But, suddenly, there was a subtle, growing, unpleasant tightening inside, as my sphincter began to close around the vibration. The feeling intensified, and if felt as if I were being shocked from the inside.
So last night when we went to bed, Mr. D told me to turn on the lamp and roll over on my belly. He handcuffed and blindfolded me and began rummaging through the toy drawer (which is currently nearly empty). I was excited and happy that he was trying something new…well, not necessarily new, but different from the current status quo. It felt good for him to take control of me.
I heard the tell-tale sound my trusty blue vibrating dildo and welcomed its touch between my legs. I spread my legs and pressed my face into my pillow, pushing against the buzz with my clit. He laid it on the bed where I could move against it on my own, and he rummaged again. He spread my ass cheeks apart and dabbed a bit of lube, which made me expect anal, but instead, he inserted something small and cool. It began to vibrate, and the sensation of the two vibrations was intoxicating.
“Are you shocking my asshole?” I asked, incredulously.
And it stopped.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
He grabbed the vibrator from between my legs and shut it off. And then he unlocked the cuffs. I pushed the blindfold aside and looked at him. His face showed visible hurt. Rejection.
And yet, I hadn’t rejected anything. I has simply asked a question…to help clarify what I was feeling. I had never been shocked before. And I didn’t like the feeling at all.
What came out, in the conversation afterward was that he wanted me to trust him and that he felt that the way I reacted showed a lack of trust. I tried to explain that my trusting him wouldn’t make me like the things he did to me. He then explained that he didn’t know what he could or couldn’t do…what I would welcome and what I would hate.
I fell asleep frustrated and bewildered. I’d enjoyed everything up to the anal shocking. I was happy that he was taking control again. But it blew up and fell apart with just a few of my words. My intonation, apparently…that came out painted in sounds judgement. I guess if you are insecure or wary, everything can feel like an attack.
But, I explained that I worried it meant I could never really say how I felt without fear of hurting him or being misunderstood. Our history is always between us.
Today, he spent the majority of the day in the garage. And I watched a movie and spun downward.
Some days are just like that…blue. I hold it together for weeks at a time, months even. And then bang, like the crack of a shotgun in the night, the monster comes to call. It starts with a heaviness in the chest, and it sucks at my energy, leaving me heady and weak, like I’m dragging my own bloodless body away from a lost battle.
Depression is a black haze that makes a perfectly good day uninhabitable. So, I just go to bed and hope to wake up to a better view. Sometimes, I have to try it a few times, but I’ve always been good at getting through days when I have to.
I’ll be better tomorrow.
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