The deepest acts of love, submission, and dominance aren't always sexual or extreme kink. Yes, I realize that love isn't a prerequisite in everyone's idea or practice of D/s, but it is for me. That approach did, of course, make my journey a bit more difficult. Instead of simply indulging in hedonist play and bending over for any guy willing to swing a paddle, interested in setting me up for a gang bang, or pay me a bit of careless attention, I waited for a Man whose kinks not only aligned well with mine but who would peel me open from the inside out. So when things get deep, I'm not referring to just an intense physical surface sensation. I'm talking about the complete emotional, mental, and physical surrender required to accept what he gives me.
Last week, I found myself with M at my weakest moments to date in His presence. I was physically incapacitated and mentally shorted out. Emotionally I was vulnerable and embarrassed. I was a sheer lump of helplessness. I was...sick as a fucking dog.
Maybe that doesn't sound like a big deal other than horrible timing. To me it was HUGE. For the first time in more than 10 years, I wasn't comfortably encased in my solitude as I succumbed to whatever bug had its vicious way with me. Instead for the first time in my life there was a loving, concerned and understanding partner with me. If I had had any mental, emotional, or physical strength I wouldn't have known what to do with myself. I would have been frantic that He was burdened or inconvenienced in even the slightest way by my pathetic misery. I've never needed babied nor sought attention/sympathy. No...just let me crawl in a dark corner and recover with the least loss of dignity.
Maybe being sick with your Dom also doesn't sound anything at all like your typical D/s experience, but when M refused to leave me alone in my corner and ordered me to stay in bed, that moment was ALL D/s. So was my complete surrender to His expectations. I didn't disobey my Owner to save my pride. I didn't rebel against my Daddy to be strong. I gave in to Him and what He chose as the best course of action for us. I wasn't afraid, not for a second, that He saw me at my weakest. My protective instinct to be seen as strong when I'm weak never even twitched. While I was sorry that our plans were cancelled, I didn't feel I wasn't good enough for Him. PTSD from my first marriage didn't crop up and have me paranoid that I'd be ridiculed or made fun of for my temporary weakness. His firm hand led me to where He wanted me to be, and I willingly and gratefully followed.
No...it wasn't the least bit kinky or sexual or even pretty. However, He very much was my loving Daddy and protective Owner. M was compassionate and kind. Tender and nurturing. As I curled under the covers, I remember how He would pet my head and check for a fever. I remember how His ran hand down my back. He went to the store to make sure I had the medicine I needed. He brought me orange juice and crackers. He made sure I rested. And His hugs...~sigh~ those made me feel so very, very loved and cared for. Cherished. Safe. Nothing would happen to me.
Even sick and unpretty and yucky...I was His.
I don't know what I did to deserve Him or His kind of love. I just know that even as I write this...tears stream down my face that I am so very blessed to have Him in my life, at my side, and leading me through this beautiful, sweet journey. M says this is simply how it is suppose to be. While I recognize that fact fully, I know so very well that how it is between us is so exquisitely rare.
Thank you M for all that you do and all that you are.