Asking for it
“I want a spanking that hurts so bad the pain follows you even after it’s over,” she said.
So he asked, “Isn’t that the point?”
“Well, yeah, I guess. Sometimes. But…all of my partners before have been timid. They always seemed reluctant to push me.”
“Maybe they weren’t clear on your limits. Maybe they were just being cautious.”
“Sure. That’s totally possible. I wasn’t the model communicator in the beginning. It was all still new to me, expressing my kinks. My…needs. I was–still am–very shy.”
Her words hung in the space of a comfortable silence between them. He sipped his drink. She relaxed, took a deep breath, and continued.
“I don’t want to be shy anymore. I’m tired of waiting. I need this. I know we haven’t been friends very long, but I’m familiar with your proclivities. Will you help?”
He studied her without speaking, continuing to sip on the whiskey in his glass. She grew nervous under his scrutiny and focused instead on the clinking of the ice against the side of the tumbler.
Finally he reached across the table and took her hand gently in his. “Of course, I’ll help. But first, I want you to be clear on exactly what it is you want. Be detailed, be verbose. Be specific. Don’t leave this to ambiguity; there will be enough to surprise you later.”
She nodded. “I want a safe word.”
“Absolutely.” He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“It’s not going to be ‘stop’. My safe word.” She paused and looked down at her hand held in his. “I want to be able to resist a little, and know that it won’t stop. Even if I think I might want it to. I don’t want it to be predictable. Can you make sure it’s not predictable?”
He quirked a smile. “That, I can assure you, will not be a problem.”
She smiled back, and continued. “I want to feel helpless…and violated. I want to feel exposed.”
“But not just physically. You want to feel like you can’t hide. Something like that?”
She nodded in agreement, and tucked her hair nervously behind her ear before she continued. “I like it when…” She paused, and began again. “I like it when it feels like, when the vibe is like I-know-this-hurts-but-daddy-knows-best.”
“Daddy, huh?”
“Oh crap, did I really say that?” Embarrassed, she tried to pull her hand back but he gripped it firmly until she looked up and met his eyes.
“I think that’s really hot,” he assured her, and then he released her hand but turned his up so that she had the choice to place it back in his care again. Taking another breath, she settled her palm against his once more.
“This is a good start,” he said, tilting her chin so she was meeting his stare. “Tonight, I want you to go home and write it all out. I know that’s your best medium. Tomorrow, bring what you’ve written, and we’ll see if we can’t do something about that naughty bum of yours.”
“Just…promise to make it fun, okay?”
“Darling, I promise it will be a lot of fun. And if it’s not, you just say your safe word and we’ll go get frozen yogurt or something.”
When they left, he walked her out, staying close with his arm draped protectively around her shoulders. Before she retreated into her car, he wrapped both arms around her back and squeezed, kissed the top of her head and whispered, “until tomorrow.”
So this pushed a whole lot of my buttons. That exposure feeling is so important to my kink. It’s hot when I get to do something and deny that I like it but it’s even hotter when I have to say it out loud, and take ownership of my desires. It’s a way of taking on shame during play and it’s uncomfortable but I like that squirmy, stomach flipping feeling. It’s freeing, and exhilarating to think I trust someone so much with things I hate admitting to myself. I love hiding but I also love being made face myself. It’s brave.
ourlexielove
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