What I need

I didn't know I needed to play extra hard tonight. I didn't know I needed to cry, to sob, to absorb pain willingly and want more. I had no idea.

But it doesn't matter. He knew.

I don't know how he does it. How he reads me so thoroughly. Even from the start, with the OTK warmup. As he ramped up the intensity, I squirmed, but my mind was screaming, "Harder, oh please, harder!" I almost blurted that out, but I didn't want to top from the bottom. Not tonight. So I arched upward to meet his hand.

And then, as if he'd read my mind, he ramped it up even more. "Yes," I whispered, "yes, yes!" That may sound strange. But it wasn't a porn-star, fake-orgasm "yes." It was real. It was pure delight in what my body was experiencing.

I didn't feel like sassing, protesting or goading. All I wanted was to feel. To take whatever he wanted to give.

Once I was positioned over the ottoman, the strap, belt and paddle burned fiercely. One strike made me pull back sharply, crouch down onto my heels, gasping from the pain. He gave me a moment to recover. Then, a split second before I knew I was ready to reassume the position, he calmly said, "Get back up there." I did.

"You need this, don't you," he said, bringing the belt down. "Don't you!"

"Yes," I cried. "Yes!" Tears came. Didn't matter. They felt cleansing. I buried my face in the pillow and hunkered down for the duration.

He'd pause, gently touch and tease me with the implements, caress me with his hand. But I knew more was coming. I waited.

When it happened, my brain screamed, "I can't, I can't!" But then, almost as if it were another person outside of me, I practically heard, "You can. Take it. TAKE IT. You want it. You need it. He knows." And I did.

After a particularly long flurry, I was panting, sobbing, feeling like I was on fire. He paused. In my hazy, spacy state, the only thought that came to me was, "Oh... he's not done, is he? I need more. Just a little more. Finish me. Finish me, please."

And then he said, "I don't think we're quite done here, are we?"

How did he know? I shook my head vigorously. "No."

Not much more. Just ten. Then it was lotion and soothing, while I wept for a long time. I didn't want to stop. They were good tears. I trusted him with all my heart and let him watch me be vulnerable. He broke me down and then put me back together. New and improved. Blissful.

"How do you do that," I murmured. "How do you know when I need more?"

"How do you take more?" he asked. I don't know. I just do. I guess he just knows, too. Knows me.

I don't always want it to be that ferociously intense. But when I do, he knows.

I am so, so lucky.