Sunday, July 10, 2016

Hurt The One You Love by Mark


You always love the one you hurt

It had all ended disastrously. It seemed to him now that mutual recrimination had led to that special kind of hatred that only people who once loved each other are capable of.

It had started on Second Life, as such things often do. She had been his Mistress for several years, and his online service had gradually transmuted into regular meetings in real life. Her name was ‘Mistress Siren’ and they had fallen into that especially intense love that sometimes arises between Mistress and slave. But she lived in a different state, and that had been part of the problem. His work schedule meant he could only fly out to see her irregularly. As time passed, he had come to resent the way in which she seemed to take for granted that he would make this awkward journey whenever she wanted him. But it was not just that. He had wanted excitement. He had wanted kink. He had wanted the fantasy experience. And sometimes that had happened. But other times: yes there had been service, these had been slavery. But it was, somehow, the *wrong* sort. She had sensed his dissatisfaction, and had talked with him about it. But he had been unable or, maybe, unwilling, to express himself to her. Why couldn’t she just *know*, if she was supposed to be a mistress? Their last couple of meetings had been bitter with his acrimonious bickering and the painful silences that followed. Eventually, she had withdrawn her collar, and his final exchanges, as he left her home forever, had been filled with bile and resentment.

Some months later, he ventured back into Second Life, keeping well clear of his old visiting places there. But Second Life is like a ramshackle old mansion: there are always new spaces to explore. Eventually he found himself in a place he had never been before. The people were unfamiliar, but their shared interests in bdsm and femdom were not. As months passed he eased himself into the community, and finally met a new online mistress, a long-time resident there, Mistress Anna. Unlike Mistress Siren, Mistress Anna lived close by in real life, although she was still a relative stranger to his city, and from the very beginning he realised that, this time around, his interests were almost identical to those of his new mistress.

‘I want you on your knees’, she had told him. ‘I want to hear you screaming when I whip you. It pleases me. It excites me. I want to look into your eyes when I rake your skin – I want to see the trails of blood, and to watch your tears splash over them.’ He had felt an instant excitement as they talked. This, finally was the fantasy experience that he had lived with in his mind for so many years. ‘But understand: this is *my* femdom, not yours,’ she had said. ‘We will live out *my* femdom, as I want it, when I want it. That is what excites me more than all the pain and tears – that you bend your will to mine, whatever that may be. You either accept that, or we stop now.’ As Mistress Anna spoke, he found himself reflecting on the past, and he gradually realised that this new version of himself was more open to experience than before. Yes, he wanted the pain, the humiliation. That would never leave him. But now he understood he wanted something deeper: he wanted the very control that Mistress Anna had just described. As he told her all of this, he realised that for the first time in his D/s life he was opening his heart fully and, at the same time, really listening, really understanding, what it was that *she* wanted. And it was not just a matching of D/s needs; she made him laugh in a way that Mistress Siren never had. He was interested in her, in her life, in a way that he had never been before, and gradually he realised that their connection was far deeper than he could ever have hoped.

Over time, as they talked, a wary affection grew between them. Eventually they discussed meeting. But, she had told him, this would be a new experience for her. She had never before done anything like what she was now proposing – did he understand that? His old self would have been filled with pleased satisfaction, knowing that he was experienced in a way that she was not. But his new self was different: as weeks passed, he talked honestly and sincerely about what a meeting might mean for them both. And so, eventually, they agreed to spend time in real life together.

He walked down the sun-dappled avenue, his heart racing as he looked for the meeting place. As he strolled from out of the sun into the tree-shade then back out into the light, his thoughts also flickered from light to dark.

‘Christ I want this so much. Finally someone who sees deep inside me. And someone I understand too. All her wants, all her desires, everything that she wants from me. She is so perfect’, he mused. ‘Maybe if I had only spent the time to learn what Mistress Siren wanted, it would not have ended so badly. Perhaps,’ he thought sadly, ‘she was right - I never really paid attention to anything except what I wanted. Maybe it *was* all about me. At least I know never to make that mistake again.’

He came to with a start, as he realised he was standing outside the bar he and Mistress Anna had agreed on. As he walked inside, he barely took in the expensive fixtures, the well-dressed clientele and the waiting staff in their crisp uniforms. His eyes struggled to adjust to the gloom after the bright sunshine, and he unsteadily made his way to the back booth where they had agreed to meet. He could see her gaze fixed on him as he moved between the tables and chairs. As he drew close, his eyes finally adjusted to the darkened interior. His new Mistress smiled up at him. It was Mistress Siren.

‘You are mine forever’ she said. ‘At last, you finally know me as I have always known everything about you. Except for one thing,” she smiled, pointing at the drink before him, ‘I hope you like pina coladas’.

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