Whistling in the Dark
I need to write. Need words. Need to not be alone in my head today. Need to not have empty spaces that can feel up with dark scary monsters in the corners of my mind...
We sat at dinner last night and talked of lots of things. We've all been trying hard to not be scared with each other. We are the "brave" family. It is clear that each one of us has decided that letting our fears show makes it harder on each of the other two. So there are happy faces all around. If you don't look too close. And we don't. None of us peer into the depths of the eyes where the little scared furry critters skitter in the underbrush of the mind. Each of us politely ignore that tightness around the lips and the eyes... We're all trying hard to take care of one another the best we know how, and that includes not ratcheting up the general level of anxiety in the household.
So I was just a little taken by surprise when He looked at me and said, "I am not feeling very dominant these last few weeks -- I just feel weak and vulnerable."
I sat there and tried to take in the vibration of those sounds. Not the meaning of the words so much as the feeling of them; what they did in the air between us... Because it is true that the rhythms of our M/s have shifted these last weeks. Been softer and more subtle. I've lain in His arms in the dark nights and early mornings and felt my bonds made not of leather or rope, but of heartbeats and breaths, and something even more ethereal and more powerful than that. It is true that, physically, we've been less inclined to the obvious, outward displays of power exchange, and yet I've known myself more deeply bound to Him in these weeks than in any of the previous months or years. He senses that He is less able to protect, less able to compel, less able to "take" my compliance. All this at the same moment that I am so deeply aware that He has become my very lifeblood; that the heart that will be the subject of attention this day pounds out the rhythms of my life as much as it does His...
How interesting that He senses a diminishment when the diminishment has etched the bonds more deeply into my soul.
We are indeed different -- Dominants and submissives.
swan Link
3 Comments:
Everyone is vulnerable. We all have to take care of one another all the time, whatever our ostensible position in the group. Even my little son has to learn to take care of his parents in the ways he can. The slave takes care of her Master, naturally. I don't think we are indeed different, except in the rôles we play. The rôles can seem very real, but they are no more real than the rest of the play.
Yes, the leather and the rope are symbols of a more real bond, that of the heart. Does it matter who binds and who is bound? Who whips and who is whipped? We choose a role, but that role is the more fulfilled the more we become one with our partner.
And please keep us up to date with the Heretic's progress sue.
What a beautifully written post.
Two years ago my husband suffered a series of strokes. I was desperately afraid, and so conscious of my love for him - I felt it with every painful breath I took.
I am very glad to hear of the positive results of this latest test, and I will be checking back to see that results of the final tests.
Best Wishes...
Julia
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