Posted by: littlegirlyone | May 26, 2010

A Hurty Week, part 2

I want to hold the hand inside you,
I want to take a breath that’s true.

-Mazzy Star, Fade into You

It’s possible that it’s just coincidence. And I know there’s a difference between a cause and a correlation. But whatever the relationship between my Daddy’s sadism and my coming and crying (at the same time), I feel like it’s time to acknowledge that there is some relationship.

I’m an emotional girl, and I’ve cried after climaxing in the past. Mostly when I’m stressed, occasionally for some other reason. It’s always been a rare occurrence. I try not to do it with partners (nothing kills the afterglow like howls and sniffles, trust.) But on occasion with Mark, I’ve burst into sobs after I came, and muttered something like “it’s not you, just give me a minute,” while rolling over and burying my head into a pillow. And it’s not him, really. It’s me. I laugh easily, I cry easily. I cry when I feel blessed and overjoyed and overwhelmed and stressed and angry and frustrated. And sad.

Back in December I wrote about the first time that I cried while I came. Not after. During. What I didn’t mention (because it didn’t seem relevant at that time) was how that experience was tied to one of my early conversations with Daddy. He and I had been talking for a couple of weeks. I was still sort of on the fence about him. He was so much meaner, and his fantasies were so much more sadistic than anything I had ever experienced. And he had this tendency to hurt my feelings when we chatted. He’d make cold-hearted comments that pushed my buttons. I wasn’t sure if I liked him. But I couldn’t seem to shake my interest in him, either. And he was on my mind the day I hate fucked myself into oblivion in the shower. I’d just left a conversation with him, and I was feeling confused, rattled, and a little defiant.

There have been times since then where, under Daddy’s direction, I came and cried at the same time. For the dacryphiliac in me, that is sort of a jackpot. I find it really sexy, and it’s a nice release of whatever I am holding on to. I love it when sex and  emotions collide to create catharsis. It feels amazing to be wrung out like that. Plus, it’s so intimate it makes me sigh.

So after I unclamped my abused nipples for the second time, and after I stopped writhing in agony long enough to send Daddy his pictures, I picked up the Hitachi again. This time, it was going on my clit. This time, I knew I was going to enjoy it.

I didn’t bother getting out of the chair. I just flicked the button on, and nuzzled the big, round head against my cunt. I closed my eyes. I thought about how owned I felt. I thought about what I’d just done, hurting myself by myself just because he wanted to watch me. I considered whether there was anything I wouldn’t do for him. My mind hummed along with my pussy. It twisted down the path of terrible, unspeakable, scary thoughts. But there was nothing, nothing that it stumbled over that I didn’t want to give him. I felt completely, overwhelmingly under his thumb. That sort of submission is amazingly sexy to me.

It was then that I shuddered against the wand, gasping. And that’s when my eyes started stinging. In the same instant that I started to climax, my tears broke free.

I came, crying.

I did it again, thinking about what he deserved, what I would do. Why. I just let my mind meander around, tossing awful scenarios out, and hearing myself say “yes” to everything, anything.

I came, crying. I did it again. And one more time for good measure.

That’s where submission to my Daddy pushes me. He grabs me deep in my heart. He takes me right there, to where I straddle the ledge of everything that terrifies me and everything that turns me on. Everything that hurts, and makes me shudder, and everything that makes me shiver with desire. It’s all right there, in a little tangle. That’s where he touches me, right there in the center of this knotted web of everything I know how to feel. It hurts, but it feels so good.

No wonder I cry when I come for him.


Responses

  1. Oh, Lg. I too love that tangle of emotions and sex. For me one of the primary motivations for my masochism is not the physical sensation/pleasure of pain but the emotional release that comes under the hand of someone else’s sadism.
    Tears and orgasms are a both a point of vulnerability and surrender. To offer them both at once… or rather, to have them taken with a touch … is breathtaking.

    Thank you for sharing this.


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