I drove to work that morning, still unbelievably aroused and in awe of the night before. I don’t always hit subspace, and I’d definitely never hit it that hard before.
“Sex and Candy” came on the mix cd in my stereo. I always picture stripping for Master to this song. I imagined dragging my fingers over my body, swaying slowly, looking into his eyes and seeing his expression: a combination of a smirk of satisfaction, knowing he was testing my limits, and a hunger for me to finish so he could be the one touching me.
When I got to work, I saw an email from that attorney I have a crush on. He and I were working on a case together for a process neither of us had much experience in. Basically we were winging it. I had given this attorney the opportunity to work with the two paralegals in his own office, one in another office who handles these regularly, or me. He had told me he wanted me to work on it with him and we’d “learn it together.” So, it turns out I fucking nailed that assignment. I had a question, though. So I had researched it thoroughly and drafted a LONG email to him explaining what I thought the answer was and why. He had replied to that email. Blah blah blah, but then “good work.”
“Good work” from a boss you’re fantasizing about is the professional equivalent of “good girl” to me.
So, sitting in a puddle of my own arousal all day, Master and I would periodically text. He took to calling me “angel” during this time. He’s never really called me that before, except when I’ve been extremely vulnerable or upset over something emotional. (For instance, I once broke into tears in the car on the way home from one of my volunteer positions because a man could not afford to pay on a judgment against him, and he and his family were facing foreclosure and struggling just to get food, and he wanted to know if he could just pay $50 a week on it. I felt so bad, and Master looked at me and smiled while I sobbed hysterically. He told me that my heart is so much bigger than I let people know.)
I think he had taken to calling me “angel” during this time because, yes, I was feeling far more submissive. I was allowing him control over something to a much greater extent than ever before. It was intensely emotional, more and more every hour of every day. I had to be “good.” I had to obey. I didn’t want to disappoint him.
During this time, I also found that ageplay isn’t quite as much of a limit to me anymore. I felt like a “little”. I craved his touch, his protection, his comfort. I just wanted to be near him and have him hold me. I needed to be next to him, or at least within arm’s reach. And when he wasn’t with me, I felt completely desolate. And fucking horny, no matter where he was.
Master repeatedly told me during the day how strong I was being, how it impressed him, how he was so in awe of the depth of my submission to him. How he treasured my sacrifice and obedience.
But let’s be honest, here. I wasn’t behaving all that well. I wasn’t breaking the rules, but I was being a total hag. A bitch. The flat-out meanest, most hateful living thing on the planet.
I have given up smoking with each pregnancy with relative ease. We have tried to quit other times, and it always ends up with Master and I at each others’ throats until one of us decides we have to either not be around each other for a week or so, or smoke. So we cave and buy a pack.
Quitting smoking was SO MUCH LESS BITCHY. Oh my god, I was on a rampage. Nothing was right, nothing was ok, I was angry. I was bitter. Every little thing set me off. Then Master bought me some wine, and I managed to chill the fuck out for a little bit.
That night, we started messing around a little, but a switch flipped before anything really happened. I panicked and said no. Master stopped. I knew we weren’t going to have sex, that wasn’t what was bothering me. I’m not sure what it was, but Master pulled me into his arms and held me. When I woke up the next morning, he checked in with me. I was feeling about as well as you can when you have been denied orgasms for 48 hours, and you still had three days ahead of you.