Soul Submissive

Our therapy has been grueling. Delving into the pain and anguish of our pasts has left me emotionally rung out. Working with our therapist has given me incredible insight, not just in my life, but into S's past and his heartbreak he carries. Our therapist Emily is like a guide, leading us through the most fearsome territory we've ever seen. The idea of writing about what was happening began to fill me with dread. It's hard enough to live it; how can I rehash it for others?

I've been filled with shame and fear because we fight so often. We yell and scream, threaten to leave each other, cry and sob, accuse, blame, and fall on the floor, exhausted. I can't tell you how many fights there have been, most ending in one of us or both of us crying ourselves to sleep, completely spent. I worried about sharing all of this, concerned that perhaps the insight I was sharing was only leading people in the wrong direction. I had lost faith in our process because I could see no light at the end of the tunnel.

New Year's Eve we went out and had a blast. Then, right around 1:00am, the familiar cycle began. S had too much to drink, he misunderstood something I said, and plunged into grief. It happens so quickly I can't see it until it's too late. It took all I had to get him to cross the street back to our apartment building, get him in the elevator and into our apartment. He fought me every step, wailing about how scared he was to go home. He has come to fear the fights so much that the idea we would fight terrifies him.

He seemed to think I was angry, but I was not. He assumed guilt for something that didn't even happen and became despondent. This happens night after night and I don't know how to avoid it. It's not intentional by either of us. This is a result of his deep scars of childhood.

But this night was different. I was able to step outside of myself and see his pain in a new way. I've been told by Emily numerous times that it's not me he's fighting, but the demons from the past. But this was the first time I was able to separate myself entirely and attempt to comfort him, rather than fight him, while he howled for two hours.

I was filled with sorrow for my Sweet Boy who cried in pain. I wanted to comfort him, but he saw me as the enemy, shouting, accusing, crying and blaming. But it wasn't me he was angry at. It was his past. I stayed by his side, being the target for his rage, listening to him, helping him as best as I could, giving nothing back but love and tenderness. I wanted him to know he wasn't alone and he was being heard.

The next morning I knew he would wake up, immediately apologize, be filled with shame because of his actions, and I was right. But I held no resentment this time, because I hadn't internalized any of it. I was able to provide the comfort and unconditional love he needed, for the first time. That whole day I was filled with wonderment and affection, feeling closer to him than I ever have before. We made sweet love as I took control of him, owned him, nurtured him, fed him my love and overwhelmed him with my presence. He gratefully and gladly submitted, welcoming my all encompassing being over him. I sucked him in and brought him home.

I feel certain we have reached a new place in our relationship. I'm looking forward to seeing Emily tomorrow and sharing with her all that has happened. I feel we've broken new ground and I'm ready for the next chapter in our love affair.

Our therapist has been a Godsend! Clearing away the pain, the confusion, the misunderstandings and the myths has been incredibly freeing. Recently, I feel myself letting go of all of the lifelong sorrow I had stored in my heart and opening myself to love.

The other piece to the puzzle has been taking this journey with S. He has been so willing to bear himself, not just to me, but to our therapist, and share his pain. As I've said in the past, he has a very hard time communicating. But with her, he opens up and she understands him immediately; not in what he says, but what he doesn't say. She seems to feel what he means, his intention, and works with both of us to help us understand one another in a beautiful way.

What surprised, no shocked me, was the open-mindedness with which she embraced our D/s relationship. She sees this as beautiful, helpful, and nurturing for us both. She can be blunt, so I'm sure she is genuine in her advice. But for this 60+ year old woman, she continues to surprise me with her open mindset.

She's made no comments about the punishment, neither positive nor negative, but seems to view the entire interaction as healthy and loving. I punish S very little, and always help him turn the punishment into a reassuring experience. I've never spanked him without twice as much love and comfort afterwards. For some time, I was deeply concerned that this relationship framework was unhealthy. Our therapist has reassured me that it is completely healthy, and even emotionally helpful and rewarding.

I would never want to harm my Sweet Boy; not physically, mentally, nor emotionally. Being what he needs in life, soothing his broken soul, has been the most rewarding experience I've ever known.

On a motorcycle, trust is everything. As a passenger behind S, two people on two wheels must work as one. There is no accommodation for error. Mistakes get people killed on motorcycles.

Behind the driver a passenger can only see over the driver's shoulder, peering around the helmet. Lean too far to the right or the left to get a better look at what's ahead, and the passenger can throw off the entire balance of the bike. Leaning to get a good look may make me feel better, but there is little I can do from the rear to change our direction.

Mounting the motorcycle I make a silent agreement with the driver to take care of me, to ride to the best of his ability to keep us safe, and hope to enjoy the ride. I won't enjoy a thing if I'm constantly second guessing from the rear seat.

I've learned I don't need to know what's ahead. I've learned that S is an incredibly skilled rider and all I need to do is mimic his movements. When we hit the twisty, windy mountain roads, I must trust him completely. Keeping my head directly behind his, my shoulders in line with his, leaning into the turns with him, straightening up as he does, holding on to him, but not so tightly that it restricts him, I ride blindly with complete faith.

We ride amazingly fast. If the turn has a speed sign of 30, we take it at 65. Passing 5 cars at a time over a double yellow line at 110, my heart climbs to my throat, but my body never gives an inch. I still mimic him, in sync, perfectly in tune with him and the bike.

The freedom that comes with this is exhilarating! My mind is clear, I need not think, I simply am. Trusting him completely, assured he knows the way, confident he is taking care of me, I can be free.

I imagine this is how he feels when he looks in my eyes and asks, "How can I please you, Mistress Tina?"

I was drowning. Too much pressure, I suppose. That's what S believes. So he stepped up, and pulled me into the lifeboat when I was going down. The sorrow was overwhelming, so much so that I was drowning in it.

After a few days, we settled back into our routine. S is so good at taking direction and it seems so natural to direct him. Recently, another local business owner, Randy, who wants to partner with us on a project, emailed S for a meeting. Of course S asked me to attend. During the meeting Randy continued to direct his conversation only to S. Often S would answer him, because our expertise is in different areas and he had the answers Randy was seeking. But S often looked to me for leadership. Funny thing was that Randy never realized it was me he had to please, and I would make the final decision, as I often do.

S trusts me. He trusts me with his personal belongings, his business, his life and his heart. He knows my devotion to him and he knows down in his soul that I would never harm him. He knows I'm honest. He trusts my intuition about people and my ability to read them and their motives. He knows that I won't hurt him and that I would never, ever let anyone else hurt him.

When I was suffering in my depressed state, I had to turn outward and find safety somewhere else. S recognized that and grasped my hand, pulling me back into the boat before I drowned. He then rowed me back to shore. He didn't do it because he needs me, or because he wants something from me. He did it because he saw me in need, because he's that kind of person, because he would do it for anyone who needed him. I had to trust him, the way he trusts me.

Reaching for the lifeboat was nearly impossible, because admitting weakness was something I thought a Domme couldn't do. Perhaps I need to let go of what I "think" a Domme is and just begin being myself.

"No matter what I say now you're only going to see me as defending her. Your mind is made up. You want to be the victim in this!"

S could never know how much those words hurt.

Since my 21 year old daughter came to visit last week she and I had been like two angry cats locked in a closet. S was in the middle, trying to stay unscathed. I was shocked when he continued to take her side, always trying to explain her behavior to me.

"I don't think that she meant to insult you. I think she just meant. . ."

"Why don't you care about me?" I shout. I could hear myself, and I sounded like a child.

When he remarked time and again to our friends how much she and I were alike, at first I found it complimentary. Later, when I saw the two of them laughing together, an unfamiliar pang hit me deep. Very deep. Jealousy had reared it's ugly head.

I'm rarely jealous with S. His devotion is so obvious that I just never have any reason to be concerned. Certainly he checks other women out, as do I. Being bisexual, women are beautiful creatures so me, and many times I fantasize about a stranger. So when S glances, or turns his head for a moment, I know he's just being human. The act of looking doesn't threaten me at all, because I know he's with me because he chooses to be. But this was different.

Soon the arguement waned, reignited, and the silence of frustration stood between us. I did all I could to find a resolution. I spoke gently, apologized, took ownership and responsibility for my mistakes. I tried to see things from his point of view. He was so hurt and felt so attacked, that I just couldn't seem to reach him. There we stood, after declaring my pain, curled inside myself and he silent in fear. I warned him I would reject him if he attempted to touch me.

At this juncture, my only weapon of defense was to withhold affection.

Giving affection would be submitting, rewarding bad behavior, succumbing, and perhaps needy and demeaning. I wanted to stay strong, in control, powerful.

He apologized over and over, but each apology came with the disclaimer that it was my fault, saying I had first attacked him. I tried to explain that true apologies stand alone and don't come with accusations. Finally he relented, and now we sit at the happy, lively taco joint, mired in frustration and fear, and the greatest pain of all, detachment.

How do I build the bridge?

In my mind I know what to do. Reach for his hand, reminding myself that he never means to hurt me. Remember all the arguements of the past and how he's really just a boy inside who desperatly needs love. Remember that I'm his Domme and I've vowed to be his love, his comfort, his peace.

I'm so frightened. What if this is a mistake? What if this is weakness, not strength? What if he sees this as a precedent to treat me this way again? What if he turns on me again and hurts me?

I look into his eyes, see his sadness, sorrow, longing and pain, and suddenly my hand doesn't seem so heavy. I reach out my hand gently to bridge the gap.

The truth is, I don't know what I'm doing. Because I have so many feelings running through me so often, I am simply scattered. My moods change often and with all of this being so new, I'm doing my best to define how I want to proceed. It's crucial that I only do what I'm comfortable with and what S is comfortable with, and I not let anyone else's definitions of Domme define me. I know who I am, but translating that concept into behavior is often confusing.




But these things I know are true:

1. I love S like I've never loved another human being ever in my life.

2. All I want is to be honest, intimate, loving and nurturing in my relationship with S.

3. I was born to be a caretaker and I love that role.

4. I am comfortable being a leader and I take this role most seriously.

5. I am a born protector. I can and will destroy anyone who harms those I love. S will be safe for the rest of his life in my care, and no one will ever hurt him again if I can prevent it.

6. Being in charge is not the same as being in control. I'm only in control of my behavior. Not my emotions, thoughts, or desires. How I act upon these things is my decision. I am only in control of myself, no one else.

7. S is a blessing in my life and I vow to treat him as such.

8. I have no desire to harm, punish, or inflict pain on anyone. I won't do it.

9. I believe love is all I need to be a Domme. I believe love is a wonderful motivator.

10. We all make mistakes. This is new to both of us, so mistakes are bound to be made. Learning from our mistakes makes them simply life lessons, not mistakes.

11. I am worthy of love, and so is S.

12. I am intelligent, fierce, energetic, vivacious, incredibly sexual, joyful, and exuberant. I really am fun to be around, I have tons of love for everyone I know, and since I've met S, I find many people very drawn to me. I am a good human being and I enjoy being Tina.

13. S loves me.

14. I can trust S with everything I am and everything I have. He doesn't ever want to harm me.

15. I am incredibly lucky to be in this relationship. I hold it with the greatest regard and value it and S enormously. I am blessed.

So that's what I know. If I work from there, well I have great hopes of everything working out just fine. I just have to remember what is true and not listen to the doubt that rears it's ugly head.

Work from my heart, not from my head. I learned that from S.

On one of the first mornings sleeping with S in my bed, I had a dream shortly before waking. I had dreamed of walking with S on a beach along the Pacific, hand in hand. He pulled his hand away, turned into a seagull, and began to fly. I stood locked on the shore and watched him glide about freely. He flew back to me.

"Why aren't you flying with me?" he asked.

"I can't fly," I replied sadly.

"Yes you can. Stretch out your arms and fly with me."

He seemed so certain, and I trusted him so, that I did as he said. I reached out my arms, turned my face upwards, and suddenly I was a seagull and began to fly.

We gleefully flew up and down the coast, side by side, occasionally touching our wingtips. Then, after some time, we flew over the ocean together, into the sun.

I think of that dream often, and how I awoke, telling him of the dream, sobbing in his arms. He held me close, and seemed to be quietly understanding everything I was trying so hard to explain.

During those first few months together I often told S that I had his hand, and I was pulling him to the other side to our future together. He was so stuck in his relationship with his needy wife, tied down by obligation, commitment and promises made from insecurity. He wanted to fulfill his duty, his vow, and somehow retain a shred of honor to his word he had given at such a young age, so many years ago.

I told him to hang onto his wives hand, and that I had his hand, and that I had the strength, determination, and sheer will to pull us all through this to the other side. The side where our lives go on, and we all find peace with this decision that he and I had made to be together.

His divorce will be final soon. His wife will be taken care of financially for the rest of her life, and compared to most divorced women, she has been one of the very, very lucky ones. Every need has been addressed, and the only thing she has lost is her caretaker and friend. But even she has found peace with this decision, and is finding comfort in a life of her own.

Now S and I have our life together, and we are ready to leave the coastline and soar out over the ocean.

My father once told me of his marriage to my step-mother that the secret to staying happy in a relationship is that you can't both go crazy at the same time.

Perhaps there are times when S takes the lead, and I must trust him, and simply follow direction when I am stuck in the sand of my limited understanding. Then there are times when he must be able to rely on my strength, and allow me to carry him to a place of peace.

He's very good at knowing which direction to head. I'm very good at getting us there.

If you are reading this right now, regardless of who you are, if you are not my Dom, I don't trust you. S is the only living, breathing person I trust. Not because he is my Dom and has trained me to trust only him. Quite the contrary! Before him, I trusted no one. He is my Dom because he made it into my heart, and earned my trust. Only he can dominate me because only he has earned my trust, and only he can master me. If a person cannot be trusted, then they cannot know me, really know me. To know the true me, the person I hide deep inside, is a privilege no one has ever had before.

When I say S knows me, well the truth is, he knows only what I've shared. Certainly he hasn't heard all of my stories, nor my whole life story. He doesn't need to, nor is that even realistic. What he knows is how my mind works, what is in my heart, my joys, my fears, my hopes, my beliefs. He knows my desires and my needs, oft times better than I know myself. He knows this because I have opened up and shared with him with complete abandon, showing him all of me, naked from the inside out.

In my lifetime I have been raped twice, beaten by numerous men, defiled in a drunken state from time to time, and been lied to countless times. I've been robbed, held at gun point, and abandoned. I've been manipulated, coerced, and tricked. Why the fuck would I trust anyone? And why would I trust a man? I would rather eat you alive, rip out your heart and watch you lie upon the ground, gasping for your last breath, with fear in your eyes. Trust a man? And why would I even want to trust? Why?

All of those questions I can't really answer, but this one thing I hold true. I know I need to trust, and I need to be dominated. I needed to find a real man to meet these needs, and now I have. S is worthy of my trust, worthy of my praise, worthy of my devotion. I have found with him a peace I had never known. Perhaps one day I will understand "why" better, but for now I am content with just knowing I do.

Trust used to be a four-letter word for me. Now, it has saved my soul.