After seeing the movie Secretary I wondered what about it was most memorable, most eye and mind catching. Many scenes caught hold in my brain, but what surprised me most was that the scene that stuck with me the most was not overtly sexual or even that sexy at all.
The part that stayed with me has the main character sitting at a desk where she has been ordered not to move her hands or feet until he returns. Someone asks her in a nervous whisper "Is this some kind of sex thing?" She gives a wry chuckle and replies "Does it look like a sex thing?"
I loved that. Mostly just because for her D/s wasn't a "sex thing" it was much more. For me sex has little to do with our D/s. Yes sometimes being tied up and flogged will lead to sex, but not always and sex isn't the objective. The beatings, the chores, even being tied to the desk and made to be a cup holder for hours, all of it is so much more than sex could be for me. It means so much more to me.
When I was younger I knew there was something in me. I was told by my family that there was something wrong about me. They sensed it even though none of them knew what it was. I didn't even know. Whatever it was, it frightened them. Looking back I think they were just frightened by something they could sense but not name. A carnal fear of the unknown. As I grew up I tried to pretend I was happy being "normal", but it didn't matter. The other children hated me. Their parents kept them away from me. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't hide that I was different. To me it felt that there was a hole deep inside. Nothing I did could fill it.
In high school everyone just left me alone. I did well in school, was involved in theater and volunteer projects, and in the end none of that mattered either. The adults in charge could still feel that I was different. I was never picked to be in charge of any committees or productions. I was never congratulated for doing well in anything. I was in short, passed over. I was an outsider on the inside. No matter how hard I worked or how much I tried, I was always looked at then passed over in favor of people who didn't.
This all sounds rather ridiculous when I read over it, but its very true. It didn't even really hurt by then. By the time I got to high school I was exhausted with trying to fit in. I still kept up my facade, but underneath I was just as empty and unfulfilled as ever. So I tried to fill it. I've already written here about my juvenile self-hurting days. In high school I continued to hurt myself, but it wasn't enough anymore. So I started trying other ways to fill the void. I drank alot and had more one night stands then should be possible at that age. The remarkable thing to me now is that no one knew. My best and only real friend in school knew because I told him, but even he had trouble believing me. It just wasn't part of my projected persona.
When I did finally settle on someone to date I got into a relationship I knew was doomed from the beginning. She was a year older than me and like me she had had a horrible childhood. I think I fell for her because we were both damaged in our own way. We were together for two years before I finally drove her away. I am surprised looking back that it took her so long to get fed up and leave me. When being with her didn't fill the hole, I started doing things to hurt her. Her pain didn't fill me either. I was more lost and alone after she left then I had been before. My mother knew something was wrong and tried to "snap me out of it". I snapped all right. Near the end of my senior year I had a break down and tried to slit my wrists. My mother came home early and found me. Her words in that instant will define her character for you, "Why would you do this to me?" I didn't speak to her for days.
Then two years ago I met Sir. I was still hurting and empty then. I don't know any better way to describe Him, other than He fills me. He fills up that empty void inside me. Don't think that it was some love at first sight, He fixed me bullshit. In real life that doesn't happen. That void that has been in me all my life is still there. I can still feel it. It will probably never go away. But my Sir fills it. Every command, every lash, and every kiss fills that void more completely than I ever hoped it could be filled. And this is why I am grateful to Him. It is not why I love Him.
I ask myself now why I wrote all this. I think that this story is like poison that has been sitting in me for a long time and in telling it, I am drawing the poison away from myself. Not really drawing it out of me because it is a part of me, but drawing it away from my heart so that it can't destroy me. Writing to an audience that may or may not exist or care is the best way I know how to do this. I should just keep this for myself, but there is a feeling of freedom in publishing it, even if it will never be read. And freedom to me is a wonderful feeling, especially when freedom comes with chains.