Do It Rough

I'm writing this post cause he told me to. Not cause I want to. And that intro right there probably tells a lot about how I feel about the whole thing. I'm doing it not cause I want to, but cause he's telling me to.

Last night, in the blink of an eye he switched from vanilla conversation to sadist. Now you're saying "Well yeah Sin, we've seen the sadist before. We thought you liked him." I hear you.

This is different. Usually the sadist is warm, sweet, concerned. Okay it can be kind of faux but I really feel like he's on my side, my protector, my lover during lots of those sadistic encounters. I feel like he is supremely engaged and all over me.

Last night it felt very very disconnected. Jeez I don't even know if that's the right word. We've already had a debate about terminology this morning, where he says he was direct and I say stern, cold, disconnected. And I do think that's what he was going for. At first I thought he was mad about something. We've been discussing some stuff this week that has had me pushing him, challenging him (yeah that's a change) and he isn't crazy about those roles for us. He said he wasn't mad. That he just wanted obedience. Okay. I can do that, right?Just do what he says.

"Play with your nipples. No, not like that. Pinch them. Twist them. Rough. Rougher. Better."

"Now let your sex go with it. Start giving it to me."

He asks me questions, humiliating questions. He'd asked me earlier if I wanted a butt plug up my ass. The question came by text message to my phone. Totally out of context when it came, it shocked me a bit, and alarmed me. And no I didn't. Either then, when the message came, or last night when he reiterated the offer. I really didn't. Thanks.

He's pushing on me. Playing with his power. Making very very clear he's in charge. He kind of likes that I don't really want what he's doing with me. There's more power there, isn't there? Sometimes he loves making me want it, crave it. Sometimes, like last night, it's more about knowing he can do it even if I don't want it.

He considers the possibilities of two sets of clamps before deciding on the mean little tweezers. He puts them on me, right first, and then left. And then he looks at me for a while.

What was I thinking while he did it? Maybe that I didn't want it? Or was I trying to want it? Obedience and submission and wanting to want what he wants all jumbled up inside me. Pain. A little anxiety. Confusion. Lots of that.

"Play with your nipples again like you were doing before I clamped them."

"No slut, really play. Rougher I said. Pinching them. Pulling. Yes, like that."

Pain for me, playing (playing!) with my nipples. Trying to give him what he wants without tearing my nipples off. He has me pull them and they fucking hurt; THEY HAVE CLAMPS ON THEM. So I'm trying to protect myself and give him what he wants

And he's ... removed, disconnected. I have no idea what he's thinking. No idea why he's doing this. It feels not like sex, but like a lesson.

"Tell me how you feel," he says.

I want to say I hate it, but I don't. I don't say it and I don't really hate it. I don't understand it, and I'm a bit freaked by that because everything is intensified in power relationships and everything is intensified when there's pain. So my confusion and anxiety are magnified. This is not what I want, this is what he's having me do. I can do this.

I say that I feel pain. That I feel used, owned.

He makes me thank him for giving me this pain. He knows that I don't want it. Making me thank him? Mind fuck.

He asks me if I have missed it lately. I think he wants me to say yes, but I don't. The truth, which I tell him, is that I haven't missed it. Maybe at first I did, but after that my desire for it, and for sex too just kind of goes away. I don't think as much about either of them, but especially not pain.

He has me play rough with my nipples again. Twisting the nipples, the clamps.

Then he has me touch my clit. Do I want that at that point? I don't know. I'm lost, confused. I just want to know what he wants, to do what he wants. And he is probably soaking up the power in my confusion and earnest desire to please him. Or he thinks I'm being reluctant and bratty and is determined to break me. Or he's getting off on the pain and making me hurt myself for him. Who the fuck knows.

He makes me play with myself more. Touching my cunt. Turning myself on now. He calls me names. The names are a trigger for me during sex now. I want them. They turn me on. Yes he shapes me.

He gets me turned on so much, and then he tells me that if I want more of that, of my hands between my legs, I have to hurt my nipples again, twist them again, the clamps still on. But it's kind of a game, a deal. I have to do it, because he wants it. I can say no I don't want more, but he's probably going to keep on hurting me, and I do want it. Sex. And I want to please him. It's a jumble. I do as he says and twist my nipples again. Pain.

"Beautiful," he says.

And then, "Come on, twist those fucking nipples. Show me you want this."

"Now play with your cunt again."

He offers me saliva on my fingers. If I ask him, beg him for it. I pass. I want it but, god it's all such a mind fuck. I touch my cunt. I'm soaked. Swollen. Close.

"I think it's time to stop," he says.

He has me tell him again how I feel.

Pain. Sexed. Manipulated. Used. I tell him all that. Is it what he wants? I don't know.

He asks me if I want anything. I want to cum but I don't say that. I say that I want whatever he wants to give me. Why do I say it that way? A last shred of pride? Or maybe I think it's what he wants to hear. The whole thing is a mind fuck.

He persists. Says "Ask. If you want something ask me for it."

Yeah he wants to hear it, feel it. And I want it. I just don't want to ask. I hate begging, though I've learned to, and I'm past the point where I normally care, but the mood is so strange. I feel powerless. Robbed of power.

I ask to cum. I ask to touch and cum. I elaborate a little. On what and how and why.

He says "Masturbate and I'll decide while I watch you. Make yourself as desirable as possible as I watch."

I'm aware not of the sex of it, of the opportunity to please him and turn him on. I'm aware of the humiliation. Of him trying to humiliate me and make me crawl.

I focus on the sexuality of it. I do want to cum. God I want to cum. I wonder if he'll let me. Honestly I don't worry about the last order, to make myself desirable for him. He'll think I am or he won't.

He's turned on too. I can tell now.

He asks me if I want to hurt my nipples again. I say no. I think he's going to make me again anyway, he lets that possibility hang there as a threat for a while. But he doesn't.

And then he stops me. Has me take the clamps off. Omg those fucking things hurt so much coming off. And it's like taking a bandaid off, you can tear it off in one move, pain intense and immediate, or ease it off slowly, hoping it won't hurt and sometimes it doesn't but last night so much pain. Making me want to cry.

And then he says "Now play with those pretty nipples. Rough. The same way you have all night."

And I think that at least the clamps are off and it will hurt less but it doesn't. It's terrible. And I cry then, as he makes me hurt myself for him. I'm crying from pain. It feels like forever, but really it's short. But the pain was overwhelming.

And then he stops me and makes me tell him how much I love him, and how much I miss his hands on my body.

I do tell him. I say the words he demands. But what am I thinking as I say I love you? Probably about survival. And that it's almost over. Maybe I'm hoping he won't tell me not to finish myself after he goes.

But that's next.

"No more touching tonight."

And "I love you little girl."

And then he's gone.

And I'm alone. Kind of lost. Baffled and confused by the whole thing. Lacking the connection that I crave from it. Power for him. Pain for me. Sex. But no satisfaction. Sexed for the power of it.

This morning, more of the same. He asked me if I wanted to cum and told me to ask him for it if I did. So I asked. I didn't crawl, or beg, but I asked. He said no. That I didn't really seem to want it enough. I hadn't really made the case for my desire strongly.

And told me to write and post this.