Gardner’s blog, pain, and thinking about Mr. NY

I sat alone on my couch tonight, with a cold beer, and read Mr. Gardner’s blog. I find that i’m envious at the ability he has to put his thoughts down, and doing so very eloquently.

Reading what he’s posted, has made me think of my own relationships, the cheating I’ve done, and those that cheated on me. It brings back much pain. Not just my own pain, pain that was caused by others, but i do feel pain knowing that i have hurt others. Especially others that have loved me, and that i loved.

Still, thinking about that pain has the same effect it always does. i’m an emo. i cant help it. I contemplated masturbating while i was reading Mr. Gardner’s blog….but then i thought how insensitive of me to derive such pleasure from someone elses pain. I am not a sadist. of any sort. i’m an emotional masochist. and I hate that part.

I cant help to let my mind wander…..thinking back to being in the ‘Cuse with Mr. NY. Him taking me to the XXX theater. we were the first people in the theater that day, and the lights were still on. i dont even recall what was on the screen, i was too nervous and scared to pay attention to anything except for Mr. NY.

He had me wear a denim mini skirt, and a low cut sweater with my typical cami underneath, however other than my boots, that’s all i was allowed. He got as comfy as possible in the theater seats, and immediately grabbed me by the hair and guided my head towards the zipper of his jeans. He was definitely hard, i could see the outline through his jeans. He undid his jeans and impaled his cock with my mouth. I was mortified. i recall feeling like my entire body was turning beet red at the thought of who might see us. At the same time, that very thought was making me wet beyond belief. He knows that about me, humiliation is one of my kinks.

He let me suck his cock only for a short time, before he ordered me to sit up, and to put each leg over the arm rests. This effectively had my skirt ride up to hip level, leaving my pussy uncovered by clothing, for anyone to see. And as i put my legs up, i finally looked around and noticed that we had started to gather a crowd as i was sucking his cock. 6 to 8 men were standing around, in the row in front, in the isle, and behind us a row or so back, peering over the seats to watch us.

Mr. NY pulled my sweater down, and pulled on my nipple rings until i started to catch my breath, and moan slightly, and then told me to start playing with myself for the audience. I’m fairly sure i had been so wet i was already making a wet spot on my seat. And i was still mortified, and embarrassed so much so, that i buried my head in his shoulder as i continued to masturbate.

He likes to deny me to orgasm, and thankfully while he did deny me that this time, it wasnt for too terribly long. i dont think i could have held off long anyways with all those men looking at me. A few more men had wandered down by this time, and a couple even had their cocks out masturbating in front of us.

He would let me masturbate to the cusp, about to go off the edge, and then stop me. Leaving me panting, needy and desperate. He would have me begin to masturbate again and push me to the edge, each time not letting me cum. After about the third time, he finally let me cum. I think his purpose was because i tend to be very verbal and loud when i cum. This time was no exception to that, actually i think i came longer and louder than normal. pushing my hips and pussy up as i came, as if i were trying to touch my clit to some non existent person above me.

He didnt let me stop there. Because i can come multiple times, as many as 9 times in a row without stopping, he had me continue. if i looked like i was going to stop, he would pinch and twist my nipples and whisper in my ear that if i didnt continue to masturbate he would walk out and leave me there at the mercy of the audience of obviously aroused men.

it took less time for me to cum the second time, and i noticed that the man who was at the ticket counter, and sold us the tickets had heard me, and he had also made his way down the isle to watch me. Mr. NY would lean in and tell me that he was going to bend me over the arm rest at the isle, so my ass and pussy were exposed, and allow the men to fuck me if they wanted or cum on me. That was all i needed, and i came again. This time, i had my face in Mr. NY’s shoulder so it would help muffle my screams of pleasure as it overtook me.

I was still nervous, scared, mortified, and VERY weak in the knees, but he pulled my sweater up, and grabbed my hand and helped me up. We left the theater together. He still looked rather neat and put together, i on the other hand was disheveled and my hair was in what i like to call a “fuck knot” from writhing around when i came.

At the time, i thought i would never do that again. I have since wished many times i could go back and do it over, and over and over. Mr. NY really knew how to push my limits.

*sigh*

i do miss him.

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Aside

Part 6…. Broken love and trust

After I quit my job, i started to see a counselor. i was put on anti-anxiety meds. i only took them for a few days. i didn’t like walking around in a haze, like i was stoned out of my mind. I saw the doc a couple more times, but they really seemed like they wanted to push meds to help me get past my depression, instead of enabling me with the tools to do it myself. Enough of that. Quacks!

I spent December at home with my family, depressed, playing a MMORPG with Mr. NY. While he did push my limits in BDSM, for the most part he could tell when i was close to breaking. and he didn’t go there. he did always try to reassure me, and show me his feelings. Yes he lied, Yes he hid, Yes he could be mean, but it wasn’t anywhere close to the levels that B was. And B meant the things he said to me, he was constantly laughing at me, calling me names, doing everything he thought he could do, to get me into tears. And then he would turn his back, because it was my fault, i did it to myself. 😦

In January B decided he wanted me to try to go to be with Mr. NY on a permanent basis. he helped me pack my stuff, gave me money, and sent me on my way. I was there for about a month. I missed my family a lot. sometimes that included B. When i tried to call, or text no one would answer me. I didn’t get responses. I missed birthdays etc, and still couldn’t get a response from any of them. The more i thought about it, the more i felt that B was pushing me to do this so he could say how i had abandoned my family, and he would be able to take everything from me.

I struggled while with Mr. NY. We did a lot of super kinky things, went to BDSM events, invited others to join in our sexcapades. (not as much fun as i had hoped it would be though……i longed to be cucked)

Some time in 2009 i happened across a blog from Jen. Jen and Steve were a BDSM couple, Heidi was Steve’s sister, and she factors in there somehow…not sure i believe all that i read though. Anyways, Jen was a cuckquean, and Steve was her husband/Master, and he was at that time, in the middle of sleeping his way through their towns population of eligible women. It was all public, everyone knew he was married, and flaunted it in Jen’s face.

Jen and i spoke a few times, and the more i spoke to her, the more i read on her blog as well as a online fetish site that we were both members of, the more i realized that emotional masochism was only a part of it. I was a cuckquean.

When i met B, i knew i wanted to see him with another woman. i just didn’t get all of it, and it really didn’t make any sense to me, but i knew i wanted it anyways. i just figured that it was more along the lines of being a voyeur. Nope. I didn’t just want to watch. and i didn’t want a threesome either. I wanted to be cucked. i wanted the pain of that jealousy, the pain that hurts sooooo bad, and yet makes me feel alive, and horny, and wetter than i could ever imagine.

Even now writing this, the thought of it is having much the same effect. i feel my clit throb, my nipples get hard and i want nothing more than to rub one out as we speak. Unfortunately, i don’t think my employer would think to much of that if i did!

Mr. NY would push my limits, he drove me to one of his buddies homes, and dropped me off, and told me that he and his friend had an agreement, that i was going to do what he wanted, no matter what that was. if i didn’t, i could expect that my stuff would be relocated curb side, and not be allowed back in.

He also liked taking me to adult stores, (book stores, toy stores, etc…) and XXX rated movies. He would always end up pinching and prodding, and fucking me in the parking lot where patrons could stop to watch, or forcing me to cum in the theater surrounded by a dozen or more men masturbating while watching me.

Yes, this was all incredible, and i have wished i could do things like that again, but i don’t currently have anyone in my life that i trust that much, or who is interested in those things. and cucking, and humiliation, and some physical pain as well as objectification. This is why i said that i think Mr. NY just might be my perfect kinky match.

 

(more to follow….)

part 5 …..State of Love And Trust

Ok. Im a little corny, but i couldnt resist throwing in a Pearl Jam reference 🙂

 

During the fall of 2009, B was having sex with Y. But Mr. NY was also seeing someone. He began to see “Red”. They met face to face on October 8th. Red became his submissive at that time. He push a lot of limits with her that he and i had talked about, and i was looking forward to being able to do those things with him.

I didnt know about his involvement with Red until the day before Halloween. He spent pretty much every day with her. And all of thier interactions were Dom/sub. Nothing was vanilla. During that time he spoke to me less and less. While we still talked daily, i was hurt and confused about both B and Mr. NY.

At the beginning of that month B asked me to go to Chicago to his HS reunion. I was hoping it would be a chance for us to reconnect as a couple. He drove up 2 days before i flew in. After i arrived, i was exhausted and needed to eat and rest a bit. B decided to go to a non sponsored event called a mixer. He was gone for hours. I tried to call, and text but got no response, and he had the only car.

He arrived back with lipstick on his shirt and in one of the most hateful and evil moods i had ever seen in him. He tried to choke me as i was crying. Really choke me. He punched me in the side of my head. He took my stuff to his car with the intentions of dropping me at the airport and telling me to find my own way home. I was in his way, and ruining everything for him. He then tried to force me out of the moving car.

The next night at the reunion, he took me and then ignored me. I didnt know a single person. And he didnt speak to me, nor introduce me. A couple of hours later, he forced me in the car and dropped me off at the hotel, and went back so he could have sex with Ms. Berry.

It was a long ride back to the DC area. I cried the entire 12 hours.

So i was very hurt and alone. I felt discarded, unwanted and unloved. I felt more isolated and worthless during this time.

After Mr. NY told me about Red, i made the trip to see him. I will get into this story in a bit. I was there 5 days, upon my return home, i walked in to find B having sex with my oldest daughters best friend. She turned 18 a week before. And she had been living with us, and i had been supporting her and treating her as my own daughter. I’ll call her Rex going forward.

I didnt throw a fit. I didnt cry. Rex however grabbed her clothes, climbed off my husband, and ran out. I went upstairs alone, and began crying. B came up screaming at me. He got dressed, and ran out after Rex, leaving me sobbing. The 6 weeks that preceeded this was probably the worst in my life. I prayed and asked God to please let me die. I wanted to stop hurting. I couldnt take being told how worthless i was anymore. B told me how he had to have sex with other women, because since i had kids my pussy was like a gaping grand canyon. How he couldnt feel me ever. He told me i was fat. Old. Ugly. A horrible mother. And since i was adopted he threw in how my birth parents didnt even want me. The parents who did adopt me both left me when i wad 15. No one wanted me. I became so depressed, and despindant i quit my job. I felt my family was the most important. And i loved them, and i really just wanted someone to love me back.

During this, my youngest kids would call me a nasty cunt to my face. B had become accustom to calling me such things in front of them. They woud tell me they didnt love me. It just drove me further into depression.

 

 

part 4….. long distance

Much of the relationship i had with Mr. NY was long distance since he lived in upstate NY, and i in the Washington DC area. He made 2 visits here to see me, and i went up there so many times i honestly don’t recall.

Long distance consisted of any type of communication except smoke signals. Phone, texting, email, google voice, yahoo, face time, skype, AOL IM, ventrillo, and im probably leaving something out but you get the drift. We talked multiple times every day. Much of 2008 was just learning about each other, testing boundaries, while he was figuring out the Dom side he has. As of the writing of this, mr. NY is probably my perfect kinky match.

In late 2008, i accidentally discovered that Mr. NY had been lying to me. I was crushed. Because i was married to, and still living with B, i decided after talking to Mr. NY, that this particular lie would be forgiven, we would continue on. He would be honest, as would i, and i would visit as much as i could as his submissive.

In April of 2009, i found Mr. NY in another lie. Yes again i was crushed. This time however, i could not let this go as easily. He had been sleeping with an X GF.  For a while, and hiding and lying to me about it.

Somewhere around this time is when i started to understand that i really was an emotional masochist. Anything that Mr. NY did to me along the lines of cheating, or pulling my emotional strings, made me melt. It made me so wet and horny, i could barely keep my hands off my pussy trying to make myself cum.

I don’t get it. I hate it. But that’s what this very specific type of emotional pain does to me. It took me a bit to connect the dots but this is where it began.

 

While i am in the midst of my LDR with Mr. NY, im still living in the same house with B. We are basically going through the motions. We don’t have sex at all, we work opposite shifts so in fact we really don’t even see one another much, nor sleep in the same bed together.

At some point in 2009 i told B that i had continued my relationship with Mr. NY and many of the BDSM aspects of it. Underneath it all, i loved B. I didn’t want to be vanilla, and while that’s no excuse it’s why i began and continued my LDR with Mr. NY   Yes it was wrong. On many levels. I also understand that i opened the door for some of the way i was treated in the years to follow.

B told me he was going to watch a football game with some of the “guys” from his H. S. And he would be home after the game. When he failed to show up after the game, i called him only to find him with Y. (A woman he did go to school with)

He was arrested for driving on a suspended license that night, and the following morning i pawned my rings to bail him out. And missed work on top of it all. 3 weeks later, i was at work when our daughter called me to ask where B was. I told her at home sleeping. She explained he wasn’t there, she was there, and he was nowhere around.

I phoned B, and when he answered he sounded much like i woke him up. I tried my best not to sound upset and asked him where he was. He replied to me he was in the bathroom. Well, since i knew he wasn’t at home, i asked who’s bathroom he was in. He responded he was at home. I then explained i knew he wasn’t.

He eventually told me he was at Y’s house. I asked if he had sex with her. He paused before he told me yes.

I felt everything fade to black. I couldn’t breathe. I felt my heart breaking. I felt like i was going to wet myself. Like i was going to pass out. I couldn’t stay at work, i left and headed home. I asked him to come home and talk to me. He refused. I told him i loved him while sobbing. I begged him to come home and love me too. He said nothing. Eventually he was laughing at me in front of Y telling me how he lived me as the mother to his children, but that he wasn’t in love with me. He wasn’t going to come see me. He didn’t care.

I drove to his work later that night. An hour and a half away. I sobbed the entire time. I think this is the first time i really entertained the thought of suicide. When i got there he didn’t say much. He changed his phone number, and told me he wouldn’t contact Y again.

I found out later that he kept up his contact with her.

 

part 3 A little bit of history

After finding out about B’s plans, i was very upset. Then i hear from co-workers that B was telling them he was leaving me for her, introducing her as his GF. not to mention the visits that i hadnt known about because she lived so close. 

Eventually, i gave an ultimatum, and he ended things with M. 

Fast Fwd 6 months or so, B is at a new job, and i went to pick him up one afternoon. I see him fawning over the office assistant. Of course he denied it all. Told me i was mental. Making it all up. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

He starts coming home later and later. Eventually one night he hadnt come home yet, and it was 3 hours before i had to start getting ready for work. I called, and he told me he would be home within the hour. Then he shut his phone off. 12 hours later he showed up, explaining to me he had been out with people from work, had to much to drink and was sleeping in his car. 

I made him drop his pants, and sniffed him. SOAP. Thats all i could smell. I knew it. And told him that he just got busted. Of course he denied it. Said the office assistant wasnt there. 

Later, i find out he had been having an affair with her and told the rest of the office that he and i had an open marriage. 

Well, i was ANGRY. I was also stronger then than i am now. I figured whats good for the goose is good for the gander. I started seeing someone. He had Dominant tendancies, but wasnt into BDSM. Not yet at least. I’ll call him Mr. NY. My relationship with Mr. NY would last from June 2008 through early 2011. 

 

( will add to this post later…… Family stuff to do)

compensating

com·pen·sate
ˈkämpənˌsāt/
verb
gerund or present participle: compensating

 

make up for (something unwelcome or unpleasant) by exerting an opposite force or effect.
“officials have boosted levies to compensate for huge deficits”
  • act to neutralize or correct (a deficiency or abnormality in a physical property or effect).
    “the output voltage rises, compensating for the original fall”
    synonyms: balance (out), counterbalancecounteractoffset, make up for, cancel out, neutralizenegative More
     

     

 

Ive been compensating. But not in a good way. 

Over the past 2 years or so, ive allowed myself to be subjected to a shit ton of emotional issues stemming from the break up of my marriage to B. 

 

He would tell me he loves me, tell me im his world, and how he wants to try to work on our relationship. I would give him another chance, and instead of trying, he would ignore me. Not call. Not text, no emails, nothing. A few days go by, i am more upset. Having been ignored, and discarded immeidately after i gave him a chance. I tell him im angry. I tell him why. And im usually crying by the time it reaches this point. 

Unfortunately, when he hears me crying he goes from his normal behavior of a self centered insensitive prick, to being abusive. Mentally, emotionally and physically. 

He flips that switch, and tells me im worthless. Fat and nasty. Disgusting and old. He laughs at me and makes fun of me for crying. If i ask him to talk to me he says no and walks away. 

Occasionally he would tell me he was going to fuck who he wanted. Where he wanted. And i wasnt going to do shit about it. 

Now all of this is most definately emo. And it was during a scene he would get at A+. But its not. There is no after care, and infact the emotional abuse never stopped. He continued to lie, hide and decieve me. Driving me further into an emotional pergatory. 

One day, after a year or so of this, and a month or so after i left him, i discovered if i caused myself physical pain, it detracted from the unbearable emotional pain i was going through. 

I would hit my head into walls. Pull on body piercings until they looked as though they would be ripped out. I started punching myself in the face. Enough that it left some pretty severe bruises. This wasnt enough to stop the pain though. I started bringing steak knives with me. I could cut myself when things became too emotionally painful. This is how i compensated. 

Unfortunately it usually didnt last long. Except the bruising. Or lacerations. 

Its not compensation, its HELL. 

 

I would like to say ive gotten past all this, but i havent. Its not nearly as bad right now, but is by no means done. 

Ive asked him to just love me. Begged him actually. Choked the words out through my sobbs. Only to be laughed at. 3 or more years of this with episodes at least once a week, ocasionally moe often, has left me emotionally shattered in pieces. 

 

Yes. I know i need to heal myself. 

Im working on that. This blog is hopefully the beginning of that journey. 

Free falling vs. safety net…..and humpty dumpty?

i was just thinking about things on my hour long drive to work this morning, as i often do. well, between thinking, and singing along to Eddie Vedder (I have a bit of a thing for Pearl Jam).

While i know that i am emotionally driven (as i suspect many women are) i believe that i am more so than others and that’s partly because i havent met too many emotional masochists thus far. When playing in BDSM, whether with a regular play partner, a top, Dom, Master, or someone you negotiated a one time scene with, boundaries are discussed for both, safewords, and after care.

It’s kinda difficult to explain to people that emo is part of my kink. it’s my flavor. it’s not vanilla, but i dont think it’s all that “spicy” either if you think about it. however, it damn sure is painful. not just emotionally, but sometimes can be physically painful. i often get chest pains. an ache in my heart,

Unfortunately, because this is my flavor of kink, i have to get to know someone pretty well, and develop a pretty high level of trust, and dare i say it, but be on the cusp of falling for them before i can really get involved in emo play. So, often there is physical play only. Whips, floggers, spanking (which i do like, although i’m not sure why) etc….

put me on the cusp…..and i crave attention. i crave to be dominated, humiliated, treated as an object. and yes, cuck’d. But for someone who doesnt understand aftercare still needs to be administered, or maybe they understand just really could care less, all of that stuff, is really going to damage a person. when you add up all that emotional damage, instill doubts, make the person think they are not worth anything…..well that much damage is going to break something. It doesnt mean it wont have an effect. unfortunately i have been with people that i have explained emo to. written about it, given them articles etc, and was told they are good, they understand what it is i need (and they are pretty darn good at inflicting emo pain) but they failed to follow through with the aftercare. I dont know about others, but for me aftercare is kinda an ongoing thing. i mean, right after the scene, the Dom may have to just hold my hand. rub my arm, whisper in my ear. Tell me i am pretty, valuable, they want to play/see me again, all the mushy stuff. just basically reinforce that he isnt leaving me for someone else, because i’m pitiful and pathetic.

sometimes, (depending upon who, and the level of our relationship) that may mean that my aftercare will last a while. The Dom may have to take a few minutes here and there, to reassure me emotionally….that he’s not leaving me. That’s my safety net, so to speak. knowing that someone is not going to let me fall, and break. break everything.

and then there is the person that says they get it, who really doesnt, and does a scene, pats me on the head when they are done, tells me for a minute that it’s all good, and am i ok?…..clearly not understanding that the emotional pain doesnt go away instantly. i may be in a fog, trying to rationalize all this out in my head. …… and then they go on to do whatever it is that was on their agenda next. leaving me in a lump of pain. shell shocked. that’s the free fall…..i’m falling, headed towards smashing to bits, completely breaking me into a million little pieces.

i think that’s where i am right now actually. and i’m really working on learning how to not be like humpty dumpty and depend on everyone else to put me back together again, but to put myself back together.

it’s not easy. i dont even know how i got this way. what made emo my flavor of kink, and why?! and above all, why the hell does it have that sexual effect on me? how i feel so desperate, empty, and crave the other person sooooo much i would do anything, anywhere. and i mean that. ANYTHING.

is there a cure for it? lol

as a side note, my Daddy is the only man i have ever been with who has not cheated on me. the only one. He however, doesnt get the emo thing, so we just dont go there.

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