I move to place myself in front of him. Proud and naked, ready to obey his will. He places the rope around my neck and tells me it looks lovely, I wear it well.
This isn't the first time he has tied me up. But it is it is the first time he's laid me out and composed my body in such a way that I cannot move myself. Helpless.
He teases me, caresses me. Brings his beautiful cock within inches of my eager mouth just to tsk me for moving towards it, then he moves it away. Admonishing me for being greedy.
"The thing about you is, you like to touch. I think it is a far greater deprivation to take that away from you then to withhold caressing you."
He's right. He knows me. I'm strong and proud and independent. However, one of my biggest weaknesses is my love of tactile sensory input. To feel his smooth skin under my finger tips, to kiss and caress him. These are the things I crave.
Today I find it hard to find zen. To obtain that place of bliss and quiet in my head. My subspace. I feel each strike, I jump nervously at small caresses. I'm not being very good.
"You don't want my gifts? Why aren't you receiving my gifts?"
I try but no words are forthcoming. I don't know what has thrown me off. Everything is so intense, so deep. I love every part of everything this man does to me, but today I'm making him think that I doubt.
With a sigh he gives me fulfillment, he slides into my depth and it's like fireworks going off in my body. The position of my head and my shoulders is such that my position feels precarious. There's a massive dresser just beyond my bed and with my wrists tied to my ankles, severe injury would occur if I went over.
I ask if we can scoot up, I can feel myself sliding closer with each powerful thrust of his hips. He drives on, harder now, knowing of my fear.
"Trust me," he says.
I swallow, I try.
My eyes sting with the burn of tears and one delicate stream runs out of each eye.
He looms close to my face with a stare so intense it bores into my soul.
"I will always keep you safe, I will NEVER let you get hurt. Trust me."
The tears are coursing down my cheeks now, but I do. I trust him with everything that I am and I know that he will do as he says. He knows about my horrible anxieties and that this is the ultimate surrender to him.
He is merciful. After I acquiesce, he moves me from the edge. He kisses my tears, salty on his lips. He cuddles me and caresses me and lets me know I am safe.
I've learned a lesson I already knew in the back of my head. He will always keep me safe. To him I am precious and something of great value to be cared for and loved. All that is required of me is to let go, to trust, to allow him to lead. I found my space that day, my subspace. The warm pleasant glow after play stayed with me, warming my soul. All because I was willing to follow, over the edge even if need be, safe in my lovers embrace.
Find out who is being wicked with me this Wednesday.
Follow me to...
All that is required is letting...such a simple idea and, often very difficult to. But I suppose that is love, right? A giant scary leap of faith that requires only that we jump...over the edge. Great piece of writing. I love the focus on your mental processes. The metacognition of submission is fascinating.ReplyDelete
Very well put!ReplyDelete
Such a beautiful description of letting go in the face of fear. Trust is everything :)ReplyDelete
Beautiful to read how you trust him and eventually find your happy place. Like Kazi said: trust is everything :)ReplyDelete
I do love the way you write, the way you tell more than one story. It is difficult at times to let go even when we trust. We need to be reminded and reassured they will still take care of us every inch of the way.ReplyDelete