Naked before him - CMnf

[melimelissa]

The bed, is neither safe nor sound
Once in bed, one is bedded,
And bedded, tethered in knotted
Tether, there can be no rest,

My bed is quite sound and quite safe
For I use an Uzi to strafe
Monsters under the bed,
And those who are wed
To causing trouble - goodness sake!

Méli

 

[melimelissa]

Most of the images and opinions here are about nudity as a part of supplication and submission. And while stirring in their own right, I would like to offer a counter proposal.

The choice of nudity as a mark of confidence, power, and comfort.

Supplication implies duty and obligation. It may be spoken or unspoken, but it exists. Taking the case of a male dominant and a female submissive, their bond requires an obligation to each other.

The obligation of the dom is to take care of her. To make her feel safe. To push her in inches so she grows, but doesn't break. To help her explore that which she craves but needs a trusted hand to hold hers and walk her down that path.

And the obligation of the submissive is to follow his instructions. To hear his words and make them her own. To heed his voice and will and see it done to the best of her abilities.

But what if we stray from that path for a moment and take another. Where nudity is given, not freely, but in return for a deeper understanding and comfort.

Picture, if you will, a woman's confidence in her form that transcends submission. A confidence in her skin beyond the desire to please. A will to strip that needs no commands, only acceptance.

It seeks no validation.

It may be done in submission, but not out of duty to another. The submission here is to oneself, to one's own trustest self, to the core of the soul that calls out in the back of one's mind and reassures, that it's ok. It's normal. It feels good. It brings joy.

It feels right.

So while we share images and desires of submission and supplication, consider this my humble ode to those few who walk unashamed in their own skin, for their own sake.

I like your analysis, Sir,
But, alas, in practice, men prefer
To break any rule,
As they find it uncool
That D/s allows pets to concur.

Whatever submissives agree,
A man will push back. He can see,
When he is in charge,
His thoughts must be writ large;
Well, larger than his small pipi.

I am unashamed in my skin,
And I love to please: pleasing him
Is core to my being,
Liberating, and freeing,
And, when it's rules based, it's win-win.

Méli

 

[NivKay]

I like your analysis, Sir,
But, alas, in practice, men prefer
To break any rule,
As they find it uncool
That D/s allows pets to concur.

I beg to differ,
and perhaps offer
a paradigmatic revision
to the D/s theologian's
view of the world.

I would venture that
For every flesh-whipped canvas,
there is also another dimension
Of the D/s dialectic,
an erotic sensibility
that oozes sensuality:
Mind-fuckery

 

[calmlikeabomb]

I like your analysis, Sir,
But, alas, in practice, men prefer
To break any rule,
As they find it uncool
That D/s allows pets to concur.

Whatever submissives agree,
A man will push back. He can see,
When he is in charge,
His thoughts must be writ large;
Well, larger than his small pipi.

I am unashamed in my skin,
And I love to please: pleasing him
Is core to my being,
Liberating, and freeing,
And, when it's rules based, it's win-win.

Méli

What some may prefer,
Is to be called "Sir",
But it's a big world out there,
Away from this obscure online lair,
Where facts and fiction forcefully blur,
And reality often obfuscated with flair.

And who really holds the power?
When someone pretends to cower,
And whose greed is really sated,
When another supplicant is skilfully baited,
Dangled along till the scent is sour,
And another begs to have his ego inflated.

To be unashamed is to be truly free,
And a collar may make you truly see,
That desires bound are worse than death,
And a lash on flesh is the liberating breath,
A prisoner takes when finally set free,
Taking "Sir", "Master", "Please" as her shibboleth.

But freedom is not a game with winners,
Nor pain solely the domain of sweet sinners,
With a hand on throat, or words harshly spoken,
"Rules are only meant to be broken",
Monsters malicious lure in beginners,
Innocent Meat with dreams newly awoken.

A collar sometimes does not set you free,
And tears of anguish may not let you see,
That salvation sought will never be found,
Your spirit is broken, you will be drowned,
Unless, on your collar you find the key,
To the new prison in which you are bound.

 

[melimelissa]

What some may prefer,
Is to be called "Sir",
But it's a big world out there,
Away from this obscure online lair,
Where facts and fiction forcefully blur,
And reality often obfuscated with flair.

And who really holds the power?
When someone pretends to cower,
And whose greed is really sated,
When another supplicant is skilfully baited,
Dangled along till the scent is sour,
And another begs to have his ego inflated.

To be unashamed is to be truly free,
And a collar may make you truly see,
That desires bound are worse than death,
And a lash on flesh is the liberating breath,
A prisoner takes when finally set free,
Taking "Sir", "Master", "Please" as her shibboleth.

But freedom is not a game with winners,
Nor pain solely the domain of sweet sinners,
With a hand on throat, or words harshly spoken,
"Rules are only meant to be broken",
Monsters malicious lure in beginners,
Innocent Meat with dreams newly awoken.

A collar sometimes does not set you free,
And tears of anguish may not let you see,
That salvation sought will never be found,
Your spirit is broken, you will be drowned,
Unless, on your collar you find the key,
To the new prison in which you are bound.

I fear you have had
some unfortunate times with
nitwits - #me too

Méli

 

[melimelissa]

I beg to differ,
and perhaps offer
a paradigmatic revision
to the D/s theologian's
view of the world.

I would venture that
For every flesh-whipped canvas,
there is also another dimension
Of the D/s dialectic,
an erotic sensibility
that oozes sensuality:
Mind-fuckery

your perspective appears
to echo some fears
that I have.
complex words do not aid:
easier expression may
make me brave
erotic sensibility and ooze
of sensual, trans-dimensional schmooze
though I'd save
Myself from mind-fuckery
And guys who're too uppity
While I wave
(them away)

Giggles
Méli

 

[calmlikeabomb]

I fear you have had
some unfortunate times with
nitwits - #me too

Méli

The scars of experience lead to the tower of wisdom.
#metoo

 

[melimelissa]

The scars of experience lead to the tower of wisdom.
#metoo

Probably best when
you reserve the real feelings
for real relationships

Méli

 

[calmlikeabomb]

Probably best when
you reserve the real feelings
for real relationships

Méli

Who can say what is real and what is not,
When the world is Maya, an illusion, Vishnu's dream,
Virtual scars fade away like steam,
But scars of reality are seldom forgot

 

[melimelissa]

Most of the images and opinions here are about nudity as a part of supplication and submission. And while stirring in their own right, I would like to offer a counter proposal.

The choice of nudity as a mark of confidence, power, and comfort.

Supplication implies duty and obligation. It may be spoken or unspoken, but it exists. Taking the case of a male dominant and a female submissive, their bond requires an obligation to each other.

The obligation of the dom is to take care of her. To make her feel safe. To push her in inches so she grows, but doesn't break. To help her explore that which she craves but needs a trusted hand to hold hers and walk her down that path.

And the obligation of the submissive is to follow his instructions. To hear his words and make them her own. To heed his voice and will and see it done to the best of her abilities.

But what if we stray from that path for a moment and take another. Where nudity is given, not freely, but in return for a deeper understanding and comfort.

Picture, if you will, a woman's confidence in her form that transcends submission. A confidence in her skin beyond the desire to please. A will to strip that needs no commands, only acceptance.

It seeks no validation. It seeks no approval. It may not even seek an audience.

It may be done in submission, but not out of duty to another. The submission here is to oneself, to one's own trustest self, to the core of the soul that calls out in the back of one's mind and reassures, that it's ok. It's normal. It feels good. It brings joy.

It feels right.

So while we share images and desires of submission and supplication, consider this my humble ode to those few who walk unashamed in their own skin, for their own sake.

I love a nice counter proposal,
Consider me at Sir's disposal,
My form will transcend
The cock in my end,
And my naked before him exposal.

Méli

 

[lil_jenni]

For me, CMnf with Hubby has to be very personal/one-on-one. And it is a mainly vulnerable, submissive experience, although it can be teasing as well. I don't try to classify it too much. I just love being naked for him.

But I don't enjoy the nudity for its own sake or as an empowerment. I have a friend who's a stripper, and for her it's highly empowering and not at all submissive. She loves being desired and unattainable, so a room full of clothes men watching her dance all but naked is a thrill. For me (I tried stripping twice back in my early twenties), that situation is anxiety ridden because I don't like the group dynamic, at least not that group dynamic. I had no problem being naked at certain kinds of parties my first couple years of college.

 

[lil_jenni]

For me, CMnf with Hubby has to be very personal/one-on-one. And it is a mainly vulnerable, submissive experience, although it can be teasing as well. I don't try to classify it too much. I just love being naked for him.

But I don't enjoy the nudity for its own sake or as an empowerment. I have a friend who's a stripper, and for her it's highly empowering and not at all submissive. She loves being desired and unattainable, so a room full of clothes men watching her dance all but naked is a thrill. For me (I tried stripping twice back in my early twenties), that situation is anxiety ridden because I don't like the group dynamic, at least not that group dynamic. I had no problem being naked at certain kinds of parties my first couple years of college.

I should add that I do enjoy wearing tight/skimpy clothing and showing off/teasing in public (or used to -- no one wants to see all that now... ), but that's far less vulnerable than being naked.

 

[calmlikeabomb]

I love a nice counter proposal,
Consider me at Sir's disposal,
My form will transcend
The cock in my end,
And my naked before him exposal.

Méli

General Deepstrike reports for duty,
(I beseech you, do not laugh,
At the designation of my staff)
As it strenuously plunders thy booty.

 

[gabriela_2003]

https://64.media.tumblr.com/c73135e14297d8245193e807827b4c2b/6273d82028ed3161-db/s540x810/ccb5fb920626c627ff52dfd33fc7d98ab90c20dd.jpg

 

[melimelissa]

I am often naked before
Daddy-Sir tells what is in store:
My skirts tend to flip,
When He talks of discip-
lining His personal whore.

Méli

 

[Cowboy34]

I am often naked before
Daddy-Sir tells what is in store:
My skirts tend to flip,
When He talks of discip-
lining His personal whore.

Méli

Discipline turns to pure pleasure!