Another one bites the dust

It is very possible that the person this post is about will see it.  Part of me feels bad because I am about to be so brutally honest – but, this is MY blog and this was my experience.  From now on, I’ll have to warn anyone who ever speaks to me: I blog in the same way that Taylor Swift writes songs.

I have this horrible habit: I trust people who do not deserve it and am wary of those that do.  It has always been this way.

We met on a vanilla dating site, believe it or not, but he recognized me from my profile on Collarspace.  Yes, I have one of those.  Apparently we had messaged back and forth.  That should have been red flag number one.

I did enjoy talking to him.  We had a lot in common – vanilla and kinky.  He called himself a Master though and initially said he was looking for a slave.  I am NOT and will NEVER be a slave.  He assured me this was okay.  Although, I am not sure he truly understood the difference.

Much like myself, he was looking for a real relationship within the D/s dynamic.  I don’t know why I trusted him.  We hung out a few times before anything happened – it went alright, but was not amazing.  I was NOT attracted to him but I kept trying to convince myself his personality would make up for it.

The first time we “played” was just a spanking.  No issues there.  Spanking is and always has been my main fetish.  It wasn’t overly hard – just his hand and a belt.  Nothing here was throwing up a red flag, it actually helped calm my anxiety.

The next time was more, spanking and an orgasm.

The next time, he wanted a blow job.  I won’t lie – I enjoy doing that, always have.  But, this time I didn’t enjoy it.  It tasted strange, it smelled worse.  Not diseased or anything, just dirty.  I realize that is so much TMI.  Sorry.  How does one even bring that up?  I had to hold my breath to avoid gagging more than I already was.

I recently read a post on FetLife about ‘sub frenzy’ and I am certain I had it.  He wasn’t what I wanted, or even close, but I was just so desperate to fulfill my submissive desires.  His cock made me gag, not in a good way, and I was willing to keep going because I thought I was being “good.”

He bought me a collar and told me he took it seriously. We actually went to a store and bought it (a long with a plug).  I prefer online shopping so I was miserable the entire time.  I just wanted to get out of the store.  The second he put that collar on my neck, my anxiety sky-rocketed.

One night he called to tell me he was having bad nightmares, wanted to focus more on work, didn’t think he could stay in control, excuse after excuse after excuse.  He kept repeating, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” as if it made some sort of difference or legitimatized his excuses.

My suspicion is that he couldn’t handle taking it as slow as I needed it to go.  He wanted a slave and I made it clear I would never be one.

Strangely out of character, I was not upset.  I hung up the phone, took a deep breath, and that was it.  He had only been in my life a short time – no need to waste any more of it.



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