My favorite thing ever is when he brushes my hair after spanking me or fucking me. It’s this special little quiet time we have together, where we can just be tender and intimate.
gentle
Being a Brave Girl, Part Six
About a week before I visited Sir, I had a tinychat. In that chat, somehow, I agreed to let Sir carry out one of his fantasies that had previously teetered between a hard and a soft limit. But, I wanted to let him try it and so I said I was game.
After we fucked, he brought me over to the shower and asked me if I still wanted to. I agreed and, nervously, squatted down on the floor of his shower.
“I can’t look.” I felt myself blushing and gazed away from him as he (oh god I can barely even write it) aimed. “Don’t do it on my face, okay?”
(Oh sheesh I can’t do this.)
(You guys get what happened right? Right? So I don’t have to say it, right?)
I squeezed my eyes shut and he pissed on my chest.
After he had finished, he told me how proud he was and what a good girl I was for letting him mark me like that. And I was proud of myself, too, but I stumbled up to my feet and asked him to just turn the shower on.
The entire time, he held me close, helped shampoo my hair, kissed my forehead over and over while I washed my body. I know he seems tough and he even admits he can be a “cruel bastard” sometimes (his words!). But, he can really be the sweetest and knows when to be gentle with me and always seems to know what I need.
And how he was in the shower was exactly what I needed after I’d been brave.
I like being dressed by someone else, especially when they’ve picked out the clothing. It’s the right balance of all the good stuff. It’s a gentle kind of control.
I’ve been told I can be a bit tough to break down. I’m never really actively aware that I’m putting up a wall or being in any way cold, but apparently I can come off that way a lot. When I was younger, I got told a ton that I was “intimidating”. I’ve walked away from encounters and realized that I may or may not have taken a few steps to nearly castrate some poor guy. It’s a big oops.
I guess I’ve never really been that great at just being gentle. I’m told I come off as aloof or disinterested. Sometimes even a little harsh or biting when I try to make a joke. But, for all the obsequiousness that’s otherwise in my nature, I apparently don’t “serve” very well in the world of normal flirtation. In fact, I come off as incredibly dominant in either my way of taking control of a situation or my way of somehow coming across as distant.
There’s a lot of people who get intrigued by that. Some for good reasons, some for some pretty crappy ones. But, either way, I find it fascinating and hindering that I just can’t seem to be quite as vulnerable as I am when I submit. This is probably a hugely good thing, but the fact that I can’t even get myself to muster up a small fraction of that vulnerability isn’t always appealing.
I’d like to pretend I’m saving the best for last. But, something tells me that underneath a lot of the bravado I’ve got, I might still just be a little scared.