How do I salvage this situation, what is the solution to this heavy burden I'm carrying? I had to decide between Sean's offer of taking a stand or just letting life play things out, honestly i'm confused. He wants us to have both freedom and also wants to be sure it's just him alone but it doesn't feel right.
It's like saying our marriage doesn't matter, but it does. I despise this situation, hate what they've done to me by giving me love, resulting in three broken hearts and a messed-up situation. I wonder how this can ever be fixed. Walking away from one feels like killing the other, and it's a painful choice I have to make, even though I don't want to.
Tears start falling, and crying seems to be all I do. Whenever I find happiness, something comes along to destroy it. I resent them both for causing this, yet I can't help but love them. The whole situation is messed up, and right now, I can't see a way out.
The door opens, but I don't want to look up. I can't bear to see Sean's pain, his hurt, his anger. He's my Master, my husband, but at this moment, I'm unsure if any of that still holds true.
How did I get here? Sean and I were doing well, despite our fair share of issues. I love being his submissive. Then, he introduced Steve, a friend, into our lives. Steve is truly amazing, but the problem is he fell in love with me, and unknowingly, I fell for him too. Yesterday marked the breaking point, where everything came together and fell apart at the same time.
I pushed Steve away when he kissed me, not wanting to hurt Sean. But when Sean told me that Steve was leaving and moving out, I felt heartbroken. Sean left us to say goodbye, and the thought of never seeing Steve again hurt so much. We couldn't stop ourselves, sleeping together for the first time without Sean's permission, and I officially cheated.
I thought Sean would hate me, but he doesn't. He blames himself for bringing Steve into the situation. What am I going to do about this whole thing? I have the option of having them both, staying married to Sean, still being his submissive, with Steve involved as much as I want him to be. But that doesn't feel right to me. I don't want Steve to leave either.
Sean is still standing at the door, waiting for me to respond. Reluctantly raising my head, I look at him. My heart shatters seeing his pain and hurt. I feel like I've done something evil. How can I do this to him?
"Come on babes, let's talk"
Looking at him I can't, I physically can't there is too much there, I feel like I am drowning in thoughts, memories, and everything else, their pain, my heartbreak, everything.
I can't ask him to take me to the playroom, we have the girls, so I can't drink, how do people deal with this daily?
How do they manage to get through the pain and find an escape to those thoughts? With Kyle, I just locked myself away for months and months till they left me alone, I can't do that now, I am a mum, yet there is no other way either.
"I can't, I just can't Sean" My head drops, his body walking towards me, how can he still be so nice to me?
"Okay, we don't talk, I want to punish you for sleeping with Steve, for fucking him without me saying, maybe after that, you can talk. Go get ready"
Looking up at him, I am not sure what to do, does he mean it? I have no issues with him punishing me, I just don't want him doing this to help me rather than it be a punishment.
" Move it now, I will be in the room in three minutes"
He walked away, and as I stared at the vacant space where he stood, I couldn't bring myself to refuse. The entire experience would serve multiple purposes—it would lead me to my subspace, offering a few precious minutes of respite from my overwhelming thoughts. Simultaneously, it would act as a necessary punishment, a step he deemed essential for us to move forward.
Stepping off the bed, and making my way slowly to the playroom, Steve emerged from his room. Pausing for a moment, I looked at him, witnessing the pain etched on his face. I felt a sense of reluctance, making it difficult to utter any words. It just felt wrong. Walking past him, I reached the playroom, opened the door, and glanced back. He was still standing there, gazing at me.
Turning my head, I entered the room and proceeded to undress. Once completely naked, I retrieved the blindfold and knelt on the floor, anticipating the punishment I believed I deserved. He disliked punishing me; he rarely did it, given his aversion to the act. The creaking of the door signaled his arrival, and his hands clasped mine, lifting me and guiding me across the room.
My hands were secured with furry metal cuffs, raised above my head by his firm grip. "I am going to give you six whips; you will count with me. I won't hold back, so be prepared to use the safe word," he declared. A slight snicker escaped my lips; he always claimed not to hold back, yet he invariably did. I had never experienced his whips intensely.
"As you wish, Daddy," I replied, standing and waiting. The sound of the whip being wielded in the air reached my ears. The initial sting was sharp, prompting me to jump on my toes while biting my lip in an attempt to stifle any screams.
"Count," his low growl reminded me that I had forgotten to do so.
"One," I said, waiting for the next strike. The sound of the whip cutting through the air made my body tense, preparing for the ensuing sting. Screams escaped my lips as the pain intensified.
"Two," he announced. It was evident he wasn't holding back, and for the first time, I understood why he refrained from hitting me at intensely.