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The online diary of an ethical pervert.

Saturday, 18 July 2009

Empty vessels

He's fucking me on my side, pushed my back to right angles with the rest of my body so I'm in an L shape. There's very little physical contact, just his cock inside me. He's barely touching me, just the odd hand movement as he reaches to part my labia for easier access, or the briefest touch of an arm or a leg as he shifts position. He's fucking me as if attempting to put the minimum amount of his skin onto my skin.There's a wet, slightly-sore, tension in my cunt as he uses me, muscles are tight with my legs so close together and it feels like he's pressing quite hard as he pushes himself inside me. But nothing else. The rest of my body is untouched, pristine. No marks, no collar, no rope. None of the trappings of play or the signs of ownership. I am not held in place, or held in his arms, not whispered to so I can thrill in being told how much I am his. There is very little sound at all, just the noise of flesh on flesh.

Every now and then he stops. Just lies there, still inside me, I'm not sure what he's waiting for, maybe he's bored of me?That makes me anxious. I don't want to say anything, expecting that my waiting and my silence are part of the arrangement, that I am without words, without authorship and just here.
There are no words, nothing is articulated and that makes it incredibly hard for me to understand what is happening, the space we are in has not been contextualised, we are at the bare bones - I am here to be used by him. There is nothing else. I continue to wait. I don't know what else to do, a part of me would like to make a little noise, see if it might attract his attention, even if that means getting a beating, especially if that means getting a beating. But I know that would be bratty and I know that most likely it would be ignored. Or he'd just roll over and go to sleep. At least here there is some connection, even if it's reduced down to his cock, still but very hard, inside me. Like a physical reminder of what I am for.

This is what use feels like. No bells or whistles, no preamble, just a body being taken in the night.
I feel very strange and disconnected. I'm quite lonely in this place, without his touches or his voice. I am not drifting away pleasantly, in the way I might if I was tied up or blindfolded, I am just emptied, passive, neither excited nor uncomfortable. Just there. I feel very absent, as if there isn't really a "me" to connect to him, because my thoughts, my feelings are a moot point, an irrelevance, what matters is my cunt is warm and wet and my legs can be moved easily this way and that for his convenience. I'm not his "girl" or his "slut" or his "slave". I'm barely even his "thing". Just his.

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