The man is torturing me. Endlessly. Over and over. And not in that good sorta way.
He’s evil, mean and horrible.
And, at the moment, I loathe him.
I’m not kidding. A huge part of me wants to stomp on his foot. Repeatedly.
*stomp, stomp, stomp*
For months now every play or sexual interaction we’ve had has been… different.
Sex has either been all about him or bordering on vanilla. Quickies. Blow jobs. Shut up and take it and what do you mean you want foreplay and aren’t aroused, do you think I care? Even rousing romps with multiple orgasms but absolutely no inkling of power exchange.
A mix of sex that has no rhyme or reason, no flow, just disconnected bits and pieces of things I either love or hate but never enough of any of it.
Play has been the same. He’s been intentionally making my brain stall and scream with the way he plays.
A little of this, a little of that, almost all stuff I strongly dislike but not enough to allow me to revel in hating it. Bit and pieces of things I’ve asked for but applied in a way I never would have asked for. A bite of this, a nibble of that and never enough to sink my teeth in, never enough of any one thing to ease… anything.
And I’m going fucking insane.
This past month - since the session with the girls and the soft and the brain melt down trying to process those things along with pain - he’s done very little at home. And yet he’s done a lot. Between tweaks and swats that barely get started before he’s done and the odd sexual pattern he’s maintained and the plain old messing with my head he’s got me damned near climbing the walls needing… something. Anything. Jesus. Anything, just so long as it lasts more than ten minutes and I can sink into it and ease the ache and itch that keeps building and building.
But, no.
It’s all a bit of this and a touch of that and never enough for me to grab on to.
So we had our monthly play party.
Yay! Room to bring out the floggers and whips. An audience for him to show off to. (I long ago came to grips with the fact that some of our best play is spurred not by my beauty and desirability and perfect submission but by an audience and his ego) Our friend R was going to be there. R the Rope Man. I’d mentioned suspension - even though it terrifies me - hoping it would get me where I needed to go if Taylor decided to do it. Even though Aunt Flo came just days before the event I was pumped and hopeful….
Oh, you know where this is going, don’t you?
Pumped and hopeful + evil fucking sadist can only = misery.
After putzing with rope for probably an hour they finally got me rigged how Taylor wanted me and hoisted up in the air in a sort of sitting swing position.
And Taylor promptly attempts to blindfold me with left over rope.
I don’t DO blindfolds. Period. It is the single thing I cannot do. I can’t. I simply fucking can’t. I panic. Can’t breathe. Can’t think. I struggle.
I struggled so much and instantly started to cry and be unable to breathe so he relented after a few attempts. Only, I think, because he was afraid I’d start thrashing enough to fall out of the suspension.
So then he hauls out a flogger. And commences wailing upon my back with zero warm up. Not just swatting at it but laying into it.
Ok. I’ve dealt with that before. I’m getting ready to settle into it, to process that particular pain.
But no.
He pulls out a single tail. (I think. You’ll have to pardon me if I get this shit wrong cuz my head was all weirded out. I’m trying to remember as closely as I can) Snap, sting, bite… I’m getting set to settle into it…
But no.
Out comes the scourge. (Heavy flogger with open o rings at the tips of each tail. It cuts) And he lays in with that, fairly heavy handedly.
There is not settling into that at this point.
Which is ok cuz he then pulls out knives.
Then sets into punching me.
Then paddles my ass.
Then hauls out a cane or something.
And so it went, the entire time. Him switching things up and fucking with my mind, me unable to get a damned thing out of anything he was doing because it was all abrupt and illogical and had no flow, no smoothness, no grace, no length or depth.
I think our entire audience was like… what the fuck is this dude doing? How boring. He can’t make up his mind. They didn’t have anything to settle into watching, either! It was all a scattered fuckaroo! I’m crying, he’s almost manically switching toys and they’re like… wtf? Right along with me.
I need to coast, to sink into some pain - any pain - for long enough that it eases my need and scratches my itch and soothes my soul and relieves the knot of tension and stress and want and longing in my head and heart.
And what I keep getting is this disjointed bullshit that only winds me up tighter. And tighter. And tighter.
And I can’t blame it on ineptitude or lack of understanding on his part.
He knows.
And he’s doing it intentionally.
And I loathe him right now.
Which, of course, just makes him grin.
That’s ok.
Soon enough I’ll be grinning to. I’ll have completely lost my mind and I’ll be sitting in a corner, grinning idiotically, blowing spit bubbles.
you’ve said before he’s bipolar and not on any medication, maybe he needs to be. I’m bipolar so I understand the erratic behavior. Without my meds, I’m nearly pychotic. I really enjoy reading your blog. Hope you get your itch scratched soon…I know what you mean about that deep desire that just builds, it’s hell to live with.
February 18th, 2008 at 5:11 pmEh…
I’d explain it away with the bipolar except that he’s doing it intentionally, gleefully.
Every time I complain he just grins and says “i know”.
Damned man.
February 18th, 2008 at 6:04 pmNo wonder you’re all disjointed!
February 18th, 2008 at 9:03 pmSometimes it’s the intentional mind-fuck that they enjoy the most. I know it sounds crazy, but I know it’s the truth. Even though I may not say anything, The Knight knows. He watches and pokes and prods. He sends me nearly over the edge then catches me mere seconds before I am hurled ass over teakettle into oblivion.
He puts me in harms way only to be the hero that he is. Sometimes I handle it well and others, not so much. Like you, I’ll soon be in a corner with spit bubbles of my own. Find me there, my friend…find me there.
February 19th, 2008 at 1:03 amI promise you we were not bored. I don’t think anyone took their eyes off of the pair of you the whole time. It was awesome!
I know it’s fucking with your head but it’s awfully cool for the rest of us. *snicker*
I can be mean from way over here. I don’t have to see you suffering.
Watching the blindfold part was absolutely fucking HOT. Even Master said that was the part that had Him turned on. Brilliant. I may even talk more about it, cuz, I loved it.
(am I encouraging Taylor, you think?
)
The flogger part had me cringing. When you said he went at it full force, you weren’t fucking kidding. Holy moly, woman. I expect you to be minus some skin (and I guess you were, huh?..lol)
And thanks to you two.. Master, last night when we were laying in bed, started talking about punching with that wistful look in his eyes. *sigh* I’m going to owe you for this I think!
February 19th, 2008 at 9:23 amHeheheheh.
No more than I’ll owe you if Taylor gets his hands on some misery sticks. (Not that I’ll actually MEAN any complaining I do.)
I’m glad it wasn’t as weird for the audience as I felt it was. I get so weirded out in my head I can’t even imagine what anyone else is thinking, yanno?
Punching is cool. I’m still getting used to it on the back but I really do love it on my butt and thighs. Especially during/before sex. It’s just so brutal and…
Yum.
February 19th, 2008 at 1:08 pmi have a question…….
February 19th, 2008 at 1:14 pmi have noticed a lot of people do this, myself included, so please, no one jump my shit for this opinion…….
i do not know if i am going to be able to explain just what it is that i want to correctly or not, but here goes.
carrie, we run along the same thought pattern a lot, so i really hope you can see where i am going…
when my head is messed up, i have learned to be pretty good at not letting others know it if i do not want them to know.
so, seeing as taylor and i are so similarly head fucked in a lot of ways, maybe he is trying to figure himself out (unmedicated as he is) before he can allow anyone else to see it. yes, even you. i have done it, too. i try to fix it before anyone else has the opportunity to try. i need to fix it myself first if it is at all possible. that is very important to me, and i think it might be for him too. after all, how you possibly hold the control over another if you cannot control yourself??? (or in my case, how can i take care of him if i cannot take care of myself?)
fortunately for me, greg has the uncanny ability to see it before i do sometimes and he can help me fix me. he has learned how to handle it, but letting him do it, even though i really know it is the best thing, it just simply goes against every fiber in me to allow someone - ANYONE - else to fix me, but me. even him….(dammit!!)
shrugs…
all that to basically say, maybe he is trying to figure/work something out in his head and keeping you hanging like this is his way of keeping you out of it until he does. i can see me doing that if put in his position….
keep you so completely wrapped up in something else keeps you from focusing on him and what he is working on…?
if i know you two as i think i do, if you notice something wrong/out of character/different/(fill it in) you will attempt to ‘fix’ him for him. i know greg does this on an hourly basis for me. i am a lot like taylor, but you are a lot like greg…minus the d/s roles.
i dunno, maybe i am delving way too deep into something that is more simplified….
shrug…..
just some food for thought……
xoxoxox
*grins*
I think maybe a little too deep, Cindy. Not that I mind deep but I’m pretty sure Taylor is just keeping me totally on edge on purpose.
He knows how to do it and is doing it well… and enjoying the hell out of it.
I’d suspect it was his bipolar manifesting itself or some sort of issue if he wasn’t sitting here grinning and laughing at me…
It’s definitely intentional. He knows that by tossing me bits of this and pieces of that but never letting me have my enjoyment of anything I’ll just grow needier and needier, edgier and edgier…
February 19th, 2008 at 2:27 pmI don’t know where he’s going with it but I’m sure when he gets there it’ll have been worth the wait.
You know, it’s funny for me. i’m such a structured individual…so fond of ritual and routine. But a mindfuck like that? Mmm. ~soft smile~
Such things are good for us, don’t you think?
elise
February 19th, 2008 at 10:08 pmHeh.
Two months ago I’d have said yes.
Now?
I’m nearing the end of my rope.
Of course, that just makes him happier….
February 20th, 2008 at 2:34 pmi was so happy to have found this blog through kaya. i remember you and Taylor from when i was “collared” to MasterDartagnan. i have been happily collared now for alittle over two years - -to someone Who really enjoys the scene real time and i am so much happier — i truly know where i belong now. glad to have found you and Taylor again, and i see not alot has changed, Taylor Sir is still evil.
slave dee
February 20th, 2008 at 10:00 pmMaster Ivoree’s property
*grin*
I’m thrilled to hear you’re happy at last.
Very good to see you, dee. Even better that you found yourself the right one.
xoxo
February 20th, 2008 at 10:18 pmCarrie
No, it’s not ineptitude. It’s that his fantasy doesn’t mesh with yours. Hence, your expectations are not met.
http://janeyruthsscreenplays.blogspot.com/
February 22nd, 2008 at 1:33 amWow! Great post. Such an evil mindfuck.
i am curious; what does punching mean?
Sweet greetz from Holland, mo
February 29th, 2008 at 2:39 pm