Addicted to Her

As I’ve written about a little bit in earlier posts, this whole domination thing is completely uncharted territory for my goddess. Even for me, while it was something I fantasized about for a very long time, actually doing it was surreal. Wonderful, but very dreamlike. Sort of a “did this actually just happen” kind of vibe.

If you can’t tell from my writings, I’m a very analytical kind of person. My Briggs Myers is INTP for those of you who are familiar with the famous personality test. So I spend my entire life lost in my thoughts, which is a double edged sword. In particular, I’ve come to realize that I have difficulty living and enjoying the moment because I’m constantly analyzing what happened and what is going to happen and oh, should I say or do something to try and change what might happen or do I need to explain what I just did because maybe it didn’t come out right and oh my god what if arrrrghhh. Exhausted yet? Welcome to the club, pal.

When I’m being owned by Her, all these thoughts completely leave my head and I am left with a peace and tranquility that is indescribable. When I’m doing as I’m told I feel like I have a purpose and can and do devote my energy entirely to that purpose. Whether it’s going down on Her, doing the laundry or simply rubbing and kissing her feet, I am completely focused on devoting all that I have in me to that task — there’s no other thought than making Her happy, bringing Her joy and exceeding her expectations of how good life can be for Her. I wholeheartedly want her to feel like the most superior woman in the world— the baddest bitch around. I want other women to see what she has and be jealous as fuck.

She’s s ridiculously kind and thoughtful person. She truly does everything she can for the people she loves. She simply wants to make their lives better and almost always does, although from my perspective the love that she pours out for others is largely trampled underfoot and taken for granted. But that does not deter Her in the slightest from continuing to be selfless which is something I admire greatly. But I digress…

Needless to say, she has never been with someone like me. Everyone’s sexuality is complex, but my whole life I’ve felt that mine is “a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma” even to me. For the longest time I had no idea what drove me; what I really craved. I still don’t understand the why but am coming to accept and am therefore able to articulate the what.

In a nutshell, I have a very deep need to be treated incredibly cruelly by my love. It has to be absolutely real and She has to completely enjoy doing it, to want to keep pushing me further and further for Her amusement and fun. To get off on the absolute power she has over me. But I also need her to love and respect me and see value in me as an equal in the “vanilla world”. Oh, and I need her to know that I know that she has completely power over me and can make me do anything. In short I want her to constantly be mercilessly destroying me then building me back up again only so she can destroy me even more just to repeat the cycle going further and further pushing me harder and deeper. Just mind-fucking me continually.

Frankly that’s a LOT of fucking work.

To an outsider, it would seem that I expect or need Her to be/become a sadist. I mean, I want her to heap pain and degradation for her pleasure, which is diametrically opposed to her nuturing side. But, see, that’s not it at all. In my opinion if you’re giving someone exactly what they want and need (or think they need) to grow and be happy, it is by definition not sadism at all (assuming consent, precautions on dangerous play, etc). I would argue that witholding (provided you actually enjoy it of course) is exponentially more sadistic. Once you internalize and accept the idea that, for whatever crazy reason, this person craves this as a form of nourishment, you begin to see that this situation has the requirement of “being cruel to be kind”. Of course, I’m biased so what the fuck do I know?

I’ve struggled with this yearning my whole life. I’ve repressed it and all I have had is unhappiness and discontentment. Now that I finally have someone to share who I am with, I am, for the first time in my existence, completely free. I still have shame, although talking about it and writing about it makes it better. It is not socially acceptable to want to be “used and abused”; to be completely owned by another; to be casually and regularly used as a snotrag or a toilet or to have your love slap your face hard 4 times just because she wanted to see how much her handprint on your face would make her giggle. But things like this are, to me, constant and even necessary reminders of the fact that She owns me. That that is our power dynamic—She has all of it, I have none. When these types of reminders are absent, I ironically feel powerless–like I don’t belong. And that is the most helpless, horrifying feeling to me. I would rather be completely under the thumb of a (loving) despot than the lord of a mighty harem.

The good news is that if there is anyone who is capable, it’s Her. She’s so empathetic, she has an almost telepathic understanding of me. My only worry is that my neediness will cause her to become bored. Like, it’s all fun now but is this still going to be cute 2 years from now? 20? I am convinced it will, only because I can see the look in her piercing, gorgeous eyes when she’s into it. It’s ineffably exquisite. And that look, and all the promise it entails, makes my insides churn with fear and anticipation, and hopefully (hope, oh do I hope) makes her insides tingle with desire and glee.