BDSM, Coming out, Sex stories, Submissive tendencies, Wonderboy

It might be hard to believe but tonight I called him daddy. It’s obviously been a while since we fucked, even a longer while still when he tied me to the upper cupboards with rope and fucked me from behind after beating me. I was standing still on very, very high red heels. At least I was until my knees buckled. It didn’t take very long for him to come, and the experience that I’d been praying for for so long didn’t leave my mind after it was over, either.

Tonight was the night. I’d had a huge success at work which was in no way dimmed by the fact that it felt like I miscarried yesterday. Today I was more than fine, I was in epic condition. I’d like for someone to make some sort of a research on women going through miscarriages. I bet I’m not the only one who picks up right after, harder than ever, because it’s easier than to stay still. Everything is easier than staying still.

After Wonderboy had eaten I danced in to the bedroom, and quirkily poked my head into the living room where he was sitting. I just hummed and smiled to him and went to bed. He got the hint so quickly I didn’t have to say anything. He undressed at the foot of the bed, but didn’t lie down.

I have to go to the bathroom first, he said.

I heard the shower and I knew it was business time. 

We started with cuddling and kissing, caressing hair, cheeks, kissing the neck, the lips, the nose, the forehead. But it didn’t quite escalate. He pulled me on top of him, the thing he does when he’s feeling uncertain and vulnerable.

What you wanna do now? I asked.

What do you want to to do? he asked me back.

I paused to think. There were certain ideas flying in my head, teasing my skin already.

I want you to dominate me. I paused for a moment still, looking into his eyes. If you feel like it.

And he did. But of course he didn’t show it to me yet. Finally when he pulled me from my hair and held my nipple in a torturous pinch he said,

I’m going to dominate you now.

Yes.

He let his hand wander down my neck and the other down my throat. Suddenly I realized I was held captive and choked gently but firmly between his hands. I was all his to keep and to play with.

And I don’t care what you feel. I’m going to use you.

He did things to me then that made me move away in shock, but I couldn’t. He was holding me by the hair.

Lick my cock, you slut, he ordered, but I didn’t just lick it. I deepthroated it. He had to position me again on all fours to get his cock in more, deeper, and he did. I let the saliva and precum flow past my lips into his hairs on his cock and on the sheets.

That feels so good, so damn good, he murmured over and over again until he had to lift my head from the hair hastily so as not to come already.

He tossed me away rolling right on top of me seamlessly.

That was really hot, he said. I was really turned on by that, he said all the while sliding his slick cock against my pussy.

He pushed his cock inside. It hurt a bit and I said ouch, but he didn’t care. He kept pounding me, straight away with vigor. That was all I needed. I grinded my face against the spiky stubble of his cheeks. He voiced his pleasure. He hit me in the face a couple times more startling me than delivering pain.

Call me daddy, he said suddenly while holding my wrists.

I have never played into it like that. I have never given up on myself like that. But I did now.

Oh daddy, I love the way that feels like, my voice was cut in peaces because of his pounding. Then my voice was lost to lost and to emotions, then it came back again.

Daddy, please touch my tits, please daddy. Daddy please don’t, oh daddy, oh, oh, oh…

It felt so good to freely commit to it for once. To admit it turned us both on so much. There was finally no voyer inside me looking over my shoulder and analyzing what he was feeling. There were no fucks given to what if he’s secretly laughing at me. And he wasn’t. And we both came so loud and so intensely – not at the same time though – that it was very clear what we need. Just a little dominating. Just a little submission. Just a little play.

Just A Little Play With Daddy

Aside
BDSM, Male Lead Relationship stuff, Submissive tendencies, Wonderboy

In Light of the Eight Steps

I have calmed down from my previous post. I’ve had the whole day to think. I have also talked with the Champagne Lady, not about the suggestion obivously, but remembering her in a real way brought also real relief. We are planning on a 50’s coctail party with design dresses and hard curls, artichoke appetizer soup and champagne – but of course.

1. I feel a lot better.

2. I remember that Wonderboy loves me and doesn’t want to be with anyone else. Or even fuck anyone else.

3. I try to keep in mind that it’s difficult to bring your fantasies and kinks up, and it doesn’t help if your lover freaks the fuck out and straight on goes into you don’t really love me then mode.

4. I appreaciate that Wonderboy thought about incorporating me into his fantasy. We did talk that he’d have permission to spank someone, but it was not expressed that I should be present. This is his way of saying he wants me to be okay with it and see how innocent it really is.

5. He is able and willing to negotiate about his desires – even to wait 10 years, if he has to. He’s not going to push something like this on me forcefully. Neither is he going to straight out leave me, if I don’t want to do the things of his fantasies.

6. I brought him to an orgasm yesterday with only my hands and mouth that made him lose all control and almost topple over me from where he was standing. He never loses control. Ever. He also farted because of the magnitude of the orgasm. How many times has he farted in front of me while having sex previously? None! I feel it speaks about the bond between us getting stronger since he can let go like that.

7. He had his way with me on a day I said I didn’t want sex at all. And we were both absurdly happy after, even though I never orgasmed.

8. It’s getting better. I can see it. I just have to remember where I stand.

Also, incidently, I bought Lily’s book and it is nerve calming as hell to read her humorous and down to earth writing about just these troubles. Although I expect never to be in her leathers so to speak, since I don’t count myself as poly in any way.

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BDSM, Love, Sex stories, Submissive tendencies, Wonderboy

A small treat

I want to post this small treat, because I know you guys are having your hearts broken as well, because of what’s happening to us. It’s not all tears, even now. It never is.

After the miscarriage, for some unfathomable reason, I’ve been horny as hell. Wonderboy’s been really careful and understanding… but one night he just turned me on my tummy and started to fuck me. We had been kissing and I’d made my womanly needs known somewhere in there, so it was not like there hadn’t been communication. There had, just without words.

(And here’s where I differ from the mighty Cliff Pervocracy in my views on communicating consent, desire and need. I agree on the whole that communication is key, and I sometimes struggle to communicate what I really want right now, but the  playing ground is set for us in this partnership. I don’t need to establish all of that every time. It’s a great post by the way, and you should definately read it.)

There wasn’t much of foreplay as I recall. There was just a lot of strangling and pushing his hand on my face. I love it more than anything, but I’ve been mortified to accept, how important it really is to me, because it seems so silly. I’m happy Wonderboy is not easily fooled, when it comes to my reactions, so he knows, how it affects me. And he used just that knowledge to tip me to the sweet sub space I long for.

It was perfect.

Something’s changed, because of the hormones or because I’m not taking them anymore, but I’m wet and slimy as something coming out of the sea. My body is responsive once again. He gruntles You’re so tight a lot these days. And I sigh out of happiness and fulfilment, because I feel right again.

It’s hard for me to have an orgasm, while he’s on my back. I’m so tight it usually hurts too much, and anatomically I think, it’s not the best position for me. He wasn’t doing much of anything really, not hitting me or hurting me. But he did force me to rise a bit to kiss him, and he bit my lips and we kissed, and he fucked me hard all the while we were doing it.

And then he put his hand on my head. It was weaving through the hair and I expected him to tug my hair, because that’s what he mostly does. But he didn’t. He found my neck and pushed me to the mattress. It was quick. It came unannounced. I didn’t need anything more. He was guiding me through. He was holding me and he was forcing me. He had me.

Suddenly his cock felt too big, my pussy felt too tight, so tight around it. I came. I pulsed and gulped the air my mouth against the mattress. He kept fucking me, but came shortly after. I have no clear recollection of how. But I came with him again. How could I not? He was pulsing inside me, filling me, grabbing me with all his strenght, raising us both from the bed to be even closer.

Did you come twice? he asked me after, when we were lying there naked and breathless.

Yeah, I answered and kissed his hairy chest and his face, what I could reach of it.

He smiled. I knew what he was thinking. Just like old times. Just like it used to be. I came from him fucking me and dominating me. It just makes him so happy to fulfil me.

He always asks, even when I don’t write it in here, Did you have a nice time? Sometimes he asks twice, because he forgets that I already said yes. He didn’t fail to ask this time, either. Having two orgasms means nothing. He needs to know, how I feel about what happened. (Just as the awesome Clarisse Thorn says: orgasm is not consent.)

I feel perfect so I say so and ask him in return.

Hit the shower? he asks.

In a minute, I say and bear hug him.

I don’t want to let go just yet. He laughs a little. It’s no small treat in the midst of what we’re going through. To be happy like this and to stay with it.

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Hurting, Love, Male Lead Relationship stuff, Pregnancy, Submissive tendencies, What Women Really Want, Wonderboy

He stays with me

I woke up in a pool of blood. It was saturday morning, still too early for the sun even to be hot yet. Distant pain was trying to seep in, but what I woke up to was the wetness. I rose from the bed my legs and tummy covered in blood and instinctively headed for the shower before I could think. I spent another half an hour sitting in the shower trying to win the pain over. Same on sunday. I feel like puking every other minute, I’m breathless and exhausted. Maybe it’s from the loss of blood? I don’t know.

I went to this picnic on saturday, because I was organizing a thing before it and had to go. It was a very hazardous thing to do while still bleeding and feeling utterly exhausted and mentally beaten. There was this friend of a friend, who I found out was visibly pregnant at the spot. I survived pretty well until people started talking about it. Especially this one woman, who was talking about how she has never wanted kids, but isn’t it time they should, because they’ve been together so long… You know the drill. Hearing her treat it as such a self-evidently easy thing to achieve was exhausting. So was the way she was talking about the pregnancy of the friend there. How happy and excited she was for her friends baby.

I had to leave. I made up an excuse about work and left. Just like that. That’s something, right? That I can protect myself like that?

I called Wonderboy from the way home.

Did you get tired? he asked compassionately.

No, I got sad, I answered.

Come home and I will cuddle with you, he said. It was the perfect answer.

It was real work keeping the tears inside, which I mostly managed, throught the bus ride home. When I got home Wonderboy came to hug me straight away. He didn’t try to evade me or make me laugh. He just took me to bed to cuddle.

I cried a long time.

It’s just so painful to feel it going away, I said.

He hugged me.

I know, he said in a tender voice.

What if I’ll never be able to carry any children, I confess my fear, yet again.

It doesn’t matter, he says and holds me.

He caresses my head, blows hairs out of my face and just holds me against him.

At one point in this story this would’ve been an insult. I would’ve wanted to fight, to say it does matter to me! To shout, to kick, to state how I will have kids one way or the other…

But I felt huge relief. I felt his strenght shield me. I was pushing against those words, for a second, and then I let go. I let them in. It doesn’t matter. If my owner says it doesn’t matter, then it doesn’t. He knows best. He will take care of everything. He will be strong where I am weak.

And also. It doesn’t matter to him. It’s never been a relief before. But it is now. If I can’t have children… I don’t need to worry about losing him. He won’t abandon me to have biological children with someone else. He will be right here, holding me through it.

He stays with me through the pain.

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BDSM, Hyper-Sexual, Learning to negotiate, Love, Male Lead Relationship stuff, Sex stories, Submissive tendencies, Wonderboy

Happy submissive orgasms for everyone!

It was thursday, the day I stopped taking the hormones. Well, guess how long it took for me to start dragging heavy breaths in near Wonderboy? Guess how long it took that I started to desire his touch, smell him, taste him, feel desire in my body as it came alive just because I was close to him?

Two days.

I can’t even begin to explain (but I still will!) how it feels to be out of the deathly grip of estrogen tampering. I feel so much alive. I’d forgotten how it feels to be sensual. Well, almost, because if I really had, I wouldn’t have been depressed about being deprived of it. But you know, sensuality is so much more than the word sounds like. With the hormones I felt that my senses were dulled or even nulled totally. Kissing didn’t really give me pleasure at all. Neither did smelling Wonderboy or giving him pleasure or gentle touch on me. Or playing with power dynamics.

We went at it first on saturday, because friday Wonderboy was too tired. Or teasing me, because he’s such a tease and he hasn’t been able to express it, because my sex drive has been nullified. It was incredible just to kiss him. I felt so much more. I had forgotten, how it felt to become alive all around while kissing, just kissing him!

There was a moment where we had to pause. I confessed that I felt a little scared and he held me – and then we kept going. There was also a moment in which I was on top of him and it just didn’t feel that good. Maybe because I was scared, maybe because of other things. So I said that I didn’t feel that good and we stopped for a minute. This is a phenomenal accomplishment of me. Communicating about negative feelings and things that don’t work in a sexual situation. And I did it even after the long dry spell!

He started to lick me, because honestly, that’s been the only thing working for me with the estrogel hell. Well, it didn’t work no mo’. For a while I endured (yeah, really) and then I asked him to come up and cuddle with me a bit. And after we talked about it, and I started to feel less afraid, we kept going and it was wonderful.

I writhed on top of him out of my mind and as I fell into the black oblivion, drooling all over him, convulsing, it flashed in my mind. This is the way it has been before. It was just so far away from what I’d felt with the hormones. And after the orgasm on his cock, on him, with my drooling manic act, I truly realized why Wonderboy had been ambivalent about my orgasms and even suggested that I wasn’t really having any. The difference was so phenomenal, how could he not notice. How could he not feel something was missing, when I was missing!

And today… He fucked me, which still feels kind of violent, because of the things the hormones did to my physics. But then he stopped, when he saw that I was missing something and asked, if he’d go down on me. And my answer was immediate.

No, but could you dominate me a bit.

I had asked him to order me around when we were getting warmed up, but he had confessed that he felt scared to do it out of the cold like that, when I’d been so dull to it for so long. He did order me around a bit, though, and it made me happy. And after I asked for more…

He spit on my face. He slapped my face, over and over again. He suffocated me a bit. Hit my tits. Held my face by the jaw, the way I like – like I’m a dog of his and he’s teaching me who’s the boss. He told me he likes to hurt me. And he fucked me so hard it hurt.

When all this sunk in. When I felt it, the sweet oblivion building up from inside me, swallowing me, tears welled in my eyes, because of the catharsis, of the love, of being owned and hurt like that. But I could feel his boner getting a bit droopier inside me. He lowered himself to kiss me and asked, are you getting scared?

I was so happy he asked.

No, I’m just scared enough, I answered. I like it when you hurt me, I added in a voice he could barely hear.

It all ended in a mutual orgasm and sweaty bodies. But somehow I know we could’ve handled any other outcome too.

Now Wonderboy’s in the other room playing by himself, as I did earlier today too. He came up to me to tell me and to get an empathetic answer and reassurence I wouldn’t blow up about it later on. I hugged him and told him it would be wonderful, if he’d play a little and that I’m here for reassurence and sexual exploit, if he needs any.

I think I just want reassurence, he said.

Then he hugged me and happily closed himself in the other room.

It’s just so incredible. This in exhange for what I had less than a week ago. No wonder I felt my life was empty. This makes me think really hard on the fact that I was on hormonal birth control for over 10 years, which is not entirely unlike what I was on now. I just wonder, if I’d discovered my sexual submissiveness earlier without any hormones what so ever…

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BDSM, Coming out, embracing pain, Learning to negotiate, Love, Male Lead Relationship stuff, Pregnancy, Sex stories, Submissive tendencies, Volatile bodies, What Women Really Want, Wonderboy

Here

(I’m on a roll here! Must be the sun.)

When I met the women, who are also suffering from infertility, the subject of sex came up. Everyone noted, how they hated doing it, didn’t feel like it, how their husbands or boyfriends had commented, how they’d like their spouses back. And while I nodded and agreed, because honestly, it hasn’t really been a piece of cake for us either, I realized something. When one of the women said that her husband had thrown in the towel, when she just lay there and said do something, I recogniced the situation. But with us it ended up in negotiation. We established that we’d need to fuck – he’d need to come that is – and that I was perhaps not in the best place to play. So, we deciced to make that into the play.

Why won’t you just rape me? Just use me.

This is exactly what I did this Thursday too. When Wonderboy put his cock in me, it just hurt. I couldn’t make the pain into anything, I couldn’t use it to feel used or his slave. It was just too pure, the discomfort. He wasn’t actually hurting me, but my insides were so different, dry and unreceptive, that I didn’t enjoy at all.

He stopped after a while, after flipping me over and fucking me from behind, which didn’t help either.

Something’s not right. This doesn’t feel right somehow, he said.

I cuddled with him and it took a little while for me to be able to just say the words. But I did.

I wanted to be up for it, I really did. I just didn’t. It just felt uncomfortable, and it hurt a bit. There were nice bits too. Just. Not as much as normally. I think it’s the hormones. 

I think that maybe you should be more rough. Hurt me more. I think that would help, since I can’t feel that much down there right now.

Wonderboy looked serious. He didn’t say anything, but I could see he was processing. Maybe he didn’t want to hurt me today? Maybe he didn’t want to be rough with me being so fragile all of a sudden.

But you don’t have to. I just might help, I kept mumbling, when he seemed to make up his own.

Okay. Why don’t you go on down and lick me a little, he asked, but it wasn’t a question.

I did and I don’t know. Something happened when I was down there. I…

Does it happen to you that sometimes, when you’re obeying your master’s or top’s orders you just go limp? Like, I was still there, in my mind I was questioning what was happening. I had a thousand analyzes and a thousand hypothesisis about it even while feeling it. But. My head just lulled. My hand just stopped moving. Wonderboy took me by the scruff of the neck and held my head, pushed it against his cock. My eyes fluttered, it was almost impossible to keep them open. I did actively keep my mouth open for his cock, not to hurt it, but it seemed like all other control over my body had disappeared.

He pushed my head deep down and kept it there, kept me by the hair, so strong he was. And then I’d choke and cough slime over him and on the mattress and my head would fall down on the mattress and he’d let me breath in a little, cough a little slime out and then pick me back up and push me back in. I could feel his cock growing, his sense of owning me, totally, my vulnerable state penetrating him with responsibility and opportunity to do as he will. I would start gagging, but not move, not breath, not make a sound. Just gag and gag until he’d let my head go, let me cough and throw up the precum and saliva that had clogged my throat.

It was… It was perfect.

This might sound weird, but I was so let alone. I was let to have my own experience, my private fantasy experience. I’ve never had that. Not together. Not like this. There was nothing I was actually able to do for him. I was in no way trying or even able to take him into consideration. I was just pure need. I wanted for him to suffocate me with his cock. When I’d gagged many times, he did what any considerate lover would do. He wouldn’t push my head so deep anymore. He’d let me breath more. But I didn’t want to breath. I didn’ want to be treated nicely, gently. I wanted to be suffocated, used, completely at his mercy, at the mercy of his hands and his perceptiveness. I pushed my face down a little, of my own will, and he’d steel up, he’d change with me, become my owner and my master. Because I was so far gone. I couldn’t control my body, hold me head high or move my hands. But I was his fucktoy. I was all he needed. And he was all I needed.

He soon flipped me over, but it was harded than usual, because I didn’t help. My body was at his mercy and he had to work to get it flip over nicely, the way he wanted. He fucked me, then, and told things to me and held my head. He’d hold my hands by the wrists so tight it hurt and he’d fuck me so hard it hurt. He wouldn’t let me… not even a little. He was there.

Don’t whine.

Don’t you whine, whore.

And I was so out of my mind. I faught him a little, seriously, I tried, I really tried. I never do. And I couldn’t get out from under him. He just looked at me, spit on my face.

You’re nothing. I’m just gonna use you. I can do anything I want to you. You’re mine.

I answered some things, I think. And then I came. And then he fucked me harder. And then he slapped me and hurt me and twisted me by the hair. And he came so hard and I came with him, again.

After it was over, I whimpered. He pulled me against him and I just whimpered and shivered, kept gasping for air. It wouldn’t die down. I tried to caress his back a little, look up to him and smile to tell him what I was feeling. But he knew. I could hear his gentle and loving aaaaw baby, when I trembled again and let out a whine. He finally pulled me up to him, put my head on a pillow next to his and hugged me. And then he said, I’m just going to go to sleep.

And I said, won’t you brush your teeth first? but you almost couldn’t hear the words, they came from a different mouth, hoarse and carried by the wind.

I’m too tired for that, he said.

A sudden fear grabbed my heart. Was he falling asleep already, leaving me alone like this?

I’m not ready yet, I said and he hugged my tighter to show me he was there. He held me until I felt I could move, and then I rose to my feet, brushed my teeth… and spent the next 4 hours trying to sleep, but being too… something to do so.

I thought about this today, when I thought about how the other ladies talked about sex. And I realized, how hard it would be, if there was nothing new to discover. No catharsis to experience. No negotiation skills long ago learned and honed. Because there was a pause here, one that would’ve ended differently before. Something’s not right. But I could tell him what I needed this time. I could ask for it, but not expect it. I could say it without blaming him or taking blame myself that there needed to be a pause. And he could hear it and do it his way. Mold it into what he wanted to do.

They don’t have that. They only have the infertility, the seriousness, the treatments and the calender. The have no play in which to fall.

My therapist asked me: Where do you get your power?

And I think. Here.

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BDSM, Hyper-Sexual, Learning to negotiate, Love, Male Lead Relationship stuff, Sex stories, Submissive tendencies, What Women Really Want, Wonderboy

Happiness and feeling equal and not ashamed of what you want can do this to people

Being really sick has been eye opening as hell. In a good way. First Wonderboy had a really bad influenza for a whole week and stayed at home because of that. Then I got the same damn thing and I’m still in recovery.

With Wonderboy home we got time to mend our relationship. We’d spent the weeks leading to the sickness discussing our infertility and other personal issues in depth. It had been really important to me, but Wonderboy thought it was just wallowing.

You could probably see that I was pretty frustrated with our relationship and it culminated in me complaining about how Wonderboy takes part in housework? I believe that this is because of my therapy. I’ve begun to see, how I step over myself almost instinctively, which is stupid, because then the people I do stuff for don’t even realize I’m doing stuff for them.

I have a small but significant example from yesterday. Wonderboy had ordered us pizzas. This happens like once every three months. We were lying on the bed with his laptop ready to bust some myths (you know what show I’m talking about) and pizza boxes on our laps. Suddenly Wonderboy realized he wanted to add this chili ketchup on his (also seen in the Big Bang theory episodes!). Since he was holding the laptop he just assumed that when he’d say he wanted it, I’d jump up and get it. These kind of situations just open my eyes so much, because now I have no trouble drawing the line. I didn’t want the kethcup. There was really no reason that I should get it. Except the fact that I’ve been completely and utterly too nice my entire life and done things like that, because I’ve put other people’s situations, emotions and whatnot before my own. I didn’t have that trouble now!

Great idea, I said.

He gestured to the laptop in his lap.

Why don’t you get it? he said.

No! I laughed out. It was so clear. There was no doubt in my mind or my voice. It’s such a small but important thing. Why would I compromise my comfortability to get him something while he did nothing? It boggles the mind that I used to do this. What is also important, this being a d/s blog and partnership in some respects, is that I would totally do this, if it was a d/s thang. But it’s not as evidenced by his behaviour. I feel this attitude of his – and mine of course, I am also to blame for carrying the weight – impaires our d/s dynamic. What effectively changes, when he orders me, if I’d do it anyway?

I’ve actually been using this in a way to lure him to order me around. When he would ask me to give him the milk from the fridge, I’d just say no. He would ask nicely again and I would still say no. Then I’d add smiling, There’s one way you haven’t tried yet. He’d get it and command me to get the milk, smiling, and we’d both be a little happier for it. The small things. They just make the umph.

This can’t happen in the setting we’re set out for ourselves. For his dominance to be meaningful in our relationship – because I’m not trying to say that people can’t do these things differently – we need to be equal and feel equally responsible and cared for.

It all comes back to our sex life that has been through a shredder recently. This inequality and my eyes opening about it has had some serious consequences on our sex life. How could it not, when everything we love has so much to do with power play? I even uttered the words I thought I’d never hear from my cock loving lips: I don’t want to give you blowjobs for a while. Wonderboy tried to make fun of what I said by saying: Okay. So you will never, ever again give me a blowjob. Get used to it, he added mimicing my stern voice.

No, I just don’t want to give them right now.

And then we discussed what had happened, when I’d asked him to lick me and he didn’t. I said I felt that there was no way for me to communicate my needs, because while we were having sex, he just wouldn’t oblige because of the d/s. And when I brought the things I wanted and needed up later on, he would chastise me for not asking for them while we were sexy. Now I had the opportunity to show him, how I actually did ask for things I needed, but he wouldn’t oblige. And how that had actively harmed our sex life in the past, because I’d just given up on trying to get what I needed, if he wasn’t magically doing it right all along.

Then I politely asked him to think of ways I could communicate that I really mean what I say and really need those things, because there wasn’t one in my opinnion. This lead to him realizing the same thing and seeing my situation for the first time as it is. It’s not just my fault, it’s a problem with communication. So, effectively, also his problem. He suggested that I’d try the way of appealing to him.

Maybe if you’d say “if I’m good enough, will you do this thing for me? I am a really good girl, aren’t I?”

So, by incorporating it to our play, I could tell him that I really wanted something. This seemed like a good idea. Instinctively I used it yesterday, a couple weeks after the conversation.

He had lifted me on top of him and demanded that I grind myself against him in just the right way. He enjoys playing with my tits and especially licking and sucking on my nipples while we fuck with me on the top. I can’t actually feel much in the way of his tongue’s magic touch in the heat of the moment, and yesterday was the first time ever, I could utter the words: Bite them. Please? Pretty please. I could see him hesitate for a nanosecond before I added the very girly and innocent please. That was just what had happened before. How his brain works. He almost didn’t, because he’s in charge. But then when he did, he bit me like he wanted to. Viciously. I came instantly. It was ridicilous really, but also pretty nice to prove the point of d/s being a two way street. He could see straight away how hearing me affected me.

Sometimes even a submissive knows exactly what they want and it can be imperative to fulfill those needs. I am not a machine and even though I enjoy the submissive role thoroughly, there’s also the very real, corporeal (heh) responses and needs that just can’t be walked over.

So, anyway. Baby steps maybe, but things are improving how ever slightly or slowly. Wonderboy’s been washing the laundry like there’s no tomorrow and doing chores he never used to. (And I never realized!) He’s also begun to talk about his anxieties in a lot more open way, and so have I!

Wonderboy just called to let me know that he’s heading back home from work. He’s still sick. Funnily enough this is almost good news. We get a little vacation with us both home sick. There’s been a lot more sex now that he’s home all the time. A lot more honest talk about wanting it too. And I? Well, my engine’s been running like crazy and I’ve been having orgasms alone and with him many a time every day. I just don’t feel guilty about it anymore. As I don’t feel guilty about not fantasizing about him, if he’s going down on me or while masturbating.I don’t feel guilty for wanting him to do things for me that might be uncomfortable for him or that he might actually not enjoy doing. I’m not worried about that anymore.

This, my new un-worrisome attitude, realized in me having three or was it four orgasms last night while we fucked. One was for him biting my nipples while I was riding him. One was from him dominating me with his eyes and overpowering me with his hand in my hair, hard, unforgivable. I just felt hot waves and shivers run through my scalp, back and ass, when I fell and fell in to the submission, in his rough hands. He spanked my ass and unlike recently I was able to fully take the hits, enjoy the pain that went through me like a wave of electricity. I made a small whining noise that wouldn’t stop. I was his little pet, waiting for it, not wanting it, craving for it. One, I think, was from him fucking me really fucking hard and explaining how he really didn’t give a fuck if I enjoyed or not. His eyes. His eyes locked on mine. His lips. Parted so enticingly. My submission was so overwhelming that after the sex was over and we were done, laughing and hugging and tangling on the bed, he took me by my hair, pushed me against his chest and shook me from my hair. I came once more.

Happiness and feeling equal and not ashamed of what you want and enjoy can do that to people.

Also. I have found Rocco Siffredi. ❤ This guy moans and boy do I love the way he dominates those chics. I just wish the chics could be a little less noisy.

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