Safety In The Dark: Part One

The room was dark, lit only by the soft glow from a pillar candle set atop a small chest. The black sheets felt cool to her naked skin, as she lay on her stomach across the bed. A cool breeze blowing from the ceiling fan, causing small bumps to rise down the length of her body. She resisted the urge to curl her body in closer to keep warm, knowing she needed to lie still as she was told. With her face down in the softness of her pillow, she was unsure where he was.

Her breathing came more ragged as her anxiousness grew. It was nights like this that she lived for, but it never seemed to stop her from being nervous when the time came. Everything she hoped for, and everything she feared all rolled into one exquisite moment. Every time was different, even if only a little. Which kept her constantly unsure of what to expect, playing more into her nervousness.

After laying in the cold, for what seemed like hours, she heard him moving closer to her. The sound was too muffled for her to know from what side he was approaching. Her breath stuttered as she felt him place a warm hand on her ankle. He was ever so gentle as he touched her, and slid his hand slowly up the back of her leg. He caressed her thigh with his finger tips softly. Never moving his fingers from her backside, she felt a sharp slap on her ass, as he brought down his other hand firmly. The warmth from the sting radiated outward, and began to remove the cold that had been creeping over her body.

She inhaled sharply, then slowly let out a muffled whimper. Just as she began to catch her breath, she felt another sharp slap, across the other side of her ass. This time bringing a small shout from her lips. Breathing heavily and feeling the warm sting trail out from the certainly now red mark, she resisted the urge to writhe about. It was all she could do to hold still. The thoughts of all that could happen raced through her mind, adding to the excitement and the struggle to do as she was told.

He grabbed hold of her other ankle, and quickly pulled them apart. She was left open and bare. He made he way up the bed, staying between her legs. As he slid closer to her, she could feel the warm fabric of the jeans he still wore. She couldn't help herself from whimpering as he leaned down on her to clasp both her wrists, and she felt the cold from the buckle on his pants.

He pulled her arms behind her, to her wrists which were at her waist. Holding her hands in place with one hand, he firmly stroked her hair. She relaxed into the feel of his hand on her head, and began to calm. Her breathing slowed, as she knew from that one small gesture that all things were done to her, as evidence of love.

After only a moment the cold leather of the wrist cuffs were being tightened around her. Again she struggled not to squirm, only failing slightly. She heard a soft "Tsk Tsk", from him, just before a solid slap fell hard across her ass once more. Tearing a solid scream from her lips. She quickly caught her breath and whispered, "I'm sorry." Her forgiveness came only in the form of a light caress across her still stinging ass.

He locked the wrist cuffs together behind her back, leaving her with no way to lift herself off the bed. She was stuck with her face buried in the pillow. She could still feel him kneeling between her naked thighs, the coarse denim of his pants was oddly comforting. She felt vulnerable and helpless, yet safer than she ever had. He usually had this effect on her. Only beneath him could she truly find peace. She lived to serve him in all ways. She gave up her Independence, for the safety of his dominance. He was her Master, and her His submissive.

Chivalry meet Feminism

I can vote, do construction, and join the military. I can wear pants, drive, become a CEO. I can go to college, get a higher education, and live on my own.

I thank my great grandmother, and her generation for these things. They walked through hell to give me the rights to be who and what I wanted. They wanted me to have the freedom to be anything I wanted to be.

The women of that generation had amazing intentions, and a good point. Women are NOT second class citizens. They are as much human as any man. There is nothing a man can do, that I can't. Unless you count peeing while standing and not soaking my socks. But honestly... even if it's only 30 seconds, I'll take that time to sit, thank you very much.

Now... here is where I start to get a little pissed off. Over the last 90 or so years, women have evolved into this, conglomeration of fangs and hatred of all things with a penis. Why? Why are men viewed as the enemy? Why are women who choose to stay home with their kids frowned upon by the feminists?

The goal of a feminist is to give women the right to do anything they choose to do. Be it working full time driving a forklift, or running a major company... or *gasp* staying home and cleaning and raising children. If you fight to give women a choice, shouldn't you respect the choice they make?

As a young girl, I used to fight my feelings, because I was told they were wrong. I was to get a higher education and get a good job and support myself. That's not what I wanted. But, my mothers generation were the women out burning their bras. All I wanted to do was wear one.

Now ladies, it's impossible to expect men to know what the hell we want as a gender. Because as a gender we don't even know what the hell we want! We want chivalry, and men to behave as gentlemen, yet treat us a equals. How is that possible. Do you want to be treated as a man, or a woman? You want to be equal? Fine! Open your own fucking doors, pull out your own fucking chairs, and pump your own fucking gas! Don't define jobs around the house as "mans work"... no no sweetie, you get off your ass and fix that leaky drain your damn self.

Why not? Most men I know can cook, sew the holes in their pants, and do their own laundry. Tons of single Dads out there are perfectly happy to help the kids with homework, and make sure they are clean and fed. Here they are doing "women's work".



So what do women want? Many are offended if a man opens their door. "I can open my own damn door." Well no one said you couldn't, it's just a polite thing to do. "I can get my own damn chair." Yes, I'm sure you can. I hear all the time that women get less pay for the same jobs. Granted I've never worked in anything too professional. However, I've never experienced this. In fact, most jobs I've had, I get paid more than others, male or female. Why? Because I'm good at what I do. I've always been paid based on my qualifications, not on whats in my jeans. I'm sure the pay thing happens, but, I've never seen it.

Some of my favorite quotes, "Men are pigs" "They can sleep with anything they want and it's ok, but if a woman does it shes a whore", "Look at him checkin her out, she's such a whore." Good grief ladies! Why are we all out to get one another!? I'll tell you why... because we have no idea what we want! And when we see a woman doing what we wish we could be doing, we're jealous. Yes I said it, Jealous!!!

She's skinnier than you, prettier than you, dresses better than you, has more grace than you. WHO FUCKING CARES!? Be YOU not her. There is no mold for women. We don't all have to be the same to be right. I'm guilty of this on occasion. Our society tells us we are wrong. Lets look for just a quick second at who is telling us we are wrong...

FASHION MAGAZINES! Wow... lookee there. A fashion magazine says my man will only want me if I wear those shoes, buy that sweater, and eat that brand of diet pills. Hmmm, now why would they say that? Oh that's right, because they are getting paid for the ads. Riiiight, it's money. They get paid to make you feel inferior and pathetic.

Women are all over the map. Wanna know what a man wants? I can tell you. Seriously, I actually think I can sum it up into a few simple words. Men want to feel useful, they like to 'make things' and feel handy. They like to know they are needed. In a woman, most men want a slut in bed and a girl next door to take home to Mom. Be both, and he's yours!

Really, most men can be summed up into a paragraph. It would take a 5,000 page book to even scratch the surface of women.

I am endlessly grateful to my great grandmother, and her whole generation. They gave me so much. I think most women take that for granted. Less than 100 years ago we couldn't even vote! Be fucking grateful for once! Acknowledge what we do have. Stop judging other women! 90 years of fighting for our freedom! Freedom to do what -I- want to do, and by God, I'm going to do it.