“Love, I realized, is something your spine memorized,” Lorrie Moore, Anagrams.
bed
I am of the belief that states your bed should be right up against your window.
Because reasons.
Humbled, Part 10
I had puddled onto the sheets by the time Switch was finished with me. He had hit all the points he knew got me off, played every card in his hand, but still kept me teetering on the edge. By the time he removed the gag and asked me how I was doing, I was spent.
“I’m…I’m just…” I couldn’t finish. My voice was something between a moan and a whine.
He chuckled and traced his finger up and down my slit. “Are you sorry?”
I nodded. “I’m so, so sorry,” I mumbled into the pillow, “I’m so sorry.”
I felt him reach up and start to untie my wrists. “what a good girl. Maybe I’ll let you cum after work.” He removed the blindfold and chuckled, leaning down and kissing my shoulder-blade. “Now get yourself together and go take a shower.”
Seeing images and reading stories of really full and complete submission surprisingly disturbs me. If I see things like shaved heads, permanent pieces of metal, horribly degrading tattoos, basically symbols of total surrender: I shut down. I can’t get into it at all.
I guess a big part of it is the fact that I have been that person without having undergone that sort of physical modification. Although it is not the case in the last year and a half, I have totally lost myself in relationships of this nature with people in the past. And while I have gotten smarter and stronger, there is a sort of residual dump that every so often some trash comes out of to bother me.
So I see those images and it rouses some feelings in me. It reminds me that I don’t want to live my life in a cage or give up my ambitions for some sort of 24/7 arrangement. And while it never got that far, there were boundaries that were definitely pushed both within and outside of the BDSM context. As this is something incredibly hard to express in a photograph and in erotica, I suppose it instead manifests itself for me in the more physical displays of complete surrender.
The teensy tiny little girly part of me sort of wants this.
Provided it locks.
From the outside.
Humbled, Part 1
I had been messing around with something I enjoyed from the submission end: denial. Switch said he liked the idea of it. I guess he didn’t realize how mean I could be.
One morning, I tied him to the chair in front of his desk. One benefit of having been tied up so much is I know what works and what’s challenging. “If you can get out by the time I’ve finished my hair, I’ll think about letting you cum,” I said. He looked cocky. I’m sure he figured he was strong enough to just break right out. Unfortunately, he underestimated the power of well-tied knots and cinching.
When we messed around, I didn’t let him finish. To his credit, he didn’t complain. I’m usually a massive whiner. Apparently, he was actually really enjoying this. So, I got confident and started pushing how mean I could get. I wasn’t awful. I just spent a day or two getting him close and not getting him off whenever we hooked up. And then I would tease him about it.
So, the day I got what was coming to me, I decided to be extra cruel. And that’s probably why I got what was coming to me.
A few times, I would just lay down like this and make Switch worship me. And read a book. Or check my email on my phone.
He always kept at it with sincere dedication. For as good he was at dominating me and how much he enjoyed making me submit to him, we both sort of knew that this was his favorite place.
Trapped, Part 5
It felt like an hour had passed by the time I heard the door opening. I strained to look over my shoulder through the darkness as Switch crossed the room. I heard him suck something through a straw, set a cup down on the table, followed by a bag. I groaned and pulled back on the belts once more. There was no give.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured when I realized he wasn’t about to acknowledge me. “I’m very sorry.”
Switch walked back over to the bed, “I bet you are.” He reached down between my legs. I shivered at his touch. “You’re wet, you shameless little whore. Here you are asking me to let you go, you’re enjoying this.”
I blushed and turned my head away from him. He moved his fingers up to my mouth. “Let’s try this again. Lick it off.” My face was flushed as I licked my wetness from his fingers. “You taste that?” he asked as I did, “that’s the taste of a kidnapped slut who’s enjoying herself.”
Switch reached over to the bedside table and looped a blindfold over my eyes. He knotted it tightly and adjusted it, ensuring that I could not see despite the darkness. A few moments later, I felt the fabric of my panties being forced into my mouth. I resisted a bit, but he managed to push them in.
“Now, I’m sure you won’t mind if I have a bite to eat before I get back to you,” he grabbed my face, shaking my head slightly, “be a good girl and maybe I’ll let you go soon."
On Friday, we crossed a few boundaries with each other. Not disastrously, but Switch and I both sort of took the dominant role too far in an effort to please the other. As a result, we both wound up with a little bit of overkill on the cruelty end of dominating something. Fortunately, this wasn’t irreparable.
We talked a little bit about it afterwards to check in and neither of us were completely shattered. In fact, we’d both enjoyed it, but knew there were a few problematic things lingering that had gone on. Mostly, this was in reference to a few acts of degradation that I had put him through and then a few he had put me through. They were just maybe a bit too degrading.
But then last night we actually sat down and discussed the nitty gritty of limits, boundaries, etc. We developed a safe word that works both ways. We admitted our mistakes.
And then we had a really awesome night.
Meet Switch, Part Two
Switch’s natural submissiveness seemed to complement his dominating me very well. He knew what worked. He knew how to tease and how to make me beg and how far to take it. And it really seemed to shine through when one of the first things he really wanted to do was eat my pussy.
And yet there was still a sense of control even in the generosity of the act. He yanked my skirt off and then my panties with an eager roughness. He teased around it for a while, licking and biting my thighs, kissing over the lips. I shook against his face, I whimpered softly when he breathed across my lips, I whined whenever he would get close to my cunt, only to move back away again. The blindfold only heightened the sensations as I begged for him to lick my pussy.
It had started pouring when we left for the night and now the only sounds in the room were my moaning and the rain. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally leaned in and let one long, slow lick trail over my slit. My body lurched against him a bit and I let out a sigh of relief. He could barely stifle a chuckle and I started to laugh a bit as well, knocking the side of his head playfully with my leg to tell him to keep going.
He ate me zealously and refused to stop until I came not once, but twice and was reduced to a gasping, trembling mess underneath him. I barely registered it when he untied my wrists, pulled the blindfold off, and yanked me across his lap.