Mr. LL and I have had some form of D/s in our lives since we first got together. Of course, I didn't know it for what it was all the way back then, and it's shifted and changed over the years, as we've both gained greater knowledge about our needs and wants.
Certain experiences uncover and/or solidify those deep soul needs within us as a D/s couple. We're married. We're best friends. We're equals and partners in pretty much every regard. We both have work that requires us to "be in charge" and "take orders" at various times, we raise a child together, we run a home together, and yet, under it all...like a current of electricity...is the D/s aspect of our relationship. It's more than sexual, though it is most noticeable in the bedroom or during sexual interactions. And it's very necessary.
Sometimes, the "electricity" goes out. That's one of the times when it's importance becomes clear. We disconnect when this happens. We lose our sense of focus...sometimes even our sense of purpose. Things pretty much fall apart in every area of our lives. That's where we were at the beginning of this year.
The power went out, and we nearly lost each other because of it. And nobody could help us fix the problems but ourselves. Because what general counselor in a small town is going to suggest the kinds of things we needed to get back on track? Kneel at his feet. Put your hands around her throat. She needs you to own her...make her. He needs you to just fucking let go and trust him with everything. Be HIS.
We got to the breaking point. And maybe that was what was necessary. Rock Bottom. I found myself literally laying at his feet, gut-wrenching sobs, pride completely absent. And the way he looked at me...that distant, emotionless stare... I didn't know a person could feel as lost as I did then.
But that "breaking" led us to where we are now. No, things aren't perfect. And yes, we have a long way to go to find that perfect balance. However, what came out of that experience was this: I let go, and we lost the energy and impetus to fight. We forgave and we moved past some pretty deep-seated resentments. Because that was our only choice.
We need each other like the air we breathe. And had we refused to give in a little, and lost each other, I'm quite certain we would never have recovered fully. We're that connected.
Just recently, we had another experience that has shown me just
how much I need him and just how much I require HIS dominance.
man...we'll call him "J", came to my house to play...one-on-one. We'd made the arrangements with both of our spouses so we could satisfy the sexual tension we'd built up by during our first encounter. So, I took him into our
bedroom, and Mr. LL sat on the couch to run interference if our son woke
up and came out of his bedroom.
I'll write about what went on in that
bedroom later...but for now, the focus is on what happened when it was
over and I walked out of the bedroom.
There was Mr. LL,
headphones in, with this look on his face that nearly gutted me. I knew
something was very wrong. And after I closed the front door behind J and
grabbed a glass of wine, I came back to the couch and curled up next to
him, "Are you okay? Are you mad at me?" Because it was this mixture of
emotions on his face that confused me...was he drunk, angry, sad, hurt? I
panicked a bit inside, knowing, intuitively, that I was central to all
he was feeling right then. I felt small...and guilty...and scared.
Basically, the conversation we had
revealed that Mr. LL felt helpless...cuckholded...as he listened to
another man elicit sounds of pleasure from his wife. It wasn't so much
that another man was fucking me. He enjoys that. It was that he wasn't
in the room to participate.
He learned that, like me, he cannot be in the vicinity unless he's involved.
And so...a new "rule" was born. And he learned a bit about himself that sort of surprised us both. He's a much more Type A person than either of us thought.
also discussed dominance. Because being with another man, alone, for
the first time...for me, it was also a learning experience. I in no way
expect J to be like Mr. LL. But, I do expect dominant behavior. It's
strange how our expectations can shape events, because, even though I'd
never asked J to dominate me, I knew he was dominant with his wife, and
expected he'd do the same with me. But, he was a bit soft with me until I
encouraged him to be otherwise. I unfairly expected him to be like Mr.
LL...right out of the gate.
After Mr. LL and I talked on the couch, however, I
realized that J is something different. He's a lover. And as such, he
will do what feels right to him, and my reactions to what he does will
shape further actions on his part. He doesn't need to be my Dom. I have
one of those. And I was connected to Him, through the wall, the entire
time I was with J. I knew what actions of mine would please him. And I
did all of those things, not only to please J, but to please Mr. LL. I
was a good girl. And I knew it. While I need any lover of mine to be dominant, no amount of dominance will take away the fact that Mr. LL is really in charge. I can react to another's touch and attention...but I only do so because I've been given permission.
What I already knew was this: I need Daddy to own me. I need Him to free me and
make me feel safe. What I learned was, I can have fun with another man, but Daddy will
always be Daddy. Another man's dominance can turn me on, but only Daddy can
make my insides crumble. He alone can quiet my brain. All with just his eyes
and the way he looks at me. In fact, sometimes just that can almost make
me cum. He doesn't even have to touch me, and the world goes away. With
just a look.
That's true power, my friends.
When we finished our discussion, He
told me to remove his boots. And so I kneeled before Him, unlaced them,
and pulled them off. When He took me into the bedroom to fuck me that
night, He made me stand above Him on the bed, my ass to Him, and he
spanked me and called me his good girl. And I felt myself give up, my
pussy got wetter with each smack across my ass. He pulled my hair so
hard I nearly cried. He looked at me like I was His prey...
...and He slowly
entered me, holding my gaze captive, His solid strength holding me down, His hand around my throat. I wouldn't have dared to look
away. He fucked me so hard, I couldn't possibly have questioned whether
it was a choice. He took what was His. And my brain went quiet.
True dominance, in my opinion, is like that. Tinged with just enough fear to make it real. It's not role-play. It's not a game. It's primitive. And it's serious. And it's imperative to my soul. Not just any dominance...His dominance.
Because, regardless of anything that has happened to us over the years, He has been...and always will be... Daddy.