Hard Use

Stepping out of the shower last night, I was thinking that I was rather glad He hadn't read my blog that morning and wouldn't see it until today. Hah. Great minds think opposite. I wandered into the living room only to be accosted by that horribly squirmy feeling which accompanies His reading my occasional communications with Him via blogger. Exceptionally close to bedtime too. Meaning His chance to implement any not-so-bright ideas I may have inspired was near at hand.

I should really keep my dreams to myself.
Because I have one dirty little moment in dreamland, and He runs with it, makes it so much more, takes whatever was hiding in my mind, proceeding to beat and fuck it into a whole new level of existence.

Oh who am I kidding? Myself I suppose.

I loved it. My mind rebels, my body betrays, and I drown in it anyways. There is part of me that was very much made for hard use.

I tend to cultivate the inner fierceness that keeps me going, makes me feel like I have my shit together, forces all my ducks to walk in the cute little row I want.
It can interfere with submission a bit. And sometimes it takes something more powerful, more fierce and raging than myself, to put me back where I belong.

He hurt me. And He used me ten different ways. He showed me something more fierce than myself. And it was amazing in every sense of the word.
Then He told me to cum.

And I couldn't. Nope, nuh huh, no way, body says "fuck you lil." Really?! Some of the most amazing sex of my life and I'm not gonna get to finish?!!! Hmmm. If I had been capable of speech I would have complained loud and long.

I guess the orgasm became important to me because I used to not be able to have them. Then at some point, the acts themselves became important because I didn't used to enjoy them.

But I think that, as with so many things in life, the steps we take on our journey are more important than the end of the road.

I accepted my need for that raw primal fierceness. Because sometimes nothing else can overpower that inner rage I cultivate to keep me in one piece.

And I realized how important those little moments of tenderness are in the midst of the battleground my body can be.
It's another one of those damn conundrum things--to be used brutally and told that I am loved all the more for it.