Wednesday, January 9, 2008

My wants, his wants, our wants

After dinner today, I went to my friends' place to play video games. I'd been there for perhaps half an hour when R's cell phone rang. He answered and spoke briefly with the person on the other line, glancing over at me and saying, "Yeah, she's right here. Here you go."

R handed me the phone, and I took it. "Hello?" I said into the receiver, puzzled.

I heard Master's voice on the other line. "Hey, hon. I hate to call you away, but could you come home?" His voice had a somber tone; perhaps it was something about our work - in any case it couldn't be good. I immediately agreed, hung up, and walked the short distance back to our building. Master's door was locked, as usual, so I knocked softly. After a few seconds he answered, wordlessly pulling me inside and kissing me hungrily.

It was a ruse, I realized as he removed my jacket, then my glasses, then my sweater and bra. With one swift motion, he snapped handcuffs to my wrists behind my back. And an excellent ruse, at that.

We made frantic love on the sofa in the living room, me struggling to keep quiet so no one passing by the door would hear. Then Master slung me over his shoulder and carried me into the bedroom, where I didn't have to worry so much about disturbing the random passerby. Eventually he removed the handcuffs from one of my wrists, so I was free to caress him - or scratch him. Before he climaxed, however, Master suddenly gripped my throat with his hand. It wasn't too hard, as I could still breath unhindered, but it was enough that I could feel the pressure against my larynx and my carotid artery. My lace collar was still on; the textured fabric dug into my skin, adding an element of friction to the sensation.

I hadn't asked him to grab my throat, nor had I ever expressed any interest in that kind of play. Afterwards, when Master asked me if I had liked it, I said, "Kind of." To be honest, I wasn't sure whether I liked it or not. It was an interesting sensation, to be sure, but not as intensely pleasurable as spanking or an ice cube. Nor was it incredibly unpleasant, such as wax play. It was... ambivalent.

"Well, I liked it," Master said.

"Then we'll do it," I replied. "As long as you don't grab too hard."

Sometimes I'm afraid that Master participates in BDSM with me only because I like it so much; that is, he's only interested because I'm interested. I don't want it to be like that. Though I'd be flattered if he'd be willing to do so much for me, I want Master to be interested in BDSM for its own sake, too. I'd like him to have his own kinks instead of just accommodating mine. I'm pretty sure he does; he bought some rope and has been researching shibari/rope bondage a lot, though I haven't asked him to. But even so, it feels to me that when we play, usually it's to indulge my kinks instead of his.

So even though having him pretend to choke me isn't much of a turn on, I'll gladly play along because it's what he wants. I want his turn-ons to be fulfilled as much as mine - beyond the whole "turning you on turns me on" thing.

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