He started in the living room, playing with me, turning me on. Turning me on a lot. I wanted to cum. I asked permission, he said no. But he continued to play. He liked that I had asked. Of course.
Actually, he'd really been working up to it all week. Preparing my body, my nipples for this day. Working them over a fair bit, just day by day.
I was in a bit of a daze, so turned on, that's probably why I asked for more. I don't usually unless he makes me, but oh I wanted more.
Suddenly he seemed to decide it was time to get down to business. He ordered me upstairs, dropped me to my knees and clamped my tits.
From sweet and sexual to brutal in 60 seconds.
I was shocked I guess.
Damn, I'm always shocked when those clamps go on anyway, but I was shocked by the change in mood too.
I didn't think he was mad at me or annoyed or anything, just that he had his Sadist on and wanted what he wanted.
I felt owned.
Anxious about how long it might last, where he'd go next.
Submissive to following wherever it went.
Was I wearing my collar? I don't remember. Maybe. I think so.
Was there sexual play while we were there? I don't remember. Probably. Because there usually is. But I don't remember.
I remember kneeling there. Practically crying. Feeling owned by him, and glorying in it.
I think he came on me.
That doesn't sound like I was very "present" does it?