I'm baaaaaaack!

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

No Means Maybe

Note: Tomorrow's post will be a response to LunaKM's question for March! Thanks for asking, Luna!

As my Sir has suggested, we've been having a rough time with sleep lately. The other night, though, we were extremely tired and went to bed at the same time. As I undressed for bed, he touched me here and there, and when I climbed into bed, he asked if I was interested in a bit of fun before sleep.

I emphatically responded that all I wanted was sleep, and snuggled up against him.

Sir put my hand on his cock and asked if I'd touch it for a few minutes, and I obliged. He stroked his hands along my body, still thoughtful. You see, he knows that I am generally less inhibited when I'm sleepy, and frequently more open to suggestion. He pressed his lips against the top of my head and spoke low.

He said, "I love that, even as tired as you are, I could still make you do it." There was a moment's pause as he waited to see if I would respond. When I didn't, he continued. "Can't I?"

"Yes." I don't think I hesitated, or thought about the weight of my answer. It was the right response; the one he'd accept, and it was true.

He made a contented "hmm"ing noise and was quiet for a little bit while I touched him. I held him in my hand without moving, as my brain pondered shutting off. It wasn't until he spoke again, to point it out, that I realized he'd gotten hard. I mean, I felt it happening and all, but my attention was so fuzzy that I wasn't aware. I took my hand away self-consciously.

"Do you like that I can make you?" There was the slightest hint of amusement in his voice.

I took a breath and tried to make my tone as conversational as possible- deflection-mode: activated! "Yeah, I kinda do. I mean, not at the time... but it's really hot to think about later." I quickly realized that my deflectors were, perhaps, malfunctioning and tried to backpedal some. I don't remember what he said, but I do know he wasn't having any of it. He cut me off in short order.

"Mmhmm, you're such a slut. You like being forced." Without waiting for me to finish my protest about how that wasn't what I meant, he turned it into a question. "Don't you?" It's misleading to call that a question, because it wasn't, really. It was a power play, which automatically puts me on the losing end. By then I was alert enough to recognize that if I answered "wrong" I would only escalate things. I tried frantically to think of a way to defuse the situation. He repeated the question impatiently, so I tried to draw out my answer.

"Yes, but-"

"You'll masturbate about this later. Won't you?" That time, he let it hang in the darkness between us.

"Yes," I whispered.

"Get your mouth on my cock." Sir wore the power openly on his voice, and it sent shivers dancing across my skin. When I didn't move quickly enough for his liking, he wound his fingers in my hair and moved me himself, despite my protests that I was doing what he wanted.

His cock stretched my jaw painfully, but I made the conscious decision in that moment to submit to his desires. I still felt conflicted, but I recognized that I needed to honor his mastery over me. I was both willing and unwilling, and that made me wet.

Once my internal conflict was settled, I was compliant. I stopped struggling against his grip on my hair, against the things he was telling me, and against him overall. I made sure I was enthusiastic, though I still stumbled over myself when he prodded me to admit to that loathed name; "cumbucket," which almost always gives me pause- internally, if nothing else.

He alternated between letting me suck his cock and actively fucking my face and, occasionally, making me jerk his cock. I was so caught up in it that the rest of this was a blur to me. I didn't have much conscious thought left.

When he told me what to say, I said it.

When he told me to come, I came.

After he came, he pulled me to him lovingly and held me for a while. Then he went to get cleaned up and I fell asleep.


The title of this entry is not meant to excuse or make light of rape. It is only intended to reflect what happened that night and how my relationship works. If, at any time, I had used my safeword (I have a nonverbal signal I use for when I can't speak, as well as the traffic light system for when I can), Sir would have stopped immediately. I was reluctant, but I never withdrew my consent- not even in my own mind. I am glad he was able to do it, actually, because it isn't something that happens frequently, nor could it. Sir protects me and cares for my emotional and physical well-being. I am his wife, first and foremost, and he loves me. We do not condone rape.

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