When you settle into a routine, feel comfortable in your relationship…it always happens. He found a way to shake me, to have me sitting here nervous and questioning myself.
I suppose I should have known it was coming, but it’s been months since he brought up the subject of an extended-use butt plug. I regularly update a tumblr erotic blog for him and he comments on the ones with the pretty jeweled butt plugs but he hasn’t mentioned the idea of me wearing one in…well…a long time.
But it’s Valentine’s Day. Where most girls and wives get pretty flowers or candy or jewelry or maybe lingerie, I’m getting, apparently, a steel butt plug. Cue butterflies. Lots of them. I’m pretty sure in fact, that those butterflies are actually in a desperate battle from the way my tummy is quivering right now.
And he’s needling me about it too. It’s not here yet so he’s exaggerating the size, and talking about the safety precautions he researched. Telling me how when I wear it, I’ll never forget I’m his.
I so love/hate any anal activity at all. It terrifies me that regular anal is changing my body, that my body is different and it’s no longer a fight to get inside me when he wants to fuck my ass. I look at blogs with girls gaping after anal – which he likes, very much – and I look at pictures of girls you can tell have often played with large anal toys. It scares me that visually I might be different, even if physically I feel the same – I don’t feel looser, but I know there’s a change. My body accommodates him in ways it never did without a lot of patient foreplay before. On my own, I would never explore anal or any type of backdoor sexual activity (rimming, fisting, fucking – any of it) but it’s such a turn on for him that even as I hate it, even as part of me is horrified at being touched there or of licking him, it still turns me on.
And this…this is another level. If he goes as far as he’s talking about, even in the parts of my life where I feel normal, whatever that means, he will always be there. There’s no way to escape that. And that’s scary. I feel like…this is another level to take from me. To give to him. Sometimes I feel like a person and sometimes…I feel like his. I feel like we’re about to push the scales further towards him. And as much as part of me wants that part of me fights that. I have felt, if not exactly comfortable, happy with submission….and I suppose that means I have much, much further to go. The question is…how far does he want me to go?
