I had not seen him for nine months. We live in different states and visits are rare, but contact is constant. During one visit we role played rape, with a safe word. I did not fight very hard. The second visit - I fought harder and found myself with a torn belly ring, and rug burns on my face, but I still did not fight hard enough. It was so hot - unbelievably powerful and not something I had ever considered with anyone else. Yet we had e-mailed about it and we wanted to try. He was not certain he could do it - stepping outside of himself as someone who would never deliberately do anything to harm me, and pulling away from that to delve into the world of pain and pleasure. The first time he caught me by surprise - and the look in his eyes is one I will never forget. Though I did not fight as hard, I knew in an instant that he had found a way to mentally go to a place outside of himself and turn into someone who would rape me. Both times it was powerful, intense, arousing, amazing - leaving one's self and delving deep into something not experienced before.
Over time the e-mails began to take on a different tone as we began discussing other levels of kink we really wanted to explore. Each time the question remained to us individually is, how far could we go, would we go. I know I am not a pain slut, but there is a level of pleasure/pain that I crave to experience. Slowly we began discussing levels of submission, but as a switch. I could never be a full time slave and our relationship was such that it would never work full time. That would have had to have been the relationship from the beginning. But neither of us had thought in terms of that, or were searching for that, even when we met. Yet I craved a need for times when I could be at his complete mercy, his complete control, and fully submissive to his every command. I never knew this person existed inside of me until I met him.
Everything is a progression and each e-mail and each revelation and online exploration of fantasy, bonding, sexual turn-ons, and degrees of exploring pain and humiliation seemed to open doors to new possibilities. The level of trust in the power exchange - a gift - time and communication the key. I offered that next time there would be no safe word, the ultimate expression of trust, the trust that he would somehow know at what point to stop. His challenge - his own mind, as I do not fully know how deep he can go to take me to a level where I am fully submissive, and fully his slave. How much torture required was he thinking, and I do not know, even as I write this, but fear is what I still feel.
Our only limitation has always been geographical distance. He is moving to a different state so everything we talked about centered around when he moved and when I came out to visit. I usually visited him for a few days at a time in one state where he worked, but not the state where he lived. I planned a trip to visit friends in his home state, and only by a fluke were we able to have my last night together, when he returned home from work. It was only one night, there was not much notice, and we had not talked about exploring the master/slave relationship for that one night we would spend together. I was not prepared for what was going to happen, and I do not think he had much planned himself, but only he knows the answer to that question - what had he planned and what was spontaneous? I admit I was mixed about seeing him - longing for someone I had not seen but fear that he may spend the night forcing me into submission. There was no plan and no script as I could tell, but I had to at least know it was possible.
He met me at the hotel after having spent the week out of state working. He came straight from work and when I opened the door he was clearly exhausted. He changed out of his uniform into a t-shirt and shorts and laid down on the bed. He put his arms out and he just wanted to lay together and he needed sleep. At that moment, it felt so good to be in his arms again and to gently stroke his arm until he nodded off. I cannot tell you the exact sequence of events after he woke-up, just that we had dinner delivered, he showered, we watched a few videos on his laptop, talked, and laughed. I actually thought that maybe there would be no sex at all - just talking, laughter, and intimacy, even if I was only there for one night. The relationship is not only about sex and fucking, after all. But we did - the kissing, the touching, feeling his thick long cock inside of me. So long, so wonderful, but then he stopped. My mind becomes blurry but at some point, he made the switch in his head.
He had me flipped on my back and grabbed my throat and squeezed so hard I could not breathe at all. He was telling me in a deep, commanding voice that I would do what he told me to do, and I was trying to nod my head that I would. I have had my neck grabbed before, he has done this before, but never to a point I could not breathe at all. He pulled my hair hard and commanded me onto my hands and legs and I knew. He at least used lube before he plunged so deep into my ass I screamed. He forced my face down into the bed and put his hand over my mouth while raping my ass, trying to stifle the screams. He stopped for whatever reason he stopped - I only knew I was in agony but I could not fight him off, he had me pinned down too hard and no one could hear me scream. He left and cleaned up and then I went and cleaned up, my ass was bleeding and bleeding. I had promised him I would not let anyone fuck my ass - only him. It was too tight to handle his long thick cock. Even though it was excruciating and bleeding, I was still at such a sexual peak I did not want him to stop forcing me to do whatever he commanded.
When I came back he began forcing me again. Grabbing my hair, pinning my hands down, forcing his cock into my pussy, and growling at me not to fight. But the more he fucked my pussy, the more wet I became and the more I tried to fight him. He kept telling me not to fight him as it would only get worse. He was serious and I knew he was serious - this was not a game, yet my mind was in a deep place of fear and arousal and the height of sexual ecstasy. He reminded me of things he was going to force me to do to prove myself the next time I saw him. He forced me to agree then that I was still willing to do those things. He reminded me that he would force me to be gang banged. He reminded me that he was going to force me to sell my body - sex for cash, a real whore not an implied whore. I would submit to sex for cash with any man he chose, regardless of looks. He reminded me he might abandon me if there was any hint of danger to himself. These things were repeated to me over and over in a deep low voice that meant he was serious, reinforcing this was not a game. This was all a test of loyalty and devotion and the ultimate commitment to being his slave.
Despite this, I still would try and fight and when I fought I felt more and more aroused, but it meant his delicious cock was not in my pussy. He would bark at me to stop fighting, and he kept fucking, and it felt so good, but I would start fighting again. He was grabbing my hair and yanking my neck to the point I could hear it crack. He did something so unexpected that forced me to finally submit - he spit on my face! This was never discussed, and I never even considered he would do this to me. I was sickened but aroused. My mind slipping deeper and deeper to a level I had never been before. He spit on me like I was a whore, an ultimate act of humiliation. I had been fighting but that told me to stop.
