Standing Tall in Submission

My fingers tremble as I pull stockings up my freshly exfoliated legs. The fragile fabric runs smoothly, settling over each dip to drape my skin in much-needed armour. My nerves have the best of me this night. I’ve prepared like this in days gone by but it has been too long, the process too absent from the vicinity of my mind. Lately, our interactions have been hurried, frantic, our link diluted under a relentless fiend called life. I take a deep breath to push down the doubts, the uncertainty that centers in the pit of my stomach. Hesitation rests there like a heavy ball, sitting static, holding firm, telling me all the things I don’t want to hear.

Each cuff is placed and locked. A mark laying claim, taking possession. I bask in the familiarity and smile at the doubt I remember so readily here. I wonder when it changed to pride, to approval. The familiar weight lifts a small degree of timidity, fuels me with something bold.

Taking position in the room’s center, my corset creaks against its bindings, the sound heavy in the silence. As my knees collide with the floor, I inhale, absorbing the shock in that moment of surrender, that instance where I concede power and put it in his hands. I feel the familiar pull come to claim me, to soothe the worry from my brow. My shoulders straighten, tension withdrawing, making way for tranquility to take charge.

The pounding of my heart settles as I wait for him, my body remembering this moment, my mind recognising the passage it is about to take. Stiffening my spine, I close my eyes and bask in the surety of my position, my absolution from shame, from fear, from objection.

His gaze feels hot on my mostly-nude skin, the sheer fabric struggling to protect me from his inspection. I shiver as the cold that has entered my fearful body is burned away, leaving me feeling more exposed then I truly am. His presence reminds me why I’m here and I straighten a little more, become further aware. Feet circle me, and I feel the insecurities of earlier attempting to creep back in, pushing to take control. Those probing eyes are almost my undoing. Sudden trepidation, shyness, and something akin to distaste plant a seed in the corner of my mind, whispering to me, telling me to run, to hide, to disappear. I hold firm in my place, knowing I will overcome this, I have been here before. Anxiety grips me, keeps me frozen. I couldn’t run, even if I wanted to.

His feet are gone from my limited view and a soft beat starts, the sound amplified through the speakers, placed just so. The music is meant to calm, but as we move closer to the reason for our joining, my nerves make their presence too well known. The repeated bass line mocks the rhythm expressed in my veins. The thump, thump, thump reminding me of my too fast pulse, my struggle to remain in place.

My skin feels animated, like it’s perforated, like my insecurities are trying to seep through. The urge to rub my arms, caress my legs becomes an onslaught of sensation. I push the unyielding dread back inside, to stop this invasion from forcing its way to the front of my mind and take a breath, swallowing the growing lump that has formed in my throat. “I can do this, I can do it for him”, I chant under muted breaths.

“Stand and face me,” his gentle words beseech.

I stand gingerly, placing my feet shoulder length apart, my palms flat against my thighs. I hesitate to lift my head, to show him the unease that sits heavily in my mind. My eyes travel up his body haltingly, slower than he would like given the tapping of his single finger. The tap, tap, tap a preview of what’s to come. I swallow a final time and fix my eyes firmly on his. The blue of his irises is concealed under the absence of natural light, but when I find myself focused, I see pure wonder.

His gaze emits hunger, appreciation, gratitude. My doubts disappear, and in the hollowness that is created, I feel the slow permeation of confidence come to take its place. Under his gaze I am brave. Here I will know no fear.

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