It started days ago; weeks maybe. “If you come, I’ll let it be known that your function there is as a sex slave, there for anyone’s pleasure or use.”
Now I’d love to tell you a story about how I arrived at said place, was chained to a bed in a room for two days & nights, fed bread and water (and maybe an alcoholic beverage or two to take the edge off) and strange men and woman came in and used me sexually whenever & however they wished. I mean, hot image, right? But seriously, while hot in theory, the reality would soon have me gnawing my leg off out of boredom. (Thinking about it now… hmmm…maybe. Maybe not.) ;-) Anyway, the reality was almost as hot…and no legs were lost in the process. A win-win situation, in my book.
What was interesting in this whole scenario was this. Most times, W’s interactions with me are characterized by choice being taken away from me. We talk about “subjugation,” and in a very real way that is what it is. I made the choice early on to play without a safeword, I made the choice to give myself into his hands to do with as he chooses. Once that choice was made, I didn’t have to make it over and over again. I didn’t have to keep saying, “I want this.” Sometimes, I can pretend I don’t. For the most part, although I don’t always like the things he does to me, I still want him to do them to me. And when I don’t, I have my fall back. I made the choice to give the control to him so I don’t have to make those choices anymore, like it or not. And on the few times that I have resisted, he takes my submission from me, very tangibly. I am left with no choice, his hands and his ropes and his gags have taken it from me, subjugated me.
This time, he made me choose to do what he wanted, every step of the way.
The first time was when he asked me to go with him, and told me what the parameters would be. Teasingly I said, “Are you trying to scare me? Because I can always back out.” “Yes you can,” he agreed, “right up to the last minute.” I sat and looked at that email for a long time. I’d wanted, “No you can’t.” I’d wanted to be told what I could and couldn’t do, that I didn’t have a choice. But here he’d just given me one. I had to choose to go there, knowing what he was saying could, and quite probably would, happen.
I didn’t want to make that choice. I wanted the choice taken from me. Chain me to the bed, please, and send people in to fuck me….don’t make me ask for it. And saying “yes,” would certainly be asking for it, wouldn’t it? Yeah…mindfuck of the first order.
I said yes, though, didn’t I.
Then there was the time that I chose to do something he hadn’t asked me to do. I chose to do it because I knew it would please him. I chose to do something awkward and difficult and that embarrassed the hell out of me, because I knew it would turn him on. I mindfucked myself.
I’d gone with one of the others for a walk while the rest of the group was shooting video. I knew that this person wasn’t directly involved in the shoot, and so, not having any other formal function there, I took him up on the offer to go for a walk, thus giving him and myself something to do out of the way. I knew that this was someone W particularly wanted me to…please…sexually, as well. And I knew why: he knew this guy wasn’t really my type, and even by then I think he knew I didn’t want to have sex with him. He wanted to force me to have sex with someone that I didn’t want to. I knew he hadn’t said anything specific to the guy yet, and, there was part of me that hoped he wouldn’t say anything. Maybe, just maybe, he’d let it go, since he must have known how I felt. But just as W can read me like the cliched book, I get him, too, and I knew what was driving him this weekend. As I walked out to the blackberry patch I knew that W would get a charge out of me telling the guy myself, effectively forcing myself to have to do the very thing I didn’t want to. Choosing to do what he wanted me to.
This, then, was truly submission. I like most everything W does to me, and even the things that I don’t especially love, I want to do anyway. Is it submission when you want to do it anyway? When you just want to feel forced into it, but really you’ve wanted to do it all along? That’s why I consider myself a bottom, for the most part. I love the things he does to me and want him to do them to me, even when I don’t love them. ;-) But this…this I did not want to do. Plain and simple.
And I did it anyway. I told the guy that if he wanted me sexually, I had been instructed by W to serve him that way. I half hoped he would do it right there, so the rest of the weekend would be mine, but he didn’t. That came later, and when it did, again, W forced me to choose to do it. When it finally came to it, when he came to me and told me I was going to have sex with, or at least offer it to, this person, he made me choose to do it. To give him my submission. “I want you to do this,” he said. But then, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
I’ve never been put in that position before. Standing there, my mind screaming, “no no no” and my mouth saying, “okay” because I wanted to please him. It’s not the same as being tied and gagged and reaching the edge of my physical endurance, and hearing the word “aardvark” (my pretend safeword, the one I use in my head when I just want to escape) over and over in my head but knowing I have no choice but to submit because I am tied and gagged until he lets me down. Here, I had to choose to do as he asked. I had to walk over there and ask this stranger to use me sexually, because W wanted me to.
And the fucked up part of this? Standing there on the path, offering myself sexually to a stranger that I felt no particular affinity for, and yet knowing how pleased it would make W, made me wet. Soaked. Shaking and terrified and excited. And later, making that choice to actually do it, made me so fucking hot I think I must have scorched W when he climbed into bed with me that night. I wanted him so badly, I wanted to devour him, I wanted to swallow him whole. I came as hard as I ever have that night, shaking and almost crying as he thrust into me, as he devoured me, as he showed me how pleased he was with me.
I have never had my head fucked with so thoroughly. And have never felt the truth of my submission to him so deeply.