Smoked sausage

“Smoked sausage” was written for BDSMforyou.nl by B-liever

Good morning. It’s still early, and I’m pottering around the house. Tidying up the room. I like it when things are neat. Yes, she’s still in bed. Fucked, yeah, last night. I’m happy for her. It’s about more than love. It’s about surrender, giving to each other. He’s well-endowed, yeah. A man, muscular too, with a tattoo on his back. That tattoo was beautiful, yeah. I was there. Safe, of course – what did you think? Actually, we’re very normal, sensible people.

He’s already gone. He showered and left. She’s still asleep, and I’m always up early. I drink my coffee and orange juice and eat a sandwich. She’s going to pee on me in a minute. I know you think it’s crazy. No, just in the shower. Me on my knees, her high above me. True, that’s humiliating and also a little weird. We love it, and the affirmation feels good. I love her. Then I look up, close my eyes, and open my mouth. I swallow some of it; I let most of it flow over me. Yeah, that’s right, but to her, I’m less than a whore.

Water and fire

Does she love me? She certainly does; I make sure of that myself. We’re a couple, you see. People who’ve found each other. Water and fire, black and white, Wim and Jan, just like your father and mother. At least, I’m happy for you in that regard. That your parents found each other in their youth. Reluctantly discovering the world together through Sunday school, dance class, and secretly smoking behind a shed. That they’re still together. Hand in hand and gazing at each other with love. That’s how we are. Partners in crime. Sadist and masochist. Not that I’m into intense pain, mind you. Until she says I have to take it. Then it’s bearable. You get it?

How we met. Ha ha, not really. She found me and took me. Something like that. You believe that as an employee, you’ll be found too. Your new job as some kind of magic? That’s the fairy tale the HR lady loves to tell you. In the end, you’re in a database at three staffing agencies, and your name has been sold for a lot of money. You’re a commodity, a thing that’s being sold. Of course I wish you the dream; it ensures a long and happy life. Or in this case, a wonderful career in a fantastic job. The two of us are realistic. If she wants to fuck me, she does. We speak our minds. We see things before they happen. Maybe together we’re a little smarter than the rest.

No big deal

Oh, how we found each other. She found me. No, no big deal, just a little thing I’d like to make clear to you. I think it was spring. Yeah, Pentecost weekend or something like that. Beautiful warm days. So my partner and I wanted to get away. Camping, a little tent, just nothing for a while. Nature, free, and together. Yeah, one of those little tents. We were on a quiet field with a few RVs. The RV owners always look a bit strangely at people with a tent. As if it’s a sign of poverty. “Oh, you’re not camping? That’s fine too.” Anyway, there was this woman with that camper.

No, not a huge camper, but a remarkable woman. We had a chat with her once. Us together with her. She was alone, we weren’t. The topic? The weather, the spacious sites, the surroundings, and the wide selection in the little campground store. That – no, not a single hint of anything kinky. She wore jeans just like me, and when it got cold in the evening, we both put on sweaters. Just normal, you know? No? Okay, what else should I say about it? It’s so simple!

A bell ringing in my head

The look – you can feel it. I feel it. When there’s a dominant around me, a light goes on. Then a bell rings in my head. I look around to see if there’s a question, if there’s something I can do. Just for that person, that someone. The one who made my bell ring, who triggered my sub mode. Ha ha, no, usually I’d rather be lazy than tired; I love it when there are people around me who take care of me, and yeah, I work as a manager, so you know how it is. But then, like now, here at home. Everything is just as she expects of me: neat and clean.

At the campground? Oh, that… Yeah, actually not really a very special story. I came out of the restroom. You know those buildings. So I walked outside and there she was. No, not my partner – well, eventually, but let’s say not my travel companion. Legs spread wide, a commanding gaze – I don’t know, she might have been smiling kindly, for all I know. She pushed me against the wall. Not physically, but I stepped back, turned, well, back against the wall. It must have been a question. What do you say? Yeah, a light clearly came on and a little bell rang. I’d say it was more like a whole carillon than a little bell. For me, it hit home: love, desires, wanting to be of service – everything came flooding out.

I stayed…

Before the tears rolled down my cheeks, she asked if I’d understood what she said. I had to lie down in our little tent and stay there. No matter how long it took. She would come get me. So I did it. Scorching hot, the sun beating down on our tent, and I stayed. I lay on the bed, tossing and turning, rolling over, and sighing once in a while. At first you don’t want to sleep, and then it happens anyway. You wake up groggy and don’t know what time it is. Luckily, I knew where I was. I’m lying on the bed, on my back, arms under my head, staring at the tip of the tent. Not knowing what’s happening outside – yeah, my girlfriend, man. I only realized later that she had already packed her things by then.

When the tent zipper opened, I hoped she’d come in. I don’t even remember who. The woman from the camper or my girlfriend. As long as it was someone. The winner of the duel. A shootout with two historical pistols. One bullet each, both missed, and then a fight. That’s how it must have gone, but in a womanly way. Neater, more civilized. She beckoned me over and didn’t say a word. As I clumsily crawled out of the tent on all fours, all I heard was that I stank, that I was sweaty, that I had to take a shower, and then come into the camper. I knew I had to, but hey, this was all new to me too.

Threw up

I think I ended up throwing up in the showers. All the tension was gone. I felt kind of liberated. Too many details? Sorry, you asked for it, and I don’t feel any need to hold anything back from you. It’s an honest story, right? I was quick. The camper door was open. In the middle of that camper was a chair. Weird, huh? I’d never seen that before. And while I’m standing there looking, I hear her voice. She says the same thing – that it’s weird to have a loose chair in a camper. I think she called me a slave back then, or a thing – that’s possible too. I don’t remember anymore. Feeling makes you remember the past differently. Yeah, I feel good. Just a sip of water, hold on.

Not naked

So, well, okay, me on that chair. No, not naked. She was. Yeah, stupid, now that I think about it. No, not naked, a bikini or something. I did see everything. Yeah, me in shorts and a shirt and rope around my ankles and only then my wrists. Her fingers eagerly running over my body while she talked. Life like a fairy tale. That she’s waiting for a slave. Yeah, you’re right, she already called me a slave back then. That’s right. Weird, now that I’m telling you, things are coming back to me. She stood behind me and pulled my head up and back. I let her, crazy, huh. I felt so safe and so okay. The only thing she asked was if I’d follow her. “Will you follow me?” I can hear it again, so warm, so full of love. I didn’t say or do anything to deny it.

So I opened my mouth when she spat. Instinctively, yes. She opened her mouth and apparently I knew what was coming. Caught it all in one go. Yes, my first time. It’s weird when I think about it now that everything felt so natural. I’d known her for, I think, three days, maybe four, no, two. It doesn’t matter. Yes, I was sitting there; no, she didn’t untie me. She told me all sorts of things. I remember she kept repeating things. Yes, a sort of telling me what she wanted—call it a mantra. I think I went into a sort of trance. No, not too hot, didn’t drink or eat anything. Just her presence, the feeling that we’re together. Mistress and slave. I felt that very strongly even then.

Gelderland smoked sausage

Yes, the fridge opened. No, I had no idea. Didn’t want to think about what she would do. Whatever she does is right. Yes, that’s how it worked then and that’s how it works now. It was Gelderland smoked sausage in foil, you know the kind in that packaging. She peeled it off. Then she pulled my head back and shoved the thing in. No, not in her, in me. My mouth – I clamped down, and then it wouldn’t go any further. No, yeah, I’d already thrown up. Slowly, keep going, swallow. Man, she whispered very hoarsely in my ear that it turned her on. That’s a major turn-on, you know. But it didn’t work

Then she got on that table. Yeah, from that camper. Yeah, unbelievable – it was creaking. Spread her legs wide and shoved that thing in. That smoked sausage, yeah. You know how thick that is? Right in there. My mouth must have dropped open. Yeah… No, no details. No, she didn’t come yet. She stood up, called me a slut or something – or no, I think she just said she wanted it and I did it. Open, willing, swallowing, gagging, pushing the thing away with my tongue. She stroked my cheek. Lovingly. She did it again. I stayed, wider open, no resistance, swallowed, gagged, she held it there and I looked at her. Calm, balance, peace. I had never felt so at home anywhere before.

Guided, sometimes on a leash

From that moment on, I haven’t been anywhere without her. Guided, sometimes on a leash, sometimes with clear instructions, and in the rare moments when there are none, I figure out for myself what she expects of me and what makes her proud. That is my life; that is how it is now, and it makes me happy. The other day I cleaned up the tent and we drove the camper to her house. It was ridiculous to find out then that she lives only ten minutes away from me. That’s how things go sometimes. She did tell me that she had waited a long time for me. That she had tried before and never succeeded. With me she did, and that alone makes me so proud and so incredibly happy.

Gelderland smoked sausage

We still buy Gelderland smoked sausage from time to time. And yes, long straight bananas, cucumbers, and what’s that called – avocado? She also shops online, and then there’s another box by the door. Or a small box, or we spend a long evening discussing a new piece of furniture or a little stool. For me, that means a weekend of DIY, and after a month, a beautiful result. Our life is beautiful. She takes the lead but also cares deeply for me. We both find it extraordinary that this is possible. Twenty-four-seven, or TPE, or BDSM, or whatever. I call it love; that’s what I feel with her, and that’s what lives within me.

And you, dear reader? You have my story and your own dreams. Now you know it exists. I could show you the welts on my back or take you on a tour of our house and point out all the hooks for SM. Open the closet with our things. No, we can’t disturb her. That’s really not possible. But she exists, she’s real, and I’m completely hers. It’s waiting for you, too. Somewhere she is: the mighty, powerful, dreamy one. Or he: the willing slave. There’s no point in pushing things. Everything comes at the right time. The only thing I ask of you is to be ready. To know for sure who you are when the other asks you. That, and only that, is the magic of SM.

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Text: B-liever
Image: 123rf.com