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Master came to visit me in July. It would be the first time we had seen each other in person since Memorial Day weekend in May of 2005.<\/p>\n
I had wanted to write the day he was coming, so I could start this entry with, “Master is coming to visit today.<\/strong>” I was both nervous and elated beyond belief. I couldn’t sleep the night before. All I could do was think about him, seeing him, touching him, holding him, and simply being in the same room with him again.<\/p>\n This entry is about my Hollywood movie moment when I saw Master for the first time in over twenty years.<\/p>\n Master:<\/strong> “Honey, I’m home.”<\/p>\n Me:<\/strong> “I’m coming down to open the door, Master.”<\/p>\n Master:<\/strong> “Okay, baby.”<\/p><\/blockquote>\n But I didn’t just walk downstairs. I ran out to his truck while he was unloading his suitcases. It was pouring rain. I ran straight into his arms, and we just stood there hugging in the middle of the parking lot while the rain came down around us. See… I told you it was a Hollywood moment. \ud83d\ude42<\/p>\n I couldn’t believe he was actually here. I honestly thought I was dreaming. It didn’t feel real. I kept waiting to wake up and find myself back in my ordinary, everyday life. Instead, here he was. The man I have loved for more than half my life. Yes… more than half my life. I was twenty-eight years old when he collared me for the first time, and I’ll be fifty-eight soon. That means I’ve loved him for over thirty years. He was, in every sense, is my first Master and my first real BDSM relationship. I don’t really count the brief time I spent in Connecticut with the couple before him. That lasted about a week, and looking back, it was an incredibly strange situation.<\/p>\n Once Master got settled and sat down, he told me to come over. As I got closer, he pulled me into him, and we kissed… and kissed… and hugged… and kissed some more. It felt exactly like that first date with the bad boy all over again. Butterflies… Sparks… That electricity you feel when someone touches you for the first time, and everything else disappears. I never, ever want those feeling to go away. Up until everything that had happened at the hospital all those years ago, I always felt those butterflies whenever Master touched me, kissed me, hugged me, or even looked at me. I felt safe. Protected. Loved. Then I got that stupid job at the hospital, and it fucked up my entire life. Again, I digress. That belongs to another entry.<\/p>\n What belongs here is this… I never want those sparks to disappear. EVER. I am forever his; we are forever bound.<\/strong><\/p>\n Even something as simple as bringing him a hazelnut coffee makes me ridiculously happy. I am happiest when I’m serving him. That’s when I feel the most stable, the most secure, and the most loved. Being chained to him is my safe place, my I can’t run away from him place.<\/p>\n Then bedtime came. Wow.<\/p>\n I felt like a nervous bride all over again as I got ready for bed. I was going to be lying next to Master. It had been a very long time since I had been with anyone, and I honestly wasn’t sure I even remembered how. I wondered if I would do everything right, and if he would be pleased and enjoy himself.<\/p>\n I’ll simply say this…<\/p>\n I love my life now.<\/p>\n And whatever cobwebs had accumulated over the last twenty years…<\/p>\n They’re gone. \ud83d\ude42<\/p>\n The week went by far too quickly.<\/p>\n We spent hours talking about the past, answering questions we’d both carried for decades. There were things Master hadn’t known, and there were things I had completely misunderstood. We both realized that our memories of certain events weren’t entirely accurate. We went shopping for desks, just like I mentioned in my last entry, so Master will have a place to work when he moves here. We had dinner together. Master spent time with family, cleared up old misunderstandings, and met family members he had never met before.<\/p>\n And then…<\/p>\n Master cooked dinner.<\/strong><\/p>\n Master… cooked dinner!<\/p>\n I think he’s still traumatized from the time I boiled his steak all those years ago.<\/p>\n So the new household agreement is simple:<\/p>\n “Essie, you do the shopping and the cleaning. I’ll do the cooking.”<\/p><\/blockquote>\n We also made a trip to Bondesque<\/a>, a BDSM and fetish store in Minneapolis. I absolutely love that store. It’s a little outside our budget, so we didn’t buy anything. They host events from time to time, so maybe once Master is here permanently we’ll start attending some of those.\u00a0 Maybe we can also\u00a0become involved with The Parlour<\/a> someday.<\/p>\n Anyway…<\/p>\n I could probably write an entire novel about reconnecting with Master after twenty years.<\/p>\n Actually…<\/p>\n Maybe someday I will.<\/p>\n Because our story really could be turned into a Netflix or Hulu love story.<\/p>\n Along the way…<\/strong><\/p>\n If someone pitched that story as a movie…<\/p>\n I’d probably watch it.<\/p>\n Until my next entry…<\/strong><\/p>\n My Master. I love you. <\/strong>Always and forever…<\/strong>More.<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Master came to visit me in July. It would be the first time we had seen each other in person since Memorial Day weekend in May of 2005. I had wanted to write the day he was coming, so I could start this entry with, “Master is coming to visit today.” I was both […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","pagelayer_contact_templates":[],"_pagelayer_content":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-140","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecuriouscommons.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/140","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecuriouscommons.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecuriouscommons.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecuriouscommons.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecuriouscommons.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=140"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/thecuriouscommons.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/140\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":157,"href":"https:\/\/thecuriouscommons.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/140\/revisions\/157"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecuriouscommons.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=140"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecuriouscommons.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=140"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecuriouscommons.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=140"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}\n
\nMaster’s Rules<\/h3>\n
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Shopping List \u2014 Master’s First Visit<\/h3>\n
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\nThe Elements of Our Story<\/h3>\n
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\nMy love.
\nMy friend.
\nMy pirate.
\nMy Music Man.
\nMy Pied Piper.
\nMy best friend.
\nMy teacher.
\nMy counselor.
\nMy everything.
\nMy world.<\/p>\n