Thursday, February 14, 2013
I think so. (As if you couldn't guess...!) In a D/s relationship, each party gives a precious gift to the other. The submissive offers the Dominant her total trust, placing her body and her safety in his hands. The Dominant gives his sub his promise to cherish and protect her - along with his unstinting attention, his lust and often, a good deal of pleasure.
Much more intimate gifts than chocolates or flowers...
Because BDSM is often viewed as evil or sinful, the top and the bottom are more emotionally naked than one normally is with a lover. They choose to reveal their real selves in order to experience the thrill and satisfaction of complementary desires. D/s takes honesty and courage, but the rewards are great. The powerful connection that results can be intensely moving, a true bond of love - at least, based on my experience.
So today, on Valentine's Day, I'm celebrating the deeply romantic nature of dominance and submission with my short story, A Old-Fashioned Valentine. Enjoy!
An Old-Fashioned Valentine
Sometimes I think I can't bear it. His absence hurts me more than any whipping or caning he might administer, especially when he's very so far away, on the opposite side of the globe. I desperately miss his orders - never mind how difficult they might be to obey. His touch, alternately rough and tender - his hypnotic voice - his fierce, inescapable lust – I can't live without them anymore. I stumble through my days dazed with need. Working, doing chores, eating, even sleeping, I'm preoccupied by memory and desire.
In erotic stories, Doms always text their instructions to their slaves, but he doesn't even own a mobile phone. There's email, of course. He worries about privacy, though, and so I must be content with vague messages that scarcely satisfy me. "Dear Pet, I'm thinking of you. Are you being good?"
I know what he means. Yes, I'm good. It's a matter of pride, and practicality too. An orgasm at my own hands will never provide that sense of completion he can bestow. I'd far rather wait and reap the sweet rewards of obedience.
Given the twelve hour time difference, phone calls require prior planning, and because of the costs, they're usually short. Still, it's a gift just to hear him breathing. He's paranoid about being overheard – not necessarily unrealistic given where he's working – so we stick to safe topics. I can't tell him how badly I need to feel the sting of his palm on my backside or the tight embrace of his ropes.
The past three weeks have been hard enough, but today is Valentine's Day, usually a special occasion for us. He is surprisingly sentimental as well as devilishly clever. Each year that we've been together, his meticulously designed Valentine's scene has broken his own previous record for creative perversion. I steel myself to the fact that this year will be different. For me, February the 14th will be a day like any other. We'll talk tonight – tomorrow morning his time – but meanwhile I'll go about my business, trying to forget the hungry ache in my chest and emptiness between my thighs.
Read the rest of the story here.
Happy Valentine's Day to all!