Power… The single word evokes a myriad of emotions within all of us. You’ve heard time and time again how much people crave obtaining power, no matter where, how or from whom. Sadly, often times people vie for power by stepping on others, being ruthless. However, there is another form of power, one derived from respect. Control. Authority. Authority. Supremacy. Think about the magnitude of the meaning behind every word, the inflections in which you say them. For every D/s couple, there is from the very beginning an understanding of control, domination, and eventually clear authority. In my case, the Dom has the reins, can tell me exactly what to do, how to behave, and how to please him. John Patrick has few rules, preferring to discuss situations as they occur. Perhaps there will be more as he embraces his desire to have more control over me – and that’s occurring daily. But he’s not a Dom every minute of every day. He allows me freedom, which inspires my desire to submit to him even more. For me, that’s a very freeing – power.
The word and the meaning are used for the submissive. You may have heard that the sub truly has the power in the relationship. Yes, I believe that’s the case in the sense of submitting to anyone, truly understanding the absolute beauty of becoming a submissive, is a tremendous gift, one not to be taken lightly. John Patrick teases me since I’m such an aggressive female – as in how others would never think I could submit. Yes, when I enter a room people stop and look, generally listen, and are sometimes afraid. It’s not what comes out of my mouth generally, but the way in which I command a room. That’s heady stuff. I’m well aware of this and also understand that I could abuse even that tiny bit of power if I chose to. I usually (hmmmm) don’t. There is no reason. Gaining respect is by far so much sweeter. That’s the way it is with a Dom who is able to grasp the concept she’s offering him perhaps the greatest gift of her life. Submitting isn’t easy for a woman like me. He’s right. I wouldn’t do so to just any man. I thought perhaps I could early on, given being a submissive is my nature. I quickly realized – uh NO.
John Patrick allows me to explore my inner nature, the woman breaking free of her personal bindings, the chains locking away the submissive side. For that alone I respect him tremendously. In learning and listening, talking to others in the lifestyle and in listening to my own heart, I realize I have other powers. I can show John Patrick my devotion and respect in several ways. Of course obeying him without question is one way of showing him that I concede to his authority, but there are other ways. The symbol of a submissive and the way she feels about her Dom is something quite extraordinary. We all understand the collar and its significance. The concept being owned is a ‘wow’ moment for a D/s couple. This level of commitment is so deep, so intimate and so very uninhibited. I can’t truly tell you how much I admire couples who have gotten to this stage. Being collared takes time in the relationship and shouldn’t be taken lightly. There are other symbols, like being inked.
When I put together the first part of this new flash story, I didn’t really realize how much my words would affect John Patrick. He told me that he hadn’t really thought about a tattoo in the way in which I wrote about. Well, I think devotion can be shown in various ways, like piercings, rings, collars etc. A tattoo is similar and permanent. Yes, there are methods of removal but that’s not something that just happens either. I wouldn’t ink my skin for any reason or have art that wasn’t something I embraced completely deep within my entire soul. Imagine for just a moment having something on your body that will show your sign of devotion, even if placed in an intimate location that only your Dom will see? Powerful stuff. At least in my opinion. For many in a vanilla relationship, my guess is you’ve loved your spouse or significant other enough at some point you would proudly wear a symbol of your affection. Hmmm… Thinking about getting one? Let’s see about our couple.
Derek twisted the beer glass in his hand and studied the group of guys, a sigh pushing past his lips. They were all friends, many having been close to him since college. After almost thirty years of beings buddies with a select few, they knew almost everything about each other. He grinned and glanced around the room, studying the various groups. As he stood silently, listening in on their conversations, he realized he honestly didn’t know any of the guys but so well. And they sure as hell didn’t know him, nor could they ever embrace the darkness weaving through every aspect of his life, his decisions. The realization saddened him. He hadn’t really thought about the simple facts before. Why now? His life was changing for better or for worse.
Taking a sip of his beer, he gulped the warm brew with disgust. Nothing seemed to taste good any longer. A slight tingle in his hand reminded him of the spanking event. Event. Wasn’t that a way to describe Dawn’s punishment? He chuckled to himself and rubbed his hand down his thigh. The memories were surprisingly sweet.
“Hey buddy. You gonna join us at any time or just stand there in the corner holding up the damn wall?”
Hearing his best friend’s boisterous laugh he sighed. Brent was the host, the man with the party room. If only the man knew what a real party room was like. Images of spanking stations and ‘X’ crosses were enticing visions and his cock twitched at the thought. “Sorry, just have some shit on my mind.”
“It’s Saturday. Leave work at work,” Brent stated as he took a gulp of his beer and nodded, his eyes glancing down to the half empty bottle in Derek’s hand. “Lightweight today too. Some heavy shit must be going on in that big ole brain of yours.”
Derek held the bottle out and groaned. “Yeah. The week was shitty, too many unhappy customers.”
Brent sniffed and flanked his side; turning to look at the group of men hovered around the pool table. He remained quiet, his eyes never blinking.
“What? Just say it.” Derek shifted and leaned against the wall. The group got together once a month to drink and hangout. He studied every one of them for a few seconds, going through in his mind the various trials and tribulations they’d all experienced. From divorces to being laid off, deaths of family members and even one of their own, they’d seen each other at their best and worst.
“Whatever is on your mind. I can tell you’re ready to jump my ass about something so just freaking do it.”
“Testy today, aren’t you?” Brent laughed and darted a glance. When Derek said nothing, he shook his head. “What’s going on with you and Dawn?”
“What do you mean what’s going on?” Suddenly his ring finger ached. He absently rubbed his fingers against his pants as inconspicuously as possible.
“As if you didn’t think I’d notice you took off your ring.” Brent’s voice was quiet. Then he blushed and grinned. “I notice shit man.”
Shrugging, Derek took another sip of his beer and hissed. “Time for a gin and tonic.” He strode toward the bar, his nerves on edge. The decision to remove their rings had been Dawn’s and something she’d insisted on saying their marriage was a lie. As ugly as the words were they were the truth. They hadn’t been truthful with each other in years. They’d grown apart to the point he didn’t know anything about her. Maybe he didn’t really know about himself.
He walked behind the bar and grabbed a glass, trying to allow whatever game on the big screen television to fill his head. A solid distraction was something he really needed tonight. Even the intimate moment shared with Dawn, the way she cried in his arms after the spanking, hadn’t soothed him or stopped the demons from crowing his mind.
“That’s not good enough,” Brent stated as he leaned over the bar. “Make me one of those too, will ya?”
“Sure.” He pulled another glass from the counter and filled both with ice. When he reached for the bottle of Tanqueray he realized his hand was sweaty and shaking. What in the hell was wrong with him? You’re a liar. You’re a fake. You’re an asshole. Startled, Derek looked around the room, as if a chorus of voices was singing to him. An echo remained.
“Now you’re freaking me out, guy. Your face is white. What the hell is going on?”
“Nothing.” He managed to pour the liquor.
“Whoa. Not into doing shots of gin this early in the night.” Brent gave him a harsh glare. He raised his eyebrow. “You fucked around on her, didn’t you?”
“Shit!” Dropping the bottle, the clanging noise drew the attention of everyone in the room. The guys turned to see what was going on.
“You okay, dude?” The baritone came from across the room.
“Fine Steve. Just me being clumsy.” Derek knew every one of the guys in the room had caught on something was wrong with him. Most of the time there was no need to talk about their various troubles. They knew. They supported. They gave space. The concept was like a code of honor. Right now he could use a good friend, one he could talk to at length, trying to determine why he has such a freaking screw loose. “Go back to your game and watch out, the master is coming to kick your ass!’
“Bring it on, buddy.”
Derek laughed and raised the bottle as the guys saluted him with their middle fingers. Snorting, he bowed and couldn’t help but laugh. Now he was glad he came. He kept his eyes on his task, mixing the drinks. When he pushed the glass in Brent’s direction he could tell his friend was waiting for an explanation. “What do you want me to say?”
“The truth,” Brent said quietly. He exhaled and wrapped his hand around the glass. “You’ve never been good at hiding your emotions. What’s going on with you two? Are you getting a divorce?”
Derek took a gulp of his drink before he attempted to answer. “No. At least I don’t think so.”
“That’s an interesting answer. Are you having an affair?”
“No.” The truth was too close for comfort. There wasn’t another woman in the picture, but another life, one he had been ready to bolt to achieve.
“O-kay. But there’s something going on.”
“We’re having tough times.”
Brent rubbed his eyes. “You know, ever since your heart attack you’ve been a different person.”
“Almost dying will do that to you.” The experience had left him a broken man. Something even time and Dawn’s comfort hadn’t eased.
“Yeah. Well you know what? You’re alive and in good health. Right?”
“Jesus Christ. Even the way you said that one word is like your life sucks. You’re alive. You have a damn good job and toys to show how much money your ass makes.” Brent tilted his head and leaned closer. “You have a damn hot wife, one I’ll be happy to take off your hands if you no longer want her, and here you are whining like some girl. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Instantly Derek was ready to snap at Brent. There was no doubt in his mind his buddy had the hots for Dawn, always had. Since his divorce, Brent had been on the prowl for anything on two legs. “Touch her and you fucking die.” He heard the hard edge in his voice, saw the flash of hurt in his friend’s eyes, and instantly hated his terse words. “I’m sorry. I just…”
“No need to apologize,” he said weakly. “I get it.”
Tension remained between them. “No, you don’t.”
“Okay. I don’t.” Glaring at him, Brent took a gulp of his drink and tapped the top of the bar. “Ya wanna talk, I’m here. You want to be an asshole? Go fuck yourself.” Brent inched away from the bar, turning away.
“Brent. I’m sorry.” His entire body was aching, his mind reeling from the conversations he needed to have with her, the ones ramming against his psyche like a sledgehammer. Dawn only knew a small aspect of his needs, his dark desires, and he was petrified about telling her. No woman could accept a man who needed and craved…who had to have… He couldn’t even think the words, let alone talk about them. How in the hell was he supposed to let her inside to see the beast he’d become?
Brent sniffed, studied the television for a few seconds, then looked over his shoulder, his eyes moving back and forth. “All right. I hear ya. We’ve all gone through shit. As I said if you want to talk.”
“I do.” The two words slipped out quickly. “I just don’t know what to say.”
“All right. Fair enough. Tell me this. Do you love her?”
“Yes.” The word was said quickly, with total conviction. Derek breathed in and smiled. “I love Dawn with all of my heart. I adore her and everything about her. I long to be the man she needs and give her everything her heart desires.” He could tell the words caught Brent off guard.
“And what says you aren’t?” Brent’s eyes flashed.
Derek rapped his fingers on top of the bar. “I just know. Okay?”
“You might start showing her by putting your ring back on.”
“It’s just a symbol.” The second he said the words a pain rushed into his heart. He hadn’t realized what a symbol meant to him until he was asked to remove his ring. Now he wanted nothing more than to say his vows to her all over again. Smiling, he thought about Dawn’s teasing words about honoring and obeying him, words removed from the traditional marriage vows eons ago. She really wanted to obey him, honor him with her devotion and love. And he was an idiot and had no clue how to respond.
“Just a symbol. For women symbols are very important, vital to a marriage if you ask me.”
“Marriage isn’t what it used to be.”
“No, that I agree with,” Brent said then groaned. “I wish I’d tried to save mine.”
This was the first time Brent had said anything to the like and Derek was surprised. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I fucked it up but you have a chance. Put your ring back on.”
“Dawn asked me to remove it.” The words seemed to hit his friend hard.
“Oh.” Brent shrunk back, his face darkening. “That’s some heavy shit.”
“Yeah,” he whispered. The drink tasted good – too good.
Brent shot him a look. “So you’re like what now?”
“Exploring other options.” When he said the words he smiled. Yes, they were. In truth he was shocked Dawn was so open to his needs. When he’d realized she not only embraced the concept of at least domestic discipline, he’d been floored. The memory of the spanking was now pleasant.
“Hmmm… Okay. That’s good. You are working on your marriage.”
“We are. I just…”
Derek moved from around the bar. “Wish I could show her how much I love her.”
“Like a wedding band?” Brent laughed.
“Yeah.” The band just didn’t mean the same thing any longer.
“Okay.” He moved his head back and forth. “What about something else?”
“Yeah, another symbol of your love.”
“I’m game. What?” Derek had no idea what his buddy was talking about.
Brent grinned and moved directly in front of him. “How about a tattoo?”
“What?” The question shocked him at first. Then Derek smiled. “Getting inked.”
“You could put her name right on your chest, buddy. Nothing tells a woman that you like her like permanent ink.”
The thought was… Derek looked away, visions of various art pieces racing in his mind. Yes, a tattoo.
What do you think? Would you? Will you?
Kisses and spanks…
SUBMITTING TO A SPANKING