Confessions from Fans: How choking my ex-wife helps our relationship heal

Being a filmmaker can sometimes feel like being a priest: People will come to you with their confessions, obsessions, and fears, letting go of what occupies their hearts and minds. The camera, once on, causes people to lock themselves away for fear of discovery, or to let go and feel liberated.

Some people have stories they want to share, but they can't be on film to tell them. The following was shared with me from a fan of my work that wanted me to know their story. Maybe one day it will be on film. But until then...
NOTE: Susan is not her real name. It has been changed to conceal her identity
The first time I met Susan, I loved her. She had those amazing blue eyes you fell into. I was drawn to her and she to me. We quickly became friends, finding we had a great deal in common: movies, books, hobbies, life goals that you discuss and get advice for. I was at the time in a relationship with a woman and was relatively happy. She, married, I assumed was the same. When I heard a year later her marriage had come to an end, and I found myself single, we decided to take the friendship to the next level.
I'm what you call a Daddy Dom, with a healthy dose of Sadist. If you're not familiar with the terms, I'm a natural protector, that loves to pamper and spoil, and my partners are submissive, with a focus on their inner child. An adult woman will sit on my lap and I will brush her hair, calling her my "precious little girl" or if she's been particularly good, I will draw her a bath, wash her, take her to bed, feed her dessert and massage her body with warm oils while she sips wine. Then, I bind her hands, bend her over and cane her, or flog, nipple clamps that cause tremendous pain, with the release bringing promises of an orgasm. 
The "Girl" becomes the "Whore" that needs to be punished.
In our discussions, I discovered Susan enjoyed a variety of kink. Frankly, things I never tried, or could imagine anyone would like. She loved rape simulation, strangulation, molestation play, masked intruder sessions, etc.
This. Was all very new. And I loved it.
You always hear the best couples started as friends and they slowly developed into life partners, but this wasn't our case. After getting married and moving in together, we found those life goals we had in common had changed as time past. We had very different ways of doing day to day activities and that caused a lot of conflict as well. 
Eventually, after hard work and honest talks, we admitted it wasn't working. I was devastated. This was the woman I was to spend my life with, that would have my children, that was open to exploring things I never thought possible.
We promised to remain friends. Which we did. However, when I would see her out, I couldn't be near her. It was a constant reminder of the fact this was the woman I still loved, but knew I could never have. Nothing I did, therapy, prayer, drinking, drugs, sex, could get me past the pain of loss. 
Six months after I moved out, I received a text from her:
"I have a proposition for you...I need a session. I'm in a bad headspace. And need to get out of it. And you are the only one that really knows how. If you don't want to I understand, but I hope you do."
My response: "8pm. Tuesday. My apartment. Bring the nipple clamps."
"Yes sir."
She appeared at my door like the girl I fell in love with the first time: Those bright blue eyes shined, her low cut black dress showed off her incredible breasts. But the longing to be her husband suddenly vanished. Gone was the woman who would be the mother of my children. She was a whore, delivered to my home. This was my domain, not hers. 
All part of the game. 
She came inside and sat down. I said very little. I was cold, deliberately so. Distant. Kink isn't just about the Sub being in the right headspace, it's about the Dom being in his own. I offered her a drink of her favorite rum, made just the way she liked it. I took a seat across from her. I wore all black with knee high boots.
I watched, read her, felt her from the distance between us like a predator. I started slow. Asked her about her week, how life has been, her family...I shared a bit about what had been going on with me. She relaxed and that's when it started. 
I rose from my chair and walked over to her, ran my fingers through her hair and she knew. The drink went on the table and she looked up at me. 
"Get up." I said. 
She rose without a word. I took her hands and brought her to the middle of the room. 
"Don't look at me."
She turned away, standing at attention. 
The dress fell from her body and she was completely naked. I ran my fingers over her skin, watching as the goose bumps appeared. Her nipples became hard. The clamps went on and she jumped in pain.
"If you can't handle that, then how the fuck do you expect to deal with my cane?"
She struggled to remain composed. I reached for the cuffs and bound her wrists. My hand shot at her throat with a grip and I slammed her against the wall. 
"Well, you are. But the game has changed, hasn't it cunt?"
Susan struggled to speak while gasping for air.
I took my hand off so she could breath and slapped her. She turned and looked at me. Again, the grip returned to her throat. 
"First off. It's sir. You finish each sentence with sir. Second. I told you not to look at me."
I let go, bent her over, reached for the cane and struck hard. She dropped to her knees and I brought her back to attention by pulling on the chain of the nipple clamps. She was quivering, crying, scared. I took out my knife and put it to her throat. With my free hand, I slid my fingers between the lips of her pussy. She was dripping. 
"I can feel all the men you have fucked. I can't believe a cunt like you is still tight."
"I've been a whore sir. There have been so many men."
I put the knife away and started to strangle her, yelling in her face.
"Goddamn you! Fuck you! I knew you were a whore all along! You disgust me you fucking bitch!"
I took her back to the middle of the room, bent her over my chair and tied her to the wood. Out came the cane, but instead of punishment, it was rhythmic. Slowly I struck, then getting faster and faster, my other hand running fingers down her spine. I whispered to her, words I knew would make her even more wet. 
Then came the flogger. In the same rhythmic motion, it fell against her back softly, then hard against her ass. I spread her legs with my black boots and let the strips of leather strike her clit. She quivered, and in mid orgasm, I ripped the nipple clamps off. She screamed until my hand tightened against her throat to silence her. 
Back to the caning until at one moment, I could see her knees start to wobble. It was coming. I could see it. Her words only confirmed my suspicions. 
"I'm going to pass out."
Another orgasm before she started to fall onto the floor. I dropped the cane, grabbed her in my arms and we hit the carpet together. She quaked and I held her close. 
I whispered to her while removing the cuffs. 
"Good girl. That's right my beautiful one. I love you. I love you. You are safe and I will hold you. I'm so proud of you. You were amazing."
She let go completely and started crying. It was then the cold armor of my Dom nature faded. I started to cry as well. Our tears covered our faces as we kissed. 
"Thank you" She whispered. "Thank you...thank you." She kept saying. 
I felt her racing heart against mine as we silently cried. 
We meet now once a week in secret. None of our friends know of our play. It's our private time together for mutual healing. 
I will always love Susan. She will always be in my heart to some capacity, but now, we are free from the torments of the past we shared. We are moving on. It's cleansing in pain and pleasure. Unconventional, yes. But we get what we need from each other. More than we ever could as friends, lovers or partners for life.

One thought on “Confessions from Fans: How choking my ex-wife helps our relationship heal

  1. Yes. This is sometimes the best and most beneficial relationship you can maintain and cherish. The silent submission and the hardened master… Too many ideas of how much this counts as therapy.

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