Spaced Out

 Saturday something happened. Something I couldn’t control. Something that spun me. I’ll tell you about it.

After our picnic on the couch, we were relaxing and enjoying the house.  We planned to leave for our shuttle in about a half hour so we had a little time though not really enough to fully play.

We talked a little about the sex shop we had visited on the way up. While at the sex shop we had looked at collars.  He had said he wasn’t sure about putting one on me because it would inhibit his access to that dangerous spot on my neck that he uses to torment me. He held up a collar to my neck as an example and bit me there unexpectedly.  It startled me, more than I’d like to admit. 

Now again, on the couch, he decided to torment me. He kissed me fervently then he put a finger under my chin to force it up so that I extended my neck.  I felt vulnerable and exposed. I knew what was coming. My breathing immediately increased pace.  He leaned in and started to go for that part of my neck. I pulled back. I couldn’t stop from doing it.  He gripped the back of my head curling his fingers in my hair to stop me. Now he had me trapped and continued his torment on my neck.  His lips touched that spot and I couldn’t pull away so my hand came up to hold him back and he slapped it away.  He was going to have what he wanted.  Without knowing it, at this point I’m pretty sure I subbed out.  It’s only happened once before this strongly and it was a very similar situation. It seems to happen when he is absolute in his command. My world narrowed until he was my whole existence.  He was my link to survival because he had utterly complete control. I was thrown into a trance-like state. 

He ordered me onto the chaise lounge on my back.  I sat at the corner as directed and leaned back.  He pushed my knees to my chest and entered me while standing. In this position, he fucked me so deeply.  He touched depths I’m pretty sure have never been touched.  It was wicked good.  Strangely, while I’m in this trance state and he’s fucking me it comes to me that our time is limited and I realize he’s about to stop.  

As he rose and said the same thing that was on my mind, it felt like the world imploded in on me.  I was suddenly and inexplicably tossed adrift in space as if my tether had been cut. He was standing over me asking me if I was okay but I was so many atmospheres away I had trouble responding. I know I automatically said, “Yes, I’m okay.” But I honestly had no idea.  My response was just a reflex because I’m trained to respond to him and I never want him to worry.

I knew I had to find myself and my way back fast because I was about to ruin our plans and the night I had arranged. I stood bolt upright to go to the bathroom and sat right back down when I couldn’t balance myself. He caught me and was talking at me. I was trying to respond and not lose it at the same time. I heard him joke and laugh but I wasn’t mentally there yet.  

Finally I made it to the bathroom and pieced myself back together.  We did make it to the concert, I did snap out of sub space somehow…pure force of will because I had to. I don’t advise this method to anyone.

I felt trapped by the circumstances but I should have said, “No, I’m really not okay,” and let my Dominant take proper care of me. Some lessons are hard.  Asking for help…not my strong suit.

Image by Sadisuto and used under CC License 3.0 with attribution and found here: http://sadisuto.deviantart.com/art/Yandere-Trance-Catherine-339979050

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His Way

Tonight Mr. D had his way with me. How is this any different than any other weekend we’re together, you ask? Well, honestly, I’m still working that out in my head.

It wasn’t what he did to my body.  The details of that are easy to describe.  He sat in his chair and pulled me to him.  He pushed up my dress and kissed my stomach, thighs, and back as I pulled off my dress.  He turned me around and pushed my back down so I leaned over the bed, ass presented to him.  His mouth probed me then.  His lips and tongue found my tight puckered asshole. His finger pushed inside my pussy.  His hands caressed me, fervent and sensual. “Kneel on the bed.” He commanded.

He undressed and his grip sank painfully into my hair.  His fingers touched my ass, one pushing in.  It was not comfortable, I was not ready for it, that did not matter at all.  He wanted it.  My body reacted, the traitor that it is.  His fingers plundered both my holes.  His hand continued to painfully grip my hair. Every pull on my hair sent me deeper under the spell of his control.  My body took his cues.  My pussy now wet.  My ass, however, was still not ready.  My mind was a little rebel.  Too fast, not yet, she said.  As his finger pushed in again, I flinched.  I tried not to, I had succeeded until right then.

It did not matter in the slightest.  He had control, I am his.  “Mine.” He says. 

“Yes, Daddy.” I whimpered.

“You flinched. Get up between the pillows face down.” I clambered to obey.  Again the hand grabbing my hair, again his fingers fucking me. Finally, his cock replaced them.  I moaned in relief, in ecstasy.

“Thank Daddy for fucking you.” He said. I whimpered and thanked him. “Is that the best you can do?” He pulled out, hand pulling my head up by my hair.  I cried out.

“Please Daddy!  I love it, please, thank you for fucking me.” Incoherent, halting, angst driven submissive babbling ensued.

“You are mine.  You do what I say.  Your body is mine.  You are mine.  Do you understand?!?”  

“Yes Daddy yes!” He plowed deep inside me from behind again.  Pumped me hard while I thanked him profusely for fucking me.  I couldn’t stop thanking him.  I just had to, it was imperative to my existence.  I was desperate to please him.  I was deep under his power and my whole being was filled with a desperation to do better, to please more.

With a sudden shuddering explosion he came inside me.  Panting and dizzy with his power, we both came down from that indescribable place.

I curled up into him. I felt so emotional, so vulnerable.  Yes, that’s it…raw and vulnerable.  It took me a while to swim back up through the layers and find my normal self again.

Thinking about it.  This was real, absolute Dominance and submission.  He took.  I had no choice.  My only will left was the will to obey. 

Injury

I feel like a bad partner.  We thought Mr. D was fully healed but last night we had sex before going out to an event.  I wanted him so badly I practically begged him because it would put us late and I just didn’t care about that.  So, we had fast sex, which was so great.  If I haven’t seen him for a few days I just get wound tight and I’ll do anything to have him inside me.

Sadly, though, his skin tore a little.  He has a sensitive spot that keeps tearing.  I looked it up online and there must be a tiny bit of scar tissue there that keeps ripping when we have sex.  So, ugh.  I think maybe we should let it heal all the way and I should massage the area to try to make the tissue pliable again. Either way, we need to use lube for a while to help the situation.

So, when we returned from the event we knew better than to do anything again.  But was I good?  Nope!  He started touching my neck, putting a light choke hold on me to torment me and damn it I couldn’t stop him.  I went into full sub mode, I don’t seem to have an ounce of control around him. I thought, Okay, he’s teasing me.  we’re trying new things lately, he’s talking to me and touching me, this won’t go further. Next thing I know his hands are inside me and I’m writhing under his fingers. I’m soaked and then he’s on top of me.  I froze.  I knew it would hurt him and so when he pushed into me I dried up.  Can my body really read my damned mind that fast?  Seriously.  

But then he was inside me and my little rebel body didn’t listen to me and I responded to him.  He began to fuck me.  My mind was all over the place.  Slipping into that passionate fuzzy space where all I want is more alternating with nurse mentality watching for any wince from him.  

Shortly he stopped.  “Damn, it stings.”  

I’m worthless to help this situation.  I’m going to have to tie my damned thighs together, I swear.

The Elephant in the Room

I have a confession. I know this isn’t church, it’s a blog. But I have read a lot of blogs from D/s folks recently and I see a trend. I don’t want to be a pie-in-the-sky writer. I won’t be the one telling you everything is ‘amazing’ and spectacular all the time if it isn’t. My goals are to understand my role in this lifestyle, to keep Mr. D informed of all that goes on in my mind (because he wants to know) and also to entertain. I love to write for others because it makes me happy to make people smile or laugh or cry or sigh or ignite with passion. It’s part of the submissiveness that is me. I love sharing the whole range of emotions.

I can’t orgasm with Mr. D. I can’t orgasm with anyone actually. I can come just fine while masturbating by myself but with someone else it seems like I lose focus or I’m focused on them or who knows why. Twenty years in a relationship and I chocked it up to many things back then. Shyness at first, I was a teenager and very shy and conservative. Later when we were older and had problems it was our lack of being connected or his lack of interest in others. My ex was and still is a somewhat self-centered person. So, it was easy enough to pin my problem on that. Sex was good but just not focused on me except for occasionally. It was really easy to hide behind that. Then it became habit. We couldn’t figure it out so we gave up. I gave up because it was horrible being the one who was making our sex difficult. He gave up because I asked him to give up. I thought of it as my problem not his. He was getting off either way so what did it matter?

There is a really big problem with continuing that old line of reasoning, however. It does matter. Also, Mr. D does care. It matters to him and because it matters to him it matters very much to me. Add to that a D/s dynamic with all the varied ways you can control someone through their orgasms…orgasm denial, orgasm control, edge play, etc. and you can see the huge flaw in avoiding this issue. There is so much I’m denying him right now. This is supposed to be about him having control over me not my issues having control over both of us.

I have tried making it a non-issue. I’ve talked with Mr. D about it. It truly does not affect how I feel about our sex. I’ve never had sex like this. The depth of it and the way he gets in my head is more than I could have ever dreamed. It’s everything I had hoped for in every fantasy I’ve ever had about being in a D/s relationship. When I began studying about the lifestyle many years ago, I thought that maybe the intensity of D/s play would be what would kick me out of this problem. So far, it hasn’t. And I see it concerning Mr. D. He’s never been with anyone he couldn’t get over the edge.

This weekend there was a point where we were deep in play and Mr. D was inside my head. I expressed in a previous blog that it felt like he went past walls I didn’t know I had. I see this as hope. I know the longer we’re together the deeper we’ll go and the more he’ll learn how to get into my headspace. I think this is key. But I also think I need to take matters into my own hands, too. I have started to masturbate every day. I have given my habits some thought. Due to my life as a working mom, I have limited time and so my sexual alone time in a regular week has devolved into five minutes of porn on my phone until I get off and then fell asleep. This is no way to fix a problem. I have all but lost my ability to get off on my own. So, I’ve decided to masturbate with no visual assistance and as much as possible. If the problem is in my head then I need to be ‘in there’ as much as possible to figure this out. I can’t just show up to my Mr. D each week and say ‘help poor me with this’. We tried me masturbating in front of him and with him helping but no go. I could have continued forever but my mind kept wandering around in circles…first on him, then on me, then fantasy, then back to him. This is nice, I can do this. Okay, it’s building. I wonder if this turns him on. Oh yes, it does, he’s touching me. Moan for him, he’ll like that. Okay, stop that, this is supposed to be for you. Try fantasizing…okay, there you go…collared on a leash in public….no wait, bent over his spanking bench…no wait, how long have I been doing this he’s got to be bored by now….ugh! What a piece of work I can be left all alone in my own head. Ugh again.

But with Mr. D in charge all that goes out the window. I’m completely singularly focused. I’m intoxicated and addicted…panting and eager to please. He sends me to such dizzying heights of passion, further than I’ve ever gone and completely utterly lost in the moment. So, why don’t I spill over the edge from that dizzying height in the throes of all the passion he inspires? No idea.

For the moment I’m trying daily enforced masturbation. I’ll keep you posted.

Backdoor Update

Dolly_Morton_Illustration_2Mr. D has two desires that I have yet to fulfill.  One is anal sex.  He is training me for this and I know it will happen soon.  I’ve had a taxing week so I did not do any training with the plug. I know Mr. D understands but I still felt rotten about it.  I really need to take a step back from my life and reprioritize things so my responsibilities don’t bury me like they did this week.

Last night, Mr. D fucked my ass with his fingers.  Instead of my training, this is what I got.  Oh my goodness, it was intense.  He flips me over and mounts me doggie style.  His cock fills me in front and then he works his fingers inside my tight little hole.   It had been a week since the last time and this time he did it swiftly.  I’m obviously getting used to him being there.  It did not take any time for me to relax.  He was in and then moving his fingers quickly in and out of me.  The pleasure is truly indescribable.

I’m pretty sure I was talking to Mr. D.  I think I begged him to fuck my ass. “Yes, Daddy, fuck my ass.  I want you inside me. I need you in my ass!”  I was so lost in him being inside me front and back.  I was overwhelmed and kept talking because I had to share my ecstasy with him. I was desperate for him to know how I felt.

Afterwards…after Mr. D came so hard, he said he loved my enthusiasm.  He was panting, recovering and I heard him say that almost to himself.  It made me smile so much.  I loved that.

Photo from Wikipedia used through CC Public Domain

Emotion

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Emotion can be an odd thing.  It can be what gives you wings or it can drop you into a world of misery.  When I was little, I was an emotional girl.  I wore my heart on my sleeve with my joys shared and my hurts broadcast to my close family in a pout or tears.  I remember being one who needed my dad for protection and for those kisses that made everything better.  As I grew older and my beloved father left my mom, I started to notice how people behaved and the fallout from those behaviors.  I saw my mother as a very unstable person.  She was very emotional and didn’t seem to have a handle on those emotions.  I remember one of the times it seemed to effect us negatively.  That night, after my brother and I were asleep, I heard them yelling.  Her voice rose to a shrill pitch and woke my brother.  I remember comforting him and at one point, she came rushing out and started throwing our clothes into bags to leave.  Quickly, she rushed back in for more arguing with my father.  Even then, I somehow knew her emotions had the best of her.  I put away the clothes and put my brother back to bed.  I got back in bed myself and in the morning my dad was gone.

From that point on, through their separation and ultimate divorce, I was her strength.  I helped her as much as I could.  I bolstered her and buried my own feelings.  Over a long period of time I felt somehow responsible to be the strong one.  When I met my first love, it was the same.  His life was chaos.  His family was a wreck with his sister’s addiction.  I became his rock, his family center.  Many, many years later his own addiction threw us both into the alcoholic cycle.  In this cycle, the alcoholic feels a crushing weight of guilt over what they can’t control.  The codependent is leveled with all the blame.  The only way the codependent or the alcoholic can survive this crushing burden is to hide their feelings behind a very thick wall.  It is self-preservation.  It isn’t good but it’s survival.

The first alcoholic counselor I met gave me a test.  He asked me what emotions each situation he mentioned called for.  I could see that my choices were very narrow.  I was suffering and shut off from my emotions.  It was the only way I knew at that point.  Through AA and Alanon, I learned how to find my feelings again.  I learned how to come alive again.  But still, I see that in some ways I’m still the stoic that I made myself to be so that I wouldn’t vulnerable like my mother.  Sometimes, I experience emotions like I’m seeing them rather than feeling them.  More and more these days I’m not like that.  But I know it’s something I still watch.

Mr. D and I were talking over the last couple days.   It has been so amazing to have a 4 day weekend together.  We have had time with my family and quiet time with each other.  It is so needed for both of us.  The other night Mr. D told me about his past.  He told me about how his first marriage ended and what happened in the aftermath.  As I listened to his story, I felt myself getting angry at the injustice of how he was treated and what happened to him as a result.  I wasn’t there, it’s not my place to judge but I feel a strong sense of protection…wishing I could have been there to stop it as unreasonable as that sounds.  What I can do is learn from it in the here and now.  I want to learn more about how emotions are a part of our lives and how I can understand them.

Last night, Mr. D and I were making love.  The more we are together and the deeper he pulls me into submission to him the more I feel myself coming into contact with strong emotions.  He was deep inside me and he started talking to me.  First he asked me what I felt.  I was so mesmerized at that point, overwhelmed but his touch and him inside me.  I said things like, “I feel you deep inside me. I feel heat. I feel wetness and pleasure.”  After I finished with the meager things my sex soaked mind allowed to escape my lips, he said it was his turn.

“Now, I’ll tell you what I feel. I feel heat.  I feel the heat of my need for you.  I feel the heat of your need for me.  I feel the heat of our bodies joined together.  I feel you.  I feel your love.  I feel your touch.  I feel….”  And he kept talking to me as he thrust inside me.  I was completely and utterly transfixed on him and every word he whispered to me.  I felt a wave of emotion so strong for him crash over me.  It was relentless.  I felt myself drifting in a sea of…him. That’s the only way I can explain it.  Finally, he whispered to me so low that I couldn’t hear him.  I despaired that I missed what he said.  I lifted my head and looked into his eyes.  I finally caught the edge of his thoughts drifting in.

“…submitting to my will…being dominated.”  Then I knew where his mind was going, what he was thinking.  His hand came up and his finger grazed my lips to make me open my mouth.  I sucked on his finger but he pushed his two longest fingers deep into my mouth, past my tongue, to grab the back of my throat.  He had my full attention.  His domination was immediate and visceral.  He has told me what an effect his domination on me, I instantaneously get wetter and more aroused.  Then, with his eyes piercing mine, he fucked me with a wild abandon until I knew he was ready to explode.

“What do you want?” He growled at me in his deepest, passion filled voice.

“Your cum, Daddy! You Daddy, I want you!” And then he thrust to the hilt and filled me with his love.  I felt waves of emotion grip me.  So shocking and strong, they held me so tight that all I could do was pant.  Daddy came and as he started to find awareness again he heard me struggling and said, “Breathe baby, breath.” He asked me if I was okay, all I could do was nod my head.  At that moment, I had the strongest urge to cry.  Cry with joy, cry with raw emotion, just cry and let it out.  But I breathed and I finally felt it subside.  It still doesn’t come easy to just let go and not be concerned for the other person.  I didn’t want to worry Mr. D.  He is such an intensely caring person.  As far as we push the envelope,  he is always concerned and makes abundantly sure I’m okay.

Do I have answers to my questions about emotion….some.  But I see that this journey is far from over. I have learned one thing, at least.   Emotion is not the evil I once thought it was.