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switchkitty78"Have the kind of sex with Kittyboy that scares you" was the assignment from my Lady. Best laid plans of Mice and Men gang aft agley.
No mistake, I found a way to shove at my boundaries, just probably not in the way expected of me. In a lot of ways I feel like I copped out last night in terms of what was actually done. Still, the evening did end with me in a sobbing, broken ball of hurt, with a Kittyboy wrapped around me warm and tight and comforting, dropping kisses on any bits of my face he could reach and gently brushing away the tears I had been carrying in my heart for too damn long.
I hate crying. I did so much of it in the past two years in the slow excruciating process of breaking up with my exes that I simply just don't do it anymore unless I'm pushed to. Even if I need to. And I won't do it in front of people anymore, because I find it so fucking humiliating. I think that's only the third time ever Kittyboy's actually seen me cry. And just lately I've been carrying so much around - fear, stress, anxiety, rage, grief, what have you - it had just hardened into a knot somewhere behind my eyes where I could ignore it most of the time.
Last night before he came over I was tying up my hair and watching Moulin Rouge! (I needed to see something as frenetically mercurial as I was feeling, and that movie goes from pure unadulterated batshit insanity to melodramatic bathos pretty much in one straight downward pointing line), I was kinda just trying to sit with all of my emotions at once, instead of the usual trying to stuff them all down into their usual box somewhere in the back corner of my psyche, trying to muster up the courage to pull one out. It's interesting that it was mostly the sad that showed up, since I think I wanted it to be something a little meaner, a little Darker, for lack of a better word (and only better in the sense that only my Lady, and little sister will know exactly to what I'm referring). But that's what showed up, and by the end of the evening, I needed to cry and be taken care of. Of course, that's never something I feel comfortable asking for in words. so when Kittyboy did show up and curiously inquired about the previous post, I handed Mace Windu to him, dropped trou, and gave up my ass for shredding. And fucking as it turned out.
yeah, I've actually never been caned in earnest. That shit hurts, and I've now got a nasty bruise/welt stretching from one asscheek to the other, which certainly makes sitting more than a little interesting. And god forbid you actually touch it. But it got the job done. And it was something I wanted, and needed, and had to actually ask for, which I have serious problems doing. Maybe I could have pushed myself harder, taken more, but breaking a dam causes mudslides and destruction - better to gate it open slowly, you know?
One leash, one chain at a time. Meanwhile, Kittyboy has something to smirk and swagger about. Until next time.
No mistake, I found a way to shove at my boundaries, just probably not in the way expected of me. In a lot of ways I feel like I copped out last night in terms of what was actually done. Still, the evening did end with me in a sobbing, broken ball of hurt, with a Kittyboy wrapped around me warm and tight and comforting, dropping kisses on any bits of my face he could reach and gently brushing away the tears I had been carrying in my heart for too damn long.
I hate crying. I did so much of it in the past two years in the slow excruciating process of breaking up with my exes that I simply just don't do it anymore unless I'm pushed to. Even if I need to. And I won't do it in front of people anymore, because I find it so fucking humiliating. I think that's only the third time ever Kittyboy's actually seen me cry. And just lately I've been carrying so much around - fear, stress, anxiety, rage, grief, what have you - it had just hardened into a knot somewhere behind my eyes where I could ignore it most of the time.
Last night before he came over I was tying up my hair and watching Moulin Rouge! (I needed to see something as frenetically mercurial as I was feeling, and that movie goes from pure unadulterated batshit insanity to melodramatic bathos pretty much in one straight downward pointing line), I was kinda just trying to sit with all of my emotions at once, instead of the usual trying to stuff them all down into their usual box somewhere in the back corner of my psyche, trying to muster up the courage to pull one out. It's interesting that it was mostly the sad that showed up, since I think I wanted it to be something a little meaner, a little Darker, for lack of a better word (and only better in the sense that only my Lady, and little sister will know exactly to what I'm referring). But that's what showed up, and by the end of the evening, I needed to cry and be taken care of. Of course, that's never something I feel comfortable asking for in words. so when Kittyboy did show up and curiously inquired about the previous post, I handed Mace Windu to him, dropped trou, and gave up my ass for shredding. And fucking as it turned out.
yeah, I've actually never been caned in earnest. That shit hurts, and I've now got a nasty bruise/welt stretching from one asscheek to the other, which certainly makes sitting more than a little interesting. And god forbid you actually touch it. But it got the job done. And it was something I wanted, and needed, and had to actually ask for, which I have serious problems doing. Maybe I could have pushed myself harder, taken more, but breaking a dam causes mudslides and destruction - better to gate it open slowly, you know?
One leash, one chain at a time. Meanwhile, Kittyboy has something to smirk and swagger about. Until next time.
