I think you can call it protocol, when it’s something we’ve decided that I will have to do, and we abide by it. Right? If not, let me know. It’s hard to talk about this thing, probably only because I don’t want to call it what it is.
And why is that, Rogue Bambi? Why do you hesitate to talk about something that you obviously enjoy tremendously doing?
That’s a tricky one. Well. For one I feel the impossible weight of calling this thing A Male Lead Relationship dragging me down. I’m not ready to let go of the idea of equality in decision making and earning and other aspects I can’t think of right now. I can and do want to be subjected to my wonderful Wonderboy’s dominion, (heh) but for now it’s mostly sex related. It’s not A Male Lead Relationship, it’s A Male Lead Sex Life. The difference is vast, isn’t it?
For me, though, it’s important to feel being in control of some things. Totally in control. I will surrender none of my power in my career, and actually that all has shot trough the roof now that I’ve followed my gut feeling and faced my need to be in this sort of a relationship thing. I’m not struggling so much with everything else. I have no explanations, it’s just an observation. I’m more assertive and sure of myself outside the bedroom now. I get my fair share of being cared for, ordered and loved. I can make decisions about everything else much more easily, because sometimes, lots of times, I get to surrender.
Okay, so, to the subject at hand. We have some protocol in work as we speak. Isn’t it exciting? I know it is for me.
1. I have to ask permission to play with myself.
I failed at this already this week, when I was in a hurry and this incest play (!) we’d done just kept me so revved up I had to do something about it. He was at work and hadn’t answered to my earlier message so I decided (see!) to do it anyway in fear of not getting his word in time. When I told him, he was all mellow and just told me that it happens sometimes. We were cuddling at the time, he was on top of me, and I just kept looking at his eyes, pleading for a punishment. Because if he wouldn’t punish me, what difference would it make? How would I know that it was as important to him as to me that I respected his word over my desire? I knew this was it. Was he going to keep this going, or was this just some game for a short while like before?
And then he slapped me pretty hard four times on the ass and said that I shouldn’t do a thing like that. I should ask him first. Still evolving, still finding the balance. I want him to care. I want him to punish me. I want him to tell me that he owns me and I have no right to tamper with his possession like that. But I guess it’s too soon.
He did make another account for my computer so I could save all the bookmarks and links of porn that get me going. He also uploaded a new comic reader application and created a joint folder for our computers where we can both drop good sexy stuff in. So, it will be our thing, and if either one masturbates, it will still be our thing.
2. I will follow his direct orders.
He’s done it only a couple times, but has always taken his words back, when I’ve asked, Is this really something you want me to do? He’s made some silly ass suggestions, but it is kind of maybe not hot but fun having to face the suggestions and standing my ground. If this is what you command, I will do it. You do realize that? And then he goes all, nah – I’m kidding!
Mostly his commands are good. Once he ordered me to go to bed, because I was so sleepy already, but didn’t want to go to bed yet. I felt so loved, when he did it, and it wasn’t in any way a particular thing. It’s just he took care of me, he noticed me and he evaluated my state and gave an order in accordance to that. That’s the thing with this thing, he has to be vigilant.
3. I can not order him around anymore. At all. I can ask and I can try to persuade, but I can not expect him to yeald to my words.
I have, twice, said No masturbating! when he’s left the room to go do something by himself. And he’s answered with Do you think you can make commands on me? Don’t play with fire girl, I’ll have to punish you otherwise.
But… Knowing me so well he did ask me today, what I’d say, if he’d want to play with himself. He’s sick and on sick leave, so I asked him, if he’s so sick he couldn’t play with me anyway and he answered yes. So of course I said it’d be nice, if he’d play with himself then. But seeing as I was working in the next room and the door was open between us I suggested he tell me, if he starts playing and that way I can let him play in peace.
Later he confessed, angry and frustrated my little feverish boy, that he couldn’t play, because he’s so sick. But he had tried. Without saying anything! He just didn’t want to say anything, because he wasn’t sure, if he could do it. And he couldn’t. This has also been the major reason for him to masturbate and not initiate something with me in the past. I’m mostly always up for a play session or fuck, and sometimes it’s but a dampen on my spirit when I’ve learned that he’s been wanking behind my back even though I fould’ve liked nothing more than to give him a blowjob.
One of the valuable things for us in this new dynamic is that he’s learned that he can always, always initiate play with me. Actually, it’s not so much initiating I guess, because he only commands. Okay now, go and take your clothes off and wait for me in bed. He has also learned that he can be tired, not hard enough, in need of certain stimuli I can’t give – and he’ll still have it all playing with me. Because I am his to command. There’s nothing really he can do by himself that he can’t do with me. Which was proved today.
After swearing he’d definately masturbate after lunch, we sat on the balcony drinking a glass of wine, and he kept looking at my boobs and smiling evily. Wonderboy never looks at my boobs. Never. Except in bed of course. So this is also new entitled behaviour brought forth by our dynamic. I love it. When we got inside he just said plainly Take off your clothes and come to bed. There he made me massage his cock with oil a bit, while he slapped my tits, which he also told me to oil up good, and finger-fucked me. I came, pretty out of the blue, squirted and all, and it was all because he kept slapping my tits so hard.
And because. I hadn’t been at all in the mood and I’d told this to him while having lunch. He knew I didn’t want to have sex. And he decided to get it anyway and commanded me to.
I… I… Yeah. So that’s how it works. For me anyway. And for now.
But then… then. He straddled me and I thought he was going to fuck me with the precum oozing from his cock and entwining us together. But he trew my legs between his and really straddled me. He put my arms so that my tits were up and close together and started to fuck them. And like once before he started to give me lines to deliver.
Beg me to fuck your tits.
And I begged.
I want to come on your face. He’s never done it. He’s said he wants to once or twice the first years, but didn’t do it. Now I knew he was serious, so close to my face, my open mouth and my pretty white skin. I made a scared face to please him. I am a good girl after all. It gave him the kicks I thought it would.
Ask me to come on your face, he demanded.
I did, of course, as I was told. He complied immediately. I just have to gather that it’s insanely hot for him to make me ask for something degrading like that, because this is the second time he’s come on my word.
And he just kept on coming. I could feel five, six ridiculously pouring spurts on my face, running down and flowing over me like nobody’s business. When I though it was safe and opened my eyes, which were also in come, he still kept on going. Damn. So hot.
When he was finally done, (Not finally like that, because I didn’t want it to stop.) I said Hit me. I think of it as begging, not as commanding, but I probably said it like that. He hit me on my face, then on my tits and back on my face again. I felt degraded and I needed to feel more. I needed for him to underline it. I needed to feel not only used but also… not punished but… Forced. I needed it. If he hadn’t hit me, it would’ve been like not giving me an orgasm after he has had his. After the fifth smack on my face, he was truly hitting me harder than before, I came. I squirted all over the bed. He was there, straddling my tummy, and nothing was touching me anywhere near my erogenous zones. I was just… in sub space.
Later I had to ask permission to play a little, because I was reading Kitty Thomas’ Tender mercies* and I just got to the point where Asher contemplates, how he needs to own the woman. There’s something there in owning that just swoons me. I wanted to kneel in front of him when I went to ask, but he was busy doing his own things and I just felt silly about asking him altogether, so I didn’t. But I did ask and he awarded me with this approval in his smile and his kiss. Yes you can. Good of you to ask. Now go and play.
But while making love (I can too call it that!) Wonderboy owned me and marked me and then made me face corporeal punishment to show me he could force me. I loved what he did to me. I didn’t actually want any of it. I would never have written a scene like that, if it was up to me. But it’s his desire and his desire to command me that makes me hot. Evidently even a sick Wonderboy will have sex with me, because he’s getting all his fantasies fullfilled. It’s just too hot to pass up.
In the balcony I remembered, why I hadn’t masturbated in such a long time, he said later, after coming on my face, after slapping me to oblivion. You’re just so hot nowadays. Probably because you’ve bee working out so much. I just can’t keep my hands of you.
I’ve started to wear this little black string around my neck. Like the ones people put silly things like their initials dangling from. It’s what gets his attention. It’s what made him hot in the balcony, and after gazing at it, he started to look at my boobs. It’s a symbol for what we have going on.
It’s symbolic, isn’t it? I asked.
I like symbols, he said.
*Thank you for the recommendation Feministsub! And everybody, if you don’t have a Kindle, you can upload all the ebooks and read them on your browser! This was news to me. Tender mercies cost I think 5 euros and I got to read it right away, although I’m still not finished.