The Collared Coed

I spent yesterday with Sir, mostly unwinding from a long week that He had. We cuddled and watched television and drank coffee and just squashed ourselves together on the couch without worrying about phone calls or work. We discussed the fact that the contract we have now is ending soon. I have to give the collar back while we discuss the next level of my training and our new agreement.

I think we hit new territory yesterday.

I cried.

I cried during our play. While we were talking, He undressed me. Then He positioned my arms and legs and made me maintain a certain position. Fuck. I loathe when He does that, because it’s AGONIZING. Downright agonizing.

Then He slapped my face. Backhanded it. Then slapped me. Again, and again, and again.

I didn’t know why, but the act of maintaining the position while being slapped brought tears of frustration to my eyes. I felt them filling with tears. He paused for a second. Then continued.

I cried. I kept crying. It wasn’t that it hurt a lot. I was crying out of helplessness.

“Why are you crying?” He asked. I said I didn’t know and He slapped me again.

“I don’t know what you want!” I sobbed. It seemed like the right answer.

Then He asked me if this is what I really want. To be pushed and trained to tears. Possibly repeatedly.

Why would I want this?

I want to see what I’m capable of. I want to see if I can do this. I feel like I would come out of the other end a better person. I know I’m not weak. I know I’m not truly powerless. I know I’m not a small person.

But I want to feel powerless.

I want to be made weaker.

I want to feel small.

And then prove over and over again that I’m not really any of those things.

I want to give Him the gift of my submission, tears, sweat because I feel this deep connection that He is the one that could take me down those paths and make sure I come out whole on the other side.

He could break me and put me back together into something bigger, something more.

Why would I want this?

Because if I don’t, I’ll forever wonder if I could have done it.

I cried again when He told me that if we were to do this, He would put a clause in the contract that lets me out whenever I want.

“Why do you think I would do that, pet?”

I shrugged. Said some other, incorrect answer.

“You’ve been trapped before. You’ve felt so trapped you thought suicide was a legitimate way out. I never, ever want you to feel that way again. You are not trapped. I don’t want your submission if you don’t want to give it to me.”

Tears came back to my eyes because I felt so loved, so understood in that sentence.

I really feel like yesterday was the start of something new.

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