I don't even know what I want. He has asked but I don't know how to answer. He treats me like an object, a possession. Something that belongs to him. And I thrill to it. I know I should be indignant, offended, and probably a bit more aggressively in opposition, but... I like it. After two marriages where I felt thrown away it is kinda nice. He told me what I want, what I need, what I was looking for: "You are really just a little girl that needs a big strong daddy, to look after her and tell her what to do." He told me at one of our first meetings.
Of course I reacted internally with "whoa! This guy is kind of intense and twisted and controlling, and dangerous". And I ran away. But I explored a little and as I got used to this idea I came back a year later. Thinking to myself, "all the men Ive dated were too submissive and to easily dominated by my strong, sometimes larger then life personality.I secretly long to be completely dominated by the right man. could it be him? could he be the right man?" We went out again. I just kept liking him as a person, even though his sexual lifestyle and adventures pushed all my buttons of danger and nervousness. I simply didn't think of him as dating material.
When we got to the awkward part of the evening where I generally hug my smitten admirers good bye,thank them for the drink and the chat and wish them a good night. He didn't shrink back or slink away, instead he confidently and gently pulled me against his strong chest and kissed me. And I felt something different for the first time, a sort of deep shuddering surrender shot through me and I simply melted into his arms. It wasn't overwhelming like a romance novel, It was comfortable, easy, right, and I hoped he wouldn't let go or creep away. He didn't. Could it be I had actually found my equal? That was a very novel idea. I was intrigued.
"Bad girls get spanked" he said one day and I couldn't feel the floor under my feet. My stomach had dropped to where my bladder should be. Later, He held my hands above my head "you like that?" he said huskily in my ear? "you like my hot cock in your tight little pussy?" I lost it. No one had ever talked to me like this. No one. I was dizzy with ecstatic pleasure and the confusion this whole mind fuck was creating with in me. I was delighted just being around him as much as possible. I became addicted to his smell. He would parade his floggers and ropes around in front of me when he wanted compliance on something and I never knew what to think. It would stop me in my tracks, wide eyed with wonder, fear, anticipation and a strange feeling of hunger I had never felt before.
Now it stands to reason, since we are headed down this strange and unexplored road into this startling and extreme territory at once shocking in its blatant starkness, and strangely compelling with its simple yet intense trappings, that it would be clear what is happening, or where it is that we are headed. But it isn't. Not even remotely.giving over to sensory stimulation both externally and the internal response and reaction is like unraveling an entirely new dimension of time and space in experiential reality! It is beyond conceptualization or description.
My studies, observations and research has brought me to an understanding that communication is vital and open honesty without fear of recrimination is an important part of the intimacy in these kinds of relationships. And yet the level of intimacy, vulnerability and confession one must engage in is heady and extreme in itself. Never have I been so thoroughly examined, observed and known by another human being. Never have I felt so vulnerable, exposed and scrutinized. Never have I been so overwhelmed by the power of my own desire and emotions that I cannot speak let alone meet the eyes of my lover when he asks a direct question.
For me there is no further for me to fall, the trust I have to extend and the level of intimacy far surpasses any experience I have ever even imagined. But with this realization comes fear. Fear on many fronts. The awareness that he is holding something back -not once has he used those ropes anywhere near me, although he talks the talk- and while he has spanked me in rough housing fun, and teased me with anticipation with his flogger on one brief occasion, I sense his reluctance to surrender and share more with me. It increases my nervousness and anxiety, as well as builds my hunger for an experience I am not at all certain I will even enjoy.
This sort of game playing is nerve wracking and builds an additional emotion in me about somehow not measuring up. This is not HIS first relationship in the BDSM world, and the comments he has made "there is no going back from that kind of intimacy." Make me apprehensive about my ability to cope should we break up. I am jealous and insecure at the idea that someone else still holds his true heart and soul and devotion, and has possibly hurt him even more intensely then I myself have been stung... I am overwhelmed at the possibility of feeling even more intensely vulnerable then I already do. I am terrified, and yet I want every drop of flavor I can garnish from this experience, and I feel like I want it all, now.
So perhaps this slow game of cat and mouse is actually being responsible on his part. But I just don't know. He tells me what to do much of the time and seems to have particular ways he wants me to behave as our relationship unfolds. He questions my every little action and interaction five ways from Sunday. He can read my moods long before I am ready to vocalize them. Yet when I try to play along in the strange little roles we have been developing or ways he has not anticipated or prescribed, the questioning begins and I cannot stand it.
He asks me such deeply personal questions that I don't know the answers too. He tries to sort and label and categorize my behaviors and deduce my intentions. But I am barely aware of having any for sure. Intentions? the jury is still out. questions? curiosity? urges? desires? yes. indeed, and I can barely articulate those. Maybe because He knew me better then I knew myself from the beginning I just expect him to know the rest too. I guess I want Him to Tell Me what it is I want, and whether he is gonna give it to me or not. I realize that is completely irrational and not at all the way a grown up behaves. But I rarely feel like a grown up around this man. I feel so young and vulnerable and exposed and eager to please that I can't even be considered a rational human being anymore...
I cannot be considered independent or self contained in any proximity to this man. Oh when He is away or I am in a tiff and not caring how he will take it, I am fine. Interacting with my old fan club and playing the diva, I am fine, in control making life happen. But with this man I have given up far more then ever before. I can't help myself. I want to. And yet all the feminist upbringing rings in my head to not be that girl. To not set my own life and dreams and goals aside YET AGAIN, because I am the sex slave of some man (albeit willingly). However respectable, loving or brilliant he may be. However safe and valued I feel with him... most of the time.
I have to find the balance. I have to be a grown up. I have to identify and ask for my own needs, for what I want, myself, however embarrassing or humiliating. I have to keep some part of myself separate and reserved just for health, and well being should it end badly, but it is a struggle. And I have already watched much of my life unravel, and my goals evaporate to be put off into the mystical ether. I find myself thinking I am to old to raise kids again for a third time around, and that it is time to see the world and fill my own cup and find my own sense of purpose, fulfillment and joy in the world, but all I want is the strong arms of my "daddy" and his rich; deep voice in my ear. All I want is this naughty adventure I have chosen to pursue. I just want it to be healthy for me, for him....I guess it might be a lot like chocolate brownies... Delicious and sinfully erotic, enticing and full of the promise of comfort, but easy to over indulge.
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