the humiliated slut..

She lies on the bed, bound and blindfolded.

There is music playing softly, loud enough to muffle the rifling of the war bag, but not loud enough to hide the click of the camera.

He is out there, taking pictures of her exposed body, the parts of her she hides from the world.
The thighs that are fatter than she likes.
The stretch marked stomach that is evidence she has given birth to children.
The breasts that are smaller than she always dreamt of having.
The scars from surgeries to correct her health.
Every mark and blemish on her body is in full view of Him and His camera.

If He was any other man, she would be feeling humiliated.

Humiliated and exposed.

Dirty and degraded.

Used and abused.

And yet... with Him, she feels loved.
Wanted.
Desired.
Trusted.
And respected.

The clicking stops.

His hands touch her body instead of the camera.

His fingers touch her, open her, expose her to His view.

He can see inside her, see the place His cock goes, His tongue goes, and His fingers enter.

He holds her open, using various toys on her clit. Playing with immeasurable patience. Taking His time, gauging her every reaction, seeing which affects her more.

She struggles mentally between the desire to relax and enjoy His ministrations, and the desire to hide from Him. The teachings of believing having someone do this to you is dirty and wrong. Her body knows which desire overrides the other. The wetness He sees tells Him that this turns her on.

He knows every inch of her body.
He has touched and played, teased and tortured.

The things they do may seem humiliating to some.
The names He calls her are not those acceptable in a public forum.
The things they do are not those her mother 'talked' to her about, prepared her for.

And yet....each and every thing they do, each and every name He calls her, each and every time He touches her, she loves Him more.

a slut in control...

I was given the opportunity this week to take control.

In the bedroom.

Sexually.

Presented with a naked male and told I had complete control to do whatever I wished.

*insert major panic attack*

Not a random male.

Sir.

I faltered. I am pretty sure I stuttered, and I am damn sure my eyes were wider than saucers.

"Ummmm, you do know that the bit about being a sub means NOT taking control right?" was the first thing out of my mouth.

"But, but.........I, ummm, errrrrrr, oh boy, sheesh" was next.

In that sixty seconds I realised that NOT taking control has become a habit I don't want to give up.
I was lost. I don't remember ever taking control like Sir was offering, and to be honest, it had no appeal. But in that instance I realised something..... It must get tiring to always be the one to make the decisions, to be the one who takes control, who plans what will happen next, with no input from a loving partner. (Moans, squeals and squeaks don't count as input, just so you know)

He reads me very well. In the past few weeks, Sir has seen close up and personal to the stress that I allow get to me occasionally, and the sassiness in me takes over. But it is an unconscious behaviour, and not one I had noticed until Sir pointed it out to me. He has become adept at taking that stress and beating it out of me with great success. I turn into Suzy Homemaker afterwards apparently. Cooking, cleaning and smiling a LOT.

But there are times when we want mostly normal adult raging hot fucking and kinky sex time, without it being to de-stress one of us, and it's those times that I am sure it becomes exhausting to always be the one to 'make the first move' and always be in control. Having said that, I have absolutely no interest in being in control and making any decisions in that scenario.

Hmmmmm impasse.


I am coming to respect the Dominants in a different way than I have before, as I suspect they often feel the same way about submissives. There is something innately awe inspiring about watching someone successfully achieve something that is a completely foreign concept, that often you cannot imagine undertaking yourself.

I don't want to take control, and therefore, am in awe of those who can and do with success.

Sir amazes me when He reads my moods, correctly judging those times I crave the need to feel control, HIS control.

But maybe, just maybe, I need to be more proactive in a submissive way in those 'in between times'