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As much as I’ve loved exploring playing with other partners out here, I miss submitting to Sir so much. Nothing compares to it.

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Filed under things I’m thinking about this morning to get me through the day.

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A year ago, Sir and I tried to have anal. Key word: tried.

Sir had engaged in anal in the past, but I never had. I also had the kind of interest in it that stopped at fantasy. I considered it a soft limit. It wasn’t something I sought out, though every so often I would stop on it in a porn and think “damn.”

I consented to trying it with Sir because I knew how much he liked it and I enjoyed the idea of doing that with him. But, I was really anxious about it. I was worried I would make a mess (I’d heard a few horror stories), I was worried it would hurt, I was worried I would hate it. I also found the invasiveness of it – though super sexy – a little triggering.

We tried an enema one afternoon and I was completely triggered by it. I kicked him out of the bathroom and expelled it on my own, then wound up crying. He took care of me afterwards, but I wound up reacting out of trauma and turning the situation to blame him for “making” me do it. He hadn’t, but I’ve come to recognize these are the kinds of trauma responses I have.

Another time, we tried anal sex and I got so anxious I clenched my sphincter right as he was trying to enter me. Even though he’d made sure to warm me up a lot, it still hurt like crazy because I’d clenched. And, once again, I got super upset and somehow blamed him for making it do that. 

Sir was incredibly patient with me, and we had a long talk about why I was being triggered. He held me and promised that he wouldn’t bring the subject up anymore.

But over the past year we’ve both eased into the idea of it, and I’ve also grown to trust him more deeply than I ever thought possible. So, when he came to visit back in August, we tried again.

This time, I relaxed through the enema. He was patient with me. I let him stay in the bathroom with me the whole time and we shared in the pride of how calm I’d stayed.

Even though I was still incredibly anxious about it, I let myself relax and trust that Sir would take care of me. He was experienced in this. He went slow, tried a few positions, and when we finally had a comfortable momentum, I caught myself smiling. “We did it, babe,” I kept saying, getting used to the feeling of him inside me. I was swelling with joy over the fact that this had turned out to be this really amazing bonding experience which I guess isn’t the first thing you think of when you consider anal, but that’s what this was for us.

So what’s the secret to anal sex? I don’t know, I think it’s trust. And probably a lot of lube, too.

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I hate sounding like a unicorn-hunter because I know firsthand that whole practice can be so problematic but gah what do I have to do to have one evening or a whole series of evenings or an ongoing dynamic like this with Sir and another girl?

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So I’m having an awful day, but Sir is coming tonight (except he’s delayed, boo) and I’m so excited to see him so we can have some cathartic sex to say fuck you to this ridiculous day.

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He’s taunting me about bringing a few surprises when he arrives later today. You all should know there is nothing I hate more ardently than surprises. I don’t like being out of the loop. I don’t like feeling like something is coming and not being sure how I will react to it. Bleh. No.

I was pouting and insisting he tell me when he replied, “some things are for you to wonder and for me to know.”

Unf.

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I miss Sir. A lot. Like, all the time. 

And the situation is only made worse by the fact that he has his own work/family crap to deal with and I’m suddenly becoming more of the submissive I want to be right when he’s stuck handling all of that. I wish I could be able to show him in person how good I can be and how proud I can make him.

I realized tonight that I had done wrong by him a lot early on in my submission to him. In trying to cope with my own shame, I wound up shaming him for a lot of the things that he asked for. I told him stuff was ridiculous or “too porny” when it was honestly something I liked, but I was scared of admitting to myself that I wanted. As a result, he’s totally reticent about actively dominating me and letting me be totally passive to him, as opposed to pre-negotiating every detail of a scene. 

I apologized to him, but I still feel awful about it. I feel terrible about shaming him and how it’s now left him feeling really awkward as my dominant. Hopefully, he’ll be able to visit soon and I’ll be able to demonstrate to him that I’m not going to fall back on things like that anymore. But I still just feel horrible for having made him feel like he couldn’t articulate his fantasies without being made to feel ashamed.

Ugh, it’s so hard to admit when you’ve just plain, old, black and white fucked up. And it’s even harder when I have to wait to make it better.