I know I talked about safe words in the past. I had never safe worded. I didn’t want to ever safe word. I loved being tough and too strong for a safe word. City Boy and I talked about safe words. He wanted me to have one and I agreed because I wasn’t planning on saying it.
That first night, I was in a spreader bar with my tits on the bed and my legs spread. He was fucking me hard and it felt amazing. But soon, my legs were on fire. The heels were 3 inches and I had been standing too long. I begged to move. I pleaded. Then I used my bitch voice. “I need to move. It hurts.” He moved my position, we finished, and then it was time to talk.
Was that how I wanted things? Did I want to come out of my submission and control the scene? Wasn’t that what my safe word was for? I explained that I didn’t want things to end and I wasn’t feeling out of control. Since I didn’t want to stop, I didn’t want to safe word. City Boy reminded me that I wanted to have pain and push my limits and that being stubborn was not going to work in my favor.
So we switched from “mango” to the standard (boring) “yellow” and “red”. “Yellow” means, change the position or ease up because I am about to break. “Red” means, stop things and give me after care.
I have used yellow twice since…