In trying to write an introductory post, giving a narrative feels almost like nailing jello to a wall. In so many ways, every week, every day, sometimes even hour to hour i am shocked at the feeling of velocity… of the depth and reality of our bond and of Her hold over me strengthening, and growing, and changing. The true joy is of knowing that that is all by Her design. i don’t need a narrative. i just need to trust in Hers. And so, this is more about snapshots of my reality than it is a story.
As Mistress explained, we had met online at a time when we were both experiencing the death throes of our own relationships, both trying to stay afloat, and both aching for connection. In sharing our stories with each other, the spark of an incredible attraction flared to life; to someone who saw me more clearly than i saw myself, and Her drawing power from someone who instinctively recognized and aligned himself adoringly to the power within Her. A brief few weeks of flurrying emails, but with an explosive intensity.
But an intensity that we pulled back from. In myself i sensed the unwelcome type of desperation. A need to be seen and accepted by someone, anyone, who demanded my submission. It was the product of years of running on fumes, a kind of frantic joy at feeling desired, the kind that doesn’t really honor anyone or anything.
But.
We knew our connection was something special. Something unique. We fit together in ways that were almost impossibly perfect. And so, we stayed in touch, and a true friendship bloomed. We rooted for each other as we navigated the mutual traumas of us both having lives we had spent years trying to make work fall apart. And the value of being able to turn to Her and ask for a shoulder to lean on after a hard week, and Her feeling wonderfully free to call on me for support as She needed, anytime, anywhere… it kept me sane. She kept me sane. And we, more and more, learned each other. What moved us, our passions, our interests. The kinds of things we hoped to find in life. She was impossibly strong, and being called a friend was a true, great privilege.
And i slowly recovered. As i began to realize i was in a place to consider making new connections… i didn’t risk re-approaching Her to ask if She was interested. i think, in my heart, i recognized that i was about to embark on a long process of fixing myself before i felt “whole” again, before i felt worthy. i envisioned a years-long journey of very slowly getting to know people, making mistakes, licking my wounds, growing, trying and failing, before finally being complete enough to truly serve. And i didn’t want to make that anyone else’s problem. Knowing that She sought a strong dynamic of true surrender, total domination, i simply felt that She was out of my league, and i couldn’t bear the notion of asking Her for something that i knew i could not perfectly provide.
But… She knew better. She knows me better than i know myself. And so She brought Her will to bear on me… and my soul knelt. It started light and playful, just a way for us both to express that side of ourselves again in a safe environment. But the notion of it just being “play” didn’t last long. i fell deep, and hard. She then made it crystal clear that She wanted to guide me in rebuilding my life, that the work that i had yet to do wasn’t a flaw in Her eyes, it was an opportunity. For Her to construct Her ideal servant, Her ideal boy, with my help, from the ground up. And, with joy… i gave myself to it. To Her. Thrilling at knowing that She sets the plan, the framework, the rules to follow. Consenting with an open heart to being molded, shaped, trained to Her specifications. And with every freedom ceded, every surrender made without struggle, every new rule or stricture, every opportunity She gives me to please Her, to obey…
i realize, more and more, that this is what i was born for. Not just to belong to someone. To belong to Her.
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