I am hurting right now. Mac just left for an appointment at a factory and I am a mess. The discussion was so simple. So very very simple. It started over the blog and the entry I wrote about being chained to the bed. He said that the women sometimes surprise Him. He expects the sex we have, the descriptions I write, to appeal more to men than they do to women, but then the women get hot and bothered over the thought of a man spurting over their tits.

He said that if asked He doubted the women would admit that this was a fantasy they had. He doubted I would either. He is right. I wouldn't. Mostly that isn't what I fantasise about. He knows this. My fantasies revolve around being restrained, being beaten, being forced and raped, being snarled at and whipped and spat on, being used totally for His pleasure with arrogance and disdain. I want to be made to beg. I want to be forced to submit to Him and anyone else He chooses for me. I want to have my head forced onto thrusting cocks while my back is beaten with a cane. I want to have cocks forced into my ass. I want to be made to please them and all the while He is snarling at me, calling me degrading names and using my hair to clean His cock. These are the fantasies I have shared here. There is nothing new in what I have just said.

Thing is and Mac knows this, these fantasies are only the tip of the depravity that occurs in my mind. These don't even go close to how dark and dangerous I crave to go. Mac dug deeper today. He pushed further into my fantasies than He has gone before. I sat quietly and listened to what He asked. I didn't know how to answer. How do you tell someone your deepest and darkest desires? How do you tell the person you trust most in the world that you cant trust them with this? I couldn't tell Him what He was asking. He asked why. I told Him that I couldn't risk His rejection. I know Him. I know how far He can be pushed. I know how much He hates the humiliation and hurting of women. I know how much He despises degradation.

He told me that He understands that some women need the degradation more than others, what He would hate would be to enjoy doing it. He told me that He doesn't mind that I masturbate to it and He doesn't mind me having secrets. I asked if He has secrets too. He said that sexually I probably know the extent of His depravity and He hoped that it didn't disappoint me. It did.

With Mac I am always looking for a darker side that I know just isn't there. He isn't the dark distant Him that has been a part of my fantasies since I was a child. He isn't Him. I told Mac that He wasn't that Him, my Him. He said He knew that. He has always known that. But He doesn't understand how much that hurts. He doesn't understand how much it scares me. I need Mac. I love Him in ways I didn't know were possible. I love Him like a child, innocently and unreservedly. I love Him completely and totally. I love Him desperately and I love Him gently. I love Him with passion and I love Him like a friend. I love Him as a student loves a favourite teacher. I love Him for everything He is. I love Him for everything He will be. I love His arrogance and His tenderness. I just love Him. I want to grow old with Him. I want to kneel beside Him until it takes two people to get me back onto my feet.

And then there is this other Him inside of me that fills the places that Mac can't touch. The other Him that pulls the secrets from me and makes me live them with Him. This other Him that hurts me and degrades me, another Him that humiliates me and loves me. A Him that carves His name on my flesh and feeds on my wounds. A Him that Mac just cant be.

Mac had to go or He was going to be late. I walked Him to the door and He kissed me, holding me tight against Him.

'Your man's cock is bulging,' He said. 'Even if your man is not Him.'

I broke down in huge wracking sobs. I couldn't catch my breath as Mac held me even tighter and told me that He didn't mean for it to hurt me, it had just been a gentle tease but He doesn't know how much I need it to be Him. I need Him to be the only Him I need.

He told me that most women have a Him in their fantasies, that it was fine. I pulled myself together and kissed Him goodbye and pushed Him out the door before He was any later than He was already going to be. I sat on the floor and cried.

I hate myself for wanting more than He can be.

I don't know how to forgive myself for that.