This is my list for today:
Take out recycling and garbage.
Clean out frig.
Scrub stovetop and hutch.
scrub bathtub, walls.
creamer, avacodo, smokes, wine
Check school emails
i was working along on my list, having sent it to Sir Raven. i’m tired today and in a strange, uncharacteristic mood. i cleaned and worked up my list from 9-2:30, when i heard the chimes on the door. Startled, i went to take Sir Raven’s coat and get her a class of cranberry juice. i was happy to see her. i’m always happy when she is home, in part because i feel peaceful knowing she is safe in the house and in direct control.
i asked her if i could go take a late nap and she agreed to wake me in an hour so i could continue to charge my cell phone. i had enjoyed talking to Karida, hugging over the phone, and mentally crossing off my list. But now i was tired, had taken my meds late, and needed to nap.
i was frustrated in the dark, cold room. i couldn’t sleep and thought that if i could cum, that might help. i feel like i need to cry and at least having an orgasm is a kind of release. Unfortunately, it eludes me. There are times i can’t climax at all without penetration. My body just won’t do it. It was something trained in with a program that won’t rewrite completely. It’s not really a bad thing because it reminds me that my body isn’t mine.
Sir Raven graciously beat the shit out of me yesterday, stopping before tears, but we were inching close to that territory. She placed a short rod in between my knees and made me hold in i place while the ruthlessly raised welts all over me with her whip. i dropped it only one time. She encouraged me by way of moving my body how she wanted it, replacing the rod, and beating me some more. My inner thighs and ass are her sweet spots, the places she loves to torture the most. i could feel deep bruises forming, and had to breathe deeply as the beating continued. It was a white-knuckle affair, though Sir Raven did offer me a bit of a warm-up, which i declined. She would bark, “hold it” and my body would betray me and do as she said, while one part of me was desperate to move away, to crawl into the wall, to protect my face, my head.
My dispassionate observer remarked on my useless desire to escape, knowing it would never occur to me to even try to leave the bed. i’m here because i need to be, not because i always want it. i will prove this with my body, keeping each new pose, swallowing her dick with reckless abandon, whimpering each time she withdraws. There is a sheer joy in my Master’s voice as she beats me harder and faster, two canes at once, and i still hold my position. “Hold it,” she would demand. Then, she would ramp up the pain, ripping at my nipple, grabbing my up by the collar and dragging me where she wanted me to be. The whip found my tender clit many times, leading me to foolishly believe i might get fucked. Sir Raven doesn’t brutalize me there unless she plans to take what is hers. Today, she is not interested in that pleasure. And there is not one damn thing i can do about that. Emotionally, psychologically, this feels right. Physically, my body begs for release and it’s not something i can do for myself right now. i need what i can’t have.
i remember hearing a long, low, continuous moan and realizing it was me.
i had rode through the pain, in part to hear the pleasure in her voice and she tried to make me drop the rod now in between my knees, giving her easy access to every part of me. “Yes!” she would call out when i held my pose through sheer will.
This is not about me.
Today, my jeans rub welts in many places. Bruises that make me smile. i feel pride, but only the smallest amount. We need more of this so we can get to Bad Daddy. Bad Daddy doesn’t give a fuck how loud i scream, beg, plead, cry. Those are his drugs, his playthings. She has to build up to that. Yesterday felt so good, so right. The last thing i’d ever want to do s to have her think i wasn’t grateful for any attention she gives me.
My body still begs to come and still can’t. i’m frustrated and unable to sleep. i try to talk to Sir Raven, who returns to watching Bones, disinterested. She says i should do the laundry tomorrow and has already noted the rest of my list in complete.
i plod back to the bedroom, put clean sheets on the bed, light candles, and come here to exhale.
There are tears inside, something like anger, but without a name.
There is nothing i can do but be pleasant, accommodating, cheerful.
i hold it til i think i might burst. i tell her i forget she wants me, loves fucking me, thinks i’m beautiful.
She sends me off to her bed, alone.