Entering BDSM PART 7

“Ben, I can’t breathe.” She pushes her hands against me, and I manage to roll myself off of her to her side. My head is resting on my bicep, which I curl so I can soothe her scalp with my fingers. My other arm is slung limp over her waist, my fingers caressing her side gently. She throws one arm over her eyes and the other is resting over my arm over her waist.

The heaving in her chest takes on a different rhythm, and she breaks into a sob. If I wasn’t aware of the fact that she’s going through a highly emotional sexual awakening, I would develop a complex with how much she cries after sex. Instead, I feel privileged to be the one she chose to guide her through it.

Through her submission to me, Emmae has secured a power over me that I didn’t know was possible. I never saw it coming. This is the exact moment I comprehend exactly what she means to me. I know she’s it for me, and there will never be another. No one will ever have me like she does.  That’s sappy as fuck, but it’s true. It’s overwhelming to know this after three days, but at the same time, I’ve known Emmae for nearly 15 years. I know who she is. I’ve loved her as long as I’ve known her in one context or another.

This here – what we had tonight, the depth of the connection between us – it was the final missing piece of our puzzle. There’s no way in hell I can tell her all this now. The last thing I need to do is scare her away. For fuck’s sake, I’m scared. I still need to process it, but there’s a peace in knowing.

Back to Emmae – she’s crying, which snaps me right out of my haze. I gently pull her arm away from her eyes. “Talk to me, Emmae. What’s going on?” She blinks rapidly, trying to clear the tears from her eyes while I brush her tears away with my thumb.

“What the fuck is wrong with me, Bernard?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing is wrong with you.”

“No, I’m fucked up. I just had the most intense, mind-blowing orgasm of my entire life, and it was because you hurt me.”

I swallow the knot in my throat. “Emmae, I’m so sorry.”

“NO, Ben, it’s not like that. You hurt me, but you didn’t harm me. Okay? It was good. It was perfect.” More tears are forming as she cries again.  “If I’m not fucked up, I don’t know what this is. Why do I want you to control me in here? Why do I want you to give me pain? Why do I want to be hurt? Why do I get a thrill in my chest when you call me a slut?”

I kiss her temple. “Emmae, it’s not fucked up. It’s a sexual preference. I can’t definitively tell you what you are feeling. It’s subjective. Ithink you fear weakness, and for a long time, it’s been drilled into your head that wanting those things – to submit, to take pain, to be called a ‘slut’ – is something weak people want. But I can tell you that it has nothing to do with being weak”

She furrows her brows. “Explain what you mean by that.”

“Okay, this is from my point of view. When you submit to me, I believe you are doing it from a place of strength, Emmae. You wouldn’t choose just anyone to take control. You would be discriminating in a partner. You chose me, you gave me a gift. You have the power to decide if I’m worthy of it. I cherish that, as sappy as that sounds. I think you chose me because you know I respect the hell out of you. Because, Emmae, there is no one on this planet I respect more than you. You know that, right?”

She nods slowly, “I mean, I’ve always known you respect me. It’s a little surprising to hear that I’m the person you respect most.That’s big.”

“It is. But back to my point, you would never choose someone to dominate you in the bedroom who didn’t respect you outside of it. You are strong, intelligent, and a formidable opponent in a game of wits.” She smiles at that. “I love that about you. You don’t take my shit, you call me out when I’m being a dick.” She huffs out a laugh, which is a step in a good direction. “You’re able to let that go when we’re in here, and I think that’s because you trust that beneath it all, I my respect for you, my trust in you, remains unshaken.”

“I think you’re right. I understood wanting to give up control – It’s a chance to not shoulder responsibility that threatens to crush me on a daily basis. I get that. It has just been hard to grasp why I want it so badly... And then it scares me that I know that I will never want anyone else to do what I let you do.”

My breath hitches a bit when she says that. At least I know we’re on the same page with this, but I don’t think either of us is ready to go all-in with admissions yet. “It scares me, too. I don’t want anyone else to take my place with you… And I don’t want anyone to try to take your place with me.”

She nods, but doesn’t say anything further. Our words weren’t exactly “I will love you forever and ever” or sappy shit like that, but it’s an honest admission of what’s going on. I’m not ready to say it, even if I know it’s true. I’m not ready to hear it, either.

“Okay, what about the slut thing? That’s such a degrading term, and offensive. But for some reason, it turns me on like crazy.” I smirk at that, because I love calling her a slut in the bedroom.

“Alright, so before all this, a ‘slut’ was what? A pejorative term, right? There are a lot of different reasons that someone likes to be called a slut in our context. Some people are “owning” the term, like making it a positive. Like when you would take pride when someone called you a bitch?” She laughs at that memory.

I smirk at what I’m going to say next, but still feel oddly worried it might get me in trouble. “I like calling you a slut in bed. Well, I like calling you my slut. I have my own reasons.” She looks at me, eyebrows raised, waiting for me to elaborate. “It’s because it’s something that’s just ours. I didn’t call other partners a slut, it never occurred to me to be so possessive. Like, they would call themselves ‘slut’ but I didn’t reciprocate. And it’s not because I thought it would be disrespectful to affirm it, it was more like I just didn’t care. It wasn’t until I heard you that morning, resisting it, that I found myself craving to hear it from your lips. It felt like you were embracing something within yourself, something I unleashed, and it was mine.” I run my hand through my hair, probably making it more wild than it already is.

“That kind of hits the nail on the head for me. Like, I was embracing the fact that, for some reason, I want to be allowed to want dirty things, like a slut would. And it’s you who makes me feel safe enough to admit it, safe enough to want them.”

I kiss the side of her head again, whispering against her skin, “You will always be safe with me.” She turns her head to face me.

“I know, Bernard. Thank you for that.” She puts her hand on my cheek and gently pulls me forward to press her lips to mine. It’s a slow, but passionate and extremely powerful kiss, especially after what we’ve just discussed. Like we’re sealing an understanding.

She’s nodding off to sleep now, caged protectively in my arms. She says sleepily, “I still want to talk about pain, but I’m getting tired.”

I huff a laugh and nod, “yeah, I’m fucking spent…” I feel a thrill when she smirks with a look of well-deserved pride. As I feel her breathing even out, a sense of peace overwhelms me.

Yeah, she’s it for me.