His Instrument

There are so many fitting analogies to describe a D/s dynamic.  I've used many of them myself over the last year.  As the relationship grows and life ebbs and flows around a couple's interactions, patterns and opportunities evolve.  I've spent a considerable amount of time working through new evolutions.  I've sucked at adapting fluidly to those adjustments lately.  Too worried about coloring outside of the lines or straying from the path, I've failed to do well for M, myself, or my submission.

As I've thought different pieces through tonight, I came up against some hard truths and maybe...just maybe I've found an analogy that helps me clear away the haze that has frustrated me again and again.

The hard truth is that I am His.  Me. This.  My submission.  It's His.  No matter when.  No matter how.  No matter why.  Being His isn't a mask I wear or a role I put on when the bedroom door shuts behind us.  This is what I was always meant to be, yet He created this.

Me.  This.  My submission.  It's as if I am His custom guitar.

When we met, I was nothing more than raw materials.  No one had seen the potential or had the skills to assemble such a complicated instrument.  Yet patiently He carved my planes and crafted my curves. He painstakingly bore away and sanded down my imperfections with care and precision, nurturing to the surface the best of my qualities.  As he pieced together and stained the pliant wood in His colors, He created a magical place for my submission to exist inside those humble boards.  He formed the strong neck where His fingers would define the melodies He'd be inspired to play.  Then finally He carefully stretched taunt my strings across that oh so delicate bridge and tuned me so quietly even I didn't realize what He'd created.

When He was ready. When I was ready.  When it was finally time.

I sang for Him as He pluck my chords and danced His fingers over me again and again.

He knows me intimately.  My strengths and weaknesses.  My idiosyncrasies.  My depths.  With just the barest of effort my submission comes to life for Him.

For Him, I can fill the air with a chorus filled of laughter and joy, or I can scream for Him in a dark passion so fierce and mighty the walls tremble.  At His tenderest caress, my submission will hum quietly along the surface in tranquility.  When life's troubles batter at our door, He can lay down the blues or stroke a mournful ballad that makes me weep.  And yes...He can even leave me in silence, cradled quietly in His arms until He's ready.

Me.  This.  My submission.  I am His to play.

I don't always stay in tune, but with some adjustments or a new string, I can sing sweetly again for my Dominant and Owner.  The tone, the melody, the pace are all His to define.  Together, we create  music that is unique and beautifully ours.

Yes...that has helped me see a bit better tonight.
~DominaKat