Destiny/sublimed

An e-mail I sent to Master sharing more of what was going on inside my head during sex recently…

So, I’ve been thinking about how to articulate the experience of crying yesterday during sex. Clearly, the pain from the one whip pushed me over into the crying territory. But the experience of having you fuck me in the ass is what pushed me into emotional territory.

As you lubed my ass, I worried about the fact that I have not stretched in a while. Would you just use your fingers? Or one of my toys? Or would you fuck me in the ass? If you did fuck me in the ass, would you go slow? Would you stop if it hurt? My mind was racing with the consequences of the possibilities…all with me just wishing you wouldn’t do anything with my ass at all.

And then you plunged into me…and it hurt…and you didn’t pull out knowing it did hurt. My mind was racing with, “Is this what I get for not keeping up my stretching?” I was going to say that out loud, but I knew that if I let any words out I would no longer be able to hold the crying in. I didn’t want to cry. I felt your weight on me, and your face pressing into my back. It was comforting and painful at the same time.

You then started moving your hips. The pain had mostly subsided, and I was relieved. As you fucked me, though, I just kept thinking how I didn’t want anal sex. I was anticipating and wanting sex with you, but I didn’t want to have anal sex with you today. I was having a very hard time reconciling those thoughts. You were fucking me – in a way – against my will. As much as I’ve asked you to break my will, I was now here in a place where my will was secondary…and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

I was desperately trying to hold in crying as you fucked me. As I sit with the feeling now, I ask myself why I didn’t let myself just cry. I realize it is because I didn’t want you to stop. As much as I was struggling with the idea that you were fucking me against my will, I didn’t want you to stop…and I didn’t want you to interpret my crying as a plea to stop.

Then you told me to turn over. As you started fucking my pussy, I went into a head space I can’t even describe. I was trying to hold back the tears, but they were a dam ready to burst. You observed that I seemed ready to cry, which I took as permission to cry. And with my next orgasm, I did…and I felt so out of control. I kept feeling like I had to explain myself, and I couldn’t. I wanted to let you know I wasn’t in physical pain, and I felt relief when you said, “You needed a release.” That gave me further permission to just let it out.

For as much as I struggled in those moments on the bed, I have felt quite calm and at peace since then, although I’m still digesting the experience. More than anything, I realize how in those moments where I was desperately holding it in and trying not to cry I was trying to control your reaction to me (i.e. not to stop) and in general to not surrender control. Seems to be a succinct summary of the larger pattern in my life of trying to hold in what’s inside in an attempt to control my outside surroundings…