My blog is mostly about the fun sexy times I have with MrDom. But our relationship is like any other -it has its ups and downs. I don’t want to paint a perfect picture here….
I had an emotional scene last night and called red for the first time ever. Actually what I said was “Red! Red! Red! Red! …. get me down from here!”
He took me down immediately. Now I know I can trust him to do that, if it ever happens again. Not that I ever doubted he wouldn’t though.
I didn’t call red because of the physical pain. I called it because emotionally I was fucked up.
If he had been doing emotional sadism, like on purpose, it would have been deemed a perfectly executed, successful scene. But in that moment I couldn’t tell if it was on purpose or not, so I called it.
We have never talked about doing an emotionally sadistic scene before. Sure, he uses Words that can be classified as that, but we’ve never talked about building a whole scene around emotional sadism.
I’m not even sure he would be interested in doing that -I’m not sure I would be. I would want to talk about it first. The fact that we have never talked about it before was a pretty good indicator to me that this was not done with that intent in mind.
Our scene began well enough, laughing and joking with each other as he put the cuffs on and connected them to the bar strung from ceiling. I had just played with my girl on the cross, a very sensual scene with her husband and MrDom watching. By the time I was cuffed and strung up I was so wet.
He checked, of course. And then made me clean his finger off. And then called attention to how wet I was, calling me a whore and slut, which makes me even more wet.
And then he started to play with my clit. He wanted me to cum. But I wasn’t yet in the headspace for that.
It’s not easy for me to have an orgasm in public. The stars have to align just so, the moon just at the correct axle, and everything has to be perfect for it happen.
It happened at the sex club. It was my first time experiencing that environment, seeing others likewise engaged. Not knowing anyone. Or anyone knowing me. We were in the pool. There was anonymity.
Last weekend when I was loaned out it happened. My mind was floating in subspace, there was a lot of mental foreplay, humiliation, which continued for hours. It was unusual and extra hot, extra sexy and extra depraved.
Last night he wanted me to orgasm, standing up, in public and I just couldn’t. I wasn’t yet in the right mind space. I’ve said this many times…. it has to be more than just physical for me, it has to be mental.
I couldn’t orgasm on his command and he was disappointed in me. And he told me that. And called me a bad girl. One who could only cum when she was being whored out.
I know he truly was disappointed in me. His words weren’t just foreplay. I believed them and my throat tightened up, my eyes stung and I began to cry behind my blindfolds.
I was still crying when he began hitting me with something new. I asked him what it was and he said it was what my mother used to hit me with when I was a bad girl.
The wooden spoon.
And I started sobbing.
He pulled my panties down to my knees and left them there. I’ve been naked in public before, but at the dungeon I always wear panties.
I sobbed harder.
I kept focusing on the impact. He was disappointed in me and I was a bad girl (please mommy, I’ll be good I promise!)…. I would suffer through (this hurts me more than it hurts you)… I would take it for him (offer your pain up to god – yes mommy)…. and then maybe I would be a good girl again.
Then I felt his hands on my hips and he began turning me around. I panicked in that moment. I thought he was turning me to face everyone and they would see, they would all see me, completely exposed, the bad, bad girl that I am.
So I started to resist, “no, no, no Daddy”…. but I fully expected him to just face me to the crowd, pushing me out of my comfort zone as he has done before.
He stopped. I sensed he was upset with me. He struck me two more times and these felt different. Maybe it was everything that had built up to that point that made me think so. I was in a pretty fucked up headspace by then. And I got scared. So I called it. And he stopped.
He made me kneel there and wait blindfolded as he packed up. I was grateful for that. Time to gather my thoughts, to try and process what had happened.
He wrapped a blanket around me. We sat on the couch. Nothing was said.
Soon it was time to go. I got dressed and we said goodbye to our friends. And nothing was said.
We left the club and got in the car for the drive back to my place. And nothing was said.
After getting home he took his bag and started to leave. So I said something.
We went back to my room to try and talk about what happened. I couldn’t believe he was just going to leave. I had called red for the first time. Did he not want to know why? Did he not care enough to wonder why, to wonder how I was feeling? And why was he so upset with me anyway?
I sat there, exhausted and dropping, trying to explain everything to him and not doing a good job. He said very little. He did say it was not his intention to turn me all the way to face the crowd. He did say that he got upset when I said no to him. That I should have obeyed him.
He wouldn’t say much more than that and he eventually decided to leave.
By then I had curled myself into a fetal position on my bed. I stayed there as he opened my door and closed it. Stayed there as I heard him walk up the stairs and across the kitchen floor. Stayed there as I heard the door open and close.
Stayed there until I fell asleep.
UPDATE: We have communicated about what happened and have a greater understanding of the miscommunication and issues that occurred this night. We have put in place some things to help prevent a reoccurrence.