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A Cautionary Tale

By Deleted Member
in BDSM Stories & Kinky Sex Confessions

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Deleted Member

Posted

She wasn’t into labels but she knew that she craved to relinquish control, to serve, to captivate, to be captivated.

 

But she was ultimately flawed by an ugly neediness in her bones. Or so she had been led to believe.

 

She was inexperienced, and perhaps they both should have been treading more carefully. But she was content in the rollercoaster of feeling something instead of dead. The waves of feeling like she was Everything to him as he dragged her salty seas upon his shore, and then Nothing at all as he spewed her back out.

 

Perhaps her own trauma meant that it was an uncertainty she had come to expect. Perhaps she was wretched, and never to be devoured and digested, but just toyed with and discarded, like a puzzle that was too much of an endeavour once you actually got it out of the box.

 

But oh the box was so delicious! And the easy edges, which pieced together with such satisfaction in his fingertips, were just too satisfying to put away for good. 

 

He only wanted the edges.

 

But she wanted him to devour her whole. Piece by piece, like the owl in the night, and she read him her poem about it. And he just shrugged and said ‘your poetry is wasted on me’.

 

Why couldn’t she see that it was?

 

Why was she content to be his toy? 

 

Why did she love how he made her feel?

 

The sadistic glint in his eye as he grabbed her by the throat, or slapped her face, or bent her over and seized his belt.

 

His moans of pleasure, as she made her very best endeavour of sucking his cock. He didn’t even need to push her, she pushed herself, gagging and drooling, and breathless. He’d smeer the mess all over her face, slap her and remind her her fuckholes belonged to him and she would say Yes Sir, or sometimes she wouldn’t, because he wasn’t her Sir, he’d made that clear. But that just riled him and he’d push her head down and wrap his legs around her throat and delight in her struggle. And she would delight too.

 

Because that was what it was. Her struggle. 

 

And even though he would hold her. And tell her that he was proud of her. He didn’t see the struggle in her eyes. The restlessness in her body. As he sent her on her way and told her how busy he would be, or as he left her with her alone with her thoughts and continued with the easy friends whose messages he enjoyed.

 

She didn’t blame him. She understood. Why would he want her? She was a mess. He had told her often enough. 

 

So she just accepted it, like she always had.

 

That she was the flawed one. That she made him uneasy. That she was a good little fuck slut, a kind person, but just not worthy of ownership.

 

She had never even bothered to use her talented mind to consider his worthiness. She simply obeyed the bray of her heart and the arch of her back. 

 

But sometimes fragile things smash into pieces.

And sometimes they burst into flames.

 

And that last visit.

 

Something snapped.

 

His last vile words echoed through her chest instead of the waves of satisfactions after she had given her all to please him and it finally hit her that that was supposed to be pleasure enough for her. As she realised how her only evidence of his endeavour was that he kept telling her he spent more time on her than he should. Like he was almighty and she was blessed for each ***tered crumb.

 

It wasn’t all that different from the last 18 years. It wasn’t all that different from the whole of her life.

 

And all that *** of unworthiness and wretchedness from gas lighters past and present, set her on fire. 

 

But not like he might have anticipated.

 

She heard all the words that never made sense 

 

His and His and His. 

 

‘You’re a mess’

‘You’re so special’

‘You took advantage’

‘You are so kind’

‘I worry about you’

‘You’re selfish’

‘Leave me alone’

‘Your fuckholes belong to me’

‘Look at yourself’

‘You’re the best person I’ve ever known’

‘You’re just like your father’

‘No one wants you’

‘Anyone would be lucky’

‘Beautiful’

 

‘Cunt’

 

And the incantations danced right out of her head and sang a ring o roses around the room.

 

She looked up at his uncertain eyes.

 

But she didn’t feel guilt or shame at the burden she had made of herself. Instead she felt the burden of him.

 

He stroked her hair, for himself not her. 

 

‘Stop’ she said 

 

And as she moved his hand away, she noticed the bed cuffs still at the corner of the bed. 

 

She strapped his first wrist in.

 

‘What the fuck are you doing?’

 

He wasn’t happy.

 

‘Taking back control’ she told him.

 

He hadn’t expected her strength, she had always seemed to bend and break so easily. 

 

But now his other hand was secured too.

 

‘We didn’t agree to this. This was not our arrangement!’

 

‘I’m ending the arrangement.’ She glared

 

‘Not like this you’re not. I say how it ends. You’re fucked in the head. Just because you can’t have what you want’

 

She grabbed his jaw, opened it and spat in his mouth.

 

‘Shut the fuck up!’

 

She shoved his underwear into his mouth to join what she had spat out. 

 

Shock prevented his struggle.

 

The bondage tape was at her finger tips and she wrapped it around his mouth.

 

‘Finally, I don’t have to hear you.’ 

 

She stood up in front of him.

 

‘Let’s count my bruises’

 

She took her red lipstick and made a tally on his forehead as she counted them. 

 

‘26!’ 

 

‘Now it’s you’re turn’

 

She raised his belt, she watched him flinch.

 

But she couldn’t go through with it.

 

Instead she took his phone and all the important messages he had been responding to on fet. She took a picture and made it his new profile. 

 

‘Bet that one will get you some attention’ she laughed.

 

And she dressed and walked away.

 

For good.

 

And the moral of the story? Crazy bitches aren’t born that way. They’re co-created.

 

*************

 

Bet my popularity will diminish now.

 

Bothered? Fuck no.

 

Passive? 

 

Got that wrong too.

 

In trouble?

 

Who cares! 

 

It’s just a story, don’t go thinking it’s all about you! 

It’s just catharsis and creativity of the troubled mind society likes to declare I have.

 

To quote myself...

’See that bruise on my arm?

You put it there,

Or did I?’

kree90

kree90

Posted

Love this. People tend to think submissives are weak creatures. We are sometimes damaged, but we are not weak. We do at some point when we are being mistreated. And we do walk away and take our power back. Power that was always ours but we forgot. Again, love this.

Deleted Member

Posted
  • Author
23 minutes ago, kree90 said:

Love this. People tend to think submissives are weak creatures. We are sometimes damaged, but we are not weak. We do at some point when we are being mistreated. And we do walk away and take our power back. Power that was always ours but we forgot. Again, love this.

Aww thank you. It was an diligent about the metaphor of realising the power is given and can be taken back. Trouble was I got all anxious a couple of hours later. Strength, tends to come in waves... 

 

Thanks for reading 😊

Deleted Member

Posted
  • Author
25 minutes ago, kree90 said:

Love this. People tend to think submissives are weak creatures. We are sometimes damaged, but we are not weak. We do at some point when we are being mistreated. And we do walk away and take our power back. Power that was always ours but we forgot. Again, love this.

And it was just also a metaphor of all the people and voices we let control us, even outside of D/s.

I wanted the visual tally of the bruises, the psychological scars of trauma. We hide them and we hold them. Like we put them there. Especially in an abusive . Which is another layer here. But I wanted to give them back. To stop hiding the Shame of them. 
 

im not a victim. I’m a survivor... most days anyway 

Deleted Member

Posted
  • Author
24 minutes ago, kree90 said:

I felt this on a very personal level.

I was really uncertain a lot posting it. As I usually just go sling with being the bad terrible disempowered version of a female. 
 

it was out of my comfort zone and I wasn’t sure how it would be received. But if it touched one person in a affirming way. Then it was worth it 😌

Deleted Member

Posted
  • Author
12 minutes ago, Algolagnic said:

Strange how you and I are so much alike but opposite is it not Miss Messedup?

We are? How so? 
It’s just a powerful metaphor... 

Deleted Member

Posted
  • Author
10 minutes ago, darkroom said:

It is really good and very powerful.

Aww thanks for taking the time to read it, despite probably being exhausted and having entertainment laid out waiting for you...

Glad it didn’t freak you out 😌

Deleted Member

Posted
  • Author

It didn’t it is nice to see genuine thoughts on here. And of course the confidence to write them. Laid out 🤣🤣 so true

kree90

kree90

Posted
32 minutes ago, Messedup79 said:

I was really uncertain a lot posting it. As I usually just go sling with being the bad terrible disempowered version of a female. 
 

it was out of my comfort zone and I wasn’t sure how it would be received. But if it touched one person in a affirming way. Then it was worth it 😌

Good job on stepping out of your comfort zone!

Deleted Member

Posted
  • Author
1 hour ago, Algolagnic said:

Messedup79 There are none so blind as those that do not see. Your writings and your poetry are your needs eating away at you and fantasies

But I’m a see-er and a knower 🤷🏻‍♀️

Mo****

Mo****

Posted
10 hours ago, Messedup79 said:

And it was just also a metaphor of all the people and voices we let control us, even outside of D/s.

I wanted the visual tally of the bruises, the psychological scars of trauma. We hide them and we hold them. Like we put them there. Especially in an abusive . Which is another layer here. But I wanted to give them back. To stop hiding the Shame of them. 
 

im not a victim. I’m a survivor... most days anyway 

YOU'RE SPECIAL is what you are!  

I would love to get to know you dear lady, and having the gift of your friendship would in deed be a pleasure.

Mo****

Mo****

Posted

The other thing that I would like to say is that if you have value as a sub (and YOU do) then there should never be shame, because what you wear and display is a result of what you BOTH want and desire, and when you have a relationship that values that unity, you have strength, you have power, and you have a safe and secure place to reside in life.

Deleted Member

Posted
  • Author
3 hours ago, MossyBoy said:

The other thing that I would like to say is that if you have value as a sub (and YOU do) then there should never be shame, because what you wear and display is a result of what you BOTH want and desire, and when you have a relationship that values that unity, you have strength, you have power, and you have a safe and secure place to reside in life.

Well I don’t have much experience in D/s but my limited experience, and life experiences have made me very cautious about it all. Hence the cautionary tale! 

Mo****

Mo****

Posted
1 minute ago, Messedup79 said:

Well I don’t have much experience in D/s but my limited experience, and life experiences have made me very cautious about it all. Hence the cautionary tale! 

Well you should be very cautious about it girl.  First up, this life does have some very real dangers to it.  Secondly there are so many Sharks/Rogues out there who are only out for their own fulfillment.  Then there are the Pretenders or Newbies, and finally the true dominants.

YOU unfortunately have to weed through to find out which is which.  Some will make it very easy for you with the demands, barking of orders, calling of names. 

Mo****

Mo****

Posted

I hope you enjoy the read in the message I sent.  There is a lot there to think about when selecting who is worthy of you.

Deleted Member

Posted
  • Author
11 minutes ago, MossyBoy said:

Well you should be very cautious about it girl.  First up, this life does have some very real dangers to it.  Secondly there are so many Sharks/Rogues out there who are only out for their own fulfillment.  Then there are the Pretenders or Newbies, and finally the true dominants.

YOU unfortunately have to weed through to find out which is which.  Some will make it very easy for you with the demands, barking of orders, calling of names. 

Sometimes I just want to fall into something that just feels right... 

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