Tuesday, August 16, 2011

The Truth Is...

We are no longer new to ttwd, our relationship is almost half as old as I am, our roles are established...And I'm still scared shitless (okay, so there's a lot wrong with that word but I'm not going there lol).

The truth is, I get off on being afraid. I also get off on feeling safe. Even better? A combination of both (figure that one out, you know you want to. Then you can tell me all about it).
But there's that other fear...The fear of needing so badly I'll beg without prompting, the fear of not just wanting Him to get me off, but desperately needing it and knowing He has the right to deny me.

That wanton little whore I was talking about? Alpha likes her but I think she's a bit of a bitch. Because she's needy and not afraid to beg for it, to admit what she wants and crawl after it, to let go absolutely and without shame. Because when she peeks out, the last vestiges of what I see as my control go up in smoke.

I have always been a one-orgasm-done, kind of girl (well, that's not exactly true--before Alpha I was a no-orgasm-done kind of girl lol). Last night as we curled up together after He had yanked three orgasms out of me from God only knows where, He asked me why I was so afraid to let go, to free that elusive, locked up, trouble making little whore who lacks boundaries, loves sucking dick, and is malleable as clay (disturbingly enough, He had not yet read yesterday's post).

I told Him it was because I couldn't control her. He laughed at me (For the record, it's not nice to laugh at the hazy sub who can't think straight), and said in that slightly condescending and excessively smarmy tone, "Control? You think you still have control?" Oops, well, uhhh, kinda? Nope.

My body was done, my limbs felt like jelly, my mind was mush, my stomach was cramping...And I wanted more.

The truth is--I'm afraid to let go. I think it's my biggest issue surrounding sex, intimacy, and ttwd in general. As much as I love that place Alpha affectionately calls the abyss, I prefer to peek over the edge, dip my toes in the water, flounder around in the shallows, and beat a hasty retreat to safety.

But we both know we are to much all or nothing for that to last forever. That we thrive on that connection, the spark, the fire, the things that happen when we leap over the edge without looking back.

I get off on being afraid. I get off on being safe. And the combination of both brings me to my knees begging to please.

The truth is, there's this wanton little whore that I have kept locked away for a very long time. And I don't know that I have the ability or desire to keep her chained any more.

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