With an hour left in Wicked Wednesday (as I’m writing this), I finally found time in a very busy day to write what came to mind late Tuesday night. Tuesday night was the last night with my Daddy until late October. I missed him before we ate breakfast this morning. This week’s prompt reminded me of the dark thoughts that can creep in (and should creep in) when playing and scening in the world of dominance and submission.
When he binds my arms with rope, for a second I wonder, “What if…?” What if he was some lunatic instead of my Daddy? Why do I let a grown man tie me up so that I’m helpless?
When he created a rope harness and lashed the vibrator to my body, I wondered at the trust I have in him. If he meant to do me harm, he could have done so very easily.
When I was bent over the bed, he used floggers, a crop, a paddle, and a cane on my bare ass – in one 45 minute session. What if he refused to watch my body’s cues? What if he didn’t ease up when I cried out in genuine pain?
I often marvel at the trust I have in him. The thinking side of my brain often watches in wonder as I put myself in harm’s way under his ministrations. I have total trust in him – and it’s a trust that he’s earned – or I would never allow myself to be so vulnerable. But when I let my mind wander to the what-ifs and the could-haves, the dark thoughts that creep in remind me that in the wrong hands, BDSM is a very dangerous thing.
Oh, but in the right hands, it’s a path to inner peace and a stillness in my mind.