Friday, January 24, 2014

Internal experiences, external actions

His hand pushes on the back of my head, forcing it forward and away from him, exposing the back of my neck to him. He rubs the soft bristles of his beard against me there, a thousand tiny points of sensation, and I gasp loudly.

"You like that, girl?" he asks, pushing harder on my head, rubbing his beard against me while I feel myself melting. He moves his chin over to the tender curve between my neck and shoulder, and I inhale sharply as sensation overtakes me. I can't say which thing I love more - the hand pressing possessively yet almost dismissively against my head, or the sensations his beard is awakening across my body. Goosebumps rise up all over me and I moan.



"You're my fuck toy," he growls. "I could be fucking you right now if I wanted. I could turn you over and fuck that pretty face if I wanted. Maybe I do want to." He pulls me over to face him and I scoot down until I'm level with his cock. He drags my pillow down to support my head, which indicates I should plan on being there for a while. Still, I'm grateful for the support, because without it my jaw would start aching very soon. Holding my head up sideways with my mouth open wide will do it every time.

I open my mouth and slowly suck him in, swirling my tongue over the head and sucking hard, pulling his cock past my tongue with the suction. He gasps - he seems to love it when I do that, and I love making him gasp.

"Such a good, pretty fuckhole," he murmurs. I groan as his words sink in. I do like it when he talks to me like that.



It's later. I'm mindlessly sucking, lengthening my body out behind me so my throat is a straight line, pushing my feet against the wall to drive my throat onto his cock, gagging, my body covered with goosebumps at the invasion. He's told me that I "should" stop, multiple times, but not actually told me to stop. I don't stop until I'm told. He knows this.

"Didn't I tell you to stop, girl?" he asks.

"Nn-nn," I manage, through my mouth full of cock.

"Huh. I keep saying 'should.' Like I don't want you to stop at all. Imagine that."

There are a few moments when I've thought he would come down my throat. But he seems to be holding back from that. For some reason.

"I think you like sucking cock," he says as I gag myself on him again, shoving until he fills my throat and I can't breathe. My chest heaves for air and I pull away to breathe, then go right back again.

He says that a lot. Truth be told, I just like pleasing him. This seems to be his favorite way to be pleased, so yeah, I like it. But not for the reasons he seems to think.



Finally, he tells me to stop. "Okay, girl, stop. Really." He pulls away, withdraws his cock from the warm fuckhole that is my mouth.

"Turn over," he says. He intends to fuck me from behind.

I do, but I feel an immense sadness and separation. I want to cry. I feel. . . bereft, unloved, like the fuck toy he's so often called me and I usually relish being, but disconnected from any emotion. An actual object, now. His fingers are probing my folds, and having trouble finding wetness, though it's there. I have a brief moment of panic that maybe it's not. It hasn't started seeping out. Maybe this is one of those non-concordant arousal moments.

He groans when his fingers find the natural lubrication that was there all along, and I sigh with relief. He slides a finger in, then presses his cock against me.

"You want this cock in you, girl?" he asks.

I want this to happen. I don't know if  I want it like this. But that doesn't actually matter, because it's what he wants and doing what he wants is my kink. So yeah, sure, I want it. I'm thinking too much though.

His cock slides into me; it feels big and invasive but beyond the stretching and the feeling of being owned I have when he penetrates me, there's not much there. He's not touching my clit, his hand is on my hip, pulling me against him, and I try to empty my mind. "I'm a fuck toy, just a fuck toy," I keep chanting inside my head. It's not working. I can't shut it off.

"That feels good," he groans as he sinks fully into me.

I suppose it does feel nice. But after the intensity and the extreme personal space invading of having his cock jammed down my throat, having my actual breath taken away, I'm somewhere else. This is too impersonal. I'm not sure what I was expecting. I think he's saying stuff, but his hand keeps moving over my ear, rubbing the side of my face but also creating an incredibly loud noise, and I can't hear him. This reduces my enjoyment probably by about one third, but I don't move to stop him because it's what he wants.

"This is hot," I tell myself. "He's enjoying you," I tell myself. That makes it better. I think maybe it will be even better if I fuck him instead of just letting him fuck me, so when he grabs me and moves me on his cock, I don't stop when he lets go. I keep moving. It gets even easier when he grabs my leg and pulls it backward over his hip. I brace my foot on the bed behind him and move on his cock. Yeah, the tension in my legs makes it better. But his finger finds my clit, then, and my head starts to spin.

This is better, but he's not saying much, just making happy noises. I can't feel properly if I don't focus on something. So I let a very very naughty fantasy spin off in my head, and it only takes a second before I feel the pulses of orgasm come over me, as I move myself on his cock.

I relax, the tension floods out of me, and we move together, my thoughts on his pleasure, until he comes.



He won't let me pull away, after. I'm basically on my back at this point with my legs splayed open over him.

"I'm not done with you," he says, "but you can turn over if you like."

So I do, but something happens and he's on top of me, my legs around him, while his fingers drive me to a very very happy place. I'm screaming and then I'm just breathing, and he's atop me and my legs are wrapped around him. It's wonderful, and it feels like love and peace and contentment and I don't know why it took so long to get here but it's fantastic, spectacular, and I never want him to stop touching me.

We doze like that, for a long, long time. When he moves off me, he pulls me into his arms and we finally sleep.



I analyze this, after the fact, and I think I should probably speak up a bit more. I think the sex that he had was much, much different from the sex that I had. We don't have his account of things to go on though.

But in subspace, no one can hear me scream. Or cry, or mourn, or need.  Because in subspace, I won't do any of that, except in pleasure.

12 comments:

  1. This is interesting. Why did him leaving your mouth and doing you from behind cause this feeling of objectification? Does that always happen in that position?

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    1. No. It's actually one of our favorites, because it leaves his hands open to do all manner of things to me. I just felt like someone'd severed my strings, or something.

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    2. Ok, so it wasn't the activity or how he was doing it, it was just the particular mood you were in at the time for whatever reason?

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  2. ooooh, gosh. interesting indeed, but also ((((hugs))))

    'what he wants and doing what he wants is my kink'
    I so get this! my husband is very orientated with what I want and what I like that used to throw me off a bit, now it works for me because ultimately, that is what he wants and requires - me to be pleased, to be wanting it as well as just submitting to it.

    ' I'm thinking too much though.'
    ah. yes. I get this too. I SO get this.

    I also hear your difficulty in speaking up - I find often find it really hard to talk. I struggle to answer when he questions me (which he does, often) and as for spontaneously speaking up and asking for something - almost impossible!

    I do find, when this kind of thing happens for me during sex that often it's due to issues out side of the sex - I'm generally run down, or over tired, or stressed about something. Just mentioning it as something to cross off your list, if nothing else xx

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    1. Yeah, that's my guy too. He's very much into making sure I'm enjoying myself.

      I WAS utterly, thoroughly, and completely exhausted. I'd even fallen asleep at the table after I got dinner served and sat down.

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    2. You see, now that wouldn't work with Master and me. If he needed/required me to be pleased in order for him to be pleased, he'd never be pleased, because requiring me to be pleased would make it impossible for me to be pleased.

      This is why I don't like it when he tells me to have an orgasm, because it makes it impossible for me to have one. He really has to go about things as if he doesn't care if I'm enjoying it. That's the way I most enjoy it with him.

      It wouldn't necessarily be that way with a different man if he put my pleasure as a priority and was willing to do whatever was necessary to pleasure me, but with Master, who has his pleasure as a much bigger priority, it needs to be the way it is between us for it to work, because him occasionally throwing me a carrot isn't going to give me an orgasm. It just puts pressure on me and also throws me out of my "my purpose is Master's pleasure" mindset.

      I hope that wasn't confusing. lol.

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  3. 'Because in subspace, I won't do any of that, except in pleasure'.
    Got it. When your not there- you not THERE.

    I agree with McKitten, my outside the bedroom feelings follow me. And, the track in my mind can be deafening when I am feeling off/stressed.

    I think I am in need of a terrific spanking because I kept picturing myself in your spot and my mind returns to how much it would help to pull me into the mood right quick!!

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  4. This was an amazing description. I've been there before, more than once and it's almost impossible to explain or describe and it's extremely confusing.
    In my case it wasn't between two different sexual events. It just happened in the middle of sex with the bf. It's as if what you feel and what you want are clashing. It's hard to turn it around too. Trying to get some control helps, trying to fantasize does too, but ultimately your mental wavelength is in a funk. I don't think it's just a D/s thing since in my relationship there is absolutely nothing of that unfortunately, but I think it has more to do with a conflicting state of mind. Your body is saying no while your mind is saying yes (or vice versa), so your feelings just get overwhelmed and confused.
    It likely has to do with outside factors as well, as Mc Kitten says. But ultimately I think it's a deep-seated sentiment that needs to be addressed. Just something that you/we emotionally need to work through about what was going on. It's something we need to concentrate on and figure out what it is that triggered it exactly and try to understand our emotional panic about it. It may not be possible or easy, but it's worth a try.

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  5. This was an interesting read, Conina. I have to say, from the Dom side, I have a hard time relating--I have to be into whatever Joy and I are doing almost by definition. But I know that sometimes Joy feels the way you describe as well. For the record, I absolutely hate it when this happens. I want her mind and self to be wrapped up in what we are doing every time.

    Thanks for sharing!

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