Mmm make it hurt

The other night Master and I finally got to christen the pool. Betty apparently noted this: today I found a waterproof book of aquatic sex positions by my bed. Amusing that the book was waterproof. As if somebody is going to keep it by the pool so they can pause in the middle of a fuck and say "Hang on, I'm just going to look up the instructions for this position..."

I'm glad we got to do it, even though it was probably too late at night for the neighbours to catch us. I really love sex in water. Probably for the same reason some wouldn't: it washes away the natural lubrication, and hopefully, usually, that hurts. For most women it washes it away, anyway. For me, the effect is sadly short-lived.

I'm just a really, really wet, horny slut. Master regularly marvels at it. He sometimes tells me to touch myself to show me how wet I am, and sometimes even I am surprised. I get wet enough for it to run down my legs. There have been times when I've been so wet that someone has fisted me and I haven't even noticed. Once, after a session of fully clothed foreplay, I had to borrow underwear and a pair of jeans because mine were soaked to the point that they were unwearable. So when Master fucked me in the pool, it wasn't long before the water made no difference and his cock was wet from one thing only: nadi juice. And he proved it to me by placing it in my mouth afterwards, and I tasted no chorline - just, well, me.

Funny then, that as someone with so much lubrication that it makes people wonder if I dehydrate, I get off on being fucked dry. An ex used to spend a long time holding my legs apart and blowing cold air on me to make me dry out, then force his way in hard, giving me about 3 seconds of delicious pain before I flooded again, then pull out and repeat.

The easier way for me to get that kind of pain, or at least close to it, is when Master fucks my ass, as he also did that night. Some men I can take with no problem at all, but he hurts, every time. It took a long while before he could fuck me anally without me screaming and trying to pull away. Now I usually manage with just loud groans and gasps, hold my breath, bite something if I can, and clench my fists... but I hold still, and then try to force myself to move with him. My struggle doesn't mean I don't enjoy it - on the contrary, I love crossing back and forth over that mental threshold between "no, stop" and "ooohh yeahh". And I love the way he ignores my pain and reminds me that my body is his property and he will treat it as he likes. And I love that raw, grinding friction that only comes with fucking a tight, dry hole.

I'm glad we got to try the pool before summer ended. Now I just hope the warm weather returns long enough to still get the chance to do the outdoor thing. I can almost hear his reply to that: "What makes you think I won't make you do it in the cold?"

Honesty

If I'm totally honest with myself, that whole last post was a load of BS.

Its all true, and relevant, but not the main thing bugging me at all.

The truth is, I'm just uncomfortable being so dependent on him. I'm looking for reasons why dependency is inappropriate, when really its just that I'm scared and I want an excuse to care a little less (as if thats an option).

My secret neediness has been showing, and it makes me fear driving him away. So I try and cover it up as quick as I can.

There. That was real.

Fucking patience!

I have the patience of a two-year-old sometimes. Well, a lot of the time. I've been carrying on a bit about missing Master and waiting to see him lately (and I don't just mean in this blog, I've been whingeing to him a lot, too.) The silly part is, I haven't really been seeing him much (if any) less than usual - its just that, he's recently been working less for a couple of months, and I kind of got used to spending more time with him than usual. Now going back to normal feels like a cruel deprivation.

Being aware that its all in my head doesn't make it any easier. As time goes by between meetings, I get more anxious over how long it will be before the next one. Its like a countdown to losing control. And when I reach desperation point, I get a little demanding. I know I'm getting near the edge of acceptable behaviour then. The naughty, I-want part of myself tries to push harder, and I really fight with myself to stop crossing over the line from persistent to insistent.

But I just want to see him. And touch him. And be with him. I miss him. And I love him. Not to mention that I'm so damned horny all the time. Fuck. Sometimes, I get angry and frustrated. Other times, I just get sad. Always, I am so grateful for every minute I get to be with him. Every morning I wake up and wonder if I will be lucky today.

What annoys me about the whole thing most of all, is the knowledge, deep down, that this is probably good for me. A while ago I asked, among other things, for help to think less selfishly, and I think this situation might provide that by sheer chance. What is the previous paragraph but a list of nagging "I-want"s? Its not about what I want. And right now thats just fine because I can't get what I want. If I can find a way to accept that, and wait patiently, I'll be doing much better. How to do that, though... thats another matter altogether...

Try anything twice

Its a simple but clever trick: get me horny and wet (no challenge so far), take me close to orgasm but don't let me reach it, and then give me a suggestion, and I will want to do it. Anything at all, even things that I'd find shocking or repulsive when I'm, say, doing my grocery shopping. I've lost count of how many times I've come home after seeing Master and found myself thinking I can't believe I said I wanted to do that - and not just that I would if I had to, but that I really want to. And the desire doesn't completely dissipate, either - things I'd initially file under please-don't-make-me, go to yes-please-let-me while I'm in 'the zone', and then after the high wears off, they end up somewhere around not-my-favourite-but-ok.

Take me there often enough, and the idea ends up permanently promoted to yes-please. I can think of a lot of things I would have been horrified at, or at least very cautious about, before I met Master, that are now, thanks to his manipulation, my most desired goals, or savoured among my favourite things to do. Things like lengthy asphyxiation, knife play, toilet play, and other things he prefers me not to talk about. I never would have done these things a year ago. And I'm not complaining - its great! One of the main things I was looking for when I met him was someone who could help me explore, and as much as possible eliminate, my limits. Its just turned out to be much more possible than I had anticipated.

I suspect I could write a book on "what subbing has taught me about life" already (and I am by no means notably experienced at it). One of the big themes would be that you really never know what you are capable of doing, and capable of enjoying. Even if you have tried it, there is nothing to say it wouldn't be a vastly different experience under new circumstances. Never rule anything out. Ever.

Held

I was woken by my son at 5.30 this morning, and after settling him and going back to bed, I was drifting towards sleep when I heard my phone buzz next to me. I knew only Master would sms me at that time of the morning, so I roused myself enough to read what it said: "Glad to see you are beginning to realise just how much I know you."

It was perfect timing. I was just awake enough to read it, then fall back asleep with a smile on my face and into a stunning dream about his hands, larger than life, not just touching me but going right through me and knowing me inside and out.

Now, today, I felt that wonderful, warm, confined, enslaved feeling again. I had to laugh at myself - the experience that brought it on wasn't even real, lol...

But in a way, it is real - he knows me so intimately that I have trouble believing it possible. Right from the beginning, he has seemed to understand me completely. A part of me just can't accept that - surely its all in my mind? But time and again, he proves its not. It doesn't make sense, but its true.

Its also true that I don't like people to know me too well. I think I've written this before, but even my closest friends are around for years before I let them know much about me at all. I like to keep me to myself. Why? Control, I guess. Less risk. Less chance of showing weakness. But with Master, I am ultimately vulnerable, and it feels good. Scary, but good. And it doesn't make me weak, it makes me strong.