The music is taking me to my own little world. Dave is on. He is always on. 2:00pm came and went…and I didn’t.
The real world has intruded on our lives today.
My chest feels tight and my nipples hard. Everything tingles. All my nerve endings are alive. I am completely aroused. I so want to ravage M on the floor. I want to scratch and bite. I want to draw blood. It’s one of those times that the goal isn’t to orgasm…it’s to fuck until physical exhaustion. The one that can walk afterwards is the winner.
Play is always rough during these times. He doesn’t fight back. He worries that he will hurt me. I find that I need to have something to struggle against. Something to match my power, my energy. Something to beat my body on. To pound me. Something to subdue me.
I cannot effectively explain the force, except to say it’s volatile. And it’s consuming. All I can think about is to push until I’m free of it. Obsession. Waves beating against the cliffs. Battered and broken. To come undone. Self-destruction? Release.
MAKE NO MISTAKE. I want it perfectly understood I don’t condone domestic abuse. There is a huge difference between that and sex play. I have absolutely no tolerance for it. M is not an abuser-he would not be alive if he were.
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3 comments:
Sounds as if M doesn't have very long to live,used up before long.
Another victim of domestic agression,pray for his soul.
I read all the posts down to bottom orange eating,means I felt like it,then it must be real good posting.Good writing.
Cheers.
While M 'puts up with a lot' from me, he also gains from his situation. He has a life that he never dreamed of, or thought was possible. Risk little gain little...Risk a lot.... I assure you M does not need your prayers. He is very happy where he is at. I take care of what is MINE.
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