It started Saturday.
I was exhusted. I had started my new job on Wednesday, and they had asked me to work Saturday instead of Thursday just as I got the confirmation for a cleanup shift on Friday at the Citadel.. I had managed both. Work at 9 on Saturday after getting back to my apartment at 3 a.m.
I caved. And I drank a Red Bull to get through the day.
I’m not supposed to have Red Bull. It’s a rule from Ryan. For the most part I’ve managed to swear off of them relatively well…but every now and again I cave.
I made another mistake. After drinking the energy drink to power up the fumes I had left, I caved and told my Daddy. What’s the point of rules and rituals if you don’t follow them? I broke the rules. I new I would be punished for it. I expected it.
Daddy took my orgasms away for a week. By the time he gave me my punishment it was late afternoon. I was exhausted, the drink having worn off, and cranky. Daddy had a date later in the evening that would be a sleepover. I was..fuming, and a little hurt. Ryan had promised me that he would let me cum at least once when we played together in person.. I cum incredibly easily, and almost always will go over that lovely edge when he growls at me to ‘cum with Daddy’. I had asked for a comprimise, reminded him of his promise… and didn’t hear back until Ryan was heading off to bed for the evening. I tried not to stew, to shake off the hurt I felt, and go with the flow of the day. He ended the day by saying he was sure that a compromise could be reached and we would talk about it tomorrow. I went to bed smiling and feeling better, looking forward to a date the next day.
I got to Ryan’s long after his date from the night before had left. She’s a sweet girl, and has always been kind to me…but she triggers so many insecurities in me. She’s gorgeous, and the amount that Ryan WANTS her is palpable… and at times, has made me feel invisible. I don’t think I’m ugly. I know I’m pretty…cute, even. But I know my brand of sexy isn’t exactly Jessica Rabbit. She… well… she gets the man that won’t touch my leather vest to wear those natural sheep condoms so they can fuck because she’s allergic to latex. The longer Ryan and this lovely creature have played, the more I’ve noticed Ryan going soft mid fuck, Ryan not initiating play, Ryan not kissing me hello…and I’ve wanted to hide. To cry. To kick myself and tell myself I’m seeing things. That comparason isn’t good and that there were reasons for all the things that had nothing to do with the pretty. Fatigue, a packed schedule, the wear and tear of helping me through the holidays.
We went grocery shopping, and he wasn’t himself. Ryan often mentiones how my emotions are visible on my face, even when I tell him nothing’s wrong. He’s very similar. For a lazy afternoon leading to a meditation in the evening, Ryan seemed incredibly tightly wound. I was cooking him dinner in an effert to save him money and do something special for him, and was grabbing food for the meal while he did his normal grocery shopping.
We got back to his apartment and I jumped into prep, beginning to pull out mixing bowls and pots. Halfway through reaching through a baby pot Ryan comes over to me and touhes my shoulder. “Before dinner I have to tell you something kind of heavy.” I had a bowl in my hand, was cornered in his kitchen between him and a wall, and literally had nowhere to run.
He ‘accidentally’ had unprotected anal sex with his play partner. It wasn’t talked about. It’s not something they plan on happening again. He felt horrible for fucking up and he understood if this changed how I looked at him. He was so sorry.
Just. Out of the blue. I didn’t know how to respond. I asked if I could start cooking. Cooking helps. Creating helps. It lets me process and think.
He had me hug him first and went out for a smoke. I cut up mushrooms and cried in the sink, then did my best to pretend I was okay when he walked back in. Ryan felt like crap already, I could see that. I didn’t want to make it worse.
Over and over, as the evening went on I chewed on the thought in my mind. How does one ACCIDENTALLY have unprotected anal sex? It’s not like it’s an easy slip of ‘oh you’re grinding, ooops it slipped in once’ like with vaginal. That.. requires prep. And lube. And toying. And plenty of time to stop and put on a damn fucking condom.
I didn’t have much of an appetite for dinner. I tried to joke and goof around and be normal. I accepted Ryan’s appologies and extra attention as he pet me, taught me simple rope tricks, gifted me with rope he wasn’t using… tried his best to make what he could up to me and show I mattered. All the while my brain kept fucking with me. ‘He could have stopped. He didn’t. He should have stopped. He didn’t. He just. Did it. He wants her so badly that he didn’t give a fuck and just…did it.’
By the time Ryan left for his meditation I was an even split of angry and wounded. There have been several times that I’ve tried dressing up and doing something special for a date with Ryan and… he just didn’t have the energy for play. And the more that happens the more the sexy times part of me hides, thinking it has to be me. I don’t have enough za za zoo to peaque his interest when he’s tired. With her, the za za zoo is so damn strong, the desire so damn strong, he threw logic out the window completely. He stopped giving a fuck and just wanted to fuck her. Insult was added to injury when I saw that there were her special condoms left in his apartment.. It’s not like it was bareback or nothing. It was a conscious choice.
I don’t have any say in who Ryan sees, nor would I really want to control my partner in that way. But I am allowed to feel what I feel. I actually trust her for the most part. She is sweet and has always been open and kind with me.
I don’t trust Ryan with her. I no longer trust him to think with more than his dick around her. There’s always been a chase element with her. When they started seeing one another she was owned and collared by someone else. The more Ryan got told ‘no’ the more he pushed back, the more he wanted. The idea of them having another overnight anytime soon makes me really, really uncomfortable. And I hate that.
I hate that, right now, I don’t fully trust him not to do it again.
I stewed. I cried. Ryan’s cat came up and snuggled me as I debated the idea of just leaving for the evening to lick my wounds in peace.
This wasn’t a situation that I was going to be able to fix overnight. I knew that. There was.. a lot of hurt, and quite a bit of betrayal the more I thought about it. I hurt, a dull ache in my chest I attempted to ignore, and I continued to mull over everything.
I wanted to feel wanted by Ryan… that would definitely ease some of the hurt. I wanted his hands on me. I wanted him biting me, and pulling my hair, and fucking me and filling me with cum and re-establising that link between he and I. I wanted him… As corny as it sounds, that desire became a bit of a balm on a lot of the hurt. Just show me that you still want me. That this slip didn’t happen because you want her so much more and I’m just the thing that’s… there, doing the dishes, cooking dinner, running errands and following rules..
When Ryan got home I let myself appreciate how handsome my partner is. I kissed him, and nuzzled, and bit, and crawled into his lap and turned my best sexy on.. and honestly it felt fantastic. Ryan hasn’t kissed me like he did tonight in.. a long time. It was an epic makeout session. I LOVE making out, and it’s something we almost never do anymore. He had my panties wet and my toes curling, and I tried to be as forward as I could manage.
“I want my Daddy. ”
“Please do bad things to me, Daddy.”
He tickled, touched, and kissed me. I slipped from his lap to the floor and he carved up my back and front with knives I had given him eons before. He called me a beautiful canvas, showed me the gorgeous marks now on my back, and I melted.
I tried to be forward again and pawed playfully at his pants, wanting to play with my lollipop.
“I don’t think I’m up for that type of play tonight, sweetie.”
Immediate shrinking, recoiling, a fresh wave of pain and rejection. So you’ll fuck the pretty thing senseless without restrain but there’s no energy for me?
“May I explain why? Guilt. Shame.”
It didn’t make the hurt stop.. but I understood more. I said I wanted to do the things for the reconnection. I didn’t share how badly I wanted to feel wanted. That I wanted him face fucking me, and pulling my hair, leaving bite marks all over me and fucking me senseless before filling me with his cum. I had reached my limit on vulnerability. I couldn’t take another blow to the ego.
At the request for reconnection he smiled and grabbed me by the hair to lead me into the bedroom. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding as he pushed me onto the bed and wrapped his hand around my throat.
For a little while it was glorious. Rough grabs, pressure on my chest, pain and power and tickling and laughing. I waited for him to pull off his shirt, to crawl on top of me; for that pleasant, safe feeling of him surrounding me.
He tried to be very sweet. The touch changed to gentle, tantric tracing of my face and body. I wanted to scream. Any other day it wouldn’t have been beautiful.. but I NEEDED MY DADDY. I needed my Daddy to take what was his and make me feel wanted. He was trying to make me feel beautiful and spoiled…and sweet and gentle just started feeling like pity and guilt.. which then turned to shame on my end. My body language changed. I felt myself curling into a ball as Ryan continued to touch me. I knew he was trying to help, didn’t want him to feel bad. Knew that any other day his tender touches and attention would have me feeling like a goddess. That him saying he wanted it to be all about me would make me feel like his spoiled princess. But I could feel myself crashing horribly.
I ran out of the bedroom when given the chance to and grabbed the one thing that I thoght would keep me from crashing. Ryan’s kindle. He had read to me on a previous date, a fantasy novel that we are both reading, and I felt soothed and protected; like the best place in the world was in Daddy’s arms listening to his voice. It relaxed me almost instantly before, and I hoped it would at least calm me down for a little bit.
I curled up into his side with my favorite stuffie and slowly settled, lulled by the cadence of his voice. The sad was there, the rejection was still there, but the tears stopped. My breathing returned to normal, and for a couple chapters I relaxed in his arms.
We made a date for Tuesday and I left later than planned. He sent me a text on the way home thanking me for not running away. The only way out of pain is through it. To run away from pain is to run directly into it.
This. Hurts like a mother fucker. But Ryan is one of the sweetest, most loving souls that I’ve ever had in my life. He’s normally attentive, fiercely protective of me, and constantly sharing knowledge when he has it. I’m not going to bolt for something he admits to being a major fuckup. He knows it was wrong. He is remorseful.
But..it was a fuck up. And right now, everything hurts.
It will settle. We will talk more and it will get better. It was a mistake. and I know that.
I just wish I could stop crying.
yours, still alive