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"I'm sorry," he murmured with his lips against my hair.
Sorry?
For the orgasm of a lifetime?
For giving me a new experience I couldn't have possibly known I would be into if he hadn't shown it to me.
I wanted to say these things, but found the act of speech just slightly out of reach.
"I'm such a fuck," he added.
The rough, tortured sound to his voice seemed to be what I needed to force the words from somewhere deep.
"No, you're not," I objected, my arms sliding around his back, holding on as well as I could with their jelly-sensation.
"If you saw your back right now, you wouldn't be saying that. I didn't even fucking realize how red you were getting."
"I might not be able to see my back, but I can feel it," I assured him. "And it's fine, Eli. I'm fine. I could have stopped you if I wanted."
"You feel fine because of the endorphins from the pain and the orgasms, sweetheart. In an hour, you're gonna fucking hate me."
"I'm not going to hate you."
"I don't do shit like this."
"Shit like what?"
"This BDSM crap."
He was pretty good at it for an amateur. But, then again, all you had to do was watch a bit of professional BDSM porn to know how to use all the toys properly.
"I don't like hurting women," he added at my silence.
"But it's not really hurting them. It's different."
"You have red marks over your back, ass, and thighs that I put there, Autumn."
"Yeah, but it wasn't--" How did you describe it? "It wasn't a bad pain." He said nothing, but his body was still tense, still - I imagined - full of self-loathing, which was unfairly placed. "It was cathartic for both of us, Eli," I assured him.
"How?" he asked, fingers sifting through my hair gently, so softly that I was sure he was worried about getting his finger caught in a tangle and hurting me even slightly more.
"You got to get rid of that anger." And it was gone. Every inch of him was less rigid. The air around him didn't seem to be vibrating. His speech was softer because his jaw wasn't so clenched.
"And you?"
"I got to let go."
"Of what?"
"Of... everything." It was hard to explain, especially because I didn't exactly know how it worked either. I had heard subs at conferences talking about how being tied down, having your power taken away from you, was freeing. Mostly, these women were the types who were powerful in their daily lives, who micro-managed and had iron-fisted control over every aspect of their daily routine. So giving that up to someone, having all your control taken away, it was a release like nothing else they had known before.
And while I wasn't exactly a control freak, I did have to take care of everything in my life and work. I didn't have someone else to put it off on. I was in charge of everything. So not to be in charge, even just for a couple minutes, to just have to submit and take, it was therapeutic in a way I didn't fully understand, but was thankful for.
Even just sitting there in his arms, I felt more relaxed than I had in years. Or maybe ever.
If perhaps I was a bit sore for a couple days, I somehow thought the reward was worth it. Kind of like how your legs and ass hurt so much after the gym, but getting a little more muscle tone was well worth the pain.
Flogging as anxiety relief.
Who'd have thunk it?
"Eli," I said softly into his neck when he made no response, just kept stroking my hair.
"Yeah?"
"I would have stopped it if I wanted to stop it. I'm not afraid to speak my mind about sex. I own a sex store," I reminded him. "So you feeling guilt right now for something I don't regret makes no sense."
"See if you feel that way tomorrow, and maybe I won't feel so shitty about it."
Of course he was going to be difficult.
I guess it made sense.
He went to jail for six years for doing something that was right, got punished even though he had been defending a helpless woman. He had guilt about that. He felt like a monster who couldn't be trusted around his own family over that.
So, of course, he was going to make himself feel shitty about this as well.
"Okay. So when I get in touch with you tomorrow and don't hate you or regret this - spoiler alert, I won't - then you will let this go? No more regret or shame or guilt?"
There was a long pause. "If you can come to me tomorrow, sore, and tired because you can't find a comfortable way to sleep, and even then can still tell me that you enjoyed it and would do it again, then, yeah, okay. I will let it go."
