Right of Passage

We never made it for the walk, but we did talk – a lot.  For Sir, it was a matter of going against a lifetime of teaching about how men should treat women.  For me, it was a feeling that I was constantly topping from the bottom.  Sir wasn't frightened, per se, about spankings and flogging.  He definitely likes the sensation play.  And He definitely has a knack with a mindfuck.  But when it came to the intensity I wanted, that was where He became very unsure of himself – and me.  When we scened, I was wrapped up in my own mental world, so I really wasn't entirely sure of my physical manifestations.  I could describe things in general, but really never thought about my outward physical reactions much at all.  I was the only person Sir had ever tried any of this with, so He didn't even have a broad knowledge base on which to draw.  Reference books were great, but nothing beats practical experience.  Instructional videos are good, too, but again, practical experience was lacking here. 

We would be sessioning with Mistress that evening and I had an idea.  If Mistress agreed, how would Sir feel about being an observer again if Mistress pushed the envelope with me?  And while observing, it would be important for Sir to watch my body language, physical responses, even take notes.  I explained to Him that if the scene was intense enough, I might actually hit subspace and how that might appear to Him.  I also stressed that I absolutely trusted Mistress' experience.  He was extremely concerned about the possibility of me getting into subspace and being unable to safeword.  I told him on no uncertain terms there was no way Mistress would go too far.  She would know exactly what was happening at all times and if I couldn't safeword, She would safeword the scene.  This was part of a Domme's responsibility to the sub. 

It was clear to me, and, I think, becoming clear to Sir, that He needed validation and reassurance.  Even though we had been floundering around all this time, He was still very unsure about pushing limits.  It was about gaining confidence with his skill level, confidence within Himself, and yes, trust in me.  I knew without a shred of doubt that He could do this.  I don't know how I knew, I just did.  If this man could sling a 36-inch chainsaw with grace and ease (he used to be a logger and I've seen the pictures), then he could surely throw a flogger, swing a paddle, and maybe even master the whip (yes, yes, YES).  I also didn't miss the fact that Master and Mistress saw the same attributes in Sir that I did. And Sir had made it clear that He wanted to do this.  This wasn't being done just to please me, although pleasing me was a major factor.  He was doing it for Himself as well.  That was enough for me.

We also talked many times about my feeling that I was constantly topping from the bottom.  It was no secret that did not sit well with me.  In fact, it caused me a great deal of frustration, anxiety, sadness, and gave me a feeling of insecurity.  It just didn't feel "right" to me.  This wasn't business.  This was our life together.  Didn't we promise each other that we were going to stop worrying about what everyone else thought was right and be true to ourselves?  To me, it simply wasn't "right" to constantly have to take the lead in our life.  I also knew He resented it – and I told him just that, and went into minute detail about how I had come to that conclusion.  Did He understand now?  Was this all making sense to Him?

I saw the wheels turning, smelled the burning bearings.  Okay, let the man's mind work and shut up, woman.  You planted the seeds, now sit back and see what grows.  It didn't take long.  I think it must've been maybe a half-hour or so.  I'm not sure because I think I dozed for a bit.  What He said next sort of blew my mind. 

Sir explained that men today are raised and indoctrinated that a woman is their absolute equal and, for the most part, that is true.  But there are differences, no matter what the Women's Movement would like us to believe.  When a man finds the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with, the woman he wants to bear his children, there is something deep inside that will not allow itself to be denied, suppressed or ignored.  This is the instinct to protect and provide.  Yes, a woman can do the same, but in men this is a drive, a necessity, as vital and necessary as breathing.  Just as my need to serve him is a defining part of who and what I am, so does his need to protect and provide define who and what he is.  In order to protect and provide, control of circumstance is necessary.  But men have been taught directly and indirectly that taking control of their families and households is wrong.  He said some of my own words back to me:

In any group within the animal kingdom, there are leaders and followers.  Look at primates, lions, canines, geese even.  One is always looked upon as the leader.  Humans really aren't any different.  The BDSM community recognizes this.  The Community also recognizes that the gender of the leader means nothing.  The family members understand that each one has a say in the decision-making process, but someone ultimately has to stand up and actually MAKE that decision and deal with what comes of the decision.  And when the decision is made, that's it.  Discussion over.  Period.  End of sentence. Subject closed.

Sir recognized that the paradigm was shifting and He made it clear that He had no problem with that.  And then the sixty-four thousand dollar question:  Was I willing to step aside, let go, and let Him jump into the deep end of the pool?  Did I understand that not only did He know how to swim, He was really quite good at it?  Yes. I. Do, Sir.  And I will, Sir, as you wish.  All He did was smile.

***

We didn't realize it but nearly two and a half hours had passed.  There was a knock on the door and we were told that the masseur had arrived.  He was a little early because he had brought the things Sir requested and would we like to take a look at them. 

Sir got out to the main room before I did and, before I got to the main room, Sir was getting His massage.  The masseur, Shadow, was a leather Master.  If it could be created in leather, He could do it.  Shadow brought every kind of flogger I could have imagined.  And whips, belts, paddles, crops, oh my!  Somehow I managed to control myself and not drool, but I have to say, it wasn't easy.  Everything was beautiful.  What happened next felt a little bizarre...

Mistress was looking over Shadow's implements and I could just see the devious things going on in Her head as She handled the various implements and, yes, caressed the whips.  The butterflies in my stomach were doing a line dance while I watched Her.  We talked while looking things over and I finally got up the nerve to approach Her about the scene that would take place later that evening and what Sir and I had discussed.  She was open to the idea (was that actually a gleam I saw in her eye, or the reflection from the bay window?), but She would talk with Sir first.  Those line-dancing butterflies just turned into a full-blown rave.  Yeah, here we sat drinking tea while examining various impact play tools talking about getting beaten to the point of being darn near insensate.  And I was as excited as a 10-year-old kid who had been given an all-access pass to Disney World. 

Welcome to the world of BDSM and scene negotiation – with a pro-Domme who just happens to be a recognized Master Sadist.  Um, yeah, okay then.  The world just tilted from the strange into the twisted weird category. 

About this time, Sir came out from His massage looking more relaxed that I could remember for Him in quite some time.  I did the mental fist pump (the massage was a little extra something I threw into the plans as a little surprise for Him).  This was not only a learning situation, it was a mini-vaca, too.  Yep, now it was my turn.  Woo-Hoo!  Ninety minutes of Nirvana in the afternoon followed by two hours of oh-my-god-I-don't-know-what's-coming-but-it's-gonna-be-epic that evening.  I could hear Austin Powers in my head, "Yeah, baby!"

I came back up from my massage feeling like a million bucks and then some.  Shadow's fingers are pure magic.  No wonder He can work leather so well. 

Before I went to put myself back to some semblance of together, I watched Mistress and Sir testing the floggers and paddles, and the world tilted just a little more.  Master, Mistress, Sir and Shadow were going over the attributes of each implement and those raving butterflies took off again.  "Well, are you looking to give Saya just a nice warm feeling, or do you plan to take her over the edge? And, by the way, this makes a great pussy flogger..."

Um, yeah, with that, I decided it was time to make a temporary exit. 

I wasn't gone that long, but when I came back into the main room, there had been a definite shift of some kind.  I figured Master, Mistress and Sir had talked about the scene for later that evening.  Okay, no biggie.  They'd tell me if I needed to know.  I went to sit down on the sofa and Sir motioned for me to come over to where He was standing.  When I got there, he turned me around so my back was to him.  I wrote this in my journal so that I wouldn't forget what happened next.

Sir:  I have something for you.  Close your eyes.

I did so. There wasn't a sound in the room.  (I still don't know why I even thought about that at the time.)

I felt something soft and warm around my neck and reached up to try and touch it.  Sir ordered me to keep my hands at my sides.  I felt warmth begin to blossom from somewhere in my chest and spread out through my entire body. 

Oh, dear god, it was a collar.  It. Was. A. Collar.  A. C-O-L-L-A-R. 

Sir:  Open your eyes but do not touch your neck and go look in the mirror.

Oh, I managed to put one foot in front of the other, but don't ask me how because all I wanted to do was go down on my knees.  When I got to the mirror, I almost didn't recognize the woman looking back at me.  She looked stunned, overwhelmed, happy, curious, and she glowed.  I don't blush very often, but I sure did then. 

It was a stunning, beautiful, handmade black leather collar, studded with blood-red crystals, lined in the softest red felt, with a beautiful steel ring front and center.  This was no play collar.  This was no training collar.  This carried some very serious meaning.  That fact was not lost on me.

I went back out to the main room.  There were other people there, but the only person who registered was Sir.

Sir:  I thought it was time.  Will you wear it?  It's our House colors.  This way there will never be any question of who you belong to.

Master:  She'll be wearing your House colors even when she's wearing nothing else.

Mistress:  It's a beautiful collar.  It's perfect for her.

Sir:  Saya, do you like it?  Will you wear it?

I could not find my voice.  All I could do was nod like a bobble head doll. 

I wear what looks like two wedding rings.  One is an actual wedding ring, but the other is the only outward symbol that Sir had Collared me seven years ago.  I had always wanted a collar, something that would remind me of my service to Him. 

When my bobble head finally stopped moving, he kissed me and then whispered to me.

Sir:  I didn't fully understand before, but I do now.  I get it, Saya.  You'll never have to feel as though you are topping from the bottom.  I promise you.

I thought my heart was going to burst.  It couldn't possibly get better, right?  Wrong.  It did get better...

Next:  Even the best laid plans...