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

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BDSM, Fantasies, Male Lead Relationship stuff, Sex stories, What Women Really Want

Helpless

Helpless. That’s what I want to be. Helpless.

Make sure I know what to do. Plan ahead, make arrangements, prepare everything and show me that you cared, that you thought about it. I want to see the rope on the bed. I need to find the brush and rags, the water bowl with the soap on a little plate on the side on the bathroom tile floor.

Guide me.

Let me know how you feel. Let me feel what you feel. Give me your words.

I am here to serve you. Don’t let me let you down. I need guidance. I need instructions and strict guidelines. What time, where, what, how, with what and why?

I need to know this is what you want. This is important to you. This is exactly what you want.

I need to not worry. I need to know.

You give me good instructions on how to lick your cock. Where, how, when to stop and move on to other things. Treat this as as important. It is to me. Don’t let me let you down. Let me know how to serve you. It is of paramount interest to me.

Do not make this into sex. Do not make this into a light thing, a thing to joke about. I do not joke about your sexual preferences, the way you like me to lick your ass or toy with it. Why are you not seeing my needs as needs? Why is it still this hard?

Why do you not tie me up every day?

Where is the rope now?

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BDSM, Craving for more, Fantasies, Love, Outside the Bedroom, Submissive tendencies

The Big Guns

This has been crazy. Realizing that this is something we both enjoy and need has lead to drastic changes around here. I wish I had time to write about all the sex we’ve had now, because honestly, nothing’s the same. But really, words don’t do it justice. Some readers might think the Best Sex Ever was the same as it ever was, and I can’t argue with that. The change comes from inside. There is no proof.

But talking about kinks, bondage or pain can be one little kink, discipline could be the reason why they fit so well together, like a parent category, but this, this is the mother of all kinks. This is what ties all we need together, this is the sense in all d/s. Everything else, everything leading to this, every impact play or breath play, rape play or bondage seems like a little trick that only tries to catch some meaning, some light. From The Big Guns.

If I really think about it, I have to say that we still have sex with the same kind of power play intact, in the same positions, with most of the same impact plays. Still, the change is drastic. This is an open door for communication. We both feel more free to express what we desire, and also to go after it. And it’s all because we’ve found the base assumption, the power play, the game, the structure for our relationship.

I don’t know what to call it, this new life altering thing I keep referring to. Once again I find the names and labels distasteful, inappropriate or just unapplicable.

He calls me his handmaid. (Yes, it’s an allusion to Margaret Atwood’s Handmaid’s Tale.) Everything I do these days makes him say what a beautiful, good handmaid I’ll make him with some training. The happines is like a viscious loop. I get happy, when I make him happy and he gets happy and remarks on it, which makes me happy. Same goes for sexual experimentation and tension.

In ways we dabble with what is called a male lead relationship or a Taken in hand relationship. In ways I just am his and he mine in a way that encourages a certain dynamic, a power imbalance if you will, in certain actions and reactions.

We’re in no way very good at this. He took me to dinner, but when I ordered lobster, he got anxious, because it’s so expensive at which point I offered to pay for the drinks. The egalitarianism is much more than a thin film of etiquette between us.

I, on the other hand, drove us home, because he doesn’t like driving (and the car is mine) although for me it really is sexy if he drives, because it’s not the norm for us.

I see a pattern here. Because we strive to be equal in every way, and have been brought up to be, it has a certain meaning to us that we act like we aren’t.  It’s a lot taboo and a bit ridiculous and terribly hot. It most certainly is a game, but it’s very close to real, because I honestly want to please my Wonderboy more than anything, and he wants me to surrender to him completely. He also wants and needs to please me. I think this is the thing that many people criticising consented non-consent, which this also is, truly miss. He is trying to fulfill my desires, sometimes by not heeding to my word and sometimes having to use extra effort to make me happy.

If I can say one thing about this week and this weekend, it’s the fact that, if I’m all spent and can’t even muster up a few words here (I’ve been writing this post since Friday) because of my total fatigue, Wonderboy is ten times more out of it. He’s been really busting his balls to be a good dom and an owner. And, boy, has he! I’m so thoroughly played, owned, loved, fucked and mind-fucked that I actually started to cry after sex. Really cry, out loud. And he took care of me and later said that he realized I was overwhelmed and scared, as I was, and he saved me. But I was crying also because I never thought I’d deserve any of this. I’d hidden it so well, the need and the fantasies, I could never have thought that this would come to be reality for me. That I could get everything I ever wanted…

I don’t know, if you can understand how completely overwhelming that is. Wonderboy asked me, if I could’ve imagined us like this a few years back or having these things in the open and playing with them, and I had to confess that I didn’t even accept these needs, let alone think that they could ever be part of a relationship I was in. He said that his fantasies have always been the same, so he’s not as surprised as I am… but this thing about it coming alive… is as overwhelming to him as to me. My fantasies about submitting are still narrated through the dominant side. I fantasise from the male perspective, still, so it’s a lot more shocking to see how it all plays out in reality, when I am actually submitting. And then again. I rarely think about it anymore. I ask for what I want and submit to what I feel is Wonderboy’s will, and I don’t think about what it could mean in a different context, because this is the only context it will ever have.

I’m not sure, if I’m really ready to write about this yet. I don’t yet understand this dynamic, I don’t know how it’ll turn out for us. If we’ll start going more heavy duty and 24/7 or just keep it light and use as we see fit, mostly sexually. I’m sill a bit afraid to even write about it, and I can’t talk about it with anyone. We are just so happy, so extatic, that I feel the need to say something to someone about it. So, I write here even with everything still so fragile and new.

This has changed my life. I have a purpose.

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