Wednesday, April 25, 2012

His Fucktoy...

Driving home from Sir's last weekend, I passed the coffee shop where I had coffee for the first time with my ex-Dom. We had met elsewhere initially, but the rain had meant that venue wasnt going to work, so we drove to a coffee shop close by.
At the exact moment I realised where I was, and that I was almost stopped in traffic right outside the door, a song came on the radio.
It is one I have listened to many times, and love the words too, it speaks to me in a way not a lot of songs do, hits a spot inside if you will call it that.
This song has parts that could be word for word how I feel, some parts not so much, but I didn't write the bloody thing, so that's to be expected.
I am not going to pick out the parts that I identify with, nor the parts that don't mean as much, I will leave that for another day perhaps, and possibly whoever reads this has someone in their past that this song could have been written about, or knows someone like it.
Sir and I discussed a few different things today, stuff about the past, about the future, about the present, and I mentioned to Him that I had heard this song at the exact moment I went past the coffee shop where I had had that first meeting, I played Him the song while He held me in His arms, standing in the lounge.
It is almost like a closure for me that I hadn't had until now.
I never got a last chance at goodbye, once we came back from our trip away, I found out I was sick, and before I knew it goodbye was said....online only of course.
I guess in my mind I always thought there may have been a coffee, a hug and one last goodbye and wishing each other well, but there seems to have been too many things said to make that viable.

Probably more to the point, I feel like it is no longer needed either.
I have gotten rid of the things in the box tied with a bow.
I have sat and thought a lot about the past lately, I am not sure why it is now, life is quite busy for me, it is not like I sit here with time on my hands and nothing to do.

Within the first few months of me starting on my journey, I had spazzed out more than once, and looking back on it, I was fucked up.
Not fucked up bad, but definitely not my normal usual self.
I would cry a helluva lot more than normal. I didn't cope with things that I normally would have, and most importantly, I put up with things that I would have told anyone else to go fuck themselves over.

I am not saying I was treated badly.
I have no regrets.
I learnt a lot and those things I will forever be grateful for.
But I allowed myself to be treated in a way that I could no longer do.
It was never EVER without respect...this is in no way shape or form an attempt at disrespecting my ex-Dom, he made it crystal clear right from the very beginning, before we ever met how this would be.
I accepted his terms and conditions and I did so without coercion, without pressure and knowing the truth about how this would be.

Having said that, I think back to accusing him of making me feel like his fucktoy, that I was something he had sitting on his shelf, to be taken down and played with at his beck and call.
Sir has a pet name for me, something He takes great pleasure into whispering in my ear at different times in that oh so alpha tone of voice that makes you know exactly where your place is in His life....
I am His Fucktoy.
It is one of many words He calls me, it goes hand in hand with slut, whore, bitch and variations thereof.
But it is when He calls me Fucktoy that I melt inside.
It is one of those words that I used to hate, and now I love.
I am His Fucktoy, but the difference is, I don't ever feel like He places me on a shelf to be used when convenient. I am there to be used when and wherever he chooses, and the other times, I am content in His arms, knowing I am loved.


Now I sit here with a very sore arse, and a tender cunt, having today learnt the difference between being fisted and being fist fucked, and knowing that Sir was the first man to have ever cum up my arse.
Psychologically that was a feeling I never expected. Sir has given me many firsts, but knowing He came up my arse and was the first person to do that, make me smile in a way I never expected.
I ineffectively tried to explain it to Him at the time, but I am fairly sure it is something unexplainable, almost like giving Him a virginity of some kind.

Today was not the beginning of a journey, nor the end of another, but it was a day I will remember for a long time.

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