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… describing to him how much i feel like a slave, how much it feels good to be handing over all control over my body and my sexual use, to him. trying to put it into words. how “no” is leaving my vocabulary. it’s no longer a choice about should i have sex tonight. do i want to. what kind of sex. it’s just a knowledge that i may be used by my master, that my holes are his to use and fill and stretch. (tonight talking about butt plugs he told me he prefers the short wide ones for me, because then he knows i’m being stretched and hurting more, and the more he is hurting me, the better it is)

it’s a knowledge i’ve fought against for so long. i feel like this is a long time coming. being able to say no has been useful in my life, but now it is stopping me discover what is true peace. admitting i am a slut, such a slut, a whore, the words have such power over me but i don’t feel humiliated by it, i feel like i am admitting finally that i am this low and filthy, this greedy and sexual. i can’t put it into words. it’s the realisation that i am in my right place, that being raped whenever he wants me is true release.

i tried to put it into words. i think he understood, because when we said good night to each other, he pulled me to him for the usual bedtime hug before he gets up and i fall asleep … he pulled me to him, gripped my throat with one hand, and guided his cock into my (of course sopping wet) cunt, ramming into me over and over again, repeating over and over that this is what a slut gets, and that i am his slut.

i feel such release, such peace, i can finally relax into my role in our marriage as the whore who isn’t allowed to stop her husband fucking her. the marriage contract has taken on new meaning. i truly am his, and this is my true role as his wife. i am his slave, and i am owned. no turning back. no saying “no”

… today i realised as we sniped at each other over the housework, that i still wouldn’t refuse him in bed tonight. i would take his cock without complaint, even as i held a grudge. i wouldn’t think to say no. because my role, above all, is to be the whore who’s sold to him for life.

… i’m trying to think if i can ask him to call me ‘cunt’ in the bedroom. to be reduced to just that hole. if i can ask this without blushing.