I think that He knows me better than anyone else in the world. And I like to think that I know more about him than anyone else, but there is still a part of him that is hidden from me. It is the deepest, most darkly sadistic version of himself, the part that he is hesitant to show me for fear that I will be too afraid of what I see.
Often when we are in the heat of the moment, he is coolly dispassionate. He steps back and surveys my naked body, he applies the belt strategically, he pauses. He is calm and professorial is his demeanor. He is having fun and, most importantly, he is completely collected.
In contrast, the other version of him is absolutely wild. It is unhinged, manic, rabid. I can tell when the other him has come out when I see his eyes. They are full of rage and hunger. They make me instantly afraid - of where the man I know has gone, of whether this other version of him will know where to stop, of my own capacity to take what he has to give. Sometimes I think that I can coax the reasonable, rational version of him out from behind the monster, but often that only makes him more excited. When he sees that his prey is scared and flailing, begging for mercy, he only sinks his teeth in more deeply and holds on more tightly.
Last Friday, I encountered this version of him unexpectedly. I was sucking his cock in the living room when he pulled me up roughly by my hair. I saw that evil glint in his eyes and I knew. I knew as he pushed me over the couch and fucked me hard, clawing at my back. I knew as he forced his cock into my mouth and choked me without mercy. I knew as he knocked me to the ground and hit me that he was out. There would be no caging him until he had his release.
Only after bending my legs back and fucking me until I cried and we both came did he relent. Then he went back into hiding, behind the calm facade of my owner. He lays there quietly, waiting for his chance to come out again.