my bitch

“I think you’ll do,” my spouse said, inspecting me as I stood with my hands tied behind my back.  “Yes, I accept you as my bitch.”

We were at a vacation rental, doing some kink.  It got loud, so I’m glad we had noise privacy.

That morning I had a vivid fantasy about being chosen as bitch by a friend.  The fantasy had an intense erotic and emotional charge, something 9/10 hot for me, so I asked my spouse to enact it.

“Not that I want to pretend you’re the other person,” I clarified.  “I’d like you to do it as yourself.”

setting the scene

He agreed that sounded hot.  I told him in detail about the fantasy.

“I want to evaluate your cunt,” he said.

In the original fantasy, the evaluation part was just from my waist up.

“Well, you can do that too,” I said.  “But maybe let me lie down for that part.  The standing up with intense lust might be hard to maintain.”

He tied my wrists behind me in a sustainable way.  I stood vulnerable in my underwear with my hands behind my back, and my tits sticking out.  I’d asked my spouse to touch my naked body and look at me to see if I was good enough.  I wanted him to note my reactions, as he touched my lower back, my shoulders and neck, my tummy, my sensitive breasts.

Yes, he did all that.  I gasped, quivered, and went non-verbal.  Sometimes he asked me a question, and I’d pull myself out of subspace to answer.  It was hard to find my speaking-self and move my speaking-self to the front.  But I appreciate him making me talk sometimes, so he can make sure I’m ok.


He approved of me.  I was murmuring with pleasure, to be chosen by him, though of course he chooses me every day.  It’s never that clear and intentional.  What a gift.

He collared me.  The feel of that material and slight pressure around my neck makes me feel like I’m safe and home.

He took off my underwear, unbound my wrists, and made me lie naked on the bed.  Then he did inspect my cunt.

“Spread your legs,” he said.

He looked at its shapes, pat its mound, opened its folds.  Yes, he found it worthy.  My clit was perked up, and he shoved his fingers in my hole.

“Sit on the edge of the bed,” he told me.


He fucked me in a slamming, shoving, harsh way, and I looked into his eyes.  One of my requests was that he tell me to look at him while he fucked me.  Eye contact is a big deal.

Then he turned me over and hit me, which I had asked for too.  I like how he hits me medium-hard.  It was enough to awaken part of me, without me getting high and out of my mind.  He hit me for only a minute.

Then he wanted his dick sucked.  He fingered my cunt and knelt on the bed so his dick was in my face.  I slurped at the head of his dick, then took it all.  He helped me, shoving his dick down my throat.  He is so beautiful.

Then he fucked me some more.  I was overly-aroused and desperate to cum, but not there yet.  He was on top of me, and I felt used in the best ways.

“Can I cum in you?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” I said.

Usually I don’t want him to ejaculate in me around ovulation, but I am PMS right now.

He delivered his load to my cervix.  I growled and grabbed at him as he came.  I felt loved and wanted, body and soul.

my bitch

He wanted me to cum too, and he shoved his fingers into my hole as I rubbed my clit.  I arranged pillows to support my body.   The scene was long, and I was in more pain than usual.

“When I’m coming, can you tell me that I’m your bitch?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

I had also asked him to climb onto me when I was coming, lie on me, and put his full weight onto me.  I rubbed and rubbed myself.  He looked at my clit bulge when his fingers pushed farthest into me.

I had been aroused for a long time, and it was hard to finally cum.  My right hip started cramping.  My back was crampy also.  It was amazing that my spouse was very awake for so long, completely with me, helping me get there.

Some of my favorite fantasies of transgression started passing through my mind, as I tried to climax.  I whimpered and prepared myself emotionally.

Then finally, I did come–I cried out, cough-barked, my back arched, and I flailed around.  He watched me with his fingers deep in my hole.

“You’re my bitch,” he said.  The words have power over me.


As my orgasm diminished, the pain was intense, flooding my body.  Wow–my neck, shoulders, arms, hips, and ankles were burning.  The pain overwhelmed me, and my orgasm sound turned to howls of pain.  I was crying, anguished at all I had been through in that scene.

The deep joy of being chosen was meaningful–so healing–when lately I feel criticized and unchosen by other circumstances in my life.  That contrast is harsh.  My spouse’s true love vs what other people give to me.

I cried for my emotional release, and because of the physical pain I was in.  It was so much pain, I was scared.  But in only ten minutes, the pain diminished to normal as I relaxed in bed.

My spouse held me, and we calmed down together.

“Is there blood?” I asked.

He looked at his hand and my vulva.

“No,” he said.

I didn’t think there would be menstrual fluid, but I knew I might be torn from how hard he was ramming his fingers into me.

We had gone through a whole thing.  He played his role perfectly.  I got what I needed.


I’m glad it’s the next day, and I’m not too sub dropped.  It was almost all power play with only a little pain play.

I’ve felt extra close and happy with my spouse, like I fell in love with him again yesterday.  That sustained, sacred attention is good magic.  His creativity impresses me, and his kindness to care as much as I do, about what’s good for me.

Life is full of fantasies and enacting them.  Unless it’s habit, every plan I make starts as a fantasy that I revise and shape into something possible.  Then I get buy in from my spouse or whoever the plan involves, we decide if it’s even a good idea, and we try it.

Life is made of this experimentation.  A trip to another town, a scene such as this, an elaborate meal, a name change, a move.

Grateful to want things and  have the skills to try to get them, including the bravery to ask.  Grateful I have the executive function, enough money to stay housed, my priorities set to Love.  My values and worth are clear.

I’m glad I love myself enough to hand over my power in a scene and know that’s play.  Grateful my spouse is on the same page as me, and our equality in regular life is unshakable.

By Nest

Curious, disabled Earth Goddess, telling the truth.

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