"I am your slave," I moaned as I rode Him with my collar around my neck. I didn't think before I said it. I just blurted it out as I felt it.
"Yes, yes you are. You've resisted that label, but that is what you are, Kitten," He reassured me.
I started crying, tears of relief and joy and humiliation, all at the same time. He pulled me close and we moved together. He whispered in my ear: "Slave."
Showing posts with label crying. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crying. Show all posts
Asexual
We did everything that night, except fuck. It was raw and primal and intense; in short, it was everything that we love and everything that characterizes our dynamic.
He snapped His fingers. I crawled to Him.
He kicked me down onto the floor. I cringed.
He spanked me mercilessly. I sobbed until He knew I had had enough.
After it was over, we were spent. We curled up next to each other on the floor. I felt like all of the tension had been wrung out of my body. We looked at each other with those blissed-out looks on our faces, but neither of us had come.
It was perfectly unexpected.
He snapped His fingers. I crawled to Him.
He kicked me down onto the floor. I cringed.
He spanked me mercilessly. I sobbed until He knew I had had enough.
After it was over, we were spent. We curled up next to each other on the floor. I felt like all of the tension had been wrung out of my body. We looked at each other with those blissed-out looks on our faces, but neither of us had come.
It was perfectly unexpected.
Goodbye
Don't be alarmed - I'm only going away for a week.
My Owner and I said goodbye last night and it was very difficult. We spent a lot of time last night curled up together on the couch. Neither one of us wanted to let go. It was getting late and I had to leave, but we just couldn't stop holding each other close. I was teary-eyed and He looked so sad.
Eventually, I got up to leave. He stood me in front of him and stared at me for a long time. I wasn't sure if He was going to let me go or if He was going to do something to me. He just had that glint in his eye. He snapped his fingers and I knew to drop to my knees. He stroked my hair and then ordered me to bow at his feet.
I pressed my face against the tops of his feet and, suddenly, I was hit with how much I didn't want to be without Him for the next week. I started sobbing, humbled by kneeling in front of him. I swept my hair across his feet as I clutched him around the ankles. My tears fell on the ground in front of Him. I could feel his hands caressing my back as I cried.
After a moment, He went around behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I stayed bent over as He unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down around my knees. I was breathless from crying and now the anticipation. I was reeling with the shift from soft sorrow to arousal and passion.
He entered me from behind, speaking to me gently and still caressing my back. "Daddy's here, don't worry Kitten, it's okay Kitten," He cooed as we fucked slowly, feeling each other intimately for the last time for a week. "I love you."
My Owner and I said goodbye last night and it was very difficult. We spent a lot of time last night curled up together on the couch. Neither one of us wanted to let go. It was getting late and I had to leave, but we just couldn't stop holding each other close. I was teary-eyed and He looked so sad.
Eventually, I got up to leave. He stood me in front of him and stared at me for a long time. I wasn't sure if He was going to let me go or if He was going to do something to me. He just had that glint in his eye. He snapped his fingers and I knew to drop to my knees. He stroked my hair and then ordered me to bow at his feet.
I pressed my face against the tops of his feet and, suddenly, I was hit with how much I didn't want to be without Him for the next week. I started sobbing, humbled by kneeling in front of him. I swept my hair across his feet as I clutched him around the ankles. My tears fell on the ground in front of Him. I could feel his hands caressing my back as I cried.
After a moment, He went around behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I stayed bent over as He unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down around my knees. I was breathless from crying and now the anticipation. I was reeling with the shift from soft sorrow to arousal and passion.
He entered me from behind, speaking to me gently and still caressing my back. "Daddy's here, don't worry Kitten, it's okay Kitten," He cooed as we fucked slowly, feeling each other intimately for the last time for a week. "I love you."
Belt
I knelt on the floor with His belt around my neck. He took the length that he had been using to pull me to his cock and wrapped it around my neck again. He pulled it tight and put the end between my teeth. I gripped it there, afraid of what he was doing, afraid of how tightly he was pulling the belt around my neck. He wiped his cock on my face, mixing the saliva with the tears on my cheeks.
I trembled. Was this my punishment for last night? Was he still angry at me, and would his anger grow out of control until he pushed me harder than I was able to go? What was going to happen? This had all happened so suddenly.
I felt the red mark on my stomach where he had whipped me with the belt as I laid on the bed, before he dragged me onto the floor. I knew that I would have a mark that would last days. I knew that I deserved it, that I should take some of his anger as payment for what I had done.
But how much? Where would he take me this time?
I trembled. Was this my punishment for last night? Was he still angry at me, and would his anger grow out of control until he pushed me harder than I was able to go? What was going to happen? This had all happened so suddenly.
I felt the red mark on my stomach where he had whipped me with the belt as I laid on the bed, before he dragged me onto the floor. I knew that I would have a mark that would last days. I knew that I deserved it, that I should take some of his anger as payment for what I had done.
But how much? Where would he take me this time?
Relax
I was in a real state last Thursday. I had an unexpectedly stressful day and was facing a grueling presentation on Friday morning. I was not prepared to handle the day's stress and I just wanted to curl up and hide away from the world. I didn't want to face my responsibilities, even though I knew that I had to.
That night, I was in a funk even before I got home and met up with Him. I had looked forward to seeing him all week and didn't want to cancel on him, although my instinct was to spend the evening alone, stewing in my bad mood. He saw the cross look on my face from the second that we hugged and I worried about how my distracted state would upset our evening together.
Instead of letting me spend the entire evening in a funk, he took matters into his own hands. He pulled me into the bedroom and laid me down on the bed next to him. I was suddenly grateful for the distraction. I put my lips near his ear and told him that I needed him to hurt me. It seemed like the only way to rearrange my head. His eyes flashed and he moved toward me quickly.
He was unrelenting, slapping my face and holding me down. He dragged me to the edge of the bed so that he could fuck my face, ignoring the tears rolling up my face as he hung my head over the edge of the bed. Already, I could feel the tension slipping out of my body. I could hear the quiet hum in my head as I scrambled to keep up with him and I let everything but the moment slip away from me. I heard my therapist in my head, urging me to just breathe and be present in my submission. I relaxed every muscle of my body.
He draped me over his knee and started to spank me. I sobbed with relief with every spank, gripping the arm that held me in place over his lap. He took out my collar and I expected him to put it on me, if only to reinforce the calm feeling of my submission, but he whipped my ass with it instead. I wasn't sure at the time, but I thought that he was using the buckle side and it stung very badly. The metal bit into me and I took deep breath after deep breath to stay there, to let everything flow through me.
Finally, he placed a pillow in front of me and urged me to hit it. I had mentioned earlier that I needed to take up kickboxing to get out all of my frustration from the day, and I guess this was his version of that. I felt silly at first, unconvincingly punching the pillow with my fists, but soon I got the hang of it. I pounded the pillow as I let out the last of my tension, crying out with each blow, and let the final tears slide down my cheeks.
I slid down to the floor in front of him and rested my head on his knee. I held onto his leg as I panted. He smiled down at me. "Feel better, Kitten?" I nodded happily. It was as if my terrible day had never happened.
That night, I was in a funk even before I got home and met up with Him. I had looked forward to seeing him all week and didn't want to cancel on him, although my instinct was to spend the evening alone, stewing in my bad mood. He saw the cross look on my face from the second that we hugged and I worried about how my distracted state would upset our evening together.
Instead of letting me spend the entire evening in a funk, he took matters into his own hands. He pulled me into the bedroom and laid me down on the bed next to him. I was suddenly grateful for the distraction. I put my lips near his ear and told him that I needed him to hurt me. It seemed like the only way to rearrange my head. His eyes flashed and he moved toward me quickly.
He was unrelenting, slapping my face and holding me down. He dragged me to the edge of the bed so that he could fuck my face, ignoring the tears rolling up my face as he hung my head over the edge of the bed. Already, I could feel the tension slipping out of my body. I could hear the quiet hum in my head as I scrambled to keep up with him and I let everything but the moment slip away from me. I heard my therapist in my head, urging me to just breathe and be present in my submission. I relaxed every muscle of my body.
He draped me over his knee and started to spank me. I sobbed with relief with every spank, gripping the arm that held me in place over his lap. He took out my collar and I expected him to put it on me, if only to reinforce the calm feeling of my submission, but he whipped my ass with it instead. I wasn't sure at the time, but I thought that he was using the buckle side and it stung very badly. The metal bit into me and I took deep breath after deep breath to stay there, to let everything flow through me.
Finally, he placed a pillow in front of me and urged me to hit it. I had mentioned earlier that I needed to take up kickboxing to get out all of my frustration from the day, and I guess this was his version of that. I felt silly at first, unconvincingly punching the pillow with my fists, but soon I got the hang of it. I pounded the pillow as I let out the last of my tension, crying out with each blow, and let the final tears slide down my cheeks.
I slid down to the floor in front of him and rested my head on his knee. I held onto his leg as I panted. He smiled down at me. "Feel better, Kitten?" I nodded happily. It was as if my terrible day had never happened.
On Fear
Things are not always as they seem. There is fear, but I am not scared. There are tears, but I am not upset. There is pain, but I am not hurt. So much of what you see here, dear readers, is a small sliver of the experience. Think of this place as a singular moment in which you get to peek through the crack in the door. Your eyes may deceive you.
Take fear: I have described many times my experiences with fear, too many to link to here. One of my earliest memories is running away from a parent who was about to physically discipline me. In that moment, as I ran up the steps of the house and locked the bedroom door behind me, I felt a pure rush of adrenaline. It was something overwhelming, something I had never experienced before. The feeling recurred in my dreams over the years, usually in a scenario when I was being chased. I could feel that enticing and terrifying rush in my sleep and I held onto it like it was a precious treasure of an experience.
When we are together, he recreates that feeling. He pushes me to a point where I feel like I am in jeopardy, either physically or emotionally. He brings me to that point of terror and I let him. I let him. I trust Him to do that because I know that I am safe in his hands. He pulls me in opposite directions - between fear and safety, pain and pleasure - and I feel the extreme emotions at each end. That is the essence of the experience. That is a delicious feeling and one that I would be hard-pressed to describe to anyone who has not been involved in such an experience.
The experience of fear feels very real but is buffeted by the ultimately safe nature of the entire framework. It ends, but I often write from within that experience because it is so world-bending that I cannot keep it inside me. But I do not live in fear of Him. I am never really afraid, after all. I am just experiencing fear in a safe way. I love him and trust him more because we have the ability to experience that together.
Same with crying: By now, he knows me well enough to see that I have trouble letting my anxieties and emotions out in a constructive way. I do not have a place to release those anxieties in my life. I am too busy placating my family members and pleasing my bosses. I cannot unleash an emotional torrent on them and I do not know what to do with these feelings. I suppose I could take up kickboxing, but that's not my cup of tea.
Instead, he helps me exorcise those demons in a constructive way. He may bring me down with verbal humiliation or push me past where I think I can go. He is very skilled and knows just how to lead me. The goal is to allow me to release these emotions, to sob with the grief that I feel and to cry out like I have been longing to all week. He absorbs everything as he holds me. Again, there are the emotional extremes, the humiliation and the comfort all in one place. I am not really upset by the experience, after all. It is safe for me and it is a wonderfully freeing experience. Sort of like primal scream therapy for kinky people ;-)
In both situations, if you happened to peek through the crack in the door at the moment when he is holding me down and I am flailing with a look of terror in my eyes, or when I am crying and racked with sobs, you would naturally think "My god, what is that man doing to that woman?" But your eyes deceive you. I have been deceived in the very same way. I have spent days wondering if I should be afraid of him or why he made me cry so, only to talk it over with him and realize that the emotional whiplash of the experience was the purpose, not the fear or the crying. I get wrapped up in my myopic perspective sometimes and miss the point. While I am working that out and until I come to a place of understanding, I come here to write.
That's my excuse. Yours is that you don't always get to see everything that goes on inside this relationship. That is understandable. I don't give you a running account of my whole life that would provide the context for much of what I do. But it is not my job to provide you with a comfortable experience every time and it is not my job to make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside every time. Many of you do feel comfortable and warm and fuzzy, judging from a great majority of the comments. For everyone else, I don't really owe you an explanation as I do not expect you to constantly explain yourselves to me, although I'd like to provide a little understanding from my end.
And that is the point of blogging after all. To open up my world to you so I feel less alone, and maybe open yours up to an experience that you have only dreamed about. Or to educate you about different perspectives or to educate me about my own limitations. I feel a profound amount of love and peace in my relationship and in my submission, and if you can grab on to even a tiny piece of that, then we will have connected in a meaningful way. All you have to do is open your heart and see that I have been here, pouring mine out all along.
Deep
He was above me, deep inside me. My legs were wrapped around his waist. He was looking down at me, holding my head still with both hands. His fingers were wound in my hair. For a time, He didn't say anything. He just moved slowly inside me and looked deep into me.
He leaned down closer until he was inches from my face. "It's time, Kitten," he said softly, pausing to brush the hair out of my eyes. "It's time to give yourself over to me completely. No holding back anything now, you have to give me everything."
I felt the tears prick at my eyes. I tried to shake them away, but he held me still.
"Let the tears come. It's time to give me everything you have. Let go, Kitten," he whispered. We were still moving together, but the sex was almost secondary at that point. We were moving together on a whole other level. It was almost spiritual, two beings fused together, orbiting around each other, dancing in harmony out in space.
"Everything," as he locked his hands around my neck. I floated up with Him, up, up. I took one deep breath and felt him press down on me but I was light as air. I held on to Him as he pulled me away, His lips on my face, drying my tears, tasting me, wringing them out of me.
I don't remember what happened next. We came down together, we must have because here we are, walking the earth with everyone else. I don't remember everything he said or much of what I did, but I remember words of great meaning and promises of forever. I asked Him later if He meant what he said, not sure what I was asking for. Maybe reassurance that he had felt the same soul-shifting connection that I had. He nodded with what I thought for a moment were tears in his eyes.
"Everything, Kitten. I meant everything."
He leaned down closer until he was inches from my face. "It's time, Kitten," he said softly, pausing to brush the hair out of my eyes. "It's time to give yourself over to me completely. No holding back anything now, you have to give me everything."
I felt the tears prick at my eyes. I tried to shake them away, but he held me still.
"Let the tears come. It's time to give me everything you have. Let go, Kitten," he whispered. We were still moving together, but the sex was almost secondary at that point. We were moving together on a whole other level. It was almost spiritual, two beings fused together, orbiting around each other, dancing in harmony out in space.
"Everything," as he locked his hands around my neck. I floated up with Him, up, up. I took one deep breath and felt him press down on me but I was light as air. I held on to Him as he pulled me away, His lips on my face, drying my tears, tasting me, wringing them out of me.
I don't remember what happened next. We came down together, we must have because here we are, walking the earth with everyone else. I don't remember everything he said or much of what I did, but I remember words of great meaning and promises of forever. I asked Him later if He meant what he said, not sure what I was asking for. Maybe reassurance that he had felt the same soul-shifting connection that I had. He nodded with what I thought for a moment were tears in his eyes.
"Everything, Kitten. I meant everything."
Joy
He started in on me before I was even fully awake. He was hard and alert, even as I was groggy and cuddly, and he started putting me through my paces. I dragged through the first part of our early-morning activities. Maybe I didn't suck his cock as enthusiastically as he would have liked? Or maybe I was too busy wiping the sleep from my eyes to come on command?
He flung me over the side of the bed and fucked me hard from behind, taunting my reflection in the mirror. I buried my head in the sheets and tried to find my focus. I didn't want him to make me cry, not when I was already feeling so out of sorts. But the tears came quickly when he told me that all of my neighbors would know what a slut I am from the moaning that was coming from the apartment. I was ashamed and I didn't know what to do.
After a time, I slid to the floor to kneel at his feet. I looked up at him, looking for something, looking for a connection. He smoothed back my hair and smiled down at me. "You're such a good girl for me this morning, such a good little girl," he cooed.
I nuzzled his knee and smiled. He was proud of me. I felt instantly joyous and purposeful and centered. I was doing a good job. I was pleasing him.
When I sucked his cock again, I was more than enthusiastic and was rewarded for all of my hard work.
He flung me over the side of the bed and fucked me hard from behind, taunting my reflection in the mirror. I buried my head in the sheets and tried to find my focus. I didn't want him to make me cry, not when I was already feeling so out of sorts. But the tears came quickly when he told me that all of my neighbors would know what a slut I am from the moaning that was coming from the apartment. I was ashamed and I didn't know what to do.
After a time, I slid to the floor to kneel at his feet. I looked up at him, looking for something, looking for a connection. He smoothed back my hair and smiled down at me. "You're such a good girl for me this morning, such a good little girl," he cooed.
I nuzzled his knee and smiled. He was proud of me. I felt instantly joyous and purposeful and centered. I was doing a good job. I was pleasing him.
When I sucked his cock again, I was more than enthusiastic and was rewarded for all of my hard work.
Trouble, Part III
He put me up against the wall as soon as we were alone together. He groped me roughly and taunted me - did my guests know what He was doing to me as soon as they left? What would they think of me if they knew?
He forced me down to my knees and fucked my face roughly, bruising my upper lip with the force of his thrusts. I tried to pull away, but he just pulled my hair harder and kept me on his cock.
"Up," he said as he used my hair to pull me to a standing position. He led me into the bedroom, detouring through the dining room to pick up the paddle from where I had placed it on the table. As we entered the bedroom, he shoved me hard and I went flying forward onto the bed. I was surprised, and as I hesitated with fear he pulled my dress up over my head and my panties down to my ankles.
"Do you want your punishment now, or later at my house?," he asked diplomatically.
"Now, please," I said immediately. I had been waiting all week. I had to get this over with.
"All of it now?"
"Yes, sir."
He stood back and I braced myself. I gripped the sheets on the bed and squeezed my eyes shut. He started paddling me, slowly building up the force he was using, until I was crying and writhing on the bed. He came over and laid next to me, petting my already-sore ass with the furry side of the paddle. I was taking large, gulping breaths and trying not to sob too loudly. I wanted to take my punishment like a good girl.
"What did you learn this week, Kitten?," he asked. I looked up at him through my hair.
"To tell you everything. To trust you. To think of you first always."
"That's right, what else?"
"That you control everything and that I'm not free."
"Yes," he sighed and he got up to start paddling me again. He hit me in time with his words. "And...no...more...lunches...without...asking...me...first."
"Yes sir, yes," I cried. He pulled me up off of the bed by my hair and deposited me in a pile at his feet. I was woozy from the paddling. I clung to his legs, unable to kneel on my own.
He picked up something off of my dresser and held his hands behind my back. He told me to pick a hand - one would mean 10 more hits and the other would mean 20 more. I reached out my hand and lightly tapped his right hand before sinking to the ground.
"Ten more, Kitten, then you're done." He helped me back onto the bed and I laid there like a rag doll. I just needed to breathe to be able to get through this. If I could just keep breathing...
He gave me ten more hits with the paddle. Then he curled up next to me, lightly tracing his fingers over the bruises blooming on my ass. I felt safe and comforted by him, and any doubts that I had about my transgressions and my rules were gone. My mind was clear and we were starting a new day.
An hour later, in the car to his house, I dozed lightly in the front seat of the car. He kept his hand on my leg and, when we got to the house, he picked me up and carried me inside.
Icy
I was chatting on the phone to him in the kitchen. I was making a drink, dropping ice cubes into a glass one by one. He heard the sound of the ice through the phone and asked what I was doing. When he heard that I had a tray of ice out, he made a thoughtful "hmmm..." sound. I could hear the wheels turning in his head.
"What are you wearing?," he asked suddenly. I told him that I was wearing shortie pajamas, and he made me strip down to nothing while I stood there in the kitchen. "Take a piece of ice and put it in your mouth. Let me hear you suck on it, " he instructed. I lapped at the ice. "Smooth down one end of the cube in your mouth."
I looked around me, wondering what the neighbors could see through the window, if anything. Would a naked girl sucking on ice strike them as strange?
He continued: "Spread your pussy open with one hand and touch the ice to your clit with the other...don't take it off until I say so."
I took a deep breath and paused.
"I'm waiting," he growled.
I touched the ice to my clit and immediately cried out. The cold, hard pain was much more intense than I thought it would be. It burned my sensitive, exposed skin and I wanted to pull the ice away immediately.
"Keep the ice there until I say, Kitten," he urged over my cries. I held the ice, held it, longer than I thought I could, before he let me take my hand away.
"Did that hurt, Kitten," he cooed, as if he didn't make it hurt in the first place. He was sympathizing with me over pain that he had caused. But I was so relieved that he had let me take the ice off of my clit and that the feeling was returning to my pussy that I didn't notice.
As soon as my whimpers of pain subsided, he spoke again with that hard tone in his voice. "Put it back on your clit, now Kitten." I whined, but complied, crying as the pain burned icy-hot on my pussy.
He made me do it over and over again, until my legs were shaking as I tried to remain standing in the kitchen. He even made me touch the ice to my asshole, making me shudder and sob from the sensation. But I did it. I didn't even think about disobeying, although I could have. I could have said no, I won't hurt myself for your sick amusement, I won't get you hard with my cries of pain.
An hour later, after he let me come hard, kneeling in the puddle of water on the kitchen floor, I thought about why I did exactly what he wanted me to do. I thought about the feeling of his hand over mine as I moved the ice toward me, and his hand on my neck as he stood behind me while I writhed in pain. I was struck by how he seemed to be there with me throughout the entire experience, whispering in my ear and requiring my compliance with his very presence.
But he wasn't there, and he couldn't have hurt me if I didn't comply. And he wouldn't even have known if I didn't comply but pretended that I did. But none of those options crossed my mind. In the moment, I did something that hurt me very badly and made me extremely uncomfortable just because I thought I had to.
He reprogrammed me. He rewired me. He's inside my mind now. What else could he make me do, now that I'm like this?
"What are you wearing?," he asked suddenly. I told him that I was wearing shortie pajamas, and he made me strip down to nothing while I stood there in the kitchen. "Take a piece of ice and put it in your mouth. Let me hear you suck on it, " he instructed. I lapped at the ice. "Smooth down one end of the cube in your mouth."
I looked around me, wondering what the neighbors could see through the window, if anything. Would a naked girl sucking on ice strike them as strange?
He continued: "Spread your pussy open with one hand and touch the ice to your clit with the other...don't take it off until I say so."
I took a deep breath and paused.
"I'm waiting," he growled.
I touched the ice to my clit and immediately cried out. The cold, hard pain was much more intense than I thought it would be. It burned my sensitive, exposed skin and I wanted to pull the ice away immediately.
"Keep the ice there until I say, Kitten," he urged over my cries. I held the ice, held it, longer than I thought I could, before he let me take my hand away.
"Did that hurt, Kitten," he cooed, as if he didn't make it hurt in the first place. He was sympathizing with me over pain that he had caused. But I was so relieved that he had let me take the ice off of my clit and that the feeling was returning to my pussy that I didn't notice.
As soon as my whimpers of pain subsided, he spoke again with that hard tone in his voice. "Put it back on your clit, now Kitten." I whined, but complied, crying as the pain burned icy-hot on my pussy.
He made me do it over and over again, until my legs were shaking as I tried to remain standing in the kitchen. He even made me touch the ice to my asshole, making me shudder and sob from the sensation. But I did it. I didn't even think about disobeying, although I could have. I could have said no, I won't hurt myself for your sick amusement, I won't get you hard with my cries of pain.
An hour later, after he let me come hard, kneeling in the puddle of water on the kitchen floor, I thought about why I did exactly what he wanted me to do. I thought about the feeling of his hand over mine as I moved the ice toward me, and his hand on my neck as he stood behind me while I writhed in pain. I was struck by how he seemed to be there with me throughout the entire experience, whispering in my ear and requiring my compliance with his very presence.
But he wasn't there, and he couldn't have hurt me if I didn't comply. And he wouldn't even have known if I didn't comply but pretended that I did. But none of those options crossed my mind. In the moment, I did something that hurt me very badly and made me extremely uncomfortable just because I thought I had to.
He reprogrammed me. He rewired me. He's inside my mind now. What else could he make me do, now that I'm like this?
First Night
I waited all day to see Him. I was restless the whole day, unable to relax or sit still. When he finally arrived, I was already opening the door before he could put his key in the lock. I shuffled my feet and looked at the ground as he stared at me with a smile on his face. I was so nervous. I was worried about feeling different after our time apart. I was worried that his pent-up aggression would overwhelm me and that he would hurt me too much. He pushed his way into the apartment.
We stood in the kitchen and he touched the back of my neck. He gripped it in one large hand and put his other hand against my cheek. He looked down at me and my breath grew ragged. I was scared. I almost couldn't hold all of it inside of me. The way he was looking at me, almost like he was about to devour me. We kissed, slowly, pulling away to take deep shuddering breaths. Each time our lips touched, I could feel him tremble.
He led me to the couch, where he took off my clothes and spread my legs open. He brought me quickly to orgasm with the very tips of his fingers. He kept his mouth against mine the whole time. He was gentle but insistent as he put me on my knees in front of him, and then as he lifted me onto his lap so I could straddle him, and then as he carried me into the bedroom. He hadn't taken his hand off the back of my neck the entire time. He was holding me to him, secure.
"Are you ready for more, Kitten?," he asked as I lifted my head off of his shoulder and he laid me down on the bed. I nodded yes. What was coming next?
There was an amazingly passionate embrace, one that gripped me on the inside until I was shaking my head in disbelief. He came inside me and I whispered in his ear, "I've never felt this way before. How is this possible?" Nothing had changed between us. Nothing could shake our foundation, not the distance, not the stress of the separation or what had happened while I was gone.
Then the ground shifted. I told him, quietly, that I needed him to hurt me. Before I knew it, he was slapping my face, hard. He forced two fingers into my asshole and forced another three into my pussy. He hit me again and again. I offered my face to him until I couldn't, until the blows themselves started to scare me. How could he hit me so hard without bruising something? One of these days, wouldn't my cheekbone just shatter? I was afraid of being hurt and of people seeing the evidence. How would I explain why I had a black eye? But didn't I also want to see the evidence and carry it with me, wearing it like a badge that everyone could see?
I started crying and pulling away and he kept hitting me. My sobs were all pent up inside of me and they wouldn't come out. I was hyperventilating. The tears were streaming but I couldn't let my breath out. I kept sucking air in, in, as the pressure in my chest grew.
"Let it out, Kitten. You're safe with me. You're home with me," He ordered as he shook my shoulders. The sobs finally came out in a torrent. I released two weeks worth of missing him and feeling lost and of fighting on my own. I floated away on those tears, right back to my place at his feet. I felt the soft numbness of my submission descend over me. When he came on my face, I didn't flinch. I could only smile.
We stood in the kitchen and he touched the back of my neck. He gripped it in one large hand and put his other hand against my cheek. He looked down at me and my breath grew ragged. I was scared. I almost couldn't hold all of it inside of me. The way he was looking at me, almost like he was about to devour me. We kissed, slowly, pulling away to take deep shuddering breaths. Each time our lips touched, I could feel him tremble.
He led me to the couch, where he took off my clothes and spread my legs open. He brought me quickly to orgasm with the very tips of his fingers. He kept his mouth against mine the whole time. He was gentle but insistent as he put me on my knees in front of him, and then as he lifted me onto his lap so I could straddle him, and then as he carried me into the bedroom. He hadn't taken his hand off the back of my neck the entire time. He was holding me to him, secure.
"Are you ready for more, Kitten?," he asked as I lifted my head off of his shoulder and he laid me down on the bed. I nodded yes. What was coming next?
There was an amazingly passionate embrace, one that gripped me on the inside until I was shaking my head in disbelief. He came inside me and I whispered in his ear, "I've never felt this way before. How is this possible?" Nothing had changed between us. Nothing could shake our foundation, not the distance, not the stress of the separation or what had happened while I was gone.
Then the ground shifted. I told him, quietly, that I needed him to hurt me. Before I knew it, he was slapping my face, hard. He forced two fingers into my asshole and forced another three into my pussy. He hit me again and again. I offered my face to him until I couldn't, until the blows themselves started to scare me. How could he hit me so hard without bruising something? One of these days, wouldn't my cheekbone just shatter? I was afraid of being hurt and of people seeing the evidence. How would I explain why I had a black eye? But didn't I also want to see the evidence and carry it with me, wearing it like a badge that everyone could see?
I started crying and pulling away and he kept hitting me. My sobs were all pent up inside of me and they wouldn't come out. I was hyperventilating. The tears were streaming but I couldn't let my breath out. I kept sucking air in, in, as the pressure in my chest grew.
"Let it out, Kitten. You're safe with me. You're home with me," He ordered as he shook my shoulders. The sobs finally came out in a torrent. I released two weeks worth of missing him and feeling lost and of fighting on my own. I floated away on those tears, right back to my place at his feet. I felt the soft numbness of my submission descend over me. When he came on my face, I didn't flinch. I could only smile.
After
I'm not sure that I can describe what happened the other night. Even if I could describe everything, I don't know if I would be willing to share some of the details. I do know that a part of me fell away that night. I am not the same person I was a week ago.
He was pushing up against a limit of mine, one we hadn't discussed per se, but he know about. He had worked the areas around this limit before but he had never gone this far. In the end, he didn't push me over the edge. Instead, he took me right there and let me go. I fell over the edge on my own.
I knew that something inside me had snapped when I heard my own voice: the desperate begging in that little girl voice and the gasping, hyperventilating sobs. I wasn't there consciously. He brought me to that place and I fell backwards in time until I was at my most vulnerable place, somewhere completely exposed and defenseless.
It made me feel the most powerless that I have ever felt in my life. I almost could not bear the feeling of helplessness. It made me want to fight him at the same time I knew that to fight would be pointless. That made me resent him all the more, resent his control and where it had brought me.
He asked me what I was feeling, so I told him my only thought from the bottom of that pit of despair: "I hate you." It was the most honest thing I have ever said. I stared right at him with clear eyes. "I hate you." He made me say it over and over. God, it turned him on. I could see that fire in his eyes as he touched himself. He could see where he had brought me - to a place of completely helpless rage - and that turned him on. It was the most fascinating thing I have ever seen.
He started into my eyes with an unbelievable intensity. He held my gaze for a long time. He didn't blink. I could hear him inside my head. I don't feel comfortable sharing what he said, but he brought me to tears with his unspoken words. As he continued to stare into me, I could feel him physically inside my mind. I could see those dark rooms and could feel him opening doors.
I was dizzy. I blinked my eyes into focus and he was there looking at me with a curious expression on his face. He described the same things that I had seen before I could tell him. I felt, more than ever, that he had brought me to such a point that he could invade my mind.
"I own you, Kitten, every inch of you, inside and out. I own your will and your soul and your mind. You're mine forever. You're mine."
He was pushing up against a limit of mine, one we hadn't discussed per se, but he know about. He had worked the areas around this limit before but he had never gone this far. In the end, he didn't push me over the edge. Instead, he took me right there and let me go. I fell over the edge on my own.
I knew that something inside me had snapped when I heard my own voice: the desperate begging in that little girl voice and the gasping, hyperventilating sobs. I wasn't there consciously. He brought me to that place and I fell backwards in time until I was at my most vulnerable place, somewhere completely exposed and defenseless.
It made me feel the most powerless that I have ever felt in my life. I almost could not bear the feeling of helplessness. It made me want to fight him at the same time I knew that to fight would be pointless. That made me resent him all the more, resent his control and where it had brought me.
He asked me what I was feeling, so I told him my only thought from the bottom of that pit of despair: "I hate you." It was the most honest thing I have ever said. I stared right at him with clear eyes. "I hate you." He made me say it over and over. God, it turned him on. I could see that fire in his eyes as he touched himself. He could see where he had brought me - to a place of completely helpless rage - and that turned him on. It was the most fascinating thing I have ever seen.
He started into my eyes with an unbelievable intensity. He held my gaze for a long time. He didn't blink. I could hear him inside my head. I don't feel comfortable sharing what he said, but he brought me to tears with his unspoken words. As he continued to stare into me, I could feel him physically inside my mind. I could see those dark rooms and could feel him opening doors.
I was dizzy. I blinked my eyes into focus and he was there looking at me with a curious expression on his face. He described the same things that I had seen before I could tell him. I felt, more than ever, that he had brought me to such a point that he could invade my mind.
"I own you, Kitten, every inch of you, inside and out. I own your will and your soul and your mind. You're mine forever. You're mine."
Nothing
He is breaking me, taking little pieces of myself away. I feel lighter every day.
He was handling me roughly, throwing me down on the bed, pinning my head back to ram his cock down my throat, choking me until I felt light-headed. And he was taunting me the whole time, calling me a slut, get on your knees, you little bitch, you dirty whore. He kept at it, getting under my skin, scaring me with the evil look in his eyes.
He wanted me to tell him that I was a slut, repeat those hateful words back to him. I hesitated beneath him. I cried with my head against the floor as he pounded into me from behind.
"Why are you crying, slut?," he demanded between thrusts.
I just shook my head and whimpered.
"Stop whimpering like a little bitch. I don't need to hear anything out of you." I buried my head in my hands and then covered my mouth.
He suddenly pulled out and picked my head up by my hair. "You are a slut, you know that?"
"No, I'm not," I mumbled.
"Oh really? You're not?" He held me by the neck, tight. I didn't dare move. "You're not the girl who fucked strangers? Who sucked off boys while you were on vacation with your ex-boyfriend?"
I lowered my eyes in shame. "Look at me," he demanded. I looked back up at him as tears fell from my eyes.
"You're not the girl who wants two cocks at the same time?" I couldn't deny that. I had asked for that.
"I thought so. You're a slut, you're my little slut. You're my whore, just three wholes for me to fuck. You're nothing but a whore for me to fuck. You're nothing."
I felt the rage well up inside me. I heard my voice scream inside my head: I'M NOT NOTHING! I have a name and a family and friends who love me and a great career. I am so many things. I AM NOT NOTHING.
But I didn't say that, not out loud. I looked into his eyes and felt the will drain out of me. His hand closed over my mouth and he pushed me down onto the floor. I laid there quietly, overcome. When he finally came all over my naked body, I was able to close my eyes. I let the darkness take me away.
He was handling me roughly, throwing me down on the bed, pinning my head back to ram his cock down my throat, choking me until I felt light-headed. And he was taunting me the whole time, calling me a slut, get on your knees, you little bitch, you dirty whore. He kept at it, getting under my skin, scaring me with the evil look in his eyes.
He wanted me to tell him that I was a slut, repeat those hateful words back to him. I hesitated beneath him. I cried with my head against the floor as he pounded into me from behind.
"Why are you crying, slut?," he demanded between thrusts.
I just shook my head and whimpered.
"Stop whimpering like a little bitch. I don't need to hear anything out of you." I buried my head in my hands and then covered my mouth.
He suddenly pulled out and picked my head up by my hair. "You are a slut, you know that?"
"No, I'm not," I mumbled.
"Oh really? You're not?" He held me by the neck, tight. I didn't dare move. "You're not the girl who fucked strangers? Who sucked off boys while you were on vacation with your ex-boyfriend?"
I lowered my eyes in shame. "Look at me," he demanded. I looked back up at him as tears fell from my eyes.
"You're not the girl who wants two cocks at the same time?" I couldn't deny that. I had asked for that.
"I thought so. You're a slut, you're my little slut. You're my whore, just three wholes for me to fuck. You're nothing but a whore for me to fuck. You're nothing."
I felt the rage well up inside me. I heard my voice scream inside my head: I'M NOT NOTHING! I have a name and a family and friends who love me and a great career. I am so many things. I AM NOT NOTHING.
But I didn't say that, not out loud. I looked into his eyes and felt the will drain out of me. His hand closed over my mouth and he pushed me down onto the floor. I laid there quietly, overcome. When he finally came all over my naked body, I was able to close my eyes. I let the darkness take me away.
Bound
He bound my wrists with the restraints and laid me across the bed with my hands hanging off the side. He readied the belt, turning it in his hands. Before he began, I called him over to me with my quiet plea: "Daddy?" He crouched on the bed next to me and brushed my hair out of my eyes.
"Yes Kitten?"
"Are you mad at me?," I cried, embarassed by the tears that feel from my eyes. We had had a minor disagreement hours earlier, but I was worried that he was still upset with me.
"Of course not," he murmured. "I'm not mad at you. It's just time for your spanking. You're overdue."
I nodded. I had been desperate for him to hurt me lately.
"Do you trust me?" His eyes were calm, steady.
"Yes," I said immediately and he gently pushed my forehead down toward the mattress. He stood behind me and paused.
Suddenly, he brought the belt down, harder than I had thought possible. He struck the bed inches from my body. I jumped and squealed in fear as he slammed the belt down onto the bed on my other side. I shook with the shock of it.
"Are you ready to count to ten for me Kitten?" I nodded reluctantly and gathered my courage. "Ten across your ass to start."
He began beating me hard, not as hard as he had hit the bed but the threat of the increased impact hung over me. He worked my ass and my back and the backs of my legs. He took a moment to marvel over how red he had made my ass and at the welts on my back, then he turned me over onto my back.
He bound my ankles together with the belt and got out the vibrator and the anal plug. He lifted my ankles and inserted the plug into me, deep into my ass in one quick movement. "Keep your legs up," he ordered as he propped the vibrator against my slit. "Don't move a muscle," he said and off he went in search of something.
I stayed very still, trying not to squirm from the sensations in my pussy and my ass. He returned a few minutes later with a scarf. As he moved toward my head, he picked up the panties he had discarded on the floor hours before. He stuffed the panties in my mouth before tying the scarf around my eyes and practically wrapping my entire head in fabric in the process.
The rest is a blur. Bound and ordered not to move, rendered mute from the panties in my mouth and with my head swaddled, my senses were a blur. I recall the feeling of the plug being slowly pulled out and reinserted, the feeling of the vibrator being pushed into my pussy, filling me up, his fingers twisting my nipples, moaning through the fabric, screaming.
And the release, oh god the release. What I had been craving for days, dreaming about, scheming about. He drew my orgasm out of me until every last ounce of agitation had drained from my body. Every part of me that cried out for pain was now silent, tamed for the moment.
"Yes Kitten?"
"Are you mad at me?," I cried, embarassed by the tears that feel from my eyes. We had had a minor disagreement hours earlier, but I was worried that he was still upset with me.
"Of course not," he murmured. "I'm not mad at you. It's just time for your spanking. You're overdue."
I nodded. I had been desperate for him to hurt me lately.
"Do you trust me?" His eyes were calm, steady.
"Yes," I said immediately and he gently pushed my forehead down toward the mattress. He stood behind me and paused.
Suddenly, he brought the belt down, harder than I had thought possible. He struck the bed inches from my body. I jumped and squealed in fear as he slammed the belt down onto the bed on my other side. I shook with the shock of it.
"Are you ready to count to ten for me Kitten?" I nodded reluctantly and gathered my courage. "Ten across your ass to start."
He began beating me hard, not as hard as he had hit the bed but the threat of the increased impact hung over me. He worked my ass and my back and the backs of my legs. He took a moment to marvel over how red he had made my ass and at the welts on my back, then he turned me over onto my back.
He bound my ankles together with the belt and got out the vibrator and the anal plug. He lifted my ankles and inserted the plug into me, deep into my ass in one quick movement. "Keep your legs up," he ordered as he propped the vibrator against my slit. "Don't move a muscle," he said and off he went in search of something.
I stayed very still, trying not to squirm from the sensations in my pussy and my ass. He returned a few minutes later with a scarf. As he moved toward my head, he picked up the panties he had discarded on the floor hours before. He stuffed the panties in my mouth before tying the scarf around my eyes and practically wrapping my entire head in fabric in the process.
The rest is a blur. Bound and ordered not to move, rendered mute from the panties in my mouth and with my head swaddled, my senses were a blur. I recall the feeling of the plug being slowly pulled out and reinserted, the feeling of the vibrator being pushed into my pussy, filling me up, his fingers twisting my nipples, moaning through the fabric, screaming.
And the release, oh god the release. What I had been craving for days, dreaming about, scheming about. He drew my orgasm out of me until every last ounce of agitation had drained from my body. Every part of me that cried out for pain was now silent, tamed for the moment.
Tears, Part II
We laid on top of the blankets in our pajamas, face to face. He was so close that his features were blurred, chocolate brown eyes, soft lips, my fingers against his cheek.
"I love your smile," I murmured softly. "It's the first thing I noticed when I saw you." I sighed wistfully as he pulled me closer. Our noses touched.
"I thought you were beautiful the moment I saw you," he whispered and kissed my eyelids. I blushed and nuzzled his face affectionately. He pressed his hips against mine. I could feel his hardness against me.
He kissed my lips slowly, lingering, as he ground his hips into me insistently. My breathing quickened. I had to have him at that moment.
"Please," I begged quietly against his lips, "please, can I have you on top of me?"
He sighed with lust and pushed my nightgown up over my hips. He slipped off his pajama pants and quickly climbed on top of me, putting my ankles on his shoulders. He leaned down to look into my eyes as he started fucking me slowly.
I'll do anything for you
Anything you want me too
I'll do anything for you
Oohoh I'm sticking with you
Oohoh I'm sticking with you
Oohoh I'm sticking with you
The Velvet Underground played softly in the background, putting words to the feelings in my heart. I felt held, loved, I felt him over me, all around me. He looked into my eyes as he moved over me. I felt so full that my heart might burst. The tears welled up in the eyes and spilled down the sides of my face.
"Oh, Kitten," he moaned softly and leaned down to kiss the tears from my cheeks. He fucked me deeper, deeper.
I cried for all the love I held for him inside of me, for everything that I couldn't say. I cried tears of fear and loss and hope, above all hope, that I would never have to live without him. I cried tears of overwhelming joy. As I cried, he moved faster above me, looking down at me with such love in his eyes that I could only cry more. He leaned down, cradling me in his arms, even as my legs were bent over my head. It didn't matter how uncomfortable I was. I just wanted him to hold me, to soothe me, as he came deep inside me.
"I love your smile," I murmured softly. "It's the first thing I noticed when I saw you." I sighed wistfully as he pulled me closer. Our noses touched.
"I thought you were beautiful the moment I saw you," he whispered and kissed my eyelids. I blushed and nuzzled his face affectionately. He pressed his hips against mine. I could feel his hardness against me.
He kissed my lips slowly, lingering, as he ground his hips into me insistently. My breathing quickened. I had to have him at that moment.
"Please," I begged quietly against his lips, "please, can I have you on top of me?"
He sighed with lust and pushed my nightgown up over my hips. He slipped off his pajama pants and quickly climbed on top of me, putting my ankles on his shoulders. He leaned down to look into my eyes as he started fucking me slowly.
I'll do anything for you
Anything you want me too
I'll do anything for you
Oohoh I'm sticking with you
Oohoh I'm sticking with you
Oohoh I'm sticking with you
The Velvet Underground played softly in the background, putting words to the feelings in my heart. I felt held, loved, I felt him over me, all around me. He looked into my eyes as he moved over me. I felt so full that my heart might burst. The tears welled up in the eyes and spilled down the sides of my face.
"Oh, Kitten," he moaned softly and leaned down to kiss the tears from my cheeks. He fucked me deeper, deeper.
I cried for all the love I held for him inside of me, for everything that I couldn't say. I cried tears of fear and loss and hope, above all hope, that I would never have to live without him. I cried tears of overwhelming joy. As I cried, he moved faster above me, looking down at me with such love in his eyes that I could only cry more. He leaned down, cradling me in his arms, even as my legs were bent over my head. It didn't matter how uncomfortable I was. I just wanted him to hold me, to soothe me, as he came deep inside me.
Plug
He made me take my pants off in the kitchen. I stood there in my sweater, black lace thong panties and boots. "Take those off too," he gestured to the sweater and panties, "but keep your boots on." He put my hands on the counter and kicked my feet apart so he could feel between my legs. I was already so wet.
He led me by the hand into the bedroom and laid me down on the bed while he lit a candle and got settled. "Close your eyes," he said and I did. I felt his hands all over my body, then the sting of the hot wax across my breasts. I opened my eyes and squealed in surprise, eliciting a stern "Close them!," from him. He trailed the wax down my stomach and on the insides of my thighs, drawing more squeals out of me. He flipped me over onto my stomach and dripped the wax down my back and onto my ass.
He pulled my head up by my hair. "Get down there and suck it," he growled. I knelt between his legs and took his cock into my mouth, sucking slowly with his hand in my hair. I pulled my head up and he smacked me across the face. He put my face back down on his cock and pulled me back up by my hair and slapped me again. The slaps were harder than I'm used to and I felt the tears well up hot, fast. He put me back down on this cock and I stifled a sob as I sucked. Back up, slap, back down on his cock, repeated, again and again. Tears streaming, nose running, he didn't stop. He kept going, again and again.
He lifted me up and put me on my knees on the floor beside the bed. He stood over me and held up his hand to slap me. I flinched, put my hand up to my face. "Put your arms down and hold still," he warned as he twisted his hand tighter in my hair. I clenched my fists to my sides and tilted my face up toward him.
"Good girl," he cooed, caressing my face before slapping me hard against my cheek, harder than I thought possible. I started sobbing again, shaking with the tears. "I can go easier on you. I can stop," he suggested in his most patronizing voice.
"No, no, please don't stop," I begged, knowing that this was what he had been waiting for all week, what I had been waiting for for a lifetime. He slapped me as he taunted me over and over again.
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No, please don't stop."
"I can't hear you."
"Please, don't stop!" And he landed the hardest blow yet.
***
That's the last thing that I remember before I went under, before I went away. My body kept moving and feeling, but I was somewhere else. I was on that ocean shore at night, watching the waves crash and pull back. I was in the special place where I go to in deep meditation. I wasn't with Him anymore.
I only know what happened next because he put the pieces together for me later.
He brought me back up onto the bed and spanked me until my ass was red and hot to his touch. Then he got out the new anal plug that he bought me as I laid on my stomach on the bed. The plug is purple and has two bulbs so it can go partway in or sink deep all the way in to the widest point. He bought the plug to get me ready to take his cock. After he trained me with the plug, I'd have no more excuses.
He lubed up my asshole with his fingers, probing in and out as I moaned softly into the sheets. He slid the plug in partway and wiggled it slowly back and forth, watching me squirm. After a moment, he pushed it all the way in.
That's when he took the pictures, the humiliating record of how very submissive I was to him at that moment. The close-ups of the plug deep in my ass, the shots of me on all fours from behind with the plug in my ass, the full-length pictures of me sprawled out on the bed with his hand opening the lips of my pussy. And the worst one - the shot of my face with that priceless look.
After a couple of minutes, he noticed that I seemed more uncomfortable. I was squirming and started begging him to take the plug out. He made me lift my head so he could hear me beg and he saw me crawl back onto all fours. I rocked back and forth, begging and crying.
***
Somewhere deep in the sand, I felt the pressure of the plug. I tried to stay, I kept repeating my mantra to myself but I was being pulled away.
Suddenly, I was back on the bed with the plug in my ass. I was crying, pleading for him to take it out. It was too much. He pushed it in farther, wiggled it back and forth as I rocked and moaned, and then he finally pulled it out. I collapsed in exhaustion on the bed and went back under.
***
Again, He fills in the missing pieces. He pushed the plug halfway in and told me to touch my pussy while he did it. I laid on my stomach with my arm underneath me, rubbing my wet clit with three fingers. My moaning turned guttural, until I was practically an animal writhing beneath him. As I grew closer to coming, I begged him to push the plug all the way in.
He did and I exploded, screaming obscenities.
After that, he removed the plug and stroked my hair while my breathing returned to normal. He lifted me onto his lap and had me straddle him. Spent, I fucked him with my head down on his shoulder. Although I don't remember this, apparently I didn't stop talking the entire time, telling him that I have never loved anyone as much as him. He came hard inside me, holding me tight.
***
I came back out. "What was that?," I asked, dazed. What had just happened?
He led me by the hand into the bedroom and laid me down on the bed while he lit a candle and got settled. "Close your eyes," he said and I did. I felt his hands all over my body, then the sting of the hot wax across my breasts. I opened my eyes and squealed in surprise, eliciting a stern "Close them!," from him. He trailed the wax down my stomach and on the insides of my thighs, drawing more squeals out of me. He flipped me over onto my stomach and dripped the wax down my back and onto my ass.
He pulled my head up by my hair. "Get down there and suck it," he growled. I knelt between his legs and took his cock into my mouth, sucking slowly with his hand in my hair. I pulled my head up and he smacked me across the face. He put my face back down on his cock and pulled me back up by my hair and slapped me again. The slaps were harder than I'm used to and I felt the tears well up hot, fast. He put me back down on this cock and I stifled a sob as I sucked. Back up, slap, back down on his cock, repeated, again and again. Tears streaming, nose running, he didn't stop. He kept going, again and again.
He lifted me up and put me on my knees on the floor beside the bed. He stood over me and held up his hand to slap me. I flinched, put my hand up to my face. "Put your arms down and hold still," he warned as he twisted his hand tighter in my hair. I clenched my fists to my sides and tilted my face up toward him.
"Good girl," he cooed, caressing my face before slapping me hard against my cheek, harder than I thought possible. I started sobbing again, shaking with the tears. "I can go easier on you. I can stop," he suggested in his most patronizing voice.
"No, no, please don't stop," I begged, knowing that this was what he had been waiting for all week, what I had been waiting for for a lifetime. He slapped me as he taunted me over and over again.
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No, please don't stop."
"I can't hear you."
"Please, don't stop!" And he landed the hardest blow yet.
***
That's the last thing that I remember before I went under, before I went away. My body kept moving and feeling, but I was somewhere else. I was on that ocean shore at night, watching the waves crash and pull back. I was in the special place where I go to in deep meditation. I wasn't with Him anymore.
I only know what happened next because he put the pieces together for me later.
He brought me back up onto the bed and spanked me until my ass was red and hot to his touch. Then he got out the new anal plug that he bought me as I laid on my stomach on the bed. The plug is purple and has two bulbs so it can go partway in or sink deep all the way in to the widest point. He bought the plug to get me ready to take his cock. After he trained me with the plug, I'd have no more excuses.
He lubed up my asshole with his fingers, probing in and out as I moaned softly into the sheets. He slid the plug in partway and wiggled it slowly back and forth, watching me squirm. After a moment, he pushed it all the way in.
That's when he took the pictures, the humiliating record of how very submissive I was to him at that moment. The close-ups of the plug deep in my ass, the shots of me on all fours from behind with the plug in my ass, the full-length pictures of me sprawled out on the bed with his hand opening the lips of my pussy. And the worst one - the shot of my face with that priceless look.
After a couple of minutes, he noticed that I seemed more uncomfortable. I was squirming and started begging him to take the plug out. He made me lift my head so he could hear me beg and he saw me crawl back onto all fours. I rocked back and forth, begging and crying.
***
Somewhere deep in the sand, I felt the pressure of the plug. I tried to stay, I kept repeating my mantra to myself but I was being pulled away.
Suddenly, I was back on the bed with the plug in my ass. I was crying, pleading for him to take it out. It was too much. He pushed it in farther, wiggled it back and forth as I rocked and moaned, and then he finally pulled it out. I collapsed in exhaustion on the bed and went back under.
***
Again, He fills in the missing pieces. He pushed the plug halfway in and told me to touch my pussy while he did it. I laid on my stomach with my arm underneath me, rubbing my wet clit with three fingers. My moaning turned guttural, until I was practically an animal writhing beneath him. As I grew closer to coming, I begged him to push the plug all the way in.
He did and I exploded, screaming obscenities.
After that, he removed the plug and stroked my hair while my breathing returned to normal. He lifted me onto his lap and had me straddle him. Spent, I fucked him with my head down on his shoulder. Although I don't remember this, apparently I didn't stop talking the entire time, telling him that I have never loved anyone as much as him. He came hard inside me, holding me tight.
***
I came back out. "What was that?," I asked, dazed. What had just happened?
Consent/Non-Consent
The last few weeks, He has started to play with issues of consent and non-consent. It gets very complicated and he has challenged me to re-examine my ideas about control and submission through the prism of consent.
I do retain the right to withdraw my consent for any activity at any time if I have an adequate excuse. If I am sick, I can tell him and he never pushes me on it or disrespects my health. While we are having sex, I am within my rights to call things off if I am injured. But if I am not in the mood? Well, that doesn't happen that often, but in that situation he is within his rights to ignore what I want altogether. The thing I've realized is that doing so is an unbelievable turn-on for him and an amazing point of focus in my submission for me.
The first time this happened, it was a Sunday and we had spent the morning in bed. After having sex about three times the night before, we had sex another three times that morning. We were both worn out - tired, dehydrated, in desperate need of food. I felt hungover, even though I don't drink. I didn't think that I could take another orgasm. I just didn't have the energy in me. And how could he keep getting hard? It didn't make sense!
Maybe I gave him that look that he accuses me of giving him, the one that makes him growl and narrow his eyes with lust? Maybe he could see it in my eyes. There are times when my desire and my physical capacity do not match up. It is possible that I looked like I wanted to be fucked again when it was not physically possible. Whatever it was, he pulled my ear to his mouth and whispered, "Are you my hungry little girl?"
Yes, I'm hungry for breakfast, I was thinking. But he was talking about a different type of hunger. In any case, he was soon on top of me.
I was fine for the first couple of minutes, until he started fucking me harder and I started to feel a bit sore. I whined a little, thinking that he would let me stop, or at the very least change positions or use some lube. Instead, he seemed spurred on by my complaining and fucked me harder.
I started to ask him more desperately to stop. I was pleading with him. "Please, please, it hurts, I can't anymore, please..."
"Keep begging. Beg me to stop fucking your sore pussy, go ahead, beg me."
I felt wrung out and exhausted. I couldn't even keep my hips at an angle that would minimize the impact of his thrusts. After a time, I couldn't even keep my legs around his waist. I was sobbing - making the sound a person makes when she is crying - but the tears wouldn't come. I think I was so drained that I couldn't even produce tears.
"Why is your pussy getting wetter?," he taunted me. "You like this, don't you?"
"No, no, I can't take any more, please," I croaked.
"Then why are you so wet, huh?"
"I don't know..."
He bit into my shoulder viciously. I was laying underneath him as he fucked me. I couldn't even move in response. I was a rag doll. Was he still inside me? I couldn't tell. I was completely numb. I closed my eyes and listened from far away as ridiculed me for being so unconsciously turned on by his sadism.
And that's what I didn't exactly understand. I really did want him to stop, not because I was in any acute pain but more out of my own discomfort. At the same time, I knew that I had to submit to him. I was intrigued by the fact that he wasn't stopping, no matter how much I begged. In fact, the more I begged, the more enthusiastic he became. It seemed so messed up to me.
I could deconstruct why being forced to do something that I ostensibly didn't want to do would be a turn-on for me, especially in light of my background. Sexuality or sexual behavior was discouraged in my childhood home, something to brand you as a slut and an inferior, base person. To express a sexual desire of any sort would be frowned upon, a terrible breach of etiquette for a proper young lady. As a result, any sexual behavior could not occur willingly. It would have to be forced on me in order to absolve me of any responsibility for my own sexual agency. If I was forced, I wouldn't be a willing, eager slut. I might be the proper young lady that the world sees. There's the mindfuck - what side of the coin would win the toss-up?
But what about Him? I really couldn't figure out why that would turn him on, aside from the immense feeling of control he had over me at that moment. I was begging him to stop and and he retained the power to continue to make me suffer against my will. Was that it? Was it that simple?
The next time, we were in exactly the same situation: weekend morning, overfucked and overtired. I just wanted to take a hot shower and have a cup of coffee, but he pinned me down on the bed and wouldn't let me up. He touched my pussy, slowly inserting one finger inside me. As I tried to squirm out from under him, he started threatening me.
"Get back here." He touched himself, stopping occasionally to slip a finger into me or rest his hand against my throat.
"I don't know, maybe you do want to get fucked," he mused. "Maybe you want my cock in your sore little pussy."
"No, no I don't," I stammered.
"Hm...," he thought for a moment before rolling onto his back. "Get up here and straddle me."
"Please, no. I can't right now, please." I was exhausted and could barely gather the energy to sit up and mount him. But I straddled his body anyway. He positioned his cock right at the entrance to my vagina and paused.
"You want to get fucked, don't you?"
"Please no, please, please no," I begged. He rubbed his cock against my wetness and smirked as I continued to beg and pull away. He put the tip of his cock right against my hole and started pushing it in slightly.
"If you want me to stop, you had better beg better than that," he warned, holding my hips steady.
"Please, please, I'll do anything you want later. Anything, just please, not now."
"Anything?"
"Anything! Name it, I'll do it later, I promise!"
"Silly Kitten, don't try to bargain with me. You know I'll do whatever I want with you later anyway. You can't bargain with what you don't control."
I whimpered and clutched at my hair. I lost all sense of decorum and began begging with shameless abandon. And suddenly, he released me.
Later, after I had recovered in his arms, he looked down on me fondly. "You know that I would never make you do something you didn't want to do, Kitten."
I thought about that for a minute, then said, "You did last time."
"I did, but you liked that too, didn't you?"
"Maybe. I don't know...yes," I equivocated.
"Hmm," he mused and we laid there together, lost in thought. I don't know where that left us, but I don't think I've seen the last of this dynamic play out between us yet. One thing is for certain, and that is that I don't know what to expect - and that is what he loves the most.
I do retain the right to withdraw my consent for any activity at any time if I have an adequate excuse. If I am sick, I can tell him and he never pushes me on it or disrespects my health. While we are having sex, I am within my rights to call things off if I am injured. But if I am not in the mood? Well, that doesn't happen that often, but in that situation he is within his rights to ignore what I want altogether. The thing I've realized is that doing so is an unbelievable turn-on for him and an amazing point of focus in my submission for me.
The first time this happened, it was a Sunday and we had spent the morning in bed. After having sex about three times the night before, we had sex another three times that morning. We were both worn out - tired, dehydrated, in desperate need of food. I felt hungover, even though I don't drink. I didn't think that I could take another orgasm. I just didn't have the energy in me. And how could he keep getting hard? It didn't make sense!
Maybe I gave him that look that he accuses me of giving him, the one that makes him growl and narrow his eyes with lust? Maybe he could see it in my eyes. There are times when my desire and my physical capacity do not match up. It is possible that I looked like I wanted to be fucked again when it was not physically possible. Whatever it was, he pulled my ear to his mouth and whispered, "Are you my hungry little girl?"
Yes, I'm hungry for breakfast, I was thinking. But he was talking about a different type of hunger. In any case, he was soon on top of me.
I was fine for the first couple of minutes, until he started fucking me harder and I started to feel a bit sore. I whined a little, thinking that he would let me stop, or at the very least change positions or use some lube. Instead, he seemed spurred on by my complaining and fucked me harder.
I started to ask him more desperately to stop. I was pleading with him. "Please, please, it hurts, I can't anymore, please..."
"Keep begging. Beg me to stop fucking your sore pussy, go ahead, beg me."
I felt wrung out and exhausted. I couldn't even keep my hips at an angle that would minimize the impact of his thrusts. After a time, I couldn't even keep my legs around his waist. I was sobbing - making the sound a person makes when she is crying - but the tears wouldn't come. I think I was so drained that I couldn't even produce tears.
"Why is your pussy getting wetter?," he taunted me. "You like this, don't you?"
"No, no, I can't take any more, please," I croaked.
"Then why are you so wet, huh?"
"I don't know..."
He bit into my shoulder viciously. I was laying underneath him as he fucked me. I couldn't even move in response. I was a rag doll. Was he still inside me? I couldn't tell. I was completely numb. I closed my eyes and listened from far away as ridiculed me for being so unconsciously turned on by his sadism.
And that's what I didn't exactly understand. I really did want him to stop, not because I was in any acute pain but more out of my own discomfort. At the same time, I knew that I had to submit to him. I was intrigued by the fact that he wasn't stopping, no matter how much I begged. In fact, the more I begged, the more enthusiastic he became. It seemed so messed up to me.
I could deconstruct why being forced to do something that I ostensibly didn't want to do would be a turn-on for me, especially in light of my background. Sexuality or sexual behavior was discouraged in my childhood home, something to brand you as a slut and an inferior, base person. To express a sexual desire of any sort would be frowned upon, a terrible breach of etiquette for a proper young lady. As a result, any sexual behavior could not occur willingly. It would have to be forced on me in order to absolve me of any responsibility for my own sexual agency. If I was forced, I wouldn't be a willing, eager slut. I might be the proper young lady that the world sees. There's the mindfuck - what side of the coin would win the toss-up?
But what about Him? I really couldn't figure out why that would turn him on, aside from the immense feeling of control he had over me at that moment. I was begging him to stop and and he retained the power to continue to make me suffer against my will. Was that it? Was it that simple?
The next time, we were in exactly the same situation: weekend morning, overfucked and overtired. I just wanted to take a hot shower and have a cup of coffee, but he pinned me down on the bed and wouldn't let me up. He touched my pussy, slowly inserting one finger inside me. As I tried to squirm out from under him, he started threatening me.
"Get back here." He touched himself, stopping occasionally to slip a finger into me or rest his hand against my throat.
"I don't know, maybe you do want to get fucked," he mused. "Maybe you want my cock in your sore little pussy."
"No, no I don't," I stammered.
"Hm...," he thought for a moment before rolling onto his back. "Get up here and straddle me."
"Please, no. I can't right now, please." I was exhausted and could barely gather the energy to sit up and mount him. But I straddled his body anyway. He positioned his cock right at the entrance to my vagina and paused.
"You want to get fucked, don't you?"
"Please no, please, please no," I begged. He rubbed his cock against my wetness and smirked as I continued to beg and pull away. He put the tip of his cock right against my hole and started pushing it in slightly.
"If you want me to stop, you had better beg better than that," he warned, holding my hips steady.
"Please, please, I'll do anything you want later. Anything, just please, not now."
"Anything?"
"Anything! Name it, I'll do it later, I promise!"
"Silly Kitten, don't try to bargain with me. You know I'll do whatever I want with you later anyway. You can't bargain with what you don't control."
I whimpered and clutched at my hair. I lost all sense of decorum and began begging with shameless abandon. And suddenly, he released me.
Later, after I had recovered in his arms, he looked down on me fondly. "You know that I would never make you do something you didn't want to do, Kitten."
I thought about that for a minute, then said, "You did last time."
"I did, but you liked that too, didn't you?"
"Maybe. I don't know...yes," I equivocated.
"Hmm," he mused and we laid there together, lost in thought. I don't know where that left us, but I don't think I've seen the last of this dynamic play out between us yet. One thing is for certain, and that is that I don't know what to expect - and that is what he loves the most.
Masochism
I was floaty from the beads. They always push me deep into a very submissive space that leaves me feeling vulnerable, violated even. After a moment to allow an enormous orgasm to subside, I looked up at him.
"Kitten, I want you to ride me facing away from me. I want to see that pretty ass while you ride me." I climbed onto him and slid down onto his cock. I started to ride him slowly.
"Are you going to take your spanking now like a good girl?"
"Now?," I asked. This wasn't right. I wasn't over his lap and he was already fucking me. It really didn't matter because he started spanking me hard. He was hitting me high up on my ass where it stings the most, where there is not much padding. I cried out and leaned forward, concentrating on fucking him.
He worked methodically, landing stinging blow after stinging blow. He pulled the cheeks of my ass apart and slapped me on the sensitive skin around my asshole. I jumped off of his cock and fell forward onto my hands and knees.
The pain of each spank was so acute. I was feeling every moment of it at the same time I was losing control over my verbal reactions. If I was moaning, I didn't know it and had no ability to modulate the sound or the volume. The pain was so big that it eclipsed everything. There was no numbness coming to take me away from the pain. There also wasn't any comfort because he wasn't cradling me in his arms as he spanked me.
I tried to crawl away from him (where to? 12 inches over the side of the bed?), but he held my hips in place. He continued to spank me harder and harder until I broke out into a hot sweat with the pain. Suddenly, he slid a finger into my ass as he kept up the spanking.
I was on sensory overload. Either the spanking or the anal penetration alone would have been enough for me to bear, but together? I could barely relax the muscles around my anus and I tried to withstand each spank. He had one finger, then two, deep inside my ass and before I could process this, he put another finger in my pussy. He finger-fucked me rapidly as he continued spanking my ass.
I was wailing desperately like an animal, head down on the bed. I was clutching at the sheets as he pulled me closer to him, driving his fingers deeper into me. My face was wet - was it with sweat or was I crying? - and my hair was in my face. There were no thoughts, just a rush of pain and noise inside my head. Somewhere, a woman was pleading for something to stop, she was moaning in ecstasy. Was that me?
The next thing I knew, he had pulled me close to him. I was laying on my stomach, sobbing into my hands as he held me tight with one arm. "Look at me," he demanded firmly. I looked up at him through my hair, my body racked with sobs and tears running down my face.
"Speak."
I shook my head in disbelief. I couldn't form words and even if I could, I wouldn't know what to say. He spanked me a few times, harder than he had before, while looking searchingly at my face, trying to gauge my reaction. By that point, I fear that my face was a blank. I remained still as each blow landed.
"You really love this pain, don't you Kitten?"
I nodded. "I need it," I whispered hoarsely.
"Tell me again. What do you need?"
"I need the pain," I mumbled as I crumpled into tears. I sobbed into his shoulder, wondering how I got to this place. "What's wrong with me?," I wept. I hid my face from him.
"Nothing is wrong with you, Kitten. You just need this."
I took several deep breaths and looked up into his eyes. "But why? Why am I like this?"
"Kitten, don't worry. You're just made this way. It's okay." He stroked my face, his eyes warm and glowing. "You're perfect for me, Kitten. You were made for me."
"Kitten, I want you to ride me facing away from me. I want to see that pretty ass while you ride me." I climbed onto him and slid down onto his cock. I started to ride him slowly.
"Are you going to take your spanking now like a good girl?"
"Now?," I asked. This wasn't right. I wasn't over his lap and he was already fucking me. It really didn't matter because he started spanking me hard. He was hitting me high up on my ass where it stings the most, where there is not much padding. I cried out and leaned forward, concentrating on fucking him.
He worked methodically, landing stinging blow after stinging blow. He pulled the cheeks of my ass apart and slapped me on the sensitive skin around my asshole. I jumped off of his cock and fell forward onto my hands and knees.
The pain of each spank was so acute. I was feeling every moment of it at the same time I was losing control over my verbal reactions. If I was moaning, I didn't know it and had no ability to modulate the sound or the volume. The pain was so big that it eclipsed everything. There was no numbness coming to take me away from the pain. There also wasn't any comfort because he wasn't cradling me in his arms as he spanked me.
I tried to crawl away from him (where to? 12 inches over the side of the bed?), but he held my hips in place. He continued to spank me harder and harder until I broke out into a hot sweat with the pain. Suddenly, he slid a finger into my ass as he kept up the spanking.
I was on sensory overload. Either the spanking or the anal penetration alone would have been enough for me to bear, but together? I could barely relax the muscles around my anus and I tried to withstand each spank. He had one finger, then two, deep inside my ass and before I could process this, he put another finger in my pussy. He finger-fucked me rapidly as he continued spanking my ass.
I was wailing desperately like an animal, head down on the bed. I was clutching at the sheets as he pulled me closer to him, driving his fingers deeper into me. My face was wet - was it with sweat or was I crying? - and my hair was in my face. There were no thoughts, just a rush of pain and noise inside my head. Somewhere, a woman was pleading for something to stop, she was moaning in ecstasy. Was that me?
The next thing I knew, he had pulled me close to him. I was laying on my stomach, sobbing into my hands as he held me tight with one arm. "Look at me," he demanded firmly. I looked up at him through my hair, my body racked with sobs and tears running down my face.
"Speak."
I shook my head in disbelief. I couldn't form words and even if I could, I wouldn't know what to say. He spanked me a few times, harder than he had before, while looking searchingly at my face, trying to gauge my reaction. By that point, I fear that my face was a blank. I remained still as each blow landed.
"You really love this pain, don't you Kitten?"
I nodded. "I need it," I whispered hoarsely.
"Tell me again. What do you need?"
"I need the pain," I mumbled as I crumpled into tears. I sobbed into his shoulder, wondering how I got to this place. "What's wrong with me?," I wept. I hid my face from him.
"Nothing is wrong with you, Kitten. You just need this."
I took several deep breaths and looked up into his eyes. "But why? Why am I like this?"
"Kitten, don't worry. You're just made this way. It's okay." He stroked my face, his eyes warm and glowing. "You're perfect for me, Kitten. You were made for me."
Punishment
"What if I told you that I have been writing a blog about us?," I asked shyly as I lay next to him.
"Have you been?," he asked evenly. "For how long?"
"Maybe...for a couple of weeks," I admitted. He took my hand and put it on his cock, which was growing harder. I thought he was trying to tell me that the writing turned him on.
"Do you write about how much you love this cock?," he inquired.
"Yes."
"About how much you love to suck it, how hungry you are for it?" He pushed my head down on it and I nodded yes.
"About how I give you exactly what you need?" I nodded and moaned onto his cock. He gathered my long hair into his hands to direct my head up and down his shaft. Suddenly, he yanked my head up by the hair so he could look me in the eyes. He slapped me hard across the face.
"Why didn't you tell me you were doing that?," he yelled, smacking me again and again before I could respond. "Why didn't you tell me?" He shook me and I stammered, "I don't know."
He pushed my head down violently on his cock and held me there until I gagged, then he pulled my head back up by the hair so he could look me in the eyes.
"You don't keep secrets from me, do you understand that?," he demanded, shaking my head by his grip on my hair.
"Yes," I wailed. I was miserable. I had disappointed him and now he was angry. I started sobbing.
"You should have told me," and he smacked me again. I was sobbing, trying to look away, but he held my head in place. "You should have told me." He watched me, let me sob pathetically. All I could do was say "I'm sorry" over and over again. But I don't think he cared if I was sorry, or if I had an explanation.
"Once you stop crying, put my cock back in your mouth." I calmed down and he pushed my head back down.
After a moment, he dragged me by my hair to the place on the bed next to him. He leaned over me and put his hand on my neck, holding my face up so that I could only see him out of the corner of my eye. He put his face right up to the side of my mine and growled in my ear, "You don't keep secrets from me, Kitten. I guess you haven't learned that lesson yet, have you?" He tightened his grip on my neck so I couldn't respond or nod my head. He wasn't waiting for me to answer him, anyway. He was telling me and I would have to learn.
"I think you forgot your place, didn't you? I think I have to train you to be a better girl for me." Harder, he choked me so that I was bucking underneath his hand, trying to breathe. He was getting angrier and angrier. There was no placating him, I just had to take what he was giving me as punishment. All my apologies were worthless. I just had to wait for it to be over.
My upper body was up off the bed as I tried to get out from under his grip and he twisted his hand to keep his hold on me. "Don't you forget who owns you. Don't you EVER forget that I own you." He bit me hard on my upper arm again and again, then finally threw me down.
He knelt over me, pinning me down, and stroked his cock fast. "You're mine, Kitten. Don't you ever forget that." I started sobbing again, overwhelmed by his anger and his power. I felt like a stupid child for disobeying him. As the tears coursed down my cheeks, he came. He came all over my chest and my stomach. I arched my back to feel his cum wash over me, wash away all that I had done wrong.
"Have you been?," he asked evenly. "For how long?"
"Maybe...for a couple of weeks," I admitted. He took my hand and put it on his cock, which was growing harder. I thought he was trying to tell me that the writing turned him on.
"Do you write about how much you love this cock?," he inquired.
"Yes."
"About how much you love to suck it, how hungry you are for it?" He pushed my head down on it and I nodded yes.
"About how I give you exactly what you need?" I nodded and moaned onto his cock. He gathered my long hair into his hands to direct my head up and down his shaft. Suddenly, he yanked my head up by the hair so he could look me in the eyes. He slapped me hard across the face.
"Why didn't you tell me you were doing that?," he yelled, smacking me again and again before I could respond. "Why didn't you tell me?" He shook me and I stammered, "I don't know."
He pushed my head down violently on his cock and held me there until I gagged, then he pulled my head back up by the hair so he could look me in the eyes.
"You don't keep secrets from me, do you understand that?," he demanded, shaking my head by his grip on my hair.
"Yes," I wailed. I was miserable. I had disappointed him and now he was angry. I started sobbing.
"You should have told me," and he smacked me again. I was sobbing, trying to look away, but he held my head in place. "You should have told me." He watched me, let me sob pathetically. All I could do was say "I'm sorry" over and over again. But I don't think he cared if I was sorry, or if I had an explanation.
"Once you stop crying, put my cock back in your mouth." I calmed down and he pushed my head back down.
After a moment, he dragged me by my hair to the place on the bed next to him. He leaned over me and put his hand on my neck, holding my face up so that I could only see him out of the corner of my eye. He put his face right up to the side of my mine and growled in my ear, "You don't keep secrets from me, Kitten. I guess you haven't learned that lesson yet, have you?" He tightened his grip on my neck so I couldn't respond or nod my head. He wasn't waiting for me to answer him, anyway. He was telling me and I would have to learn.
"I think you forgot your place, didn't you? I think I have to train you to be a better girl for me." Harder, he choked me so that I was bucking underneath his hand, trying to breathe. He was getting angrier and angrier. There was no placating him, I just had to take what he was giving me as punishment. All my apologies were worthless. I just had to wait for it to be over.
My upper body was up off the bed as I tried to get out from under his grip and he twisted his hand to keep his hold on me. "Don't you forget who owns you. Don't you EVER forget that I own you." He bit me hard on my upper arm again and again, then finally threw me down.
He knelt over me, pinning me down, and stroked his cock fast. "You're mine, Kitten. Don't you ever forget that." I started sobbing again, overwhelmed by his anger and his power. I felt like a stupid child for disobeying him. As the tears coursed down my cheeks, he came. He came all over my chest and my stomach. I arched my back to feel his cum wash over me, wash away all that I had done wrong.
The Light of Day
The other night, I fell into an inconsolable sadness because I missed Him so much. Things seemed hopeless and his absence became acutely painful. The happiness at my love for him became so huge that it wrapped around into sadness and the weight of my joy became a burden to me. I knew that I had just seen him a few days ago and would see him again in a few days, but I couldn't help indulging in this almost epic-feeling sadness.
Of course, I wasn't just missing him. I was also worried about how much it would hurt if I could never see him again. I worried about the intensity of my feelings and their natural ending point. I worried about falling over the edge and never finding my way back. I thought about running away, avoiding the possibility of heartache and that made me even sadder - would I give him up just because I was afraid?
We talked on the phone for a while and, although he was trying to carry on as usual with the dirty talk, I just couldn't get out of my negative place. I cried and apologized, but I hung up not feeling any better. Actually, I felt worse - had I alienated him with my bad mood and pessimistic attitude?
But all looked better in the light of day. I stopped worrying so far ahead of myself and resolved to enjoy him in the here-and-now. I decided to take him, my submission, and our commitment to each other one step at a time and stop letting myself become overwhelmed with it all. I chose to be free and to skip alongside him like a little girl, enjoying every second and not fearing the unknown up ahead.
Of course, I wasn't just missing him. I was also worried about how much it would hurt if I could never see him again. I worried about the intensity of my feelings and their natural ending point. I worried about falling over the edge and never finding my way back. I thought about running away, avoiding the possibility of heartache and that made me even sadder - would I give him up just because I was afraid?
We talked on the phone for a while and, although he was trying to carry on as usual with the dirty talk, I just couldn't get out of my negative place. I cried and apologized, but I hung up not feeling any better. Actually, I felt worse - had I alienated him with my bad mood and pessimistic attitude?
But all looked better in the light of day. I stopped worrying so far ahead of myself and resolved to enjoy him in the here-and-now. I decided to take him, my submission, and our commitment to each other one step at a time and stop letting myself become overwhelmed with it all. I chose to be free and to skip alongside him like a little girl, enjoying every second and not fearing the unknown up ahead.
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