I told her to sleep on the rug next to my bed, i think it was a mistake. She was open vulnerable, tender,  in need of assurance, tenderness not to be push away. Yeah i fuck up i was 26 not an excuse but a reason for my stupidity. she was 33 with two kids, a bubbly  personality with a bit of a mom belly,  hips that she did not recognized and stretch marks that she pretended that was not hers. She was in the wrong body, wrong life, with responsibilities that she resented. I was more than just a good fuck, or s strong hand, i was to dumb to inexperience to know what she needed me to be. I was coming down my high my dick was no longer hard my senses no longer had  a hold of me, she was a mess, sweat, tears and all other liquids was emanating from her. Why did i do the things that i did? and why in the hell did she let me? i was mad at myself for letting that side of me take hold. She was still panting mascara running, with her two hands between her thighs digging in the rub with her hollow eyes peering up at me on the bed. "Stop trying to read me" her breathing was starting to slow down " I'm not" she answered. sweat running down her welted breast mouth slightly agape, her tongue scoop something up from the corner of her mouth as she reach her forehead and pull her greasy, sticky hair back, with both eyes close she moan. Dam she makes it to easy for me. Her other hand reach for the comforter between my legs, i swatted it away, "your sleeping on the floor tonight" her face responded with confusion but her eyes with hurt. I't was suppose to be after care, holding, assurance that she was mine and no ones else. pride, selfishness and ego mix with lust, testosterone is the recipe for beguile stupidity. i can tell that i was scarring her. I toss her a blanket and a pillow of the bed and told her, " go wash your ass.' It was the mixture of coco chanel, sweat, semen, funk me, jell, among's other things that was aggravating  my mood." your mad at me?"  she ask without making eye contact. head down hair covering her face but i knew she was sobbing. Reaching up she grab both of my hands, "you enjoyed this, we both did, you know i wanted this, I need you, don't push me away." Lips quivering along with the rest of her. In her state of panic she look pathetic, weak, "I belong to you and only you" she sniffled. Those emotional tears started moving me. " you've lowered and debased me, I'm no good for anyone else, i'm yours." she poured it on the more she felt me grow. I reach down to the left of her and grab the rope, less then three seconds i had both her wrist loop and tied. shock by my aggression and speed, she wince in pain. In one swift motion i had the rope over the harness on my ceiling. she was on her toes, armed stretched to the ceiling back arch ass out. "Hey man you want us to leave?" said one of the fellows in the living room, "yeah make sure not to forget or leave anything behind." 

DISCLAIMER

For the love of all that is secret do not contact me and waist my time if you are:

1. Crazy.
2. A liar.
3. Delusional.
4. On medication.
5. Or need to be on medication.
6. The pictures on your profile are not you.
7. You are only looking for online play?
8. Looking for some dirty talk to rub one off.
9. If you have a dick or don’t want anything to do with one.
10. If your looking for friends only, join myspace or open a facebook account.
11. If your pic are five years old, then you are contacting me five years to late.

I’m not a telepath nor do I have telekinesis abilities, you reach out to me with a few words, pasting together a few sentences and impatiently await my diagnosis. I’m not Frued nor am I a physician I can’t prescribed you a couple of spankings some hair pulling, some ruff sex and have you call me in the morning. After living a non existence life, going through the day to day motions of life like a gerbil on a ferries wheel. Being in relationships with those that are incapable of understanding you, incapable of finding your pulse. The frustration of not being able to articulate your true desires. Loathing him for not being more assertive, to have his way with you even against your will. You Have found your way here to the lifestyle, to the calling, to CM. Now you wait for me to say the perfect thing to combat your anxieties and fears, fears of submitting, fears of lustfull pleasures. On the ledge silently impatiently you wait. 

She came to me out of necessity out of desperation she came to me soul full of needs heart full of desires head full of confussion she came to me. At first I thought her profile was a fake so many scams on this website. She later explain why her profile was so abscured, she is married and wanted to protect her identity. She gave me a brief history on how her journey down the rabbit hole led to CM, (it’s funny how one way or another, if you belong to this lifestyle you find your way here).  

“ All my life i’ve been a good girl, a good girl for my mom and dad” she explained.

“I did as I was told, all the while my younger sister did all the partying,all the whoring, I envied her boldness her freedom, but it was not my roll to play she was the wild child I was the good one.” I lisend intensely to what she said also to what was not being said.

“Later on I got married and I'm a good wife to my husband. Shortly after a good mother to my daughter. I'm being good to everybody but myself, I felt like I'm living the wrong life, my happiness is full with inner sadness. My husband is weak, I hated him for what he cannot be, his love making is inept, i view him as a scoccer mom,” All her emotions came pouring out as she spoke, she was starting to sobbed she was vulnerable.I reach behind the nape of her neck and began to stroke, until I had a handful of her hair that I pulled back guiding her head toward mine. She reacted by moaning and bearing her teeth in pain.

“ And what is it you want from me.” I whispered in her ear.

“I want you to set me free daddy” she grunded back.

“yeah, how am I suppose to do that?” I demanded.

“ By making me bad, I want you to use me, use me hard daddy.” She whimpered

“ Yeah is that what you want or what you need.” I press on.

“Daddy I stop being able to make that disdinguishment a long time ago” she answerd.

It's late and my restlessness is building into anxiety. I'm trying to be patient and reassure her, guide her, mentor her. It's one step forward and two steps back, she's scared to answer her true calling, she's scared to give into her desires. She wants to play online, dance near the line, play with fire and get goose bumps rather than stepping in and allowing the fire to consume her. I wait, for what i need from her cannot be taken it have to be given. In my s solitude bound by rules of engagements Mr Hyde waits, in the dark teeth bear he waits for her curiosity to peek.

It was Valentine's Day, and the lounge was jam packed. It was a smorgasbord of enticing mussels, a feast for the eyes. The sweet scent of liquor, exotic oil, perfume and estrogen gave a newly found swagger to my walk. With both hands in my pockets I stood still and surveyed my domain. My testosterone was at an all-time high. The endless possibilities of potential conquest for the night made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. From the opposite end of the galaxy my eyes fell on hers, she gave me a special smile that was only meant for me. The one that said "I'm all yours" I knew that smile well. I saw it thousands of mornings but no words ever accompanied it. I in turn grinned like the little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. I shook my head in amazement. It's been ten years and her beauty has not faded, just morphed from a free spirited youthfulness to a gorgeous maturity.
From a sea of beauties her face shone like a beacon. My now swagger less steps made their way towards her. She wore a colorful shawl and a form fitting mini skirt outfit, and was perched on her bar stool with such elegance and grace. Once upon a time she use to my pretty bird, a rainbow lorikeet, a true testament of God's hand made. "Hey you" she greeted me. I responded in kind. Our small talk was plagued with awkwardness. She then decided to put both of us at ease. "We should change the venue" she suggested. We made our way to a cafe adjacent to the lounge. Our booth was at a dim corner at the far end of the joint, with a faint notion of jazz playing in the background. Away from prying eyes, loud music and gyrating pelvis, our conversation flowed like that of old. Rather than by passing potential landmines in our conversation she stepped right in and began to explain why although the relationship took off like a rocket, it was unable to soar.
"It was never, you it was me" she went on. "You know how you use to call me pretty bird all the time? Well as it turns out my wings are broken" she sighs under the burden of such self-revelation, I leaned in closer. She looked away hand in front of her mouth, so I grabbed the other one in mine. Her revelation went into her sessions with her therapist, and how she has been diagnosis as being emotionally detached. Also she is unable to feel empathy for others. The list was long, with potentially suppressed sexual abuse, and a need to substitute physical pain for emotions. Not being able to reach the summit during copulation without being degraded and physically abused. I was utterly astounded, mouth all agape, but all the pieces from my puzzled past started to fall into place. Why she behaved like she did, and why she did this and said that, back then. Seeing the look of bewilderment on my face she decided to change the mood of our conversation. "I did not mean to burden you, I just wanted you to have some form of closure in knowing." With my index finger at her lips I stopped her in mid stride. "I'm not here for apologies about the past. I can't say that I'm well versed in what you're going through, but if you need an ear, or a shoulder to lean on, well mine are broad enough for ya" I joked. She laughed. With the mood lightened we went on and had a great time. Later she asked me to drive her home and once at her door she asked me to come in.
Sure I had a game plan ever since she dropped the boom on me in that booth. I realized the mistake of my youth. The irony was the form of love making she needed. Like Tina said, "Love had nothing to do with it." Coincidently I had just gotten done reading a book called Woman on Top. It dealt with a lot of her issues, and previous to that I read another book by Iceberg Slim in which he beat a hooker and then made love to her after. Sadistic, I know but that's what she needed me to be, but with control. It's a thin line between love and hate, pain and pleasure and I was willing to walk that tight rope. 
                                           Without getting overly graphic

Like Tina Marie and Rick James said it was pain before pleasure. I commended her body with my voice and hands. Her eyes swelled up with tears as she gagged and muffled pleas. The palm of my hand stung to the point of numbness as her body welted. I watch her brace herself and bore down like a pregnant woman during childbirth as wave upon wave of orgasmic spasms possessed her body. I handled her like a whore, then soothed and comforted her once her wounds were exposed and she was vulnerable. This went on for hours until finally depleted of tears and other bodily fluids she lay on the bed panting, basking in the afterglow. In the bathroom I washed up and was still shaking from the emotional and mental roller coaster I just put myself through.

I was awakened by her finger tracing the outline of my chest and circling my nipples. Her eyes were crystal clear then she smiled, the one that I have seen a thousand times, the one that said that she was "all mine. " "I love you G" she whispered and then kissed my morning breath. I got dressed as she pranced about on cloud nine babbling none stop, singing in between and begging me to stay for breakfast. I declined and made my way to the door, "call me later we can make plans or just hangout" she requested "yeah we can do that" I responded. We kissed and parted ways.