crazy, happiness, kinky, life, love, mind, psychology, relationships, sex

Pride, BDSM, Sub

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You can’t destroy me unless you take my pride, take it away, and I will have nothing.

This got me pensive. What is pride? – I had no answer. I closed my eyes trying to imagine what it feels like to have pride and thought about Jim – endless planes, yachts, and houses; narcissism and power, inescapable excellence and unavoidable success.

I gave him a call, I was curious. – Do you have pride?

Don’t you want to say ‘hi’? – his voice was bitter and pathetic

I want to know your thoughts on pride

 – Why does it even matter now? We are not even together.

 – Did I hurt your pride?

 – What do you think?

Speaking to him was hard, I hung up, I still had feelings. His pride was the size of his 14 thousand square feet home, I could not deal with it, I left.

Early morning in bed, focusing on my body in search of what google defined as pride -“a feeling of being good and worthy”. I could not find or feel anything.

Take away my pride, and I will have nothing”, – I had nothing. No regrets no sorrow.

I was a sub in relations. I was giving in myself completely, melting, dissolving, relinquishing all my powers and control. I felt empty, non-existent, unable to identify myself with anyone or anything, surrendering my body, my ego, my pride, my self-worth, my values, my beliefs.

I was a sub, going with a flow, being quiet when asked, speaking when allowed, serving in bed and in the kitchen, being available to the needs of my master 24/7.

I was a sub. The pride was crushed, I was capable of sensing and perceiving the world freely without hysterical attempts to hold on to my self-identity. I could be whatever my master wanted me to be, I could switch the personalities like undies. I could flip from a slave to a master, attaining the lost control, going as far as my master wanted me to go.

Does not it bother you that he takes control over your life? It is manipulation and abuse, – my girlfriends could not grasp what it feels like to live outside the fixed self-identity, they were shocked, I was free, I had no pride, I did not care.

Jim was in his office when I came in later that day.

Please buy me an apartment in Orlando.

He slowly moved his gaze from the laptop, dark eyes and relentless calmness. – Why Orlando?

The energy of the big city, I want to feel it through my skin.

I want to feel you.

 – We broke up, it is over

 – And you really think I am stupid enough to keep investing in you?

 – I believe in miracles. It never hurts to ask.

 – Come back, and we will see.

No.

 – Than go home and let me work.

His secretary knocked, I let her in. She was carrying a huge fruit basket, I helped her put it on the desk and took an apple. I was ready to leave.

You asked me about my pride, Vixen, – Jim’s voice stopped me at the door. I turned around, I was curious. – I have none.

 – Me too, Jim, I am a sub.

 – I know. We match, we could do good together.

 – Buy me an apartment.

 – Take the fruit basket home.  

The fruits were yummy, I ate them later on the beach smelling the ocean and listening to the seagulls. I had no pride, no identity, nothing. I did not exist, I felt happy.

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Jim, Dominance and Submission, the Safe Word


I literally hated Jim’s Quid-Pro-Quo attitude. My timid “let’s be friends” crashed into his “I can’t be there for your without intimacy, it is not fair to me” . It was a bargain, the ongoing business project under the “get-more-give-nothing” slogan. One day I got tired of feeling angry, sad, and offended, since it was a mere waste of energy. He neither listened, nor understood. His “I want my lover back” was the only response to my attempts to explain why it will never happen.

I got quiet. He tried to get into my mind – I did not care. I am predictably pedestrian, but he never got that since he never listened.
 
          I want you, let’s start over again
          Leave me alone
          You are always busy for me
          Please leave me alone
 –          What do you want? Arrangement? How much? Talk to me….
 
I threw my head back and burst into laughter.  Something happened. Something flipped the switch in his head, and he turned into a stranger. The stranger grabbed my wrist, dragged me into the bedroom, and threw me on the bed. Our eyes met as he was forcing my legs apart. Glassy look, he was numb and freezingly callous. His unresponsiveness to my repetitive fuck-you-fuck-you-fuck-you was scary. I felt the sharp pain in my fractured knee and tried to release the leg from his body weight. All in vain, he was way too heavy. The pushed to the side panties cut into my skin adding to the absurdity of the situation.  My attempts to slap and bite were mixed with ongoing laughing and crying. I kept whispering I hate you, and I knew he did not care.
 
          You are a witch, –  he finally let me go.
           Get out, – The stranger turned into the Jim I knew; warm confidence, persistent dominance, and the buy-low-sell-high philosophy. I was no longer scared, just tired from the overall insanity.
          Why? We were just playing.
          You are nuts, – I adjusted the skirt and reached out for the hair brush. Shaking hands, trembling lips, still sobbing.  
          You told me you wanted it rough. I was trying to make you happy. You should have said the safe word. I would have stopped…
          Get out.
 
The next day Heather came to see me. She brought apples and Ibuprofen. Jim had pulled my hair too hard.  
 
          I do not want to see him any more
          He is a nice guy, Vixen, – I started crying, she handed me a tissue, – he has common sense, you should stay with him
          No, – I was thinking about Greg, his talented introversion, firm dick, and quiet psychopathy. I missed him. I wanted him back into my life.   
          Forget about Greg, eat.
 
 I loved Heather, she was a good friend. The apples were sweet, Ibuprofen numbed the pain. I smiled, I felt better.