Ramble: I Saw Her Again Last Night/Nadu For Meditation (Kind OF NSFW)

I saw her again, the little girl that resides within. The brat, the ten-year-old, the playful, naughty, mischevious me.

“Daddy, I am the boss now.” I said.

“Really?” he watches me, bemused.

“Mmhmm, ‘fraid so. New law, just came out today.” my voice is almost child-like in tone. Gone is the adult. Somehow, somewhere, I have regressed, at least for the moment.

Oh shit, the Dom stare.

“Is that right, kitten?” his tone is almost threateneing.

“Yep” I squeak,”but if you break the law, you gotsa get.. puunished”, my reference is heavily on Star Wars’ Boss Nass. He smiles.

“So what law is that, exactly?” he asks, stepping closer to me. My heart picks up the pace and my breath catches.

“The one that says kitten is the boss”. Indignant to the very end.

His teeth graze my neck as I feel his breath behind my ear.

“Is she, really?” he whispers.

I gasp and grab atthe table. Anything for some stability right now.

“No” I whisper, trying to resist spontaneously combusting on the spot.

He bites my shoulder softly.

“No, what?” he growls, replacing the bite with soft, warm kisses. He feels good.

“No, Sir”. I felt him smile against me.

He left for the bathroom and a short while later he returned. By that time, I’d cocoooned myself in my black fuzzy blanket and was pretending, loudly, to be asleep.

“You know that doesn’t work,” he sighed.

I’m going to be a beautiful butterfly! Wait.. wait… umm… zzzz”. I heard him giggle.

“And I’m a magician” he whispered.

“What?”

The blanket lifted away with a flourish and he shrugged, watching me.

“Ta-da!” he laughed, tossing the blanket aside.

I glowered at him. Not funny.

What ensued was nice but that really was all it was, just nice. I needed more. I wanted to play. I mean sure, there was a bit of biting and biting is always great (yes it is, yes it is!) but I needed more. Not just a taste, I needed to lose complete control. I was in that ugly, tense, anxious place, and my body cried for catharsis, it called for release.

Sex is great and fine and fun, but let’s be real here, BDSM is the difference between a Madeira a Victoria sponge. Sometimes you need the jam and cream. Quite literally, in some cases.

I become the worst version of myself when I need to play, I know I do. I become tense, angsty and irritable. I’m in control, too in control, and I almost need someone else to take control for a while to allow me to regulate again. I need someone to hurt me to let all of the stress and tension out, but in a good, safe and consensual way.

I become guarded and distrustful, Anyone who attempts to assert themselves over me probably has their own interests at heart.

You can’t handle me, human, Don’t try.

My head tugs and pulls between now and then, wants and needs. Since Monday, I’ve come to realise who I am, all on my own.

“I just don’t understand it. You’re telling us you have this anxiety, but you’re here, you’re smiling and you’re so articulate” the disability expert said.

The memory lives in my mind now, and I can only smile.

Yes, I am. I’m articulate, I’m friendly, I’m bold, I’m confident. Undeniably, people seem to warm to me, simply for being me. Bold, confident, outgoing me. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t have anxiety. Crushing anxiety even, sometimes!

Of course, the other side effect of that strong personality is that an overwhelming majority of Dominants who were one interested were intimidated by me. The’d realise that I was a challenge and, realising that they were in too deep, they;d back away.

I need a strong character to handle me, and perhaps, in an odd way, that was the draw to my husband. It was less love at first sight and more of a game of brinkmanship. I’d eyeball him and, rather than backing down and giving in, he’d eyeball me back and dig his heels in, and I’c cock my head in curiosity and confusion.

That’s new for me, that’s very new. I was in awe of him.

But now that curiosity and confusion seems to have been replaced with boredom. Sessions get cancelled on a regular basis and that leaves me, bored, contemplative and confused.

The collar that was once worn with pride is now collecting dust and the mark that it once left has almost faded away. I can’t remember the last time we played, I really can’t. There always seems to be something; tiredness, a messy bedroom, a general disinterest in play.

Sometimes, I almost feel like in falling into the world of BDSM first, I superseded my peers in the “finding what feels good” factor, and that includes my potential suitors. Drinking and smoking? No thankyou, I have BDSM. Drugs? But children, there’s BDSM. Sex? Why? There’s BDSM!

It’s easy to forget that it’s different strokes for different folks, but drink makes me dizzy and bossy, drugs have never interested me and.. well.. why have vanilla sex when there’s BDSM? Why do you want to watch football and drink beer and watch lazy Saturday TV? There’s BDSM to be having!

Often, playtime happens on my watch, not his. I’m the instigator, the initiator, the organiser. That makes me feel like I’m topping from the bottom, always, and like he’s not really interested.

Last night, I assumed the Gorean “Nadu” position to meditate. There’s something so beautiful about it, so present and free. Personally, I’m not crazy for Gorean slave positions, I find them a little bit excessive and I’ve never considered myself to be a slave, anyway. If I have to remember a dozen or so positions on top of all of the other stuff that I need to remember for day-to-day living, well, then you’ve got another thought coming.

I knelt for a while in only my underwear. Soft choral music played in the background with candlelight and insense filling the room. You’d think, for many a Dominant, your submissive kneeling in Nadu in only her smalls would be a sure-fire way to kickstart a session, but apparently that was not so.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Meditating, submissive-style” I responded, a wry smile spread across my face.

“Okay then,” he said, “I’ll leave you to your stuff.”

And just like that, he left.

3 thoughts on “Ramble: I Saw Her Again Last Night/Nadu For Meditation (Kind OF NSFW)

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  1. Oh Elena…. 😦 Few things hurt more than not feeling wanted by your partner. I’m so sorry you’re going through this!!! I went through this with my husband early on in living together. Wish I could hug you or do something to fix this. Makes me want to cry… I remember all too well. Hugs & love to you, my friend!

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      1. We all need a place to talk about ourselves and get the support we need. Nothing wrong with changing focus.

        To the other part….. I’m so sorry, Honey!!! I don’t know what to say to help. Just know I’m here…. big hugs.

        Like

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