Bottoming to Lucivar

I don't really like pain, I told him.
I'm not a masochist, and it's hard for me to relax into submitting because I have to fight myself to 'behave'. It makes it hard to submit because I have to keep that level of control over myself and therefore can't give it to you.

He nodded. I'm used to subbing, he told me, and I learned my Topping style from her. And she likes to hurt me.

I know, I said. It's just harder for me.

Well, I'll try, he said, and then he tightened his hand in my hair.
I whimpered and slipped under immediately. I don't know why I slip under so easily with him. I am extremely picky about who I sub to, but he's had my buttons since that first Saturday morning in his bed.
I trust him.
I don't know exactly why, but I trust him more than I have nearly ever trusted someone so quickly.

He smiled when he saw the immediate slackness of my features, the way my body went pliant in his grip.
He just moved my head around for a few moments by my hair, emphasizing his ability to do so, emphasizing the control over me. I don't know how other people would respond to this, but I'm a horse trainer.
One of the central tenets of horse training is that where the horse's head goes, their body goes. Get their head pointed in the right direction, and you'll have the horse moving there eventually. So that simple action- dragging my head around by my short hair- has a profound effect on my state of mind.

I tumbled down the rabbit hole, and every muscle in my body went limp as I hung in his grip.

Please, I breathed.
Please what? I closed my eyes, I didn't know how to answer. I never do when I'm asked that. I don't know what it is that I'm begging for. Maybe, simply, more.

I think he understood, because when I opened my eyes again his had softened, just a little. Breathe in, he told me. I obeyed, and then his hand was over my mouth, blocking my nose. I felt a brief spurt of panic, as I do every time, then closed my eyes and relaxed into his hand. Relaxed into the knowledge that I would breathe when he let me, and something tight inside of me let go at that realization. Just as I started to need to breathe, as the first tightness settled into my chest, he took his hand away. But before I could suck in the air that my body craved, his fingers moved to my pinch my nose and his palm was replaced by his lips. When I opened my mouth to him, he breathed into me and I sucked him, and the air and life he represented greedily. I breathed him in, and his kiss gave me life.

Suddenly, the heaviness in my chest intensified painfully and I stared at him with wide eyes that I could feel filling with tears.
I saw through the kaleidescope effect of my tears as his face softened to something like tenderness.
He kissed my forehead, Let it out, baby. I started to shake my head, to protest, say, No, I don't do this in front of people! I can't cry... but the tenderness shining in his eyes was more than I could say no to, and the tears spilled over my cheeks in two hot trails.

I cried against him, sobbed and whimpered. This time, I was aware that my sobs were silent, even my one long scream was without noise. I knew why I was silent this time, knew that I didn't want to disturb anyone else, knew that on some level I was still afraid to be too noisy, too messy, too whatever for fear that he would push me away.
But he didn't. His hands were gentle around me while I cried, until eventually I looked up at him, my eyes red and puffy from the tears still drying on my cheeks, my skin mottled red from the sobs, and told him, I have no idea where that came from. But thank you, I told him.
I didn't know any way to express to him how incredibly much that meant to me.
How hard it is for me to trust someone enough to cry in front of them.
How deeply it makes me love him that he allowed me that safe space.
How incredibly grateful that I felt in that moment.

Maybe he did understand, because he kissed the top of my head. You're welcome, baby.