Honor and Obey – Her Gift

What does a gift mean to you? Pretty trinkets or computers, new cars or diamonds? How about your complete and total surrender to the single man you will obey for the rest of your life? Daunting? Very much so. But imagine the joy… I do and have.

I’m going to begin a new little flash series tonight. In truth I was going to begin writing in a total shift – a heated paranormal and I will in upcoming weeks, but I was inspired today. I was thinking about a series of words including honor – as in honoring your partner; obeying – most people shudder at the word; and the term ‘her gift’. Yes, I might sound repetitive but there are some pretty raw emotions coming from a very open conversation with John Patrick today. For any of you who have read this blog over the last couple of months, you know this happens often. What I think so many couples (perhaps especially new to the lifestyle but you know I refuse to stereotype) face and also fear is that they aren’t always the D/s couple. We’re no exception. We have real lives to lead, vanilla ones to boot. John Patrick isn’t big ‘he man’ Dom 24/7 and expected to know all things, be all things. I don’t think any Dom should be. And the submissive has other sides, generally more powerful tendencies in other aspects of her life. I’ve mentioned this before.

We also have worries and fears about our vanilla life and the dark side buried within all of us – yes, I do believe we all have another side, if not five. John Patrick has often said to me that for any woman to submit to a man in both body and soul is a gift. I’ve heard this before. With John Patrick, I truly believe him and he finds the fact I not only want to submit to him, but please him first and foremost sometimes…daunting. Oh and terrifying. Why terrifying? Well you see… This man wants to please me too. He wants so much so that at times I think (he’ll smack me for saying this) he tries too hard. I casually mentioned (notice how I say this so I hopefully won’t get another LONG spanking?) I was the submissive as it’s The quuiet obeynot only what I consider a requirement but also in my being to please him first. The concept is new and seems to floor him. Completely understandable.

You have to remember for the two of us, all of this is new. The very concept of obeying anyone for me is difficult, contrary to my being, yet I have no worry about submitting and obeying to this man. I do say this man because what I realized for me, and this is very important, is that I haven’t been interested in, nor could I have obeyed a basic command from another man. I’m not entirely certain why except that I trust him implicitly and the connection is strong – very strong between us. What I’ve come to realize is there’s something else, and yes I can’t quite put my finger on the reason, but I know this beautiful journey is very special between us. We often comment on this simple but extraordinarily amazing fact often. We just click in a way that our dark souls, deep seeded needs and desires mesh almost perfectly.

So there is this concept of honoring and obeying him right there in the forefront of my mind. He calls me a handful. Yes, I am. Any of you who know me can laugh. What I can tell you is that seeing this submissive side of me is almost intimidating for me – at times. I am finally the woman I believe I fought against, masked away for so many reasons, for years. His strength has allowed me to break out and I’m not all the way there yet. I worry and fear, terrified I’ll push him away because I can’t please him or because I show that I care too much. Yes, I worry. I am human, right?

For this little series I’m going to inflict the concept of real life, our friends and family as well as the struggles about both in men and women who life such an incredible life in the world of D/s. So we’ll begin with where the very phrase ‘to honor and obey’ was stricken from… Any guesses? I think we all know.

You will obey me. You will understand my needs as well as your own. You will embrace the woman I know you crave. My dearest, you are becoming.

The very words the amazing man had said just this morning stilled her, fueled her. Why was she hiding? Jasmine Ryan flashed a look of defiance.

“You look fucking amazing,”

Jasmine sighed, patted her tummy, wrinkled her nose and sucked in her breath. Twisting from side to side she studied her reflection, the almost too perfect white dress, the very one her mother had selected. Suddenly she was sick to her stomach. Raising her middle finger she snorted and glared at her best friend, Gracie, the one who not only liked but encouraged all the pomp and circumstance of the white wedding. She hadn’t been a virgin since fifteen and the thought of anything pure, trendy, fashionable and family friendly at this moment gave her an intense series of shivers. “Fuck this shit.”

“What is wrong with you?” Gracie hissed through clenched teeth as she raised her eyebrow. “You’ve been surly and nasty all day.”

A submissive“Bullshit.”

“Case in point.”’

“Fine,” Jasmine tossed her head back. Yeah, Gracie was right.

Gracie folded her arms. “Fess up. What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“What the hell could be wrong? I’m in a tutty-fruitie white dress, ready to have some minister perform a marriage and endure what will have to be the worst food in the history of my life and you actually have the audacity to ask me what’s wrong?” One more look into the oversized mirror gave her the confidence she needed. The frumpy dress was bullshit. The wedding designed by her mother was… She couldn’t even say the words. Jerking the hem of her dress up she stalked toward the dressing room. Zack would understand.

“Where are you going?” Gracie laughed. “Fine. It’s time for an entire batch of margaritas. And we can ogle men too.”

The moment she stepped off the platform, a glimpse of the street outside the wedding shop, one of people laughing as they shopped on the beautiful day, she smiled. As she thought about Zack, Sir Zack, the single man she’d been able to open up with and completely let go all of her fears and worries, she realized she couldn’t go through with the wedding. Of course she loved Zack with all of her heart and the bond they were going to share was would be completely as a couple joined, but not in holy matrimony. At least not in the way vanilla couples thought of or believed in. Her mother would throw a fit but the catered event at the poshest hotel in all of Richmond Virginia just wasn’t going to happen.

“Are you okay or do I need to find a hunky fireman to save your sassy ass?”

“Not enough of a man.”

“Oh listen to you, Miss Bitchy Pants.”

Thank God for Gracie. The rather over opinionated girl was her BFF and knew almost everything about her. Almost. She dragged the poofy white dress back through the swinging doors and into the dressing room. Gracie had no idea what kind of lifestyle Jasmine had agreed to only about two months before. She pressed her hand over the thick woven silver chain, a ragged breath escaping her lips. There was never a day she went anywhere without the gorgeous piece, a connection that grounded her. Zack was her lover, her friend and the man she hoped to spend the rest of her life with. He was also her Dom and she was going to be a collared woman. And not a single friend or family member knew that she was a happy submissive – not even Gracie. Why was she hiding? Why did she care what anyone thought about her love and her need to submit completely and fully to Zack?

She sniffed as she reached over her shoulders and struggled to release the top button of the ugly dress. Iridescent taffeta wasn’t her bag, never had been. For some reason she’d allowed the love of her mother to convince her having a white wedding was the way to go. There was no way she could go through with the event. No way. She wasn’t being true to herself or her Dom. Zack was a sweetheart in allowing her to handle the union however she wanted. This wasn’t it. And today? She was going to become the strong woman she already was in business, the one who could rip the heads off anyone opposing her. Jasmine was going to suck it up and tell Gracie about her life, her real life. Okay a first start but a good one.

In about two minutes she had the dress off and her clothes back on. Yes, the scarlet dress, the very one Zack had purchased just days before, hugged every curve, accentuating her full breasts and long legs. Licking her lips, she played to the mirror for about two seconds before giving herself the finger. For pretty much her entire life she’d hated looking at the woman staring back at her. For some reason today, things seemed different. This time as she twisted and turned, eyeing her figure, the way the dress sculpted around her thin waist and full hips, she sighed. Yeah, you look good, damn good. Zack seemed to adore everything about her. For a few seconds she thought about him, the stunning six foot five inch gorgeous guy, and inhaled deeply. For a few seconds she indulged, imaging his scent. He always had an incredible fragrance that was so musky, so masculine. Her fingers brushed across her lips and she could almost smell him, the rich testosterone. He was all male. He was a damn good disciplinarian too. Swaying her hips back and forth she eased her hand back, rubbing her ass, the one he’d spanked just that very morning.

She swallowed hard as the material scraped across the already bruised skin. A quick groan escaped her lips. Very slowly she lifted the hem, exposing her ass, and turned around. “Ugh.” The stripes were brilliant and well adorned, almost beautiful. Her ass? Not so much. Rubbing her hand over her ass cheek was a reminder she was required to obey him, the few rules he’d imposed. She was a rule breaker at heart. Of that there was no doubt. Zack wasn’t a harsh task master or too severe. He was kind and loving, so caring about every aspect of her well-being. The way he was as a man had allowed her to submit, to want more, and to accept his collar.

Jasmine tugged down the dress and ran her fingers through her rather unruly hair. Thank God Zack liked the wild child who lived inside of her. She reached down to grab her purse when her cell phone rang. Every time she heard the distinctive tone she trembled – not from fear or worry of something her Master would do, but from her intense need to please him. “My Sir.”

“My baby. How are you?”

“Leaving the store.”

“You found the perfect dress?” Zack asked, his tone husky.

Jasmine debated and closed her eyes. “Not really.” He hated anything vague. She was required to tell him her thoughts, her worries and fears. She sucked at obeying pretty The presentmuch all of the rules.

“Jasmine.”

“Sir.”

“You don’t like the dress selection?”

“What if…” The words trailed out of her mouth. What was wrong with her? Normally Jasmine would spout off anything and everything she felt like at any given time.

Zack laughed. “My willful creature. Talk to me. What’s wrong? You can select a dress from anywhere. You know I don’t care.”

“I do and that’s why I don’t want to…” Another quick gulp of air and she simply said the words. “I don’t want to get married, at least not in the traditional sense.” The words were quick, slipping from her mouth before she could lose her courage.

“Hmmm… Go on.”

“I was thinking we could have a ceremony but a collaring ceremony.” There. She’d said the words, admitting what she wanted. When he hesitated she cringed. Jasmine moved out of the dressing room and back into the salon. Gracie was talking on her phone, pretty much as usual. She smiled. The girl had almost the perfect life – ten boyfriends give or take, a good job, a great sports car and a snazzy condo on the waterfront. What few knew about Gracie Adams was that she was completely unhappy. She also needed a hard spanking. The thought made her smile.

“Really?”
Was he pissed or happy? She couldn’t tell. “I want to share our joy.” He was hesitating again. Shit. Shit. Shit. This wasn’t the best choice perhaps. Granted, the wedding was in about a week. No the wedding was in five days. Throwing this in at the last minute was kinda ridiculous. She cleared her throat. Now or never girl. “I was thinking we could have a party at the house and just invite a few over and exchange our vows, the ones we want and that others then can see us and…” My God she was making no freaking sense. None. A bead of sweat rolled down her face. She was so out of sorts.

“I love the idea if you’re ready. I want this to make you happy. I want you to be happy. Above all I want you to be satisfied and ready for our future.”

The words, and the way the said them was truly inspiring. Future.  Yes. “This will make me happy.”

“Then my beautiful submissive, we will share with our friends who we are.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jasmine whispered.

“Indeed, my willful submissive. By the way, I found the credit card bill.”

Jasmine groaned. “About that, sir.”

“Be home by six. I think you and I need to have a discussion.”

He ended the call and all she could think about was how difficult it was going to be toIn my collar sit down for any upcoming event.

Fifteen minutes later Jasmine sat back in her chair, enjoying the gorgeous view of the river, the cloudless day. She swirled her margarita and enjoyed the sounds of the jazz music being pumped through the speakers. This was a perfect setting. She smiled as she brought the drink to her lips then had the sudden desire to gulp the entire glass.

“Girl. Are you having a bad day or wedding jitters?” Gracie asked as she laughed.

The drink slid down her throat and she was grateful for the slight burn. Licking a full inch of salt off the rim she swallowed and coughed before motioning for the waiter. “Well, about that.”

“Uh-oh. I think I need another drink.”

“Waiter? Fill ‘em up.” Jasmine leaned over the table as she scanned from side to side. “I need to confess something to you.”

“You’re having an affair and the wedding is off.” When Jasmine didn’t answer quickly she opened her eyes wide. “Shit woman. Why don’t you tell me these juicy things?”

“I’m not having an affair, but the wedding is off.”

“Oh God. There has to be some horrible story around them. Fess up. We have all afternoon to drink and talk.” Gracie shook her head. “Is Craig an asshole? Is he too controlling?”

Jasmine hadn’t told anyone about her shift in lifestyle, not a single person. She lowered her voice and smiled. “Craig is very controlling.”

“I freaking thought so. You can always tell.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Do it. Say it. Go on. “He’s very controlling because he’s my Dom.” Yes, there was a deer in the headlights look.

“What? I’m sorry what?” Gracie blinked several times.

Nodding, she fingered her day collar. “I’m a submissive and I follow his rules.” At least a full minute passed.

“Rules. Okay.” Shrinking back in her seat, Gracie didn’t look at her. “And if you don’t obey his rules?”

“Then I’m punished. Then I get his belt.” Instead of a look of horror that Jasmine expected, Gracie’s eyes were full of something else entirely. They were full of curious need.

Well, we shall see where this story goes, but I want you to see the sometimes difficult side of allowing others into a life so… You know how I feel.

Kisses and spanks

Cassandre

About Cassandre Dayne

Cassandre Dayne is the pseudo for the best selling author of romantic suspense and thrillers
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