The road to your villa feels especially lonely tonight. Just what is this loneliness I'm feeling now? Is it just that I've disappointed both you and myself with my outburst? Is it simply the blues? Am I missing my wife? This is the first time since meeting you that I've felt so depressed. I've been too busy being more turned-on than ever before in my life.
For many long minutes you drive in silence- which is your way of driving most of the time; but given the argument we just had, it feels more like 'the silent treatment' to me.
Finally you break the silence, "Look, I don't know exactly what you want from this experience... and... I've been thinking about how all-of-a-sudden this must be for you- and on top of that: I'm thinking you may not even be a true-blood submissive."
"Amanda..." but you cut me off.
"I haven't been very fair to you... I've steamrollered you into becoming my slave much faster than most people could handle... You never even flat-out asked to be collared- at least that's not why you came to see me in the first place; and yet, here you are...Back there when you just asked me to 'pull over'- the way you felt then- maybe the way you're feeling right now- that's what those of us in the lifestyle call 'sub-drop.' I really should have been more on-the-look-out for it; I should have seen it coming... after all I've put you through today..."
"But I don't feel like a sub that has been dropped!" I protest after some consideration, "You still have me, nothing's changed between us- I hope."
My heart is beginning to hurt. Something important feels like it's just slipping away. Bring it back. Please! I need you to pull me out of this funk somehow.
"Sub-drop: all it means is that I've pushed you further than I should have before you were ready... Something I said or did triggered some really bad feelings... There's a big difference between pushing limits and crossing boundaries...I thought I had a better feel for it than I do- apparently."
"But I'm growing to like the way you humiliate me... trusting you to make embarrassing decisions for me... Putting me into mortifying situations... Allowing you to push me way out of my comfort zone... giving you control... risking my reputation- whatever that is..."
"But it's not really about humiliation or even degradation, Buttercup. When sub-drop happens, it means there was some mistake that needs to be fixed- some miscommunication. You've been so good at completely submitting to me right off the bat. Whatever I say- you do. You're such a natural that I never stopped to consider how new you are to all of this- and that's totally my fault."
"I've been trying to tell you that you haven't done anything to me that I haven't deep-down wanted."
"I'm not giving you everything you want, and I never will. I hope you know by now that I'm giving you only what I want to give. Our relationship is not a two-way street. In fact if I sense that you want something I'm more likely to withhold it from you- to use it- to tease you with it... Because that's simply what gets me off... Now here's the catch- and you'd better listen well because I'm not going to tolerate conversations like this one we're having right now- in which we're both speaking as equals- maybe never again... This is what I'm picking up from you: you're seeking intimacy from me..."
How could you have hit it so plainly on the head? my mouth is open. I'm speechless. You have me.
You proceed, "Maybe you go along with my regiment of humiliations and punishments just because you imagine that there will be some end to this obstacle course. All you have to do is get through it... and then... you and me will live happily ever after like in the pretty-princess fairy-tales...Look here's what you do have going for you, Buttercup, I'll say it plainly: you're cute, I like having you around me, and I really love punishing you. I don't care to discipline just anybody, you are my type, you've got 'it'- whatever 'it' is. For me there has to be that spark, like the special spark I feel with you... But I'll tell you right now that intimacy between us will be deep, but it's not going to be the cutesy, girl-friend, vanilla-flavored intimacy you're used to. All the respect and adoration that come with love wont be mutual- it will be very one-sided- from you to me...That lopsidedness is what makes this whole clock tick."
You absently draw two circles in the air between us with your index finger, "My part of the bargain is to keep you so horny and frustrated you can't even think straight...Your job is to devote your entire existence to me- and question nothing I tell you to do. You will learn to understand that all the pain I make you feel is really pleasure because it comes from me. I'm the one dreaming it up; I'm the one delivering it to you- it's a precious gift for you."
My loins are beginning to stir again. Your spell is beginning to work on me again, "Tell me more, my Queen," I beg.
"Alright, I'll let you in on a little secret about my method, Buttercup, you see it's kind of like a revolving triangle with you in the center. The three points of the triangle are: humiliation, frustration, and pain..." You hold up your index, then middle, then ring fingers.
"I keep it revolving, hitting you with one after another. Dress you up like a girl, fuck your virgin ass sore with my strap-on, put you in a frustrating chastity cage, show off the key to you whenever I can, allow my girlfriend's to punish your ass in different ways, edge you in the parking lot, allow you to cum inside me at the appointed time, inform you that you wont be cumming again until I'm good and ready to grant you permission- and that's not going to be for a very long time- by the way. I've already decided. The point is: the only time this little merry-go-round of mine ever stops is if I decide to change the direction of the spin. And that's what you'll learn to live for."
I release an unexpected sigh of... relief? disappointment? I can hardly tell.
"It's a treat for you to give in to me, Buttercup, If you can learn to understand the intimacy that comes from sincere devotion to me then that intimacy will be your's. It is a powerful love- but not a love that you're used to yet. I suspect you're used to the kind of love shared between equals. I've always found that love: lacking. But unfortunately, I can't make you feel the same way I do about it. You have to want it for yourself. It's off-the-beaten-path; but I think in time you'll find that it's more-than-worth-it."
My heart is feeling both tight and swollen. I feel the hot pressure of tears behind my eyes. But I've seen what tears can do to masquera and I don't want you to see me with black streaks running down my cheeks. Holding back my tears feels so much like holding back my cum. In a new rush of emotion, I remember how I felt when you ordered me to hold back my cum when I was inside you...
"Buttercup... listen... you see through people... you have that gift- I can tell. You see through the bullshit. I can't bullshit you. I am incapable of bullshit- with you. that's how you challenge me. You authenticate me. You validate my art. You keep my talent from being wasted on somebody- not like you."
You already have me, but your words melt down the solid material that's left and I just break down completely... all my walls crumble at once. I'm openly weeping in front of you- broken and tired of putting up resistance. I only wish you'd just pick up the emotional ball of putty I've become- and mold me into something sturdier.
"My Queen, I don't know what to do," I sob, "I hear you. I want the kind of intimacy you've just described to me. I want it bad! I want to serve you unquestioningly. My lust and my habits make me weak. I do want you to train them out of me. I want your perfect will to supersede my shallow notions of love. In one day, you've become my Queen; I want you to be my Goddess."
"Oh... Buttercup... sweet Buttercup, with your useless penis pathetically cradled, bleeding, and shriveled in the pillow of your pretty pink diaper... You think I depend on you for anything? That's just not the case... I've already given you far too much by confiding in you anything about my methods... It will work out better for you if you learn to see yourself within my grand scheme of things, You're not real. You're not a real person. You are a figment of my imagination; you don't exist outside my imagination. You're my pet... my lap dog... you're only my imaginary friend."
Why does my cock like it so much when you belittle me? I can feel it twitching up against the diaper's softness.
