How Did He Know?

As some of you on FL may know, we are out of town for 5 days. Packing for 5 people, 3 of them small snot nosed ankle biters, is no small feat. I usually end up picking out clothes for everyone and He makes it all fit in the suitcases as needed. We don’t normally go on trips this long, so I was more stressed than usual about packing, and having the stuff we needed, and making sure nothing vital is left 500 miles behind.

The evening before we left, I was hitting my panic-control stride. When I am in full on panic control, I’m terse, tense, focused and irritable. I was going over packing lists, dealing with tired, excited, anxious kids, and an Owner that is laid-back to the point of comatose. After getting the kids to bed and the majority of luggage packed, I suggested we shower and prep for the trip. He putzed around some more, pushing the shower back another 30 minutes, which didn’t help my frustration, because I was tired and just wanted to shower and sleep. Finally, He gathered up our stuff and we headed into the shower.

I warned Him that I had to shave everything that night, as the leg hairs were about ready for braiding. Shortly after I washed my face, but while I still had shampoo in my hair, He announced He had to piss. I settled down onto the tub floor, kneeling with my breasts pressed together and my mouth open. His hot, aromatic piss landed on my tits, and my mind emptied. I was finally in the moment again. I could just let go and be His, with no worries, no demands, nothing beyond kneeling with His water washing over me. After He was relieved, He shook His dick at me, silently demanding a blow job. The first threads of irritation washed over me as I sucked Him into my mouth, thinking about how long it would be before I could go to bed…how much hot water wasn’t going to be there for me to shave in…how it had been so long since I had orgasmed…I didn’t want to be there anymore. I wasn’t in the moment anymore, and I had lost that slave composure again. I was tired, sad, aggravated, frustrated as I deep throated Him and licked his member.

He pulled me away by my hair, and said “How about we fuck your ass?” in a teasing tone that didn’t allow for any discussion. I huffed from the floor of the tub, having far passed the end of my patience and entered pissy slave territory.

“You realize I still have to shave, and in cold water, and I am dead ass tired, right?” I crabbily asked Him.

“Yep. Now get the oil.” He smirked at me.

So I got the oil and assumed the position, still frustrated and resentful. He slid His hand down my backside, seeking out my puckered asshole. I actively tried to relax as He started lubing me up with the oil, but my frustration was holding me back. He slowly worked a finger in me, then started on two as I focused on my breathing and battled the anger and resentment away.

“Play with your cunt,” He ordered.

Part of my mind was thrilled at the command, but the other part groaned. I wanted the orgasms, but I didn’t want to let go of my righteous (to me) anger and struggle. I didn’t want to kneel to Him. I didn’t want to humble myself in the throes of passion.

I swirled my fingers in the oil and lightly tapped my clit. It was electrifying, and I flushed hot red as my body shivered. He felt my response and pressed into me, His fingers more insistent and demanding in my ass. I felt Him draw away, and I heard the ‘snick’ of the lube cap as He poured some oil over His stiffened pole. Then He pressed into me again, this time seeking warm haven in my slowly yielding hole. The pain, and the pleasure, and the pressure, the subjugation to His will; it all welled up in me, whipping into a painfully exquisite orgasm that had me seeing cross-eyed. He came the next stroke, driving me into the wall and making me see more stars.

I caught my breath, slumped against the wall. He withdrew, and I felt sore and physically empty, but mentally fulfilled and calm. I had achieved that moment of calm and serenity again.

I thanked Him from the bottom of my heart. Because of His insistence that I do as I am told, I was able to finally relax and sleep restfully, something I hadn’t achieved in quite a few days.

How did He know that when I said “No, I don’t want to,” it meant “Yes, but I can’t ask for it yet”? How did He know that I needed to be used and taken, against my will? How does He know me, better than I know myself at that time?

How does He know me so well?



1 thought on “How Did He Know?

  1. I’m here for the first time and… I know the situation 🙂 That’s the biggest secret for me. How do they know things like that… In my opinion being a Dom is the hardest part of that relationship… No matter how often do I moan about my duties… 🙂 P.S. Sorry for my english 😉

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