a Thoughtful Sir

me: this intro is taking too long

*skips one minute* 

*they eating ass*

“Will you wrestle me?” I ask.

He nods.

I lay on the floor. 

He kneels over top of me and puts a hand around my neck and squeezes. 

Then he slaps me. Multiple times on the same cheek. I instinctively try to turn away but at the same time it’s like some of the stress in my body melts a bit, and morphs, and comes out of me with a strange laugh.   

He takes my wrists in his hands, pushes them to the ground a bit above my head. He holds my wrists snugly as I struggle against him. It doesn’t accomplish anything other than making my skin burn a bit under his grip. 

He undresses and pushes his balls in my face. I lick and suck them. “Wait, this isn’t wrestling!” I say while laughing. “Yes it is, you just give in when my cock comes out.” he says. 

After a bit he puts it away and we go back to struggling. Groping, hair pinning. holding me down. At some point while pinning me down he makes a sound that sounds like a tiny sigh. “Are you…bored?” I laugh. 

“Sort of, you aren’t really fighting back….” he says a bit arrogantly. 

We jump up and play fight on our feet. I keep trying to jab him or slap him, he blocks me, sneaks in some slaps, gropes me. Somewhere in the middle he asks me to put something in the oven for him and I do, and then we go back to fighting. He’s so much taller, longer-armed and faster than me. I’m not good at changing up my movements or paces so he always predicts which way I’m going to try to go, even when I use both arms in different directions. He takes his cock out to distract me for a bit and then puts it away and goes back to fighting me. When I make the rare successful hit, he grabs me holds my wrists against my chest until he gets bored and lets me go again. I get overly excited when I succeed. “I felt beard that time!” I say even though I didn’t contact his face, I want credit for coming that close. When he’s winning too much I run away to the far corner of the room and make a weird, ugly face with my tongue out and my nose wrinkled. He laughs at me with a deep belly laugh. “Are you done?”

“Mmm…No. One more!”

I come running back over and square up and we go for a few more minutes. The oven beeps, his food is done. I plate it and give it to him. 

It went on to say other things. Submit to him and he’ll adore you, I don’t remember the other lines. 

It’s just been sitting on my chest since I saw it I guess.

I’ve talked about how D/s is basically a love language for CD and I. How I serve, defer and submit to him in large part because it makes him feel loved. And he guides and takes care of me largely because it feels like love to me. A big part of me loves being of practical help to CD. I like making his life easier. I like being “useful”, it makes me feel good to ‘help’. 

But D/s, or the things we do within our dynamic, are not how we earn each others love, or acceptance, or respect, or anything thing along those lines. 

We love, respect and adore each other simply for being who we are. D/s is how we choose to express our feelings. It’s not what creates our feelings for each other. I show him love by doing his laundry. I don’t earn his love by doing his laundry. 

“If you serve him, he’ll love you.”

Ugh. 

When I see things like that I worry about young subs or new subs. I wonder about a sub who might come across that while in a relationship with a jerk and thinking maybe if I just serve him more he’ll be more loving to me. That’s not how love works. 

When I got up we talked for a few minutes. 

In an overly-serious and loud tone (pretending to be pseudo-“domly”) he said “I want you to make me a burger! And vaccuum!”

I ran into the bedroom and pulled up a cover. 

He followed me.

“I’m chilly!”

He pulled the blanket off of me and grabbed for the waist of my leggings. I fought him a bit but he got them off. 

“I’m too cold!”

He smirked and took my socks off. 

“Hey, that’s just mean…”

He laughed and swatted me. 

He started to pick me up. “You have to help, hold my neck.” I put my hands around his neck. 

He picked me up and carried me over facing my butt towards a window at first, me frantically grabbing at the curtain to close it to try to hide myself even though nobody was out there. 

Then he sat me down in front of the fridge. 

I think pretty much everyone has a bad attitude sometimes. I do, anyway. haha. I don’t have a short temper and am not particularly impulsive usually so it’s not a frequent problem but, I’m certainly imperfect. 

Oh fuck, he’s going to feel me up, through my soaked panties. ‘You may,’ she said, failing to hide the tremble in her voice.

There was no teasing this time. His hand firmly cupped her mound, fingers pushing in between her thighs so he could squeeze her. ‘Oh Natalie, you are disgustingly wet, Princess.’

That combination, his hand, his words, saying out loud the embarrassing state of her underwear. It rendered her speechless.

He wasn’t done. His middle finger pressed the slick material in between her pussy lips, rubbing it up and down against her swelling clit. ‘What kind of girl goes on a date with her pussy in a state like this?’ His fingertip moved to her clit, circling it hard, causing Natalie to cry out.

‘Oh God, yes. What…kind…of…girl?’ She closed her eyes, giving in to his words, his fingers, letting the answer pour out of her. ‘A slut. A needy, desperate little whore of a slut princess.’

He was quiet for long enough that she opened her eyes. He was staring at her, studying her. ‘Fuck me. Good answer.’

Another sneak peak at a scene from Three-Line Whip the next book in my Kink by the Numbers series.