So the Conqueror and I started fucking again. Like Enigmatic Amour commented my body is weak. Or is it strong? My whore body both weak enough to have no sense of self-restraint and strong enough to convince my mind to give into her urges. And my mind is not stupid. I knew fucking the Conqueror again wasn’t what my heart wanted. I also knew it would have to end again and that end would be painful for us both. But this time I felt I would be able to control it better. Not perfectly but better. So in I went again.

And I don’t regret it. The Conqueror is an incredible lover and a natural dominant. Submitting to him in the moment is the most wonderful and natural feeling in the world. We spent a night together while his family were away. It started with a spanking bent over his lap and it ended with my arse being fucked so hard that it hurt to sit down for days afterwards. He used everything at his disposal: his hand, his fist, his cock, my toys. He made me scream over and over “I’m such a whore for you” and when I couldn’t take anymore I begged for his come in my whore arse. Somewhere in between the spanking and the fucking he cable-tied my hands together and pegged my body: my nipples, my stomach, my cunt lips, my tongue. Then he struck them off one by one with the cane. I still have the pegs and like to use them myself now. This man brought so many new ideas to me. I lay there on the floor, my arse cheeks red hot from my spanking, belt beating, and caning and my holes sore from hours of hard fucking. I have no words to describe the feeling. A moment of the truest and rarest peace.

I spent that night sleeping in his arms and it was easy to pretend reality didn’t exist. It had been a blissful few days. I had saved myself for this night and hadn’t come for a week. I’d spent the evening before cuddled with him on his sofa as we talked and kissed and I ended the night wanking him off like a teenager. He’d had lots of time free and I had made time for him knowing it would be short lived bliss. We’d met for lunch at his and for coffee in town. And now here he was spending the whole night with me. But reality broke through the dream the following morning like the sunbeams through the curtains. As I dropped kisses across his strong, hairy, masculine body; I knew he was not my heart’s equal. And quietly it was my heart that had grown strong. Strong enough to do battle with my whore body. Strong enough to convince my mind to side with her. Strong enough to prove to me this man in my bed is not enough for me. And he will never be.

At the start of this latest fucking, the Conqueror and I re-negotiated our terms. He made it clear that he would not be able to operate happily in our relationship if I did not allow him the freedom to behave naturally. I understood and accepted that term. It was my responsibility to manage the effect of his devouring dominance on me. Looking back now it has ended and ended finally, I am pleased that I did manage it better. Not perfectly but better. Controlling him is hard. I am in no doubt of his adoration for me and his attention is consuming. He easily devours as much of me as I allow and hungrily looks for more. But I will never allow him to devour me fully. He will never own all of me. Never have my heart, my mind, and my body. For one simple fairy-tale ending reason …

He is not the Prince Charming this Princess Whore is waiting for.

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