SMack!

Understanding

by gentle siren - 01.10.2001

I was writing an email to a friend this evening when a realization hit me pretty hard.

Well, actually, I was sorting socks, but I hadn't yet reached the end of the family-sized pile; I wasn't even to the part where the ceremonial "wondering where the other halves are," so my mind was free to wander and I was mentally working through an email message I wanted to write before bed.

A piece of my puzzle just casually checked to see if the door was locked, and finding it unsecured, walked right in. And, I feel silly for not realizing it before, but how was I to know?

I'm not new to the Lifestyle, but I'm still a bit wet behind the ears, still almost new. At 39, one would expect I had much of life figured out by now, but I truly don't. There's so much I don't understand and I only found my rightful place in the incredible land of submissives and Masters two years ago. I remember being in awe of this new world, where I could explore the fantasies I had kept hidden for so long. I was 15 before I realized that not all little girls laid in bed at night and romanticized rape and being taken by force, bound and gagged and unable to refuse. My dating had always been frustrating, of course, and my marriage was so much less than the physical and emotional satisfaction I needed. I didn't know why then, but I knew soon after it was over; that's when I found the Lifestyle.

I'm submissive. Once realized, I understood so much more about who I was and what motivated me. And where my satisfaction was.

I came alone to this Lifestyle and did my research online, unsure of who to ask for help and uncertain even where to start. I was excited and much too reckless, but was thankfully saved from my own naivety by an incredible and experienced Master who responded to my first tentative personals ad. He offered a gentle hand to me in guidance. I refused at first; he didn't offer a relationship and I had hoped for one. But, what he did offer proved to be much more than I could have ever refused. And everything I had needed.

For a year, he taught me to share my thoughts with him and he made my every fantasy come true, one by one. For the first time in my life, I was free from the judgment and standards of the world; he told me all I felt was warranted, all I desired was without fault and my fantasies were perfect even if they didn't fit the standards of "normal." I'd never, ever shared what was inside with another before. Ever. But, he had a way of so gently owning my thoughts and keeping them safe and close to him. Once, I wanted to describe some "horrible" thing to him that I had done in my youth, a sexual act of sorts. When I found the nerve, I blurted it out quickly and didn't take a single breath until I was finished. I waited with trepidation for his response; please, Master, tell me I'm not sick or too far off the edge.

He chuckled at me, as he often did. Here, I was telling this man whose respect I lived for the most guilt-ridden memory I had from my childhood, and he was softly chuckling at me. I immediately smiled, now embarrassed, of course. His response was not intended to make me feel like less; he never did that. But, it merely confirmed how naïve I was, as usual. I loved the way he could do that.

"little one, we've all done such things while we were growing up and exploring our bodies and our own sexuality. Nothing you did was unusual or beyond the boundaries of things kids do." He then proceeded to tell me a story of his own youth…and yes, my "horrible" little story paled considerably compared to his. Of course, it did. He was my Master; everything he did was more.It was hard when he left. I always knew he would. I just never wanted to believe it was true. I was without a world. I lost my mentor, my best friend, my guidance, my comfort. I lost everything when he left. But, I always knew he would have to go. And, my time with him made the price I had to pay worthwhile, without a doubt. It was still very hard to let go of him.

I found the piece of that puzzle tonight that had been missing. I suspected it would be obvious, but also important. I just couldn't touch it before. I just couldn't place my fingers around it and hold it as my own. I think I have it now. I have my fingers wrapped firmly around it. Finally.

Dear Bill,

I'm sorry we don't seem to be able to nurture a relationship from our friendship, but I'm not certain you're right when you tell me I'm chasing the ghost of my former Master. I don't think that's right at all. May I please explain?

The bond I had with him was very incredible, yes. And, I miss the relationship I had with him. But, to be very honest, I'm not sure I miss him as much as the bond and the intimacy and acceptance I had in that relationship.

Sometimes, when I tell you something important to me, you laugh at my naivety. Or, you make some comment about how silly I am, and you really mean it. When I come to you with a concern, you sometimes make me feel very needy and unprotected. I love your touch when we play, but I need more than that. I need to feel as if you accept me totally for who I am now and for all I've been in the past. I just don't feel that from you. I'm sometimes afraid to tell you things because I'll feel stupid about them. I'm so sorry for that.

When I cry some nights and I can give you no reason, I think I cry for the closeness I felt. You get angry and accuse me of crying for him, but I don't. I cry only because I miss badly the Master he was to me. I miss the safety and I miss being able to open up fully to another person, an owner, and allow them to have everything inside--as well as the outside. I miss the acceptance he offered me and I think that's why I'm unable to give you all of me, not because I still belong to him, but because I can't belong to you…not the way I need to.You tell me I'm not very bright and I should "get over it" or I will be alone if I don't accept someone into my life now, while I have some of my youth remaining. But, the part you don't seem to understand is that, no matter who shares my bed, I will still be alone if I don't find this very special bond again. And, to be alone inside is much, much worse than being alone on the outside. I have to keep looking for the one that will own me. I have to try. And, if I cry each and every night until I find him, I'll only appreciate him more. Please understand, I have to try.

siren