Submissive Catch 22

The more I hate to do something, the more I’m going to love it when I do it for D****.

Yesterday, D**** left the door open and fucked me and made my cry out when he knew people could hear.  He would stab into me with his cock, holding my arms behind my back so that I whimpered, or he would pinch my nipples really hard and twist them to make me cry out and then hiss in my ear how I was going to draw attention to myself and what we were doing.

The thing is, I really, really hate being public about things.  It makes me cringe when he does stuff like even just kissing me hard and deep and long in a public place, or pull my hips to him and press his cock into me when he kisses me so people can see.  It’s not a turn-on all by itself, it’s totally a turn-off.  BUT… he does stuff like that and then forces me to cum while he’s doing it or talking about it, and it makes me INSANE!  It’s like, the most crazy intense orgasm, because he’s making me cum to something I really hate and it’s just so submissive. 

Face slapping is another thing thart kind of does the same thing, cause it’s embarassing to just take it and humbling cause I know I’m going to.  The first time it happened, I wqas surprised.  I remember that moment so clearly.. there I was, riding him, getting into it.  I thought it was my reward for sucking his cock deep, like a good girl.  Until now, any pain I’d had during sex had been an incidental thing, you know?  Like my shoulders straining where he’d held my arms behind my back while he fucked my bottom.. oh yeah.. and my bottom hurting.  And this time, I knew my throat was gonna be sore by how hard he’d used it.. I thought the nice, gentle fucking with me on top was kinda my reward for being a trooper.

In the middle of my ride though, he ups and smacks me across the face.  It wasn’t hard.  It’s not like it was a terribly painful experience.  But somehow, a light smack to the cheek is just .. seemingly more violent than a good, hard, spanking.

I froze, mid-thrust, and had to decide if I took my dignity and got off his cock, walking away from him because I’d told him I wasn’t a pain-slut and that wasn’t cool… or if I accepted that he’d just challenged me, and my limits.  If I went forward, it was not just accepting pain, but the humiliation of knowing I was subjecting myself to it.  I was choosing it.

And when I came that day, it was the most mind blowing experience ever.  I was swept away with the emotion of it.  I could barely talk for the next day, and didn’t care to.

***sigh***

I am SUCH a sub for him.

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Taking It Easy On Me.

It was just a bit of a rough week. Normally, that means I could especially use the emotional and stress release of a good, extended period in sub-space.  This time, because of the nature of the stress, I just wanted to feel.. normal.

I wanted to fuck like any, common, vanilla girl.  I wanted to imagine I was hard-wired just like everyone else, and that pain and anxiety held no particular titillation for me.

It took D**** a minute to understand I was serious and not just playing at resisting.  I had to explain a bit of what’s been going on for me last week and what was going on in my head that made me need a break from the sexual/emotional drama I usually experience when we get together.

And so he fucked me gently.  He let me face him, and feel him, and enjoy him.  And ok, he gave me a few not so subtle reminders of what it’s usually like, of how he usually has me.  After all, we both know who’s in charge and how we both like it.  But I needed vanilla badly, and he gave it to me.. a bit badly.

So it was very frustrating by the end to find myself begging him to be rough with me.. to use me, to fuck me, to pound my ass so hard it hurt.  I wanted the hurt, I needed the hurt, and trying to resist it was an exercise in futility.

Still, it’s nice to know he’s capable of being gentle if I need it.

I once asked if he’d ever in his life just had lazy sex.  He hasn’t.

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Face Forward

I love to look at D****. I love to nuzzles his neck and kiss his jaw as I ease down on to his cock. I love to hold his shoulders and stare into his eyes as he bounces me on his cock like a toy.

Did I say love it? I meant to say I *used* to love it.. or that I miss it. Or that good, lord, how long is it going to be before I again get to look at him when I’m on the verge of cumming?

It’s been a really, really long time.

He’s not one of those Masters who demand their subs keep their eyes cast down to the ground at all times. When it’s time for bed, I’m free to nuzzle, kiss, stroke, and adore all I want. But not when he’s inside me.

Part of it is the position he likes. He likes to bend me over my desk and stretch my back hole at he pounds into me. He likes to make me look at pictures of my friends getting fucked. After all this time, after all the times we’ve been through it, I still hate playing with other people and he knows it. Making me look at the pictures is a good reminder of who is actually in charge. Well.. that, and I think he like’s Janet’s pussy.

When we’re in bed, he’s just as likely to bring in the laptop to put on the mattress in front of me.. the vulgar pictures flashing across the monitor one by one in a slide show. He puts he on my side, or half on my stomach as he fucks my ass, and hold my head by the hair, keeping my face toward the pictures.

I hate it.. I only want to look at him.. I need to look at him.. but he makes me look at those filthy pictures. And in spite of myself.. because he’s making me do something that makes me uncomfortable.. I cum.

How on earth am I ever going to convince him i really hate it if I keep cumming when he does it?

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Owie

I just spent an hour on the phone with D**** talking me through play time with a very large dildo.  In related news, today I  learned why religious zealots refer to masturbation as self abuse.

Owie owie owie ow ow ow.

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Bringing Home A Toy To Play With

I never imagined I could do it.. I never thought I could watch him fuck another woman without going out of my mind.  But that’s just what I did.

He asked what I wanted to do.. I told him shopping.  It was pretty late and he gave me a curious look, especially when I directed him to a private home.

I knew the party was going to be a fuck-fest for some, and that many would be there to hook up.   As we got to the party, I whispered in his ear, pointing to the different women, “I wonder how much that one goes for.”  He looked to see if I was serious and I had to convince him.  One limit remained though.. I HATE public scenes, and wouldn’t get involved with one.  D**** told me he wouldn’t make me do anything I wasn’t comfortable with….. tonight.

Denise came in and was so ready to fuck.. she literally told the first two guys next to that they looked good enough to eat, all either of them had to do was fuck her.. no conversation, no negotiation, just fuck..  BUT the guy to her left was too drunk to be of any used, and the guy to her right was a pathetic wannabe Dom who said something like “Take off your clothes and suck my cock, bitch.”  She smiled and responded politely, but firmly “now, darlin, I want to fuck you, but I’m not your bitch.”  Instead of taking the hint, he said “no, but you will be after.’  I told D**** out loud “that clopping sound you hear is Louis’ horse pulling out in front.” (Louis was the one who was too drunk even to fuck.)  The dickhead Dom started insulting Denise but was painfully outmatched, especially with me chiming in to throw out comments as well.  He called Denise a mouthy skank and I remarked “and he was doing so well until he spoke.”

Denise came over to sit with me and D**** as dickhead Dom stormed off, calling us both names and making us giggle.  She sat next to D****, who was on the couch across from the one I was in.  She turned toward him as she chatted with me about what a silly shit the guy had been, her thighs apart, showing her bare pussy.  D**** looked to me with that evil intensity he gets, and put his hand on the inside of her thigh as she asked “So, Tessa, you looking for anything in particular tonight?”

I watched his hand slip up under her barely-there skirt and his fingertips to her pussy.. she parted her thighs for him as I told her “I suppose everyone loves a floor show.”  She smiled and said she loved to be watched.

D**** fingerbanged her while I watched with my pulse racing.  Jealousy was honestly not an issue at that moment.  I was just wet.. and the idea that I was watching the man I love so much, about to fuck another woman…. I couldn’t think beyond wanting to see him plow her pussy, and then mine.  The whole public thing made my stomach tense.  Even though I wasn’t the one on display, my boyfriend was, and people knew I was watching him.  It was awkward and humiliation in a tingly way.  I vacillated between cringing and cumming.

She sucked his cock some on the couch, while one guy came over to me to ask if I liked what I saw.  I smiled to him, and looked back to the sight before me.  He asked if I wanted to be played with like that and I gave him a polite “no thank you.”

D**** took her over to the sex sling in the corner and set her up for a monster banging.   I had to twist at the waist to look over the back of the couch to see, but it was a delicious sight.  Three guys gathers right in front, and others watched from a bit of a distance.  I whistled to one and sliced my hand to the side, gesturing for him to step out of the way and let me see.  Denise was moaning and crying out, he told me to come closer, that she loved to be watched.  I stayed in my spot on the couch, though, even her trying to draw me in to watch closely was a but more center of attention than I was comfortable with.  D**** knew it and looked back to me as he fucked her, letting me know this show was all for me.  Another man sat himself next to me asked if I’d like to be watched and I just shook my head, answering again with monosyllabic words.  D**** smirked as the guy failed to draw my attention away from his fat cock going into that wet pussy.

Denise took forever to cum, but she did at last.. loud and crashing.  When it was over, I stepped forward to give her a kiss on the mouth, my eyes on the men who had been trying to get with me.  I looked to D****, silently askign permission to invite her home, though I was pretty certain he’d agree… he’s very hard about puswhing my limits, but kind of indulgent about everything else.

As we rode back to his place, she confessed she had faked her orgasm because she thought we might want to get going… she was right.

The rest of the night was spent in so many positions and in so many sex acts, I can’t count them.  We went to sleep and woke in the morning to start over.  The only time I felt a pang of jealousy was when she put her number D****’s cell.. I already had it.  We’d woken earlier than she and met in the bathroom, whispering about how incredibly hard it was to make her cum.  She was alot of fun, don’t get me wrong.. but as much as D**** and I can be fuck-monsters, she was beyond even out ability to keep up with on a regular basis.

We all liked each other well enough though, and we’ll be getting back together.  I’m afraid she seemed a but smitten with us as a couple, but as much as we liked fucking her, there’s not room for a third, serious partner.  I talked about it with D**** and came to the conclusion that I was comfortable with him fucking a stranger because it was just a fuck-toy situation.,  She had no personality or existence in our lives beyond the pornographic.  It would be different if we grew to know and like her.. then I would be more insecure about it.

I’m looking forward to the next time.

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Dear Tessa

I got one of those letters from Mr. R.

He said it was just too intense with me, and that he loves me but he needs to simplify his life right now.

I’ll miss him, but there’s a huge part of me that is relieved.  I didn’t like being divided between him and D****.  It was emotionally confusing.  As hot as Mr. R is, he’s not D****, and while D**** was drifting away, I could have easily been taken by Mr. R and we could have grown to be devoted to each other.  It was easy to see it happening.

But D**** is there like an addiction.  I’m his so long as he wants me, and when he becomes too busy or loses interest in me, I’ll go through a painful withdrawal.

I can’t say I’m sorry.

So now it’s just him and me again.  I can’t help but wonder what will happen from here.

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How Awkward

Ok, so Mr. R and I are gonna have a sweet, romantic evening on the beach watching the sun set, even though it’s been rainy all day.  And so long as we’re being foolish about it, we took it a step further and decided to pick up some gelato to eat in the middle of winter.

In our defense, we intended to sit in the car to watch the sun set, and the weather hasn’t been so very cold here.

Anyway, we’re in the supermarket picking up the gelato and I turn the aisle to walk right into D****.  It’s kind of weird.  Two years and I’d never quite been able to see him doing anything mundane as shopping for groceries.   We’ve gone out to eat, we’ve stopped to pick up supplies to go camping, but I’d never seen, nor could I quite imagine, D**** pushing a cart full of toilet paper, tea, and deodorant down the dairy aisle.  it was weird.. like being in a relationship the first time someone passes gas.  And frankly, we haven’t reached that stage of the relationship either yet.

I stood there, not knowing what to do or what to say.  I mean, “Hello” was obvious, but beyond that?  I stepped forward to give him the usual kiss on the cheek when I meet him.  I hovered between him and Mr. R.  I introduced them, though they’d seen each other in passing.

After a minute of chat we each went our way, me with Mr. R, D**** with his bottled water and tilapia.

The evening with Mr. R was uneventful.  I was a bit distracted, I suppose.  As wonderful as Mr. R is, D**** is the one I belong to and the one  I adore.  I think Mr. R felt it, but he was decent enough not to let it affect the date.

Things would be so much simpler if I could belong to Mr. R.  He loves me and wants me, and he’s amazingly hot without putting my stomach in knots like D****, but in the end, I think we all know he only gets me for as long as D**** let’s him have me.

I got home and there was a message on my voice-mail.  D**** told me to come over.  He hadn’t called my cell, I’m sure he didn’t want to reach me while I was still with Mr. R.

I went over, glad Mr. R hadn’t wanted sex. Especially when D**** opened my legs and checked my pussy for cum.

He fucked me with what almost seemed desperation.  There were no games, no teasing, no teasing to make me beg, or threatening to make me beg.. it was just pounding away as if he could brand me with his cum.

I wonder if this will be the end to his passing me around?

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Gorean Submission

I don’t know about this Gorean stuff.  I’m not into the whole public scene, and I’ve always been twitchy about calling men Master.

It just sounds so lame to me.  It sounds like something forces.. not real Domination, but a cheap attempt to label something dominant.  Like.. if you were to see something advertised with the word “Designer” on the packaging.  They mean to imply that it’s a desirable label, but if it were a desirable label, they would just put the name of the designer and not call it “Designer.”  The very act of labeling it proves it’s not the thing they haven’t achieved the status they want to claim.

Ok, sorry, that’s off the point.  But what is on the point, is that a lot of these Goreans seem to have no clue about the mindset of submission.  They’re like new drivers who checked to figured out how to get the car moving, but don’t realize you have to change the oil and rotate the tires once in a while.  And when they car stops working, they figure the car is defective.

Seriously, they expect to be called Master and have the nerve to fucking tell me I’m not a “true submissive” because I don’t adore serving and kneeling for every idiot I meet.  They figure a submissive will want to submit to every man, all the time, and the only reason she wouldn’t want to is if her Master told her not to.

Fuckwits.

I tell you, make for one uppity fucking slave.

……..

I hope D*** will spank me for having a bad attitude.

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The Comfort of Restraint

I was so cranky.  I wanted to scratch him and bite him.  I wanted to thump at his chest with the sides of my hands and I didn’t want him to let me.

I didn’t have to tell him.  I never do.

He lets me try and he doesn’t get angry, he doesn’t react until I’ve built up some momentum, when he catches my hands… and then it’s time for me to do what he wants me to do.  No matter how much I don’t want to do it.

Most of the time, I just adore D****.  I only want to worship him and love him, and if all I can be for him is that little bit of stress relief at the end of the day, well, I’m happy to serve that purpose.  In a world full of people who respect him and people he likes and people he’s friends with, I’m the only one he owns, I’m his favorite possession.  No one would suspect he has a little thing, young enough to be his daughter, who worships his cock and does every filthy thing he tells her to do.

Don’t get me wrong, I want more.  I’d love to be a part of his vanilla world, but I’m grateful for what I have.

And sometimes, I want to hate him for not needing me in every mundane aspect of his life the way I need him in mine.  Or sometimes it’s just because he makes me do things I don’t want to do, and he makes me cum from doing them.  He makes me want things I don’t want to want.

Those are the days I want to fight with him, the days I need him to hold me as I struggle to hurt him and I want him to keep me from managing it.  I would hate it if I actually hurt him, but I need to purge those feelings like something poisonous, and I need him to make it safe.

It’s cathartic.  I struggle and fight until I have no energy and he holds me, his cock growing with my emotion.  He forces himself into me, knowing I want it, even though I tell him I hate him.  He just smirks.  He knows hate isn’t the opposite of love, it’s only the dark side of it.  The more passionate my hate, the more passionate my love, and as I writhe beneath him, arching to bite the flesh from his shoulder, I am violently in love.

The whole while he fucks me, he tells me about the things he’s going to make me do.   He tells me about the men he’ll have me fuck.  He hisses in my ear about how he’ll make me watch other couples and let them watch as he fucks me.  He does it knowing how much I hate being on display like that.  He does it *because* I hate it.  He holds me down and his hard cock stabs into me with that heavenly mix of pleasure and pain and I am utterly in his control as I cum and cum and cum.

Afterward, everything is quiet in me.  I feel wrapped in every soft, warm, pleasant thing.  He tells me “time for sleep, Sugar” and my eyes close.   There’s never another thought after that.  Just… time for sleep.  And I do.

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Three Men and I Can’t Get Laid?

Arrrrgh!

D**** is busy expanding his business with a new location.  (G0 my rich D****!)

Mr. R is busy cause the roof over his storage garage leaked and he has to sort through twnty-odd years of collected stuff to see what’s ruined.

Simon has been off with other women as is his way.  I am fond of him, but he has the constancy and attention span of a mayfly when it comes to women.  He’s a good guy but he really does have to buzz from flower to flower or he gets a little crazy.

Hmmmm… maybe little subbies in glass foursomes shouldn’t cast stones?

But hey… it’s different for me.. I’m just doing what D*** tells me to do.

Right?

Right?

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