The day after I wrote “breaking my will” to Master, He came over. We spent the afternoon together…having sex interlaced with a deep discussion of how I felt lost and stuck.
“You still can control; you just don’t want to,” He tells me. I knew deep down what He was saying was true, but it was nothing like how I was feeling at this point in time.
I had a few orgasms asking for permission to cum each time and then He told me to cum. My body responded and came – seemingly bypassing my brain again. I started to cry and lamented out loud, “What is happening to me?”
He let me cry, providing that energetic shield of love and support to allow me to fully experience the feelings.
When I calmed down, He asked, “Do you feel damaged?”
“No…I wonder if I’m being brainwashed,” I replied. As much as I desire this, the part that worries and protects me from “being tricked” has been surfacing.
He laid on top of me as He has done so many times over the years. Not once has His weight on top of me been an issue…until that day. He was fucking me, and the weight of His body started to feel like it was crushing me. I couldn’t breathe and started hyperventilating. I felt like He was sinking into me. I was letting Him in at every level – physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually – and I panicked like I was suffocating. He got off me, and I’m crying loudly and trying to catch my breath. He caressed me, and I slowly calmed down. When I’ve finally caught my breath, and I’m breathing as normally as possible, He tells me how hard my crying made Him. Hearing that comforted me because I realized I wasn’t falling apart; I was falling right into Him.
“I feel like I’m dying,” I say.
“Do you feel like you’ll go away?” He asks.
“No, I feel like a part of me is dying.” I answer.
“Is that a good thing?”
“What will happen when that part dies?”
“Well, I don’t know if this fits your definition, but I’ll be your slave.”
He started fucking me again, and I started hyperventilating again. I asked Him not to get off me completely, although He did rise up enough not to be resting on my chest. I was trying not to push the panic away…to just let it be there.
After resting in each other’s arms for a while, we got up off the bed. He did say that once I’ve calmed down and accepted this, I’d be His slave. It was hard to believe I might be close. As much as I’ve wanted to rush the process in the past, I was getting the importance and significance of being in this moment, and my need to rush it had receded.
As He left, He told me I was now on masturbation restriction – that I would have to ask permission each and every time I wanted to masturbate. He explained how this would require forethought on my part to get permission – say before bedtime.
I smiled and for the first time in the weeks since cumming on command, I felt an inner calm.