Category: BDSM Stories

Some Like The Thorns

by Kalies©

I wanted to grab a fucking bottle of vodka and chuck it. Or throw it. Or burn it.

Extraordinary stress, huh? Yeah that is what I am feeling. Damn pissed off at Daniel. We had an argument last night about where we are headed and in the midst of it, he said we should part ways for a while.

Part ways, my ass. I hate it when someone call quits to a relationship in the middle of some bouts of depression, anger or stress. If it is so serious, stop making decisions that fucking affect other people.

I grabbed the closest thing next to me and threw it against the wall. The glass shattered and I felt my anger calm a little. I kept staring at the wall where the glass landed and broke for God knows how long when I heard the keys turn in the door.

Daniel walked in in his work cloth: starch white shirt with blue vertical stripes, the one we picked up from Boss last month with charcoal wrinkle-free pants that I recognize from Banana Republic. We bought the pants just last week. I liked the style so much, I persuaded Daniel to buy five of them.

God, he looks good and I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him for looking so fucking good and making it difficult for me to hate him, but I do. I hate him for making me feel unworthy. I am a God-damn Domme. His Domme. I ran this house. I have my career. I pay my taxes. I manage his damn accounts and I make sure he has money to retire on. Part ways, my ass.

"Hey." Daniel said in his normal everyday let's-talk-about-how-was-your-day tone as he hanged the jacket that was on his arms in the closet. I narrowed my eyes and said nothing.

Upon my silence, Daniel turned around to look at me. I could see the moment that he realized that I was mad, the moment he realized that I was mad at him, the moment when he stand there confused about why I am mad at him and lastly the moment when it dawned to him what I am mad at him with. Yeah, I could read him like that. Part ways, my ass.

"Kerry. Listen. About last night..." He stopped when I straightened my arm and pointed at the wall that I threw the glass at. His eyes followed my hand to the wall and then down to the pieces of the broken glass.

He looked back at me and I glared at him. He winced and hid it. He knows how much I hate it. I could care less about anything else except that and he said it in the middle of a shouting match, which abruptly ended as I walked out of our bedroom and went to sleep in the spare bedroom.

He took a breath and walked into the open kitchen. He dropped his briefcase on the counter and took out the broom and dustpan. He carried the broom and dustpan out of the kitchen when I noticed that he had taken his shoes off. I pouted and made a face. He won't see where all the broken pieces of glass are.

Before he could reach the living room, I dashed over and took the broom and dustpan from him without a word. Just because I don't want him to cut himself does not mean I am not still mad at him. I started brushing six feet away from the clusters of glass, until all the pieces were gathered in the center. I collected everything in the dustpan.

There might be shards around still. I stood up to get the vacuum when I see Daniel standing there with the handheld vacuum. I gave him a look. Part ways, my ass.

I took a few step back and sat down in the sofa as I watched Daniel vacuumed the carpet. I hope he steps on a shard or cut himself. No, I do not really wish that, but I would feel better if he hurts a bit right now.

Daniel continued to vacuum the carpet. He sure is taking his sweet time. My hands started to tap on my leg and Daniel looked up at last.

"What do you want me to do?" Daniel asked. I narrowed my eyes for a second but said nothing. Daniel knows better and he did. Daniel placed the handheld vacuum beneath the tea table and kneeled in front of me with his head down, eyes on the ground.

"I am sorry, Mistress." It was odd to hear those words from Daniel, who is dressed in his work cloth. Usually, I hear them from him when he is naked with his collar and chain on. Or when he is dripped with candle wax or when his bare bottom is red from being spanked, flogged and paddled. The novelty of hearing those words from him humbles me, which made me pause. I narrowed my eyes further. He would not play mind games with me now, would he?

I leaned forward in my seat. Usually when he apologizes, I would ruffle his hair and punish him for his transgression, after which all is forgiven. But this apology did not seem as genuine. I can not put my finger to it, so I tipped his chin instead. I want the truth from his face.

His eyes met mine and then his brows stretched backward as he flattened his expressions. Apologies, my ass!

"Go to the bedroom. Strip naked and wait for me. Standing position." I ordered as I dropped my hand from his chin. Daniel stood up and went upstairs to change. I looked at the handheld vacuum beneath the tea table and narrowed my eyes.

How should I punish him today? This is no play. This is punishment. As much as I hate myself sometimes, I respect the fundamentals of the lifestyle. A punishment need to be just and fitting. I am not out for revenge, this is about correcting his behavior.

-Flashback-

"Kerry! This is not working for me. I need time. You are smothering me!" Daniel yelled at me.

"I AM smothering you? I care for you and you think that is smothering? What did I do that you feel is smothering?" I yelled back.

"Everything! Everything you do is smothering. All you do is smothering. The way you talk. The way you touch. Every breath you take smothers me." Daniel yelled. "I enjoy attention, but not like this. This is not working for me! I am not happy! I am moving on. We should part ways."

I stared at Daniel. I could not believe he said that. The first rule I ever said to him is do not make decisions about us. "If you are not happy, tell me why. Do not leave me at the first chance without giving me a chance to correct it. And I promise to do the same."

Daniel looked at me. It is pointless to tell him that I hate what he said. He knows I hate it and he said it. I turned around, grabbed my phone and went into the spare bedroom next door, slamming the door shut.

-Flashback-

He said he need time. He said I smother him. He said he does not enjoy the kind of attention I give and he said we should part ways. I didn't need to think any further. I knew the perfect punishment for him. It will give him everything he wants. Part ways, my ass.

Having decided, I stood up from sofa and swayed. Damn, when was the last time I ate?

I walked to the kitchen. There is prosciutto in the fridge and some ficelle bread on the counter. I made myself a small sandwich and poured myself a glass of water. Halfway through the meal, I paused. It is best if I make him a sandwich now. I am not sure how Daniel will handle this punishment and the aftercare may require me to not leave his side, not even for a second.

I made another sandwich and poured another glass of water before finishing my meal and walking up the stairs to our master bedroom. Daniel was there, naked except for his collar and standing next to our bed, the bed that I did not sleep on last night. I put the plate of sandwich and water down on the table besides the reading chair that we kept in the master bedroom and walked to the dresser, where I kept all our toys.

I took out the armbinder, spreader bar, two chains and some hooks. I waved the armbinder in front of Daniel and he obediently straightened his back as his arms formed a Y-shape configuration.

I slipped the monoglove over his arms and adjusted his shoulders. This will take an hour, I do not want Daniel to be too comfortable, but not too uncomfortable either. He is going to use his nookies this time.

I tightened the string along his monoglove before bending his shoulder back and forth again to see if it was the right tightness. I put the spreader bar on next.

I hate him. All these toys, I had them customized. Because no matter how expensive they were, I wanted Daniel to have the best. It is not that we cannot afford them, so why not make sure it is customized to his height, weight and discomfort level.

Spreader bars on.

I hooked one side of the chain to the D-ring on the monoglove and hooked the other side to the wall. Daniel was bending forward in a 90-degree angle. Usually, this would be the position he assumes for plays that require restraints, like spanking. Today, however, I was kicking things up a notch. I went back to the dresser and took out the sensory deprivation mask that I had ordered for Daniel but have yet a chance to use.

While Daniel kept his head lowered, I could tell by the way his body was tensing that he saw the mask. The last time we did a sensory deprivation play, we ended up in bed for two days for aftercare. It was what I called a lighter form, too. Just blindfolds, ear plugs, gags and bondage. Daniel was naked but collared too. This time, he does not get the security of a collar. He does not want the comforts I provide, fine!

As I worked on unbuckling his collar, Daniel spoke up. "No. I am sorry, Mistress. I will never say it again. Please leave the collar on."

I paused at his words and I smiled sadly to myself. I slipped the strap past the buckle and the collar fell into my waiting hand. I lowered myself to his ears and whispered. "You don't deserve my collar, Daniel. You want it? Earn it!"

This clearly was not what Daniel expected because he looked up at me as I straightened. My expression changed to the crossbreed between a sad smile and a sneer. "Three strikes, Daniel. This is two." I reminded him as I held up two fingers in the hand with his collar. "Next time, you won't get a punishment."

I turned around and hang the collar in the dresser before returning to put the mask on.

"An hour, Daniel. This time, you get an hour. If you need to stop, buckle your knees." I said as I put the ear plugs in before placing the mask on. I checked the gag is at its rightful place, then nose and ears. All in place. I pulled the leather flaps together, tightened the strings, buckled in the straps and locked in the buckles.

I stepped away from Daniel and clapped my hand twice. No response. Good. Time. 5:52.

I went back to the reading chair and stared at Daniel.

How long has it been? A year since we got together and he already wants out. Shit! Did I give up something good when I left the vanilla world for this strange kinky, self-appointed enlightened community of kinksters? I rubbed my face in my hands. It is my nervous gesture. Yeah, I not only read his moods, I read my own too.

I remember when Daniel and I met. He is not the most handsome man I ever met, but he is the one that attracted me the most. I have seen all sorts of submissives with Frank. Belt & Buckles holds a certain reputation in this town and Frank trains a lot of people. Doms, Dommes, male and female submissives, slaves, Switches, anyone who is serious enough to turn BDSM into a lifestyle. Frank is good at weeding people out, too.

So when Frank told me that he has four submissives that are looking for a Domme like me. I took him on it and went out with Joe, Remy, Christian and Daniel. Daniel was the closest to my age, just a year older. I usually do not go for blondes, because by God, they are high maintenance.

Daniel, however, was sweet and safe at the time. He had a girlfriend. He wanted to be part of the lifestyle first before introducing her into it. I even met Valerie, I liked her until I was falling in love with Daniel. And Daniel left her for me. I rubbed my face again.

I opened my eyes to see Daniel standing in front of me. Legs still straight. I checked the clock. 5:59. Only seven minutes. Nothing to worry about, but still I kept my eyes on him. My eyes went to his mask. I cannot see him and I know he cannot see me.

Am I smothering him? He used to like having my attentions. When did that change?

Daniel and I are both highly possessive people, so it is no surprise that we showered each other with attention. He used to say I was the only thing that gets him through his days. I wonder what gets him through his days now?

I once told him that if he wanted to go, I would release him. I would let him go. Am I being selfish now by holding on? He did say he wants to leave. How serious should I take it? His work has been extraordinarily stressful for him in the past two weeks. Usually I would say it is an extremely bad idea to make decisions under extraordinary situations like stress, grief, anger or depression. But what if this is what he really wants?

To leave me.

I glanced at the clock. 6:05. So thirteen minutes in.

When I first devised this play, the heavier form of sensory deprivation. I would go spank Daniel after 15 minutes, 20 minutes and then another 25 minutes, right before it ends. The intervals are meant to keep him stimulated, his heart pumping, his brain racing and constantly wondering about when the next strike will come. The time spacing is deliberate to distort his perception of time, so that the time seems longer to him when in reality it really is longer. To stimulate his brain and screw his concept of time is one of the goals of this mental play.

Today, however, is not a play. He will have to just ride out the scene without my input this time. It should give him time to think about his inner demons as he so kindly asked.

I remember the first time he went through a sensory deprivation play. Thirty minutes was the time limit. Daniel did it, but it also screwed him over. He became deeply paranoid and went on days with little sleep until I finally brought in a doctor, who referred him to a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist and I discussed what we did to put him in such a mental state and thankfully, she understood it. She hypnotized Daniel and asked him about his issues before persuading him into forgetting the play.

Daniel had deep issues. I always knew he had issues and he has told me some of his issues but damn, he also held back deep, dark secrets from me. Issues that had I known before, I would never have tried this play on him. Knowing what I knew then, I expected his reactions to be either meditative or catatonic, but also therapeutic by the end. He went well and above my expectations, as usual.

I spent two months, drawing bits and bits out of Daniel and confronting him about individual issues. I do not know how Daniel did it, because it seemed every week the issue I bring up would set him off. We engaged in other plays, more sensuous plays that seem to sooth him and relieve him of the additional stress, but damn!

I admire him. I love him. Knowing what I know, I think he is a remarkably strong man who went through his own personal hell and clawed his way back up. He would say he survived. He always say he will survive, but I see more than a survivor. I see a champion.

Daniel did not and does not see what I see, which saddens me sometimes. He has this hero complex about taking things on his shoulder and not share. It also piss me off. I am His Domme. Protecting him is my job. Who is he to decide whether or not to burden me?

Yet, at the same time, am I not the same? When things become troublesome, I would rather solve my own problems than to burden Daniel with them. We get better and better at communicating our desires, wants, needs and dreams, but what about fears? Those deep-rooted skeletons in our closets? Things we never want to admit to anyone, especially those we care about the most.

I focused on Daniel's form. He is standing still but he is twitching now as the darkness finally creeps in. I looked at the clock. 6:16. Almost at that half an hour mark. He has improved. My pride.

Daniel is complex and complicated. He has deep-seated issues like abandonment. Valerie said some very fucked up things when they broke up. I mean I can understand her anger but seeing the effects they had on Daniel, I want to beat her bloody and that says something coming from someone who never would lay a hand on another woman.

She called him a fucked-up freak, a messed-up masochist, a high-maintenance egotistical bastard. Yeah, the girl has a real way with words. Above all, she told him that he would never be accepted and loved for the person he is. Daniel was already guilting over breaking up with her and she goes and say something like that.

My hands clenched around the arms of the chair as I took a deep breath in. Thanks to her, Daniel and I spent a long time fixing our emotional connection. What began like a magical bond turned into noodles.

Rebuilding took time but we got it back. Although to this day, I am not sure Daniel got over the things she said.

I looked at the clock again. 6:24. Daniel is definitely over the half mark now. I wonder what is he thinking about. The second time we tried this again, Daniel had gotten over a few issues. He wanted to try again to prove he can handle it and to prove that he has become stronger. He was not happy with how he reacted the first time. We 'negotiated' for days about whether or the play should ever be repeated, but he wore me down after a few days. Daniel rarely asks for anything, so when he does, I find it difficult to deny him.

The second time, he was bound without clothes with blindfolds, ear plugs, a gag, his collar, in a restrictive rope pattern that I called the prisoner's binds for forty-five minutes. Daniel started shaking in the last five minutes, but refused to give in and use the safe gesture until after I touched him to indicate that the play was over.

I remember the way his head fell upon my shoulder and the way his lips touched mine with a tremble. All of which drove home the point that he did it. I was so relieved that I started crying. Daniel literally went into a panic, not knowing what to do. I was always strong and I do not need a clutch, but something about the strength that Daniel demonstrated broke it for me inside. Here is a man who will not stop challenge and improve himself. His world may collapse, but he will find a way to stand tall and be proud. Damn!

My lips curved into a smile in remembrance of the two-days of aftercare after that play. I was the one getting the aftercare after that play. He may have went into sensory deprivation, but I went into sensory overload. All my concentrations went to Daniel, monitoring his every move, his every twitch, every movement of his throat, shoulders and legs, not stopping for a second while stricken with worry about whether or not he will make it. So when he did, I was the one that broke.

Daniel and I spent two days in bed, in each other's arms, having plain old vanilla sex. Don't get me wrong. I love kinky sex. I love having kinky sex with Daniel. It is precisely because we both love kinky sex that vanilla sex is more akin to lovemaking for us. It feeds our souls to leave the kinks, fetishes, plays and scenes out of our lovemaking. It also feeds our kinky sides to know that despite what physical pains and mental games we put each other through, at the end of day, we have love and we have each other. Vanilla adds depth to our relationship.

My smiled deepened as I focused my attentions on Daniel again. He has yet to make a move. I looked at the clock. 6:44. Just eight more minutes to go. He could do it.

For a second, I worry. What will he say when he comes out? How will he act when the play ends? Will he apologize for last night like he did before he went into the play? Or would he leave me? I don't care who says sensory deprivation is just a play for the submissive. It is not. It is a mental torture to be the Dom and wonder constantly how to act and how to react during the play in preparation for the aftermath of the play, whether complete or incomplete.

Expectations and past experiences mean shit in a mental play. No two play would be the same. Everything factors in. I cannot know how Daniel will react today, just like I could not know how he reacted the first time or second time. Usually I could read Daniel like a book when he is just Daniel. The longer time I spend with him, the less a mystery he becomes. In a vanilla relationship, I would be bored, knowing exactly what he would say and act if I act or behave a certain way.

Category: BDSM Stories