Salutations from Omega,
Often my mind rolls over certain thoughts, dismissed at the time as lacking merit, only to realize that I was spot on in the observance.
One such time, quite long ago when we still had the cage in the basement, we had played very hard and were sated. I recall being in my bed, two floors above where the activity had transpired and holding mouse close to me, as she was still lost in that foggy haze of subspace. I went through a routine we often do starting first by asking who she belongs to.
Not a hesitation in her voice, as she softly mewed that I do. I pressed further asking her other albeit leading, but nonetheless related questions, all which were answered accordingly. I felt a surge of pride and love for this creature that gives everything she has to me so freely. Then I asked, who owns me? Or words to that effect and she replied without hesitation that she did.
While at the time I dismissed it as being "cute" however the thought returned during a therapy session, where I mentioned this rather lightly to my therapist and quickly moved on to another topic. He stopped me, and returned that thought and asked how I felt about that. I paused for a moment and reluctantly admitted that it frightened me. To allow myself that level of intimacy was unthinkable just a year earlier. Well, maybe for most of my life, certainly throughout my life as a Dominant. Love was a hindrance to the level of play. I did not wish to concern myself with the notion of taking a bottom too far in a scene. Do not misunderstand I take aftercare extremely seriously and after intense play, I never shunned a girl for other plans before she was ready to leave. Nor do I actually believe that mouse can claim ownership over me This is about my strong feelings for her.
Still love was impossible for me to consider, yet that had changed when mouse and I became involved. Yes, I did rather pursue her, in part because I was lonely and we had a shared history. I just did not imagine I would be so very captivated by her. Her love was healing and brought out desires in me that were impossible. She was suited well to me. So this moment of shear panic to find myself so vulnerable to her, had me at a complete loss. The thought of harming that love and trust haunted me. I suddenly found myself not wanting to take my girl too far, the sadistic urge ebbed away. At least the deep one.
Until one evening, not so very long after. We played in that basement, although neither of us knew it was for the last time. I put her through the paces and moved further tormenting every inch of her succulent body, consuming her as I went and fueled by a sadistic thirst that demanded release. I pushed her beyond the breaking point and still my hunger increased. When it was over I dragged her the cage and left her there while I fought to regain some semblance of composure.
Purged of any control over myself I watched her sleeping form, trembling and considered further torment. This was the woman I loved, I passionately adored and as the results of what I had done to her came crashing back, the images overwhelmed me. I opened the cage, realizing I had placed her there not to recoup, but to protect her until I could regain control. I called her, when she did not respond I panicked, grabbing her ankles and pulling her toward me. I held her, rocking her telling her how deeply sorry I was. Although I cannot be thoroughly certain, I do believe I wept and prayed for her safety.
I vowed to never harm her again. I bandaged her, tended her wounds and marks and bathed her.
It took her a day and half to come back to me. She had no recollection of what had occurred, however I will admit that for a brief time her nightmares returned. She had transferred what transpired between us to her former owner and seemed to be reliving it in the dream state.
I dismantled the basement soon afterward and resolved banish the sadist from my life once and for all. I could not take the risk, as the sadistic urgings were becoming fast a new compulsion, or another tidy branch of my issues regarding sex. I lost the deepest part that I valued most, the mastery over myself.
Yet, my greatest moment of vulnerability was not that, it had occurred earlier. It was an off-handed question followed by an honest answer. What I once found unthinkable, I now find rather comforting; that between mouse and myself, it would seem that ownership is rather equal. Very much part of our power exchange.
Recently, mouse wrote about the gift of Dominance, which she noted is somewhat overlooked, however she seemed to dismiss her own gift of submission, by remarking that she was compelled to serve. In that simple truth she touched on something I found rather profound. We are constrained to be who and what we are. We are both imprisoned by our desires, hers to serve and mine to command. I believe together we will remain a constant force, so long as we remember to feed each other well.
Upon some reflection during the writing of this ramble, I noted that I demonstrated two varied types of vulnerability. The first to mouse and our relationship, my love for her which only grows. The second to my monster, the issues I hold regarding sexual intimacy that fuels so much of me. I struggle daily to keep it bay and remain vulnerable to it and challenged by it. I suppose I will reveal more areas in which I am vulnerable, for now one is invited and the other grappled with.