TopezSky Words

The hardest part of being a woman who submits by choice is the need for emotional safety.

 

But what do you do when the dom who says he loved you ignores the rules agreed to, breaks trust, and enacts emotional violence that trigger the sexual trauma you have spent DECADES healing from.

 

Closed.

Like a mummy wrapped in dirty cloths that smell like his semen in my mouth.

 

Like cement forced down my throat and made to swallow.

 

Like love soured into apathy that the only recourse is God.

 

Closed.

 

Until God says otherwise, I shall remain closed.

 

 

 

 

I want to be touch.

Finger fucked.

Bent over.

On all fours.

 

Your thick manhood.

Pounding me into submission.

 

Touch me... Soft..

Like a newborn.

Make me weep with the tenderness of your love.

 

You get so mean sometimes.

 

I try to please you.

But I'm not submissive enough.

Bad submissive.

Bad.

 

I'm independent.

A boss.

A woman of power, genius, and appetites.

 

I don't need you.

I want you.

 

But you want me to need.

You want to be my only need.

You want to be the air I need to breathe.

 

I can't.

 

I've survived too much life to make myself that helpless.

Ever again.

 

I can't give you what you need.

 

So I walk away.

 

Alone.

I sometimes wonder if I can be in a healthy relationship and have my appetites sated. 

 

I don't know. 

 

I will touch myself and be single.

Work on myself and stay busy.

And perhaps all the busy will override the overwhelming ache of living without you.

 

It's time to move on.

 

I lay in bed.
Naked.
A sheet draped over my satiated body.

Our noses kiss.
Like eskimos.
We laugh in hushed tones.

“What are you thinking,” I softly whisper.

My Him trails his finger tips up my arm,
caresses my neck, and kisses my collar bone.

He is quiet.

I can see in his eyes he wants to tell me something.

Something true.
Something valid.

His fingers trace my cheek and chin.

He pins me in place with his eyes.
Raw. Present. Vulnerable.
His gaze, intense.
I hold my breath.

“I am thinking,” he leans up on one elbow just enough so I am looking up at him, “that I am your man.”

His touch changes.
From lights to achingly tender.
“Who is taking care of his woman...”

My body responds.

I am transfixed.
I feel like he is wrapping a warm velvet blanket around my heart.

“…and protecting her.”

I freeze.
No breath.
No sound.

He knows.

No voice.
No choice.
No father.
Since 6.

And he still wants me.

Something in my chest starts to flutter and then lands, like a butterfly, on my heart.

I look away.
Slow hot tears.
Fall. Quiet and thick.

“Babe are you ok?”

I nodded yes.
But I can’t talk.
I can’t look at him.

He gently turns my face to his.

I can’t meet his eyes.
So he kisses them.
He lays with me in silence.

And I cry.
Saying nothing.
Saying everything.

In silence.
On the pillow.

He covers my body with his.
I wrap every part of me around him.
He puts me on top of him.
The sheet spilling down around my hips.

“I belong to you,” he says to me as I dig my finger nails into his chest and gasp for air.

I feel him.
On the inside.
And I am reduced to guttural utterances.
Grunts and signs.
Pants.
Throaty moans.

Primal.

He moves my body to match his pace.
He sits up, my legs and the sheet wrap around his waist.

He whispers in my ear with an intensity that is almost savage.

“Take what you want from me baby.
Take what you need.”
He presses into me.
I gasps.
He commands,”take it.”

And I do.

I push.
Pull.
Pant.
Punch.

I take from him with the full force of rage.

The rage of not having a choice.
A voice.
Of always being told.
But never asked.

“I will never leave you.
Just as I am yours, you are mine.”

I climax.
I collasp.
In his arms.
On the pillow.

Then I weep.
I cry.
I wail.

He rocks me.

He whispers tender words to me.
He lays my head on his chest.

“It’s time for you to sleep now, babe.
I’m right here. I love you.
I am not going anywhere.”

Something settles in my spirit.
I think its the butterfly…

As I drift off to sleep lulled by the steady beat of his heart, I feel something different.
Something new. Something I didn’t know I didn’t have.

Until now.

For the first time.
Ever.
Even if it’s only for now…

…I…
…feel…

…safe.

Yes. I’m safe.
For now.
And that’s enough.
It’s more than enough. 

As a new sub, I was swept away by my first relationship with a Gentleman/Daddy dom.

We dated for four months. It was magical. Our relationship ended because I have special needs (PTSD) and the dom I was in a relationship with needed a sub who could take care of his abandonment needs. One of the things that happen when I am triggered is my high-functioning skills disappear. I cannot talk. For him, he took that to mean I was punishing/resisting/disobeying him. I wasn't. I needed to lower the threat in order for me to feel safe enough to talk. That takes time. He would get upset, storm out of the room, accusing me of being abusive toward him, or leave because he felt like I was being cold. I wasn't but I couldn't help him understand my special needs required time to process and to get back to balance.

That being said, I learned a lot from this experience and I am much more clear on what I need from a gentleman/daddy dom going forward:

 

1. Honor my boundaries. My previous dom was moody, reactionary, and impulsive. He would agree to something and then do something else. He would persist until I gave him his way. The irony was I would have given him everything if he would have been patient with my process.

 

2. Accountable. I have special needs. That means I require care that others may not, specifically around what is said, tone, and word choice. Calling me abusive cut me to my core. I come from an extremely abusive background. For him to use that word made my heart weep and bleed at the same time. He became upset because I didn't kiss him good morning and left to take my dog to daycare as he suggested. I said I was being "cold." I was processing the night before, not withholding. I can see how he could see my lack of dotting attention would read to him as cold. I was in a reaction to giving him annal sex (more or that later.) When I called he refused to pick me up. He accused me of abandoning him and left before I came home. The more I explained myself and requested he hear me out via talking instead of texting, the more he lashed out. He couldn't be accountable for the things he communicated in his anger. Going forward I will only be in a relationship with a dom who is accountable for his actions.

 

3. Respects my power. I am a sub by choice. I am a highly successful entrepreneur and run things in my day-to-day life. I choose to submit to my dom. My previous dom said he respected my power but really wanted a sub who was more agreeable, dotting, and passive. That's not me. Going forward I will look out for red flags for doms who say they respect a woman with power, but truly wants something else.

 

4. Overgiving. When I love someone, I want to make them happy. I have weak boundaries when I love. I didn't want to do annal sex. But my dom did. I told him no multiple times. He persisted. I thought as his sub I should try. I did and it was ok. But then I became fearful that I had overgiven. I have to figure out how to tell my dom no and stick with it. But as a sub, aren't I supposed to obey? I haven't quite figured this part out yet. :-)

 

5. Slow down. My dom was very persistent, very fast, and very overwhelming. At first, I tried to pace but after a while, I surrendered to his neck-breaking pace. It was exhilarating. Looking back, I think if I could have resisted him more and gone slower, perhaps he could have gained a better understanding of me and my needs in a more comprehensive way. 

 

I am still processing it all. I did the best I could and I loved him fully. I am doing my best to not turn myself into the villain. He had a practice of listing out all he has done for me. It made me feel obligated. He would say all the things he did that I asked him to do, but he only did them half-ass. He never owned them or did them for his own growth and development. He just paraded his actions in front of me when he wanted to prove how good he was to me and how I should feel grateful. And I was. But he didn't need to do that. I expressed my gratitude continually and in public ways. But it was never enough. None of my expressions of love fulfilled him. Not in a substantive way. It was very disheartening that my expressions fell short of his expectations.

He had a double standard. He wanted me to know that I should kiss him in the morning, but he didn't tell me or do it himself. We were in Vagas for my birthday and I was sharing something emotionally intimate. Instead of affirming me, he critiqued me. My feelings were hurt and I spoke up for myself. He became upset and said I always found fault with how he says things. Then he left the room in an upset and watched TV in the living room. When I tried to talk to him about it, he says he was giving me space, but he never address the way he left. It was the first night in three years I was without my service dog, and he knew this.

 

And yet he still left me alone.

 

I could feel my anxiety rising and went downstairs. I found a dance floor and had a GREAT time! When I came back up to the suite, he was sleeping on the couch. I put on my music to soothe myself and he surprised me by coming to bed. He wanted to make love and I was still upset. But I felt like he needed it so I agreed. He asked me where I went. I told him about dancing and how much fun I had. He became upset, turned his back to me, and went to sleep. When I awoke in the morning he was back on the coach. I felt very lonely. He didn't kiss me in the morning nor was he warm. But he expected me to be toward him. My anxiety skyrocketed and I packed my things, picked up my service animal from boarding, and drove home to LA. I folded his clothes so he would know I wasn't angry. He flew back and blamed me for missing his son's birthday via text.

 

I know he is a good man. And he was good to me. Except when he was triggered. I understand triggers. But his way of fighting hurts me and takes days to recover from. I am clear that ANY relationship I am in will be triggering. So I am thinking through what do I need to put in place to be with a dom who is right for me so I can give my whole heart.

 

Perhaps I am wrong and as a sub, and am supposed to anticipate my doms needs. But I suck at reading between the lines and guessing. But I honored all of his requests so I am unclear how I could anticipate his expectation of morning kisses or to not go dancing to feel better without him. 

 

With all of that being said, I am thankful for my first Dom relationship. I learned a lot. And I am grateful.

 

Any and all wisdom is welcome, but please, be kind.

 

Thanks.

 

TopezSky

I don't know what I did wrong.

I'm new to the life so maybe I missed something.

I gave him everything he requested.

I'm not experienced with sex toys.

I've never had an electric vibrator put inside of me...

 

He put a collar on me first.

I let him restrain me; first my left wrist then right.

I watched as he tied down my left ankle then my right one.

 

Then he blindfold me.

 

I trusted him.

I felt safe.

We honor the consideration period.

 

He courted me.

Wooed me.

He made me feel like his baby girl.

 

I wanted to please him.

I wanted him.

I let him blindfold me.

 

He knew I don't like surprises.

I'm tied down to the bed.

Aroused.

Wet.

Hungry for my first sub/dom sexual dynamic to be everything I dreamed.

BAM!

Pain.

Shock.

Surprise.

 

The vibrator in my vagina goes on at a thousand watts. I feel like I'm frying on the inside. 

I can't see.

I can’t move.

He fumbles with the remote control.

I scream, “Get it out of me!!!” I'm thrashing around in the bed like one of the women you see in the movies who’s been abducted by a serial killer trying to escape.

He apologies and says it's only a vibrator. He quickly removes the the vibrator, restraints, the blindfold.

 

We make eye contact.

He looks stunned. 

I see a stranger.

 

I watch him see the trust I have for him slam shut like 12 armored doors slamming shut one after another. 

 

Just like my heart.

 

I roll into the fetal position to try to get my body to stop shaking. I have PTSD. I'm trying to get my body to calm down.

 

My dom walks out of the  bedroom, let's my service dog our of his travel bag to comfort me, then leaves.

 

I'm in the dark.

Shaking.

He left me.

Alone.

 

Alone to deal with this.

 

He comes back later and slowly packs his things. I have to fight my way out of the haze of trauma to find out whats going on.

 

“Why are you leaving?”

“I thought you would want to be alone. So I will go home. You can spend the night in the suite and I will call you tomorrow.”

 

Now I'm stunned.

I thought my dom was supposed to take care of me. Make me feel safe.

But he keeps packing.

I put my feelings in the basement of my heart and start tending to him. 

“I'm not angry with you. It was a mistake. I know you would never do something malicious to hurt me. I don't want you to go. Please stay.”

He won't look at me.

He seems angry at me.

I don't know why.

 

As the weekend continues, he becomes more and more critical of me. And he starts to do and say things that hurt my feelings.

That night, I have an anxiety attack in bed where my body shakes.

 

His ex-wife calls.

He accidentally takes the call and proceeds to have a conversation with her while I'm shaking.

 

The next morning we are talking and he calls me a pain in the ass.

 

He’s never talked to me like that before.

 

I drive back to my home and he texts. We texted back and forth and I think we are fine. But something I said must have offended him.

 

I called him and we talked. He talked and I listened. I asked him was he seeking reassurance.

He said no.

I asked was I listening or did he want me to talk?

He said talked.  

 

So I addressed his concerns but he seemed insulted. He then talked about my career and how so many people loved and needed me.

 

He then said that he no longer thinks he's the right man for me because of my career. 

I'm stunned.

The week before he told me God told him we would marry.

 

We got off the phone and he started to text me how I didn't care about his feelings. 

How I'm always telling him what to do.

I texted him that I honor his choice and would give him time to process if he was the right man for me. I suggested we take a week to process all that had transpired this week.

He texted back I was grounding him.

The more I engaged the more ugly and petty his responses became.

 

He told me to not bother responding.

So I didn't.

 

I don't know what I did wrong that would make him treat me so. 

 

I'm simply don't know...

 

 

 

I can feel my breast swelling at the mere thought of your hot mouth engulfing my taunt nipple...

 

I touch myself wishing you were real, watching me as my hand drifts slowly, steadily from my breast...

...across my twitching belly...

...feather-light caresses on my thigh..

... until my figures reach the place where your mouth should be.

I touch myself, softly, pretending I'm you...

 

I imagine you guiding me, beguiling me, commanding me to wet my fingers with my mouth and to enter the tender pink folds of china-delicate flesh hungry to be fucked.

 

I hear you moan as I do as you say.

 

You tell me to taste me.

And I do it.

 

You command me to squeeze my breast while I finger fuck myself harder and faster...

 

And right when I'm about to climate...

...you command me to stop.

Don't cum.

 

My body quivers.

My pussy aches.

But I want to please you Daddy.

I want to be a good girl for you.

So I stop.

 

I slow down my breathing.

I start counting backward from 100.

I obey.

 

I fold my trembling desire away

and tuck it in a pocket in my heart.

 

I await the day

when you give

me permission to cum...

 

...for you.

 

Until then... I count backwards...

He sent me two dozen long-stemmed, freshly cut lush deep red roses the day after we met.

He speaks to me in metaphor and story

He writes me lovely love notes.

Precious.

Pure.

 

He is a gentleman.

Daddy.

Dom.

 

His pace overwhelms me.

I am afraid.

I am not certain I can give him what he needs.

 

I need time to process.

To digest.

To comprehend. 

 

I am new to this world.

I feel like a newborn baby giraffe trying to stand on wobbly shaking, newborn legs.

I want so much from life.

I feel like I have spent my life in recovery or taking care of others or defying impossible--and winning.

I simply want to feel alive.

I want to KNOW true passion and grace.

I want to be kissed in Paris and made love to in Rome. 

I want to feel safe but free at the same time.

He is older.

Kind.

Patient.

Sexy and handsome.

But he wants so much so fast.

I need time to process.

To learn this life.

To learn me.

 

I walked away from him.

I walked toward me.

 

I have to set my own boundaries.

I have to know when I'm not ready.

I have to stand for myself instead of giving into his charming insistence to surrender to him.

 

I worry that I'm not a sub.

I'm not passive.

I am edgy and brilliant.

I'm independent and a boss.

But I'm lonely.

Soul lonely.

The kind of lonely where you Soul cries tears your eyes can’t shed.

Talking to him...

... reading his words... for a moment--

took away the lonely.

 

But he needs something I am not.

He texts me. Although I walked away from him.

He sends me beautiful word pictures that make my heart smile.

 

He sent me two dozen long-stemmed freshly cut lush deep red roses.
I look at the daily.

 

But I don't touch. 

Touching them would be touching Him.

And I cannot be what he needs.

 

He is very kind. 

 

I wish him love.

He is going to make the right sub very very happy.

I want that for him.

He deserves to have what he wants.

I'm just grateful to have known his favor.

Briefly.

 

My lips quiver and ache.

Hungry. For you. 

Give me what I need.

Your mouth drinking in my wetness as a twist and turn, unable to move because you have tied me to the bed.

I can smell you.
Hear you breathe.
I can't see you, but rather sense you.
Protecting me as you ready my body to receive you.

I want to feel you in me.
All 8 thick inches of your beautiful manhood.
Hard. Smooth. Strong. 
You hold me down and fuck me until I beg you to stop. But you don't stop.

You pull out and tease me.

Slower.

Longer strokes that annihilate language. Reducing my words to guttural jibberish. 

You want to brand me.

Mark me.

Own me.

Make me yours so I only crave you.

You bathe me in rose water as you whisper gentle, encouraging tenders that make me feel like your precious baby girl.

You pat me dry as your hand uses the towel to massage my clit..

You finger fuck me as I sit on the toilet while pinning my hands above my head. My breast bounce and jiggle to  the rhythm of your merciless demanding fingers.

You release my hands, pick me up by my ass and pin me against the wall.
You hold me in place by my neck, my legs wrapped around your waist, my arms wrapped around your big strong shoulders, as your ragged breath whispers dirty words in my ear.
Bitch.
Cunt.
Slut.

Each words matched by a deep thrust of your hips and the tightening of you hand around my neck.

You pick up the pace.
I hold my breath.
You squeeze my neck tighter.
I claw at your shoulders.
You savagely command, in between pants,
“Cum for me you little bitch. Cum for me hard.”

I release my breath just as you release my neck.

I feel myself falling.
Tumbling through space and time.
I see oceans.
I touch the ring around Saturn.
Earth falls away.
All there is, is you.

You catch me as I convulse and collapse in your arms.

“Did I hurt you?” You asked in a fatherly worried tone. I smile at you care.
I shake my head, no.

You gave me what I asked for.
“No, you didn't hurt me.”

You tend to my body with lavender oil and cocoa butter.

You kiss me softly and hold me close.

Your hand, gently caressing my neck.

You are everything I need.

You are my Daddy.

I look into your eyes and whisper the truth.

“You set me free.”

I feel like I don't fit.

Not here.

Not anywhere.

I have desires.

Fantasies.

I don't know how to get them fulfilled.

It's not because there aren’t men around.

I want to feel attraction and desire.

I want to feel wanted.

Like a woman you need.

I want to be a needed.

Not simply a hole you can fill.

 

I am lonely.

In my bones lonely.

I can feel me giving up hope of ever having the kind of deep connection, care, and trust I crave.

I may have to settle for sex.

I want to want you.

To reach out with trembling fingers and trace your taunt and muscular chest, abdomen then lower...

Until my hand reaches your manhood and I have the courage to hold you, firm.

 

I want to want to get on my knees for you.

To put you in my mouth and make you shiver.

I want to lick you.

Stroke you.

Suck you with my mouth while fondling your sac with my feather-light touch.

 

I want you to want my so badly

You fuck my face.

Forcing my head back... 

As drops of your sweet pre-semen seeps from the  corner of my mouth.

You pull me up off of my knees and and sit me on your lap as you enter my wet, hot pussy...

hungry...

..for you.

 

I wrap my legs around your waist as your strong hands palm my ass and you fill me with you.

 

It's too much.

It’s too good.

 

You're too much.

Too good.

 

I try to move but you hold me in place.

You start to whisper to me.

Dark secrets I can't even write.

You lay me on the bed and you soften.

Something in you changed.

 

Desire has melted into care.

I see you bathe me.

Tend to my body.

Touch me soft.

And I cry.

 

06/07/21

 

Dear Daddy,

I wish I had a Daddy who could fuck me good.

 

I’d ask nicely. Dressed in black bustier, thong, fishnet stockings and matching garter belt.

 

Sitting pretty.

Hands on lap.

Head bowed.

On the floor.

 

I hear you walk through the door and my body wakes up.

 

She begins to tingle listening to your steps slowly coming up from behind...

 

Daddy, please fuck me.

Give me what I need.

 

Pull me to my feet and push me across the side of the bed so you can see my wetness flowing through my thong and down my thigh making a puddle on the side of the bed...

 

Rip my panties off and plunge your demanding tongue into my liquid pussy and tight ass until I screamed your name out loud.

Make me get on my knees and suck you big dick and mouthing your sac so I’m full of you.

 

Please Daddy...

 

Daddy I SO badly want to be YOUR nasty, naughty little slut.

I want to be your whore and let you hold me down and fuck me hard.

 

Wrap you power-thirsty fingers around my neck while I wrap my greedy legs around your waist as you hold me tight against your strong, hard chest and pound my pussy while I gasp for breath.

I want you to pull my hair and chock me while you make me ride your dick until I’m sore.

 

Yes, please spank me for being a bad, bad girl.

 

Tie me, face down, spread eagle.

Make me feel helpless.

Weak.

Completely dependent upon your mercy.

 

Use your brick hard dick, your powerful tongue and you feather light touch to torture me.

 

Take me to the brink of cumming and then pull out of me, leaving me shivering with need. Over and over again.

 

I want you to make me beg, Daddy.

Put me in my place.

Make me your bitch.

Your whore.

Your slut.

Control my body.

 

Make me yours, Daddy.

Yours.

All of yours...

... until all I can see, think and breathe is you...

 

Do you exist?

Or are you only real... in my dreams...

 

Title Dear Daddy

By: Topez