I challenge Me to a Dual

This isn't something I can talk about lightly. It's not something I've really spoken about at all, save directly to my possession. As anyone who has been following along would recognize, I have a very cruel streak in me. This has been coming out more and more lately. Psychologists would tell you my dominating nature is about power. While that is true--as a Master, power is never something I don't crave--I also crave the control even of pain. The cruel streak in me finds absolute, inexplicable euphoria in making her scream and cry, in hearing her beg for me to stop, in seeing the tears streaking her face, making it even more beautiful than it already is, if at all possible. I suppose in the end it's more about fulfilling that side of me that I've always kept quashed.

I suppose, with a personality like mine, I could have been some kind of sociopath, had things gone differently. This isn't an attempt to scare, just an honest evaluation of my own personality. Since a very young age I've had a fascination with the pain of other things and people. I've always been of two minds on the matter: One wishes to help and heal that pain, and the other finds a delicious satisfaction in witnessing something so personally devastating. Ever since I was a child and I was taught that such a thing was 'wrong' I learned to bury that second part of myself deep, deep down, along with the authoritative, controlling, aggressive part of myself. All of those things were considered 'bad' and were things I was told would make me a disappointment and make my family ashamed, so I did what I could to avoid being such to my family, and locked that part of me away deep down inside.

Now, something I did not expect occured because of this seperation...it became it's own Me. I realize how disturbing this sounds, and one could probably identify my as crazy for this, but I am perfectly, calmly, cogently aware of it all, which suggests I'm not as mentally unstable as one might think. Essentially, that part of my personality inherited its own thought patterns and behavioral subsets when it was buried to ensure it never snuck back up on me, and the rest developed along it's own path, unobstructed, to make the 'mister nice' the rest of the world sees me as. Probably about 98% of people who know me would be shocked to find out my true nature, but I hid it so well that for a while I even forgot about it myself...but there was always a part of me that was unsatisfied. I felt...lacking.

No relationship I was in could draw me out of this. No one could make me feel complete and whole until things began to develop with my possession. The other, more passive me that had been in the forefront all this time usually sought out someone else who didn't rely on me to take the forefront. It sought out somewhat more 'in-control' people so that I didn't have those temptations to control rise up within me, and I was always unhappy and dissatisfied. However, when I met and began to speak in earnest with my pet, I began to recognize immediately the passive nature of her personality. The submissive, giving way about her that suggested that she was a lifestyle slave who not only in the bedroom submitted to my will, but in every way throughout almost all of her day. For the first time in all of my life I felt that hidden part of myself rumble, as if awakening from a deep slumber only to find that after such a hibernation it hungered deeply. It wasn't until the past year that ht finally had a chance to come into the forefront, especially the past few months.

This hidden Me, This darker and more evil side...if it had claimed control when I was younger and didn't understand what it was much less how to give it a proper outlet, I might have ended up comitting terrible crimes and getting locked up without remorse while fully understanding what I'd done. One time I spoke to my mother about the possibliity of my uncle teaching me to hunt. I thought this might be an effective outlet. She laughed at me, and then when she grew serious about it told me that she knew I wouldn't be able to kill an innocent animal. The deeper ferocity within me, reacted with vehemence, I was surprised to find, and I was afraid in that moment as I learned I was far more ruthless than anyone took me for. Now, that ruthless and cruel Me was stepping out of the shadows, stretching his wings for the first time. As a mature adult that could recognize what it was and how to give it a proper outlet, however, there was no risk of something too negative happening.

Now we come to the slightly more interesting part of the tale. Each me is, in effect, its own personality. Each part is aware of and can communicate with the other, and each part knows what the other does. Each part has its own behaviors, and can refer to the other in conversation with my pet. I would switch who was in control depending on the situation, as though I was possessing of Multiple Personality Disorder. For us it seemed somewhat natural, but from the outside it would doubless appear absolutely insane. However, the problem is that they couldn't each operate independently and make us (both aus as a single person with two sides to me, and us as a couple) happy. They--we--I needed to be one whole person. Nevermind that both sides were independently being fulfilled, I was still not a whole person. The trick has been finding a way to make us one personality once more, while maintaining a balance of the good parts of both and keeing a healthy person.

Now, as I'm combining both sides of me to make something new; something dangerously wonderful--something that fulfills us both beyond imagine--I'm finding out something new about myself every day. Finding out how to make the ideal me is very interesting to say the least, but I find that its something that should have happened long ago...she was just the trigger to draw out the darker Me, much less allow them both to coexist as a single being without drawbacks.

I find that the evolution of myself as a compassionately cruel Master is coming to fruition, and as someone who has spent his whole life segragating who he was for the sake of those around him and the society's preference, life has never been sweeter than when I push my most valued, most beloved, most prized possession to the brink of tears and beyond when she's doing her best to hold it back.

In those moments I realize I am all-powerful, that I am in control, and I take the most delicious and dark pleasure in her pain that would make those of the vanilla lifestyle absolutely cringe in abject horror, and yet to me is one of the sweetest memories in recent life.

In those moments she intimately understands what no one else could ever see, much less understand

In those moments, I am more whole than I've ever been...and I have her to thank for it.

In the End, This is How it Began

i wish i could say that my sexual revolution occurred during adolescence, that i had always known that this is who i am. But it took over thirty years for the scales to be lifted from my eyes and even then, it was done so subtly, so gently, so patiently by M that i'm still struck by the transformation that has overcome me.

When M and i first met, i had been in a fourteen year marriage to a fella that i had absolutely no sexual attraction to. Thinking back, i can see why i was initially attracted to him -- publicly, he exudes a confidence and an arrogance that i've come to realize is hallmark in the men that i find attractive. In his case, it was a facade. With these new eyes, i look back and realize that in intimate settings, he wanted to be submissive. And he wanted me to be the one to dominate him. He even went so far as to suggest he buy me a crop. *shudder* It was no wonder that i hated sex so much it would make me cry. He told me there was something wrong with me; that i was simply 'impossible to arouse' and i believed him. i was innocent enough then that i didn't even realize the D/s elements present, nor the part i wished to play in them.

But M did. The more we talked, the more He knew. At first, He let me prattle on as we discussed fantasies -- ones that i'd never breathed to anyone before. *laughs* God, how silly He must have thought me. How utterly and sickly innocent. But no. He loves that innocence that even now, now that the veil has been lifted, is never completely gone. Innocence that still makes me blush when i learn a new word that i've never heard before. Innocence that He can defile again and again.

Nowadays, i see things in a new light. i can look back on my childhood, all the way back to the time that i was eleven, and i remember the young adolescent me having fantasies of sexual aggression against her. i can remember the bedrooms that i inhabited. i can remember the exact images that were going through my mind as i toyed with myself. i didn't even know then that what i did was masturbation. i remember books that i read - books such as "Wizard's First Rule" and "The Deeds of Paksenarrion" in which the main characters were captured and tortured and i cheered on the perpetrators, not even understanding why.

It never occurred to me that all of this could lead to an actual type of relationship, that other people sought this out. It never occurred to me that the very reason i thought i was attracted to my ex was an unconscious desire to have that, to be dominated. And i wonder, how could i not have seen? How could i have wasted all those years?

i suppose i was just waiting for M...

The Tracks of My Tears

"You remember what I promised you, don't you?"

i stood there as if i didn't, but really, i did. It was perhaps ironic that He was promising me that i could cry for Him, endure so much pain that it would literally bring me to tears, but that was how it had happened. It really wasn't my fault, though. It's been seven days since He's allowed me an orgasm.

Seven... 7... One week...

No matter how you look at it, it still seems to me as if it's been a year or longer. And in those seven days, i would have made a deal with the devil, if only to feel a bit of release. Perhaps i had. For my Master's part, He likes the changes that have come over me in the past week. His slave has been demure, docile, and very eager to please. Absent have been the beligerent temper tantrums that tend to be sprinkled throughout our weeks. Instead, i've been desperate to please Him to the point that i begged Him to let me cry for Him.

And He graciously agreed.

There were so many errands on our morning that i'd almost thought He'd forgotten, or that there wouldn't be time for it. But He made time. It took only a few moments for Him to bind me, ankle, wrist and neck and after a quick negotiation to alleviate any undue pressure on my recently injured knee, it was decided that i would lay on the bed for this. It turned out best, in the end.

He began with the crop to "warm up" my flesh. In the beginning, it had always been the crop, but He had eventually decided that He liked the intimate contact of His hand against my flesh, so i was slightly surprised that He had decided to use it instead. The blows came harder than usual as if He had some frustration that He was working out on my body. Softly, He would drag the leather across my skin, teasing me, only to pause and swat.

"Disassociate yourself, pet. I want to really break you. I want to know, when you finally cry, that you did everything you could to prevent it."

It was a trick i had learned from Him, during those times of excess stress in my life. Complete relaxation. Maybe other submissives do it too, i don't know. i just know that i take a good deal more of a beating when i do it. That's what He was counting on. What He didn't realize was that the soft drag of the leather against my skin made it hard to relax completely, to refuse to anticipate the blow by flinching ahead of time and making it that much more painful for me. Still, i did as i was told.

The crop traced my cunt lips - nasty cruelness after so many days without being allowed release. It moved up my ass to swat at the padded flesh there. He made a complete round of my body; thighs, ass, back, shoulders, until every inch was tinged in pink from the bite of the crop.

Satisfied that i had been 'warmed up', He moved to lay on the bed beside me. His hand caressed the curve of my buttocks and for a moment, i forgot myself and leaned in to His touch. His hand lifted and came down on one cheek hard.

"That's it, pet. Fight it. I don't want you to scream unless you just can't help yourself."

i lay still, feeling His hand move from one buttock to the next and back again, each time coming down in a loud slap that was harder than i could ever recall feeling. My father was a fan of corporal punishment. Everything from disobedience to poor grades (including a mediocre 'C') was met with a belt across my backside - but even thinking back, i can't remember ever having been struck as harshly as He was doing today.

3... 4... 5... 6... i wasn't counting, but i think i made it at least to six before i finally cried out. It was a wracking cry followed by quick intakes of breath.

"Are those tears I hear on the edge of your voice?"

"No, Master. i can take more."

"Good."

He struck me again and again, switching from one ass cheek to the next, intentionally striking on top of where he had hit before, each pass stronger than the last. Finally, i broke down, crying out as the tears welled up in my eyes. i could tell that He was pleased with the sound, but still, He did not relent. He crooned at me softly, but His hand continued it's rhythmic spanking until my whole body shook with the force of my tears. i thought He would continue forever, make me beg for Him to stop, but His pleasure took over then and without warning, He turned me over and raised my legs up, giving Him access to use me. The bed burned against an ass that felt like it was on fire and each thrust brought with it a new round of whimpering cries. His eyes remained on my face, my tears, the entire time, and i could see in His expression that He was loving every minute of it.

When He was finished, He lay down beside me once again, His hands wandering across my naked flesh. His cruelty was not sated, though, as His fingers moved down between my thighs, rubbing and teasing me. "Please, don't," i whimpered, but He only laughed. He always laughs when i'm being tortured. i love it.

"What if i cum?" i asked. It had been 7 days, after all and after the way that He had just used me, i was already wanting it.

"you wont," He replied.

"Yes, but what if i do?"

"you won't," He repeated as if that was the end of it.

It took all of the concentration that i had to endure His teasing touch. Several times, i came close, but i managed to remain in blissful torture. He finally finished teasing me after what had seemed like an hour but must have been closer to twenty minutes. In the end, i rolled over, turning away from Him. His hand went to my ass and i could tell, though my back was turned to Him, that He liked what He saw. Ruptured capillaries had freckled my skin, a testimony to His handiwork. Pleased He must have been, for He turned me back to face Him.

It was time for round two.