I’ve been craving intensity lately. Sometimes, we get kind of into a routine, where we play in a certain way, without the darker, more brutal overtones that I oftentimes crave. Not that it’s not fun, and hot, and orgasm and subspace inducing, but…it’s more…hmmm…”measured,” maybe. Civilized. Less…visceral. I’m not saying he doesn’t play hard, or put me in some nasty predicaments, but what I want is…ferocity.
Part of it is health issues. Part of it the constraints of travel (even tho one of the places we traveled to was a kink event, even there that edge was somewhat muted, for some reason), part of it is a certain comfort level with each other, and part of it…
Well, part of it may be that W needs to either know that he can still play that way with me, or perhaps maybe he even needs to be pushed into it a bit. It’s easier not to go there for him, maybe. And since I love it all, perhaps I make it easy for him to stay in that comfortable place. I’m not sure. I do know that days and nights like this, and this, and this, or mornings when he drags me out of bed, throws me down and beats me up, or chokes me or slaps me as he fucks me into oblivion, haven’t been happening lately, and I miss it. I miss the edge, the ferocity…the danger, if you will. The good news is that he and I have been talking about it, trying to figure out how to balance that kind of play, which we both want and need, with who we are to each other as a boyfriend and girlfriend, as play partners, not just as someone who gets things done to her and the person who does them (as hot as that concept is.)
So how do you find and play on that edge, after years of being together? Personally, and I hate to say this because I am big on taking responsibility for your own pleasure, I do think that is in large part the Top’s responsibility. Since he instigates and directs most of the play that happens, it’s up to him to set the tone. On the other hand, it’s important that he knows that his partner wants that kind of play. That it’s okay to go there. Sometimes, even a Top can forget that.
So…I reminded him. I gave him the “green light,” so to speak. Actually I waved a big red flag at him, hoping, praying, he’d take the cue.
Hell…this is W. Did I honestly think he’d miss that cue? That he wouldn’t take advantage of it? He may have allowed himself to slip into a comfortable place, but he still wants to play this way. That’s what first drew us together. Oh yeah, he saw that flag waving, grabbed hold of it, and ripped it from my hands. He grabbed me when I walked in the door, tied my hands behind my back and shoved a ball gag in my mouth, then propelled me down to the cellar where he tied me, beat me with a heavy leather strap and a cane, and then fucked me from behind, still tied, standing there with my jeans and panties around my knees. Then he yanked my panties and jeans up, and, with my hands still tied, pushed back up the stairs, stuck a roll of paper towels into my hands, pulled the ballgag out of my mouth and shoved me out the door to go back to work.
All without having said more than ten words to me.
I was dazed, and dazzled…and so fucking wet I made a spot thru my jeans on the seat of my car.
Afterwards–well, the next day–we talked about it a bit. About how hot it made us both, and how he misses play like that. And he harked back to this thing he always says that both tears my heart out and pisses me off. Because we just proved that wasn’t true. It’s this: “If we had stayed not ‘in-love-with-each-other’ play partners, we’d have been able to play like this a lot more.”
I can’t tell you how I hate that. Because it is so patently wrong. I wouldn’t dream of playing like that with someone I didn’t trust implicitly. It’s not not knowing him that makes it hot. It’s him that makes it hot. But he has to do it. I can tell him I want it until I’m blue in the face (or red), I can drop hints here and ask him all I want. It’s still his responsibility to make it happen. I can’t tie myself up, slap myself, throw myself down, piss on myself or find all the places in my head to fuck me with. All I can do is tell him I want–need–those things. And show him that we can play that way. All he has to do is to do it.
It looks like he “red” me loud and clear.
For more of pics of this scene, and W’s take on it, go to Bondage Demons, click on “What’s New” and view the feature “Lunch Break” in Jade’s Collection. (Membership necessary for this feature, but you can see many others that are free.)
Grrr…
rare and raw! – love it!
Soom,
“Raw.” That’s the word I was looking for. Yes. I want, I need, to feel that, to feel stripped bare, raw. Not always, but every once in awhile. Or hell, okay, maybe a little more often than that. 😉
In thinking about the follow-up discussion that W and I had after this, we both touched on the fact that we have the opportunity to have the best of both worlds: the “raw” scenes, like this, and those others I mentioned in my post, were, and scenes that are just as deep and true, but more about connecting with each other. I would not give up either one. We just have to figure out a way to integrate both effectively.
Synchronicity. I want the extremes suddenly. Maybe it’s something in the air?
Perhaps. I had several messages on Twitter from ppl saying something similar. The change in the season? 😉