboding Dom act by listening quietly and sternly.  Unfortunately, there was no way to just listen quietly to Maggie.  Her words and enthusiasm not only warmed your heart but also brought you right along into her dreams and excitement.  There was no doubt in my mind that she was excited.  It had been a very long time since she experienced a master and the prospect of having a new one was showing on her.  Once she began to describe what she enjoyed and what she was in to, it was like a skit on the Carol Burnett show. I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Finally, I reached out and grabbed her hand firmly and looked into her eye. She immediately stopped talking and reacted to my physical queue.  “Go slow, Maggie” I said and she immediately resumed her descriptions at a slow, deliberate pace…almost as if she had been programmed to do so at a prompt.   As she looked up at me, she became very calm and said, “You may do with me as you wish, Master”. As a Dom, I had heard women say that many times but this was the first time the words reached out and forced me to understand what she was offering. This was not  playing a role of some pre-thought up scene.  This was a happy, smiling woman looking me straight in the eyes and saying “You may do with me as you wish” with no reservations. I became hard almost immediately and began to ponder what was so special about this lovely woman. In the end, I would have to wait until our first D/s encounter to find out. We soon said our farewells, and  planned to meet the following week at a place of my choosing with no qualifications on her part.  I passed the remaining days anxious at the possibility of being with Maggie.  I have never been one to have a nervous edge about a first meeting and yet with her I was almost acting the “nervous at the first date for the prom” skit. I struggled to keep my composure intact, and I dismissed any thoughts of change of plans. I was simply bound and determined to meet this woman, dominate her as I saw fit and to breathe in the fresh air of her warm, submissive nature. The wait was worth it. On the day of our meeting, she obeyed my formal requests to a Tee. Already checked into the motel, she was waiting patiently kneeling on the floor wearing only stockings and heels, her hands held respectively behind her back and her face looking down. Looking down at her as I walked in, I said “You have made me happy, Maggie.”   Without the tiniest hesitation she said, “Your desires are my desires, my Dear. Tell me how I can make you whole.” Doms are exposed to all kinds of statements from their submissive…from “cum on my face”, to “f**k me anyway you wish” to “whip me harder” …all a part of the D/s head game played out all over the world every day….and all designed to promote humiliation, groveling and pain. It’s when a “true submissive” expresses herself from the heart by saying “How can I make you whole”, the entire game shifts to a more spiritual level and the game takes on a new meaning. This wonderful submissive now becomes the ignition point of the entire universe. One does not humiliate and beat a submissive such as this but rather provides her with the reassurance and love she seeks for that which she so willingly provides. Instructing her to bend forward and place her elbows on the floor, I slowly walked around her naked body. Her a*s was nicely shaped and invited my attention. I had already instructed her that I would deliver my attention in sets of 8-10 strokes and then I would rest momentarily.  It was here she would be required to thank me and inform me if she had any special requests for me to consider.  My light warm-up strokes came from a riding crop with a wide head. This would provide a solid foundation for hardening her skin and working into more intensive tools.  Swinging with a medium speed, my crop struck her a*s, in alternating spots, quickly and efficiently. As I paused on the 10th stroke and began to massage her bright-red areas with my hand she remarked “My pain is your pleasure, my Dear. Please show me more of your affection so I might prove to you my love.”  My whipping hand halted in mid swing. Her body was thrust out patiently waiting without reservation. She had completely upset whatever applecart I had thought I was pushing. In fact, her few words made me forget if they were apples or oranges. “Whip me more so I might prove my love.?”  The confusion of the moment made beads of sweat appear on my forehead.  I may have been the one inflicting the pain, but she was the one weaving our two emotional chains together.   Throughout the afternoon and into the early evening, our painful, loving game continued with Maggie prepping each new set of blows with remarks designed to be delivered like a spear into my lustful, dominant heart. At one point she was standing with legs positioned wide by a spreader and hands held firmly behind her head. As I prepared to strike her breasts and mound with a new set of lashes from a light and stingy flogger, she looked deep into my eyes and told me that each and every lash was a sign of the love I had for her and that she accepted them with all her heart.  By days end I was no longer sure who was master of whom.  I may have held the whip, but she was holding the entirety of my soul.  To this day, Maggie is the master of my soul! Copyright©2017Jamie Boss Sr. All Rights Reserved