Being Used

Being used has got to be one of my biggest turn ons. I don't mean the usual he takes his pleasure from me and then drifts off to sleep either.

I like it when he goes all cold and hard, like granite. His eyes are even sharp, brittle...none of the usual warmth. His tone of voice is edged, hard, no emotion. His touches are even hard, his hands feeling like iron in my hair or wrapped around my throat. And the words he says, O the words. Harsh, cruel, guttural comments meant to break me down. It isn't long before I do break and the tears well up in my eyes while, simultaneously, my juices flow below.

This is the only time I actually feel a spark of fear. It's at this time that I feel he truly could kill me and not feel a bit of remorse and it turns me on. Using my body I beg him to go as far as he is able with it. I offer myself up to him as wholly as I am able.

I've been thinking about, craving, being used by him like this again. I can't seem to get it out of my mind today. I'm trying, goodness knows I have loads of things to do, but I can't stop thinking and shivering at the images playing out in my mind. There's a throbbing warmth between my legs that just can't be ignored.

I sent him an e-mail telling him that I was thinking of him and what I was thinking. I wonder what his reaction tonight will be when he reads it. I'll likely be sitting nearby watching, waiting, hoping.

I can't explain why it turns me on so, it just does and I've had the best orgasms of my life during such use. I do like being pushed to a point where I can do nothing but react, I like being reduced to an unthinking state, to only feeling and reacting. I'm left limp and wrung out afterwards and eager for the cuddling and stroking that often happens. I think we both need it after such an intense experience.

It's been such a long, long, time since he's done that, used me in that way. I wonder why.