Turning Off the Static; Or, the Peace of Sexual Submission

Electric Energy 

The morning after my “I am sexual submissive” revelation, I wake with new identity and a new body.  It doesn’t feel like the normal body I am accustomed to inhabiting, a body often numb and easy to ignore as I go about my day.  It has now been jolted awake by an influx of electric energy (thank you, sexual polarity) and hot blood.

As I lie under the blankets in bed and watch my husband button up his shirt with his talented fingers while gazing at me, I feel warm and heavy and full everywhere.  Blood is engorging me – between my legs, in my belly, my breasts – making my skin hot and sensitive to delicious waves of anticipation as I wait for my goodbye kiss.

We do not mention what happened the night before.  I’d think it was a dream if I didn’t feel so profoundly woke up.

After he leaves for work, I lift my unfamiliar body from the bed, and walk around the house trying to get used to the feeling.  I settle down with my coffee in the living room, staring out the window for a long while in a kind of half-smiling daze.  I do not see the twisty oak branches that stretch over the house across the street; I only see the sexual images dancing through my mind.

I finally open my laptop, and write Michael that I feel strangely exposed by the way he claimed me the night before.  I tell him he how he laid me bare, then gave me a new identity.

“I don’t know where this D/s path will lead,” I continue, “or what shape it will take or how far to push it.  I don’t even know for sure how you feel about it today. I just hope the dynamic is also good for you, and that you are willing to keep exploring in that direction.  I realized very powerfully last night that I don’t want it just to be a game or a role play.  I want to literally turn my body over to you, place myself in your wonderful loving hands.”

I do not do anything but wait, in that chair, until his response comes a few hours later:

Oh, make no mistake, our experiences were equally deep and profound.  I’ll admit that I didn’t know quite what to expect going in, .. a hot little sex game maybe, but ‘taking’ you on our couch last night was a true revelation, .. a dizzying, mind-bending, altered state revelation that somehow, impossibly, seemed to shift our soulmateship™ to another higher plane, .. I’ll never forget the ‘knowing’ expression in those eyes of yours as you gave yourself to me so completely.

I always thought of myself as a nice normal guy, sexually and otherwise, so last night was both thrilling and unsettling, .. I so ‘got off’ on the power dynamic, the absolute control, the incredible surge of sexual energy derived from ‘owning’ you, .. your blind obedience to my every request, .. I had no idea I would revel in that power so totally, didn’t know I had that ‘edge’ lurking inside, .. but there it is, undeniable, .. gets me so hard even now.  So, shake-off that “strangely exposed” feeling and know that you are well loved and safe and in exactly the right hands, .. you belong to me.

Sexual Smoke

After hearing back from him, I am galvanized.  We are in agreement, I am going to continue in submission, he is going to dominate me.  I am not just a new me, this is now an entirely new relationship, a new us.  I have given up control of it, of me, and together we are stepping into the unknown.  Suddenly, I have no idea what our evenings will be like now, all our familiar routines have gone up in a puff of sexual smoke.  I feel excited and anxious, barely able to stand the slow drag of time until he comes home.

That evening as it grows dark, I hear the rumble of his car pull into the garage and my heart leaps.  He comes through the door and I become jumpy and giggly, unsure how to act, how do submissive women act?  I don’t know the answer, and my uncertainty grows as he kisses me hello.  Is that who I really want to be?  Am I just kidding myself?  Is this just a stupid game?  Will it harm our lovely and kind relationship of mutual respect?

He can sense my disquiet as he kisses me hello.  He takes my hand and pulls me to the couch to sit and says, “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

I lean onto his chest, spill out all my questions. He laughs as he listens, he is sweet and calm and confident.

“This feels right to me,” he says. “Does it feel right to you?”

I cannot deny that it does.  Beneath all the questions I cannot yet answer, there is no doubt this is what I want.

He tells me take off my pants.  My mind immediately calms, and I obey.  He tells me to open my legs.  I obey.  He shoves his fingers inside me again, stirs them around.  I lay there, allow, yes.

Again, I am amazed at how calming it is to just do what he tells me to do.  To simply obey is like throwing a switch that turns off the tension around sex in my mind, a tension I didn’t even know was there until now. I never realized how pervasively I have always felt mental “static” around sex, created by the constant analyzing of my own mind:  Am I in the mood?  Do I feel like doing it?  If he asks, should I say no or yes?  Will he feel hurt if I say no?  If I’m in the mood, should I initiate?  What if I initiate and he doesn’t want to?  What if I initiate and he can’t get it up, will I be responsible for making him feel bad about himself?  Is he going to initiate if he wants it, or have I made him reluctant with too many rejections?  How are we going to negotiate this transaction?  Such questions with uncertain answers generate non-stop mental noise and insecurity around what should be a simple loving act.

Now, I am finding that to just submit shuts down the questions, turns off the static.  I am released from the uncomfortable grip of my judging and analyzing mind, released into mindless obedience, released into peace, into pleasure. Turns out a submissive woman doesn’t have to act a certain way at all; submissive women is able to just be.

Later, as we lie pressed tight together in bed, we talk about how all this seems too good to be true.  It is such a radical departure from the rules both of us have always followed about consensual sex.  It feels like some referee is going to come in and yell foul, or send us off to be punished.

But no, we are making are own rules now, following our instincts, following love, following peace.

“I can do anything I want to you,” he says with a tone of wonder.

“You can do anything you want,” I repeat.

It feels like we have an amazing secret that wraps us in a warm, protected bubble as we fall asleep.  Yes, this feels right to me.  Yes, yes, yes