a new flavor

Over the past 48 hours he's introduced a new flavor.  And it's been very difficult for me to describe to him the effect because the effect has been different from anything else.

I'm also not really sure how to describe what he's doing differently, although it's not at all subtle, so it shouldn't be so hard to put my finger on.

He grabs me, unexpectedly and harshly, by my hair, my throat, my jaw.  He  forces my attention and tells me what i'm for, what he plans for me, what he wants.  He's done this - it seems like every 10 minutes through the day and night.  It's not - but it's often, and sudden, and on the verge of discovery by other people.  He touches and strokes and arouses precisely when i can't respond visibly or out loud.  He prods and pinches and scratches, painfully, just to hear me whimper.   He makes me self-conscious and won't allow me the comfort of a nervous laugh or looking away.  He allows me no interaction, i'm object only; then he shifts in a heartbeat to, "good girl, that's what i wanted," then in another heartbeat to the vanilla world around us as if nothing else ever existed.

It feels like he is creating two me's - much more defined, distinct from one another:  I'm the me the rest of the world sees - that transition i've been learning, I'm used to that dichotomy -His vs.  mother, daughter, sister, my work role, all the other roles we all have.

But the submissive me, the slave.... it feels like there is a splitting there as well: His - his good girl, his submissive wife, his companion sitting at his feet vs. His object - not a companion or wife at all - His toy but without the affection  - fierce ownership, desire, but not affection, just His to use then set aside.

That second one is new - I've felt glimpses or echo's of it, but to be more explicitly the object is brand new. Over the past 48 hours, every time he yanks me into this object mode, i fall more quickly and more deeply - more floaty, more focused on him, less aware of anything else around, more pliable, more sensitive to his touch and his cues, more aroused; craving to be his good girl and not the object, but above all else, wanting to do or be whatever he wants.

Once upon a time, i thought there was an endpoint to the things to discover in all this, to my depths and to his, or at least a very level plateau.  I think maybe there are so many flavors and so many facets.