She felt a restlessness that caught her by surprise and threw her off balance. Her chest was tight again and her breathing chaotic. She roamed her horizon for something, or someone to blame but found no offence nor event to explain the feeling. She simply wanted more. She wanted to feel more intensely. Feel what? She was not sure.
But, she had a sense that she wanted to be swept up in the big waves: not the still waves of the shore that she was accustomed to now but the big waves: the waves that scared her and the waves she did not know how to handle.
She remembered the big waves from all of the summers. She had never really learned the skills to handle the big waves, with a board or her own body. Instead of riding the waves, she let them toss and turn her until they broke over her and she could come up for air: gasping and pulling her hair away from over her eyes. It seemed to her she would never tame those waves, and yet she went back for one more try, every now and again. In her mind, she was trying yet again to ride the big waves, all by herself.
A memory popped into her head. They had been up North and she felt out of control. Her owner had got very cross with her and before he took her to the beach, he had slapped her hard and she wore a red mark to that beach. She was embarrassed to admit even to herself that it calmed her. He took her deep into the water with her board, where the big waves lay and he put her on her board and pushed hard.
She was riding the wave and she felt elated to be doing so. She had needed some help to ride that wave but even so, now she was triumphing over the wave! She felt so close to him for giving her that; her stability.
She was sometimes restless. She was sometimes saved from herself.
Showing posts with label reconciliation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reconciliation. Show all posts
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
What a difference a day makes
What a pity it is that there is no official association for people such as us, who can keep statistics and so on in relation to what we do, how we feel about it and so on! The government gives out grants for all sort of useless activities and yet they never seem to get around to some analysis of doms and subs.
I am doing my best to set the record straight. You do want me to be analytical, don't you?
Okay, good! I thought so. So, here is what I have been thinking...
It is not at all easy for a submissive woman to hold onto her upset. At the time of the explosion/implosion, at the time she shoots up to the stars like a "bottle rocket", it might seem to the poor Dom looking on, wondering what the hell just happened, that she is down for the count. He won't be doing any more BDSM activities with this lass! She is clearly not into this whole power exchange routine at all!
But, twenty-four hours later, she can barely remember what the upset was about. She remembers being distressed but she can't for the life of her, remember why!
This must be terribly confusing to the poor man, who looks on in wonderment. How can she be so light and breezy, such desirable company today, when she was a blithering, crying mess yesterday?
Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I actually don't have the answer. The simple fact is that a submissive woman, as far as I can tell, just has that happy knack of being positive a good deal of the time. After an upset, the next day, she has no interest in the blame game and instead, she is most contrite. Whoever started it, whoever said what to whom, is of no further interest to her. She has had her say and she wants to get back to where things were. She wants to get to the place where she belongs: the bottom.
It is, therefore, the easiest thing in the world for her to be contrite. She is sorry for her part in the little break in proceedings. She tells her man that she loves him. She asks, demurely, if he loves her. In fact, he does! And, life is back to normal.
Consider exhibit number one: an email exchange the morning after a fracas:
"Sir
I have your phone. It was left in my car. Thank you for a lovely morning.
Love
girl
XO"
"Thank you girl for the lovely morning also. What a difference a day makes. Perhaps you might remind yourself of that when you feel like you are about to blow/go off!
Thanks re phone.
Love Sir"
Yeah. Yeah. I skipped over the punishment thing. But, this is my blog, and you didn't want to hear about that. Or,did you?
I am doing my best to set the record straight. You do want me to be analytical, don't you?
Okay, good! I thought so. So, here is what I have been thinking...
It is not at all easy for a submissive woman to hold onto her upset. At the time of the explosion/implosion, at the time she shoots up to the stars like a "bottle rocket", it might seem to the poor Dom looking on, wondering what the hell just happened, that she is down for the count. He won't be doing any more BDSM activities with this lass! She is clearly not into this whole power exchange routine at all!
But, twenty-four hours later, she can barely remember what the upset was about. She remembers being distressed but she can't for the life of her, remember why!
This must be terribly confusing to the poor man, who looks on in wonderment. How can she be so light and breezy, such desirable company today, when she was a blithering, crying mess yesterday?
Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I actually don't have the answer. The simple fact is that a submissive woman, as far as I can tell, just has that happy knack of being positive a good deal of the time. After an upset, the next day, she has no interest in the blame game and instead, she is most contrite. Whoever started it, whoever said what to whom, is of no further interest to her. She has had her say and she wants to get back to where things were. She wants to get to the place where she belongs: the bottom.
It is, therefore, the easiest thing in the world for her to be contrite. She is sorry for her part in the little break in proceedings. She tells her man that she loves him. She asks, demurely, if he loves her. In fact, he does! And, life is back to normal.
Consider exhibit number one: an email exchange the morning after a fracas:
"Sir
I have your phone. It was left in my car. Thank you for a lovely morning.
Love
girl
XO"
"Thank you girl for the lovely morning also. What a difference a day makes. Perhaps you might remind yourself of that when you feel like you are about to blow/go off!
Thanks re phone.
Love Sir"
Yeah. Yeah. I skipped over the punishment thing. But, this is my blog, and you didn't want to hear about that. Or,did you?
Monday, July 27, 2009
I am sorry
In my university years, I had a waitress's job. The customers would come up to the blackboard and make their selections for dinner and then they would place their order with me. I can still recall in detail, a particular couple who stood at the blackboard deciding what they would order. They were about thirty years old. At the time, I considered them the ideal couple. He was attentive and loving to her, and she was basking in that love and attention. It was obvious they were having trouble keeping their hands off each other.
It was exactly what I wanted; to be in love and for a man to be in love with me. In my late teens and early twenties, I tended to want to be thirty. I wanted to have the air of sophistication that I felt a thirty year old carried. I wanted the sense of stability that I felt came with being thirty; a home of one's own and a little bit of money to decorate it tastefully. It is no secret that I am a bit of a homing pigeon. My thoughts were always to make a comfortable home and to share it with a man.
I thought about that couple as I walked this morning, right around the river. It felt good to be out early amongst the bikers and walkers and my mind was drifting, trying to settle itself from listening to my husband's upsetting words. I thought about my kink and all that has happened in the past three years. And, I thought back to the young girl that I was; wanting love and stability.
As our marriage has gone on, the importance of my following his lead, come what may, has increased. He will brook no argument with me and under those circumstances, I do my best to contain my thoughts, my needs and my wants. I do my best to live the life that he has deemed is the one we will live.
When he is good to me, loving and kind, my little world seems much bigger and better than any celebrity or heiress. When he is rude and without understanding for my concerns, my little world caves in on me. I wonder why I am living in such a cramped, little space.
For a woman to express her submission with ease and beauty, she needs her man to treat her very well. Therein is the secret of the D/s relationship. A woman such as me is prepared to lose everything, even her humanity at times, if the dominant man of her life treats her with the utmost respect.
It is for this reason that I continue to believe that a man in a D/s relationship, has no alternative but to express his apology when his behaviour has been below par. He loses nothing by doing so and in fact, her respect for him is restored. Three little words will change her day and her mindset. I see no reason why dominance and humility cannot, at times, be perfect partners.
It was exactly what I wanted; to be in love and for a man to be in love with me. In my late teens and early twenties, I tended to want to be thirty. I wanted to have the air of sophistication that I felt a thirty year old carried. I wanted the sense of stability that I felt came with being thirty; a home of one's own and a little bit of money to decorate it tastefully. It is no secret that I am a bit of a homing pigeon. My thoughts were always to make a comfortable home and to share it with a man.
I thought about that couple as I walked this morning, right around the river. It felt good to be out early amongst the bikers and walkers and my mind was drifting, trying to settle itself from listening to my husband's upsetting words. I thought about my kink and all that has happened in the past three years. And, I thought back to the young girl that I was; wanting love and stability.
As our marriage has gone on, the importance of my following his lead, come what may, has increased. He will brook no argument with me and under those circumstances, I do my best to contain my thoughts, my needs and my wants. I do my best to live the life that he has deemed is the one we will live.
When he is good to me, loving and kind, my little world seems much bigger and better than any celebrity or heiress. When he is rude and without understanding for my concerns, my little world caves in on me. I wonder why I am living in such a cramped, little space.
For a woman to express her submission with ease and beauty, she needs her man to treat her very well. Therein is the secret of the D/s relationship. A woman such as me is prepared to lose everything, even her humanity at times, if the dominant man of her life treats her with the utmost respect.
It is for this reason that I continue to believe that a man in a D/s relationship, has no alternative but to express his apology when his behaviour has been below par. He loses nothing by doing so and in fact, her respect for him is restored. Three little words will change her day and her mindset. I see no reason why dominance and humility cannot, at times, be perfect partners.
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