“Everyone wants to live on top of the mountain, but all the happiness and growth occurs while you’re climbing it.”
He whispered into my skin; his breath adding to the dampness on the back of my neck…he whispered that he loved me, he whispered that I was his, that he needed me, and that he would take from me what he needed. His hand flowed down my back, a finger against my spine making me desperate for something more. A bite on my shoulder caused me to moan and another on my neck carried me over into that place of longing where my body is literally aching to be touched, to be used, to be hurt by him.
I was tied to the cross, my calves aching from being up on my toes, my arms trembling from being tied above my head. He stood behind me and teased my body, played with me as if I was just a toy and perhaps at that moment I truly was…as I often am, that is what I was. Toys are usually quiet and still unless they are touched and played with. I was being played with. He had the cane in his hand and he ran the point of it along the back of my legs. I shivered. I felt it again along my sides…a teasing touch along my rib cage causing me to suck in my breath. His gentleness startles me sometimes as much as his cruelty. Both are carnal and natural and real. Both are uniquely him and I get lost in it. I respond to both and they play into each other to the point of one being unable to exist without the other. When he is gentle it never wanders too far from my mind that it can turn hard in a heartbeat. A touch can become a hard pinch, a kiss can grow teeth. It is a consuming experience every time he touches me.
I am a fortunate submissive. I think of people who would question my lifestyle and I realize they have their own ideas of what is erotic, of what is consuming to them and their ideas do not have to match my own. I know that some people look forever to find the physical connection with someone that I have experienced with Richard. I remember thinking to myself a long time ago…lost perhaps in an adolescent fantasy of finding the man who could do all the wicked things to my body that my mind had somehow conjured up. In my mind I was the only one thinking such things…and wasn’t I a horrible person to have this dark longing to be beaten, to be collared, to perhaps even be a slave? Such thoughts crept into my mind as far back as I can remember. I teetered on feeling ashamed of what my mind produced and being titillatingly intrigued that my mind had this darker side.
Then came Mark. A dark knight of a man who taught me all I was feeling was alright. It was good….and he taught me to submit and to respect what my body yearned to give. The surrender of pain and the desire of belonging to someone and trusting so completely you would do anything for him. He taught me to love my submission and he taught me that even when he wasn’t going to be the man who took it from me it would still be good. He showed me what it meant o be loved and cherished for what I hid from everyone else. I have carried that feeling with me…I can pull it out and use it even now when I need to just as I imagine one day when Richard is just an archive to my readers I can pull lessons learned from him and apply them to my life.
Like I said, I am a fortunate submissive. I have known the love and the dark desire of two men who I will be forever grateful for the gifts they provided me. I spent a lot of time this morning reading my archives and the comments that followed. I was surprised at how melancholy I ended up feeling. It made me think of Mark and how we messed that up…but more than that it made me miss who I was when I first started seeing him again, back when I had no negative feelings associated with my submission. Innocent in a way…and part of me mourns that. It also made me realize that something Mark had told me was right. When he and I decided to end it he said it was important for him to know that one day when I looked back at our times together I would smile. I would only smile and not feel sad for the loss of what it is that was so undeniable between us but just smile that we had it….that we touched it and loved it for as long as we possibly could. I’m there. I realized today that the only sadness I feel regarding him now is knowing I disappointed him by some of my choices, I let him down. I have forgiven myself for that now even if he never will. And that’s ok too…because I’ve forgiven him. For everything.
It is a good feeling, freeing and light. I like that. I like knowing that is possible. It helps me as I prepare to move forward into my life, it will help me when it is time for me to look back on the time I shared with Richard and smile. I know that time is coming one day, hopefully later rather than sooner but we never know. There is a great big plan out there for my life somewhere….that is exciting to me. There is a man out there that I haven’t even met whose life will one day be so intertwined with my own there is no clear path between them. It is a powerful feeling that loving and losing love can make one stronger. It isn’t really just a cliché after all, is it? I am a stronger person, a better person for having loved Mark. I am a better person, a stronger person for having loved Richard. It is circular I hope. I learn daily from Richard and the biggest lesson he has taught me is that it is love, not time, that heals all wounds.
I don’t know who wrote this but it is a quote I look to often….”Happiness lies for those who cry, those who hurt, those who have searched, and those who have tried for only they can appreciate the importance of people who have touched their lives.”
Mark told me once in my first few days with Richard that he would be cheering me on the sidelines as I walk down this new path into my submission….I thought of that sentence often over this past year and used it when things got hard. I know that Mark and Richard are a lot alike. One day it will be Richard letting me go and cheering me on. That makes me feel safe and loved and how can any of that be bad?