I’ve been given a reprieve from my debauchery — for the morning at least, as I’ve been granted time to myself and promised a casual time with Amanda at the cafe for brunch. So already this Saturday a.m. I’ve taken a leisurely bath, and I spent good time washing and pampering my hair, which had gotten to be a god-awful stringy mess. So I feel a little more settled this morning than I was last night when I posted. I don’t regret writing what I did in “wanton” https://slaveshae.wordpress.com/2019/07/27/wanton/, but it was more desperate and less thoughtful than I normally like to be. Still, it was what it was.
Today on the other side of sleep and shampoo I have a profound feeling of being used. And I don’t mean that in a negative way. Like so many feelings of the submissive experience, there is good in the bad feeling, thrill in the objectification, fulfillment in the humiliation. I have these past days and nights been used by Master K as a container for his (ridiculous!) libido, a holster for his cock and a champagne flute for his cum. He has deposited himself in me. Mistress too, her fingers occupying me, filling me.
The temptation, when people talk about us submissives, is the shorthand that “you subs enjoy being objectified, you love being used.” It’s not so simple. I experienced the shame of being used as a container all week. I felt the thorns of humiliation in being serially used for sex since Monday. Those are hard, difficult, painful feelings, as they would be to anyone else. The fact I am a sub-slave doesn’t simply turn them into pleasures.
But, yes, those things are also deeply pleasurable in this strange chemistry of submission. Being Master K’s “container” also means I am filled by him. Being used means I am useful to him. Being taken means I am wanted by him. All of it gives purpose to my slavery.
So the experience of being used is not just some masochistic joy in the objectifying experience. It is both the hurt and the good at the same time. It is accepting and enduring the hurt in the process of enjoying the good that accompanies it.
So as I sit this morning writing this, my body aches from being sexually used this week to a degree and frequency I haven’t quite experienced before. It has been relentlessly objectifying. I feel all that and yet I feel a satisfaction that I have been a good slave to Master and Mistress, being fully to them what they expect a slave to be sometimes.
I have fulfilled that and, container that I am, been filled by that.