Snapshots

A few moments of time standing still, from the last few weeks:

A very intense, slow and sexually charged scene between B and I, watched by O - lying in bed next to him, I was pushing against his control, physically, with a battle of wills on a sexual level, as I pushed and pulled at his skin very slowly, digging my nails in, staring intensely into his eyes, as he gave me a little bit of power over him, let me get away with it for just long enough for it to mean something when he took it back again. Then the kiss which followed: passionate and frantic, after controlled and restrained energy.

It's only fun when you know you won't be allowed to get away with it for much longer. Which is why I enjoyed slapping and kicking at him, knowing he was holding himself back and finding it amusing, only retaliating with spanking, until he'd had enough and they both pinned me down for a thorough smacking and whipping, and his arms held mine behind my back as I lay face down with red welts across my bottom, struggling and crying and pleading, as she forcibly brought me to orgasm.

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B and O kissing, the light streaming in the window, dawn breaking, draining the colour to a sepia photograph, so beautiful, so perfect, making my heart turn over.

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His hood falls over his face as he pushes me back on the bed, towering over me, his eyes meeting mine, a sense of menace, a dark stain, holding me down, I struggle slightly, meeting with such utter resistance I am still with prescience. He pulls at my clothes, fingers digging in to flesh. He picks me up, deposits me in such a way that my pussy is presented to her. She's fucking my pussy while he pushes his cock between my breasts, they are both straddling me.

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I'm drunk...I hit him in the face. He sees stars. My eyes are terrified when I realise what I've done. He's going to fucking beat the shit out of me. He holds me down, I beg, 'sorry, sorry, please, don't' over and over. He's got me so wet, now he kisses me, and I'm not sorry at all.

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Struggling so hard as B and O pinned me down, trying to get the cuffs on me, that B's thumb got cut on something and bled all over the place, meaning we had to stop so he could get a plaster. He only had one of those jaunty blue catering plasters which amused me no end. At least it didn't have Mr Bump on it or big purple dinosaurs or anything.

“You have no power over me”

I’m back, and better than before. I’ve re-activated my profile on IC and fetlife, re-activated most of the old weblogs, and I’m getting to use it again like I wanted to, like I enjoyed so much before.

Within half an hour of doing so, I got a nasty memo on ic from my ex, followed by a very emotional harassment email. I’ve set my ic profile to block her, and instructed my email programme to dump future emails from her straight in the archive, but it’s still a bit worrying. She’s still calling - phonecalls, texts, emails, memos - and I’m genuinely concerned for her that she’s having so much trouble moving on. She seems to be under the impression that everyone on ‘the scene’ is out to get me now, following my ‘crusade’ against her. Since I haven’t actually contacted her AT ALL since we split up, apart from texting her to say ’stop contacting me’, and deliberately took down my profile for two months to help her stop obsessing over me, it’s all a bit odd. Oh well, I guess everybody has had a ‘difficult ex’ situation at some point in their life. I’m more interested in getting on and living my life, the way I want to.