I had been feeling off for some time. My communication of needing to submit and surrender to my husband was not being made clear. I want you to hurt me, I want to feel how much I can take for you. His look of confusion should have said it all but his words hit straight to my core, I don’t really need this. We were on completely different pages and I was wearing my vulnerable heart on my bare sleeve. How do you say that you feel like a better wife when you sit at his feet? How do you say that you feel loved when he takes what he wants and holds your head down on his cock as you fight to not gag him out. How do you say that you need this?!
From my vantage point I had searched my entire adult life for something I thought did not exist- what could be more than love? What could be more than getting married, having his children, and saying I Love You? What could possibly task me to show him and really live the love I so proudly say that I have for him? It's too simple (and incorrect by the way) to say that my submission and surrender is just about sex. Again, from my vantage point I had just discovered the cure for cancer, the fountain of youth, AND Jimmy Hoffa’s fucking grave site! My heart was ripped wide open when I discovered submission. The answer to every question I have ever asked and every prayer I ever prayed. I don’t just love him I SERVE HIM. HOLY. SHIT. Christmas morning! Only I had not even considered it might not be his Christmas morning and I was absolutely unprepared for that.
His words were lost on me, all I heard was different versions of I don’t love/want you that way. Just as he needed to be honest and share his thoughts, I had to be honest and share mine. As per my usual, I spent time inside myself first. I was utterly broken and felt more rejected by him than I ever remember feeling in all our lives together. I spent days feeling just hollow. I no longer felt that I belonged at his feet. I no longer felt that what I was giving to him was any more than being an annoying partner and a cheap slut. He can make me squirt cum. I didn't want to cum, I didn't deserve to cum. It was ugly and selfish and I couldn't believe I ever let go like that. I hated ever wanting more than love with him. I fell so easily into wanting to serve him that it ripped my soul out as I had to remind myself that I had no place at his feet. And most certainly, that ever wanting to cum/be spanked/tied up/fucked/dominated just solidified how off track I was.
When I finally did talk it was because my sadness became unbearable. I couldn't breathe. I laid in our bed and felt, hopeless. He thought I was angry- and that’s when I found my voice. I’m actually not angry at all...I’m just......sad. You said that you married the old Pearl but this is me too. I remember crying, unable to find my breath for so long. He asked me if doing all those things really felt like love to me, and without a moment of thought, I answered him. Yes. Complex question with a very simple answer. Yes. The fact that he asked me that question made me think that he had already decided on his answer. I had chosen to submit to him and trust him unconditionally, and I felt that I would soon be agreeing to end this part of us. He held me and I felt as though I was grieving.
I don’t ever want to come like I do anymore. I almost whispered it out. My head on his chest my arms and body facing his. I was curled so tightly into him I wanted to feel no separation. He softly asked me Why? Again, I whispered Because it's stupid. I think he felt my sadness in that moment. He held me so close and lovingly and told me how much he loves me and how much he loves that I can cum for him. I explained myself as best I could. Being this for you has made me feel…alive! I don’t want a pillow on the floor just to fuck you on. I want a pillow on the floor when I sit next to you. It makes me feel feminine. To remind me of what I’m doing and where I belong with us. He had no idea. How could he. I asked for a pillow in the middle of sucking his cock I’m sure.
The night he (almost) broke my heart…..Oh thank God for HAPPY ENDINGS! He told me that the last few days had been horrible. Those very days that I felt I was giving him what he wanted. Those very days I worked so hard to avoid serving and submitting to him. Those very days that I stayed off my knees and off the floor and out of our bed. Those very days that my heart was being torn out and ruined.
I was on my back next to him, naked. My legs open as his right hand slides up my inner thigh, fingers dipping inside me, whispering into my ear. Cum for me. Oh how I like the warmth of his words in my ear. Sliding fingers in and up. He knows my body so well. Cum for me, babe. His left arm curled around the back of my head as he takes my nipple between his fingers, squeezing and rolling. Pain is so closely related to pleasure for me. I push against his hand to feel, more. My orgasm builds and I shook my head no over and over to make the sensations go away. Equal parts of wanting to give him anything he asked for and never wanting to offer myself as a gift worth receiving ever again. A true hell for a wife who has no need for her own heart, everything I have/am/will ever be is wrapped up in one simple truth. I was made for him. My intent in life is for his to be better and brighter. How could I ever do that if I wasn't seeing myself as a gift for him? I came. Not because I wanted sex or because I wanted to be touched or because I wanted to be taken care of. I came because he told me that HE wanted me to. I came because I love him and he loves me right back.