Panic and Fear and the Back of a Van

This feeling of spinning and then the room closing in on me; falling down into a place inside myself that all I could do was stop. I said to Him I wasn’t feeling that great and to have a good night. I stared at His words “what’s wrong”.

In the very start of this two year journey with Him I saw His words then too. ‘Say good bye to any sense of balance’ was one that almost always comes to mind when I fall into this place. It’s that feeling of not knowing for sure if my mind is being fucked with and more importantly…why? Is everything that He does to me a chess move and this is all just a game? Or is it just how He feels and He responds to me the way He does sans motive? Am I the only one who manipulates and lies as He says to me?

The jumbled mess of telling me there would be no balance, that I’d never know anything because it IS a game and being in such a powerless position with Him is terrifying at times. This is one of them. And maybe just writing that has given me a sense of at least one reason I come back over and over. His other words to me that more than anything else, I crave pain: Emotional, physical, mental is my deepest truth and my drug of choice, I suppose. I ask for it in everything I do. In fact, I’m noticing it showing up in my life in different people. Everything from mental games to financial emotional blackmail. I’m drawn to it. The only positive I can see in it at the moment is that I now see it. I still don’t understand it though.

Yesterday, I was at a home and the landscapers were there. Three guys again. Something is definitely going in on with that number and me confronting my fear about it. I had on just a purple sheer lace bra and thong and black thigh highs doing my cleaning. Not my normal, but I had sent Him some pix and He hadn’t responded. It turned me on knowing those guys were outside and I decided to take His advice with the three movers (stripping down to something hot and letting them see). Figures though, they weren’t around all of a sudden.

After a while, I changed but then there they were…right where they could see me. I went outside (in cleaning clothes) and hoped they’d notice me. I could feel they did, but my energy was like static. They felt like circling animals trying to decide whether to attack or not, only I wasn’t in that place. That place where magic happens. So when I went back inside I took off my top, but either they couldn’t see inside or just weird timing. They were never in the right place and I gave up. I was upset and to make it worse a Kik friend couldn’t meet me either. Too far and His lunch break wasn’t long enough.

That static I mentioned, it was so strong inside me now I was frantic. I was actually glad He was sleeping because it’s the worst of me being so out of it. Nothing annoys Him more.

Maybe this was forcing things, I’m not sure, but I grabbed my phone and text my Kik friend and said I would drive somewhere closer to Him. In my car racing to meet this guy, and I couldn’t share anything with Him. I was crying and observing myself and talking out loud trying to make sense of what the FUCK I was doing.

Let me back up and say that this Kik friend had gotten my attention on Skype because of his 13 inch cock!

I love all cock.

I swear I’m an equal opportunity fuck toy. However…however, I really, truly love BIG cock. If it hurts, bring it on! Anything over 7 inches goes into that category for me. Thirteen inches?? I’m there!

I’m also a fucking gullible dope.

We got into the back of this guy’s van right out in the open in a big shopping center (I am certifiable at times). I was instantly on my knees and as always, all my nerves calm down, my stress, my pain; it’s all still there, but it has a place to go. It has a place to be used in a positive way. How do I know? Because that much I can feel. It’s on such a deep level and I had no idea of this (or at least consciously) until He came into my life.

I sucked this guy’s cock like I was trying to bring back the chrome shine on a junkyard jalopy (humor me guys). The situation seemed to lend to that too. This guy was rough looking: very few teeth and all rotten, rough speaking, van was a disaster and I was dressed in my work clothes (I had removed my shirt though and had the purple bra on that exposed most of my tits as they were too big for the bra).

Plus, when I saw this guy’s cock I was humiliated. I realized he had lied and I fell for it. This cock was no larger than 5 or 6 inches! I felt cheated and exposed, trashy and used…oddly enough it worked for a turn on. And how do I know this? I watched the video I sent to Him. I felt twisted into a pretzel even when sucking the snake oil salesmen’s cock. The angst inside me was exactly what He told me I crave. And there it was.

I hated myself for doing this. Just off the phone with one of my kids, who were spying on me for hubby. It was broad daylight, I was such a slut that I had to have it anywhere, anytime…just to have it. Of course, just like always–I was blaming Him for it: I want to show Him, to please Him. Although, that’s always a part of why I do this, I can feel the difference in moments like this one. This experience was more about me being so fucked up that I had to do something crazy to keep myself alive.

Some people do parachutes or bungee jumping, others cut themselves craving pain and then healing.

I risk almost anything to FEEL through SEX.

The humiliation, the embarrassment, the degradation, the pain; the cheating, the thrill, the exhibitionism, the daring: all to FEEL ALIVE.

And the debacle of being, in my mind, turned down by the landscapers, the movers; it all leads to me pushing myself to do something totally nuts. A way to build up the pain threshold. Maybe it’s the only way I can handle or accept what I’m doing.

God, I do love the cum though. I made sure to open my mouth so some would drool out and I could show Him. I cleaned up his cock with my tongue afterwards too. It’s like an instinct I didn’t know I had.

As quickly as I showed up and jumped in this van, I pulled on my hoody and sped away in my car. I pulled over and made sure the video sent and sat there and watched myself. I hadn’t realized I had made any noise. I didn’t even feel like I was responding to this guy. Emotionally vacant and completely freaked–my expression, my body language, the sound of my voice reflected something so different. I looked…totally natural.

I felt better. I figured He was sleeping, I had shared something He most likely would enjoy and, even though I had been like a loose canon, I felt relaxed now.

Until, I noticed something I wish I hadn’t.

I went on to post things on all my social media for the Pinup Contest. When I got to Facebook, I saw that He had shared something I posted to His profile! I always love that. But then I noticed the timestamp. Four hours ago. He wasn’t sleeping. I went into a tailspin. What does that mean? Why would He do that? What’s wrong with me? Does that mean I’m nothing to Him? What did I do wrong?

I can’t think straight. I go from a deep dark hole of every fear I can come up with to anger and outrage at His ignoring me. I’m upset, I’m hurt, I’m mad. I’m drowning. Again. I put my fingers on the keys and type, “Good night and be well”. And a few minutes later He comments on my “afternoon diversion” being hot. Nothing could cause more confusion in me than that.

I haven’t written back since last night. I needed some time to recover. I needed to sleep and the tiny bit of control I had was not answering. I’m realizing now that those reactions are such a big part of me truly finding strength. My panic and feeling of fear and need in those moments are what holds me back. It’s what causes Him to pull away.

I know that a normal response to being ignored would be something like the way I felt and reacted; however, this is a D/s relationship (at least that’s what I feel). I’m the small ‘s’. I’m supposed to find a way to get past my own shit and remember that His decisions are His decisions.

So goes the journey.

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