Being Owned

His ownership has settled somewhere deep inside of me.

These have been challenging days. Our energies, and our attentions are pretty intently focused on getting ready for the upcoming ordeal of total knee replacement surgery and the subsequent rehabilitation. It is a looming reality that we have chosen with care and deliberation and much study -- and it is still significantly intimidating for each one of us. The effort to approach it with some measure of calm doesn't leave a lot of energy for "other" things.

I think that Master has worried, as we've approached this, about how we, and specifically He, will maintain the M/s dynamic in our relationship when He cannot physically or emotionally exercise His dominance actively. I know it is something I have thought about.

But then there have been these last two weeks...

The recovery from Master's biopsies has not been simple or straight forward. He turned up with some sort of infection that nearly hospitalized Him, and laid Him low for days. Somewhere in all the many medical appointments that have been required to prepare for this surgery, He picked up a virus that left Him feverish and feeling just crummy. In getting ready to undergo the surgery, He's had to lay off of His arthritis medication, and many of the herbal supplements and vitamins that keep Him feeling strong and vibrant and relatively comfortable. Suffice it to say, in these last few days, He hasn't been feeling at the top of His game. He's slept. A lot. When He's been awake, He's been listless and lacked the energy to do much of anything beyond getting rubbed and scratched and petted.

There was a time, early in my coming to terms with my submissive and masochistic nature, when I needed, and more truthfully, WANTED to feel that long-denied side of me affirmed and reinforced on a frequent and regular basis. It was such a sexual and emotional turn on and gave me so much attention that I craved it like chocolate. It seemed that I couldn't get enough of it and to have it denied for very long put me into a funk and a pout that was not pretty. I wanted spankings and I wanted rules and I wanted the constant attentiveness of my "Dominant." If I didn't get those things, I began to wonder if there was serious crumbling at the foundation of the D/s itself -- if maybe there was some real lack in the Dominant... I think I am not unique in that sort of thinking. Most submissives go through some variation on that theme I suspect. The duration and intensity of that stage depends on a lot of different factors.

What I am noticing now is that I am deeply and calmly owned. There is no doubt of that. We've not spanked much in these intense and busy and scary days. The energy for it is just not there. We are looking down the barrel of a long space of time where the likelihood is that His physical capacity to dominate me in that sense will obviously be diminished. It matters not at all to me. I am sure that I am His. He will need me in ways far more significant and more intensely intimate than He ever has up until this moment. T and I will be more surely bound in our will to serve His recovery. We are His, even as He is ours.

Ownership comes quietly and dwells in the spaces of the heart and the mind. We, all of us, will miss the rollicking and randy spanking and fucking that are the hallmarks of robust good health. We'll look forward to the happy day when Master can bounce up on His new bionic knee and run me to ground if I should decide to make a race of it with Him. Until then, I am utterly owned -- His always and all ways.

swan

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