Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 137135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Not everyone is meant to come into your life and stay to the end of it. Some people enter your world, perform their purpose—whatever they’re meant to teach you about life—and then once they complete that task, they leave. I learned so much from Art, and we’re still very good friends. But things were stagnant as far as our marriage goes, and not the kind that just needs a little spice added. There wasn’t really anything to rekindle. We were more roommates than anything, especially at the end, when I let him play with a true masochist, a sub who needed the sadism Art could provide.
Seeing the relief and joy on her face, and seeing not only those same emotions on Art’s but also the pure erotic pleasure he couldn’t disguise—I knew I’d never be able to make him feel that way. And I didn’t want to. If the only way to make him feel such bliss was to take the pain the other sub took that night, there was no way in hell I was ever going to be the one to do that. Ain’t no fucking way.
He drew blood with the dragon tail whip. And the more he broke her skin, the more desperately she begged for more, tears streaming down her face as her eyes met mine at the edge of the scene, mouthing her thank-yous to me over and over.
Welts? Hickies? Scratches? Handprints? Bruises so deep they turn black and blue? Fine. In fact, totally hot. Even bitemarks make me wet. But the second you draw blood…
I’m out.
That girl? I have no idea how she could even sit for the next two weeks while her ass and thighs healed from what I would’ve found torturous.
But it was at the end of that scene I finally understood what a relationship between a true sadist and a true masochist could be like. She needed that pain the way that I need to please people.
Not giving her that pain would be the same as telling me I’m not allowed to comfort someone.
Not making her bleed equated to someone hatefully snapping at me that they don’t want or need my help.
I don’t know that sub’s life story. Doc linked us up with her when we agreed to try his experiment, to allow Art to fully give in to his sadism and release it as much as he could, to see if it really was what he needed, since he’d never been able to before. Not that far—not with me. But whatever that young woman went through in life to make her crave such physical pain, it made my heart ache for her. And then the ache went away when I saw how far gone into subspace she floated. I could only hope those moments in heaven were worth whatever she’d experienced in her past.
I blink back to the present and decide I’ll take my time and great pleasure in setting up my new Fetlife profile. With so many options to choose from as far as sex, sexual orientation, relationship, and D/s relationship statuses, it makes one deep-dive into their own mind and really think about who they are and who they want to be. And on this site, it makes it easy to just say “fuck it” and put it out there, be who and whatever you want. If I so desired, I have the option to say I’m an asexual unicorn in a relationship with The Universe as its pig boy.
Instead, I choose the ones that feel true to myself. Straight, unowned female. I pick submissive, although I’m surprised to discover there are other options that are quite… titillating as I think about applying them to me as I read down the list.
Dominant
Domme
Switch
Submissive
Master
Mistress
Slave
Kajira
Kajiras
Top
Bottom
Sadist
Masochist
Sadomasochist
Disciplinarian
Kinkster
Fetishist
Swinger
Hedonist
Sensualist
Exhibitionist
Voyeur
Daddy
Mommy
Caregiver
Babygirl
Babyboy
Ageplayer
Little
Middle
Big
Brat
Princess
Slut
Doll
Toy
Cougar
Bull
Hotwife
Stag
Vixen
Cuckoldress
Cuckold
Cuckquean
Feminizer
Sissy
Furry
Pet
Kitten
Pup
Pony
Handler
Primal
Primal Predator
Primal Prey
Spanko
Spanker
Spankee
Rigger
Rope Top
Rope Bottom
Rope Bunny
Rubberist
Leatherman
Leatherwoman
Leather Daddy
Leather Mommy
Leather Top
Leather Bottom
Leather Boy
Leather Girl
Leather Boi
Bootblack
Drag King
Drag Queen
Evolving
Exploring
Vanilla
Undecided
Princess? I wonder what that means exactly. It makes me think she receives only pleasure with no punishments. While that seems amazing at the moment, it would get boring fast. I want to be appreciated, not babied. I want to be coddled by a big, strong alpha when I don’t feel good or my feelings are hurt, giving me the sense I’m extra protected and cared for, but not all the time. I want to be the one doing most of the pampering.
Primal prey? That one makes me shiver excitedly. The thought of some… Gym-Daddy-looking man chasing after me, easily catching up to me and tackling me to the ground, tearing my clothes from my body and taking me right there, all growly and delicious above me? Fuck.
“That would give anyone a wetty,” I tell Kronk, who sighs and rolls to his other side to face away from me. The cat is obviously over my shit.
Other things make me pause, wondering what the hell they could be. A spanko? A middle? A rubberist? What—like that person in the all-black Latex catsuit in the first season of American Horror Story who keeps showing up in the sex-addict husband’s dreams?