Motivation

Despite being aroused by various types of fears, it's not an effective motivator for me. It actually tends to cause me to shut down when I'm trying to succeed. This was made incredibly apparent to me yesterday when my Sir took a new tactic with me. I had a good day and I wasn't falling behind or anything, but he adopted a more nurturing, parental attitude. He held me and petted my head while whispering how proud he was of me, and how I'd done so well. I confessed a slip-up I'd made, and he pulled me close, smiled, and said he forgave me. It was a freaking revelation!

He called me 'pet,' which was his first nickname for me. I felt treasured and safe and so very pleased in my ability to make him happy. I wanted to be his pet, and make him proud, and do well. I wasn't worried about my performance so much as I was worried about his happiness. And even though I was tired and a bit grouchy last night when he told me to suck his cock, I wanted to put his pleasure above what I wanted at that moment. His needs were... supreme.

(If that makes me sound like I'm generally a selfish person, it's probably true; more than I'd like to admit. I have a tendency to be extremely protective of my own needs/desires, and that's wrapped up in my learned behaviors from my psychological baggage.)

I showed my appreciation as best I could, worshiping his cock with my mouth and my attention. I sucked it as deeply as I could take it, while he thrust into my mouth and held my head in place. His hands stroked gently through my hair and his responses to my ministrations were gratifying. I wanted to give him even more. I sucked until my jaw ached, and made myself continue even after it was unbearable. I stroked him with my hand when his girth became too much, resting my jaw for mere moments before taking him in my mouth once more. I was his pet. I wanted to please.

It was magnificent.