Surprises have a way of breaking my fixed focus and reminding me that I don’t have all the answers; I don’t have most of the answers; I don’t always need the answers and life and love have their own path. Today, was a day of surprises for sure.
I woke this morning feeling a bit better than my suicidal expression from yesterday. My god, I felt like death. Maybe, in some ways, it was a death. A death of ideas and closed off, structured boxes that I had painted myself into. And I do that every freakin’ time that I ‘decide’ that I know best. That my idea of how this is going to go is better than His. As He says, “Not gonna happen…ever”, as He chuckles a laugh I’ve heard Him use a few times. Not enough though; I should be the reason He laughs more often.
I woke this morning with a question about the woman that did the photo shoot. She was “shocked” and “mortified” by my behavior, in other words: fucking her friend/s. He helped me think about it differently, and when I was done I said I needed to take a shower, I asked if He wanted me to bring the phone. When He said, “no, that’s ok”, my heart sank a bit.
After my shower, I had this impulse to put on an outfit He might enjoy. It was a very tight small turquoise tank with my nipples erect and on display and a very short, frayed denim skirt with no panties. I took a few shots, no smiles; some standing in poses and others on my knees with my legs open, touching my bare, exposed pussy. I was aching for Him. I tried so intently to remind myself it was about Him and that I wanted nothing. Truth was, I was already panting and internally begging for Him to use me…make me do something. I don’t think I realized how much.
“Hot lil redneck slut day”, He said, and I closed my eyes for a moment while my pulse and pussy reacted.
I stupidly jumped to something about making His cock hard and felt I had made a mistake. I had, but I just ignored my mistake and waited for His next response.
“Tan lines too. Very good”, He quipped and I just said I was glad he liked.
More pictures and suddenly He said, “I know what you need”. My God, He has never said that to me. I couldn’t even imagine what He was going to say. Here’s the odd thing, He chose a huge black dildo that I had just hid in a bag in my basement before I left for my Ayahuasca trip, in case hubby started looking around. And that is what I mean that He has a sixth sense that can’t and never should be underestimated.
He hasn’t used this on me in a long time. It’s usually used for pain, as it’s called a forearm dildo. It hurts going in, and I have loved it since He told me to purchase “a dildo that will hurt”. He also told me to use my green vibrator He calls Kermit on my clit, and that I need to make sure I “take it all”!
I was, however, avoiding this feeling that He wanted me to cum. I really didn’t feel I could. The day before was a stay in a dungeon that I built around myself and tortured my soul relentlessly, until I felt raw. It didn’t seem probable.
I ran and got both toys I was told to and made video after video showing Him how deep I could “impale your hot wet cunt” on the huge rubber cock. He kept pushing me on and telling me “thats it, stretch that pussy open & ride it fucking hard”.
My cunt was on fire from the pain, and yet it went inside me easier than I can ever remember before. Psychological pain often gets me crazy wet for abuse, which is what He was giving me. As He said, ‘what I needed’. I jammed my cunt up and down frantically on the dildo moaning and whining from how good it felt from the pain. Showing Him is so deeply fulfilling, I just have no words for it. It’s literally the hottest feeling in my life.
I was so close, so fucking close to cumming, but all of a sudden it was gone! Like it had been pulled right out of my pussy. I froze and then tried so hard to get it back. What. THE. FUCK!! I tried harder and then I had to apologize to Him.
“So sorry I didn’t cum, Sir”, I cried.
“I knew you wouldn’t, just one more thing to add to your pain”, He snapped back.
It was the strangest reaction I had to His words. I just looked at them, scowled, picked up the vibrator with a vengeance without even thinking; I grabbed my phone, hit record and thought ‘You want to see me cum…I’ll cum’. It was so odd. In literally three seconds, I was lifted into a screaming (and I mean screaming!) orgasm. It just kept going higher along with my voice. I lost track of time and place and felt like my whole body was buzzing and pulsing in the deepest pleasure I have felt in months. I almost collapsed crying and yet still holding the phone recording it all for Him to see.
“I came, Sir. So fucking hard”, I wrote, exhausted.
“That’s right. Cause you had to”, shot His response, and I just said that I wasn’t sure I understood, but I did. And I do, but I can’t explain it. Mainly, because I can’t consciously understand why I did that. I really just reacted. He was right, though; I had to.
Was it because I didn’t want to accept the heartbreaking defeat from all the disappointment from the weekend? Was it my way of taking my power back from feeling gutted by the Universe, by whatever Goddess is in that herb…even, Him? Was cumming my way of saying ‘I can’t give up…no matter what’?
I’m not sure, still. I’m only sure that the release was part of my healing. That no matter what I go through, He’s always there.
He always knows.
That, without any doubt, is why I come back on my knees, begging for forgiveness, time and time again.
And by the way…my photographer friend sent me the pictures…with a smile. Healing. The only way TO it, is going through it.
All of it. Surprise, surprise.