Feral Submission

We are coming back together slowly. Finding our way into one another's rhythms and patterns again after what seems like a very long time apart together...

We spanked some this last weekend, even though we didn't either of us feel well, and we managed to make love with some level of success, although I feel as if I've forgotten even the simple rhythms of that... Awkward and clumsy was how I felt.

Deeper though is the sense, in me at least, that we are out of touch with one another.

Long ago, long before we came together, I was told by someone that "submissives submit." That simple bit of advice or wisdom or whatever, lodged in my mind and heart, and has guided much of my path ever since. I took it to mean that, whatever comes from without in terms of Dominance, the one who seeks to live as submissive finds the way to submit. Submission, in my view, is not something that is "taken" from me, forced, dragged, demanded, or otherwise coerced. Ideally, it is my calling and my goal to find what pleases and what is needed and desired by my Master -- and to do that, be that, give that...with as near perfect grace as I can manage. When I attain "perfect" submission, He would move His hand and whatever He most wanted or needed would be there already; whatever was desired would be supplied by me without His even needing to ask or think of it... My submission would be, from His perspective, nearly transparent...

That is the "ideal." Intellectually, it is what I strive for. Especially, in times like these last few months, when things have been difficult and stressful, that sort of ideal comes into play. Master has no time or energy to draw my submission from me with games and rituals and assorted erotic gambits. It has been up to me to submit with or without the active stimuli of BIG "D" Dominance. I've soothed myself; maintained my submission; acted to keep our home and lives on an even keel as best I could; answered to His needs and desires; and practiced to be as "transparent" as it was possible for me to be without the need for Him to think or act in regard to my submission generally. That part of our lives has been, as it should be, assumed.

The tricky thing about that is that I've gotten rather feral in my submission... A lot in my head. Out there on my own. Without the touch of His hand on my head, at my neck... without that restraint; without a collar to remind me to whom I belong. I've not forgotten. Not for a moment. But I've not practiced it in real time for a very long time. I've gotten skittish and shy and wildish. Our first coming together this weekend showed the marks of that. The voice in my head these days is mine -- not His. And that makes the time together all of the sudden very weird.

Feral submission. Odd state of affairs. Time to come in from the dark places. Time to come back to the fire and settle again. Time for some safety and security again...

swan

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