I’ve written about respect, about fear, but I don’t recall writing about trust. After all it is the other bedrock of BDSM, of a D/s relationship, as a matter of fact, any kind of relationship: respect and trust. For me they come hand in hand, once I feel that the other person respect me, I almost automatically trust that person. So many times I’ve burnt myself, you would think that I would have bigger trust issues. I don’t. My issues are rather I trust in people too easily. My trust will be broken only after they have proven me wrong. My dumb logic is, if somebody is going to hurt you, they would do it anyways, sooner or later, no matter how long you spend building up that trust. So I rather it be sooner. I make reckless decisions, I am reckless.
I had learned a lot about myself after I went on my BDSM journey. I had always said that I am completely capable of separating sex and feelings. It is still true, in part, I am completely capable of separating vanilla sex and feelings. The sex between Dominants and submissives? Not so much. For me the D/s kind is so much more intimate, and when it stops being intimate, I know the D/s part isn’t there anymore, and there is just the kinky sex left. And for me, without the D/s dynamic, no matter how kinky some sex act is, it’s still vanilla to me. I’ve also learned about that I might not be that stupid after all, that I would straight away trust someone with all of me. What I did, before I met Sir Atticus, was that I did trust my play partners, but only my body. The other parts of me, I guarded closely and most of the time it wasn’t even hard. One more thing I’ve learned, is that I might have not be designed to do D/s as sessioning only. BDSM, it is an itch that I can’t scratch myself, but it is also so much more than that to me. I never liked the word lifestyle because it’s still not a choice for me. I crave BDSM like I do oxygen. I need it in my life. But the form in how I was to get it, having play/session partners only might not be my thing. Not now that I got a taste of what BDSM can potentially be, when it’s not only sessioning. How much more it can feel, when it molds into the every day life, when not everything is planned, when the dynamic is always there, sometimes more in the background and sometimes fully in the front. And how exciting it is and how much I enjoy it when the switch from back to front can be instantaneous.
Playing with Sir Atticus, He’s like a wild card. He does things that hadn’t even crossed my mind. Like on our date night He took away all of my senses. Blind-fold on my eyes to take away my sight, bone gag to take away my speech, ear plugs and headphones with soft music to take away my hearing, and black fabric cloths to further engulf me in darkness and limit my breathing. For a long while, I was left listening to my own heavy breathing and feeling my submission which was so strong it was almost tangible. Every brush of His fingers on my skin felt electrifying. Every kiss He placed on me, I could vividly feel the softness of His lips and the ticklish sensations from His beard…
Or the other time when He did the whole body bondage on me on His bed. My mouth, my wrists, my legs tied up with rope that didn’t have much give. My legs were lifted up with another rope. Ropes went between my pussy too, so any movement, every little attempt to struggle caused the ropes between my legs to go tighter, thus creating more and more sensations that were something between pain and pleasure.
I did later wondered why I would trust Him so completely in such a short amount of time we have known each other. Only a small part of it was the same old regular He-hadn’t-proven-me-wrong. Most of it was because He had somehow made me trust Him more than my body. He had made me trust that my body is the only thing He is ever going to break. Sweet and sour, as He put it once when I wondered out loud why I was capable of letting my control go completely with Him. He recognized my needs for affection and care, that using only force and pain was not going to cut it with me. Not if a Dom really truly wants to break me. It is all about the balance.
In many regards, I am a coward when it comes to my feelings, my heart and all that jazz. I hold a giant shield in front of myself which is a mirror and I follow the lead of the other person before I let myself feel the same way. In uglier words, I’m suppressing myself like a maniac before I’m given the permission to feel by the other person. Lately though, it’s been getting gradually harder to hold up that shield. And I am terrified. But at the same time I don’t care. Maybe for once, I would give myself permission to feel all of it.