Author: CreativeOne

Michael comes home after being gone on a work trip for five forever days to find me, an eager little submissive waiting for him, craving attention.  He knows from my many feverish emails to him while he was gone that I am longing to be tied up, be spanked.  I know from one look at him that he is tired, drained from the trip.

But my sweet Daddy doesn’t want to disappoint me, so he tells me he is going to put me over his lap “after we watch TV for a little bit.”

His voice is flat, so I express some hesitation.  “Please don’t think you have to if you’re not up for it.”

I am hoping he will say something like, of course I’m up for it. But he doesn’t.  He says, “Okay, then I probably won’t.  But I reserve the right to change my mind.”

So that’s that.  I mentally let it go.  Poor tired man, he slips in and out of sleep during the show we’re watching, I stay tight against him, and touch him constantly so he knows I am good with him.  After the show is over I ask, “What would you like to do?  Ready for bed?”

“What I’d really like to do is tie you up in this rope,” he says over a yawn.  Well, he may want it in theory, but it is clear he doesn’t want it in reality.

But I don’t want to say no, it would be like refusing to submit.  So I say, Let’s go lie down.   Once we are snuggled up together, I ask again, okay so really, what do you want to do?

He still has that whatever tone when he says he wants to tie me up.  So I challenge him to make me submit.

He says, “I thought you had no choice.”

“Well, apparently I do because it’s not happening.”  Why there is a sarcastic tone in my voice, I don’t know.

He sighs, doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word.  He’s clearly not going to tie me up.  I want to cry, our lovely dynamic has collapsed.

I don’t want to let this frustration be the winner of the evening, I don’t like that it has become some kind of wall between us.  I want so badly to stay connected with him, so I attempt to put the feelings banging around inside me into words.  I say I really do want to submit to him, but I am finding it difficult to tell his true desire.

“Submitting is only half the equation,” I add.  “There has to be some dominance on the other side.”

He does not argue, just lies there.  My frustration grows.

David Deida would say that in enlightened sex, the masculine element provides the “directionality” of the sex, while the feminine element provides the depth and fullness of it.  The woman, he says, is the ocean, full of life and flow, yielding as water.  The man, he says, is like the boat sailing the ocean, deciding which way to go, maneuvering the boat to a specific destination.  If the man doesn’t feel any sense of direction, the woman cannot surrender to him, cannot carry him to where he wants to go.

I tell Michael I understand that the submission side is easy, I can submit whether I am in the mood or not.  The only thing I cannot do is submit to unclear desires.  He owns the much more difficult side of things.  There’s no way one can be dominant if one isn’t in the mood.  I tell him I think that he might essentially be too much of gentleman at heart to do the 24/7 Dominant/submissive relationship.

Again, he doesn’t argue, says something about me being right.  I don’t know if I’m right.   Maybe it is something else altogether.  David Deida says men also seek freedom, do not like to be constrained.  They want the freedom to dominate a woman and do what they want with her.  But if it becomes an obligation (as in a D/s situation), then it is no longer freedom, it is an obligation that loses its appeal.

I say I’m going to get up and start to rise from the bed.  He grabs my wrist.

“You want to know what I really want?” he says.  I say I do.   Then he says, “I want you to worship my ass.  I want your tongue on me.”

My heart jumps.  He has never asked me for this before.  I had shown him a web page once, a list of ways submissives can serve their dominants, and “ass worship,” or kneeling to lick his anus, was on that list.  It was my way of telling him I’d be open and willing to perform such service.  But I didn’t know whether the idea had appealed to him.  Now I know.

He kneels on the edge of the bed, bent over, and I kneel on the floor and gently begin licking my way up the crack of his ass.  He moans immediately.  Another taboo to embrace, and oh embrace it I do.  His ass is so responsive and I go into this otherworldy state while I am licking him, kissing, sucking, plunging my tongue into the hole.  I am having some kind of deep communion with his ass, his “secret spot,” he is so delicious wonderful satisfying to taste, and I actually go into some kind of pleasure trance, my mind all blissed out.  I love hearing his moans, I love love love feeling so intimate close to him.  I do not want to stop, but he says, “Now I do you.”

I give a giddy little laugh as I climb up onto the bed, feeling caught on a wave of innocent hungry love for each other.  Garden of Eden-style love. We seem to be compelled to offer up every single part of ourselves for the fevered exploration by the other.  And so he returns the favor, tongue sweet on my ass, fingers going back in my pussy, and I go off into a different kind of heaven, receiving, surrendering.  Oh yes, this is the root chakra, the source of all our life energy, all our sexuality, I am letting go and opening.  And I am so deeply moved by this moment, the way we lavish love all over each other, as if we want to get inside each other, no barriers at all.

When he’s done with me, he finally drifts off to sleep.  I, however, am nowhere near sleeping, I am too acutely aware of the feeling of whirling love throughout my body.  I seem to be able to feel the spinning energy of the chakras in my lower body, almost as if I am in the midst of one long slow-motion orgasm.  I feel soaked with warmth and light, and I ride the feeling for a long beautiful while.

I think of Deida again, who talked about not surrendering to your lover, but surrendering to love through your lover.  And I am convinced that is what is happening with us.  I somehow didn’t fully understand what that meant before this night.  I’d been so caught up in thinking he had to condition me so I could stay in a ‘subspace’ kind of trance in which my submission was automatic.  I thought that if I couldn’t sustain that mindset all the time, if I didn’t truly see him as my dominant Daddy all the time, then we’d be playing a silly role play game that would lose its spiritual power to transform me.

But tonight, caught up in this shimmering dissolving sensation of love, the framework I was trying so hard to impose on our D/s fell away.  I know he really is my Daddy, but not just Daddy, what a mistake it would be to narrow it down just to that.  He is also Michael and sweet baby and lover and husband and friend.  There is plenty of room for him to be all those things at once, and each is always there, and it’s just a matter of focus on which arises in the moment.

That is, it’s a matter of his focus, his direction, his intention, his desire.  Whether I am in a trance-like subspace or not, I am the waiting sea, always in a state of flow, always ready to surrender to him and the love between us.  My submission is not contingent on a special trance, nor on him conditioning me with particular routines.  I hope he will tie me up when he wants, spank me if he wants, do all those things that make my mind go smooth and my pussy swell hot and red and wanting.  But I don’t need those things like I thought I did.  My submission is his by right at any time, he is the one who unlocked me and opened me, I belong to him.  We don’t have to plan it, or sign a contract, make some kind of prior agreement on what it will look like.  I can trust it will unfold in the moment, through its own spontaneous power, like it has all along.  If he truly wants to take me, control me, my heart will know, my body will know, and I will let go.  And I will surrender.