It’s interesting as time as passed my memory of sexual encounters with Ben are more fuzzy. Back in the day I could recall our dominant/submissive sessions with such clarity. I could retell them with such ease… that the mere thoughts would drive me wild.

Now after our sessions… I’m so worn out… and I know that it was amazing… but the details evade me. I think this is because he takes me to deeper places than before.   Take for example last night. We haven’t had a really intense session in several weeks. We planned on it for a couple days… and as the day arrived, my mind space wasn’t where I wanted it. What I did want was the feeling that a good emotion beating would bring. I needed it… I knew it. I needed more than a good spanking, I needed him to take me to this deep, dark place that left me a crying exhausted mess.

He asked if I was too tired as we had Ashley over the night before and I said no. He gave me instructions and told me to get to them as I only had so much time to get them accomplished. I set to my tasks and finished them with just enough time to await his arrival.

He was so cool… so in charge. Hell, he always is. He always knows what he is doing… what to do to arrive at his desired result. He knows me… inside out… how he can manipulate me in a way. It didn’t take long before I was in tears. He wanted to know why I felt overwhelmed… uneasy. I couldn’t give him an answer… try as I might.  Him asking me mad me feel even more uneasy… more resentful in a way that he was pushing for something I couldn’t answer.  I didn’t understand why I felt the way I did… I certainly couldn’t understand under such duress. I dunno, maybe that’s what he wanted. Perhaps he wanted me to feel flailing… unable to answer a simple question of why I felt the way I did. It seems so simple really, but it wasn’t. It still isn’t.

He kept pushing me past there. I do so love to be pushed, and he knows that better than anyone. My need to feel a bit uncomfortable… out of control. He pushed me for what seemed like forever. I endured everything he gave me.. the mind fuck that would leave me feeling centered when all was said and done. I endured until I was exhausted… till I couldn’t go on… till I had my fill.  And then…. he held me. He let me cry… he let me come down in his loving arms. He looked into my eyes… into my soul and told me all the things I needed to hear. How much he loves me… how he’ll always take care of me… always give me what I need…. that I was his… and he had me.

I wasn’t a vision of beauty I’m sure… all used and crying. It didn’t matter. It took me some time to come back to normal… to not feel completely drained.  I can remember the basics of what happened but to be able to write about each detail, well that’s fuzzy.  I suppose that sometimes details are just that…. they build an over all story… and that’s what is the most important. I love how deeply he takes me… how he makes me feel. It’s amazing… truly. I think it’s amazing that I trust him so deeply not to really harm me… that I can give myself over to him fully without hesitation.  If I only remember that… then I’m good.