What Became of Me

Petra looked at me searchingly for a moment.

“I don't hear you saying “Pause”. It seems you want to stay a little longer.”

“Of course I do,” I thought to myself. My impulse to run away had vanished by then. At least for now. I was way too curious. And way too turned on. Oh well.

“As I said before, the next item on the agenda is the directives for communication,” Petra continued my briefing.

I must have furrowed my brow at that, because Petra’s eyes narrowed and she gave me a piercing look.

“So, I’m getting directives, not rules, not protocol.” The thought flashed through my mind. “Directives. Rules would define a scope of action. Directives allowed no such scope. But unlike orders, directives didn’t require immediate, mechanical execution. Directives shaped actions over a longer period of time.”

I tried to shake off those thoughts. At that moment, it struck me as a typical example of how I overanalyzed everything instead of just going with the flow.

“As I’ve already said, aside from the safe word, you will not speak a single human word in my presence. Dolls don’t speak. Toys don’t speak. More importantly, you don’t want to speak. You don’t even want to think. This directive is a liberation, not a restriction. When you speak – especially about your feelings – you don’t just think about expressing your feelings with the right words. You also think about what the “right” and “permitted” feelings are – the ones that satisfy your inner censor and your partner’s expectations. In my presence, that’s over.”

Going with the flow is not easy when you’re used to overthink everything. At least I had to acknowledge that Petra’s analysis was not wrong. But no talking at all?

“This directive also includes Julia and every other person you might encounter here or elsewhere in my presence. You will not speak in human ways to Julia while under my control, even if I’m not immediately around. Understood?”

I gave a slight nod, feeling a little unsure. Was nodding or shaking the head considered a form of human communication, and therefore inappropriate? But Petra had asked for confirmation. She obviously noticed my hesitation.

“You can nod or shake your head when I ask a yes-or-no question. A nod also confirms that you’ve acknowledged a directive or a command and you are proceeding to carry it out.”

I felt I turned into a nodding dog when I nodded again, but so far there was nothing I really had to object to.

“All right. Let’s move on. You won’t say a single word to anyone about me or anything that happens here or anywhere else in my presence. And that explicitly includes Julia, too. I don’t care what you talk about when you meet privately, as long as it has nothing to do with me. Everything here is about experiencing, feeling, sensing, and letting yourself go. Not about talking, thinking, dissecting, or analyzing.”

Petra let her words sink in for a few seconds. What she said felt both right and wrong at the same time. Yes, I tended to overthink things and talked them to death. But not talking at all? To no one? That seemed to me to be a dangerous form of isolation in a relationship.

“However, if you ever feel you need to talk with somebody about what’s happening here and between us for your mental health – a counselor or a friend – I encourage you to do so, but only after you’ve asked for my permission. I think I should know about it first if anything regarding our arrangement is troubling you. That’s sensible, right?”

The nodding dog nodded again.

“Which brings me to the point of how we will communicate. You will write a report about every encounter we have, and you will include any subject matters that you feel need to be discussed. The report should be brief and raw, not polished, not heavily edited. Just a summary of what happened, how you felt, if you have any concerns. We’ll clear up any outstanding issues via email or messaging before we meet next time.”

The nodding dog did what nodding dogs do. It was only weird that the nodding dog was naked and was getting more and more aroused with every nod. Despite some reservations I was nodding my agreement to a framing of a relationship that my wet pussy clearly enjoyed.

“One last thing, and then we're done with this topic. What is expressly permitted: any inarticulate expression of emotion and bodily distress. The toy can scream, whimper, sigh, moan, sob, groan, growl, yelp. In fact, all of that is encouraged. For me, there’s nothing more thrilling than wringing sounds of suffering and agony from my toys. I often leave them in another room and just listen to those sounds for hours. That’s the most beautiful music to my ears. None of this has any purpose unless you’re willing to endure suffering for me. Severe suffering. Prolonged suffering. Pain that’s hard to bear. Are you ready for that?”

This time, the nodding dog had a big lump stuck in his throat, but it still did what a nodding dog does. Well, it did what a severely masochistic and horny nodding dog does.