You know when your dominant gives a gift…not one that is a physical thing you can carry on your body or hold in your hand…something more intangible? He gave me that this week.
Words and promises and…
I’ve wondered, you know. Was he *really* still interested in me? In beating me, fucking me, torturing me? He said He was..
.(and yeah, I should learn to just take that stuff at face value because he doesn’t say what he doesn’t mean…never has, and after 8 years, I guess I can trust, right?)
I wondered if it was…you know…habit. We’ve been together for the longest of times, after all. Yet, at times I’ve felt like we’ve been drifting apart. It felt sometimes like I was the only one making the effort to keep in contact, to try to be exciting, or keep his interest in us alive.
We who are submissives are a fucking strange lot at times. We often don’t value our own worth to those that top us. We’re important to them in ways that we don’t always understand. I still need to remind myself of that.
He values me.
Even thinks about me sometimes, despite my not being around much lately.
For about 3 weeks there, we had next to no contact. Work was crazy wonderfully busy, which is great when you’re mostly self-employed. Even on Facebook I was pretty much ignoring my friends, just posting pictures of my kids and pets, some of the beautiful sunsets we’ve had. I was barely even seeing my family. Forget about time to talk to Him! Some days it was just a morning and evening “hi, good morning ” or “Hi, good night” as the extent of my texting. Like I said, crazy busy.
I think he was okay with that,(at least at first) but when you consider that for years I’ve texted him a bunch of times a day, to suddenly be down to two texts a day was out of the norm for nilla. Then this past week, I tried calling him a bunch of times, missing him. He’d call me back later…missing me…and on that went.
But out of the blue, he texted me about wanting to beat me.
When I’d been ready to write and say ‘fuck it, I guess we can’t make this work anymore’.
He wanted to beat me.
It turned me on. It turned me into mush. It made me grin and smile and feel. That’s it mostly-a reminder to feel all those wonderful, glow-y, submissive feelings again, when my life had become 99% vanilla.
It was only a few words but it gave me more than just “hope”. It was more in the nature of a promise, and a small sense of his longing. He’s an older gentleman, and very patient. He doesn’t get frenetic or wild or even enthusiastic. He’ll smile and laugh and be sillly–he’s very genial…but those wild outbursts are not his style at all…so this one sentence spoke volumes.
And tonight we talked. He told me a story of having to find something in the way back of his car, where he has a bunch of things stashed. (Who doesn’t have a Twilight Zone of stuff in the back of their car other than my mother in law??) He came upon an object that he’d gotten this summer…a true pervertable. He held it in his hands for a moment, before searching and finding the thing he’d been looking for.
It refreshed his memory…and his longing to use this thing on me.
“That’s going to welt up, bad. You’re going to want to find work where you only have to stand..sitting will be impossible for days,” he warns, his tone gleeful.
Gods, how I love that tone in his voice. I’m frankly nervous about the pervertable toy…I’m not spilling the beans until after he and I get together about what it is, and what happens after he tries it out on me…(oh how badly I need that to happen!)..then I’ll let you know what he found, and what it felt like and how much I love or hate (or both!) it! There might even be a photo essay involved….!
It’s a promise, this new toy. It’s a gift of a future time to be together, and a sign that he misses our play time as much as I have. I’m not alone in this longing, and that, really, is the greatest gift of all.