rebuilding
One of the reasons I stopped posting here for a long stretch of time was because my relationship with Sir broke a little. I didn’t have my three day training session.
Sir had sex with one of His former partners, and didn’t tell me. Our relationship has ambiguous boundaries, but this particular woman always made me feel very insecure. At it’s core, it was a fundamental betrayal of the trust I put in Sir. I might discuss it in more detail later.
What I do want to talk about is the trust rebuilding aspect of a BDSM relationship. We were supposed to start on a new five month contract, that evening. The evening that I found about about His… transgression. I was going to sign a contract that would be more intense, more restrictive, and more challenging. I was trusting my Sir with, literally, everything I have.
He asked me if I still wanted to sign it. He asked me, and I said I didn’t know if I could. I felt betrayed and hurt and angry. I also didn’t feel submissive any more. I felt like nothing, just an ache and a general sadness. A few days earlier, Sir had literally beat into me, during a hard scene, that I was beautiful, amazing, extraordinary, concepts I have a hard time grasping. I felt all of that work unravel and drain away. I felt ordinary.
“I feel like I broke something very, very precious. Because you don’t feel like you can submit to me.” Sir admitted during an instant message exchange a few days later.
When I read BDSM blogs, I read very often about submissives who disobey their Masters or Mistresses in a major way and who are often punished for their actions. Submissives betraying trust, disobeying, being punished harshly, severely, and blogging about how much they want to be forgiven.
What happens when it’s the other way around? When it’s your Sir, your Master, the person you trust to take your breath, slap you until you see stars, beat you until you cry? When it’s someone that you CAN’T punish.
Everything just kind of flip flops. Suddenly, you’re not a submissive, you’re a girl again. Sir apologized to me a hundred times, in different ways. The roles felt like they had dissolved. We had drifted away from each other. It was me that was angry, and at the same time, not certain how to deal with my anger. It was me that was sad. It was Sir that tried so hard to make me feel better, even obliging me when I requested that we stop and get alcohol so I could drink. It was Sir feeling guilty and upset.
This also occured a few days before we were to depart for another California trip. A whole week this time.
So we took this trip to reconnect with each other. Kind of rediscovering and relearning and getting back into each other’s groove. We didn’t do any hard pain scenes. What we did do, was play a lot; in the mornings, at night, right when He got back from work. Sir was right; playing with each other and sleeping with each other helped both of us to feel better, and to reconnect. Waking up with each other, cuddling, messaging each other throughout the day, and the fact that we didn’t have to compete with much to spend time with each other, all helped.
I think that if the trip hadn’t come when it did, the trust rebuilding wouldn’t have gone as fast as it did. Spending lots and lots of time with Him accelerated the process. Maybe it’s the fact I’m a submissive, maybe I’m just an easy forgiver, but I didn’t and still do not feel a need to ‘torture’ Sir over what happened. I think Sir punished Himself enough. Sir apologized to me over and over again, but it was the unspoken things that helped to build my trust again. Build up my trust enough so that I could sign a contract.
I signed a contract on my hands and knees in a beautiful hotel room, late at night. Sir fingerfucked me while I read the neat, printed, three page contract aloud. I’ll talk about what I signed away in another post. He stripped off my dress, unzipping me out of it.
He slapped me. Repeatedly, tenderly at first, then more and more harsh. My breath escaped in shudders and gasps. I didn’t feel like crying. My face stung, my cheek felt warm, then hot. He slapped me with one hand first, then both hands. I was perched on my knees, the carpet biting into the tender skin on my kneecaps. I felt my knees weaken, but I dared not move.
Suddenly, I broke. I cried, and collapsed onto the carpet, falling from being on my knees. Sir sat on the floor, picked me up, and cradled me in His arms.
Ssh. Ssssh. You’re safe. You’re safe with me.
I cried into His shoulder as He held me close.
Looking back now, I think the whole fiasco, as painful as it was, helped bring us closer. I suspect that if our relationship wasn’t as solid and open, it would have fallen apart.
As Sir puts it, I will always have the ‘memory of the hurt’, unfortunately. That moment of being hurt. However, now we can move on to different and much more fun things.
—
What’s next?
TESfest 2008. Our new contract and my recollaring. Putting a couples profile on ALT. And whatever else pops into our heads.
