To strip out of lingerie, slowly touching. To fuck myself with the wand, to make myself squirt. The bed had a puddle. To orgasm over and over again. To take my toy and fuck myself, to edge myself, to finger myself. To watch him play. To play while he does. To orgasm with him.
I was a sweaty, drenched mess resentful of squirting, of so many orgasms. Overwhelmed.
These were the notes to finish the punishment post – which I never did finish as we (of course) broke up shortly thereafter. It was our longest reconciliation, and our final break up, before we finally reconciled the fact that we were no longer meant to be together.
We jumped right into the power dynamics almost every time we reconciled, but this was different, this punishment – as it was truly a punishment. I dislike so many aspects of this scene:
To perform on command
To masturbate in front of another
To push past one orgasm towards another
To dress sexy
To be told what to wear
To watch me over the phone live
I won’t finish this post either, as this is a purging, but it was incredibly fucking hot. And horrible. A great punishment for failing at a task.
But this isn’t just a purging, it’s a reflection also. My ex husband knew me so well that sometimes that’s what I ache for. He knew what was pushing my limits, how to control me, how to give me a look that could silence me, the tone of his voice that I simply could not argue with, what my limit was, and when I was hitting peaks.
As I explore power dynamics: both with Mr. Texas and The Wanderer, I miss this awareness that my ex husband had. I miss the absolute knowledge to control me. The Wanderer I heed to simply because it’s our dynamic, because I sense when he holds back for my sake and I am grateful, but also slightly intimidated that he does hold back a bit at times (yay for not always now though, I survived one time he didn’t). Mr. Texas is learning, but it is slow, as it will be with another, as my body and words and my actions are often at odds in pleasure and pain. I do not always feel the need to obey him, sometimes truly debate if I should (because I want him to grow confident in dominanting me and that’s what we negotiated so how horrible if I didn’t) or I should not (because he’s pushing me far more than he realizes, or doesn’t know my exact limits, or can’t read me so beautifully). He’ll get there – this is all new to him.
Mimir got it very quickly, but Mimir has a true gift in the BDSM realm of being able to observe, to withhold, to read people, to push people, to listen, to know them. He is incredibly intelligent and has such a background in kink that his bag of tricks never ceased to amaze me. Even with a bag of tricks, and a breadth of knowledge on things, I have nowhere near the patience nor the skill to read people the way that Mimir did.
The way that my ex husband could read me.
Mr. Texas has no advantage to him other than me as a bottom – who knows that he is capable and the love to be patient.
But how I crave, how I ache, for what my ex and I had. If I have to debate power dynamics, they don’t feel very powerful to me. It’s a choice I am making, a request I am granting; though I know that it is and has always been a choice – it felt more instinctive, allowed me to get out of my whirlwind thoughts and simply obey.
Neither of my current partners are capable of this dynamic – The Wanderer does not even have the time nor the inclination to pursue it at this point in our relationship, and my darling Mr. Texas and I are exploring it – not always with success, but more with persistence. We at least have physically forcing going for us – that’s hot.
Though I sometimes ache, sometimes crave, the power dynamics that force me with just a presence.