I. 90 Days Without My Master
Nearly a year and one half into my journey, a line was drawn, without warning. It has been more than 90 days since I entertained my One at private levels. A severing of joint things enjoyed, and needed. I have seen Him, publicly, spoken professionally and casually, yes. Almost daily. And, for that, I am ever grateful. But, with those surface interactions comes the piercing realization that I am, lately, quite incomplete.
There were cautions given, in the beginning. Promised tests, to which I readily agreed. Boundaries and expectations were explained, early on, though I toe-tested now and then, as we grew more casually attuned to one another. My right to warm his side, or tickle His fancy, if called, is more understood, today, than ever before.
Oh, how I pleaded to become His slave! After only a few encounters. How He tried, then, to dissuade me! He said that I'd no clue how deep the rabbit hole goes. My eager persistence allowed that He kindly enjoyed, trusted and agreed to accept me, instead. I eventually became His Own, with His giving of a private Celtic name. I was then, and still am, so very honored.
We pushed the envelopes of pleasure and desire, countless times, during that year and a half. Lovely, naughty things one only reads about were becoming my every need. A settled sort of regularity became most comfortable. Even housekeeping or doing His laundry became my hopeful rewards. I dare say there is little finer than watching Him enjoy grilled cheese and salami sandwiches, with spicy sausage soup, on cold, rainy nights, save for His voice, whispering so evenly in my ear, telling me to "scream it" once dinner was done.
After a time, even His whispers were no longer needed to prompt His due expectations, though I will always enjoy and respond to His voice. His casual, steady gaze communicated more than I think he initially intended, and I felt his thoughts, often before He could speak them. I began to read Him, like a book, particularly when he nestled against my backside, afterward, and spoke unguarded, in every way. Perhaps that is what changed things. He possibly enjoyed "growing me" more so than the evidence of my endless perceptions to inhale and respond to whatever He may bid. He became my air, and breathing is involuntary. Does that, in itself, somehow imbalance the scale regarding Dominance and submission?
Then...bang. It happened, like a shot to the heart. His personal mysteries unfolded, all about me, with a sudden and unexpected distancing of the things we had shared. His sudden silence nearly choked the very life from me. Though He knew I would fend His every challenge, he worked me, 90 days, to earn very few alliances. Still, I am so very thankful. I continue to caress every pointed facet that is Him.
I oft stood, motionless, momentarily seeing Him in my day to day routine. Day in and day out! 90 days is such a long time! I comforted myself by hoping, "Maybe He will speak, this time, and say that there has been some terrible misunderstanding." I watched as my One's countenance transformed from slight acknowledgement, to expressionless, and then to a darkness I could not define. The Voice that I strained to hear spoke very few words, if any at all. Sometimes, for days at a time. I held my breath as he strode past me, publicly, as though I were beige wallpaper. Could He not see my chest rising and falling as I sucked devotion versus pride, deeper, and deeper, inside? Oh, so very much like stone, my Master! I swallowed my silent pleadings, each time He pretended not to see me. The calendar on my wall bore the timestamp of The Last Visit in August. I hadn't the heart to turn the page; hoped childishly, that He would soon send for me, and that time had kindly stood still.
It is His Mastery that has always caused my blood to rush, and lent unequalled iridescence to my aura. I still manifest inside Him, with tiny, randomly unannounced, pearly irritations. That is the only thing that I am allowed to do, by design, without permission. His defiant shell clamps tightly, and I am delightfully trapped, inside. He feels and houses me. I continue to breathe, and grow, inside Him.
