Message to my Former Sub

Message to my Former Sub

Naschmi

Dear Ellie,

I hope you are doing alright, and this letter finds you well...

I’m sorry. I’m really bad at this. But there are a couple of things that I need to tell you. I hope you will read this, and I hope you are not mad anymore.

Sorry that I haven’t been in touch all this time. I really didn’t want you to worry about me. And I didn’t want you to see me like this. Weak and beaten. You know, I always wanted to be strong for you. And you writing me or even visiting me here was totally out of the question.

That’s what they are good at here. Stripping people of their pride and dignity and everything. That’s all they can do in this shithole.

But this letter is not about me in prison.

I’ve been thinking a lot about you lately.

About us, really. I mean, we clicked. We really did.

You can’t argue with that.

I’m doing better now, and for the first time I in a while I am looking ahead. And that’s why I am writing you. Because there is no one I have been thinking more about than you.

We were such a great team.

Remember when we met? Remember that? You have to admit, it was... well, something... maybe not love, at first sight.

We were both invited to a party. It was a dumb party for rich people. I didn’t belong there. I didn’t want to be there. But I had to go, I forgot why. It doesn’t matter.

Maggie introduced us because you and I we were both lesbians.

“The only ones, as far as I know!” she said.

And she mentioned something like we’d be the perfect match. Not because we’re both into women. But because I had a reputation of being a little bossy. And you were so tiny and meek! You were adorable. That was the first thing I loved about you. But obviously you are so much more.

So much more extreme than I could possibly ever be.

At the beginning I thought you were just very polite and, like, had good manners. We had just met and did some chitchat and already you were always asking for my approval. As if I was your mother or your guardian or something. I mean, you said things like:

“I’m kind of thirsty. Is it okay if I get something to drink?”

I didn’t know you at all, but apparently, you’d been told about me. So you were already playing your little games because I had this reputation of being a bitch.

To be honest, I was still a little annoyed, thinking why the fuck you needed my approval for your miserable decisions. I thought you were insecure or something. But you weren’t. You knew what you wanted. You were totally ahead of me.

And then I got curious what would happen if I denied you. If I gave you some push-back. Cause you were pretty cute.

Remember that? When you asked me: “Is it okay, if I get a Coke?”

And I said: “No.”

Suddenly I had your full attention. You looked at me with those sexy eyes of yours. You were surprised, but you were also full of anticipation. Your eyes were sparkling.

“Bring us one Coke and one water!”

I didn’t say please or thank you.

You nodded and left.

When you returned, I had you put down the two glasses.

“You decide. One of us will have a delicious Coca Cola and one of us a plain, flat glass of water with no taste whatsoever. Who will get which drink?”

You weren’t sure if I was just messing with you.

“Would you like the Coke? You can have it! I can get myself another one. Nobody has to drink water.”

“That is not an option.”

“It isn’t?”

I shook my head no.

“Then you can have the Coke. Please, take it!”

“Are you sure? I mean you asked for the Coke, and I didn’t really say what I want to drink.”

You were unsure what to say. You were so nervous!

“If it makes you happy, you can have the Coke.”

“If it makes me happy... Do you like to please people?”

“Erm... yes?”

“That’s so nice!” I was clearly mocking you like the villain in some Tarantino movie. You know, like Jules in Pulp Fiction. “People are so selfish these days. They only think about themselves. But you are thinking about others! That’s so unique!”

“Thank you,” you whispered not sure what to make of all of this.

“I mean you must really want this delicious Coke. It’s sweet, it’s sparkling, it has this rich, dark flavor!”

I handed you the water and took the Coke. I took a little sip, just a tiny one, and then I threw the glass into the bushes. You should have seen your eyes. You weren’t annoyed, you weren’t angry. You knew that I had figured you out. I saw it in your eyes. In the back, where all the dark desires live.

“Sorry, I guess I changed my mind about the Coke.”

“Would you like my water instead?”

“That is so nice of you. But then you don’t have anything to drink.”

“That’s all right.”

“No, I couldn’t take your water!”

“Please! Take it!”

“I like how you say please.”

I took your glass and put it on the table. Didn’t drink from it, though. I liked what was going on.

“What beverage is your least favorite?” Remember when I asked you?

“I guess beer.”

“Get us two! It’s an acquired taste, I know. But you’ll get it, trust me!”

“Of course.”

Before you left, I reached over and patted your head, and then with the back of my hand I stroked your cheek. Like you would do with a child.

I don’t like to touch random people. But I wanted to touch you!

“Now off you go!”

When you turned around, I put my hand on the small of your back and gently pushed you away.

I was considering slapping your ass. But I wasn’t sure how far I could take this. I mean, we had just met. But I liked your ass, so small and cute.

I needed that moment to think. That’s why I sent you away. You were so hot! And I wanted you so bad. I had never met anyone like you.

So submissive.

You returned with two beers that looked really large in your hands.

“To good manners and to pleasing others. It’s so important that people give others what they want!” I toasted.

We both emptied our glasses. I could tell that you didn’t like the beer, but you liked that I made you drink it.

I had you bring us more and we finished those as well.

A little later you asked:

“Would you excuse me, please, I really need to go to the bathroom.”

Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. Not that easily at least!

“I kind of like it here, we are having so much fun! Just stay a little longer!”

“Okay. But I really need to go!”

Your eyes said something else though. Your eyes were literally begging me to deny you that request.

“I mean, you are free to go. But I am not sure whether I will still be here when you come back.”

“I wouldn’t want that.”

“Right? We are getting along so well!”

I remember that the alcohol had made me a little bolder.

I was coming closer to you, leaning over you: I remember that I felt like a mama bear towering over her prey.

You had to raise your head, expose your neck to look up.

By that time my hands were already on your hips.

You wore that flimsy dress, and I was playing with it, lifting it up to expose your thighs. I remember that you were trying to hide behind my body. It was shielding you from the rest of the party and anyone looking our way.

I was really horny, and you let it happen. You wanted it to happen. The way your body moved, the way you opened yourself to me.

So I bent down and kissed your neck. I was pretty nervous whether you’d let me. But you did.

I wanted to make you forget about your bursting bladder. At least for a while.

You did. I can still hear your tiny moans and how you lowered your head because you wanted me to kiss you on the mouth.

I thought that was so hot!

And so I did.

But your bladder was also always on my mind, and while I kissed you, I gently pushed my hands against your stomach.

And it worked. I felt you were getting restless. Shifting your foot from one foot to the other.

You broke away from our kiss and begged:

“I really need to go! Really. I’ll piss my pants. Please allow me to go!”

On the one hand, I didn’t want our kiss to end, on the other I didn’t want you to piss yourself and me.

“Piss yourself? Language, little Lady!”

“I’m so sorry. I apologize. I just don’t want to wet myself.

“What do I get, if I let you go?”

“What? What do you want?” You were irritated, you clearly didn’t want to bargain with me. And I understood that I couldn’t push this too far.

I honestly didn’t know what I could ask of you. And so I just said:

“I want a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

“I don’t know. I’ll think of something.”

“Yes, I will grant you a favor. But can I please, please, please go now!”

“Sure! I’ll come along!”

You were surprised, a little uncomfortable.

The restroom was empty. You quickly disappeared into a stall, closed the door.

I heard you pull down your panties and then a loud continued splash of your urine.

“Wow, somebody is letting it all out!” I said mockingly.

Immediately you tried to hold it back and the sound died down to a trickle.

“I’m so sorry! This is so embarrassing!”

“You should be embarrassed!” I said. But really you wanted this.

Remember that?

Back then I thought you were a little crazy.

We left the party pretty soon.

We were the most exciting people there.

You got in my car, and we drove into the night.

We did a lot of talking, and you were pretty open about your desires and kinks.

I remember saying that you were a masochist, and I misunderstood and thought you’d do massacres.

I didn’t understand this all. I was raised to be tough and strong, and you wanted to expose yourself and give yourself to others.

Back then I didn’t understand how much you trusted me. How much you risked, opening up to me. You saw something in me that I didn’t. You thought I was worthy of your trust. Okay, you knew about me, but you can’t have known that much.

Here in prison nobody trusts anyone, and I trust no one. You can never tell what games people play around here. I wouldn’t even trust myself.

Remember that we stopped at a diner later that night. It was pretty full, a lot of truckers. Not the best place for a date.

They were looking at us. I mean, you were looking so hot and pale and precious. You didn’t fit in this place. I did. I looked like a butch.

We got ourselves a stall right in the center, you actually chose it. Remember that. I would have gone for some place in the corner. And everyone looked at us. All these dirty men. You could tell that all their conversations died down. Nothing anyone in this place could have been as interesting as watching us... well, you... really.

You held my hand and leaned over to me and whispered:

“Please, don’t sell me to these men!”

And I went: “Don’t worry, Baby. I wouldn’t do that.”

But you insisted: “Please don’t do it! I will do whatever you want!”

So you wanted to play it like that.

I looked around and found the greasiest old guy. I pointed to him and said: “I bet that guy over there would appreciate you.”

“Please don’t!”

We fooled around a little. I threatened to auction you off to the highest bidder and you pleaded not to do it.

I must admit, I didn’t like that game very much, but you did. I thought it was a little fucked up. I really liked you. I mean I really did. And you had all these weird fantasies.

When we left, on the parking lot, there was this guy.

“Is he following us?” you asked.

I turned around and yelled at him:

“Where are you going? That’s right. Keep walking!”

I’m pretty sure he wasn’t following us, but you wanted me to defend you. And I would have kicked that guy’s ass for you.

When we got to my car, you gently pushed me on the hood, opened my jeans and got down on me.

I had never before gotten my pussy licked in a parking lot.

It was so amazing feeling you down there between my legs, looking up at me all small and grateful that I had saved you from the evil diner.

That was our first date.

Crazy.

We had some great times together. You can’t deny that. I mean I was there for you, and you were there for me. We were there for each other. And we did some crazy things.

Remember your 25th birthday?

I asked you what you wanted. You said you wanted to go on a vacation. Just for the weekend.

“Just a vacation? Nothing more?” I asked.

“Nothing more. Well, I’ll try to be nice to you.”

That was your code for: I want to be dominated by you. Remember that?

You’d already found a little cabin on a lake, really secluded, couple of hours away.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll go there!” I said. “What do I have to do?”

You had already made a list for me.

Do you still like writing all those lists? I really appreciated your list. Your kinks were always so much crazier than my imagination.

I mean some of the shit you made me do to you really scared me.

So I read your list. It was really long. Way too long. We would have needed months to tick off everything that was on there.

And some of it was outright insane.

For example you wanted me to throw you in the trunk and drive you all the way locked up in the trunk? And you specifically requested no pee breaks. And you wanted to be naked. I mean, that’s just insane!

Just imagine if we’d been stopped by a cop and he found you naked, locked in a trunk.

I would have ended up where I am right now! Well, I probably would have done that time with a little more pride than what I’m in here for now.

I read your list and I made my own list with all the things on yours that were sort of possible and I was willing to do. And then I planned some variations to surprise you.

Remember what you called me: The best BDSM planner in the world.

Yeah, I kind of was.