And even then I didn't.
I didn't realize.
I didn't understand.
Until he told me today how he hadn't wanted to.
He hadn't wanted to beat me that much.
He'd thought he was done.
He'd thought it was enough.
And then he saw.
He saw the way I moved.
And he knew.
He hadn't gotten through yet.
So he beat me more with the strip of cherry wood that he uses as a cane. And up in the bedroom, he ordered me on my back and beat my pussy with the back of the wooden spoon while making me suck his cock no matter how great the pain from the punishment. And he brought the back of that large wooden spoon down on my pussy again and again, wanting it to be enough, wanting it to not be too much, and wondering where that line was.
And the very last time he brought the spoon down on my screaming swollen tissues it was.
It was more pain than I could bear.
And he stopped.
I didn't know.
I didn't know how much he didn't want to hurt me that much.
He told me today, on IM, and I cried and cried and then as one line after another of words came up all I could think was -
I love you.
We've been talking a lot.
We've been working hard.
We've been struggling and feeling close
and I've asked for something to help me remember.
To remember to focus.
To focus on his ownership.
To focus on his pleasure.
To remember with every breath I take
not just that he owns me,
because that I already do.
But to remember
that with every word,
I must focus only on what will please him.
Declaring my love,
declaring my devotion,
it's not enough.
I must prove it.
Over and over again.
And in that way I am truly his.
And he does want me to be truly his.