auliya
Posts: 5
Joined: 5/12/2005
From: Austin, TX, USA
Status: offline
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As an introduction, I'm posting part of a journal entry from the beginning of a D/s relationship back in 2002. This was one of the first relationships for me that was contained entirely in real-life (rather than having components online: MU*s, IRC, etc) and in which I was not a switch or a sub, but a Domme. I've found incredible satisfaction on both sides of the D/s coin, but I've found that being a submissive is a whole lot more risky. I'm skittish about D/s in general. But here I am, right?
- - - - - - -
I kept waking up. Early in the morning, I woke up. And then again. I thought I was feeling pretty casual about meeting him, but I found myself very... focused. I really don't want to confess any of this. I really don't. Because I don't want to admit there's such a slippery fucking slope. That'd I would take one step in a direction then start slipping, windmilling my arms like an idiot. But by the time I was in the car and dialing him on my cell phone, I had one foot in domspace. I could hear the way I was speaking to him.
I'd managed to talk myself back down by the time I reached his house. Everything I did was... so deliberate. I deliberately held back, watching him carefully, waiting to see if he had his own ideas how he wanted things to go. I had no cues, so I finally pulled him into a long, soft hug and told him he was one crazy son-of-a-bitch. Then he didn't choose to sit next to me. So I brought him over with a joke. He sat next to me. I have no idea if I was a good conversationlist. I was studying him.
Lunch was actually a break from the extreme... focus (there's that word again) that I was working with. In public, I could manage to stop my gears from turning. I came somewhat out of headspace. I can't believe me. He was only here to chat. Discuss. Explore verbally. Share. Open up.
At home, we settled in on the sofa and I asked him a number of questions that I'd thought about earlier. I already knew I wanted to show him something. I'm not sure what story I told myself about it, when I started to formulate what I would do. I think I was telling myself that I'd been all tell, and no show. I'd described, the night before, some pretty intense things: all about emotional and psychological play, headspace, control. I think my agenda was something along the lines of, "Show him that it's not bullshit. Show him that you're not fucking kidding. It exists. It's real."
So I started down the path. Very, very gradually. So gradually, it almost hurt me, because I was slipping down that slope, wanting more than was really appropriate for "Just talking."
First, there was nothing significant about the fact I was touching his hair. It was just one of the first physical expressions of affection we'd really shared. It was a starting point. But I deliberately made my questions more intense, more specific. At some point, I tell him to close his eyes. I remove his glasses. His head is bowed under the weight of my hand. He says, nearly whispering, "I like the way you're petting my hair."
"I'm not just 'petting' your hair, am I."
It's not really a question. I want to shift his focus. And I can see his face tighten slightly, and while up to this point he'd been able to answer fairly readily, this time there's a pause. And he finally says, quietly, "No."
I felt that he was seeing it, now. I was showing him something of what I wanted him to understand. And, yes, he was understanding it.
Everything I did after that was deliberately, gradually pushing him further down. It was only talking. I asked him questions that led in a particular direction and increased in intensity.
"When you dom, does S ever call you 'sir'?"
"Yes."
"Does it /mean/ anything, or is it a trapping?"
"It doesn't really mean anything. It's just play."
"And if she suddenly called you 'Master', would that mean anything?"
"I don't know."
"Would that indicate anything to you? Or would it be another playful thing?"
"It would be play."
"Weeks from now, when you call me Ma'am, will it be a 'trapping'?"
[long silence]
"....No."
In the course of this conversation-also-scene, I asked him if he'd ever experienced this headspace before. The answer was no. I asked him if he felt he'd ever produced this feeling in his submissives, as a dom. The answer was no. I asked him if he knew now what submissives mean when they talk about 'subspace' and 'dropping.'
The answer was yes.
But I didn't want to stop. How many times do I have to call DS addicting? I struggled. I took a break. Got a glass of water for him. Watched him drink it. Made sure he was alright. I wasn't doing anything physical to him -- not really -- but it's possible to drown in intensity. He described it as a little hypnotic. I think he's right. It is.
I couldn't keep it up. The temptation was too strong. I think about fifteen minutes after the water break, I was doing it again. Trying to put him there all over again. Eventually I changed position, turned over, leaned against him companionably. It helped. I couldn't see his face anymore. I couldn't reach any part of him except his hand. Even then, I was holding onto his wrist. Maybe it seemed strange to him, but I was funnelling all my tension into that... one... gesture.
His LJ entry later that evening wondered how much of what happened today was on purpose.
All of it.
-Auliya
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