Then, my voice barely breaking a whisper: “Does it… actually bring you pleasure to express gentleness towards me?”
I’d turned towards the plastic stick beside me but even so you had to increase the volume on your end and some technical shuffling ensued. The sudden shift to this state is still a mystery to me; all I know is in the presence of the moment it feels safe to step out of my feisty persona and lay bare the most intimate aspects of my soul.
The incredulous tone in your response made me smile. Of course I remember that it was I who initiated the kink. And though you haven’t mentioned it recently I know the plethorous affirmation of its benefits – particularly for me – is the foundation of our continuing exploration into D/s. But ironically BDSM has become my window into the world of vanilla, and some days a softly spoken word penetrates me more deeply than scenes.
I’m still not sure I believe it – vanilla, that is. Most days the world seems too harsh, and people too rushed. Tender moments are for sappy movies exploiting false hope. You want to feel? Really feel? Feel yourself crushed; feel yourself struggling. Feel the fight, the loss, or fleeting victory, if it is that. Here’s reality: there will always be another difficulty to overcome, pity to wallow in, or someone nearby itching for argument. Strife and angst guaranteed. How could a soft touch, a look, a word even begin to rival the intensity of such buffeting?
Then I feel a gentle caress across the miles and my internal defenses collapse. Suddenly nothing is as bad as it seemed, and even possibly better than could be imagined. It takes my breath away and I’m left bewildered. How…? I’m like that kid in the front row studying the magician, peeping behind the curtain and scrutinizing every angle to figure out how he did it. What sort of trick is this? What’s the secret? How does the bestower of such a gift maintain the charade for so long without cracking? I always enjoyed being gentle towards others, but was too hardened to keep it up for long. How can someone genuinely maintain this attitude – towards me, of all people?
Ooh, he’s going to chide me for that. But here’s the thing: whilst I mentally acknowledge that other people enjoy tenderness towards each other, emotionally I still hold this belief that someone isn’t enjoying my presence unless they’re beating me up or relishing the control of a power dynamic, spoken or unspoken, consensual or not. The sweet seduction of the senses for mutual comfort, validation, and pleasure is still a foreign concept. I can learn the language, catch glimpses of its tonal resonance, but integration yet remains beyond my grasp.
That doesn’t stop me from reaching, though.
For now, my latest question echoes in the air, broadcasting doubts normally hidden so far beneath the surface that even I am unaware of their existence.
I listen to the pause, unaware I’m holding my breath.
Only a moment longer
then you move
and all thought is banished to mind-blowing mystery of transcendent beauty.