Needful Submission
"You know what you must do," he has said to me many times.
He speaks of needs, my needs, not his own.
This is a first.
I sit on the outside of the edge, waiting.
Waiting for what?
Waiting for him to come and get me like the others have?
Offering me everything, and leaving me empty and burned out, only to rebuild myself and plunge in again.
For what, what do I seek? Why do I continue?
What spark remains in these abused and fragmented needs of mine, that keeps me from euthanising them?
Knelling at the edge I rock back and forth on hands and knees, feeling the fluttering that is in my chest, or is it a vortex. All I know is that it pulls at me, and in a direction the means that once again I would risk my dignity in the search to fulfill my needs. How many wannabes have spun a good line, even taken me into sub-space, only to satisfy there own physical pleasures or their egos, then left me feeling empty and used, and not in a good way. How many well intended promises did I cling to, only to learn the person who made them was not responsible enough to know limits of their own potential. How many lies, how many manipulations, how many time have I entrusted, only to end up damaged and disappointed.
I am not blameless for the state I am in, we all have a hand in creating our own misfortune. So much I have experienced, yet not once have I benefited from active training. What did I want when I started? What do I need now?
I wanted to explore these raging desires, and to have it all. How quickly did I learn that haste can lay waste to what we assume to be strong, and how fragile I was in reality. What was once an enthusiastic charge forward has become a mix of timid faltering steps, what was once exuberance is now fear. The ability to trust has now become immediate suspicion.
How I have mellowed.
Now I need to be able to believe. To believe that this part of me, the submissive, is worth believing in. I need to serve someone who is going to work with me, and have high expectations of me as a pet, and not as just a toy to be played with a few times and discarded. I need the structure of ongoing discipline, and not an occasional whipping as foreplay to an unearned sexual experience. I need a point to focus on, a voice to blindly follow in trust, a level stare to cringe beneath when I fail, a fist entangled in my hair, a soft caress of my cheek or the sting of that hand’s corrective measure. I need to be allowed to cry, I need tears to flow, I need the Master to not only work over my flesh, but my mind as well. I need him to drive me to the place where I do not think, I simply respond. To the place in me where my words flow without thought, and are sincerely my own, and not what I thought would be the right thing to say. How I hide behind words to protect myself. I need to not feel the need to protect myself, and just serve. I need to see that the role of the Dominate can be represented by a mature and responsible person who would be interested in what I had to offer. I take pride in my work, I need someone to take me seriously, and not just play with me, then forget about me. I need the secure feeling of being actively owned, not married, not romanticized, but owned.
So why do I hesitate?
Can I do it one more time? Will it be different this time? Or will that same thing happen again. Or even worse, will he find me unsuitable for his purpose? The anxiety wells up within me, I know what I must do. My heart pounds with excitement, fear, and dread, to the point that it adds to the trembling of my body. I focus on the aberration before me, the one that has beckoned me, the only one I have felt drawn to in quite a while. He has watched my inner conflict without demand, making only an invitation. I can never tell if his focus is on me or elsewhere, his face is always obscure. All I see are his open hands. His voice echoes in my head…
"You know what you must do..."
So once again I remove my clothing, and with it the token armor of my soul. Once again I allow myself to be completely vulnerable, and in this state of complete nakedness I cross over the line on hands and knees. This signifies to him I am prepared to submit to him, if he should still be interested in my need to serve him. Huddling low I wait for what seems like an eternity, resisting the temptation to shuffle back across the line because he has not yet acknowledged me This unsure feeling within me is overwhelming. I attempt to hold still, but I am still unable to control the trembling. I hear a tapping sound and it startles me so that I gasp, which turns into a shudder due to my trembling. He has squatted down and is tapping on the floor.
"Here, here," is the simple command he gently gives as he points and taps on the floor in front of him.
Without hesitation I crawl to where he indicated, keeping my head low, yet still trembling. He places his hand on my head, petting me like an animal, and his touch is electric. As the energy in me rushes to meet his touch, I feel it everywhere in my being. I feel a sensation in my body as if my chest was opening on its own accord, and my heart, my very soul, is being exposed, the effect of my need to serve. The feelings that have been reawakened after being forced into their slumber by desperation, now well rested, are strong and needful. I begin to moan and sway slightly, overwhelmed with the feelings as they course through me.
"There now," he almost whispers, "Yes, now it can begin"
His voice is full of understanding, he is a Master truly, and can see my needful submission. After one last caress of my hair he entangles his fingers in it, making a fist, and pulls my head up. Then standing to his full height he pulls me to mine, then forces me to look upon his face.
"Yes," he says with commending authority, "Now WE can begin."
He speaks of needs, my needs, not his own.
This is a first.
I sit on the outside of the edge, waiting.
Waiting for what?
Waiting for him to come and get me like the others have?
Offering me everything, and leaving me empty and burned out, only to rebuild myself and plunge in again.
For what, what do I seek? Why do I continue?
What spark remains in these abused and fragmented needs of mine, that keeps me from euthanising them?
Knelling at the edge I rock back and forth on hands and knees, feeling the fluttering that is in my chest, or is it a vortex. All I know is that it pulls at me, and in a direction the means that once again I would risk my dignity in the search to fulfill my needs. How many wannabes have spun a good line, even taken me into sub-space, only to satisfy there own physical pleasures or their egos, then left me feeling empty and used, and not in a good way. How many well intended promises did I cling to, only to learn the person who made them was not responsible enough to know limits of their own potential. How many lies, how many manipulations, how many time have I entrusted, only to end up damaged and disappointed.
I am not blameless for the state I am in, we all have a hand in creating our own misfortune. So much I have experienced, yet not once have I benefited from active training. What did I want when I started? What do I need now?
I wanted to explore these raging desires, and to have it all. How quickly did I learn that haste can lay waste to what we assume to be strong, and how fragile I was in reality. What was once an enthusiastic charge forward has become a mix of timid faltering steps, what was once exuberance is now fear. The ability to trust has now become immediate suspicion.
How I have mellowed.
Now I need to be able to believe. To believe that this part of me, the submissive, is worth believing in. I need to serve someone who is going to work with me, and have high expectations of me as a pet, and not as just a toy to be played with a few times and discarded. I need the structure of ongoing discipline, and not an occasional whipping as foreplay to an unearned sexual experience. I need a point to focus on, a voice to blindly follow in trust, a level stare to cringe beneath when I fail, a fist entangled in my hair, a soft caress of my cheek or the sting of that hand’s corrective measure. I need to be allowed to cry, I need tears to flow, I need the Master to not only work over my flesh, but my mind as well. I need him to drive me to the place where I do not think, I simply respond. To the place in me where my words flow without thought, and are sincerely my own, and not what I thought would be the right thing to say. How I hide behind words to protect myself. I need to not feel the need to protect myself, and just serve. I need to see that the role of the Dominate can be represented by a mature and responsible person who would be interested in what I had to offer. I take pride in my work, I need someone to take me seriously, and not just play with me, then forget about me. I need the secure feeling of being actively owned, not married, not romanticized, but owned.
So why do I hesitate?
Can I do it one more time? Will it be different this time? Or will that same thing happen again. Or even worse, will he find me unsuitable for his purpose? The anxiety wells up within me, I know what I must do. My heart pounds with excitement, fear, and dread, to the point that it adds to the trembling of my body. I focus on the aberration before me, the one that has beckoned me, the only one I have felt drawn to in quite a while. He has watched my inner conflict without demand, making only an invitation. I can never tell if his focus is on me or elsewhere, his face is always obscure. All I see are his open hands. His voice echoes in my head…
"You know what you must do..."
So once again I remove my clothing, and with it the token armor of my soul. Once again I allow myself to be completely vulnerable, and in this state of complete nakedness I cross over the line on hands and knees. This signifies to him I am prepared to submit to him, if he should still be interested in my need to serve him. Huddling low I wait for what seems like an eternity, resisting the temptation to shuffle back across the line because he has not yet acknowledged me This unsure feeling within me is overwhelming. I attempt to hold still, but I am still unable to control the trembling. I hear a tapping sound and it startles me so that I gasp, which turns into a shudder due to my trembling. He has squatted down and is tapping on the floor.
"Here, here," is the simple command he gently gives as he points and taps on the floor in front of him.
Without hesitation I crawl to where he indicated, keeping my head low, yet still trembling. He places his hand on my head, petting me like an animal, and his touch is electric. As the energy in me rushes to meet his touch, I feel it everywhere in my being. I feel a sensation in my body as if my chest was opening on its own accord, and my heart, my very soul, is being exposed, the effect of my need to serve. The feelings that have been reawakened after being forced into their slumber by desperation, now well rested, are strong and needful. I begin to moan and sway slightly, overwhelmed with the feelings as they course through me.
"There now," he almost whispers, "Yes, now it can begin"
His voice is full of understanding, he is a Master truly, and can see my needful submission. After one last caress of my hair he entangles his fingers in it, making a fist, and pulls my head up. Then standing to his full height he pulls me to mine, then forces me to look upon his face.
"Yes," he says with commending authority, "Now WE can begin."