Confidence game, part 2

Drew said when we got to LA he wasn’t going to give me any choices as to what he wanted to take from me or do to me. That kind of talk makes me nervous. While I crave someone taking control from me, I also like holding on to it. Like a security blanket. I end up using it as a shield to protect me from things I might not otherwise have the nerve to do but really want to.

Being able to let myself go there with him is sort of a chicken and egg thing, though. He used to ask me if he could do things, specifically around pain. He’d ask if I could take more. He still tends to defer to my mood on things. But I don’t want to be asked or deferred to. As nervous as losing my own agency makes me, it’s also ridiculously hot. So I told him to stop asking. Start telling. Start doing. Take what you want. In essence, his declaration to me as we arrived in LA was an extension of what I asked him to do. Logical in that we’d be together for longer than a few hours. We were going to be together for two nights and most of three days.

The only hard rule, besides that he could do to me whatever he wanted, was that I had to be naked in the hotel room. There was a line where the tile met the carpet and I couldn’t cross it in clothing. Being forced into nakedness pushes me down into my sub headspace. Several times (most of the times, actually) when we got back to the room I wasn’t much in the mood to be naked but I allowed myself to follow his rule and, each and every time, I took everything off (except for the Holy Trainer, of course). Usually, he didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look. It was just what I had to do, so I did. Quietly, it put me in my place. Enough that I found myself asking his permission to get dressed before we’d leave the room.

Of course, I am submissive, but I do not always feel submissive. He didn’t care. He’d reach over and twist my nipples or grab my balls and squeeze them or slap them or he’d shove a finger (or three) up my ass or shove his cock in my mouth, whenever he felt like it. He never asked. I never said no, even if I wanted to. Even if I wasn’t in the mood to be pinched or squeezed or slapped.

At the beginning of our relationship, Drew and I made it too prescriptive. Too rigid. Too many rules. We had to throw them out as I couldn’t live in two worlds like that. But when I got to know him and like him and trust him, all those rules boiled down to “he’s in charge when we’re together.” But only when he allows himself to be that way. If he prevaricates or allows me too much freedom and self-determination, it starts to falter. It’s OK if that’s also what he wants. No Dom can be in Dommy Top mode 24/7, after all. But I’ve learned to allow myself to believe I don’t have any say over what I’m forced to do or endure when I’m with him and, as long as he also plays along, it’s kind of magic.

This played out several times over the weekend, but most explicitly on the last day. I woke up with the very beginnings of a cold and wasn’t at all in the mood for sex or anything else, really. But Drew was. I tried to avoid his advances and play coy, but he kept pushing. In my head, I had visions of resisting. Of making it stop. And, truth be told, I did resist a little. I didn’t open up to him as quickly as I might have otherwise. I hoped he’d stop. But he didn’t retreat.

Part of my issue was my nipples were very sore and puffy from two days of abuse already. They fucking hurt. But it didn’t matter. He wanted them to hurt more. I complained and whined and squirmed, but that didn’t do anything but make his inner sadist’s hard-on as hard as it could be (he’s never harder than when he’s hurting me). The more I pulled away the more he advanced and the harder and more cruel he was. I said to myself this wasn’t what I wanted. That I should make it stop. But the illusion held. At one point, with his fist gripping my nuts in a vice and his other hand twisting my poor abused tits, the magic flip happened. My whiny protests turned into moans of pleasure. I found myself in subspace’s neighboring suburb. The one where, if I’m not careful, I can get lost in the caverns of masochism. Where I cannot get enough pain. I cannot be hurt. Pain and pleasure merge and become something else. That’s when he has to be the one to watch out for me because I will never make him stop whatever he’s doing. I will always ask for more. Always be able to take more.

And, of course, he fucked me. Hard. Not in a way that was meant to provide me pleasure. Whatever I did eek out was a byproduct of him using me for my holes and taking his pleasure from them. It was difficult to endure at times. It went on longer than I would have liked. But he didn’t stop. He didn’t ask how I was doing. He just pounded me until he came.

What I don’t really know about myself is where my illusory resistance to his dominance ends and is replaced with real resistance. If I didn’t know him and trust him, it seems to me this would be recipe for abuse. But I do know him and he knows me. I don’t always want to be pushed and hurt and fucked but, if he takes those things from me with enough tenacity and force, I end up liking it. It’s weird and hard to digest, if I’m honest.

But it didn’t matter in LA. He took what he wanted when he wanted. He hurt me and used me. And I think back on all of it through a gauzy haze of contentment and pleasure.

9 thoughts on “Confidence game, part 2

  1. I love this post from the sub perspective, thank you so much for sharing it.

    “What I don’t really know about myself is where my illusory resistance to his dominance ends and is replaced with real resistance.”

    I love that you say this. THIS is the dangerous place, the knife edge for me as a dominant.

    I love loveLOVE pushing past where he thinks he wants to stop because that’s where the uber hotness lives for me (and us), going there together, but I have to trust us BOTH to know where that tipping point is between ‘resistance that I can get past’ and ‘resistance that signals the end point’. They both present the same because they *aren’t* some kind of ‘play-acting’: They both feel sincerely real to him and they both look real to me, because they are.

    If I push past the first, there is an ecstatically happy place for both of us on the other side and I want us to go there, but if I push past the second, there is a mess of hurt and blame and lost trust on the other side of it. And until I know for sure that I can recognise one from the other, I won’t go there with him.

    As you say, that takes time and trust which 100% goes both ways. Though it’s often presented as one way: that the sub has to trust the dom. But from the other side, I have to trust him as well.

    Thank you for articulating it so well.

    And I’m so delighted that Drew was able to read you just right and take you there: that’s a wonderful testament to his skill and to where you are as a couple.

    Ferns

    Liked by 5 people

  2. Wow. What a nice post. One thing I missed is you say Drew doesn’t take you there all the time or chooses not to push you, but is that because you are essentially best friends and you two enjoy that non dommy time or do you wish he’d take control more? I wonder this with my sub husband as he sometimes says he wishes I’d push more but likes out relationship. Hard to understand at times.

    Like

    1. We’re close, but I don’t know I’d call him my best friend…

      Not sure how to answer this. He was (and, I guess, is) free to push my buttons whenever and wherever he wants and being pushed like that flips my switch. On the other hand, I don’t think anyone can be like that all the time, 24/7. When we were out and driving around or whatever we were just two friends having a good time.

      Maybe Drew can add more to this.

      Like

      1. thank you for the response and I look forward to Drews. I didn’t mean you were best friends but the boyfriend line didn’t allow me words I know. Does that make sense? May I ask, do you allow yourself to feel controlled by him long distance anymore?

        Like

      2. Wait, first, are you telling me all those hours I have spent writing “Drew and Thumper BFF” on my notebooks has been in vain? Really? It was a new Trapper Keeper and those curly letters were hard. Fuck me. I was even going to get a paint pen.

        I would say that as we have evolved I have learned more when I want to push the buttons versus when I don’t. I have some amazing memories of LA, but one of my favorites was Saturday night driving aimlessly with the top down listening to Thumper sing along to some of his favorite songs. At that moment he was my friend I admire and enjoy BUT the sadist in me took great pleasure in knowing that his nipples were sore and that his balls hurt because I HAD CAUSED IT earlier. For me, the fact I can do this and have his trust to take him there at MY choosing just makes this that much more hot which makes me that much more hard which makes me hurt him more.

        That said, there are many many times during the times we are not together that I WANT to push his buttons but I can’t because I can’t see his face, can’t read him, can’t feel him to know if I CAN get him there. It’s not fun for me if he’s not on the path with me and long distance that is hard. Now, when he’s back from vacation, we are going to try something that will last exactly two weeks and the only thing I am going to do is to ask him if he is willing and to agree to trust me, THEN I will lay out the terms. (btw, Thump, this will save me an email – you game?).

        Finally, the one thing he mentioned in the post is that I still defer to his emotions or moods. I expect that will change more as we grow as a pairing just as I have learned to push him when he is allegedly “not in the mood”, but that will be tougher, but not the impossible task I would have thought it to be six or eight months ago. I can explain that further if needed.

        I rambled here, but think I skirted around the point.

        Finally, anyone want a used Trapper Keeper with some scribbling?

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Thank you for this. It’s a fascinating mindset all the way around. I’m interpreting it in a way of there is an invisible (at most times) power dynamic that Drew holds the power button on, correct? Thus I’d also assume that when he wants it, Thumper can almost set that button in front of Drew and say “remember it’s here push it now”?

        Like

      4. Now, Drew, you are a *good* friend. Don’t pout. In thinking about it, I’m not sire I even have a “best” friend. Suppose that’s a side effect of living a compartmentalized life.

        “…do you allow yourself to feel controlled by him long distance anymore?”

        Not as much as I’m sure Drew would like. It’s a lot harder for me to get into the mindset that I have to follow his direction when I’m immersed in my life with Belle and family. Too many other distractions and things to pull me out of the headspace.

        “I’d also assume that when he wants it, Thumper can almost set that button in front of Drew and say “remember it’s here push it now””

        In fact, we had some time before leaving for the airport back at the hotel and I stuck a few of those buttons out for him to push.

        Like

  3. Wow and I totally understand. so many factors into submission. Head space, the temperature (I’m Floridian, it’s a factor), the relationship or relationships, the incoming cold bug, the dog being clingy, so many and sometimes it’s true… Can’t be a total sub all the time. It can be pleasurably frustrating.
    It’s my go to place but I can also get dominant myself. This post sums it up for me. Ultimately it’s His desire and if it’s Bis desire to push that envelope I will go there. Sometimes reluctantly but ultimately at the end I am happy we went there.

    I’m going to have my Sir read this. It’s a good read. Thanks.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s