Long, Hard, and Wonderful

No.  This has very little to do with penises.  The title refers to this weekend.

I had a very hard time on Saturday.  Details aren't important.  But I was put in my place.  It was my fault and frankly, I'm ashamed of how I acted.  By the end of it, I literally had to be forced to lie down and held tightly while I fought, struggled, and cried.

How ladylike.  How becoming.  (The sarcasm ends there.)

I haven't had an episode like that in a long time.  I felt awful.  At the time it was suffocating, painful, and crushing.  I wanted out of that house.  I don't think I've ever really wanted to leave before, but I wanted to leave then.  Not permanently, just... to breathe.  It felt like walls were closing in on me.  A slave's fantasy, right?  Or at least, that's what people would have us think.  But I couldn't leave.  There was no where to go and no way to get there.  I'm never sure if he intends it to be that way or not... but sometimes things like that can start to feel less like a secure, loving embrace and more like a hand locked around your neck.

I didn't want out of the relationship.  I didn't want out of O/p or M/s or anything else.  Truth be told, I don't know what I wanted.  But while I was fighting against his arms around me and weeping in the name of I-don't-even-know, it sunk in that he loved me.  He had to threaten me to get me to calm down... it made me spin out again later, but it worked momentarily.  I don't want to say that what he did was wrong.  He can do whatever he wants.  Honestly, it means very much to me that he is willing to go to any lengths to put me back in my place... even when it hurts.  Even when it feels like being spurned more so than being accepted.

But when the dust settled... it was okay.  I was okay.  I wasn't dead and I wasn't alone.  I still hurt inside a bit, but that was what made it so worthwhile.  I was safe, despite being inside of myself.  I was rather deeply embarrassed.  For those of you who are here perving, yes... there was aftermath sex.  Good, steamy, blissful, sensation-play oriented sex.  But that's not what I'm talking about... for today.  It was amazing, learning that no matter how much I fight, he'll always be there - pushing me back down.  Sometimes it does feel painful and suffocating.  Hell, even he admitted he was tough on me, which almost never happens.  But mostly it's just... comforting.

I don't really know how to explain what went on.  I'm embarrassed and ashamed about it (my behavior).  Really... a lot.  I wish I could be graceful.  I wish I had poise and elegance, even in the face of harm and difficulty.  Sometimes I do... not on Saturday.  I am really, really ashamed.  I don't think I'll ever be lovely or graceful (why does he call me his "lovely" anyway?).  Yet, the sense of peace and.. owned-ness that followed may have made it worthwhile.  Maybe we needed it.

I am on a few restrictions now.  I don't think they're directly a result of what happened, but maybe indirectly.  Everything I put in my mouth now needs to be Master-approved.... indefinitely.  Just another thing to cradle me with, I suppose.... :)

*~zelda...