Confessions of a libra

Chosen | Credit: Here

31.05.25

Music soothes me on my way home. I did that thing again and stayed longer than I should’ve. Honestly, if I don’t do it who will? It’s a thankless job being ambitious. My drive home is a blur. I come to at a few red lights. I’m so exhausted I could cry. At least it’s the weekend now. I pull into the driveway and all I want to do is get in, shower and sleep. I’ve spent so much energy on other people today. Not sure what kind of bad luck descended but it felt like there was a crisis here, a rescheduled meeting there – it was a whole mess.

I get inside and remove my shoes, placing them on the rack near the front door. I walk into the kitchen and see her standing by the counter, in her peach silk robe. I can see her glistening skin from here and I adore the way she is leaning on that counter with a leg crossed over the other. She has a wine glass in hand and she looks at me expectantly.

“You’re late,” she says in her signature deadpan.

I freeze mid-step, feeling my spine tighten and my awareness increase. I swear I was going to send her a text but the moment I went for it, I got a call about some delivery downstairs I had to attend to. Shit!

“I’m sorry. I got stuck in a meeting, then they asked for another report, and I just didn’t want to think about it tomorrow,” I offer apologetically.

I know how much it means to her that we have good communication. I never want to be the one  who lets the team down. I hadn’t done it for a while but I can see now that I was slipping back into old habits. The realisation hits me like an ice-cold bucket of water. She takes a longer sip this time, eyebrow raised and that challenging stare that gives my stomach butterflies.

“On your hands and knees,” she commands.

Her words pierce me in delicious ways, like a key opening only the right lock. I drop to my knees instinctually, aching knees a sheer consequence of being in the presence of greatness. The moment my knees hit the ground, I feel as though version of me from work with his spreadsheets and responsibilities, flies out the window. I am hers now. I’m ready to obey. She grabs the black collar behind her and struts over to me. Every click of her heels feels like delicious doom. I feel the anticipation in my spine, in my chest and in my belly.

She squats down like a Goddess and she places the collar on me. She is gentle but firm and hearing the buckle click brings tears to my eyes. We’re really doing this. This is really my life now. She stands and I give in, gazing up at her. She looks so fucking powerful and I’m grateful. I’m trying to be good, I have making up to do. I need to prove myself to be worthy.

“Follow,” her tone leaves no question.

So I do. I follow her gently, trying not to be an inconvenience. I can sense her care in her pace and it drives me crazy. We make it to the couch and I feel that ache in my knees, but it’s a holy one. There’s other aches too, I feel my body’s readiness for her. She sits in front of me and spreads her legs. I keep my gaze lowered and respectful. The command she has on her body makes me feel weak. Before her I never considered that I would want to lose control. That I would gladly give everything I have. Before her, life felt like cold dinners in the late evening, feeling lonely in a crowded room and sex that never left me wanting more. Now, I have cravings and those cravings are often satisfied before my mind has the words to express the need.

“Look at me,” she speaks breathlessly.

I look up slowly letting my gaze linger everywhere I could before meeting her eyes. Her breath catches and immediately I feel a twitch below. Was that for me? Does she really feel that way when she looks at me?, I ask myself. It feels both illegal and righteous, I’m torn. I feel naked in front of her and I haven’t removed a single layer.

“What do you see?” She asks in velvet tones that stroke me from afar.

My mouth opens slightly and I ball up a fist just to keep the feelings in my body. She loves my restraint, and I want to give her everything she deserves.

“You look like what painters try and capture when they’ve tasted only a moment of divinity. Your skin looks so soft and…radiant. You look like someone who shouldn’t be touched by the unworthy.”

She bites her lip in response and I feel warmth flood me. I am doing good. She leans forward and holds my chin. She looks so in control and I’m ready for whatever she has to give.

In honeyed tones she asks, “Do you know what I’m gonna do to you tonight?”

I swallow and shake my head. Whatever she has in mind I am willing to take it. I will be making changes. I want to earn the collar without disappointing her next time.

“I’m going to feed you. Bathe you. Then edge you to the brink of oblivion for your indiscretion. You hear me?”

I could shake from relief. This woman is unbelievable. A goddess among mortals surely. Yet I’m the lucky mortal she chose to bless. I used to think pleasure was earned through invisible hard work. Now, she shows me time and time again that pleasure doesn’t need a box. Pleasure can teach, pleasure can coax and pleasure can correct. And I will take every correction in the book.

“Words.” She commands me and I love that she makes me talk.

“Yes, Mistress.” I offer, in utter reverence.

“And when you’re late next time?” She asks again.

There she goes again, teaching me her boundaries. And I’ve never loved a lesson more. I look at her with all the sincerity I can muster, “I’ll do better. I’ll tell you and not worry you.”

“Good Boy.”

Consecrated | Credit: Here

Bonus scene

She finally lets me come undone in her hands. I come apart while she holds me from behind. My body twitches as I silently go down with the ship. She holds me to her, unflinching. As the orgasm settles I feel unexpected tenderness rise within me and soon I can’t help the tears that fall from me. I move as though to untangle myself from her, unsure what to do with the feelings. I am mostly in awe of the experience I just had, but now there is slight shame that I’ve come so completely undone that I cannot control my own tears. She feels my resistance and holds me tighter. I feel her cheek rest near my shoulder and she starts to rock me while whispering shhh’s. I let the tears flow, feeling held and seen. Her love is greater than any ocean. And I’m lucky to have a wade.