My heart is fragile. It’s survival seems controlled by so many different emotions. Some experiences just trigger a reaction and I find myself doing things that betray me. It betrays my best efforts to please.
Vengeance seeps out. I lash out in desperation without fully understanding myself.
A girlfriend of mine was showing some interest in Him. She kept mentioning how He had told her He liked her nipples under her tank during one of our shows. Something in me felt she was drawn to Him. Scared from hearing my experiences, yet she was curious and turned on.
I told Him about it. I realized that her issues could be helped by Him. He was very intrigued by her issues. So I softly helped both sides meet. Within a few weeks I got a text from her saying she had been thinking of me a lot. That now she understood what I had been going through and could we talk.
I didn’t expect to feel what I did. I felt twisted inside. I felt like my secret garden with Him had been entered. It wasn’t “mine” anymore. He seemed to downplay her and His experience with her. Still I felt horrible. And the more I denied it the worse it got.
A while back He read me the riot act over my jealousy of His past subs/girlfriends. Something else I hadn’t expected to feel, but did. As open as I wanted to be about His feelings for others, I found nothing but insecurity inside.
I loved hearing stories of Him shackling them to His iron bed. Knife play that made them cum uncontrollably. Gang bangs set up for their pleasure and His and how it had opened up their psyche in a way nothing else could. I so wanted to feel that and none of the jealousy. It was frustrating to say the least and He despised that reaction in me.
My feelings came to a peek one day and even though I had “decided” to hide my jealousy, I found myself in a stock room with a local black guy that worked at the supermarket. I sucked his cock amidst the rotting veggies and piled high cardboard boxes. I took a couple of pictures and sent them to Him. Stock boy bent me over and fucked me till he came spilling most of his cum on the dirty stock room floor. I didn’t feel much of anything. It was just an opportunity I had taken and it was deviant to be shopping one moment and fucking the next.
I felt I had shared it with Him with the few pix I sent. Yet some weird feeling in the pit of my stomach was there. I had done that for a very different reason than I thought I had. I felt angry. I was hurt. I wanted to hurt Him back.
When He called me on it, I felt ashamed. My best efforts to submerge my jealousy had not only failed, I had lashed out at Him! And He knew it by my expression when sucking his cock. Plus He’s intuition already had me from the moment I sent the pix.
There have been times that I admitted to doing something that was hurtful. He had rewarded my honesty and it brought us closer. “And no calling me Daddy till further notice”, he said. This was NOT one of those times.
I hadn’t meant to do it. It feels sometimes like there’s a little gremlin in my head that manipulates and then I have to feel the punishment. Amazing how I had tried so hard to hide my feelings of jealousy. I had told myself I could be mature about His talking to my friend. That Him using Daddy with her within days of speaking to her didn’t bother me. Or that His suggesting she get a remote vibrator (something He said to me and I bought for us for Christmas) was not an issue for me. That she told me she enjoyed feeling she had His attention instead of me didn’t disturb me. But it did. I was seething.
I have seen some of the best traits and the worst cum out of me through my experiences with Him. Jealousy was not one I realized was so gripping in me. It shocked me to be honest. Having to feel His anger and response was very upsetting and only got worse the longer He wouldn’t let me call His name. Even though He has let me use it a couple of weeks ago though, I still don’t feel comfortable using it. As He always says, there are consequences to our actions. Boy, are there ever.