Words and Fear
It’s hard to believe, but I’m struggling with finding the words to describe last night.
Harry thinks I’ll go back to him again. I’m terrified of him being right. I’m terrified of him.
I know I need to start at the beginning- from our first visit. I have the story being written, but I’m not half way through yet. I fear if I divulge the detail now, I may never finish writing the story (though, I’m starting to dislike them these days. That last one about Dave was just atrocious upon rereading it).
Ok, so here’s the story: I met a Dom off CL. I know a lot of people say they don’t really meet people there but are really lying, but I’m telling the truth. I read the ads now and again because sometimes they’re interesting or funny (even hot on occasion) but I’ve only ever met 3 people off it (not including sex shows with Jefferson, those are just a different category). And I only have had sex with 1- that would be Harry.
And at first I wasn’t really even answering his ad, I was asking a question. His ad was looking for a sub and he would pay her. Well I wanted to know why he would pay a sub, when most women do it for free, you know? Well, he sent me back a very lengthy and detailed e-mail about how he wanted to humiliate a girl by turning her into a full-fledged prostitute, for real. He was big into humiliation.
So, I became interested. I knew I was pulling one over though, having already prostituted. (And here’s why I hesitated at first with telling this story, I didn’t need the Denzel thing all over again. And still I worry as I write this…)
I gauged him by his e-mails: he seemed reasonably intelligent and very real. He would have scored higher on the intelligence if he were more consistent in capitalizing and not using so many run-ons. And as it turns out he is very bright and extremely perceptive. I’d even venture to say he knows me better that I do- in terms of the darkness in my psyche and my seriously depraved sexual desires. Just in a dozen e-mails and 2 visits. Even Jefferson, who I was with for so long, is going to learn something new about me as he reads this. (Noelle, proceed with extreme caution.)
So, we met. At his Park Ave. apartment (I’ll tell ya, I’ve never seen anything like it! When I got in the elevator, his floor was already pushed! And then when I got out there were only two apartments! I wish I could live on Park Ave!)
And he was brutal. Exactly as was agreed upon. Because despite how much he abused me, he was always checking in that I was alright. He said filthy things to me all night- calling me a whore, a cunt only to be fucked, and more that my own mind can’t come up with.
And I loved it. I love being talked dirty to like that. Because, really, it doesn’t get to me. He called me worthless even, and I just laughed inside my head. Because for me, the dirty talk isn’t about believing it. I don’t really even know what it’s about, but I just love hearing it.
He spanked me and whipped me and caned me. Mother fucking cane. I fucking hate that shit. Welted me up and down my ass- even right in that crack where ass meets thigh.
And he fucked me so hard I bled. And he fucked me so hard I screamed as I came.
He fucked my ass with no lube, just some spit, completely reveling in my whimpers of pain. And fucked me harder as I came from it. Then fed me his cock right after it’d been in my ass.
He spit in my mouth and came on my face. He pulled my hair and slapped me.
And then, in the end, he stuffed $300 in cash up my pussy.
But I was never really humiliated that night, like we were going for.
It’s funny (to me) to think that before last night, that was rough.
Let me just add, as an aside- man has got a sexy voice! A little bit husky and deep, and you best believe when he says “Do it,” I do it! Even when I don’t want to.
I left there though satisfied, a little elated. I felt I accomplished something- enduring things I didn’t know I could, pushing my boundaries to see how far I could go. But I hadn’t planned on doing it again!
But the memory of it kept lingering. Kept turning me on.
It was like I did a complete 180- leaving the comfort and gentleness of Jefferson and going to this intense abuse and depravity.
It seems I’ve completely lost my mind.
This time he was armored with more information, some of it I voluntarily gave, some of it he deduced from our first meeting.
One thing he learned that first night is my fear of public exposure. As he roughly grabbed at my crotch and stuffed the money there, outside by my car, he saw my terror about people across the street seeing. And he used that. Oh God he used that.
Last night I drove into the city and picked him up at his apartment and then we drove to his other apartment in Brooklyn as he had house guests that night. He pulled my dress open leaving my breasts out for anyone near to see. And laughed at my visible discomfort. I laughed because I was uncomfortable.
Up in his apartment, he brutalized me. I’d basically consented to non-consent and he fed off my fear- making more threats than he actually followed through with.
He stuffed my mouth with a gag (and from the tingling in my tongue and lips I’d gather it had pthlates, blech) and bound my arms behind my back (you have no idea how hard it was for me to keep my mouth shut about giving him rope tips) and fucked me every which way.
He whipped me with this dreadful stingy little thing, yelling at me as I constantly moved from him. I whimpered in the corner, feeling totally trapped and lost.
So many times that I night I felt helpless and terrified.
The goal was that night to push me even further. To break me. To get me to beg to stop. To cry. A point I’ve never really reached before. I’ve never cried before and I’ve never really asked to stop.
He kept threatening me with extreme things- things he knew would be too much for me. And I got so confused, I didn’t know whether or not to believe him.
He took me in the bathroom, had me get in my panties and then into the tub and peed on my cunt and ass, soaking me and the underwear and he rubbed his hand in it and over my face. Then as he was fucking me more, surprised me by shoving them in my mouth and clamping the ball gag over them. But I was more focused on breathing than what they tasted like.
I didn’t know how much more I could take. Physically I ached. Emotionally I was strained. Then he gave me an out. He offered we stop but I leave with less money, or I can keep going for the whole shebang. I contemplated it for a while. I really wanted the money- I was already keen on stocking it in savings for my study abroad fund. But I was so tired. We’d been playing for 2 hours with barely a break.
He was fucking me slowly and when I said it didn’t hurt he pulled out and fucked me roughly with a dildo until I mumbled “Respect” through my gags- signaling I wanted to stop and leave with respect and dignity, instead of continuing for the money.
And then I cried. I cried for calling uncle. I cried for the fear I’d felt that night. I cried for Jefferson, wishing he was near to give me that tenderness I craved so desperately right then.
I kept crying even after he took out the gags and untied my arms.
He kept asking me if I was alright, if I was going to be Ok. I nodded my head yes and calmed myself down, worried I was upsetting him!
And then we talked. And talked. That was my aftercare. No cuddles. Talking, and dissecting. I can’t really relay much of what we talked about. Mostly because I’m just not good at it. Mostly because I’m still trying to grasp it all.
But the overall gist is he really fucking gets me. He totally understands the darkness inside me that I have this need to explore. And damn if he’s not scared of it like I am!
I thought it was finally over as we dressed and he walked me to my car. But still he tortured me. He pulled up my dress as we walked, holding it so my entire bottom half was exposed.
Then he did the ultimate- he fucked me in the street, against my car. I was horrified. I was constantly looking around to see if anyone was coming. I was mostly silent to hear for footsteps or jingling keys. Then he pulled the top of my dress down and I was even more petrified.
Not too petrified to cum, mind you.
And then it happened.
Someone mother fucking walked by. We didn’t hear him. We were looking to the left and he came from the right. I saw him as he was 3 feet away and swore into Harry’s shoulder- Jesus Fucking Christ. And I shut my eyes so tight. I wanted to die- to crawl into myself and never be seen again. And then finally he came. I didn’t feel comfortable until I could fix my dress and cover myself.
And even with all that, it just wasn’t too far. He pushed the line back, rather than crossed it really.
I’m afraid though, if there’s a next time, he’ll try and cross it. In fact, really, I know he will.
He thinks I’ll go back. I’m terrified he’s right.
All Things Sex | 
Avah | July 23, 2007
By Joy, July 23, 2007 @ 6:20 pm
You know, your little click-comments are entirely inadequate for entries like this. You should have a “Damn!” button or a “Hoh-leee Shite!” button. “Entertaining” just doesn’t cut it.
So…
Damn.
By Rupert, July 23, 2007 @ 8:31 pm
Wow. That sounded intense, Avah. One of those reads that made my stomach churn a bit as I read it. Phew.
By Emerald, July 24, 2007 @ 7:04 am
One of the things I liked about having a dominant partner was that trust that he’d really look after me. He’d push me but always looked out for me. He was really just taking care of my needs.
It felt ‘right’ and ‘healthy’ for both of us somehow.
How does this relationship feel to you, Avah?
By Emerald, July 24, 2007 @ 7:09 am
Also, it sounds as though you are ‘high’ from this experience. Imagine how you will feel/see it a month or a year from now. Or imagine you are the parent of yourself. What would you say to yourself? Only you know the whole story and Harry and can decide whether it’s right for you to go back or not.
By Gray Lily, July 24, 2007 @ 12:19 pm
This was super hot and hit me where I live. Men who know how to do real humiliation are few and far between, that is for sure.
But I almost agree with Emerald, Avah. When I met my Mr Stern, I knew from the very beginning that no matter how much he scared the shit out of me, he always had my best interests in mind. The importance of that cannot be overrated.
Female intuition may seem like a bad joke, but I swear by it - if it feels like he is taking care of you and meeting your needs in a healthy way, go for it. If you have the slightest doubts as to his motives or intentions, back off. Now. Before you get so caught up in it you spend another year and a half trying to get out of it.
Just because Harry knows how to humiliate the fuck out of you doesn’t mean he will be able to take care of the pieces he leaves behind. If you have even a little piece of you crying for more warmth or affection or cuddling or aftercare, listen to it and take care of it. You deserve to be abused and humiliated and loved the way you want, not just the way he wants.
Take care of you.
-GL
By The Butterfly Temptress, July 24, 2007 @ 1:24 pm
I applaud you for owning your feelings and running with them. I also find it an amazing show of strength to speak up when you’d had enough. So many women don’t and it leads to trouble.
Like you, I like humiliation. It’s something I could use more of, truth be told. Yet relationships are what they are, yes?
Stay safe above all else. And know that it’s always ok to stop when you’ve had enough. Whether for a break or forever, stopping when you’ve had your fill is the best.
Much love,
The Butterfly Temptress
By Noelle*, July 24, 2007 @ 2:30 pm
what the fuck is wrong with you people. deserve to be abused?!?!? Why not raped and mutilated why you’re at it?! Have fun right?
By Avah, July 24, 2007 @ 11:05 pm
Gray Lily and Emerald- I know what you’re saying about making sure I’m getting what I need from the encounters- and although yes I do crave that tenderness, it wouldn’t feel right with Harry. Like, how you don’t kiss Mr. Stern. I’m someone that needs both tenderness and roughness, but they really don’t necessarily need to come from the same person. I can do fine going to see Harry and getting beat up and then have a sweet vanilla boy to cuddle with in the mean while.
Really though, I’ve just recently let myself finally miss Jefferson, and that’s more what it was about when I was crying. I just miss him. And I don’t really want to write about it (not that there’s much more else to say on the subject anyways). But once I got crying, I just started being upset about anything that had been on my mind recently.
By Josh Jasper, July 24, 2007 @ 11:10 pm
Well, anon. I for one blame that horrible rock and roll music, too much violence on tee vee, and not enough Jesus.
Avah, I get that he sees you, and is perceptive of you. And that’s good. But what’s he like as a person, outside of what he does to you in these scenes?
Of course, I fret for you, and hope for you. I fret that the power of someone who gets you that well in the hands of someone who you might fall in love with might not be good, if he dosen’t care about you and is able to be there with you when you need him
On the other hand, I hope he’s a nice (mostly) sane guy who can walk dark places with you, but be good to you and considerate when you need it.
By A, July 25, 2007 @ 7:22 pm
Good day,
Something bothered me in this post and it took me awhile to realize what it was. Somewhere along the way, the desire to submit has became some kind of dark and depraved thing and, well, that’s not right.
Think about it, how can trusting somebody to the point where you let them bind you, gag you, control you be depraved? How can the desire to please somebody be depraved? How can pushing yourself to a point where you never experienced before be depraved? These things are beautiful.
By Avah, July 25, 2007 @ 10:28 pm
Rock on, A!
By Link, July 26, 2007 @ 10:40 am
What to say, what to say … yum works
. This isn’t in my scope of play, but I love that you can write about it and have fun with it. Its a wonderful thing when a woman submits herself to a guy. *evil grin*
I can’t say I’m not worried, I’m not in the relationship, and I don’t know how much you trust the guy. If you trust him, go for it. It sounds like he’s an okay guy, acknowledging your safe word and all. The after care could use some work though :p .
I love the story and hope to hear many more. Play safe and have fun.
~Link
Oh and to those anonymous people who cant form coherent and objective thoughts about the lifestyle, you have no place reading this, let alone commenting it.
By Avah, July 26, 2007 @ 10:53 am
You know, as sadistic and cruel as Harry is, he’s actually a pretty nice guy underneath it, which I’ve gotten a bunch of glimpses of.
I have no fear for my personal safety with him. And even though I’m pretty scared of him, that’s ultimately the goal. It does freak me the fuck out when he threatens me with even more extreme stuff, but he won’t do it, like he’s said time and time again.
And both times he always took into account when something wasn’t feeling right or I needed to stop. And it’s those things that builds my trust in him.
By Link, July 26, 2007 @ 10:55 am
Thats good to hear. It sounds like he knows what hes doing.
By Emerald, July 29, 2007 @ 7:34 pm
Well then. Doesn’t sound like you are quite so “terrified” (to quote this entry) at all…