Soul Submissive

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.

I felt very, very small. I sat down in the closet as he yelled from the living room. Beginning to cry, all I could mutter was, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. . . " It was all I had left.

Walking into the living room, nearly crawling, head hung as low as I could get it without falling forward, I lay my head at his feet and repeated, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. . . " It was all I could offer.

He immediately reached for me, and told me to sit beside him on the couch. Doing as I was told, I kept my head low, showing him with all that I had that I was as non-confrontational as possible. He was so gentle; I was so small.

It doesn't matter how this all came to be. Just that perhaps this is the best place for me. At least for now.

I really am sorry.

After reading countless blog posts, never have I understood the purpose of humiliation in the D/s relationship. I understand the feelings it brings, but I never knew why that would be necessary. When I feel submissive, it seems that it is usually by choice.

These last few months I've pushed S to discuss emotional issues more than he is accustomed to doing. I wanted to discuss each hurt feeling as it came up, so as to work out any issues and get them behind us, before coming to haunt us later. I wanted a clean slate, perfect canvas, to display my love for him.

While realizing how painful this was for him to be scrutinized so often, I believed I was doing the right thing, for both of us. I assumed this was some sort of housecleaning, and we would both grow from this.

Today, after one of these discussions had occurred before bed last night, we were gently talking about how he felt. He shared that often I say little things, or do little things, that hurt his feelings, but he just assumes I never meant to hurt him, and let's those things slide by. He understood that I'm not that sort of person, and he asked me to just be more gentle and loving when I find such fault in him.

Then came the reality of how wrong I've been.

I realized in a momentary rush that I had been so arrogant in thinking that my way was the only way. I had been trying to eliminate future issues by "managing" his behavior. So terrified that I would let something go that would somehow come back to hurt me, as I had done in my failed marriage, I had been pushing, instead of being understanding.

Humiliation filled me. I was awash with guilt, shame, and dismay. I couldn't look S in the eye, and felt so unworthy of his forgiveness, love, and touch. He reached for me in spite of my flaws, and wanted to comfort me.

Then came the connection between us. Passion consumed us both, and I threw myself open for him. Gently, firmly, he took me, and made love to me, while I whimpered "I'm so sorry," over and over. When he finished, I asked him if I could cum for him.

He sucked one breast and squeezed my nipple on the other. I rubbed my clit furiously, feeling the humiliation wash over me and submitting to him in a way I had never done before. The climax was cleansing for me and the best gift I could give to him. I wanted so much to bare myself completely, to submit, to relent, to bow down and give him all I had inside willingly. I had nothing to hide behind; no intelligence, no clothing, no arrogance, no virtue, no piety, no righteousness.

He held me as my body shuttered and shook from the orgasm, enjoying the gift I had presented to him in my humiliation. Through his grace, I have found the ability to bare my soul to him, and still be forgiven.

Grace is not earned. It is a gift.