So much activity and expectation.
In my career.
Not so much in our bedroom (or anywhere else it is we choose to play).
No disconnect, just reality.
"No disconnect", my heart could just sing that phrase.
My partner, my Man, is loving me through every anxiety ridden moment. He is patient, he has no interest in breaking me. I am not like some of the amazingly strong sub's who can do it all. I cannot. There is a fine line between Pearl at her best and a broken down shell of the woman I want to be.
I now have a schedule, he sets.
I cannot see beyond the insurmountable end result at times. His schedule guides me.
He believes in me. He gives me a map for reaching my goal.
When I said I am not one of those strong subs, I think I was wrong.
I am strong, because I am HIS, and because I am succeeding in what W/we have decided is my role in our home.
I have mistakenly thought that the only good sub is the sub who cares for the home, has dinner on the table, keeps it all tidy and orderly, and still serves with the every ounce of passion requested.
If this is truly the bar I set, I have never and will never be worth anything.
My Man felt the need to adjust my schedule. Threatening that if he didn't like the pants I was wearing so much he would rip out the crotch and finger me right there in the truck.
I am not focused. I start to talk about work.
I say I want to take you home and fuck you and you want to talk about work?
And, there is my change in focus.
I enjoyed a subspace filled ride home.
Just slow, floating.
At home, I shower and present myself to him in the basement where he is waiting.
My pillow is on the floor.
His belt is in his hand.
He has never used his belt on me.
After some time spent tasting every inch of his cock, I am instructed to face away from him and kneel on my pillow laying my body over the ottoman.
The anticipation is almost unbearable.
Each new implement he uses is my new favorite, but this time, I mean it!
He uses the belt without a single miss-hit. I can feel the absolute strength in his swing. The immediate impact is followed by the most lovely cascade of, I don't have an accurate word for it. The cascade following each strike of his belt is unlike anything I have ever felt. The further he pushed me, the deeper I went. Usually the strikes over and over on the same spot wake me up, so to speak. Not this time.
It was like I was watching us both, separately from being there.
I felt his will to test me, to push me, to swing the belt again on the soft redness he created.
And then, there I was. Sweet, soft wetness, seeping out of me. Body slowly pulsing and arching for more. This is my beauty. I begged for permission.
Either his fingers inside me or his belt on my skin reminding me of both our strength, I cum because of him.
He uses his belt to hold my head down on his cock.
This is punishment for not taking my cum in so long.
Open wider, I don't want to feel your teeth.
Drool is pouring out of my mouth as I relax and stop fighting his grip. He will let me up when it's time. He is not down my throat, he is just at my throat. I am fighting not to gag. I stop fighting. I suppress my gag with focused thoughts. He is training his girl. It's not my sensation to fight. I am on his cock because there is no reason to gag him out. This is HIS throat to fuck if he chooses to fuck it. For now, this punishment is to refocus me. Head held down with the belt, his cock at my throat, stealing small breaths as I open for him. Staying still until my efforts have pleased him.
He loosens the belt allowing my head up for a few moments.
His grip tightens a bit. Training.
I open wider.
He pulls me down. Belt tight in his grip and at the base of my neck.
No matter where else I fuck you today, I am cumming in your mouth.
My heart is absolutely open to his will.
I relax my tongue away from my throat. His throat to fuck. He pulls me deeper. After a short time, I gag. He gives me another chance to please him. Training...punishment....
I am treated to more lashings with the belt after he cums.