Using and not caring

I liked to be ‘used’. Whatever the dom wants to do to me. Whatever excites him.

I want to be on the receiving end. Being used.

That’s my fantasy.

On one hand, I might say that I want the dom to not care about me. Whatever he wants to do.

But that is not true. There are lots of negotiations that went behind the scenes. There are lots of questions asked. The Dom asked questions to find out my limits.

The Dom will use his experience and skills to find out how far he can inflict. How far I can take. He will care whether I will climax if he wants me to. He will care and stop me from climaxing, if he wants to.

He will be also carefully observing me whether I have reached the limit as discussed or not. In terms of pain, the Dom will need to carefully observe and care for me to truly understand and stop, just before the limit. So that I won’t need to use a safeword. He will need to care whether I’m not using the safeword when I should have, and whether to stop.

Acting like not caring involves a lot on Dom’s side.

My fantasy about the Dom not caring and acting evil (?) requires a lot on the Dom’s side.

That’s why I need to have a Dom who I can trust. Someone who can dominate me as if he doesn’t care, and will excite me.

Acting as if not being cared for requires trust from me as well. I can’t have a trauma (or discuss it properly) that may be invoked by the Dom not caring. And the Dom must be comfortable that I would cry out if something that may hurt me, occurs. That I am OK to be treated as if I am not cared.

If we don’t discuss enough and if I allow the Dom to truly not care for me, that means that I am using the Dom as a tool to destruct me.

That’s not what I want.

I want ‘not to be cared for’ or ‘used’ by the Dom who truly cares about me. Someone who I trust.

Key

I lost my key somewhere.

Somewhere, sometime when I decided to be strong. When I decided that I would live alone and independent.

I couldn’t let my key be hostage by a man.

From my verandah, looking at the river flowing, I let the key fall off my hand. I saw it going down. I saw it disappear through the waves.

A bird told me the released keys would eventually reach the graveyard. Not sure when, though. Some take days. Some take years. Some take an eternity. Some just decide to decay before arriving at the graveyard.

I met you. I wanted the key so that I can feel my heart. I wanted the key so that it will tell me that I can open up my heart.

Where is the key?

I went to look for my key. In the graveyard of keys. The sea of keys. The keys to so many hearts.

I was in all fours. Trying to find my key.

I cannot remember what the key looked like.

I cry and cry. I can’t remember what the key looked like. Bronze, gold, silver, rust metal?

Did it decay in the river? River of feelings? is this a punishment for throwing away the key? The key that I should’ve held on to.

What’s the worth finding the key? It may be rusted. My door may be rusted. Will it open the door? Really?

I cried like a kid that I can’t find the key.

Then you reach your hand towards me. Me, confused, take the hand.

You open my fist which was so closed tightly. I didn’t even notice that I closed the fist.

A key is dropped on my palm. A key. Rusted, and hardly in the shape of a key.

I tilt my head in confusion and look at you.

‘This won’t…’

You stop me. You look confident that it is the key to me.

I hand back the key to you. You look surprised.

‘Will you open it for me?’ I ask.

‘Sure’ You say with a confident smile.

What will it feel like when the key clicks?

Maybe I’m not a good sub

I’m just exhausted. I was asked not to do something, and I couldn’t help doing it.

It’s my weak mind. It’s my brain that keeps on thinking ‘this should be OK’. (and come up with all the reasons that I can defy what was asked….the issue is that the reasons aren’t communicated to the other person).

I wish I was someone who can patiently wait. But I can’t. I keep on thinking there must be something that I can do (when in fact there might not be any).

I wish I was stronger.

I wish I was a stronger person who can have confidence in myself. Confident that the other person has chosen me. I just have to wait.

I can help others when they are struggling but I can’t help myself.

And I cry because I can’t stop myself from doing stupid things that will worsen the situation.

I thought I was a stronger person.

Pain

I like impact plays….cane…..crop…..belt…..and finally hands, which I like the most. It makes me excited when I walk to a chair or bed. Scared but aroused.

I can feel you watching my every step. I take slow steps, not because I want to. But my brain and my body are telling me something different. I’m excited but scared of the pain that you will inflict.

Cane and crop – if used in full force, I may not be able to tolerate them.

I bite the pillow, sheets, blankets….or my lip or hands if I need to. I grab blankets so hard. So that I can tolerate it. Tolerate it so that you will get excited. So that you will look at my face, the face with tears, makeups all gone and ugly. So that you will look at my face approvingly. I concentrate on my breath. I concentrate that my hands and feet are glued. So that I won’t move. So that I won’t cover myself. But it’s pure pain. A challenge by you vs my will. I want to throb. So that you will wipe my tears when finished.

I like the belt.

They feel it is part of you. Even the belt. I get excited when you take off your belt and use it. It’s part of you which wrapped around you till the moment before. It makes me think about males and females. I don’t wear pants, so I don’t wear a belt. Even if I do, your belt is different. Thick and masculine. The belt won’t damage me. It’s a pain that I can still tolerate. If done correctly, I will be building up the pleasure with pains. You use the belt because it doesn’t damage me. Every flick, every swing, you make me realise that I love this pain. The pain inflicted by you.

It’s different from a cane or a crop. It tells me that I like the pain. It tells me that you use a belt just because you can. It tells me that I like the pain you inflict. So much so that my pleasure builds up. My mind isn’t filled with pain. I can still follow your move, your breath and the belt. You want me to tell you that I love the belt. I love you who controls the belt. Inflicting me pleasure and pain. Fire flicks on my back, breast, ass, thigh. I love the bruise that will be left for days.

I love your hand.

The deep pain ignites deep below the skin. I love that your hands get warmer and hotter. I love that you want to hurt me although your hands hurt as well. I love the feeling of your hot hands when you touch my undamaged skin after the spanking. It’s sad that your hands won’t give me bruises to last for days. I love the fact that the first impact will give me pleasure. Pleasure more than pain. I cannot help feeling the pleasure deep inside.

I love the fact that you are closer to me. I can feel your breath getting shorter and shorter. I can feel your cock getting harder. You do not spare me anything. Your full swing. Your power directly trebling through my skin. For some reason, I like the intimacy of being slapped on my face. Maybe because I can see you. Maybe because you will be so close by.

I like the pain because it reduces me. I like the pain because it gives me a shortcut to another world….into a dreamy world where I am reduced to being your sub.

Fire (repost)

Note: this is a repost of the earlier post of today. But different.

So I can’t climax at the moment. No toys, favourite videos, novels, sexts won’t work.

I didn’t use to, so it should be OK, doesn’t it?

But I’m not. I can’t go back to the time and place when I didn’t care about sex and climaxing even if I didn’t want to.

I’m exhausted from what has happened, and from my work which is crazily busy. I shouldn’t be like this.

My sex drive is back after 5+ years.

I want sex. I want dangerous things. I want to be stupid. I just want to forget for a moment everything that is happening. I want to cry, scream and pass out.

I’ve been burnt once. I don’t care if it is stupid. It’s like my self-destruction. Not sure why my self-destruction is linked to sex. It’s probably because it’s something I used to despise.

Now that I don’t despise sex, why is it still leading to self-destruction?

I’m trying to think about what I did before to keep myself safe.

Escort? Nope, I know it doesn’t work at all. Being careful who to choose? But that didn’t work at all the last time I had this urge. I didn’t get killed, so it was OK?

Contacting past partners? I met them but I said no to both of them. lol. Yes, they can give me safe sex but I know I have no intention of going back to them, so I’m not going to. I wasn’t also happy with their sex. Also, until he says it’s completely over, I won’t be. Female? Nope. For some reason, I want a cock now.

I’ve opened up my version of Pandora’s box. If I didn’t know the pleasure of climaxing, I wouldn’t have minded not climaxing. Didn’t care at all, to be honest.

However, by texts and commands, he was able to make me climax to some extent. I’m sure that they weren’t strong as the real climax I would’ve felt if I had BDSM and sex with him. Because I do still stop right before I fully come. It’s still scary to let myself go. I just can’t.

That ‘shameless sex’ issue pops up. I can’t let go of myself completely.

Albeit giving me only a smaller climax, I did.

Now, my body is wanting to fully climax. My body is wanting sex. Wanting to see how it feels. The last sex was forcible sex so I pushed down all libidos after that.

Now it has come back and it’s so painful to push it down.

It has come back, and I’m wanting to just exhaust myself with crazy sex.

I don’t know how to extinguish the fire within me. There is fire smouldering which is waiting to be ignited.

I was so close to picking someone on Tinder, but didn’t. I was so close to picking up someone at a bar, but I didn’t. Uh…..I accidentally came across my exboss wanting a threesome with a blindfold on a girl with his girlfriend. Safe but no way. Lol (I’m not joking…..I knew he had a dark sense of humour about sex but finding him on Fetlife? lol)

Find someone who isn’t interested in sex but is a sadist? Immerse myself in pain? Feel the feeling of violation?

Just because I won’t be able to climax and extinguish this fire if it’s only vanilla sex.

Just because I won’t be able to climax unless I can fully let go.

Just because I don’t know how to fully let myself go.

I cry and cry wanting to be with someone.

Wanting to be fucked.

Haven’t I hurt myself by not eating? How much do I want to punish myself?

Dreaming

Just as he hypnotised me….

No, of course, I would’ve done so anyway without hypnosis.

I dream about what we played online, his fuck, his BDSM session every night.

Because it makes my body hot.

I’ve stopped touching myself like I used to.

Because I’m crying in my dream. Not from pain or pleasure.

I’ve stopped because I can’t climax and it makes me very sad.

Makes me feel like I am a failure. Something is lacking from me. I can’t feel it.

Why? I ask myself. I don’t need to be sad. It’s just back to me who used to be before I met him. Just back to square one. But somehow it feels worse than how I was before.

Maybe because I was able to come with his command. I needed that command to let myself go.

I shouldn’t have dreamt of it.

When I can’t climax, I remember all the words my partners said to me. Something is wrong with you…. All girls came with me…. You don’t trust me enough… You should go to a doctor…It’s you not me… etc.

I shut my eyes.

I shouldn’t have dreamt of it.

I want to feel sexy. I used to never feel that I was sexy. Why was I able to believe for a moment that I ‘may’ be sexy? How did I even think that I am sexually attracted to another person?

My fucking mistake. I thought I would never dream like this. So that I won’t be disappointed.

I tell myself. It’s OK. I’m just back to who I am.

But I’m in fucking hell right now. I want to go back to the time and place I didn’t know how to climax.

Because I won’t long for something I don’t know that exists.

Selfish

I’m selfish. But not selfish enough.

I want him. Although he got bored of me. He said I was a chore. I’m so selfish that I don’t care what he says, but I just want him. I want him now.

But I couldn’t say it often to him. How much I wanted him.

I didn’t want to be a burden or cause stress to him. I couldn’t be selfish enough. I wasn’t selfish when I should’ve been.

I wanted to fit into his life. Tried to mould my life into his schedule, which caused a lot of stress for me. But I still wanted to so that he wouldn’t stress. It’s what I wanted to do but was difficult. He didn’t tell me to do it, and I’m sure he would’ve adjusted his schedule if necessary but I wanted to do so.

As I said in other posts, I should’ve been selfish earlier. Look at me, I’m not an online virtual persona. I want to feel you offline. I need more attention. Talk to me on phone. I so wanted to scream so many times. But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

If the lack of my scream meant that he felt that I was not loving him, I made a mistake.

If the lack of my scream meant that he felt I was happy as is, I made a mistake.

I couldn’t.

I couldn’t for the person I so wanted to submit and wanted to love in my way. I wanted to make this seamless and issueless as much as possible. I cared too much about him than care for myself. He had so many stressors in life and I couldn’t be another in his life. He had to sort it out first and that was more important than me.

Then, when it is all over, I still want him.

I am selfish but was selfish too late.

Bleeding

I’ve revived some posts which were in drafts, and then I am also writing new posts. Imagine these in texts. No, I won’t do it, but I still wrote long texts.

Writing seems to make me think better. However, even if that is the case, I sometimes have issues expressing myself in English. There are so many delicate words that exist in the language spoken in the country I came from to express feeling. I couldn’t find the complete translation of those words.

The same thing happened when I was thinking about BDSM, and when he asked me to explain how I felt discussing the scene. I couldn’t just explain it. Whatever words I used to explain to him how I felt were just ‘not right’. It felt like I was expressing my emotions like a primary/elementary school kid. Too simplified.

I’m sure that my English vocabulary is not enough. I don’t know how to express it, but I have no issues reading anything in English, as most of the time I can figure out the meaning of a word without thinking about it, from the context in which it was used.

However, interestingly I reached for the dictionary often when I was communicating with him. Either to understand the word he used or try to find a correct word to express what I wanted to. Mostly to find a word that fits what I wanted to say. Communicating with him, I often had times that I wanted to exactly express what I wanted to say in English. Oh let’s add British English and American English differences. lol I grew up with American English, having lived in the States.

Bleeding inside this week. Crying this week and still crying. Crying won’t do anything. And I usually do not cry when there is any break-up. I hate to be emotional. I wanted to be strong and independent. Not leaning on someone at all. I pride myself on it.

With him, everything is an exception. I cried in front of him when talking with him a few months back and I was surprised that tears were flowing. I’ve been crying all this week.

I can’t believe how much I leaned on him emotionally. I didn’t want to make someone special like this. I acted all my life that I am strong and I can live alone. Left family behind.

He said ‘let me think’. Well, I know that there is almost no chance but I keep on hoping. I feel so stupid.

Usually, my stress will be filled with eating. This time, I haven’t been eating at all. Just drinking teas. I know I’m in the blink of collapsing and passing out but I just can’t. I’m glad that I’m still working from home as I can’t walk around and I will fall down if I walk.

I haven’t been sleeping well.

If I bleed and bleed, will there be a time that there is nothing more to bleed?

I’m surprised that I can get this emotional.

I’m surprised that I still remember the warmth of your hand when it grabbed me for a second.

I’m surprised that I can long for someone this much.

Waiting for my tears to run out. I never thought I could cry this much.

I knew I couldn’t block him. Because I would’ve unblocked. My willpower isn’t that strong.

I asked him to block, acting like it’s nothing. Almost teasing and provoking him to do it.

When it was done….I thought I can live with it…but I wasn’t.

Shell

I received a package from China. My impulse buy. Beautiful corsets and lingerie. I guess….I might admire them for a day but I might actually throw them away. Very difficult to look at them at the moment.

To be honest, I remember browsing the Chinese shopping sites one evening, but I don’t remember buying them! There are really sexy ones. Haha. Given that weight loss, they do look good which makes me sad. What’s the use if I don’t have anyone to see? 🙂

I overanalyse everything. I did this time too. I thought thought and thought about what is the best way to go so that we can continue the BDSM journey as long as possible. So that there won’t be a strain on either of us. So that….we can play till I have to call it a quit.

My brain and heart went very different ways. My brain was saying ‘don’t stress him…if you do, it’ll be over’ and my heart knew I found a Master I was looking for and got too excited. Whilst I was very worried about taking off clothes and having sex, that’s not a priority when I am looking for a Master. For example, let’s say sex or a BDSM session was really bad because he overstated his experiences (ahaha. He will get annoyed if he reads this), I don’t think that changes how I view him. The play itself, the physical aspects….technical….those can be learned. Or if the sex wasn’t as good as he said? (wink) Whether he can dominate and control my mind and heart is not something that can be learned. That’s why I have submitted to someone even I was dominated without sex. He’s dominated my heart.

I’ve always lived alone and after I parted ways with a dominant I lived alone. This should be the same.

I wanted for him to be proud to have me as a submissive. Just as I wanted to be proud to have him as my Master. We would have not gone anywhere public like parties and we wouldn’t have publicised that we were a dom and a sub, I even wonder whether we would’ve done it on the Fet, but that’s not the point. I wanted to be playful and probably had imagined how he would look at me in these lingeries.

He extended his hand and I came out from an invisible shell that I had around me. It took me great courage to break the shell, and my hands were injured when I try to break the shell. I had to break it from within.

I still cry and am trying to pick up the pieces of broken shell. I cry that I can’t find all the pieces to piece together the shell. I want to be back in the shell.

Stupid me who sent too many messages. He asked to give him space, and I had no choice but to say yes. Because it was my fault.

I was sad that I can’t send him a short message saying Good Morning and good night. Even if he didn’t respond, my heart always warmed up that he checked the message.

But he felt obliged to reply which caused the stress. The issue is that, probably because he is that kind of a caring, warm man, I became attracted to him. A paradox. A Mobius strip. I am very thankful that he did what he could do in his available time. He responded every fucking single day. Christmas, New Year whilst he was moving. When I didn’t expect him to. I know how hard it must’ve been.

I feel selfish for wanting more. I was so thankful for him keeping up the communication but at one point, I must have taken it for granted and whilst I was very grateful, forgot to say thank you to him in words.

This was my mistake, trying to step out of the shell.

As I wrote before, I work to fix things. There are things I couldn’t fix, because only he could. That made me very frustrated. It’s not my nature to wait. It’s my nature to help others fix. But of course, there are things that I cannot. However, I also regret that there must have been something I could do to help and support him. Giving him some space was something that I should’ve done much earlier. When he was struggling with certain things, I could’ve shown more support and love to him, even though that was over the texts.

Stupid me.

Let’s pick up and look for the pieces of shell. Let’s glue them back together.

I can’t bear to see things I bought from shoes, clothes, cosmetics to these lingeries. I will wait for a while and say goodbye to them.

LDR -is that an issue?

Keeping engaged in a long-distance relationship (LDR) is difficult. But not impossible.

It’s not the first time I was in an LDR. It’s not the first time that I was in an LDR that we were only meeting once every 3 months. It’s not the first time that we were both so busy that we couldn’t meet. It’s not the first time that I was in an LDR in a BDSM relationship.

The distance doesn’t matter. I was in a relationship where the other person was living close by but we were so busy that we met face to face only about once a month. And close, meaning within 10 minutes of walk. Sounds crazy, doesn’t it? We were both working like 6 am to 1 am (I am still doing that, and I assume he is too) so….no energy left.

I had been in all sorts of LDRs. Probably unusual. So, it doesn’t make me concerned. I feel it’s now it’s easier than before with all the video chats etc. Pre covid, there were, of course, video chats available but I didn’t use them often as the younger people. I used voice calls.

Having a think about it, I think the difference (if it’s not going to be purely online, which I don’t do) is that because they were mostly BDSM, I did have sex and BDSM quite early on. So that we know we are compatible. Like I said in the unsent letter, if the other person doesn’t like my body, sex or BDSM, then it’s over at that point. I never had that issue, because…probably I am honest about myself and make sure that we are aligned before meeting up.

Not actually spending time for BDSM made me anxious a lot. I don’t have anxiety issues….except when it comes to sex or driving a car (that’s another story…haha). I have absolutely no confidence when it comes to anything to do with sex. I was told I make weird noise (lol) but then when I was watching a TV documentary, there were mentions of people of the same nationality making those noises during sex…..so I guess it comes down to what people think is the ‘norm’ about sex? Like….I don’t scream ‘yes’. haha I can’t. Culture issues?

But we did chat on the phone even if it’s 5 minutes (why do I go out with busy people when I am busy? but I think if the other person has more time than me, that can be problematic too) from time to time so that probably helped?

The difficulty is how do we keep each other interested. How do I know that the other person is still interested? The short check-ins helped a lot. The check-ins can be via phone or text.

I guess you can keep a ritual and a dom can assign tasks, but that was never my thing and that was never my doms’ thing. I can now understand why, but still. Thinking….maybe I should’ve asked him to help me lose weight and be active. He did it, in one sense, but probably I could’ve asked him to help me stay on track? Then, that could’ve worked…

…and to doms, if you are going to ask subs to do something, do it that it can be ended when you tell them to stop. For example, if you ask your sub to shave, the sub won’t be able to forget about you until hairs grow back. That’s called torture.

As I wrote before, there needs to be trust both ways to work. The answers we give on a call, email or text are true ones. That we aren’t telling lies. It was so easy this time for me :). I never had that issue. Do I trust a person too much? Maybe but I don’t think so. Again, this comes down to screening people well first.

Honestly, the distance doesn’t matter. That’s not the issue. Craving about the sex, BDSM and the other person….is the issue for me. Loving someone who I cannot see is the issue. I was thinking when I had the last video call with him. A few months back? It’s getting difficult to remember how he looks, how he smiles, his voice and I can imagine it’s the same for him.

But…I would love to know what I could’ve done better….?

Uh hoo. I lost 4 kgs in 5 days with all the turmoil I was in. So this means I lost 10kgs in 6 months and I’m lighter than what I was a few years back. A small win, if I can start eating. Part of me wants to see how much I can lose, but of course not eating is unhealthy….

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