Doubts

I miss Sir. He wasn't just a play partner. I cared about him deeply and I guess you could say I loved him. Even though he annoyed the heck out of me sometimes. I guess the point of this post is to put some of the issues out there. The things that I didn’t like about our time together. Although it’s going to appear to the contrary, I am in no way bashing him. Like I said, I care about him very much. I just need to put this down, in black and white, the reason why I ended the relationship. So I can look at it when I need a reminder. Something to get rid of those nagging little doubts in my head when I’m missing him, or missing our playtime.




In a previous post I talked about trust issues I had. I trusted him…..but a few wrong moves with a flogger broke that trust. I began to get guarded when we would play. I would “bitch and complain” as he would say, when he wanted to bind me with chain. He thought I hated to be bound. In reality I loved it. What I hated was the fact that I could no longer move, therefore I couldn’t protect delicate areas from stray flogger strikes. You see, he is a sadist. He rarely provided me with the luxury of a warm up. Just fast, super hard strikes. Once, while I was bent over a bench, one of those super hard strikes that should only be meant for a well cushioned ass, hit me right across the pussy. I cried. He didn’t seem to understand and tried to analyze how it could have happened. I wanted to scream, “How could it not happen!?! My legs are spread and I’m bent over!”.



This wasn’t the only time. He loves to use floggers with longer flails. While nice, the aim wasn’t very accurate. At least, not the way he used them. Many times, I’ve ended up with welts and marks that took weeks to fade. Not just on my back and ass, but also on the sides of my breasts and belly. Because the flails were so long, they would wrap around because he didn’t take that into account when he was striking me. And the belly should never be hit with the force with which he used. Really, it should never be hit at all. That is where all the vital organs are. I’ve also had a few stray strikes to the face with the flogger. Ones that were meant for the back, but again, long flails and poor aim are not a good combination.



Sir had this piece of wood. It was about 5 feet long, an inch wide, and about a half an inch thick. It was this long splintered fragment from an old skid that he picked up from work. All along its length, there were tiny splinters from the rough wood. Once, he cracked me with it quite unexpectedly. I became quite upset and told him not to ever use that on me again. That was just another time I was “bitching and complaining”. I explained to him that it wasn’t safe. It was dirty and I didn’t want to pick out a million splinters from my backside. I didn’t want the potential for infection. Again, he didn’t understand and just said, “you won’t get splinters”. After having been swatted with it a few more times, I finally had to call “red” and tell him that particular “toy” was a “hard limit”. I’m still disbelieving and a little angry that I actually had to tell him it was a hard limit, even after explaining why this “toy” was not safe in my eyes.



Sir had some problems with impotence. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. While that wasn’t a real problem for me, the fact that he liked to compensate with his fingers was. He has very rough, calloused fingers from his line of work. I am extremely sensitive in the nether regions. He also liked using a rough touch. I had problems becoming aroused when he touched my pussy. It was too rough. It hurt in a not good way. He would frequently insist on me squirting. Something I have never done in my life, and to the best of my knowledge, I’m not capable of. He would very roughly “massage” my g spot. On my end, it felt like somebody jabbing me very hard. All while he kept repeating, “Now squirt. Do it now”. It usually ended with me near tears and not wanting to play anymore. Even after explaining to him how it felt to me, and that it hurt me, and that I would not “squirt”, he downplayed my feelings by telling me “You just need to let go”. He heard me, but he didn’t listen to me.



He wanted me to hit subspace with him. I did maybe once or twice during scenes with him. He would try to repeat it but was always unsuccessful when he was trying. I’d explain what was done differently the 1 or 2 times I did make it to subspace: slow, steady, and rhythmic. Gradual increase in intensity. He ignored this as well. Like I said before, no warm up. Just “CRACK”. Very hard, random strikes out of the blue. I can’t achieve subspace like that. When I’m close, it brings me right out of it.



The last time we played together was at camp. The night before I left. I asked him if we could play. He cuffed my wrists and ankles to a light pole outside. It went well for the most part. He used a 2 inch wide paint stick in addition to a flogger and slapper. The scene ended with him using the paint stick, attempting to use a rhythmic tempo in beat to the music for my behalf. I was nearing that blissful head space in no time and kept asking him to go a little harder. The scene ended with my ass bleeding (completely unintentional and freaked us both out a little bit). After going to the infirmary for antibiotic ointment and a large gauze bandage, the night ended.



The next day we talked. He told me that he had gained absolutely no enjoyment from our play session because he tried to “alter” his “play style” to meet my needs. I again reiterated what I felt was safe and what was not. He told me that he had no intention on changing. He stated that he thought I just enjoyed the kinks, that I wasn’t really submissive. That I wasn’t a masochist and that he liked things “rough”. I disagreed with all of that, but it was a moot point. We agreed that our desires within the lifestyle were not compatible. Though it was mutual. I was the first to say “There is nothing left. It’s over”.



I think he is sad too. We’ve met a few times since for dinner and remain good friends. My husband sees him frequently and tells me that he thinks Sir misses me. I feel sad that it’s over, but yes, seeing it all spelled out…..I know I made the right decision in ending things. I just truly hope that he takes the things I have told him, and learns. Regardless whether you are sub, bottom, masochist…..it doesn’t matter. It needs to be mutual and both parties need to benefit from the play. Otherwise, there is no reason to continue. And some things aren’t safe no matter who you are.