Yes, Sir

There is a "mean, nasty, snarky" rant buried in here. I'm sick. I do not care. If you do not want to read it, you know what to do.

I've been contemplating the nature of what it is that I at least TRY to do with my power exchange relationship. For me, more and more, it feels like the biggest "trick" to this whole thing is learning, and then remembering, that my one, simple task in this life is to answer, whenever I can, and whenever it is appropriate, with "Yes, Sir." Whether that answer is spoken and verbal, or simply enacted in my physical response, it is the complete and total manifestation of my committment as His slave


Sometimes that is a BIG deal. There are times when bowing to His will, and responding with that "Yes, Sir," is terribly challenging and very, very scary. There are other times when I notice that it is simply the normal, and natural response for me with Him.


I noticed it the other night in the simplest of things. I had just begun with a viral illness that has turned out to be some sort of flu-like nastiness. On Monday, I began with an intense and miserable headache. I just assumed it was a migraine (because for me all headaches are migraines), and took my migraine medicine. Nothing happened. So at the first opportunity, I took the second dose (I almost never do that). Still nothing. And that is it. Can't take more than two in 24 hours. By the time I got home that afternoon, I was miserable -- just wanting to lie down. I slept and slept and slept, but didn't get better.


I fixed us dinner, and we all ate.


Eventually, I decided to take my temperature, although I wasn't feeling particularly feverish. It was 102 degrees Fahrenheit. Yikes. No wonder my head hurt! I took some Tylenol, and hoped to feel better as the fever came down.


In time, it came to be bedtime, and I began to wobble my way through my usual nightime routines: lock the doors, load fresh sodas in the refrigerator, set up the C-Pap, straighten the bed, etc. He looked at me, and said, "Go to bed. I'll do this." There were a thousand "yeah, buts..." in my head in that instant, but I simply turned on my heel and headed to bed. The physical manifestation of "Yes, Sir."

I'm no saint. I'm very far from perfect in my slavery. I am pretty good at getting to "Yes, Sir."

It is, for me, the very essence of this life. Apart from fancy words, and elaborate theories, and questions about "why?" There is no valid reason to claim that you have given your power to another if you don't manage that simple response on a pretty regular basis. Holding the power to decide IF you'll obey is, in fact, a matter of holding all the power. It makes the whole business a sham.

Here's a classic example . As I read this little diatribe, I just kept thinking that there is no power exchange in this relationship -- unless, of course, one considers that the nominal "dominant" is entirely in service to the so-called bottom partner. I understand that "Domestic Discipline" is a different branch of the family tree, but the reality is that IF you ask someone to exercise control, or agree to having that happen, then this kind of yanking the power back is dishonest and unethical. Struggle. Fuss. Obssess if necessary. Come up with all sorts of theoretical grounds for what it is that you think you want. I do. But, in the end, it is imperative that the control pass from one to the other. If the only thing that you are willing to do is have it your way, when you want it, as you want it... then you are exploiting your partner. It is selfish and arrogant.

Submission is not easy. It requires heart and courage. Courage is not about not being afraid. It is about recognizing the fear and proceeding anyway. Sadomasochism is not entirely safe. Anyone who claims otherwise is a fool. Fear is reasonable. Dishonesty is not.

There. Mean. Oh well.

swan