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I need to cry.

July 20th, 2010

I need to cry.

Not because I’m frustrated, or angry, or hurt, or sad, or scared.  I mean, I’m sure those things will have their place when the torrent finally comes.  But that’s not the kind of cry I’m talking about.

I need to scream.

I need to beg.

Even during that scene I’m always talking about where I felt like I had just dropped three hits of ecstasy when M was finished, I managed to keep from begging.  But that might have been the whole being gagged thing.

I won’t admit to it.  Won’t ask for it. 

I whine about wanting to get fucked.  I hint at wanting to be hurt.  Giggle nervously when M growls at me that He’s going to.  But that’s as far as I go.  Beyond that, I try to act indifferent.  As if my excitement will definitely make it happen, and I think I won’t be able to handle it.

And then…

When He hurts me I get mad.

I glare and grumble and growl and grump.  I make comments about how He’s doing it wrong, or how that’s not the kind of hurt I was talking about, or…

And both of us know that’s the biggest indicator that I need it.

That… and the fact that I stoically take whatever He gives me, now, with a scrunched up face, and a lot of heavy breathing, but only the slightest wetness at my eyes, and hardly a whimper.  I fight the tears as if they’re Satan nipping at my heels.  As if crying somehow makes me “less than”.

We need a house with a basement.  A single-occupant house with a basement.

Oh god.  That thought both thrills and terrifies me.

Yeah… I need to cry.

To M: Okay, so I lied.  Getting beat and fucked did make my mind go in a million directions.  Maybe you should beat me for lying.  ~nods~

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