Kneeling before Him...
Creative Commons License.
Cunning Linguists Journals
Yes Master BDSM Bedtime Stories Toplist
BDSM is Love
danae Within Reality
Daze Reader Sex News Blog
ErosBlog: The Sex Blog
Gloria's Oversexed Mind
Mistress Matisse's Journal
my scratching post
Monday, September 20, 2004
The main problem with my insanity is not that I take it out on anyone else. I take it out on myself. It has been said here before that I suffer from a certain amount of self-loathing and it is certainly showing right now. I tend to use words like stupid, idiot, useless, and dumb when I refer to myself or any ideas I have. I qualify everything I say by pointing out that it was a silly idea in the first place and I answer my own questions negatively before the other person even gets to speak. It quickly gets on people's nerves.
Sarah: Want to go get some ice cream? You don't have to if You don't want to. I just thought maybe, but it is a silly idea. I know You have more important things to do. I was just being stupid.
Everything also becomes a huge deal. This is rather a bad thing as my concentration span is very short right now, and I am having great difficulty multi-tasking. The little things that I normally do without thought just keep going wrong. If I didn't take it all so utterly serious at the time, it would be quite funny.
Burnt toast makes me a failure as a girlfriend and somehow relates to my sexual prowess. (Don't ask me how, but it made perfect sense to me at the time.)
Mac and I have talked about this before, about how my putting myself down affects not only me, but Him too. He hates it when I call myself an idiot, or stupid or useless. He feels that my need to self-flagellate with words is not that much different then me taking a knife and cutting my skin. I make a wound even if we can't see it. In some ways I think it is worse because a cut on my skin I can watch heal. I can feel it get better and know that I am healing with it. Words sometimes take years to lose their sting.
Mac also says that when I use these words to put myself down, I am disrespecting Him. I am saying that His choice of partner is an idiot and dumb. I am saying that He was wrong to make me His. I am calling His girlfriend, the woman that He loves, stupid and useless and He wouldn't put up with that from anyone else and He feels He should not have to put up with it from me. He has always insisted that I tell Him the truth and now He tells me that if this is the truth, what choice does He have but to believe me. I don't want Him to believe that I am an idiot and stupid. I don't want Him to think I am not worth His love.
So I try my best to be a good girl and I very rarely ever do these things to myself. I very rarely even do it in my mind. Most of the time when I look into the mirror, I see His girl smiling back at me. Most of the time when He pays me a compliment, I accept it in good grace as the truth. Last night though, well...
Mac: You are beautiful.
Sarah: I am a mess! I haven't even done anything with my hair.
Mac: Nice ass.
Sarah: This skirt makes it look huge.
Mac: You look good in that top.
Sarah: It is too tight across my breasts.
Mac: (after I had told Him a joke) You are funny.
Sarah: Yep, I am sure there is a nice padded cell waiting for me somewhere.
At this point Mac threw His hands up in defeat and went to His study. It wasn't that anything I had said was really bad on it's own, just that every time He tried to be nice, I put myself down until He couldn't be bothered trying anymore.
So I found myself kneeling before Him in His study and I told Him I was sorry while big fat tears slid silently down my cheeks. I really was sorry. I hadn't meant to be mean to myself or to toss away His gifts. I love it when He tells me I am beautiful or that I look good. I don't ever want Him to stop saying those things to me. I don't ever want to be the cause of Him not saying them.
He shook His head at me and told me to climb up onto His lap. I don't think He was angry, more disappointed that I felt a need to treat myself this way. I sat in His lap and He kissed away my tears and then held me and we sat there for a little while in silence.
He smelt so good. He smelt of sunshine and outdoors. He smelt of health and vigour. He smelt of Maleness and strength. I could have stayed there all night just smelling Him only there was an incessant throbbing between my legs. I could not be this close to Him without being incredibly turned on.
At first Mac ignored my roving hands travelling over His shirt until I pulled it up and ran my nails over His chest. He asked me what I was doing, but I didn't answer, I just hid my face in the nape of His neck and let my hands go lower. My tongue snuck out to taste His skin and He shivered.
'What do you want?' He asked.
Your cock.' I whispered into His neck. My body was flushed with desire and I was blushing in embarrassment at my need.
'Sarah, you can't cure everything with sex.'
'I don't want to cure everything, I just want to fuck You right now and cure this.'
He didn't say no, so I assumed that meant yes and I wriggled around in the chair until I was facing Him.
'You have to stop putting yourself down.' He said and I was already guiding His cock inside me.
'I will. I promise.' I said. He grabbed my arms and made me look into His eyes.
'I mean it.' He said. 'It has to stop. You are no longer allowed to use stupid, dumb, idiot or useless when you are talking about yourself. Understand?'
He still had a hold of my arms and though His cock was resting against my pussy, I didn't try and get Him inside me. I knew that He meant this and that He wasn't going to let it get passed by. I bowed my head.
'Yes, Sir.' I said. 'I promise I will try my best not to use those words for me again.'
'Good girl.' He whispered and He let go of my arms and drew my mouth to His. We kissed while I guided Him inside me. I gave myself up to the delicious feeling of His cock deep inside and because it felt so good and because His chair is not designed for vigorous fucking and because He wanted to be close to me too, I just sort of rocked on Him and squeezed Him with my muscles and we kissed until He came. He made it last as long as He could, enjoying the feel of me on His cock enough not to want to come straight away. I didn't mind.
After His orgasm was complete, I tucked myself into His shoulder and listened to His heartbeat. I let His smell invade my mind again, only this time, He also smelt like sex. I would have stayed there all night, except apparently His legs go numb when I sit on them like that for long enough.
So I am determined to be nice to myself from now on, until it becomes habit to be nice to myself again. I know I can do it. I am His girl after all.
And I don't want to disappoint Him again.