All Over the Map

It was on the way back from doing a meet and greet for Veterans in my pinup best that the fun began with Him today. The pinup volunteering is pretty amazing, actually. It is all Him, this pinup look. Putting it into helping others adds a deeper meaning to everything, however, (and I don’t think I really felt this till now) I really do enjoy showing myself off in this way. It’s the attention whore part of me being released in a more socially acceptable way. Not by everyone mind you.

Hubby and some of his family are not too accepting of it. And in that is a defiance in me. There’s a part of me that’s admitting some of what I’m doing and who I’ve become. I can sense the judgement and disapprovement. Not an easy issue for me by any means. Yet, very subtly and firmly…I’m holding my own ground. This is me, who I choose to be, the way I chose to dress and no one is telling me I can’t. I realize it all comes from Him, but I chose to do it. In many ways I feel compelled to do it so strongly that I’d fight anyone who tried to stop me,  and I have.

On the way home He had me pull my skirt up to my waist, pull my panties into my pussy and piss for Him. Then He said that from now on He wants me to know about and see every time I pee.

I’ve never done this before, but I wrote that yesterday. Today, big sigh, I’ve been dealing with some trauma. So, so much is around. So much to deal with. I’m drunk right now. I had a huge bottle of beer all by myself. I’ve become a real believer in anything that gets me out of my mind so I can release the clenched jaw and fist I keep constantly.

I can’t always deal with things. Too many people in the mix telling me…no, screaming at me their idea of who I should be, what I should be doing and who the FUCK I am. That’s a huge issue right now, and it just makes my ability to deal with His fucking GAMES or is REAL? Don’t ask me. I’ve been on this fucking roller coaster for two fucking years and I DON’T KNOW!!

On the way home from the  Vet’s event it was all hot. I did everything He said. Pull up my vintage skirt up to my waist, pull my panties into my cunt, perfect…now piss yourself, I read. I finally did and sent the video. I’m fucking out of my mind, but I do it. It’s hot, but I’m also all ‘over the map’ as He calls it later when we talk. I am. I feel hot, then lost, then fucked up, then defiant, then fucking pissed off, then broken and sorry and longing.

I want to break away from everyone, including fucking HIM right now and go on a fucking binge with every cock I can swallow or fuck. Put myself in harms way so that I get so fucked up, I don’t have a thought left in my fucking head. I got messages from two young men who want to meet me to fuck because they know about me, a guy from the past, two of my favorite black lovers at the same time (one has been calling me, while hubby is standing right there…hot in a weird fucking way), and I’ve been surrounded for the last few days by young guys that I’ve fucked, right there in my face. Guess what though? I can’t do shit! My car is a fucking NSA nightfuckingmare for hubby and He is always home lately!

This morning I sent a video of me peeing, as per his orders to tell Him from now on about every pee and to show Him. God, I love when He says to do something. Truth is He takes so many things away, I wonder how long this will last before He stops reacting to it. And that morning…already…I sent the video then three pix of me with a towel wrapped around my waist and my tits pushed together with my nipples erect. His reaction this morning??

“morning”, He said.

I pull in, I regroup, I calm myself and then there’s all the chatter of “I’m an ass to have gotten involved with Him again…I was fucking letting go and then here I fucking am again”, “It’s part of the game, just relax”, “Don’t think, just do what you’re told”, “is he fucking with me”?….WHAT THE FUCK!!

Ok, so I’m fighting with hubby and if I could get on a bus, I’d be gone…but I do something else; I think like Him. I change direction. I grab hubby’s wrist and bring him into the bathroom I’ve been fucked by a couple of lovers and tell him he needs to fuck me hard. He pulls his cock out and I get on my knees and swallow him whole. He likes this position, because all his own angst of dealing with family disapproval of his slutty wife and daughter are hard for him to swallow. He chokes me with his cock, enjoys the tears welling in my eyes and does it again and again. Then he fucked me so hard and made me put my head down in the sink. I looked up at the mirror and saw him looking at my expression and realized that he was seeing something I usually don’t show. He looked confused. It was my pleasure in feeling pain. Of being abused.

Yes, I feel all of that. My mind and body going back and forth, trying to make sense of everything I’ve been going through lately. I’m there. I’m not. I’m thinking of how I should express this to Him. Should I express this to Him. I take a pic of my pussy with all the creamy cum oozing from it and send it with another of my panties with cum spread all over it and then my pee video.

“hot sloppy little slut”, He says.

Do I answer? NO. Just leave it. It’s good now, leave it that way. He liked what I did. I hate this though, I’m feeling. Maybe I should have answered. Do you feel the game? Do you feel the pain of not knowing, not being sure, not having access to what to do next? The slightest insecurity. The smallest emotional shift…it’s over. Game lost. And I feel like a failure. Even a good comment can make me freak.

And another thing…”little slut”; that word ‘little’ is a tough one for me. I can’t lie: I feel heartbroken that he used to call me His babygirl. I feel as if He is saying, YOU’RE NOT. NOT WORTHY of being my baby girl every time He calls me His slut. That that’s all I’m good for. This struggle inside about being turned on by being “worthless” and “nothing” to Him and yet He gave me babygirl. He said it would take time to develop. How could I know what a ‘babygirl’ was? I did what I could. I played with all kinds of things. Little girl panties and teddy bears and Lollypops and even a baby voice. Pony tails and pig tails for months and months and months…He never said anything about it. I finally stopped the tails. What is a babygirl? What didn’t I do? One day it was going beautifully and I felt loved and protected…and His; then words of me just playing at it, not being real…not good enough.

Sometimes, it’s pain, beyond pain. Pain like I’ve never felt in my life. And then He says to me how my pain and humiliation makes His cock hard. I’m attracted to it and tortured and scared to death of it at the same time.

Sorry so depressing. I just can’t always bury all the uncertainty all the time. I need a place to let it out…this is the only place I have to go.


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