I want to start this off by saying that I am not the most obedient Sub. Yes, I'm submissive naturally, but I fight for control a lot. And my Dom isn't the most... stick to the rules Dom there is, either. And because of that, we fight. Quite a bit actually. And we're nowhere near 24/7. But we don't really scene either. I want us to have that whole dynamic, but I'm so neurotic that I really need someone that's going to always step up and be in charge. And when he doesn't, it creates this definitive power struggle in our relationship. But when push comes to shove... Well, there's a reason He's a top and I'm a bottom.
*****
"I can't believe you're doing this again!"
That's me, yelling, fists balled up, indignant. And him sitting there, scrolling through his phone, tuning me out. Or trying to at least. I can almost hear his eyes inwardly rolling. He doesn't say anything, which just fuels my irritation. We have this fight a lot. And I know that he knows that ignoring me doesn't help anything, but then again, he knows that I know neither does yelling.
"Can you say anything, ever?" My tone is out of control. He knows it. I know it. And yet I can't stop myself. I take note that I am standing with my hands on my hips and I feel that little submissive part of me tugging on my sleeve telling me to cut it out. I subconsciously wave it away and try to readjust my position slightly without looking like I'm backing down. He ignores me completely. I throw my hands up and make a sound of annoyance.
"This is so fucking typical of you. God I'm so sick of this. You say that you want to talk-"
"Yeah, and you're not talking, you're yelling." He says flatly. He's looking at me now and his eyes are narrowed. Red flags are popping up like crazy in the back of my mind, but I'm on a role and don't care.
"OH MY GOD HE SPEAKS." I mockingly throw my hands in a prayer stance. "Hallelujah!"
He shakes his head and gets up off the couch. "I'm not dealing with this."
"Big fucking surprise." Oh shit. The word-vomit. I know I should shut up. Just give him a minute to cool off. Go smoke a cigarette. Something. But something prods me to open my mouth and say, "Fine, Go and throw a tantrum like a little bitch." Even though You're the one throwing the tantrum right now...
His long legs take two steps and he's standing in front of me. Leaning down to my level, very close. Fuck me.
"Care to try that again?" He almost hisses it. He sarcastically tips his ear in my direction.
I grit my teeth, purse my lips and turn my head away. I don't say anything.
"That's what I fucking thought." He pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pockets and smacks them sharply against his arm. I open my mouth to tell him not to smoke inside but think better of it. He glances at me, still glaring, and pointedly lifts the cigarette to his lips, cocking an eye brow at me. I purse my lips again and say nothing.
He lights his cigarette, takes a couple hits, and flicks the ashes into his can. He steps toward me, backing me onto the couch until I'm sitting and he's six inches from my face.
"Look at me. Now." It's an order, not a request, and I melt a little inside. I flick my eyes at him and then back down.
He grabs my jaw roughly. "I said look at me. Now."
For some ungodly reason, something possesses me to snatch my face out of his grip and kick both my feet into his stomach. I think he jumps back in time to barely feel it, but that's not really the point anymore. He gets a sick smirk, takes a hit of his cigarette and puts it out.
"Oh you stupid little bitch, you're fucked."
I wince at the name calling. He's pissed. Shit shit shit. My dom is a bit of a sadist when he gets pushed into it. He lunges at me.
I shrink back into the couch, pulling up my knees and shielding myself with my arms. Stupid. He's not going to hit me. Not like that. He grabs a handful of my hair and pulls me down. "Get. On. The. Floor." I don't move, wincing.
"Now, Bitch."
He pushes me and I weakly fall on my knees as the scrape against carpet. Bow my head. Slump my shoulders. Make my hands limp. Say nothing. My thoughts are clouding over, and I just want to be obedient. As usual five minutes too late.
I hear him undo his belt with a flourish, start at the crack it makes. I hear him unzip his pants. He pulls me up by my hair to the waiting erection in his hand. Pulls my head back to look at him. "I'm so sick of this fucking mouth on you." He slaps me in the face, not very hard, just enough to shock me a little. I lower my eyes and slump my shoulders.
He pushes his cock between my lips and I open them obediently. He pushes deeper until I gag and flush red. I try to pull off and he mutters, "I didn't say you could stop. You've got a long way to go before I'm done with you."
I try to whimper but he's cutting off my air supply, so I switch to breathing through my nose between thrusts. Tears are starting to stream down my face but I'm feeling shitty now and want him to know I'm sorry.
Suddenly he pulls away. In one movement he grabs my arm, sits back down on the couch, and pulls me into a face down ass up position on this lap. "Keep going."
I'm not arguing with that tone. I pull him back into my mouth and feel him reach under me to unsnap my jeans and tug them down. He snaps my thong and I flinch before he pulls that down too. I brace myself right as I feel his hand SMACK my bare ass and try to resist the urge to bite down on him. He smacks me two more times quickly and I automatically go to cover myself. He blocks me and keeps going, hitting the same spot which makes me start to sit up and pull away.
"Uh, no." God damnit. He's definitely got his sadist tone on. The sarcastic matter- of- fact one that tells me he's enjoying punishing me and inflicting pain. "Give me your hands."
