Drifting away

It’s not possible, not possible. So much potential just slipping through our fingers. There is no way for us to make 24/7 dominance and submission work – and we are so talented at it. But there are other needs. The daily round, work, independence, separate homes. T needs time to dream himself into being again. There is so much blocked up, that may never be released, so much hurt that dare not speak. And whatever submission I offer is not enough to change things for him. I can dig his garden, wash his sheets, strive, strive to please him, knowing I will fail somewhere and be over his knee for the stinging smacks that are our soundtrack. It has been the rhythm of a year together. But it can’t hold us.

What beauty there is in the moment when the pain becomes too much, my mind beholds the certainty that I will be taken beyond what I can bear and the pleading and writhing starts. What pleasure he took in Lording that moment. What hidden pulses came alive to that energy in his swinging arm as he spanked me beyond endurance and witnessed my undoing. But there is no place for it now. What I need is a deep unravelling of my will and he is not able to provide it, try as we might.

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