Soul Submissive

"You want to get in my head, don't you? You always seem to be watching me, analyzing me. It makes me uncomfortable. It seems your studying me."

When S says this, he's suspicious, fearful, and accusing. What my Sweet Boy doesn't realize is that I mean to do this from love. I'm not trying to "get in his head" to hurt him, but to better understand his needs.

S cannot communicate well.

More often than not, when I ask a question he is unable to answer verbally. Often he cannot even respond physically. He simply stares at me. Occasionally he can't even look in my direction. From time to time he will brush his fingertips against me, looking away. Other times he will grunt, "Hmmm?" in a sweet, curious way. I'm learning to take what he can give.

What we've learned in therapy and through many, many discussions, is that he's not ignoring me. He's trying to formulate the "proper" answer, so as to prevent disappointing me. In the past when I became angry due to this huge misunderstanding on my part, he felt like a huge failure and the feelings of inadequacy overwhelmed him. Once that happened he would withdraw, sometimes for days, into a cave of fear.

As his Domme I mean to coax him gently out of this cave and assure him that I won't punish him for this. I don't think this fear will ever completely leave him, although I hope it does. It's been embedded so deeply that it's become part of his character now. What my Sweet Boy doesn't need is punishment. He needs acceptance.

The hardest part of being S's Domme is knowing what he needs and when he needs it. Imagine someone with little to no facial expression most of the time, a monotone voice, withdrawn into his world of work. When he occasionally laughs out loud, or cries with ecstasy, I feel this enormous sense of victory. I know he needs to safely express himself and to be received with love and praise.

My method for "coaxing" is to consume him with my body in intimate moments. I wrap myself around him, lie on top of him, hold him with my strong hands, and whisper questions in his ear. I often feed him answers and encourage him to respond verbally. I make the questions easy, the answers obvious, and help him find the words. The more often he answers, the more praise he receives. I love praising him! I love kissing his sweet, sweet face over and over, offering him my nipple, stroking his cheek and telling him he's such a good boy!

To torture S is simple:

Ask impossible questions in anger
Demand answers now
Withdraw and withhold love and affection
Tell him he's failed
Tell him he's inadequate, inferior or unworthy
Physically punish him without comfort
Refuse comfort at any time he seeks it
Shout at him
Leave without saying goodbye, giving a kiss, and saying when I'll return
Leaving him forever


I'm a hot head with a horrible temper. I'm learning to control that so as to never even brush the edges of these events with S. I don't want him to ever anticipate this will be an end result of any of our encounters.

Some things are off limits. For us, these are.

I see my Sweetheart struggling. I see him wavering between the two sides he sees in himself; the strong man and the weak boy.

Spiritually, mentally and physically S is very, very strong. He is sure of what he believes about life, people and the universe. Mentally he is amazing; the smartest person I've ever met. He's brilliant, creative, and an intuitive problem solver. He makes the impossible look simple and easy. Physically he works his body to it's limits regularly at the gym. He eats right, indulges a little, and works hard for it.

Emotionally he has been stifled since childhood. The minute his mother slapped him in the face at age 3 and locked him in the closet until he "behaved", he stopped growing. He simply "acted" to survive, so his sole caretaker would not abandon him. He lived knowing that if weren't a "good boy", she would walk out on him and he would be alone.

In his marriage he reenacted this scene day after day, for over 23 years. His wife was abusive, insulting and demanding. Needy and sickly, she believed the entire world revolved around her and S's sole purpose in life was to care for her. He bought into this system believing he was worthy of nothing better. He feared she would abandon him if he didn't meet her needs, perhaps through death due to her many illnesses. He would be alone and it would be because he wasn't a "good" husband. Now not only was his well being in jeopardy, but another person's life hung in the balance.

Stepping out of this role into a relationship with me broke many of those notions, but not for long. He still struggles with what he believes he deserves in life, abandonment, punishment, pain, and weakness.

It is my mission to clear away the negative self image and help him grow into the amazing man I already see him as being. I will dispel the countless untruths, one at a time.

I have the inner strength to build this man up. But first, I have to break the spell of unworthiness.

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.

Last evening, S and I went to a concert together. He had been busy all weekend, and was really tired. The concert was in a very relaxed setting, and the music very mellow. At one point I looked over, and my sweet Dom was so sleepy.  For the next hour, every time I looked over at him, his eyes were closed and he was leaning on me, nearly dozing off. I decided that we should leave at intermission, because I felt like this concert I drug him to was boring for him, and I felt guilty keeping him up when he was so tired. It was a long ride home, and even though I was driving, he was still being inconvenienced. I simply want to meet his needs.

My mistake was trying to think for him, and I gently insisted we leave. When he said no, I didn't leave well enough alone. I thought I knew better.

Truly, I am a very fortunate Sub. Because on the way home, when S expressed his displeasure with my insistence, he was gentle with me. It is far more important that to him that I understand why I need to submit, rather than just mindlessly submitting. S loves that I am strong, independent, and intelligent, and counts on those aspects of my personality in many ways. But a submissive woman knows she cannot attempt in anyway to overpower or out-think her Dom; this is unacceptable in every instance.

When I realized how I had behaved, I felt the rush of shame wash over me. I literally felt cold throughout my body and the pang of fear clutched my stomach like an iron fist. A cold sweat broke out over my trembling body and I could barely speak. Clutching the wheel, I drove towards home, barely able to watch the road, and completely unable to look at S in the passenger seat. I thought of the ride to the concert, the way we laughed and joked, the way we touched each other and stimulated one another sexually as we flew up the highway. Now in the dark car, maneuvering through the traffic, all I could feel was deep disgrace.

No physical punishment awaited me; S knew my shame is genuine and that is punishment enough. When he asked me if I wanted to continue this relationship, tears welled up in my eyes. He then asked, "Who is making the decisions here? Is it me, or is it you?" I could barely breathe the answer, "You. . ." and choke back my self disgust. He gently took my hand, and reiterated how much he cared, how he wanted me to be myself, and if this wasn't going to work for me, that he would make the necessary adjustments. I begged him to not give up on me, with the few words I could speak, and promised that my desire to serve was sincere and that I would try harder.

Saying goodbye in my driveway, and not knowing when I would see him again, I longed for him to stay, to comfort me and ease me through my shame. He did not, for many reasons, but he directed me to not dwell on the subject. It was done, and if I had learned my lesson, then it was behind us. I promised to not dwell, and gathered up all of my strength and walked in the door to my home.

I cried myself to sleep, ashamed, and heartbroken. Waking this morning, I faced the day with a renewed determination to better serve this wonderful man whom I love so dearly.